AFTER LEAVING LUCAS, Jay simply drove, automatically following the highway signs picked out by the headlight beams, and eventually wound up on U.S. 24, the highway that they had taken to Colorado Springs. She turned in the opposite direction. She didn’t pay any attention to the time; she just kept driving. U.S. 24 took her through Leadville, and finally she connected with I-70. She took a right, toward Denver.
The sun came up, shining right into her eyes. She was nearly out of gas. She got off at the next exit and had the tank filled.
It would be over by now.
Exhaustion pulled at her, but she couldn’t stop. If she ever stopped, she would have to think, and right now she couldn’t bear it. She checked her money. She didn’t have much—a little over sixty dollars—but she had her credit cards. That would get her back to New York, to the only home she had left, the only refuge.
I-70 went straight to Stapleton International Airport in Denver. Jay parked the Jeep and entered the terminal, carefully noting where she had parked so she could tell Frank where to retrieve his vehicle. She bought her ticket first, and was lucky enough to get on a flight leaving within the hour. Then she found a pay phone and called Frank.
He answered in the middle of the first ring. “Frank, it’s Jay.” She identified herself in a numb monotone. “Is it over?”
“Where the hell are you?” he screamed.
“Denver.”
“Denver! What are you doing there? You were supposed to call me hours ago! Luke is tearing the damned place up, and we have every cop in Colorado prowling the highways looking for you.”
Her heart lightened, the terrible dread lifting from it. “He’s all right? He isn’t hurt?”
“He’s fine. He took a little nick on the arm, but nothing a Band-Aid won’t cover. Look, exactly where are you? I’ll have you picked up—”
“Is it over?” she asked insistently. “Is it really over?”
“Piggot? Yeah, it’s over. Luke got him. Tell me where you are and—”
“I’m glad.” Her legs wouldn’t support her much longer; she sagged against the wall. “Take…take care of him.”
“My God, don’t hang up!” Frank yelled, the words shrieking in her ear. “Where are you?”
“Don’t worry,” she managed to say. “I can get home by myself.” Totally forgetting the Jeep, she hung up the phone, then went into the ladies’ rest room and splashed cold water on her face. As she pulled a brush through her hair she noticed the pallor of her cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes. “You guys sure know how to show a lady a good time,” she murmured to her reflection, drawing several startled glances her way.
Yogi Berra had said, “It ain’t over till it’s over,” but this was very definitely over. Jay couldn’t sleep on the flight, despite the utter exhaustion weighing down her body. Nor could she eat, though her stomach was empty. She managed to drink a cola, but nothing more.
After the solitude of the meadow, New York’s J.F.K. airport was bedlam. She wanted to shrink against a wall and scream at all the scurrying people to go away. Instead she got on a bus, and an hour and a half later she let herself into her apartment.
She hadn’t seen it in months; it was no longer home. It had been well taken care of in her absence, as Frank had promised, but it was as empty as she was. She didn’t even have any clothes with her. She laughed hollowly; clothes were the least of her worries. Frank would make certain they were shipped to her.
But there were sheets to go on the bed, and towels for the bathroom. She took a warm shower, then even summoned the strength to make up the bed. The afternoon sun was going down as she stretched out naked between the clean sheets. Automatically she turned, searching for Lucas’s warmth, but he wasn’t there. It was over, and he didn’t want her. Acid tears stung her eyes as her heavy eyelids closed, and then she slept.
“JANET JEAN. Janet Jean, wake up.”
The intruding voice pulled her toward consciousness. She didn’t want to wake up. So long as she slept, she didn’t have to face life without Lucas. But it sounded like his voice, and she frowned.
“Janet Jean. Jay. Wake up, baby.” A hard, warm hand shook her bare shoulder.
Slowly she opened her eyes. It was Lucas, sitting on the edge of her bed, scowling at her. Those yellow eyes looked almost murderous, though his tone had been as gentle as his ruined voice would allow. He looked like hell; he badly needed a shave, his hair was uncombed, and a bloodstained bandage was wrapped around his left forearm. But at least he had on a shirt now, and his clothes were clean.
