Blackwood's Woman (11 page)

"She
did
love him. She never forgot him. Never loved anyone else."

"Yeah, sure. Look, Jo, if she'd really loved Benjamin, she'd have given up everything and stayed out here in New Mexico with him."

"How could she have done that? It wasn't as if all she had to do was pack her bags and leave her husband. She had two children. And it was Benjamin who told her she couldn't sacrifice her children for him. That if she did, someday she'd grow to hate him."

F:/…/Beverly Barton - Blackwood's Wo…

43/137

him."

10/31/2009

Blackwood's Woman

"Annabelle's diary sure has you hooked, doesn't it?" J.T. handed her a sandwich.

"Elena packed chips and pickles. Want some?"

"No, thank you." She unwrapped the sliced sandwich, lifted one of the halves to her mouth and took a bite.

"Hey, there's no need for you to get upset with me or pout," J.T. said. "You and I disagree about our great-grandparents' affair. You think it was some grand passion, some eternal love, and that they're up in heaven now, reunited and happy. I, on the other hand, think they had the hots for each other, sneaked off together every chance they could, but when the summer ended, they went their separate ways without a bunch of mushy sentimental exchanges or broken hearts."

Joanna chewed slowly, swallowed, and took another bite. She turned her back on J.T., not wanting to listen to him make light of their great-grandparents' tragic love affair. Obviously, the man didn't have a romantic, loving bone in his body.

J.T. grasped her shoulder. She jumped, then jerked around and faced him. "You don't know the first thing about love. Real love. The kind Annabelle and Benjamin shared."

"Let's drop the subject." He squeezed her shoulder. She glared at his hand.

Immediately, he slipped his hand down her arm. His touch was light, but sensual.

Joanna shivered. J.T. lifted his hand, clutched her chin and tilted her face. "Besides, we've got more important things to discuss than our ancestors."

Joanna held up her right hand in J.T.'s face. "You might hot believe in mushy, sentimental exchanges or passionate, everlasting love, but Benjamin Greymountain did. He put his whole heart into crafting this ring." She grabbed J.T.'s right hand, lifting it in hers. "And this one. These rings symbolized everything he felt. Everything he and Annabelle had shared."

J.T. glared at her. Her heart pounded, the beat drowning out every other sound.

He grasped her by the back of the neck, sliding one hand under her long ponytail while gripping her waist with the other, and drawing her toward him.

"What do you want me to say, Jo?" He lowered his head, his lips so close to hers that he felt her breath on his mouth. "Okay. Maybe Annabelle and Benjamin were in love. How do I know? What the hell difference does it make? Just because you and I inherited their rings, doesn't mean there's some special bond between us."

Who was he trying so damned hard to convince—her or himself? He wanted to deny it, wanted to pretend it didn't exist. But it did. There
was
some sort of bond between him and Joanna. There had been since the moment they met. But it wasn't what she thought it was, wasn't what she wanted. It was plain, old-fashioned lust.

And J.T. would bet his last dollar that lust had been the overriding emotion between Benjamin and Annabelle.

J.T. wanted to take Joanna. Here. Now. On this hard, hot rock in the middle of nowhere, with only the birds and the insects and the big blue sky as witnesses. And perhaps the
ghosts of two long-dead lovers. Had his great-grandfather felt this way about Annabelle? Had his blood run hot every time he'd touched her?

J.T. took Joanna in his arms, kissing her as he had longed to kiss her since the day they met. A wild, hungry passion ruled his actions. He was neither gentle nor patient.

When she did not respond, but sat in his arms, stiff and unyielding, he thrust his tongue into her mouth and cupped her hip with one hand while he held her head in place with the other.

He ended the kiss abruptly, resting his forehead against hers. His breathing was F:/…/Beverly Barton - Blackwood's Wo…

44/137

He

10/31/2009 ended the kiss abruptly, resting his forehea Blackwood's Woman d against hers. His breathing was ragged and harsh. Taking her shoulders in his hands, he held her at arm's length.

"I'm sorry, Jo. I didn't mean to be so rough. I'm not used to taking things easy or being gentle."

