Fate Intended (The Coulter Men Series Book 3) (14 page)

Chapter 18

Jane sat on the closed toilet while Trip gently washed the blood from her hand. Sasha leaned against the doorframe, watching over Trip’s shoulder from her peripheral view. “So, you knocked her a good one, hmm? Damn, I wish I’d been there.”

Sasha laughed, a low, throaty growl. She lit a cigarette, bracing the lighter against her glass of vodka. She took a long draw, then exhaled, chin tilted back, laughter still purring from her lips. “In the future, Jane, use a roll of quarters…not a handful of change.”

Trip glanced over his shoulder at Sasha. Jane scowled at her.

“Just trying to teach you the things Viktor would want you to know.”

Trip said nothing as he wiped the crescent shaped wounds with antibacterial ointment. “You had a tetanus shot lately?”

“A what?” Jane asked.

“Tetanus shot,” he repeated without looking up from his work.

Jane’s heart missed a beat, but her brain didn’t. “Of course, updated all my shots to get my work visa.”

“Good.”

Sasha sniffed and blew smoke across the little room. “So, cowboy, why are you here? Any plans to go bandage up the evident loser in this little boxing match? Or are you keeping your next house call a secret?”

“Sash!” Jane snapped.

“I deserved that,” Trip said, his voice even, eyes steady on his nursing job. “I explained to Jane that I did ask her to leave because Olivia was there.” He looked over his shoulder at Sasha, then returned to his work. “I needed to speak with Olivia to explain it was over. I wasn’t trying to double deal, I just didn’t want to embarrass anyone or cause a scene.”

“Well, shit. Why did you want that? Oh my. A fight like that could have been a treasured memory. To have gotten to see Jane knock her out in front of everyone. In her dress, legs sprawled, uppity little ass out cold on the floor. Oh, that would have been priceless.”

“It would have made an impression all right,” Jane answered, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. “I’m not proud of what I did, Sasha. I don’t like it when I lose my temper.”

“Give yourself a pat on the back,” Sasha offered. “Your father would be proud.”

Jane shook her head and dropped her glance to her hand.

Trip’s warm eyes bore the question good manners would not allow him to ask. Jane breathed a sigh of relief as he opened a box of gauze and silently wound it around her hand.

Jane felt guilty for telling him so little after giving him hell about secrets, so she said cautiously, “My poppa. . .” Jane thought of ways to describe her father, but couldn’t. She simply summed him up with, “Was a different fellow.”

“You said he taught you to punch,” Trip said as he gathered up his trash and tossed it in the bin. “Was he a boxer?”

Jane shrugged. “No. He was a businessman.”

“But before that he was a street fighter,” Sasha offered, adding, “And he never really left that in the past. You’re lucky he’s gone, cowboy. He’d have taken a ball bat to your head for making his baby cry.”

“Not sure I know what to say to that,” Trip said.

“He wouldn’t have,” Jane responded hastily. “He was a bear of a man. And he seemed scary, but he was as sweet as a puppy.” Jane sighed.

Trip nodded. “Sounds a bit like my mother, though I’d say she’s a cross between a hell cat and mama bear. She’s the one in my family people fear.” Trip laughed as he washed his hands and dried them on the towel hanging from the rack.

“But she’s tiny. I might be able to take her.” Jane grinned.

Trip laughed. He presented her cleaned and bandaged hand with a kiss. “You know what they say about mama bears and threatened cubs. Besides,” he said as he pinched Jane’s nose, “you’re not so big yourself, little Ali.”

“At least go for a featherweight. Mohammad Ali was a big bastard,” Sasha said.

Jane smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I never…well usually never,” she looked at her hand, “resort to violence. I’m still a little shocked with myself.”             

“Olivia brings out the best in people,” Trip offered and then added, “Kind of like your friend. Right, Sasha?”

Sasha’s brow arched, but she grinned as she flipped him the finger.

“Maybe I can fix you up with Frankie from the party, Sasha. He has a caustic, abrasive personality.” Trip leaned against the bathroom wall. “You’d be perfect for each other.”

Jane laughed; Sasha sneered.

“I’m serious. I think you caught his eye.” Sasha stood up straight. Her jaw hardened, but Trip didn’t seem to notice. He continued, “He wanted to know everything about you. I’ve never known Frankie to be so interested in a woman. And I know he may not be much to look at, but he’s a great guy.”

“Sasha doesn’t care about looks. You ought to see fatty.”

“I think I’ll stick with my fat little shit. Tell your friend to mind his business, not mine.” Sasha downed her vodka, turned and headed for the couch.

Trip looked at his watch. “It’s getting late. But, I did want to ask you what you are doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Jane thought a moment, “Well, I will be working.”

“You’re working tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“But tomorrow is Sunday.”

“Oh. Is that an important day or something?”

