Wild Rain Page 15

  Jillian’s eyebrows narrowed. “And just how did you hear that?”

  “I … have my sources.” She hurried on. “And when I didn’t hear from Mr. Braedon here, you can imagine how frantic I became.”

  Jillian’s arms loosened, her hands dropped to her hips. “You knew the name of the evac person sent here? Your sources must be incredible.”

  “Well, of course I knew who he was.”

  “Jillian,” Reese spoke for the first time.

  Jillian looked over her shoulder, clearly unsurprised at his presence behind her. “What?”

  Regina didn’t give him a chance to answer. She took a step toward Reese. “And if you think you’ll be paid for this rescue effort, you are sorely mistaken. I understood you were considered the best—”

  “Regina, he’s a volunteer. He doesn’t get paid for this.” She glanced at Reese. “Do you?” She shrugged and went on before either Regina or Reese could speak. “It doesn’t matter.” She faced Regina. “It wasn’t his fault I didn’t leave. In fact, it’s my fault his life was put at risk.”

  “Jillian—”

  “Mr. Braedon,” Regina said, interrupting his second attempt to explain. “I appreciate your tact regarding my instructions, but when I hired—”

  “I won’t take money for this, Mrs. Ravensworth,” Reese cut in, his frustration growing at the way this conversation had spun quickly out of his control. “I know you think you had Jillian’s best interests at heart, and I can’t blame you for wanting to secure her safety.”

  Jillian turned slowly toward him. “Reese, what are you talking about?”

  Reese sighed, but finished what he was saying to Regina, although he kept his gaze locked on Jillian while he spoke. “In your place, I can honestly say I’d have done the same thing. Or at least tried. But she’s a grown woman”—Reese’s body seconded that, his muscles clenching too tightly as he watched the horror of comprehension dawn slowly on her small face—“and while I don’t agree with her reasons for staying here, risking her life, I do think she has the right to make that choice herself.”

  He turned his head to Regina for a split second. “So you don’t have to fire me. I stopped working for you several hours ago.”

  “Reese?” Jillian took a half step in his direction, then stopped. Her hand lifted, then dropped to her side.

  Reese closed the small gap, wanting to touch her, not knowing if he’d ever be given that right again. He certainly wasn’t going to force the issue now, in front of her mother.

  “Jillian,” he said quietly, although he sensed Regina was hanging on his every word. “I should have told you. But Regina had asked me not to. And when I realized we were trapped here anyway, I didn’t see the point in angering you with the information.”

  “Angering me?” Her eyes widened. “Angering me?”

  “I didn’t know what the deal was with you and your mother, then. I don’t know it all now. But no matter why I was here to rescue you, the fact is it was still my job and I failed. We were stuck together no matter what. Put yourself in my place. Would you have told me?”

  Jillian’s eyes remained hard for several nerve-racking moments, then her shoulders relaxed and her jawline softened. “I suppose not.”

  Her chin dipped, and Reese lifted it back up without thought as to how the action would be perceived by Regina, not really caring. “I’m sorry,” he said so softly, only Jillian could hear. “I would have told you. Whatever happened between you and your mother, you have to know it has nothing to do with me. Once I realized we were trapped … Well, I was on my own. What I did, anything I did, I did because I wanted to.”

  “You’re right about one thing. You were just hired to do a job.” She lifted her chin from his touch and stepped back. “And now it’s over.”

  She turned away.

  “Jillian!” Regina stepped forward, her tone strident.

  Jillian turned back around, resignation clear on her face. “You got what you wanted, Mother. I’m alive. I’m safe.”

