Authors: Christine Feehan
“I’m a little afraid of her,” Susan admitted.
“She wanted you to be afraid. That way you would never go to your father because you didn’t want to know if he’d believe you or not. She destroyed your trust in him, that’s what people like her do. There’s no reason. I’ll deal with her. Go change into your riding clothes.” He reached out and caught Emma’s wrist, preventing her from leaving the room while Susan headed for the door. “Susan.” He stopped her, waited until she turned back toward him. “If you’re ever put in a position you’re uncomfortable with again—
any
situation, including when you go on a date—you call me. I’ll give you my private number, which you won’t give out to anyone at all. Understood?”
Susan’s smile blossomed across her face. “Understood.”
Jake waited until Susan’s footsteps had faded down the hall and her door had closed before he swung Emma around in front of him and cupped her chin. His mouth was gentle, tender even, when he brushed his lips over hers. “Did she hurt you?”
“Calling me a slut? Or calling the kids bastards?”
“The children have a father. Me. My last name is on their birth certificates. And not just
a
slut—you’re
my
slut. Let’s remember the difference, Emma.” He kissed her again, a teasing smile on his face. “You’re my everything, so screw her.”
“She didn’t hurt me, Jake,” Emma said, knowing it was true. “Do you think Senator Hindman will believe you? I think Dana will try to cause trouble for you—for Susan—maybe even for all of us.”
“Don’t you worry about that traitor,” Jake said, his voice so low it terrified her. “She’ll find out what it’s like to lose everything and live on the streets, servicing anyone who can buy her for a nickel.”
“Jake.”
“She fucking called you a whore, Emma. She called my children bastards. She tried to spy on us. But worst of all, she abused her position of power over a sixteen-year-old kid. I’m going to take her down.”
He kissed her again and she tasted his anger. He tasted wild, primitive and all male. She opened her mouth to try to soothe him, but he rained kisses all over her face.
“I’m more furious that I couldn’t protect you from someone like her in our own house.”
“What do you think she was after, planting the microchip?”
“I think my enemies want one or both of our children. I’ve locked down the house and you’re a complete mystery to them. They needed a way to collect information.”
Emma frowned up at him. “Do you think Senator Hindman is involved?”
“No.” Jake picked up his phone. “The senator has a viper in his home. Trent and the Bannaconnis have been trying to find a way to blackmail him for years. He’s never been controlled by them. They obviously planted Dana Anderson in his home.”
Maybe it was obvious to Jake, but it wasn’t so obvious to her. “I’m glad I don’t have to be the one to figure out what’s going on,” she said.
Jake kissed her again. “Go have fun riding with the kids and Susan, and don’t worry about anything.”
He watched her turn away and then turn back toward him, shyness in her usually confident eyes. “What is it, honey?” he asked gently. He loved her like this, soft and so vulnerable to him.
“I just wanted to make certain you were all right. You’re always so busy taking care of us, but did she hurt you with the things she said?”
He stepped close to her, to her warmth, drawing her slowly into his arms, pressing her soft body against his. He just held her, his chin on top of her head, his hand cupping the nape of her neck as he nuzzled the silky waterfall of red hair cascading down her back. Emma slid her arms around him and held him tightly, as if she were trying to comfort him.
Perhaps the memory of his childhood was too close, having witnessed Susan being made to feel so small and helpless, but he held Emma even closer, knowing this moment was another first for him—his first genuine offer of comfort from another human being. He wasn’t in need of consoling, not because of the likes of Dana Anderson, but for all those lost childhood years, for all of his long, empty years isolated and alone as an adult.
She was tearing down his walls too fast, and he had to stop her before it was too late for him. His heart raced, adrenaline pouring in, flooding his veins. Hard knots formed in his belly. It was frightening to know a part of him wanted to strike at her, push her away, take back the control she didn’t even know she had stolen from him. Already his fingers fisted in her hair, tight, close to her skull, deliberately pulling on her tender scalp as he forced her head back. He was breathing hard, great, ragged breaths, as he stared down into her face.
Emma felt the difference in him immediately. He went from Jake to a cornered beast, his eyes that slashing gold that indicated a fight for survival. She stayed pliant and unresisting, wanting to cry for him, for the feral animal trapped in those eyes. “I love you, Jake,” she said softly, knowing it was true.
