Finding Kate Huntley (19 page)

Auntie made him feel uneasy. She looked harmless enough. Maybe it was the way her eyes looked fearful one moment and then angry the next, as if they’d messed up her plans in some way.

“Jack,” Kate said, clearly exasperated. “Why don’t you tell Auntie about the first time Agent Harrison spoke to you about leaving for Haiti...how you were promoted, then framed for the murder of Dr. Forstin.”

“If you two don’t mind,” he said, pushing away from the table and standing. “I could use a hot shower and a few hours of sleep. When I wake up,” he said, his gaze still on Auntie, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Jack was drying himself with a towel when Kate joined him in the guestroom where Auntie had said they could sleep.

Kate plunked a hand on her hip. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

He removed the towel from his waist and used it to dry his hair. When he finished, he looked at her.

It took her a moment to draw her gaze upward to his face.

He winked.

She crossed her arms tight against her chest. “What has gotten into you, Jack? Ever since you stepped into Auntie’s house you’ve been acting like a jerk.”

“I don’t like her.”

“That’s it?”

“My instincts, those natural impulses you keep telling me to listen to, are screaming in my ear, telling me your Auntie is not who you think she is.”

“Since when have you started using your instincts?”

“Tonight,” he said, clearly agitated. “I started tonight.”

“This is exactly the sort of thing I’m talking about. You don’t sound like yourself. You had a perfect opportunity to make Auntie feel comfortable about having a wanted criminal in her house, but instead you made her nervous.”

“My instincts also tell me it would take more than one man to scare your Auntie. She has nerves of steel. Just look into those icy cold eyes of hers.”

“Keep your voice down,” Kate said, gesturing toward the door. “She might hear you.”

“What you sensed coming from Auntie was distaste, not distrust,” he said. “I’m telling you that woman is not happy about the two of us making a surprise visit. There’s something about her that’s not all there. Something strange is going on here. Trust me.”

“I was beginning to trust you, Jack. Now I don’t know.”

He shut off the lamp, climbed under the covers, and patted the other side of the bed. “Come on. Get in bed. If the police haven’t dragged me to jail by morning, we can talk then. My eyelids feel like cement blocks. My body feels like it has been used as a punching bag. If you feel like talking go ahead. I’m all ears.”

Ten seconds later, the only thing Kate heard was the steady sound of Jack’s breathing. She went to her side of the bed, climbed on top of the mattress, and lay beside him. Turning toward him, she said, “I want to trust you, Jack.” She placed her hand over his heart and wished things could be different. She didn’t want to spend every minute on guard, every muscle tense, every nerve on alert. Ever since meeting Jack, she’d yearned for a gentler life where she would be free from fear of the unknown.

Her father would have liked Jack, she decided, as the steady beat of his heart lulled her to sleep.

Chapter 24

The sound of a chainsaw woke Jack with a start. He jumped out of bed. As the morning fog cleared from his head, he looked through the window and saw a team of gardeners at the side of the house, trimming trees and hedges.

He hadn’t been dragged to jail, after all. He could only hope that was a good thing. Where was Kate? he wondered. Judging by the dents in the mattress, both sides of the bed had been slept in. He retrieved his shorts from the tufted leather wing chair in the corner of the room, and slid them on. A full night’s sleep had done him good...good enough to make him feel a wave of guilt at treating Kate’s Auntie rudely. It made sense that the woman would be wary of him, that she wouldn’t want a fugitive sleeping in her house. And yet, still, something about her niggled at the back of his mind. Auntie hadn’t asked Kate one question about where she had been all these years. Neither did she appear bowled over at seeing a girl she supposedly thought was dead. If his sister walked into the room right now, his heart would stop beating, and if he survived the heart attack, he would gladly shake the hand of the fugitive who had brought her back and kept her safe. He would have a million questions, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he had answers.

Auntie, on the other hand, hadn’t seemed the least bit fazed that Kate showed up in the dead of night and was in her kitchen drinking tea.

As he moved toward the mirror hanging above the dresser, Jack looked around for his shirt. He ruffled his fingers through his hair. The room, he noticed in the morning light, was lavishly decorated with antique mahogany furniture, heavily carved framed mirrors, and a large marble-top dresser. The base of the bedside lamps were bronzed statues with a cherub and flower design. Although he wasn’t an antique connoisseur by any means, he’d seen enough collectibles confiscated from homes of drug dealers and other criminals of great wealth to know an antique when he saw one. For someone who ran a nonprofit organization, the woman sure did live the good life. A gilt-framed picture of Auntie huddled up close with the Bush family sat on the dresser next to an impressive cobalt and bronze decorative urn. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were ashes inside, but he really didn’t want to know, so he didn’t look. Another picture of Auntie with George Clooney hung on the wall next to the mirror. He picked up a decorative porcelain vase at the same time the door to the bedroom opened.

Jack set the vase down, relieved to see Kate looking well. Her hair was swept back out of her face and clipped in the back. She sported a brown form-fitting tracksuit with long sleeves and a drawstring waistband. She held a pile of folded clothing in her hands.

