Man from Half Moon Bay (3 page)

Penny laughed and shook her head as Sara again
turned to face her. “As your editor, I think I should suggest you get a better dictionary. There’s no way that gown could be called discreet.” Her smile faded. “I haven’t forgotten about Honolulu, by the way. I was yanked into a production meeting this afternoon or I would have pinned you down about—”

“How did you like the Donovan story?”

“The bit about his wife and family was good stuff.” Penny frowned. “Quit trying to sidle away from the issue. I’m not about to let you— What’s wrong? You look as if someone just hit you in the stomach.” Penny turned and followed Sara’s gaze across the room to the corner in which Mac was holding court. Her lips pursed in a soundless whistle. “And who could blame you? I feel a little weak-kneed myself. Lord, he’s gorgeous. Sort of a cross between Mel Gibson and Brenda Starr’s mystery man, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Sara said numbly.

Penny took a sip of her drink, her brown eyes narrowed on the tuxedo-clad man in conversation with Mac. “Do you suppose he’s a movie star? Who else would have nerve enough to wear a black patch over one eye? He looks like a buccaneer in one of those old Errol Flynn movies.”

Sara didn’t answer.

“I think I may just gird my loins and try to fight my way over there,” Penny murmured. “What a fantastic tush. I’ve always been a sucker for men with—” She broke off as soon as she turned back
and saw Sara’s expression, which betrayed not only surprise but panic. “You know him?”

Sara nodded, her gaze never leaving the man with the black eyepatch. “It’s Jordan.”

Penny uttered a soft curse beneath her breath as she gazed once more at the man across the room. Only yesterday she had been wondering how “sensible” Sara could have been swept off her feet by a hardliner like Jordan Bandor. Now her answer was here before her. He possessed more sexual magnetism than any man Penny had ever seen. He stood a little over six feet but appeared larger. He was all sleek bronze muscle and leashed power, and that tush … Penny forced her gaze up to Jordan Bandor’s face. The planes and bones were more arresting than conventionally good-looking, but his mouth was beautifully shaped and that damn eyepatch was sexy as the devil. Cripes, no wonder Sara had fallen like a ton of bricks. She didn’t know many women who wouldn’t have been drawn by Jordan’s sex appeal. She took a protective step closer to Sara. “Do you want to leave? I’ll make your excuses to Mac.”

“No.” Sara closed her eyes for the tenth of a second and then opened them and turned to smile at Penny. “I’m all right. It had to happen sometime. I just didn’t expect—”

“What the hell is he doing here?” Penny asked fiercely. “Why couldn’t he stay on his own side of the world?”

“Jordan doesn’t believe in limiting himself. Today the South Pacific, tomorrow … who knows?”

Sara took a quick swallow of champagne. “I imagine we’ll learn soon enough why he’s here. Jordan isn’t in the least Machiavellian. He just sets a goal and blows a path through hell and high water until he gets it.”

Penny could believe that as she continued to glare at the man across the room. Jordan gave the impression of total stillness, yet he was exuding a stream of power and energy as he bent his dark head to listen to something Mac was saying. She could feel herself bristling with instinctive defensiveness. “What do you say we get out of here and go to the Top of the Mark for a drink?”

Sara smiled affectionately. “You know Mac would hit the roof if you didn’t stay and socialize with all these bigwigs. Stop worrying about me, Penny. You told me yourself yesterday afternoon that I’d have to face him sometime.”

But that was before Penny had seen Jordan and gauged his mettle. “I’ve been known to have a very big mouth. Well, if you won’t leave, then let’s go beard the Aussie and show him how well you’re doing without him.”

Sara shook her head. “Thanks for the support, but I don’t need you to hold my hand. I’m twenty-seven years old, for heaven’s sake. Go do your duty and mingle.”

Penny hesitated. “You’re sure?”

“I’m fine.” Sara lifted her glass to her lips. “I was just surprised. Jordan is—” She inhaled sharply and forgot what she was saying as Jordan looked up and saw her. He didn’t change expression,
but she could feel the waves of emotion radiating from him across the room and her grasp unconsciously tightened on the fragile stem of her glass. She had forgotten the lightning blue of that glance and how much intensity he could project.