The eyes glittered at her, lips drew back in a snarl, baring white teeth as they snapped together. “Don’t say that to me.”
“I love you,” she repeated, unafraid. His face was a mask of burning fury, but she felt his body shudder against hers in a kind of surrender.
The fingers tightened to the point of pain, bringing tears to her eyes. “Don’t say it,” he hissed, his heart already gone. Panic set in. She was so fragile. He could break her neck with one movement. He could tear out her heart. He could destroy her so easily, yet she looked at him without fear, her expression radiant. Absolute. “Like in the damned pictures,” he whispered, and brought his mouth down on hers, afraid she would see—would know—about the burning in his eyes and the lump clogging his throat.
She gave her mouth to him, uncaring that he was savage, almost brutal, kissing him back, matching fire for fire until he calmed and couldn’t stop the gentleness, the tenderness that she found in him, from emerging. “You’re destroying me, Emma,” he whispered, his forehead against hers. “You’re fucking destroying me with every breath you take.”
“I’m making you stronger,” she answered. “You make me stronger. That’s the way it works.”
He hoped so. He hoped she knew what the hell she was talking about, because he was in virgin territory.
The kitchen door banged open. “Emma!” Joshua yelled at the top of his lungs. “The kids are losing their minds out here. If you don’t move it, we’re going to have a mini rebellion.”
Joshua sounded harassed. Jake and Emma looked at each other and burst out laughing. She ran through the house. “I’m coming, sheesh. I had to take care of some business.”
“I can see what kind of business you were taking care of,” Joshua complained. He raised his voice so Jake could hear. “I’m not a babysitter.”
“What a wimp,” Emma teased. “A couple of little kids and you’re whining like a baby.” She caught up the reins Conner held out and swung up onto the little mare Jake had purchased for her. The horse had beautiful lines, but it was the training he’d paid for. She moved at the slightest request, her gait gentle and flowing.
Conner had Andraya sitting in front of him, her cheeks red with excitement, her pink riding helmet matching her beloved boots. Sometimes she refused to take off her boots, wanting to wear them to bed at night. Kyle was waiting impatiently for Joshua to remount behind him. He was all in black, matching his daddy’s hat and boots, although he too wore a helmet.
“You’re in so much trouble, Joshua,” Emma warned. “You’re not supposed to bring the horses up to the house. The gardener hates that. They trample his flowers and leave big messy surprises.”
“It’s your fault.” Joshua still hadn’t forgiven her. He knew the gardener would vent for hours, screaming in Italian at her and throwing rich, fertile dirt in the air in one of his frequent tantrums. Only Emma could soothe him when he was in a rage over the destruction of his beloved gardens.
Jake had sought out Taddio, his gardener, years earlier, after hearing several people first praise him as one of the top landscape artists in three states, then drop him after an accident had left him with one arm. He still had his genius, but none of them wanted to look at his “disgusting imperfection.” He had been with Jake exclusively ever since, designing the landscaping around his buildings, the homes he bought and sold, and the ranch as well.
They rode in single file, Emma listening to the bantering between Joshua and Susan. The teenager sat with perfect form, shoulders straight, chin up, with a new confidence Emma hadn’t seen in her before. Andraya and Kyle bounced and kicked and held the reins whenever Joshua and Conner allowed it, laughing in delight as they commanded the horses.
Emma had never really ridden a horse until a year earlier, when Jake had decided to teach her, along with putting Kyle on a horse for the first time. He’d been careful of her, but he’d pushed her to overcome her fears, until she’d finally realized there was freedom and joy in the power of the animal.
The riding trail was narrow as it wove through the trees to come to a small stream that the horses splashed across. This was the easiest trail, and one they used whenever they took Kyle and Andraya riding. No steep terrain, just flat land that stretched for miles. In the distance there were a few sloping hills. The wind had a bite to it and Emma was glad she’d insisted the children always have their jackets with them when they went riding.
