Lancelot's Lady (12 page)

"
It
'
s important to learn the signs for things around you,
"
Rhianna told Misty at lunch.
"
Later, you can teach these to your dad and Mrs. Atkinson.
"

It was nearing one o
'
clock when Misty yawned and signed,
"
I
'
m tired. I want a nap.
"

"
Of course,
"
Rhianna said.
"
I
'
ll wake you up at two.
"

Misty headed for the stairs. On the first step, she paused and looked over her shoulder.
"
Will you tuck me in?
"

"
Sure.
"

Ten minutes later, Rhianna skipped down the stairs, feeling very pleased with Misty
'
s progress. But her happiness diminished the second she saw Jonathan waiting in the dining room.

"
It
'
s not two yet,
"
she said.

"
I know. I can tell time.
"

"
Of course you can.
"

"
Is Misty having a nap?
"

"
I just put her down.
"
She smiled.
"
She did great at ASL today. She knows more than anyone realized and she catches on fast. I think she
'
ll be caught up in a week or two.
"

She was rambling, but his unwavering stare made her uneasy.

"
Why are you back so early?
"
she asked.

"
I forgot something.
"

"
Oh.
"

Jonathan moved toward her.
"
I was trying to think of something appropriate.
"

"
For what?
"
she asked, backing up against a wall.

His lips curved into an innocent smile.
"
It
'
s payback time.
"

"
Payback?
"
she squeaked.

In answer, he leaned forward and pulled the clamp from her hair.
"
Your hair looks better down.
"

Rhianna was stunned into silence. She cou
ldn
'
t have spoken even if she
'
d wanted to. She was too wrapped up in conflicting emotions―excitement and fear.

Jonathan mussed up her hair.
"
Now you look like you did the first time I saw you.
"

With her cheeks aflame and her nerve endings firing on all cir
cuits, even his breath against her hair made Rhianna quiver. She reached up to stop him from playing havoc with her hair. And her mind.

When their hands met, a sudden shock jolted through her body. Then their eyes locked. She saw turmoil in his.

Without warning, Jonathan grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. He eyed her, his mouth curved in a lazy smile.

"
Let…me…go,
"
she said between clenched teeth.

"
Not yet.
"

"
Let me go, Jonathan.
"

"
Not until I get what I want. Last night you called me an anima
l.
"
Lips brushed her ear.
"
You haven
'
t seen the animal in me until now.
"

She couldn
'
t breathe.

His burning gaze traveled the length of her body. His eyes heatedly took in her tousled appearance―her flushed face and trembling lips. He held her captive hands
above her head, causing her breasts to strain against the sheer fabric of her blouse.

Jonathan lowered her arms and moved closer. His hard chest rubbed against her blouse and the friction made her gasp.

What is he doing to me?

Jonathan leaned forward, exchanging his breath for hers. She should resist him, push him away or at least tell him to stop. But she couldn
'
t move.

"
Just remember, city-girl, it
'
s dangerous to tease a wild animal.
"

When his mouth made contact with hers, she pulled back.
"
Don
'
t.
"

He ignored her. His lips touched hers, moving more urgently, coaxing her submission. Heat raced through her blood and her pulse quickened as his tongue sought refuge, sweeping and drawing something primal from her.

Lust,
she told herself.

Her eyes drifted shut, her treacherous body responding against her will. An intense hunger for something more
―something she couldn
'
t name―overwhelmed her. Even though her head told her to fight, her heart told her to give in to this new pleasure.

Jonathan
'
s breaths were coming quick, his mouth growing more demanding. Her body was aflame with desires she
'
d never f
elt before. She couldn
'
t fight the feelings he drew from her.

So she closed her eyes and gave in.

His hot mouth skimmed her neck and moved lower.

"
Rhianna…
"

She shivered.
"
What?
"

"
I never thought revenge would taste so good,
"
he murmured.

She froze.
Of course! He warned me.

"
Stop it!
"
She ducked under his arm.
"
Just because this is your island doesn
'
t mean you can manhandle me.
"

"
I wouldn
'
t call that manhandling,
"
he said dryly.
             

Flustered, she crossed her arms over her chest.
"
This is your idea of revenge?
"

"
Don
'
t tell me you weren
'
t enjoying it.
"
He shrugged.
"
Anyway, it was only a kiss.
"

Rhianna gaped at him.
Only a kiss?

She couldn
'
t get to her bedroom fast enough. Once inside, she locked the door and leaned against it. She touched her lips, recalling his kiss.

He was right. She had liked it.

What the hell am I doing?

Rhianna hid in her bedroom. With her senses on high alert, she listened for footsteps or sounds that Misty was awake.

She tried to ignore the truth. Jonathan had kissed her and she
'
d liked it. It was so different from the kisses in her past, the dirty ones.

A wave of ugly memories assaulted her. Peter Waverley
'
s angry face, his hands touching where he shouldn
'
t, the pressure, the invasion…the blood. He had abused her in every way, and even after she
'
d left them, she was haunted by what he
'
d done to her, what he
'
d taken from her.

