All Through the Night (41 page)

Sure enough, she started her now familiar I-don’t-want-to-be-rude-but-get-the-hell-away-from-me morning wiggle. He resigned himself and let go, even though her sweet, rounded ass rubbing against his cock was having its predictable effect. She unzipped the bag with a sharp snap of her wrist. Cold air rushed in, shocking him and his hopeful privates brutally awake.

Annie clambered out and started digging for her underwear. He enjoyed the view, since it was clearly the only satisfaction he was going to get. Annie was definitely not the lazy morning sex type.

She shot him an uncertain glance. “Jacob, do you mind—”

“Getting the hell out of your sleeping bag and your tent?” he asked wearily. “Yes, I do mind. Since you’ve asked.”

She had the grace to blush as she wiggled into her panties. “All I mean is, I really have to get on the road, and—”

“Yeah, you have that incredibly urgent appointment with a slot machine in Louisiana somewhere.”

She made a furious little sound in her throat. “I never should have told you that,” she hissed.

“Maybe not. What is it with you, Annie?” he demanded. “What’s the formula? Every multiple orgasm earns me a snotty remark the next day? The better the sex, the bitchier you are in the morning?”

She whirled on him, her eyes snapping with fury. “Do not ever call me a bitch,” she snarled. “
Ever
. Have you got that?”

He recoiled from her vehemence, drawing in a slow breath. “Whoa,” he said quietly. “OK. I’ve got that. The B-word is totally off-limits. Bit by bit, by trial and error, I’m getting it, Annie.”

“Sorry,” she whispered, groping for her toiletries bag. She glanced up at him, and he leaned back on his elbows, flicking off the sleeping bag and blatantly displaying himself to her.

A tide of crimson swept over her pale face. “I’m going to take a shower,” she said tightly. “When I get back, please be decent. I can’t think straight when you’re—when you’re—”

“Stark naked and on fire for your touch? Sporting an enormous erection in your honor?” he offered.

“Smart-ass.” She tried not to smile as she crawled out of the tent.

Jacob’s eye fell on her purse as he was dressing, and he grabbed it without hesitation. He was sorry to do it behind her back, but there were things he needed to know, and she was too prickly this morning to ask direct questions. He rummaged through it. Sunglasses, Kleenex. Pepper-Gard defense spray. Wintergreen Lifesavers. A pack of saltines, battered to crumbs. A little velvet sack of silver dollars. A wallet.

He put it all back in except for the wallet, and thumbed through it with methodical precision. A New York driver’s license, Staten Island address. Annie Simon. Now he had a surname. He dug deeper. A library card. A membership in a Blockbuster video club. No credit cards, no gas card, no bank card. He counted the cash in the billfold and cursed softly. No wonder she was driving on bald tires.

He put the wallet back in its place and poked around the rest of her stuff. A backpack of clothes. No winter coat, but she was headed for the deep South, so that could be considered superfluous. Food, however, could not. He rummaged through the box. Canned fruit, some freeze-dried instant soups. A bag of marshmallows. That was it.

It was making him angry.

He gathered up the foam containers from last night’s feast, and shoved them violently into the dumpster, just as she came trotting back down the path, shivering. “Showers are cold,” she said shortly.

“Thanks for the warning,” he replied.

She hurried on without another word and began dismantling the tent with clumsy haste. He stared after her, tight-lipped. If he had any pride left, that would be his cue to leave.

He wouldn’t let her see him follow her today. It was the only concession to pride he was capable of making after last night. The woman’s ability with her tongue had brought him to his knees. She wasn’t getting away from him now. No way.

Annie thumbed through the guidebook for Arkansas hot springs, looking for the page she had folded down. Helmslee Hot Springs. The guidebook promised secluded, undeveloped mineral pools in the streambed of a canyon. It had sounded like a soothing, healing sort of place. She had been making a point of finding beautiful places to hike and camp on this trip, so as soon as she set up her tent, she was heading straight for the trailhead. Maybe she could find some peace in a pool of hot mineral water, but at this point she doubted it.

She wouldn’t be seeing Jacob again, after this morning’s bravura performance as the knife-tongued hag from hell. Last night’s lovemaking had blown her practically to bits. She couldn’t handle these wild, seesawing emotions. They were scaring her to death.

“Hi, Annie.”

She squeaked and spun around, dropping the guidebook. He stood at the edge of her campsite, holding two big plastic bags under his arms. His face was somber and guarded.

“I thought you’d gone for good,” she said faintly.

“I’m not that easy to shake,” he said calmly. “I lost you when I stopped at the sporting goods store in Carlson, but I picked you up again pretty fast. I’ve got an instinct for you now.”

She gazed at the harsh planes of his handsome, unreadable face, feeling nervous and shy. “What’s in the bags?” she asked hesitantly.

“A foam mattress, a lantern, and two down sleeping bags that zip together into one. Top of the line. Perfect for winter camping.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. “They must have cost you hundreds of dollars,” she whispered.

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

She shook her head, tears welling into her eyes. “Jacob, I can’t accept them.”

He stared at the ground and let out a long, controlled sigh. His face was so patient and stubborn, she wanted to slap him, or kiss him, or just knock him down and jump on him. “How about an extended loan?” he asked in a long-suffering voice.

She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

“Fuck,” he said in a low, vicious voice, flinging the bags to the ground. He stepped toward her, his eyes burning. She stumbled back, alarmed. “Would it kill you to accept just a tiny bit of help from me?”

She straightened up proudly. “I don’t need any—”

“Yeah, right. You don’t need any help from anybody. That antiquated piece of shit you’re driving needs new tires and an oil change and God only knows what else. You’ve got nothing to eat that would keep more than a hamster alive. You’ve got next to no cash. No plastic. No bank card.

