Light My Fire: A Loveswept Classic Romance Read online

  He kissed her again, then lifted his head and smiled. “Like you couldn’t keep me from almost breaking my neck to save you. You sure as hell didn’t blame that on yourself.”

  Her brow furrowed again, and his heart stopped. For a split second he wanted to kill himself for taking it one step too far. She was in so much pain, facing some very tough truths, and he couldn’t bully her any longer. He would never forgive himself if she took to heart what he’d meant as a joke. “Jenna,” he warned. Her expression smoothed, and a small tentative smile curved her lips.

  “True,” she said. “That was your own stupid fault.”

  He was still concerned.

  “God, but I’m a jinx,” she said, her breath still hitching.

  He knew she’d meant to sound sarcastic, but she missed the boat by a mile. He cupped her head and turned it to his. Sternly, he said, “Jenna, you do not control the lives of those around you. They get to make their own choices about what they do. And it’s their choices, not yours, that determine their fate.”

  “I know, I know,” she said, and he believed her. He closed his eyes on a sigh of relief.

  When he opened them she was regarding him steadily. “I do understand, T.J. In my head I always have. But in my heart …” She looked away for a second, then pulled her gaze back to him, as if it were something she had to do. There was determination in her eyes again and something else that— She dipped her chin and kissed the spot where his heart was beating.

  “You understand, T.J. In your head and your heart. I wish for your sake you didn’t, because it means you went through the same sort of hell I did. But somehow you came out of it whole. And you’ve shown me the way to make myself whole. I can’t tell you what that means. It’s … there’s more. About Toby. About me. A lot more. But I think I can begin to deal with that too. It’s … T.J., I can’t …” She sniffed, and he watched her swallow hard against renewed tears. “It’s the most tremendous gift, and I have no way to thank you that can do it justice.”

  “You did all that and more with your kiss,” he said gruffly, his own eyes suddenly burning. “Come here, Jenna.” He pulled her up until her face was even with his. “I’m glad I helped you. I’ll listen to all of it, whatever you need to tell me. I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t want to see you hurting anymore.” He cupped her head close until their lips were close to touching. “For right now, kiss me.” He brushed his lips against hers. “We’ve had enough hurt. It’s time for some pleasure. There has to be pleasure too.”

  ELEVEN

  Jenna wanted badly to sleep, but she kept her gaze trained on the rearview mirror. It was warped and the glass was cracked, but she could still make out Bob, trailing behind the pickup truck as they slowly drove to the small cluster of outbuildings.

  Freeing Bob had required her to shimmy on her back under the fence to look in the equipment shed for something to cut him loose with. They’d caught one minor break when she found a large box in the back of the dilapidated farm truck that contained fence-repair supplies, including a pair of wire cutters. Bob had come through minus some fur, but without a scratch. She couldn’t say the same for herself. Images of T.J.’s face, sweet and teasing, dark with desire, taut with pain, swam through her mind.

  She wanted to sleep. Not think. Her body was well past exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t shut down. So much had happened in the last twelve hours, and it all buzzed in her head like a swarm of bees, each of which had something equally important to say. If she could rest for a while, she could begin to put everything together, begin to sort the chaos into some semblance of order so she could figure out what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

  She glanced at T.J., as she had done frequently, whether she chose to or not. His face was drawn in a tight grimace and weary fatigue lines bracketed his mouth and eyes, replacing the ones of warmth and humor. Once again she was stunned by how he’d put his own pain aside and focused on helping her. Her skin heated again and her pulse quickened, making her want to groan. She was too tired to have her heart beat even a second faster. But thoughts of his arms around her, his mouth on hers, him driving inside her— Enough! She couldn’t deal with this now.

  It had been a pivotal moment in her life, joining herself to this man. But what had followed had been even more profound. He’d guided her through her guilt and misery, showing her the path out. Monumental. She found herself studying him yet again. Simply looking at him brought on a rush of emotion that should have terrified her.