“Sara?”

Penny’s concerned voice freed her and Sara tore her gaze away and forced a bright smile. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “Beat it.”

Penny gazed at her skeptically and then shrugged. “I’ll check back with you later.” She turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Sara looked down at the clear sparkling liquid in her glass. He would be coming soon. He would be crossing the room, negotiating his way through the crowd that would part instinctively for him. Nothing would stop him or distract him. Soon he would be here beside her.

“Hello, Sara.”

Her gaze rose to fasten on his face. Oh, God, she didn’t want this. She drew a shaky breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” His lips tightened. “Not that that’s anything new. I’ve been waiting for you for the last eighteen months.” His gaze traveled over the delicate planes of her face, lingering on the softness of her mouth and then going to the silver blond of her hair curving beneath her chin in a shining Dutch boy bob. He frowned. “You’ve cut your hair. I liked it better long.”

“And I like it better short.” She took a small sip
of wine. “Cam didn’t know you were in San Francisco.”

“He does now. I contacted him this morning and he’s sharing my suite at the Fairmont.” Jordan took her glass and set it on the table beside them. “Let’s get out of here. I need to talk to you.”

Sara felt a swift surge of panic. “I don’t want to leave. I just got here. I haven’t even said hello to Mac.”

“For God’s sake, Sara, stop—” He broke off and she could see him struggling with his exasperation. “Very well, we’ll stay. Where can we find some privacy in this crowd?”

“We don’t need privacy. We have nothing to say to each other.”

“The hell we don’t.” His glance quickly raked the room and then he grabbed her arm and began propelling her through the crowd to the French doors leading to the terrace. “We need to have a conversation that’s long overdue.” He opened a door and gestured for her to precede him. “And one you cheated me out of when you ran away from Half Moon.”

“I didn’t run away. I left a note explaining why—” She heard the sudden harsh intake of his breath and glanced back over her shoulder at him. His gaze was fastened on the gleaming expanse of silken flesh revealed by the deep V of her gown.

“Dammit, why did you ever bother to put that rag on? You might as well have come here naked.”

She stiffened. “It’s in good taste. If you had your way, I’d always be bundled up to my eyebrows.
You wouldn’t even let me wear shorts outside the house!”

He scowled. “You looked too sexy.” He followed her out on the deserted terrace and closed the door. “And I thought it was a joint decision. We agreed—”

“Agreed?” She whirled to face him. “We never agreed on anything. You decided and then set about getting me to do exactly what you wanted.”

“And you enjoyed every minute of it.”

Her face felt suddenly hot. “You’re an expert lover, Jordan. You know how to push every one of my buttons. During those months with you I felt as if I were wandering around in some kind of erotic dream.” She met his gaze. “But there always comes a time to wake up to reality, and when I did, I realized what you’d done to me—”

“It
was
real.” Jordan’s voice was charged with soft violence. “We were real. You loved every single thing we did together.” He took a step closer. “You’re the most responsive woman I’ve ever met. Do you remember how many times a day we made love? How the tears would run down your cheeks and you’d dig your nails into my shoulders? Do you remember that, Sara?”

She took a step back and tried to close her mind against him. She would
not
remember those moments of sexual insanity. “I remember that you persuaded me to give up my career. I remember that you discouraged every friendship I tried to make. I remember that before I managed to
break free from you I was on the way to being sexually subjugated.”

A flicker of pain darkened his face. “You make me sound like something out of de Sade. I was never cruel to you, Sara, and I always tried to give you everything you could want.”

“Did you ever ask me what I wanted?” She smiled sadly. “And no, you were never physically cruel to me.”

His lips twisted. “I suppose the implication is that I raped you mentally?”

“That’s as good a word as any. You most certainly manipulated me. You’re very good at manipulating people. I believe sometimes you aren’t even aware that you’re doing it. Well, I’m through being manipulated by anyone.” She turned toward the French doors. “I gave Cam my answer last night. I’m not coming back to you, Jordan. Find another mindless woman to play your bed games with.”

“They weren’t games. Lord, I thought you knew that.”