In the distance, off to her right, as Emma topped a rise, she noticed dust rising, a large amount. She reined in to study the dust cloud, to determine what it might be. She glanced back and Joshua and Conner were talking to the children and helping them with the reins. She shifted her weight forward, lifting the reins slightly, and the little mare set off using her smooth, fast gait. Emma abandoned herself to the sheer joy of riding, feeling the wind in her hair and the breeze on her face. She urged the horse faster, using her knees to control the speed, just as Jake had said she could do. For just a few moments, she was alone, horse and rider charging across the land and her own laughter ringing in her ears.
She heard the sound of hoofs and turned her head to see Susan urging her horse up beside hers. They ran side by side, throwing grins back and forth, hair whipping in the wind, the horses running smoothly and confidently.
Emma’s horse suddenly swerved, eyes rolling, head tossing. Emma pulled her reins just as Susan’s horse began acting up. Emma lifted her head to try to catch the elusive scent, but her horse tried to bolt and she turned her attention to controlling the animal. She had to force its head around, circling. Susan’s horse turned tail and made a dash back toward the ranch.
Thunder rolled ominously. The ground shook. She felt the vibrations travel up the horse’s leg to her body, and she swung her head back to look in the direction of the dust cloud. It was nearly on top of her. The mare crow-hopped, letting out a terrified squeal. Emma kicked her hard in the ribs and bent low over her neck, racing back toward the relative safety of the treeline.
One moment she was riding alone, the next she was swept up in a sea of running horses. One broadsided her mare, crushing Emma’s leg. For a heart-stopping moment the mare stumbled, her head lowered and she kicked out with her back legs, sending Emma flying to the ground. Hooves rained down on her. She rolled, curling into a ball, hands over her head to protect herself. The ground was soft from the rain and she wiggled into a depression against the side of a small boulder.
She heard the sound of gunfire and a man’s shout. Joshua had shoved Kyle onto Conner’s horse and had ridden right into the stampeding herd, in front of Emma, firing his weapon, shifting the flow of the herd. The horses thundered past, swerving away from her. When the sound died down and the earth quit shaking, she dropped her hands and rolled over to stare up at the stormy sky, tears blurring her vision. There didn’t seem to be a place on her body that didn’t hurt.
“Don’t move, Emma,” Joshua commanded. He didn’t sound at all like the Joshua she knew, and when she looked at him, his eyes glowed, small red lights playing through them. “Drake will send the helicopter for you.”
She meant to tell him that was silly, that she was perfectly all right, but for some reason, when she opened her mouth nothing came out. She heard Andraya screaming for her and lifted her hand to beckon Conner to bring the children to her so she could reassure them, but Joshua shook his head, crouching over her like a protective bulldog. When he even waved Susan off, she tried to move.
A groan escaped and everything went black.
14
“STOP moving around so much.”
Emma let her breath out in a long hiss. “If one more person tells me that, I’m going to hit them over the head.” She glared at Jake. “You especially. Don’t you have work to do? I’m fine. I’ve been sitting in this den for two days doing nothing. You won’t even let me pick up the kids. If you growl at Andraya one more time, she’s going to think you’ve turned into a grumpy old bear.” She pressed her lips together, aware she sounded bitchy, but she couldn’t help it. She felt trapped, like the walls were closing in on her.
“Have you taken a look at yourself? You’re covered in bruises.” Jake stroked the pad of his finger gently down her left shoulder and arm, bruised from getting kicked by a horse. She’d been lucky her arm wasn’t broken. She had bruises on her leg from a horse slamming into her and bruises on her hip from landing on the ground so hard.
“Can I just say you’re overreacting?”
“I don’t overreact,” Jake denied.
“You were going to shoot every horse on the property, you maniac. I would call that overreacting, and keeping me sitting here is definitely overreacting.” When he just remained looming over her like some Neanderthal man, she sighed. “Jake. Come on. I’m going crazy.” She winced at the pathetic little whimper in her voice.
She was edgy and moody and wanted to rip and tear at something. Jake had insisted she go to the hospital to be checked out. He took the doctor’s instructions seriously—too seriously. When the doctor said he wanted her to be quiet, Jake thought that meant completely immobile. He let the children kiss her and talk to her, but only in short visits. He’d slept in her bed, his arm around her waist, but that had been all, no other touching. His kisses drove her wild, and her body ached for his, but he insisted on handling her as if she might break at any moment.