“I know I locked the door.” Sleep still muddled her mind, but she knew she’d locked the door. In New York, one wasn’t careless about locking the door.
He shrugged. “Big deal. Come on, sweetheart, go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face so you can focus your eyes. I’ll make coffee.”
What was he doing here? She couldn’t think of any reason, and though part of her rejoiced at seeing him, no matter why, another part of her cringed at having to say goodbye to him again. She might not be able to stand it this time. At least before, she had been numb.
“What time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
“It can’t be. It’s still daylight.”
“Nine in the morning,” he explained patiently. “Come on, get up.” He lifted her to a sitting position, and the covers fell to her waist, exposing her bare body. Quickly Jay grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her breasts; she couldn’t meet his eyes as a flush chased the pallor from her face.
His face was expressionless as he got to his feet and unbuttoned his shirt. “Here, put this on. I packed your clothes and brought them with me, but they’re all tumbled together in the suitcases.”
She took his shirt, still warm from his body, and pulled it around her. Without another word she got up and went into the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind her. She started to lock it, but decided not to waste her time. Locks weren’t much good against him.
Five minutes later she felt much more alert, having followed his advice and splashed cold water on her face. She was very thirsty, after having gone so long without anything to drink, so she drank several cups of water. She would have felt more secure if she’d had on something more than just his shirt, but it almost swallowed her. His scent was on the fabric. She lifted it to her face and inhaled deeply, then let it drop and left the security of the bathroom.
He was lying on the bed. She stopped in her tracks. “I thought you were going to make coffee.”
“You don’t have any.” He got to his feet, put his hands on her shoulders and shook her. “Damn you,” he said in a shaking voice. “I went through hell when I found out you hadn’t called Frank. Why did you run? Why did you come back here?”
Her hair had fallen over her face. “I didn’t have anyplace else to go,” she said, and her voice cracked.
He yanked her into his arms, reaching up behind her back to lock his fist in her hair and hold her head back. “Did you really think I’d let you get away from me that easily?” he all but snarled.
“Was what I did so bad?” she pleaded. “I didn’t know any other way to protect you! When I saw your eyes, I knew you had to be the agent Frank had told me had been killed, and I knew he’d gone to an awful lot of trouble to hide you, so you had to be in danger. You had amnesia. You didn’t even know who was after you! Keeping the lie going was the only way I had of keeping you safe!”
The yellowish eyes glittered. “Why should you care?”
“Because I was in love with you! Or did you think that was a lie, too?”
His touch gentled. “No,” he said quietly. “I think I’ve always known you loved me, right from the start.”
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “The first time I touched you,” she whispered, “I felt how warm you were, and how hard you were fighting to stay alive. I started loving you then.”
“Then why did you run?”
He was relentless, but then, she
had always known that. “Because it was over. You didn’t want me. I’d been terrified of what you would do when you found out. I was afraid you’d send me away, and you did. So I left.”
“I only wanted you away from the danger, damn it! I didn’t intend for you to go two thousand miles!” He picked her up and dropped her on the bed, then followed her down. “No excuses this time. We’re going to get married as soon as we can legally do it.”
She was as stunned as she had been the first time he’d mentioned marriage. “W-what?” she stammered.
“You told me to ask you again when I’d regained my memory. Well, I have. We’re getting married.”
All she could say was, “That’s not asking, that’s telling.”
“It’ll do.” He began unbuttoning his shirt, uncovering her breasts.
“Is it because you think you owe me—”
His head jerked up, those eyes fierce and wild. “I love you so much I’m out of my head with it.”
She was stunned again. “You never said. I thought—but then you made me leave…”
“I didn’t think I could have made it any plainer how I felt,” he growled.
Very simply she said, “Do you need the words?”
That stopped him. “I need the words very much.”
“So do I.”