She looked directly at him. "You think I need to be handled with kid gloves, don't you? Because of the rape. You think I'm not normal anymore, that I can't react the way a normal woman would."

"I don't think any such thing." He rubbed her shoulders. "I just think my kiss might have been a little too brutal. You froze solid in my arms, honey."

"For your information, you aren't the first man who's kissed me since … I have dated. There have been other men. Is your ego so enormous you think all you had to do was kiss me and I'd fall at your feet, that you would be the only one who could sexually arouse me?"

"Did you respond to any of these men you dated?" His touch on her shoulders softened. "Did you have sex with any of them?"

"I—I don't think that's any of your business."

He ran one hand across her shoulder, then draped his big fingers around the side of her neck, caressing her with tenderness. "I made you a promise to protect you, to keep you safe. Now, I'm going to make you another promise. I promise that I'll never take your power and control away from you. That even if I possess you completely, it will be only because you've given me the right."

Joanna shivered. He was telling her that he wanted her, that he expected them to become lovers. Did she want him? Was she prepared to be his lover? "There hasn't been anyone since… My former fiancé and I—"

Releasing her, not touching her at all, J.T. lowered his head and kissed her again.

This time his mouth moved over hers with soft, tender passion. When she made no protest, he deepened the kiss by slow degrees. Joanna slipped her arms around his neck, encouraging him, responding, hesitantly at first, but soon taking charge of the kiss. When she was breathless and trembling, she eased away from him and stood.

The bright afternoon sun coated her with warmth. She breathed deeply, then smiled at J.T. "You're a man of your word, aren't you, J.T. Blackwood?"

"I try to be," he said. "If I give a promise, I keep it."

She nodded, then turned away from him and looked back down over the wide expanse of northwestern New Mexico's rugged yet fiercely beautiful landscape. Did believing J.T. was a man of his word mean that she trusted him? She wanted to trust him—indeed, needed to trust him—and perhaps, on some level, she did. But not completely, and never with her heart.

"Before we left the ranch this morning, you said we needed to talk, and I know it wasn't about Annabelle and Benjamin," Joanna said.

He stood, walked over to her and drew her back up against his chest. She relaxed against him.

"I talked to Lieutenant George." Joanna tensed in his arms. "He has contacted Claire Andrews and Libby Felton."

"How did he find Libby?" Joanna asked.

"It wasn't difficult. She has a driver's license, a couple of credit cards. She files income taxes."

"Oh, I never thought about how easy it would be to find her. Where is she living now?"

"Texas," J.T. said.

F:/…/Beverly Barton - Blackwood's Wo…

45/137

"T

10/31/2009exas," J.T. said.

Blackwood's Woman

"What else did Lieutenant George tell you?"

"Plott seems to have disappeared, and left no trace." J.T. hugged her to him. "And even if Plott has more trouble than the authorities had getting the information he needs on you and the other two women, it won't be impossible for him to get it."

"What are you saying? That if Plott wants to find us, he can?"

"I'm afraid so. I contacted an old friend of mine, Dane Carmichael. He's an FBI agent. You realize the Feds are already involved. They were called in when Melody Horton was kidnapped."

"And?"

"Hell, Jo. Why didn't you tell me Plott had millions of dollars at his disposal? The guy is some sort of Virginia blue-blood whose name is really Leonard Mayfield Plott III, and he comes from the same kind of wealthy, aristocratic background you do."

"I know." She crossed her arms over J.T.'s where they wrapped around her. "But I don't see what his background has to do with—"

"A guy with that kind of money can pay to get any information he needs. God knows how much he paid out to engineer his escape from prison."

"He's going to find me, isn't he? And when he knows where I am, he'll come after me."

"Yeah, there's a good chance that sooner or later he'll come to Trinidad. But we'll be ready for him. I'll keep you safe."

They stood there, looking down at the canyon below them. Joanna thought she heard the sound of drums somewhere off in the distance, but when she saw a streak of lightning on the far horizon, followed by a low rumble of thunder, she realized she had imagined the drums—just as she had imagined them the first time she'd seen J.T.

* * *

At sunset, J.T. drove up to the ranch house and parked, then rounded the vehicle, lifted Joanna's sketch pad from her lap and assisted her.

