Chapter Ten

The next day, while watching her father struggle to regain his health, Kristen decided she needed to confront Jeff that evening, sever their relationship and return his engagement ring. She wanted no further contact with a man who had lied and cheated and contributed to her father’s attack.

Yes, it was past time she talked to Jeff and closed that portion of her life. She needed to move forward. At this point, though, she didn’t know what the future held. She still had a promising position at Eagle Builders and a tentative relationship with Morgan. The latter haunted her. She had come to realize, she’d never loved Jeff, only wanted the marriage and children that went with it, while Morgan…

No. She didn’t want to think of Morgan just yet. Her feelings were far too confusing to analyze.

It was well past dinnertime when she drove up to Jeff’s house. She saw the soft glow of a light filtering through the closed drapes and didn’t know whether or not to be relieved. She rang the bell. After a moment without an answer, she tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. She walked in, frowning. Jeff didn’t usually leave his door open.

“Jeff? Are you there?”

She strode into the living room and found it empty. Thinking he might be in the shower, she walked down the hall and stepped into his bedroom with some trepidation, having never ventured there. Sex had been something they’d decided to hold off until marriage. Fool that she was, she’d thought it was because they’d wanted their wedding night to have special meaning. She never suspected he was already being satisfied.

“Jeff?”

Stepping farther into the room, she eyed the king-size bed with distaste. The trashiness of the comforter and sheets patterned in leopard skin was something she hadn’t expected from Jeff. But then again, she’d painfully learned how little she knew what went on inside Jeff’s head.

At the foot of the bed, she paused and glanced around. Something on the chaise caught her eye. She walked over and picked up a garment draped over the back. A black lace bra dangled between her fingers, confirming everything. Jeff had never pursued a sexual relationship with her because he’d been too busy with every other woman in town. She dropped the undergarment on the seat in disgust and rubbed her palm against her pants.

How could she have been so blind? So stupid? Why hadn’t she listened to Morgan from the very beginning? Goodness knew he’d tried to warn her.

Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. And to think she might have slept in the same bed, had children from this man if she hadn’t met Morgan. Jeff had fooled her so thoroughly. One day she would have to thank Morgan. Because of him, she’d escaped what would have been a hellish marriage.

She turned away and caught sight of an opened letter on the dresser next to the chair. The name ‘Caroline Stone’ leaped from the pages. Sensing the importance of it, Kristen picked it up with trembling fingers and scanned the top page. It was some type of report from an investigator.

‘Maxine Brodine has been readmitted into the hospital. Since all treatments have failed, it is only a matter of time before she dies of bone cancer—’ Kristen frowned and quickly turned to the next page. It went on to mention an inheritance bequeathed to Caroline and the estimated worth of Maxine’s estate.

“My goodness,” Kristen whispered. “So that’s it.”

This was what Morgan had been wondering about. Jeff didn’t want a daughter—he wanted money. Money, she suspected, to keep his business afloat.

“Kristen?”

Her breath caught in her throat. Ever so casually, she slipped the letter in the pocket of her sundress. Thankful for the skirt’s large folds and deep, concealing pockets, she turned around and found Jeff in the doorway. The smile on his lips and his dimpled cheek gave him that rakish, handsome look that Kristen knew he used to his advantage.

This time, though, Kristen saw through his smile for what it was—a self-satisfied, gloating turn of the lips, devoid of feeling or interest in another person other than himself.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were getting cold feet about our relationship, but it looks like you’ve come to your senses.”

She put her hand in her pocket and felt the letter between her fingers. “My senses? Yes, I guess you could say I’ve come to my senses.”

“What are you talking about?”

When he moved toward her, she raised her other hand. “Don’t even bother.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“A lot since I saw you with that woman on Wednesday.” She waved her hand in the direction of the piece of lace on the chair. “And you’re so blatant about it! I would think after those photos you’d be a little more discreet, but then again, you were probably thinking what a naïve fool I was. But not any more.”

“What woman?” He folded his arms and looked back in confusion. “Oh. You must mean my cousin. Didn’t I tell you—”

“Spare me. I came over to give you back your ring, and tell you to stay away from my father.”

She almost laughed at the shock on his face. “I don’t understand—you want to break it off? And your father? He’s still got a job when he completely recovers. If you’re upset that I never called. Well, there’s a reason—” He seemed to get a hold of himself. “I need a drink. We can talk in the living room.”

