Iris Johansen (15 page)

“Considering your lack of experience, I didn’t want to do anything to discourage you,” he drawled mischievously. “It might have scarred you psychologically.”

Janna gave a derisive and unladylike snort, but she didn’t answer. She was too languid and content to bother with badinage. They lay for a long peaceful moment, the only sound the steady drumming of the rain on the roof. Suddenly Rafe broke into a deep, amused chuckle, and Janna tilted back her head to look at his face.

Rafe’s lips were twitching, and his dark eyes twinkling with mischief, as he said solemnly, “I’ve heard jokes about the farmer’s daughter all my life.” He
kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. “And now that I’ve had one, I believe every one of them!”

The sun was setting in a cloud of pink and lavender glory when the helicopter landed on the pad at Santine’s Castle, and Janna eyed it appreciatively as Rafe lifted her down from the copter and slammed the door behind them.

“It looks like they didn’t see any rain here at all,” she observed casually as he took her hand and they set out for the house.

He gave her a mocking glance. “We didn’t see much rain ourselves either, if you recall,” he said, his lips twitching. “Though we did hear quite a bit of it.”

Janna made a face at him, and he laughed softly, his hand tightening about her own. They’d spent the entire afternoon in the hayloft making love, then lazily talking, then making love again, in a passionate cycle that probably could have gone on through the night. She remembered ruefully after that first time she’d been so replete that she couldn’t imagine she’d want him again so soon. Yet he’d only had to show her his own need for her to take fire. She felt a little tingle surge through her even now as she glanced down at the play of the strong muscles of his thighs under the close-fitting pants. She looked up again quickly, color staining her cheeks. Good God, for a woman who’d been a virgin only yesterday, she was turning into a regular nymphomaniac.

They were in the courtyard now, and the rosy rays of the setting sun cast a mellow glow over the beigeand-pink tiles and gave the mansion itself an aura of welcoming warmth. It looked almost homey, Janna thought contentedly. Who would have guessed two weeks ago that she would ever have thought of Santine’s Castle as home?

“Janna.”

Rafe had stopped by the fountain, and she looked
up at him inquiringly, noting how the light that had mellowed everything else only served to heighten the bold roughness of Rafe’s features. Yet there was no hardness in his eyes right now. Strange that she’d never realized dark eyes could be so warm.

“I want to talk to you,” he said softly, his expression grave.

Janna felt a tiny ripple of uneasiness run through her that pierced the glow of mental and physical euphoria enfolding her. She didn’t want to talk, she thought desperately. This afternoon had been a lovely moment out of time, and all reason and practical considerations had been suspended. She didn’t want to give that up as yet. “Why don’t we wait until after dinner?” she suggested lightly.

He shook his head stubbornly. “Now,” he said, scowling blackly. “This isn’t going to be easy for me, and I want to get it over with.”

Janna looked up, her eyes wide with alarm, and his face softened miraculously. His hand reached out to touch the curve of her cheek caressingly. “Don’t look like that, doe eyes,” he said huskily. “You should know by now what a rough bastard I am. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m just feeling damn awkward and I don’t like it.”

“I’m not frightened,” Janna replied calmly. But she had been frightened for a moment. How quickly she’d become used to seeing only tenderness and desire on Rafe’s face when he looked at her. It had actually startled her when she’d seen that flash of hardness in his expression just now.

“Good,” Rafe said, his face oddly vulnerable as he looked down at her. “I don’t want you ever to be afraid of me, Janna.” His lips curved wryly. “That’s another first for me. I think I’ve always fostered an element of fear in all my relationships; it increased my sense of power and control.”

“And that’s important to you?” Janna asked gently.

“Hell, yes, it’s important,” Rafe said sharply. “I
had enough pushing around as a kid to last me for a lifetime. No one’s ever going to have the power to do that to me again. I run things now.”

“You certainly do,” Janna said wryly. “I don’t think you need worry about anyone trying to intimidate you these days. You’re very much in control, Rafe Santine.”

“Am I?” Rafe asked softly, his hand tracing the curve of her lower lip. “Somehow I don’t think I am. At least not with you. I’ve even reached the point where I don’t care whether I am or not any more. That’s quite a victory for you.”

“Victory?” Janna’s eyes clouded with distress. “I don’t think I like that term. I’ve never wanted any victory over you, Rafe.”