"J.T.!" Elena ran out into the yard. "I was just going to call you on your cellular phone when Alex heard you drive up."

"What's wrong?" Joanna asked.

Alex stepped off the porch. Elena turned to him, her eyes pleading. Alex looked directly at J.T. "That Lieutenant George just phoned from Richmond. It seems Claire Andrews received a phone call from Lenny Plott this afternoon. He warned her that he was heading west, that he had business in Missouri and he'd be seeing her soon."

Joanna gasped, then covered her mouth with her clutched fist. J.T. put his arm around her and pulled her up against him.

"He's found out where Claire lives," Joanna said. "How long will it be before he finds me, too?"

Chapter 6

« ^ »

H
is hand closed over her mouth, silencing her scream. He gazed down into her
eyes and laughed when he saw the terror she could not hide.

"I promised I'd get out of prison and hunt you down, didn't I?" Lenny Plott's grin
F:/…/Beverly Barton - Blackwood's Wo…

46/137

"I

10/31/2009
promised I'd get out of prison and hunt you
Blackwood's Woman
down, didn't I?" Lenny Plott's grin
widened as he laid the knife across her throat. "I warned you that you'd be sorry if
you testified against me. You and the other three."

She struggled to free herself pushing up against him, but he pressed her down,
trapping her with his body.

"You can't get away from me. There's no one here to save you." He removed his
hand from her mouth, then kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue inside.

Joanna moaned. He slipped his hand under her gown, inching his way up her
leg.

No, please, dear God. Not again. Not ever again! She prayed he would go ahead
and kill her. She felt his fingers, painful and probing, and felt the knife at her
throat.

Joanna's scream rent the night air. She jerked straight up in bed. Sweat coated her body, drenching her nightgown. Trembling from head to toe, she grasped the bottom sheet with both hands as she tried to slow her harsh, accelerated breathing.

Reaching out a trembling hand, she switched on the bedside lamp.

A dream. Only a dream. But it had seemed so real. Too real. Had it been a premonition? Was it inevitable that she faced Lenny Plott again?

With his 9-mm Glock pistol held firmly and ready to fire, J.T. flung open the bedroom door and quickly scanned the area for an intruder. When he saw none, he turned to Joanna.

"What happened?" Replacing his gun in the shoulder holster he was wearing, he walked toward the bed. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Where did you come from?" Sliding to the side of the bed, she slipped her legs off the edge.

"I decided to have the ranch hands take turns standing guard outside. Starting last night. I woke up early and came over to relieve Chuck Webb." J.T. sat down beside Joanna. "I hadn't been here more than ten minutes when I heard you screaming."

Joanna scooted away from J.T., not thinking rationally, only feeling vulnerable and insecure. "It was just a dream. A nightmare, really."

"Must have been some nightmare," J.T. said. "Want to tell me about it?" Joanna was acting skittish, like a spooked mare, he thought. If only she would let him, he'd take her in his arms and hold her, but he could see plainly that she didn't want to be touched. Not right now.

Joanna shook her head. "I'd like to forget it."

"Think you can go back to sleep?" he asked.

"No." She wondered if she'd ever sleep again without fearing the return of the nightmares. For months after the rape, in fact for nearly a year, she had seldom slept the whole night through. "What time is it?"

"It's about five o'clock. If you don't think you can go back to sleep, I'll fix us some coffee."

J.T. stood, but stopped abruptly before taking a step when he felt the tentative touch of Joanna's fingertips against his hand. He looked down at her hand reaching out for him. His chest tightened; his stomach knotted. Turning his hand upside down, he offered her his open palm. Damn, but he wanted to grab her, drag her into his arms and hold her close and safe. Instead he waited, holding his breath.

She laid her hand in his, threading her fingers through his fingers, clasping their hands together.

Nothing in his life had prepared him for the feelings that coursed through him at F:/…/Beverly Barton - Blackwood's Wo…

47/137

No

10/31/2009 thing in his life had prepared him for the fe Blackwood's Woman elings that coursed through him at that precise moment. Desire softened by overwhelming tenderness. A fierce protectiveness that made him want to fight the world for her. And a primitive possessiveness that shouted,
This woman is mine!