“You look great,” he told her.

“Thanks. Auntie and I wear the same size. Did you sleep well?”

He nodded, but he didn’t like the awkward stiffness floating between them. For the first time since he’d met Kate, he felt like a stranger standing before her. Maybe because she looked so put together. Or was it because she wasn’t ordering him around or cursing at him? Whatever the reason, it was downright unnerving.

Her eyes had lost some of their empty hollowness and the two or three pounds she’d gained since coming to the States gave her a healthy glow. He had a feeling Kate had no idea how breathtakingly beautiful she was.

“I’m sorry about last night.” He exhaled. “I was tired. I shouldn’t have been so hard on the woman.”

“I told Auntie how exhausted you were. She understands.” Kate moved toward him and handed him the pile of clothes she was holding: a pair of jeans and a couple of clean shirts. “It turns out that Auntie is hosting a fundraiser tonight, right here at the house. She’s invited us to attend.”

Jack set the clothes on the edge of the dresser and gave her a crooked, disbelieving smile. “As your Auntie reminded me last night, I’m a fugitive. I don’t think now is a good time for me to attend any parties.”

She brushed warm fingers over his bare arm. “Her nephew is away in Europe. She said you could borrow his clothes. We could dye your hair back to its original color.”

“Kate.”

She came closer and kissed his shoulder. Her mouth made a downward trail across his collarbone. His blood warmed. Shivers coursed through his veins.

“These people won’t recognize you because they don’t watch the news,” she said between kisses. “They spend their days on the golf course and in the best salons, listening to tranquil music while having their toes painted. Come on, Jack. It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll show you fun.” He picked her up by the waist and brought her to the bed.

She laughed. “Jack. We can’t.”

He pulled a condom from his front pocket and said, “Oh, yes. We can.”

She laughed again.

He liked the sound of her laughter, liked the way her eyes danced as she threw her head back.

He locked the door, stripped himself of his shorts and came at her like an animal stalking its prey.

She wriggled on the bed, but she didn’t try to escape. He took hold of her ankles and dragged her to the end of the mattress until she was close enough where he could grab hold of the waistband of her pants and slide them off of her.

Despite being half naked, her eyes still held a heavy dose of amusement. “Do you mean to tell me that everything you owned was left on that plane, including your computer, but somehow you managed to hang on to a condom?”

“I don’t mean to tell you anything. I mean to show you.”

“So Jack Coffey has a wild side, after all?”

“Wild is my middle name. I thought I already showed you that the other day.” He unzipped her sweatshirt and helped her out of it. “There,” he said, gazing down at her. “That’s better.”

She smiled as she reached for him. “I like this side of you, Jack. I think you’ve finally shed a layer of your stiff outer shell.”

As he crawled on top of her, she pushed herself away from the footboard and toward the headboard.

He used his arms and legs to keep propped above her, leaving a bit of space between their bodies. The tips of her breasts grazed his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh so freely before today,” he told her, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her fingers brushed over his chest, her gaze following their path. She looked to his mouth. “Kiss me, will you?”

“Whatever you say.” He covered her mouth with his and kissed her thoroughly this time, his mouth warm, his tongue hot. With a whispered moan, she curled her arms around his neck and pressed her hips closer. He kissed her throat, her cheek, her ear. Blood flowed hot through her veins, every inch of her craving his touch. She’d never felt as if she needed anyone like she needed Jack.

“Tell me you want me,” he said, the sound of his husky voice arousing her almost as much as having his body pressed against hers.

“I want you.”

He nibbled her ear. “Say it like you mean it.”

“Jack,” she said in a breathless whisper, the tip of her tongue grazing his jaw. “I feel as if I’ve waited my whole life for you to find me, hold me, and make love to me.”

Bringing his mouth back to hers, he coaxed her lips open so he could kiss her deeply while his fingers slid downward over her hips and between her thighs. His warm breath spilled across her neck and shoulders. “What are you feeling now?” he asked, his voice still a husky whisper.

“Hot,” she said. “Alive.”

His hand remained between her legs, stroking and making her whimper as she urged him onward. Devilish charm lit up his eyes as he took hold of her wrists and pushed her arms back, flat against the soft mattress.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “When I said I wanted you, I meant now.”

A crooked grin curved his lips before he lowered his head and nibbled at her ear. “What is it you want exactly?”

“You,” she said, her voice lined with frustration. “I want you.”

“How badly do you want me?”

“Badly enough to start cursing if you don’t get down to business soon.”

Satisfied, he let go of her wrists. He pushed himself to his knees and slipped on the condom. His muscles flexed. She would never get tired of looking at Jack Coffey. When he finished sliding on the condom, he looked down at her.

Her patience had worn thin. She wriggled against him, making him grin as his fingers trailed softly over her body, exploring. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

“You’re not playing fair.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“No,” she said. “It’s not a game.” Her palm brushed against his jaw. She liked to be the one in charge, but with Jack it was different. For Jack, she would do almost anything, and in that instant, as she looked into his eyes, she realized he already knew that.