This unwanted initiation had caused her to spurn advances from handsome, young interns while she attended nursing college. And the few times she
'
d gone on dates, their groping hands and sloppy kisses had made her push them away.

Disgust. That
'
s all she
'
d felt back then.

She sighed.
What
'
s changed?

"
I wanted him to kiss me.
"

She still did.

This realization was beyond comprehension, as was the fact that her body yearned for much more than a kiss.

Downstairs, a door closed.

Rhianna strode to the window just in time to see Jonathan crossing the lawn, his hands tucked in the pockets of his shorts. As he approached the ridge of bushes, he paused and turned toward the house.

Mo
rtified, she froze. Could he see her?

Jonathan raised a hand.

"
Of all the―
"
She ducked from view and groaned.
"
Great, Rhianna. Now he
'
s going to think you
'
re interested.
"

She flopped on her stomach across the bed.

"
I am
not
interested in Jonathan Tyler.
"
I
'
m not!

The lie made her shiver.

Her eyes wandered to the photo on the nightstand. Higginson had taken the picture on one of JT
'
s good days, shortly after Rhianna
'
s birthday party. Full of life and healthy color, JT grinned in the photo. He had one arm thrown over Rhianna
'
s shoulder, while she beamed back at him.

Life was far less complicated back in Miami.

Rhianna picked up the photo.
"
You
'
re the only man who
'
s ever loved me, JT.
"

A surge of homesickness hit her. All of a sudden she wanted nothing more than to go home. Back to JT
'
s mansion. Back to her familiar life, the one that held no demands or expectations other than her nursing skills.

Where I know the rules.

She missed everything, even JT
'
s grouchy moods.

"
You must be worried sick,
"
she said to the photo.

That concern would only increase as each day passed without a phone call from Rhianna.

Her eyes watered.
"
No crying.
"

The old man
'
s kindness and fatherly love had done more for Rhianna than two years of counseling. There was no doubt in her mind that he only wanted the best for her.

What would he think of this situation?

She kissed the photo.
"
I miss you, JT.
"

Please be okay.

Chapter 12

When the phone rang, JT was tempted to ignore it. But he couldn
'
t. What if it was Rhianna?

It wasn
'
t.

"
Mr. Lance,
"
a man said cheerfully.

JT scrunched his face. He knew that voice. Didn
'
t he?

It took a long moment before things slipped into place.

"
What do you want, Chambers?
"

"
We have some business to discuss.
"

JT swirled the brandy in the glass and stared at the amber liquid.
"
We
'
ve already concluded our business. And you
'
ve been paid quite handsomely, may I add.
"

He
'
d paid Winston Chambers fifty thousand dollars.

"
Well, there
'
s the problem,
"
Chambers said.
"
We have differing opinions as to what constitutes a
handsome
payment.
"

JT heard the flick of a lighter.

"
I have no more work for you,
"
he said.

Chambers chuckled.
"
I don
'
t want more work. I just figure that since you went to all the trouble to find the girl that you
'
ll be open to…a bonus.
"

JT heard Chambers inhale deeply. The man was probably puffing on one of his obnoxious smelling cigars.

"
What kind of bonus are you thinking, Chambers?
"

"
Two hundred and fifty thousand should suffice.
"

"
How much?
"

"
You heard me.
"

"
This is blackmail!
"

"
I know what it is, Mr. Lance. You
'
re a rich man. What I
'
m asking for will barely make a dent in your bank account.
"

JT downed the brandy and slammed the empty glass on the table.
"
No!
"

There was silence on the other end.

"
Did you hear me?
"
JT yelled.
"
I won
'
t cave in to blackmail.
"

"
Then you
'
ll be very, very sorry.
"

"
What can you do?
"
He tried to laugh.

"
I can tell her.
"

JT
'
s breath stopped for a moment.
"
What do you mean?
"

"
You know what I mean. I
'
ll tell her everything. How you made me search for her all these years. How you followed her every move.
"

"
So tell her,
"
JT said with a shrug.
"
It
'
s not that big a deal.
"

Laughter sounded on the other end. JT wanted to slam down the phone.

"
She
'
ll want to know how you got her name,
"
Chambers said.

That
'
s where JT had him. He hadn
'
t given the private investigator all the details.
Just her name, thank God.

His head began to throb.

"
I came across her name when I was researching homecare,
"
he said, hoping he sounded convincing.

"
Liar.
"

JT rubbed his eyes. Everything was blurry.

"
Listen, you bastard,
"
he snapped.
"
I
'
m not paying you a cent more than I already have.
"

"
That
'
s where you
'
re wrong, Mr. Lance. In fact, the price just doubled.
"

"
What? Are you out of your mind?
"

"
Five hundred thousand dollars. In my account by midnight tomorrow.
"

JT
'
s heart pounded out an unsteady beat.
"
Or what?
"

"
Or I tell your precious Rhianna everything.
"

As Chambers revealed what he knew, JT massaged his aching head. The pain was excruciating. But if Rhianna ever found out about the secret he
'
d kept all these years, his pain would be far worse.