He bent his head and kissed her, his hand stroking her bare body beneath the shirt. His muscled legs moved against hers, and she felt his hardness against her thigh. “I love you, Jay Granger.”
The sun was exploding inside her, lighting her eyes. “I love you, Lucas Stone.”
At last she could speak his name with love.
EPILOGUE
“IS PIGGOT REALLY DEAD?”
“He’s really dead.” Lucas watched her face carefully across the breakfast table. He had gone out and bought the necessary groceries, and they had both eaten as if they were starved, which they had been. He hadn’t been interested in food before, either. Finding Jay and getting her back where she belonged had been far more important. “I finished the job.” The truth wasn’t pretty, but she had a right to know that about the man she was going to marry.
She sipped at the hot coffee, then lifted those incredible dark blue eyes to his. “I’m glad he’s dead,” she said fiercely. “He tried to kill you.”
“And came damn close to succeeding.”
She shuddered, thinking of the days when his life had hung in the balance, and he reached for her hand. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s over. That part is really over. This part—” he squeezed her hand “—is just getting started—if you’re sure you can stand looking at this face over the breakfast table.”
The smile broke over her face like sunshine. “Well, you’re not good-looking, but you sure are sexy.”
With a growl he grabbed for her, dragging her around the table and onto his lap. Her arms went around him even as he tilted her face up for his kiss. “By the way, I’m not an agent.”
She jerked back, startled. “What?”
“Not any longer. I’m officially retired, as of yesterday. Sabin took me out of it. Once my cover was blown, there was no way I could go back without endangering my family. I’ve really been out of it since the explosion, but Sabin didn’t make it official until Piggot was caught.”
“Then I guess we’ll both have to hunt for a job.” He was retired! She felt like chanting hosannas. She wouldn’t have to worry every time he walked out the door that she’d never see him again.
He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I already have a job, baby. I’m a businessman, in partnership with my brother in an engineering firm. I traveled all over the world. It was a good cover for the work I was doing for Sabin. Speaking of my brother, by now Sabin will have gotten the news to them that a mistake was made in identifying the victims of the explosion and I’m still alive. This is going to be a bad shock to them, especially my parents.”
“You mean a good shock.”
“It’ll be a shock, of whatever nature. Given the changes in my face and voice, they may have trouble adjusting.”
“And you’re bringing a strange woman into the family,” she said, concern darkening her eyes.
“Oh, that. Don’t worry about that. Mom has been after me for years to settle down. It wasn’t an option I had before, but that’s changed.” He gave her a raffish grin. “I’d already decided to retire, anyway, so I could spend my time keeping you satisfied.”
He certainly did that. Jay put her head on his shoulder, absorbing his warmth and nearness. His arms tightened. “I love you,” he said steadily.
“I love you, Lucas Stone.” She would never tire of saying it, and he would never tire of hearing it.
He stood up with her in his arms. “Let’s go make a phone call. I want to talk to my folks and let them know they’re getting a daughter-in-law.”
They did make the phone call, but not right away. First he kissed her, and when he lifted his head the expression in his eyes had intensified. He carried her into the bedroom, and then the mirror on the wall reflected the true image of two people entwined as they loved each other.
Keep reading for a sneak peek
from Linda Howard’s next thrilling romance,
TROUBLEMAKER
Coming Summer 2016 from William Morrow
CHAPTER 1
WASHINGTON, D.C., AREA
IT WAS ONE of those bright, early-March days that made you think spring had to be here, even though you knew the winter bitch wasn’t yet ready to loosen her grip and move completely out of town. Morgan Yancy sometimes lost track of what season it was anyway. He’d have to stop and think: was he in the Northern Hemisphere, or the Southern? His job demanded that he travel to hellholes at a moment’s notice, so he could find himself going from the Arctic to the Iraqi desert, from there to South America—wherever it was in the world that his talents were needed.