Jaw hardening, she strode into the other room and watched him walk over to the small bar that divided the kitchen from the living area. She didn’t miss the slight tremble in his hand as he poured a large measure of scotch into his glass. Good, she thought. She had him nervous.

He tossed the liquid down and banged his empty glass on the counter, then turned to face her. “So what’s this all about?”

“I want to know why you’ve been forcing my dad to play with the numbers. You had no business involving him.”

“I don’t know what the hell George’s been saying.” He laughed, but Kristen swore his voice held a note of agitation. “He must be raving with all those drugs they’re giving him.”

“He told me everything,” Kristen insisted.

Jeff flushed and poured more scotch into his glass, his hand shaking so badly the liquid sloshed on the counter. “He’d better shut his mouth. He’s in just as deep as I am. If I hang, he’ll be hanging right there along with me.”

She bit her lip. He meant it. “He’s in no condition to fight you, Jeff. And he’s not about to come back to work for a man like you.” She took Jeff’s engagement ring from her other pocket. “I’m putting your ring on the coffee table. I don’t want anything to do with you. I thank my stars that I found out what type of person you are before I made the stupid mistake of marrying you.”

He gulped down the scotch, rounded the bar and waved his glass at her. “You can wipe off that superior look from your face! You’re nothing special. Hear me? Do you think I planned getting shackled with the likes of you? Hell no.” His eyes glittered with malice. “It’s been hell trying to act like I love you and this mythical family you’ve wanted. You leave me cold. You’re like kissing a dead mackerel.”

She flinched as if hit. His words were worse and by far more powerful than any slap or punch to the stomach.

He must have thought her expression funny, for he laughed. “Pretty damn effective way to shut up George, now wasn’t it? Keep the man quiet by marrying the daughter. By the time we got to setting a date, I was going to make sure everything pointed to your father.” His gray eyes looked like shards of steel. How had she ever thought them sexy? “The added bonus of everything was that you were so damn malleable. Having you spy on Morgan was a bonus.”

“But I didn’t spy on him, now did I?”

“Yes, well…”

She couldn’t believe this was happening. “So everything was a joke to you?”

“Of course.” A snide smile curved his lips.

She stumbled back a step. She would not degrade herself by showing how upset she was. She wouldn’t allow him that pleasure.

“You know, Jeff. You might be handsome, but inside you’re an ugly little troll of a man. Your looks won’t last forever, and when your lies catch up to you, you’ll be left with nothing.” She pivoted and stalked from the room. “You probably wouldn’t have been any good in bed either!”

“You still kiss like a fish!” he called to her back.

“Better than a troll!” she snapped, slamming the front door and shutting out his laughter.

She raced to the car and slipped inside. Tears trembled past her lashes, scorching her cheeks. They kept coming, no matter how many times she wiped at her face. She could still hear Jeff’s full-blown laugh. She couldn’t stop the noise as it rebounded against her ears and through the interior of the car.

Unable just yet to go home to her apartment’s silence and empty rooms, Kristen drove through the streets of Phoenix. Confiding to her mother was out of the question. Sharon had enough worries with her husband still in the hospital.

The honk of a horn woke her from her stupor, and she realized that she had to get off the road or end up in an accident. Blinking away tears, she looked around and recognized the bridle trail along Central Avenue. On either side of her Arizona Ash loomed, seeming even darker than the moonless evening. Unconsciously, she must have steered the Focus a few miles from Morgan’s neighborhood.

An image of his face came to mind. She loved Morgan’s strong jaw, mobile mouth and how his blond hair sharply contrasted against his brown eyes and thick brows. He was so unlike Jeff physically and emotionally. Even though Morgan could be single minded to a fault, she had come to appreciate his sense of humor, his warmth and protectiveness. She couldn’t help but respect him for his close relationship with his daughter. She’d come to care for him.

Could it be love? Maybe. Her feelings were deeper, more binding than anything she’d felt for Jeff or her first painful teenage crush. She’d let Jeff’s image and the desire to marry ruin her judgment. Jeff had seemed so unapproachable for years that she’d mistakenly set him on a pedestal. Kristen shook her head in self-disgust. What a mistake that had been! Maybe now she wouldn’t take everything people said at face value.

Once she pulled her car into Morgan’s driveway, she rummaged in her purse for a tissue. She blew her nose and took a stumbling breath, unable to calm down. Her heart fluttered wildly. The light from Morgan’s front porch beckoned.