“Of course.” He took her hands in his. “God said to rest. You going to defy him?”

Jane answered slowly, “Um, no?”

“Of course not! You’ll spend the day with me.”

“I would like that.”

“How ‘bout you, Sasha,” he yelled toward the couch, “want to come for dinner?”

“Hell no,” Sasha answered quickly. “I’ll celebrate my celestial rest order with a bottle of vodka and a fresh pack of smokes.”

Jane giggled and whispered, “I don’t think she gets it.”

Trip pulled her close, arms wrapped tight around her waist. “That’s okay. You’re the only one I want anyhow. I was just being polite.”

Jane laughed and gave him a kiss. “So, will you check on Olivia?”

Trip shook his head. “Not unless you want me to. I’ve been honest with her, Jane. I’ve tried to be respectful. I don’t need to listen to any more ass chewing from her. I figure she ran her mouth pretty good to get you so angry.” He brushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. “You’re all that matters.”

She played with the button on his shirt and tried not to seem so pleased, but she was. He didn’t care that she had punched her. He really did like her. She grinned. When he kissed her, she relaxed against him, her body warm and pliable.

She accompanied him to the lobby where she gave him one last kiss before saying good-night. She was so happy she offered a, “Hello, Eddie!” as she passed the front desk to the elevator.

“Way to reel him in, Miss Jane. Get that boy to put out and he’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand.”

Jane waved him off like she had no interest, but turned from the elevator and leaned across the desk and whispered, “What do you mean ‘put out’?”

Eddie laughed and turned several deep shades of red. “I shoulda known better than say that to you. You leave no question unasked.”

“You were right. I like him. A lot. I want him eating from my hand. Tell me how.”

“Oh trust me, the boy is thinking it. You won’t have to make it happen.” Eddie sorted mail into slots, not looking Jane in the eye.

“Make what happen?”

“It.” Eddie dropped the mail and leaned close as he said softly. “The nasty? The horizontal tango?”

“I can’t dance.”

“Oh dear God, I am regretting this. Jen always says I talk too much.” He leaned even closer, his mouth inches from her ear. “Sex, Jane. I’m talking about sex.”

“Ahh. I see.” Jane chewed her lip as she thought. Trip was always a gentleman. It could be forever before she had him eating from her hand. “Is there a way to make him do this…sooner?”

Eddie shook his head. “Relax, Jane. He’s thinking it. Don’t worry about it. I was just pulling your leg.”

Jane nodded, but her face remained serious as the wheels started turning. How could she seduce Trip Coulter? Silently, she walked to the elevator and pressed the button. It dinged and opened. She reached for the lanyard she usually wore around her neck with the key that sent the elevator to the basement level. She’d forgotten it again. She turned to a red, chuckling Eddie and asked, “Buzz me down, Eddie. I forgot my key.”

“Sure thing, Jane. Sleep tight, sweetness.”

Chapter 19

Jane’s mind was a frenzy of half-hatched plans for seduction as she rode along with Trip to his home. As they passed out of the city to the surrounding wintery grey suburbs, her daydreams dissolved into worry. Turning from a four-lane to a less-traveled two-lane, then up a gravel road, tension tightened her shoulders. So, she expected him, a single man, to live in an apartment in the city. It was no big deal that she was evidently totally wrong. There wasn’t a law that said he had to fit her every stereotype.

The steep private drive led them to a rustic log home. Jane chewed on her lower lip as she stared at the house. She never pegged Trip as the earthy type. As he opened his car door, he asked, “Well, what do you think?”

“It’s not what I expected.” Jane looked around as she mounted the wide front steps. The porch was empty. No chairs, no decorations. A single pair of muddy boots next to a welcome mat was the only decoration on the narrow, railing-wrapped structure.

“I bought it about a year ago. It was a mess, that’s how I got it so cheap. At first I wasn’t crazy about the cabin style, but it’s grown on me. You’ll have to see it in the spring. Once the trees are in full foliage, the place kind of blends in. It’s very peaceful; very relaxing.” Trip unlocked the front door as he explained, “Tres, he’s a contractor and an amateur carpenter extraordinaire—well, you saw his house—he does good work. He did the tough stuff. Surprised me with a livable home when I got back from training. I still have all of the upstairs to finish, but I’ll get to it eventually.”

“I guess I’m shocked that you don’t live inside the city,” Jane said quietly. Woods on every side unnerved her a little. Like a bear was going to wander out of the trees and eat her.

“Ha,” Trip said as he swung the door open. “I grew up on a farm—well, sort of a farm. It was in the country. No neighbors, no traffic to break up the peace. Mom’s place in the city? That’s where I was staying, but I hated it. I feel confined there.” He spread his arms to the open space around the house. “This is where I can breathe.”

“I have lived in one city or another my whole life. This is new to me.” Jane took slow steps toward the door. “This much space, so close to the city. It must have cost you a fortune.”