Thirty-six hours ago he’d arrived at the small condo that passed for home these days, slept the first twenty-four hours and awakened to the discovery that his days and nights were mixed up. Wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last. So he stayed up a while, ate some peanut butter smeared on stale crackers, worked on his gear, ran seven miles in the dark city to tire himself out, then conked out again.
When he woke, it was spring—or as good as.
He took a cool shower to blow the rest of the cobwebs out of his head, then rummaged in the refrigerator and found that his last bag of ground coffee had enough in it to make half a pot. Good enough. He opened the carton of milk, sniffed, winced, and poured it down the drain. There was some fuzzy green cheese in the fridge too, so he tossed it. No doubt about it: he had to do some grocery shopping while he was home this time. He could do without cheese and milk, but things got dicey if he didn’t have coffee. Funny how he could go days, weeks, without it, drinking whatever was handy, but when he was home he damn well wanted his coffee.
The bright sunlight lured him out onto his postage-stamp patio. Coffee cup in hand, he stepped out and assessed the situation.
The weather was perfect: just cool enough not to classify as warm, but warm enough that he was comfortable without a jacket. There was a light breeze, and a few cotton-ball clouds floated by.
Well, fuck; life was tough sometimes. He didn’t have a choice about it: he had to go fishing. He’d lose his man-license if he let a day made specially for fishing slip by without taking his boat out.
Besides, the old Shark needed to have the cobwebs blown out of the motor every now and then. He did upkeep on it whenever he was home, but it hadn’t had a good run in about five months—which, come to think of it, might have been how long it had been since he’d had more than a day at home. The team sure as hell had been on a grueling stretch.
He fished his cell phone from the cargo pocket on his right thigh, and called Kodak, a buddy from his GO-Team. Kodak’s real name was Tyler Gordon, but when you have eidetic memory, what the hell else could people call you besides Kodak?
Koda
k sounded a little groggy and froggy when he answered, not surprising considering he’d been on the last job with Morgan. “Yeah, wassup?” The combination of hoarseness and borderline consciousness made the words barely intelligible.
“Fishing. I’m taking the Shark out. Wanna go?”
“Fuck, don’t you ever sleep?”
“I’ve been sleeping. I’ve slept for most of two days. What the hell have you been doing?”
“Sometimes not sleeping. I’m sleeping now. Or I was.” There was the sound of a huge yawn. “Have fun, buddy, but I won’t be there having it with you. How long you going to stay out?”
“Until about dark, probably.” He should’ve expected this; Kodak was a horn dog, pure and simple. He’d have thought about getting his rocks off even before putting some decent food in his belly. Not that Morgan hadn’t thought about getting his own rocks off, but that had come after food, and he hadn’t gotten any further than the thought.
There was another yawn. “I’ll give it a pass this time. Catch you later.” The air went dead as Kodak disconnected.
Morgan shrugged and slipped the phone back into his pocket. So he’d be fishing alone today. He didn’t mind. Most times, he preferred it. The sun, the wind, the water, the blessed solitude—it was great, especially when he was unwinding from a job.
Within five minutes he’d downed enough coffee to get him by, pulled on a shirt and some socks and boots, and was in his truck heading for the marina. Breakfast came from a fast-food drive-through, but hell, it wasn’t as if he didn’t eat crap most days of his life anyway. Besides, in his opinion America had some great-tasting crap. If the fat police really wanted to complain about food, they should go to some of the shit-holes he’d visited; after that, then maybe they’d have a deeper appreciation for tasty crap.
The marina where he kept the Shark was on the old, run-down side and a fairly long stretch down the river, but he liked it because it was small, and he could keep better track of any new boats or any suspicious vehicles in the parking area. If he were able to get the boat out on anything resembling a regular schedule, he’d be able to keep better vigilance, but so far he’d never had any trouble—no reason he should, just that habit was habit—and he had a talent for spotting vehicles that were out of the ordinary for their surroundings. Nothing stood out today, though he did take the precaution of driving up and down all the aisles before stopping. There were no vehicles parked facing out and no rentals or anything else suspicious.