“I know. You’re regrettably lacking in competitive spirit. You weren’t even jealous of Diane, damn it.” His hands fell to her shoulders, absently kneading the muscles beneath his fingers. He frowned impatiently. “Regardless of your intentions, the result is still the same. Now, be quiet until I get this out, blast it.”

Janna’s lips twitched in amusement before she fell obediently silent.

“I’m probably not going to do this very well,” he said gruffly, his hands tightening on her shoulders as he scowled down at her. “I want you to stay with me. Not just until I go back to San Francisco, as you’ve agreed.” He drew a deep breath and asked abruptly. “I want you to move in with me permanently.” He frowned fiercely before muttering reluctantly, “Please.”

If she hadn’t been so startled, Janna would have been amused and touched at that last rusty entreaty. How long had it been since Rafe had asked for anything? “You want me to become your live-in mistress?” she asked bewilderedly. “Like Diane?”

“Not like Diane,” he denied roughly. “It wouldn’t be
like that. I never gave a damn about Diane or any of the others.” He paused, as if searching for words; then: “You’re
important
to me, Janna.”

“It wouldn’t work,” she said flatly. “You know it wouldn’t work, Rafe.” Why did she feel this terrible aching emptiness as she uttered those words?

“How the hell do you know it wouldn’t work until you try it?” he asked, giving her a little shake that was far from loverlike. “All my life I’ve been making ideas and situations work that everyone told me were impossible, so don’t tell me we can’t do this. I’ll
make
it work.”

“This isn’t boardroom politics or taking over a company, Rafe,” Janna said huskily. “We’re two individuals who are as far apart as two people could be. We don’t even want the same things out of life.”

“We want each other,” he said grimly. “And that covers a hell of a lot of territory right there.”

“You’ve wanted a good many women before me,” Janna said coolly. “Sex may be the universal panacea, but it’s never been a lasting one in your case. It would hardly be wise to base any permanent relationship on a purely physical foundation.”

“So help me God, if you throw that ‘biological coupling’ phrase at me again, I’ll break your neck,” he said between his teeth. “I don’t deny I fully intend to enjoy that luscious body at every opportunity. Hell, I’d like to rip the clothes off you and take you right here and now, but I want more than that.” For a moment there was a curiously lost, defenseless look on his face. “I ache for you,” he said softly. “I want you close to me. I want to hear you laugh and watch your expressions. I feel lonely when you’re not in the same room with me.” He laughed mirthlessly. “God, I sound like a love-sick kid. Well, maybe I am. I haven’t had any experience with the emotion, so I’m not likely to recognize the symptoms. Am I in love with you, Janna?”

She bit her lip. “How do I know?” she asked
miserably. “I’ve never even thought about being in love. I doubt if it’s very likely, though.”

For an instant she thought she saw a flash of pain in his face, before it quickly hardened. “You’re probably right,” he said cynically. “Neither one of us knows anything about love.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “Correction. I love my work, and you love that precious grandmother of yours. Perhaps that should be enough for us.”

“Perhaps it should,” Janna said, her throat tight with pain. “It’s more than many people have.” She looked away from him, her lashes veiling her eyes. “It’s more than my grandmother had. A husband who married her to be a broodmare and a farm hand, a son who was ashamed of her, and a society that rejected her.” She looked up, her eyes bright with tears. “And she’s more worthy of being loved than any human being I’ve ever known.”

“She had you,” Rafe said gently.

“My grandmother is almost seventy years old,” Janna said. “There were a lot of years when she didn’t. She thought she’d be free when she left the reservation, but she found she’d only traded one form of bondage for another.”

“So you’re determined not to follow her example,” Rafe said harshly. “No ties, no commitments, no inconvenient emotions that will cause you to be tempted to give up even a portion of your freedom.” He shook his head wonderingly. “And I thought I was hard! I’m not asking you to give up anything, for God’s sake. If you want to go on with your career at the reserve, we’ll work out something so you can do it. I’m not even asking you to marry me. All I’m asking is that you stay with me until the magic goes away. Is that too much?”

Janna closed her eyes at the jolt of pain that rocked her. Lord, yes, it was too much. If she didn’t love Rafe now, she was so near it that it made little difference. The longer she stayed with him, the deeper
that love would grow, and she knew the magic wouldn’t go away for her even if it faded for Rafe. She couldn’t exchange her independence for the glittering fool’s gold Rafe was offering her. “I’m sorry, I just can’t do it,” she whispered huskily, opening eyes that were strained and haunted.