She stepped outside, closed the door and rested against the side of the vehicle in sudden indecision. Large olive trees surrounding the property whispered and sighed around her. Although the night air was hot and dry, she hugged herself from the sudden chill that raced across her flesh.

Jeff’s words lashed through her mind, and her confidence faltered. By knocking on Morgan’s door, she might not only be walking into his house but walking into another disastrous relationship. She straightened. Morgan’s warmth, his tenderness and his passion—she wanted them enough to take that chance.

She moved toward the front door.

***

“I looked in the mirror in horror. Hair sprouted from my ears, cheeks and chin. I suddenly had fangs growing instead of teeth. Boy, this time I’d done it. My parents weren’t going to like it a bit. I was a werewolf and I hadn’t a clue as to how to change back to a human…”

Realizing the room had gone silent for too long, Morgan looked up. Seated on the edge of the bed, he glanced over at his daughter and found her asleep. Even a story of a werewolf with fangs couldn’t keep her awake tonight. She lay cuddled on her side with her old and very abused, stuffed bear in her arms. Her silken blonde strands swept over her pillow in a warm, rippling cascade.

He rubbed a lock between his fingers. His little girl. What he wouldn’t do for her. No matter what the future held, the good and the bad, he would always be there for her.

He closed the book and carefully eased off the bed. After gently kissing her brow, he switched off the light and left her room. In the hall, he heard the doorbell chime. With book still in hand, he opened the front door.

For a moment he couldn’t call up his voice. Kristen. She stood on the porch. The outside light touched her reddened face and revealed big, blue pain filled eyes circled by lashes spiked with tears.

Fear hit him in the chest. “What’s happened? What’s wrong? Is it your dad?” Disgusted with his thoughtlessness, he quickly stepped aside. “Here. Come in.”

He cupped her elbow and urged her inside. The hall light, much brighter than the one outside shone down on her face. She’d been crying for awhile.

“I…Jeff—”

He stiffened in rage. “If that bastard laid a hand on you I swear I’ll—”

“He didn’t touch me,” she cut in with a voice that sounded beaten and crushed. “It’s just that he said some things that hurt…”

He closed the door, dropped the book to the floor and gathered her into his arms. The look in her eyes tormented him. She was too damn nice for Jeff to play games with her. The bastard. He wanted to hit Jeff until he heard something crack. He wanted blood. He wanted Jeff on the floor, broken. Stiffening, he held her closer. This need for violence scared the hell out of him.

He channeled his emotions. Kristen didn’t need his anger or outrage. She needed someone to listen, to ease the pain.

He swept her up in his arms and carried her into the living room. Sinking into the sofa, he cradled her against his chest. Her breath touched his throat in shaky, uneven breaths while the downy feathers across her hairline teased his cheek. For Kristen to come to him for support, to trust him that much, stunned him. He just hoped he didn’t screw things up.

He’d come to care for her. She was so unlike Marla, he realized as he gently stroked Kristen’s back. His wife had never possessed Kristen’s openness, ready smile, or vulnerability. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember a time when Marla had been content with her lot. He’d loved Marla, but it couldn’t compare to what he felt for Kristen. No woman—not even Marla—had sent him so close to the edge like Kristen. With Kristen—

His fingers stilled on her back. Love. No. He wouldn’t allow himself to fall in love again. Not now. Yes, he cared for Kristen, but he didn’t love her. The pain of losing Marla to another man and then her subsequent death cut too deeply for him to take that risk again.

When Kristen’s breathing lost its tremor, he lowered his hands to her waist and asked against her brow, “Do want to talk about it? I’ll understand if you don’t.”

“Why not?” Bitterness spilled into her voice. “By now, it’s probably common knowledge he’s been using me to control my father. He can’t even stand touching me. He thinks kissing me is like kissing a dead mackerel, of all things.”

His grip tightening on her waist, Morgan smothered an oath. “He’s crazy! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He grazed his mouth over the petal softness of her own. To have Jeff causing her to have doubts about her femininity and attractiveness to the male sex was criminal. “Kissing you reminds me of moonlight, satin and sheets, and of being drowned in sensations.”

