All Through the Night (47 page)

After three short days with Jacob, the whole Philip story, which had seemed so apocalyptic, was blotted practically out of her mind. The memory now had a tinny sense of dis-tance, like a scary but more or less insignificant movie she had seen somewhere, a long time ago.

She dragged herself upright. Minutes were ticking away, and this might be her last chance. She had to haul ass or she would lose her nerve. One more assault on her defenses like the last one, and she would crumble—and become the body-and-soul property of a man about whom she knew practically nothing.

She had read somewhere that one of the quickest ways to make a person feel helpless was to take away their clothes. Conversely, putting them back on ought to give her a shot of instant backbone. She got up and rooted around in search of her underwear. She longed for a shower, but didn’t dare take the time. She found her panties, the crotch ripped out and hanging in pathetic shreds. Whatever. Going without underwear never killed a girl yet. She would find a K-Mart. Buy panties.

She yanked on her jeans, starting to shake. Half of her was terrified he would burst into the room, sandwich in hand, and bend her to his will again. The other half was silently begging him to get back quick, before she did something irreversible.

But he didn’t come back. And she knew what she had to do.

Her gaze swept the room. Mildred’s keys. Crucial detail. She pocketed them. Purse. Likewise. She grabbed it.

Then her eyes lit on Jacob’s jacket, and an idea sprang to her mind. She reached gingerly into the pocket and fished out the keys to his bike. She would hide them in the motel safe. Let him think she had taken them. It would give her the edge she needed without grounding him completely, or weighing on her conscience.

It was time to go, but her damned stupid leaden feet wouldn’t move. She grabbed the pen on the desk and scrawled on a sheet of motel stationery.

Jacob, I’m so sorry. I have to go because I need to…

She wadded it up and threw it into the trash basket, and grabbed another.

Jacob, I can’t let my life be taken over again…

She stopped, wadded, threw.

On the third sheet of paper, she watched, appalled, as her hand wrote,

I love you.

Tears started flooding down, and she flung the incriminating shred of paper at the trash basket, despising the little hiccupping sounds that were jerking out of her throat. She wrote

Sorry.

in a big childish scrawl, and laid it on the rumpled bed. On impulse, she dug into her purse and pulled out the sack of lucky dollars. She pulled one out and held the chilly coin until it had absorbed the heat of her hand, silently wishing him luck. All the luck and love in the world. She dropped it on top of the note, and fled.

She blew her nose repeatedly, practicing a cheerful expression in the elevator. She dinged the front desk bell until she got the attention of a plump blonde girl whose name tag read “Tammi.”

“Tammi, would you do me a favor? My boyfriend left the keys to his motorcycle in the room. He asked me to leave them in the motel safe if I had to go out. Would that be OK?”

Tammi looked doubtful. “Couldn’t you just leave ‘em in the room? I mean, it’s not like they’re jewels, right?”

Annie gave her a woman-to-woman smile. “It’s his beloved bike,” she confided. “You know how men are. He’s paranoid. Humor us.”

Tammi giggled. “I sure do know what you mean, ma’am.

I’ll just call the manager and have him put ‘em right in there for ya.“

“Thanks so much, Tammi,” Annie said, bolting out the door.

With the help of a couple of burly guys who were passing by, she got the motorcycle out of the truck, though it cost the two of them far more effort than it had cost Jacob to lift it by himself. She was wild-eyed, nervous, sure that he would appear at any moment. He didn’t.

She pulled onto the road, and all the accumulated tension from the past few days slammed down on her at once. She knew she shouldn’t drive while she was sobbing, her eyes constantly filling and refilling with tears, but she didn’t dare pull over to cry herself out. She just blinked hard, wiped her nose on her sleeve, and tried not to drive off the road.

Chapter Six

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“For God’s sake, all I asked for was a turkey club, a burger, fries, a beer and a Coke. I didn’t order a six course meal,” Jacob barked to the Lone Star Steakhouse hostess. “It’s already been more than a half an hour!”

The hostess’s cherry-red mouth tightened. “It’ll be right out, sir.”

“That’s what you said the last four times,” he grumbled, sinking back down onto the bench. He was as agitated as hell, his boot pounding a staccato rhythm on the floor. He covered his eyes with his hand, horrified at himself. He had never tried to intimidate a woman with his size and strength before. He had never needed to, but the resistance he sensed in Annie goaded him to keep pushing her, to break down her defenses. He couldn’t seem to stop. It was like a bad dream. At this rate, he was going to end up in a padded cell.

He would bring back her lunch and throw himself on her mercy. Apologize for being such a controlling asshole. He couldn’t handle the stress of wondering if she would still be there every time he turned around. He might try asking nicely if she would please stay with him, instead of pounding his chest like a gorilla. If he knew she wouldn’t bolt, maybe he could calm down.

“Here’s your order, sir.”

He took the bag, muttering a distracted thanks, and burst through the restaurant doors. He started through the parking lot at a brisk walk, which quickly transformed into a lope, then to a dead run. The more excess nervous energy he got rid of now, the better his chances of not fucking up with Annie.

The thought hit him just as he was shoving the key card into the back door of the motel. It froze him into place for a good fifteen seconds.

He shoved open the door and took the stairs. He needed at least four flights of stairs to process this revolutionary concept. Annie, cuddled up with him on his couch, watching videos and eating popcorn. He wondered if she would like how he had rebuilt his condo. Whatever. He could rebuild it to suit her if she didn’t. Annie in a beautiful evening gown, looking gorgeous on his arm at the annual New Year’s gala charity ball. Annie meeting his parents. That slowed him down for a moment. Dad was no problem; one look at those big gray eyes and the old man would be eating right out of her hand. Mama would be tougher, but Annie could win her over, he thought optimistically. He would just buy Annie a pastel linen suit and some little pearl earrings, and she could take care of the rest.