  “But, but …” Regina sputtered, then quickly regained her control. “Jillian, dear, surely you can see now that you can’t stay here.” At her daughter’s immediate defensive posture, she amended, “At least, not until you renovate … or whatever. I insist you come stay with Harold and me for a … while. This must have been a simply horrifying ordeal for you.” She looked at Reese, speculation over the exact details of said ordeal clear in her expression. “I’m sure that after a few months … or weeks, you’ll be in a much better frame of mind to deal with”—she waved her arm around, but didn’t actually look—“all of this.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Regina.” Jillian raised her hand to deflect her mother’s continued attempt to persuade her. “I have a lot to do and the sooner I begin, the sooner I can get this clinic operational again.” She paused for a moment, searching for the right words to placate her mother. “I appreciate your offer. And your help.” Jillian resisted the urge to look at Reese. “Really. But I’m okay.”

  And Reese was a huge part of why she was okay, but his part in all this was over, and the sooner she came to terms with that, the better.

  The slight tightening of the skin around Regina’s lips and the stiffening of her shoulders told Jillian just how upset her mother was with her rejection. But she refused to feel guilty.

  She knew Regina had been concerned about her, in her own way. But Jillian was equally certain that Regina had seen Hurricane Ivan as the perfect means to convince her daughter that her current lifestyle was simply untenable, and had used it as a way to get her daughter back under her control.

  Well, she’d failed. Again.

  “Give Harold my best.”

  Jillian turned away but hadn’t taken a step when her throat constricted and her chest tightened as visions of what had happened between her and Reese just prior to her mother’s arrival flooded her mind.

  She paused, unable to banish the images, to push Reese mentally aside as she had her mother.

  Lord, but those incredible moments with him, when he’d been inside her, when he’d taken her to nirvana and back, had been the singularly most intense experience of her life. And as much as she should probably regret them, she couldn’t.

  And doubted that she ever would, no matter how miserable the ensuing days, weeks, and months ahead became without him.

  It had happened. Magnificently, fiercely, naturally. But it wouldn’t happen again.

  She looked back at Regina. “If you have room, I’m sure Mr. Braedon would welcome a ride back to the mainland. I know he’ll want to contact his partner and check on his property in the Keys.”

  Regina looked from her daughter to Reese, then slowly back again. “Jillian?”

  The questions imbued in that simple one-word question were many, and Jillian wasn’t able to pretend she didn’t understand them. Might as well get past this too. It would save her from another visit or call from Regina where she’d be forced to rehash it anyway. Easier to do it now, before the pain was a raw festering thing and talking about it would be like picking at an open wound.

  She faced her mother. “Yes?”

  Regina stepped closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. A stage whisper. “Tell me you didn’t do anything … foolish.”

  “Not that it’s really any of your business, mother, but if you’re asking if Mr. Braedon and I were … intimate, then the answer is yes.”

  Regina’s hand flew to her throat. “Really, Jillian! Haven’t you learned anything from your past with Thomas and that environmentalist … that Laxalt man, what was his name?”

  “Richard.”

  “Yes, Richard. I mean, I know I’ve encouraged you to, you know … socialize. But as I’ve told you over and over, there are certain men who just aren’t … appropriate.”

  “You mean men with less money than me? Men who see dollar signs when they look at me? Yes, Mother, I know all about those men. Reese isn’t one of them.”

  Regina remained silent fo
r several moments as she stared at her daughter. “It’s not worth it, Jilly,” she said quietly.

  Jillian felt an immediate burning spring to the backs of her eyelids. Her mother hadn’t called her that since … since she was a very small child. Before … before Regina lost her husband, lost everything.

  “He’ll break your heart.” Regina reached out and took her daughter’s hand. She squeezed it lightly. “Just remember one thing, the pain lasts far longer than the pleasure.” She dropped her hand and stepped back, then turned.

  “Mother.”

  Regina paused, then looked back over her shoulder. Jillian thought she saw a suspicious glimmer in her mother’s eyes, but since Regina would die before she’d let her mascara run, she must have imagined it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “For what?”

  “I’m sorry Daddy hurt you so badly.”

  The glimmer became a wet glare across Regina’s pewter-gray eyes. She managed a quick nod, then walked toward the chopper.