“You know, I can take it. You don’t have to lie. You’re being nice—”

He took her lips, his mouth hard and hungry. This time he put his all into it—desire, need, all his passion and heart—hoping like hell it came through. When he finally drew away, he had to struggle to catch his breath. Seeing the hunger smoldering in her blue eyes, he felt inordinately pleased at having put that expression there. Because of him, she looked completely and thoroughly kissed.

He arched a brow, amusement lacing his words. “Now, did that come across as being ‘nice’?” When she didn’t immediately answer, he placed her palm against his chest where his shirt opened and felt her fingers tremble against his skin. “See how my heart’s racing. Does that feel like I’m being nice?”

“No.” The huskiness of her voice washed over him.

“Jeff doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You’re beautiful. I love your big blue eyes, your freckles, the way your hair curls around your face.”He caressed the elegant sweep of her neck with a thumb. “And the feel of your skin. I want you. I have from the moment I saw you.”

As her fingers played with the hairs on his chest, she gave him a wicked look. “Keep going. If you’re trying to talk me into bed, you’re doing a darn good job.”

“Maybe I’ve been talking too much.”

“I think so—”

Cupping her jaw with both hands, he kissed her again and again. She met his lips with equal fervor and slid her hands beneath his shirt to explore the fine muscles in his back. When she edged her fingers around his waist to graze his belly, he groaned convulsively. If he didn’t stop soon, he was going to lose it.

But…maybe one more minute wouldn’t kill him. Her touch felt too damn good. And her mouth.

Torture, pure torture. The sexual pain of having her snuggled so intimately against his lap, her dress hiked up and the curve of her bottom pressed into his groin, beat at him.

He dragged his mouth from her lips. Ragged breaths shook him. “I’ve got to stop before I go completely crazy. The last thing I want is Katie walking in and seeing me attacking you.”

Knowing that Morgan was right, Kristen tried to smile. She gave up. Her mind was a muddle. Every centimeter along her body burned with desire. She loved how utterly masculine he felt against her body, all hard angles and muscle. Sinking back, she rested her head against his shoulder until her pulse returned to normal.

“What am I going to do with you?” Morgan asked.

Glancing up, she almost laughed. He looked completely baffled. “I think you were showing me quiet nicely.”

He chuckled against her hair. “Not nearly as much as I would have liked.”

He eased her onto the sofa beside him, rose to his feet and offered his hand. “How about something to drink? I need some water. Preferably with lots of ice.”

She let him pull her from the cushions. On the way to the kitchen, she glanced over to a photograph, no different than the other gold and silver gilded pictures on top of an antique oak bookcase, and faltered. Marla. The woman’s gaze seemed to follow Kristen as she walked from the room. Chin raised, long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, Morgan’s wife looked back defiantly.

In the kitchen, Kristen couldn’t rid herself of Marla’s image or her curiosity, she realized, as she watched him open a cupboard by the refrigerator and reach for a couple of tumblers.

“What was your wife like?”

The glasses knocked against each other. Fumbling, he retrieved two, turned and laughed harshly. “What a question!”

Leaning a hip against the counter, she waited.

He put both glasses on the kitchen island and frowned down at them. “She was nothing like you.”He glanced up. “I don’t mean that in a negative sense. She was always the first to dive into something new. You could say she had a wild streak and thrived on attention; probably because she never got any from her parents. Her father was a notorious workaholic, while her mother… Well, her mother just didn’t care.”

“It must have been hard knowing…I mean…to discover that your wife was pregnant with someone else’s child.”

She saw something—possibly pain—flash in his eyes before he moved to the refrigerator and filled their glasses with ice and water. “She thought she was in love with him. It almost killed her when she found out Jeff was only in it for a good time. He skipped town, you see, after he discovered she was going to have his child.”

“I’m so sorry—I don’t know what to say—”

He shrugged. “There’s really nothing to say. It’s old news. Life goes on.”

“Yes, but still.” Walking over to him, she looked up and searched his face. “You must have loved her very much.”

“Yes. Yes I did, but there’s many a day now that it feels like another lifetime.”

She tried to convince herself that his whimsical smile didn’t hurt as she took the glass he offered. After all, jealousy was a worthless and absolutely stupid emotion. She had no claim on his past. Or for that matter his future—

“She died in a car accident five years ago.” He took a sip of water and placed it on the island, then ran a finger along the edge of the counter, his face turning far too serious. “The typical story of a drunk driver. His car jumped the median and landed on the other side of the road. Fate had her driving directly in his path.”