If possible, Rafe’s expression became even grimmer. “You mean you won’t do it,” he said harshly. His hands slowly loosened their grip on her shoulders and then dropped to his sides, releasing her. “Well, I still have three weeks of your company to look forward to. It’s amazing what can sometimes be accomplished in three weeks.” He gestured toward the house. “Shall we go in to dinner?”

She shot him a confused sidewise glance as she turned and fell into step with him. He intercepted the look and gave her a sardonic smile. “Are you thinking that I’m surrendering too easily?” he asked mockingly. “Very perceptive of you, Janna. But then, you’re a very intelligent woman.” He continued to stroll toward the courtyard door, his hand grasping her elbow politely. “I still intend to get exactly what I want,” he said coolly. “If you won’t give, I’ll have to take.” He smiled bitterly. “I’m good at that. I’ve had a hell of a lot of practice. I should have known better than to ask you in the first place. I’ve never yet found that ‘ask and you shall receive’ maxim to be effective.”

There was a thread of pain rippling beneath that bitter mockery that sent an answering hurt flooding through Janna. “You can’t force me to stay with you, Rafe,” she said quietly. “There’s really nothing you can do.”

“You’re wrong,” he said coolly. “There’s always something that can be done, an angle to be found. I want you, Janna, perhaps more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” There was absolute certainty in his voice. “I’ll find a way of getting you.” The impersonal glance he gave her contrasted oddly with the
passion of his words. “For instance, you might consider that, at the end of those weeks, there may be something hindering your freedom that you hadn’t counted on.”

“What do you mean?” Janna asked, her brow creasing in puzzlement.

“I had no idea that you were a virgin last night and would need protection,” he said silkily. “Not that I could have stopped at that point anyway, and today’s little romp in the hay also caught me off guard. I had every intention of protecting you from now on, but I think under the circumstances we’ll leave it up to fate. I hardly think you’d be so eager to leave me if you were carrying my child.”

She stared at him uncertainly. “You’re bluffing,” she said, biting her lip worriedly. “You wouldn’t want that to happen any more than I would. You’re a very possessive man, Rafe. You wouldn’t be able to stand it if I called your bluff and not only left but took your baby with me.”

His hand tightened on her elbow. “You’re quite right. I wouldn’t be able to tolerate it. You’d have to marry me. I won’t have any child of mine labeled a bastard.” He darted her a look as hard as a saber thrust. “Nor would I permit an abortion, Janna. You can see the dangers to your freedom would be far greater if that happened. Wouldn’t it be wiser to give in now and let me take care of you?”

“You’re completely unscrupulous, aren’t you, Rafe?” she asked wonderingly, gazing at him with wide, hurt eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that, damn it,” Rafe grated out violently. “Hell, yes, I can be ruthless, but I didn’t want to be that way with you. I wanted to be gentle.”

“Your good intentions didn’t last long, did they?” Janna asked dully.

“No, I guess they didn’t,” Rafe said wearily, his expression bleak. “Perhaps I should have started
with something less important to me. I’m not letting you go, Janna. Make up your mind to that. One way or another, you’re going to belong to me.”

She shook her head. “No, Rafe.”

He opened the brass-studded courtyard door and stood aside to let her pass. “Yes, Janna,” he said softly. “Definitely, yes.”

The digital clock on the bedside table cast out a blue lambent glow in the darkness, but Janna didn’t need to glance at it to know it was after three in the morning. She had been strenuously avoiding looking at it since she’d gone to bed five hours ago, but the flickering numerals seemed to be engraved on her lids whenever she closed her eyes. She turned restlessly in the king-sized bed, feeling lost and lonely in its huge expanse.

It had been three nights since that painful confrontation in the courtyard, and Rafe had not seen fit to share this monster of a bed or the facilities of the master suite with her in all that time. In fact, she’d scarcely seen him during the entire period. He’d left her directly after dinner that first evening and closeted himself in the library with Dawson. She didn’t know where Rafe was sleeping or even if he was, for he had seldom left the library during those three days. The glimpses she had of Pat Dawson’s face as he occasionally hastened from the library to his own office to get some file or other had revealed he was harried and exhausted. It was obvious that Rafe was driving them both to the point of collapse, and it made no sense at all.