Her fingers pressed into his buttocks, splayed against his backside, as he entered her. There was no holding back for either of them. He finally caved, giving her what she wanted, giving until she cried out softly as her body quivered beneath him. Jack Coffey had risked his life to bring her home. He would do anything to protect her. He believed in her, and he loved her. He made her feel beautiful and alive.

He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her face. His hands slid beneath the curve of her bottom. A second rippling sensation erupted, shattered, and then finally wound down into small pleasurable pulses.

Once their heartbeats slowed, Jack slid to her side, leaving one hand to rest on her stomach. Content, she burrowed her head between his shoulders and just breathed.

After a quick shower, Jack used a towel to dry himself while Kate, fully dressed, leaned over the bathroom sink and fixed her hair.

She followed Jack into the bedroom, watched him reach for a clean T-shirt and slide it over his head. “So, did you change your mind about the party?” she asked.

He didn’t answer and that worried her.

“When I talked to Auntie this morning,” she went on, “I learned that Auntie did know about Dr. Forstin’s death. The poor woman has taken his death very hard.”

Jack slid on his socks and shoes.

“She’s on our side, Jack. Apparently the sheriff owes her a favor. I gave her the note from Brooklynn, you know, the one with the license plate number of the vehicle at Forstin’s lab. She called the sheriff to ask him about it. He already called her back. The vehicle belongs to a John Wheaton. Does that name ring any bells?”

He shook his head. “Tell me you didn’t give her the disc.”

Kate stiffened. “The disc has already been picked up by courier.”

Jack moaned.

“I don’t understand. I thought we came here to get help.”

He grabbed hold of her hand, his gaze was piercing. “Let’s call the police right now,” he pleaded. “It’s not too late. I know what it’s like to want revenge, Kate. I didn’t think I’d ever know a good night’s sleep until my sister’s killer was buried ten feet under, but I was wrong. I will see her killer behind bars eventually, but I’m going to do it legally. Justice will be served.”

Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Not this again. Don’t try to change my mind, Jack. I will find the man who ordered my father’s death, and I will see to it that justice prevails. The only difference is that I refuse to waste my time with all that bullshit bureaucracy.”

“Wouldn’t it be a relief to get everything out in the open?” Jack sighed. “You wouldn’t have to watch your own shadow any longer,” he said. “You could move back to New York City if you wanted to. You could get an apartment. Why not let your hair grow back to its natural color? Get back into the swing of things and start living again.”

“What, you don’t like my hair color?”

“On the contrary.”

She snorted. “I guess you’ve never had a redhead and a blonde in the same week.”

He laughed. And when her eyes flashed, he said, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Well good, because I don’t want to know about your boring sex life.” She pulled her hand back. “For the record, I don’t like guys like you who act like they know what’s best for a girl like me. You’re making me feel claustrophobic. Maybe I don’t want an apartment in New York. Maybe I want to go back to Haiti where the people aren’t coddled like you Americans. The people of Haiti are resilient and real. They don’t take anything for granted, not even a damn drop of fresh water.”

He didn’t say a word.

“You think you know what’s best for me just because you’ve read a thin file back at the office?” she asked. “Well, I never laid eyes on you until last week and I’ve got you pegged.” She didn’t know why she felt so angry all of a sudden, but she did. She wanted to hurt him for making her care. She jabbed his shoulder with her finger. “You probably have a nice shiny Rolex in the top drawer of your dresser and spit-shined shoes in your closet. I bet you have row after row of starched white shirts hanging above those shoes and a drawer full of boring ties and neatly rolled socks. Before your parents moved away, you had roast beef for dinner at your mother’s house every other Sunday. And you’re probably way too busy playing the field to think about settling down with a wife and 2.5 kids. Maybe in another ten years you’ll be ready to shut your laptop long enough to settle down. You’ll expect your new wife to keep the kids quiet and have your dinner ready by five. Odds are she’ll be someone nice and boring and predictable...like you.”

He chucked her softly under the chin. “That’s my Kate.”

A muscle in her jaw twitched. “Maybe you’re the one who should live a little, maybe let your hair grow out.” She reached toward his face and let the tips of her fingers swirl around the hair above his ear. “Maybe you could really live dangerously and let your hair grow past your shoulders, long enough so that you can tie it back when it gets too hot.”

His lips quirked upward. “I might do that.”

Her anger dissipated. She dropped her hand and looked toward the window. She didn’t want to admit it, but maybe he was right. Maybe her father didn’t really want her to spend her life hiding from the world. What if Jack was right and she could one day be free of the nightmares that haunted her sleep? “You know what my father said before he sank into the bowels of the Atlantic?”

His features softened. “What?”

“He said don’t trust anyone. Not a single solitary soul.”

Jack remained quiet, looking as if he really didn’t know what to say in response.