  Jillian wiped the back of her hand across her eyes and watched as her mother spoke hurriedly to the pilot, then let him help her into the cockpit. She started to wave, but her mother was staring out the front windshield. She let her hand drop limply to her side. Suddenly she felt very drained. She turned around, and stumbled right into Reese.

  He took her upper arms in a gentle grasp. “You okay?”

  She nodded, but didn’t look up at him. No one should have to deal with all of this in one day, she thought dejectedly. Now she had to contend with Reese.

  And if her mother’s good-bye had been difficult, she was certain the one with Reese would prove worse. For her at least.

  Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and looked up at him, but before she could speak, the pilot rushed up to them.

  “Uh, Mr. Braedon, Mrs. Ravensworth would be happy to fly you back to the mainland, but she’d appreciate it if you would come now, sir.”

  Jillian noticed Reese didn’t even look at the man. His gaze was riveted on her.

  “Jillian?”

  His hold didn’t tighten, his voice was rough, but no more than it was normally. Jillian searched his face for a clue as to how he felt. Was he asking her permission to stay? Would he if she asked? And for how long? She searched desperately for the words to tell him she didn’t want him to go. No strings, no promises, no clutter.

  But they didn’t come. Instead she heard herself say, “Maybe you’d better go. I’m sure Regina will alert the authorities that I’m here.” She tried not to see the doubt in Reese’s eyes.

  He wouldn’t stay, and even if he did, it would only intensify the agony when he did go—which she knew he would. But she knew he’d make sure she was taken care of. He was that kind of man. It would have to be enough.

  “I have enough supplies to last me. And I’ll make sure your truck is safe. It’s still there, isn’t it?”

  Reese only nodded, his expression still unreadable. After an interminably long time, he jerked his head up to face the pilot, and nodded his assent.

  The pilot returned the acknowledgement and headed back across the grass toward the waiting helicopter.

  Not until then had Jillian felt the impact of what was going to happen. He was leaving her. She would likely never see him again. He could easily send someone for his truck and probably would. No clutter that way.

  She stepped back, pulling her arms from his grasp. Better to make this as easy as possible. No tears or long, uncomfortable good-byes. After all, what did one say to a man she’d met only yesterday, but thirty minutes before had ridden like a wild wanton? It’s been fun?

  She started to tremble under his scrutiny as it became progressively darker. If he didn’t leave quickly, it wasn’t going to be a clean break. The tears were too close to the surface. Oh God, she prayed, please let me at least end things this once without humiliating myself.

  And suddenly she was in his arms, and his mouth was hard on hers. He didn’t kiss her, he took her. He claimed her lips, branded her with his taste, his textures, his touch. And at the exact moment she felt her knees begin to sway, he set her away from him.

  “I know you want this to be over,” Reese said roughly. “And you’re probably right. But things aren’t that simple.”

  Hope spurted, then died. Jillian realized he was referring to the fact that they hadn’t used any protection earlier.

  “I’ll uh, let you know,” she said quietly, knowing it would be easy enough to track him down. Wondering if she would. A baby … Reese’s baby.

  His mouth tightened, and she felt her heart stop. The blur of emotions stirring in his blue eyes was too potent for her to allow herself to see … to believe in. And yet part of her, the part that would leave with him, pounded hard in her chest. And she silently urged him to say it … tell her what he was thinking.

  “I don’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep. Not the ones you need, at any rate. But I do take responsibility for my actions. If you’re pregnant, we’ll deal with it together. That’s a promise.”

  No. She started to shake her head. No! She didn’t want to hear this. At that moment she despised honesty.

  Then he reached out and traced a finger across her lower lip. She froze under his touch, knowing it was likely the last one she’d ever get from him.

  It took everything she had not to moan in despair when his hand dropped away.

  “What I can’t promise you, Jillian, is that I won’t be back anyway.”

  Through dry, hot eyes she watched him walk to the waiting helicopter.

  ELEVEN

  Reese entered the small suite of offices he shared with Cole Sinclair and slapped the folder he’d been carrying on his desk.