By the time he got to the top of the last flight of stairs, he was already planning the guest list. It was so simple, so obvious, so perfect. Why the hell hadn’t he thought of this before? He could have been in bed right now, cuddling his fascinating, sexy fiancee. He fished the key card out of his pocket, hoping she would still be in the tub.

He felt her absence like a blow when the door swung open. He forced himself to look around and check the bathroom, even though he knew it was too late. He looked out the front window. The motorcycle sat where her pickup had been. The bag of food fell to the floor.

He should have known better than to turn his back on her. Jacob grabbed the silver dollar off the bed and stared down at the single word scrawled across the sheet of motel stationery, clutching the coin so tightly that it bit into his palm. Then he spotted the crumpled sheet of paper on the floor, and lunged for it. He smoothed out the wrinkles and read “
I love you
.”

His knees gave way and he landed hard on the bed.

He wanted to howl like a wolf and trash the room, but there was no time to indulge himself. If he didn’t catch up with her by the time she reached the Black Cat, he might never find her. He yanked his jacket from the floor and shrugged it on, thanking God for automatic checkout. He dug in the pocket for his keys. His body froze.

He dug in the other pocket. The inside pockets. He turned the pockets inside out. He checked every horizontal surface in the room, sweeping brochures, menus, stationery, cable guides, all onto the floor.

Then he punched the wall so hard that the surreal duck picture slid down the wall behind the TV. The crash and tinkle of breaking glass and the blood on his knuckles did not make him feel any better.

Christmas Eve at the Black Cat Casino was rowdy and crazed, ablaze with colored Christmas lights. Annie felt as drab as a field mouse as she fingered her little sack of silver dollars and stared at what she was almost certain was her lucky slot machine. She had never felt so unlucky in her life. She had a gaping hole inside her and her luck was leaking out of it, swirling like a whirlpool in a bathtub drain. She could feel the miserable little swirling sensation deep in her gut.

Of course, that feeling could be the result of not eating or sleeping. She’d just driven endlessly, stopping to doze now and then at rest stops until a state trooper knocked on her window, reminding her that she wasn’t in a campground and it was time to move along.

Buck up, she told herself. You made it. You’re here. But still she stared at the machine, a sick, sinking fear in her belly. Not that she might lose her money; that was the least of her worries. Her fear was that she’d made a terrible mistake back in Bernhard, Arkansas. She’d torn her heart out of her body and left it in a budget-motel room. And she didn’t even know his last name. She’d burned her bridges utterly.

Well, that was Annie Simon for you. If there was one thing she was spectacularly good at, it was burning bridges. In her current luckless state, she’d be smarter to just take her silver dollars and buy herself a sandwich and a cheap room for the night.

Stubborn pride stiffened her backbone. She couldn’t give up now. She’d come too far, given up too much. She had to at least try.

She let out her breath in a long sigh, held her lucky dollars in both hands and closed her eyes. Concentrate, she told herself. Think lucky thoughts. New beginnings. Sunrises. The Milky Way. Colored balloons rising into a clear blue sky. Ice cream.

But Jacob’s face was burned into her memory. His huge, out-of-control grin lighting him up like a Christmas tree. It was impossible to think of anything else. It hurt her heart to think of him.

She opened the bag and began to play, sliding in coin after coin and yanking down the handle. She lost, lost, won eleven dollars. Lost six times in a row, won three dollars. Lost, lost, lost, won two. Lost, lost, lost, in a long string. The dollars drained away with that same miserable, swirling, bathroom drain feeling.

Finally she was holding the last coin. She slipped it into the slot with fatalistic calm. Lost.

Well. That was that. She stared at the machine with blank, numb relief. Now she knew. No more surprises. Down to ground zero.

It was time to head to the ladies’ room, to wash her face and comb her hair. Eleven o’clock on Christmas Eve in a casino wasn’t the ideal time or place for job hunting, but she had nothing better to do. She squared her shoulders, turned.

Her heart skipped a beat, and started to gallop.

Jacob stood there, his hair loose and windblown, his face haggard and unshaven. A silver dollar gleamed in his outstretched hand. “You’ve got one more coin to play, Annie,” he said quietly.

She drank in the sight of his pale, weary, incredibly beautiful face. “I gave that dollar to you,” she whispered. For luck.“

He shook his head. “I want more than that from you.”

“What do you want?” she forced out.

His eyes burned into hers with piercing intensity for a moment, and then a brief, tired smile flashed on his face, softening his harsh expression. “Everything,” he admitted.

She tried to laugh, but it came out like a sob. “You think big.”

“You better believe it,” he said, reaching for her.

She was losing herself in his eyes, and she couldn’t fight it anymore. Her eyes filled with tears as his lips met hers with a kiss of reverent, hushed gentleness, as if she were precious, sacred, adored.

“I love you, Annie,” he whispered. His arms tightened and he hugged her so tightly that she could barely breathe.

The colored lights began to dip and spin around her. She wound her arms around his big solid frame and hung on. “You do?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice muffled against her hair. “Don’t run away from me again. I need you.”

“Oh, God, I need you too,” she choked out. “I love you, Jacob.”

His arms tightened. “Then you’ll marry me?”

She blinked, astonished. “Marry you?”

His voice was urgent. “I only acted like a lunatic because I’m madly in love with you, and you made me chase you all over hell’s half acre. Promise to marry me, and I swear to God I’ll calm right down.”