  Instead she felt … safe. He provided a peaceful, gentle, yet indestructible sense of security. That’s what she’d found; in his arms, in his eyes, in his words, in his actions. She couldn’t be terrified. There was a rightness to him, to being with him. It went deeper than feeling or thought, she couldn’t completely explain it, but nevertheless she knew on a fundamental level the link existed, without questions or exceptions. And always would.

  A sensation of pure wonder rushed over her, sizzling and snapping along her every nerve ending, the message undeniable.

  She was falling in love with T. J. Delahaye.

  “Uh-oh.” T.J.’s dire tone yanked her from that stunning revelation like nothing else could have.

  His expression had her turning to look forward. A couple of small barns loomed directly in front of them. “What’s wrong?”

  “No activity. The whole place looks abandoned.” He pulled around the largest barn. “I wonder wha—” He broke off on a whispered expletive as Jenna inhaled sharply.

  “Fire,” they both said.

  Bile rose in her throat, hard and unexpected. On some level, she knew the reaction was due to her having so recently relived her childhood experiences on her parents’ ranch. Still, the force of the reaction bothered her. She pressed a hand to her stomach and took a slow, steady breath, quelling the riot in her stomach even as she forced herself to survey the area.

  “Treetops are gone higher up. Looks like a canopy fire that took to the ground once it crossed the ridge,” she said without thinking. “Winds were bad this summer. We had these in my region too.”

  T.J. stopped the truck and turned his head toward her. She kept her gaze forward, suddenly realizing what she’d unthinkingly revealed. She waited for the inevitable questions, her rocky stomach pitching lightly again. She knew she should have expected this, she even wanted to talk to him about it. About Toby. Maybe she’d spoken out loud on purpose.

  She pressed her hands more firmly on her abdomen, as if the action would still the thoughts rocking her mind along with the anxiety unsettling her stomach.

  After what felt like an eternity, he shifted his gaze to the front. All he said was, “Looks like the building on this side and the house escaped damage.”

  Jenna nodded, trying to quell the huge sigh of relief that eased from her. He truly understood. She’d known he did, but he’d proven it again by backing off when she needed him to. “They were lucky,” she said, thinking all the while that she was the lucky one. She turned her attention back to the ranch. The burned-out ridge that had bordered the creek slanted northward, opening up into the narrow valley. The creek also wended its way across the ranch, a dividing line between destruction and salvation. On the other side of the creek, acre upon acre of ground was blackened, scorched, littered with the remains of other ranch buildings and backed by the ridge dotted with charred pine stumps. “Looks like they saved their biggest buildings, but the rest, along with almost all of their grazing land, is gone.”

  Bob wandered up to the passenger window. Jenna looked at him as he surveyed his surroundings, and his long lashes blinked slowly several times. He was only an animal, but there was something infinitely sad in that gaze. It made her throat ache.

  Suddenly she couldn’t bear it another second. She popped the handle and swung the door open, barely missing Bob.

  “Where are you going?”

  Jenna ground her teeth against the constant pain as she slid her good foot to the ground. “Bob needs food
and water.”

  “So do we.”

  Bracing her weight against the side of the truck, she retrieved her crutches from the back. “Come on, Bob.” The rusty cab door squealed as she shoved it shut.

  “Jenna—”

  “I need to take care of him first,” she said, her sharp tone daring him to disagree. She looked through the open window at T.J., wanting to be angry, needing to be angry. She was dead tired and had serious doubts about her ability to remain upright beyond the next five seconds. Anger was the only reserve of energy she had left to call on.

  The tender concern on T.J.’s face fueled it, but it was the understanding that shone from his eyes and voice as he nodded and said, “Do what you have to do,” that ended up being the well of strength she drew from.