"
The money will be there,
"
he said, broken.
"
But you have to promise me you
'
ll take it and disappear.
"

"
You have my word,
"
Chambers said.

JT hung up the phone. He stared at it, afraid it would ring again and bring him more trouble. Finally, he tried to stand. His legs wobbled. Then an explosion of bright light assaulted him and everything went black.

Before he passed out, he had one last thought.

If Rhianna discovers the truth, she
'
ll never forgive me.

When JT awoke, he was back in bed. He surveyed the room through hazy eyes. Curtains drawn, water jug beside the bed, door closed leaving the room in shadows.

Something moved in the corner.

JT blinked twice and his vision cleared.

Aw, crap.

A worried Higginson sat in the chair, his arms folded tightly across his chest and his expression dark and moody.

"
You look like the grim reaper,
"
JT said dryly.

"
He
'
ll be by any minute if you keep this up.
"

"
Then he
'
d better bring reinforcements. I
'
m not ready to go yet.
"

"
You
'
ve got one foot in the grave. And it
'
s sinking.
"

JT scowled.
"
Stop treating me like I
'
m dying.
"

"
You
are
dying,
"
Higginson said sharply.
"
When are you going to get that? You need to conserve your energy.
"

JT closed his eyes, wishing he could drown out his friend
'
s voice. He kne
w he was dying, but that didn
'
t mean he had to lie back, play the feeble invalid and wait for it to happen.

"
You
'
re pushing yourself too hard.
"

JT flashed Higginson a smile.
"
I have things to do, places to visit, people to―
"

"
Piss off?
"

"
People to see, and―
"

"
Floors to pass out on,
"
Higginson finished for him.

JT sighed.
"
That wasn
'
t my plan.
"
He struggled to sit up, then gazed out the window.
"
I miss her, Higgie.
"

"
I know, my friend.
"

"
The house just isn
'
t the same without her.
"

Higginson pulled the chair
closer.
"
JT, you remember why you
'
re doing this. To make amends. To fix what
'
s broken.
"

"
To find some peace,
"
JT whispered.

"
You have to take better care of yourself. If not for yourself or me, then do it for Rhianna. When she comes home―
"

"
She
is
coming h
ome,
"
JT interrupted.
"
Isn
'
t she?
"

Higginson nodded.
"
I
'
m sure she
'
ll be back. You
'
re like a father to her.
"

"
I
'
m old enough to be her grandfather and you know it.
"

"
You
'
re all she
'
s got,
"
Higginson said, standing.
"
So you
'
d better be here when she returns.
"

JT gazed into his old friend
'
s eyes.
"
She
'
s going to be pissed.
"

"
I expect so, sir.
"

"
She won
'
t like that I tricked her.
"

"
You
'
re probably right, sir.
"

"
Did I do the right thing?
"

Higginson rested a hand on JT
'
s shoulder.
"
My friend, I have known you for many years, and in all this time I
'
ve come to recognize that you always do the right thing. In the end.
"

"
Fine.
"
JT pushed the covers aside.
"
Now help me out of this blasted bed. We
'
ve got to plan Rhianna
'
s welcome home party.
"

"
Your wish is my command, sir.
"

Higginson held out a hand, but JT slapped it away.

"
Knock it off with the
sir
crap, Higgie.
"

"
Yes…sir.
"

~ * ~

Sitting in the shadows of his compact office lit only by the golden glow of a table lamp, Winston Chambers tamped out the cigar and stared at the dead butt in the ashtray.
Cohiba Behike.
One of the most expensive cigars ever made. He
'
d paid twenty-five thousand for the cigars. Only one hundred desktop humidors had been manufactured, each with forty handmade, numbered cigars. The ring of paper
around the top also boasted his name―
Winston Archibald Chambers.

He licked his lips, savoring the rustic blend of coffee and cedar flavors on his tongue.
Like an orgasm, the cigar had been good while it lasted.

He glanced at the manila folder on his desk.
He
'
d scribbled his client
'
s name across the tab.

JT Lance
'
s guilt had more than paid for the Cohiba Behike cigars. Now what? A new car? A casino weekend in Vegas?

Scratching his chin, the fleeting thought that he should have shaved crossed his mind. Then again, it worked for Winston. Being a private investigator meant he had to blend in, not get made. It meant he could go places where law enforcement types couldn
'
t. It meant he got results, whether with a bribe, a threat or his fists.

Which reminds me, I ha
ven
'
t been to see Miss Shirl
'
s girls for a while.

Miss Shirl was the owner of Bare Essentials, a downtown Miami gentlemen
'
s club. At least that
'
s how Winston preferred to think of it. The girls there had been brought in from exotic countries―Jamaica, Mexic
o, Japan, China, Malaysia. Even Canada.