“You must miss her.” She groaned to herself. What a stupid thing to say. To stop her mouth from another inane comment, she drank her iced water.

He shot her a look of surprise. “At times. Especially when it comes to Katie. She needs a mother. There’s going to be a time when she’s a teenager and I’m not going to be able to help her.”

“I think you’re underestimating yourself.” She wanted to ease the uncertainty in his face and the frown from his brow. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve managed wonderfully. She’s a lot like you, you know. Jeff would never match up to you. Jeff—”

Morgan winced. She snapped her mouth shut. How stupid could she get? He didn’t need reminding. He probably thought of Jeff too many times already.

“What’s that saying—” He shook his head. “I can’t think of it now. I guess it really doesn’t matter. The point is that I’ll never be able to forget he’s Katie’s father. How can I when she’s inherited some of his characteristics?”

“Like what?” The question tumbled from her lips.

“She’s always had this free-spirited attitude. Jeff used to be like that when we were going to college together. Out of the three of us, he was always the one to dive into things headfirst. I think that’s what eventually attracted Marla to him.”

“Well, you’re the one raising Katie,” Kristen insisted. “You’re the guiding influence in her life.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.” Glancing down to see his tightfisted grip on the edge of the counter, she closed her hand over his. “Jeff might be Katie’s biological father, but,” she squeezed his fingers, “you’re the one she thinks the sun sets and rises with. Jeff—” She closed her eyes, then reopened them. “I can’t even imagine now that I was actually thinking of marrying the man.”

He entwined his fingers with hers. “Everyone makes mistakes. Goodness knows I have. We just try to learn from them. That’s the most anyone can hope for.”

From somewhere a clock chimed. Kristen glanced down at her watch. “It’s already ten-thirty. I’d better get going. These last several days have been exhausting. I need to catch up on my rest this weekend.” She smiled. “Especially when I’ll be working all next week with a tyrant. If his employees—”

She couldn’t finish because his mouth was on hers. She caught his arms in surprise, then leaned into the kiss. When he finally pulled away, she stood transfixed. He sure knew how to pack a punch.

His brown eyes twinkled. “That’s what you get for teasing.”

“Maybe I should tease more often,” she quipped, reluctantly drawing away from the warmth of his body. “As much as I’d like to stay, I’ve got to go.”

Morgan followed Kristen to her car and watched her pull out of the driveway. For several minutes he stood in the middle of his front yard, staring at the point where her Focus’s red taillights had disappeared. Until now, he hadn’t realized how badly he had missed a woman’s company. Yet not any woman. Kristen. He breathed her name into the night as an unexplainable sadness pressed down on him.

Eventually the heat compelled him back inside. The click of the front door’s lock sounded hollow against the house’s silence. Times like now, he thought the place two damn big for him and Katie. Three thousand square feet of rooms and space.

He couldn’t shrug off this sudden loneliness, or the growing restlessness stirring through his body. Even the knowledge of his daughter—the one person he loved more than anything—sleeping within calling distance couldn’t shake the mood.

Striding into the living room, he almost didn’t see Katie. Her body rolled into a tight ball in the corner of the couch, she rocked back and forth.

“What’s wrong, Sweetie?”

Bending down, he placed a hand on her slender shoulder. She jerked away and whipped her head up.

He flinched at the hatred in her eyes. “Don’t touch me!”

“What’s wrong?” His stomach knotted with dread. “Come on. You can tell your old Dad. I won’t get angry.”

Her lips trembled violently. “You’re not my dad.”

“What?”

Her face reddened. “You’re a big, fat liar.” She stumbled to her feet, her hands bunching at her sides. “You don’t love me!”

“Of course I do!” Morgan quickly argued, forcing himself to remain calm. “You’re the most important thing in my life!”

“Liar!” She put her hands to her ears. “I heard you and Kristen. A man named Jeff is my father! I bet he doesn’t lie like you do! I bet he’s nicer. I bet…I bet—”

She raced out of the room. The slam of her bedroom door echoed from the hall.

He cringed. What the hell was going on around here? Was he screwing up everything?

In indecision, he stood in the middle of the room. Oh, God. He didn’t know what do to. Leave her alone or talk to her? Then he realized he had to straighten this out before the morning.

A chill ran up his spine. He didn’t know whether it was caused by the sudden blast of the air-conditioner switching on or a sense of foreboding.