  A rush of emotions flooded her, almost undoing her. As she looked at him feelings of love, tenderness, and a desire so pure she had no idea how to channel it, poured from her head to her heart and straight into her soul. It was all she could do to keep from sliding to the ground in a heap.

  She was trembling from her shoulders to her knees, the reaction due to far more than fatigue. She wanted to open the door and crawl across the seat and into his lap and the warm circle of his arms where she knew everything would be okay. She, who had made a career out of strength and will and taking care of herself, wanted nothing more than to beg T. J. Delahaye to take care of her. For the first time she wanted—needed—to share the load.

  But she couldn’t. She’d started this and she would damn well finish it. Bob was her responsibility, and she had to prove to herself she could still handle one. Straightening her spine and doing her best to coerce her muscles into steady compliance, she managed to nod stiffly, keeping her lips clamped together in a firm line.

  He stared at her for a long moment. The gathering shadows of early evening didn’t hide the sharp intensity of his gaze or the very real promise he’d made no effort to hide. “I’m going to go to the house and see if we can get in. I’ll come back for you.”

  She had no idea what to say. She turned toward the barn.

  “I’ll come back for you, Jenna.”

  He should have had to yell to be heard over the recalcitrant engine. He hadn’t, and yet his velvet-soft words enveloped her anyway, surrounding her as surely as his arms would, with warmth and comfort. Amazing, she thought, her throat aching again. She paused, wanting to turn or even lift a hand in acknowledgment, but she was running on empty and even that tiny effort suddenly seemed too much.

  “Go on,” he called. “I’ll be back.”

  She nodded again, less stiffly this time, and resumed her controlled stumble toward the barn. It wasn’t until she’d reached the cool, dank interior that she realized she was smiling. He truly was amazing. So what are you going to do about it? her inner voice queried. Tell him, was the immediate answer. Her smile grew.

  Bob’s warm nose nudged her shoulder, jolting her from her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, but the words were gentle. “You’re home.” As she said the words she had the feeling that somehow, she had come home too. “Let’s find you some food,” she continued, her voice a note huskier than usual. Energy from a new well sprang open inside her, infusing her with warmth and strength. As she followed the llama deeper into the shadowed barn interior, she realized the new source was hope. In that moment she thought she could do anything.

  Probably delirious from lack of food, water, and sleep, she told herself, but her smile remained. She paused at a stall door. The sensation of homecoming took root and grew rapidly. Familiar smells, familiar feelings … She half expected to see a horse lean his head out from one of the stalls. Her heart tightened as memories flooded her. She didn’t analyze them, but she didn’t resist them either.

  Balancing her weight, she reached out and rubbed Bob’s neck. He hummed deep in his throat. “What do you guys eat?” As she looked at him her heart felt lighter than it had in what seemed like aeons. “And first thing tomorrow, you’re getting a bath. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Bob ol’ buddy, you stink.”

  T.J. drove the truck around the entire house, over grass, gravel, and dirt. It wasn’t the most thorough investigation, but it was the only one his body could manage at the moment. Neat and tidy, he decided, but definitely abandoned. He could get them in, no problem. Of course in his current condition, it would be easier if there was a door or ground-floor window unlocked somewhere. The front door caught his attention. Or more specifically, the small lock on the door handle caught his attention. He groaned.

  The property was evidently for sale. There was no sign in the yard, but maybe there was one at the end of the winding drive. He couldn’t see that far.

  He debated briefly whether to get out now and find a way in or go back for Jenna. At his current rate of speed even a simple B&E might take some time. Jenna would be done by then, and he knew damn well she wouldn’t wait for him to pick her up. That meant he picked her up first. He’d worry later how to explain his entry methods and where he’d learned them. And he knew he’d have to. No way would Jenna wait patiently in the truck.