Sara refused to look back at him as she crossed the terrace. She could feel his gaze on her naked back and a hot shiver ran through her. Her body had once been so sensually attuned to him that he had only to look at her for her breasts to swell and the hunger to begin to stir between her thighs. It was happening again now, she realized and acute anxiety welled up in her. Just another minute and she’d be back in the apartment and could lose herself in the crowd. Just another minute.

“I’m not letting you go.”

“You don’t have any choice.” She opened the door. “Good-bye, Jordan.”

Jordan’s hands slowly closed into fists at his sides. He could see the pale gleam of her hair through the sheer panels that curtained the French doors and then she was lost to view. He had made a complete botch of it, he thought with profound self-disgust. He had planned on being gentle and understanding, of telling her he realized what an idiot he had been. Instead, he had argued and defended himself and, as the piece de résistance, had actually stated his claim on her. After this fiasco he’d be lucky if she didn’t go to the police and get a restraining order to keep him from bothering her.

He should have known he would blow it. He had only to be in the same room with Sara to respond with instinctive possessiveness. He’d hoped their time apart would have tempered his reaction, and heaven knew he had been battling his nature for the last eighteen months.

It was clearly still too soon. His body wanted her too much and old habits were hard to break. He should have forced himself to wait until he was sure he could act with discipline and restraint. But circumstances had placed him in a position in which he could no longer wait. A cold chill had touched him when Cam had told him about the deserted warehouse where Sara now lived; there was no way he could let her go her own way while
she lived in such a dangerous place and that madman from New York still on the loose.

That memory suddenly brought another possibility to mind. Sara had been very upset when she had left him just seconds ago. He had learned to read every nuance of her responses and recognized that her control was barely skin deep. What if she had left the party to drive alone back to that damned warehouse on the docks? Hell, she might have left already.

He muttered a curse beneath his breath as he strode swiftly across the terrace and jerked open a French door, his gaze anxiously searching the crowd.

The dark blue Mercedes pulled into the warehouse directly behind Sara’s Honda, its tires screeching on the tarmac.

Sara’s heart jerked with fear. Then, as she saw Jordan step from behind the wheel, it jerked again with an entirely different apprehension. She had hoped it was over. She
wanted
it to be over, dammit.

She got out of her car and slammed the door shut. “This is private property, Jordan. That means you have to be invited on the premises.”

“It’s too private. I couldn’t believe it when Cam told me about the setup here. Don’t you have any sense? This is a perfect place for an attack. Talk about invitations.”

“This is a very well-patrolled neighborhood,” she said defensively. “And it’s none of your business anyway. Go away, Jordan.”

“When you’re safely in your apartment.”

“No, I don’t—” But he was already striding toward the elevator and she found herself hurrying after him. “I don’t need to have an escort to my front door. I’ve gotten along quite well without you for some time.”

“Sure you have.” He turned to face her, his expression grim under the illumination of the bulb over the elevator. “You position yourself so that you’re number one on a serial killer’s hit list and then move into a deserted warehouse on the waterfront. Why don’t you go back to New York and hand him a knife to cut your throat?”

She gazed at him in bewilderment. “How did you know about Kemp?”

Jordan didn’t answer.

“How, Jordan?”

“It was in all the newspapers,” he said evasively.

“I doubt if the Australian papers would have carried it. That’s not how you knew, is it?” She studied him intently. “Were you in Sausalito yesterday?”

The slightest flicker of expression crossed his face.

“You were following me,” she whispered. “How long?”

“I’ve been here for only three weeks.”

“Three weeks? Cam didn’t even know you’d left Half Moon.” She suddenly remembered Cam’s odd expression when she had questioned him about Jordan’s whereabouts. “Or maybe he did know. Was he lying to me?”

Jordan was silent a moment and then slowly shook his head. “You should know better than that. Cam doesn’t lie.” His smile was bittersweet. “He has all the scruples in the family, remember?”

“But there was something he wasn’t telling me?”

“Is this how you conduct your interviews for
World Report
?” He shrugged. “Cam probably suspected I was here. He knew I’d been here several times in the last year.”

“Several times …” She shook her head dazedly. “Why, for heaven’s sake?”