  “Braedon?”

  Reese sighed, then shrugged in a vain attempt to relieve some of the tension that seemed to be a permanent part of his shoulders and neck these days. Along with the bloody headache, bad attitude, and generally piss-poor outlook on life.

  He ducked his head into Cole’s doorway. “Yeah?”

  “You get that thing with Mr. Tomlinson wrapped up, okay?”

  Reese nodded. “Said he’d need us again next month when he has that fund-raiser up in West Palm.”

  “Sounds like you’re making quite a name up there among the moneyed set. First Mrs. Ravensworth, now Frank Tomlinson. Not bad, pal, not bad.”

  Reese tried not to snarl something rude in return. It wasn’t his partner’s fault that the very last place Reese cared to work, or even think about, was West Palm Beach.

  “Right-o, mate,” he said flatly. “Anything new come up?”

  Cole stared at him for a moment, then gestured for Reese to enter the room. “Have a seat.”

  Reese pushed off the doorframe and moved over to the chair. His thigh was mostly healed, he’d taken the stitches out several days ago. It didn’t ache at all anymore. He didn’t allow himself to think about why that depressed him.

  He started to sit down in one of the two navy blue padded chairs facing the desk when Cole rose quickly and gestured him away.

  “Watch out, Reese. Other chair.”

  Reese barely stopped himself in time. He levered upright and looked behind him.

  “Holy—” He bit off the curse. “A man can’t turn around these days without being attacked by three-legged alligators and carnivorous iguanas.”

  “What was that?”

  “What’s Elvis doing here?” The two-foot-long iguana looked up at Reese and blinked. “And what’s he doing in the chair?”

  His partner’s tanned skin darkened a shade. Only his wife, Kira, could make Cole react like a schoolboy caught passing notes in study hall. Normally Reese wouldn’t miss a chance to razz Cole, but he remained silent, feeling envious for the first time. It irritated the hell out of him.

  “He’s not feeling too well. Can’t get him to eat.”

  Reese heard the telltale signs of chirping. He should have heard the crickets right off. Would have if
his mind hadn’t been wandering … again.

  He looked at Cole. “Think maybe he finally figured out he’s supposed to eat plants and not bait?”

  Cole shrugged. “Can’t get him to eat anything.”

  “What does Kira say?”

  Cole picked up a pencil and stared at it as he drummed a steady beat on his desktop. “Kira would just as soon Elvis found somewhere else to eat all his meals—whatever they may be. You know how she feels about him.”

  “Yeah, the same way she does about you. Resigned to the horrible fate of spending the rest of her life with you.”

  A slow smile crossed Cole’s dark features. “Yeah, poor thing.”

  Reese still wasn’t used to seeing that spontaneous reaction change his partner’s face. There was a time when Reese thought—no, knew—he’d probably never see Cole smile again. Then Cole had met Kira Douglass …

  But instead of the sparkling gray eyes of his partner’s wife, Reese saw stormy, battle-shy ones.

  And he wondered—for the millionth time in the last ten days—how Jillian was doing, whether or not Cleo’s eggs had hatched, how the renovations were going … and if she laid awake at night aching for him even half as much as he ached for her.

  “You look like you need to hit something. What gives? You haven’t been the same since you flew back here on Mrs. Ravensworth’s private chopper. Something else happen during the hurricane you haven’t told me about? Aside from not getting paid, I mean?”

  Reese knew Cole’s last remark was meant to lighten things up. Cole’s trust was complete, as was Reese’s. He hadn’t given a reason for refusing payment, nor had Cole asked him for one. Just as Reese wouldn’t have asked had the situation been reversed.

  Reese stared at Cole for a long moment, then down at his fingers picking at the hole in the knee of his jeans. Without looking up, he said, “How long did you know Kira before … before you …?”

  Cole looked confused, then grinned broadly as he watched his partner stumble over his words.

  Reese heaved a heavy sigh then came straight out with it.