No gas card. But you don’t need any help. Oh, no. Not the indomitable Annie Simon.
Shit
, Annie!“

Her jaw dropped. “How do you know that I—”

“I looked through your goddamn wallet, that’s how!” he spat out.

Fury flashed through her. “How dare you go through my stuff?”

“How can you travel like this?” he demanded. “You’re walking a fucking tightrope, Annie! Where’s your goddamn plastic?”

“Philip canceled all my plastic the last time I tried to leave him!” she yelled. “I’m not stupid, Jacob! Do you think I like this situation?”

Jacob drew in a sharp breath. “Did he hurt you?” he demanded.

She flinched. “None of your business.”

He shook his head, his face rigid with frustration. “Christ, Annie. What about your family? Do they know where you are? Can they wire you money? For God’s sake, tell me you’ve got some sort of safety net! Anything at all besides a fucking slot machine!”

His furious concern was reducing her to tears, pushing as it did at her most sensitive point. She had no sheltering family to call on. A series of foster parents in Payton, some better, some worse, and only one of whom she remembered fondly enough to send her a Christmas card. But no one she could ask for help. No one to catch her if she fell.

God, you’d think she would be used to it by now. She bolted past him, but he kept pace behind her. “Damn it, Annie! Listen to me!”

She whirled on him. “I can take care of myself, Jacob! And how dare you look through my stuff?”

He grabbed her arm. She yanked at it, but his grip was like iron. “I did it because I really care about you, Annie. So shoot me.”

Her face crumpled, and tears starting oozing down, rob-bing her next words of any force she might have been able to invest them with. “I don’t need to be rescued, Jacob,” she choked out.

“Like hell you don’t,” he muttered.

It was too much. He was so beautiful and tough-looking, radiating protective energy like great waves of heat, and it was so incredibly sweet of him to care. All she wanted was to fling herself into his arms and say oh, yes, please save me, oh, my hero. She hated herself for being so tempted, for feeling so helpless. She wrenched her arm away and stumbled, catching herself on the trunk of a tree. She dashed her tears away roughly with the sleeve of her jacket.

“Listen, Jacob,” she said in a low, trembling voice. “This trip is not about Jacob’s red-hot affair with that weird chick he rescued on the road. This trip is about Annie Simon, alone and independent and free, finally getting her life back, in whatever way she can. Do you get that?”

He stared at her, his mouth compressed into a hard line. He gave a short, jerky nod.

“I’m going to hike up to the hot springs now. Please don’t follow me. I want to be alone.”

He nodded, his eyes bleak, and pulled on his helmet. “Whatever, Annie.” He climbed onto his bike, fired up the engine and roared away without another word, leaving the bags he had brought behind him.

Her tear-blurred eyes followed his wavering image as he pulled out of the access road and onto the highway. Rain began to fall.

His gut roiled with anger. Calm down, chill out, demanded the cool, calculating part of his brain. If the damn woman doesn’t know what’s best for her, let her go it alone. She told you to fuck off in ten different ways, so fuck off already and get on with your life.

It was true, but every mile that passed, the pressure inside him mounted until it was almost unbearable. The whole situation was unbearable. He’d never lost it over a woman. He’d always liked them, enjoyed them, had his pick of them. He’d fully enjoyed that privilege, and been well aware of his good luck. And he had always prided himself on his detachment when it came to romance. He kept his head, didn’t get swept away, didn’t get trampled on. Ever.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have strong impulses and intense emotions. He did, and he recognized them and sometimes even acted on them, when he had decided that it was appropriate and in his best interests to do so. He, Jacob Kerr, the choice-maker, stood apart from those impulses and calmly ran the show.

Until he’d seen her shove her honey-blonde hair away from those haunted eyes, that sad, sexy mouth. Until his gaze had dropped to those soft, pointed tits that bobbed so enticingly beneath her T-shirt. Until the instant he’d seen that luscious ass, swaying like a round apple begging to be bitten, as she sashayed out of that fateful ladies’ room.

And had subsequently gotten a brutal crash course in what it felt like to be dragged around by his cock.

He accelerated, in spite of the dangerous sheen of water on the dark asphalt. At the rate he’d been going, further exposure to Annie Simon would have reduced him to a slavering idiot. She’d done him a favor by sending him on his way, sparing what pathetically few brain cells still functioned in his head; from the feel of it, all his blood had migrated permanently south to his groin.

Discomfort weighed on him like a stone as the miles passed, making him weary and breathless. A bitter certainty began to grow in him as he negotiated the sweeping curves of the mountain road.

He had to go back. He couldn’t leave her there by herself in the woods. She could scream and curse and carry on all she wanted; he just didn’t have it in him. It was too fucking dangerous, and if she didn’t understand that, well, that was just too bad. He was going to have to make her understand it, in whatever way he could think of; and by God, he could think of a few right off the bat.

He slowed to a stop and turned around, furious at her, at himself, at everything. An unfamiliar seething energy began to gather inside him, and he cursed long and hard and viciously into the whipping rain as he sped back toward Annie, spoiling for a fight.

Chapter Four

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Annie sank deeper into the caressing warmth of the steaming mineral water, and watched rain patter into it with deepening melancholy. A stream cascaded to the left of her, and bare trees towered over her, their tops wreathed with fog. Billows of fallen leaves softened the bleakness of winter, their rich red and gold tones glowing in the pearly gray light of late afternoon. Tendrils of steam curled slowly up from the pool, giving it an eerie, mystical look.

The pool was deep and clear, lined with colored pebbles and glittering white sand, as hot as the most perfect bathtub. It was ringed by flat boulders of white stone, veined with fleshy, glittering pink streaks of quartz that gleamed in the rain. It was magical. A place to calm down, to ponder her future, to renew her faith in herself.