  He was halfway across the open space between house and barn before he faced the fact that he wasn’t really upset about being put in the position of explaining what he did for a living, who he was. In fact, he was actually almost looking forward to it. Another step down this new path. He took it with anticipation and not a little dread. In there somewhere was also a sense of relief, as if after years of wandering the globe, he’d finally found what he’d been searching for. Quite a shock for a man who’d never been aware that he was looking in the first place. The irony that he’d ended up right back where he’d started from didn’t escape him either.

  The sight of Jenna slowly dragging herself away from the barn zapped those thoughts from his head. His heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her. She was leaning so heavily on her makeshift crutches, T.J. was surprised she was still upright. Bob was nowhere to be seen, so she’d apparently found a place for him.

  He’d known better than to argue with her earlier, no matter how hard it had been to drive away. A blind man could see her last thread had unraveled some time ago. But he’d already learned what the determination he’d seen in her eyes meant, and he respected it. She’d needed to do this. Her choice. No matter how hard it was for him, he’d had to let her follow through on it.

  He pressed a little harder on the gas, though the result was marginal. The truck barely functioned. But it would serve its purpose. If he could get the damn thing to Jenna before she collapsed. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to pick her up if she did.

  As he got closer he saw that her gaze was focused rigidly on the ground in front of her. He was almost beside her before she looked up. Even determination couldn’t overcome the vacant glaze he saw in her eyes. He pulled up so the passenger door was even to her. His shoulder screamed, but he leaned over and shoved at the door handle.

  “Can you get in?”

  “Of course I can,” she shot back, but the retort was barely audible. She managed to get the door open wide enough, but the balance necessary to toss her crutches in the back and climb in seemed beyond her current capacities.

  Twice his hand hit his own door handle, though he had no idea what he could do at this point to help her. Even though he’d released the seat all the way back before getting in, he was beginning to realize there was a decent chance that when he unwedged his now unsplinted leg from the cab and stood upright, the resulting rush might black him out. He was damn sure he could only do it once. “Jenna—”

  She leaned heavily on the frame of the open door, lifting one hand enough to shush him. “I can do it. Stop rushing me.”

  If he hadn’t been so worried and at the end of his own rope, he’d have chuckled, if for no other reason than to spur her into finishing the task. Ah, Jenna, my sweet, stubborn, determined love. He didn’t fight the emotions this time, the warmth and energy were too vital.

  “The house is e
mpty, but in good shape,” he said, giving her something to focus on while she drummed up the will to lever herself into the truck. “They’ve got it up for sale and are apparently actively showing it, so we might get lucky and have heat and water.”

  With a long groan she hauled herself into the truck. T.J. reached out and grabbed her arm, helping her in.

  “Right now I’d settle for anything flat and stable with a roof over it.”

  T.J. caught the wince and saw her clenched jaw as she shifted frontward, settling herself, before letting her head tilt back on a long sigh.

  “Home, James.” A weary grin tilted the corners of her mouth. Eyes closed, she added, “Or Jefferson, as the case may be.”

  If there were such things as heartstrings, she’d knotted his up so tightly, he knew he’d never untangle them. Just as he knew he wasn’t the least bit interested in trying. What he wanted was to find a way to wind hers up just as tightly. He stared at her, wonder racing neck and neck with fear. How could she have already come to mean so much to him? And even more terrifying: what if he didn’t mean as much to her?

  Her skin was so pale, the setting sun cast the angles of her face in stark relief, the brush of pale lashes against her cheek making her look fragile, yet he found his mouth curving. “Right you are, madam,” he intoned in perfect imitation of a proper British chauffeur. Before the truck had rolled ten feet, she was asleep. “Right you are, indeed,” he added softly. Right for me.

  When Jenna opened her eyes, it was full dark. It took her a startled moment to recall where she was. In the truck. As her eyes adjusted, the looming shadow in front of her became the house. The angle of the roof blocked the moon, but she doubted it was too long past sundown. She shivered as awareness of the chilled air seeped through her shirt and into her consciousness at the same time. It was at that moment that she realized two things: she was alone, and she’d slept without having nightmares.