Trip shrugged. “Like I said, it was in horrible shape. And it’s small. Downstairs is a small living room, a den…which is supposed to be a bedroom, and the kitchen. Upstairs is really just an unfinished attic, but I’m going to make it into a master suite…someday.”

Jane grinned. He seemed so proud. That kind of pride couldn’t be faked, so even if this place didn’t seem to fit his personality, it had to be his. The crazy notion that this could be a ruse house, or a front for him to operate from, was completely ridiculous. She smiled up at him as she ordered her mind to relax.

Two steps beyond the foyer and her smile froze, then disappeared. She stood, paralyzed in the living room. It was decorated to near showroom perfection, nothing personal, save for the feminine touches in the paintings that hung on the walls and the flowers on the tables. Jane felt her heart begin to pound, then pound harder…and harder.

All of Sasha’s warning bells rang in her head. Someone else decorated this place. No man thinks of table runners and fresh flowers. She ruled out Olivia. Olivia’s taste ran to the modern. Straight lines and faceless statues were her style. Maybe he had another woman in his life? For all she knew, he could have several. That was a possibility; one that made more sense than him being a spy. But the possibility of him having an ulterior motive couldn’t be ignored. Maybe meeting her wasn’t an accident? Maybe he knew who she was and was playing with her?

Jane backed up instinctively, bumping into Trip as she moved toward the door. He stopped her, wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. His hands stroked her forearms. “What do you think? You like it?”

No dog. No dog met them at the door. Maybe Eve was a borrowed dog used to get close to her? One more look around the formal room made her throat dry. “You know…I really shouldn’t have left Sasha with all the work.”

Trip turned her around to face him. “Seriously?”

Jane nodded, her stomach clenched. She felt like she might faint. Sasha was right. His whole persona could be a sham. His home? His family? Even his cute little damn dog. All decoys. Her suspicions took on a life of their own as she imagined him being paid to target her. Paid to get to know her. He was out to trap her—to get close enough to her for information on her family.

It was a spy who killed her father. Demetry made himself part of their family—fooling them all for years. He sat at their dinner table, shared the personal side of their lives, as well as the family business. Her father trusted him enough to make him Jane’s head of security when she went to Oxford. They trusted him.

Well, until they caught him sneaking information to the KGB. When her father confronted him, they argued. It was a loud, roof raising argument that grabbed Jane’s attention. She followed the sounds of men screaming, stepping into the office just as Demetry pulled a revolver from his jacket and fired on her father.

Jane squeezed her eyes closed, trying to block the memory of her father’s body jerking, arms flailing backward as the bullet slammed into his chest. Fearing he’d fire again, Jane leaped at Demetry, knocking him off kilter, and the two of them tumbled backward, crashing through the picture window in her father’s office. Demetry crushed her body to his chest so tightly she thought he might suffocate her. Glass showered down on them as they hit the ground. She stood, her legs a little wobbly. She tried to run back to the house, but without warning, everything went dark.

Jane never saw her father or her home again.

When she woke, she was on a train, sneaking out of Russia with Sasha. Sasha explained she was wanted for Demetry’s murder by the KGB and Interpol. No one would care that she was defending her father, who died of his bullet wounds. All anyone would care about was that a good KGB agent was dead. And the daughter of a notorious crime boss was to blame.

That was the beginning of this nightmare. One that, if she wasn’t careful, would end with her dying in a Gulag. And Sasha too.

Would Trip do that to her? She could hardly believe that, but then there was a time in her life when she would have made a confident bet that Demetry would have died to protect her. She learned betrayal could hurt as much as any other loss. Hot tears filled her eyes, and her nose started to tingle. She couldn’t cry! How would she explain why she was ready to break into tears? She had to think fast. But she couldn’t. Nothing…not a single lie or excuse came to her spinning mind. Then a tear spilled down her cheek.

“Hey…” Trip wiped away the tear and pulled her close. “What is it? This isn’t about Sasha. Is it something in the house? Tell me, I’ll change it. Hell, I didn’t do any of it, so it wouldn’t break my heart to undo whatever bugs you.”

Jane pulled back until she could see into his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he kissed her forehead, “my mother and Jenna decorated the place. I just left them the key and some money, and they did the work. It’s funny because Mom and Jen are total opposites, so my house has this kind of schizophrenic feel to it.” Trip shook his head and indicated to the room around them with his hand. “Like in here, there are my mother’s antiques and the useless crap on the tables. And then the room Jenna did—she’s responsible for the den—is totally different. Though neither are really my taste. Shall I show you?”

Jane nodded and followed. His mother. Of course it was his mother. Paranoia was driving her insane.

The den had a big stone fireplace, soft leather furniture with hand stitched quilts suspended from the walls. The rugs that covered the hardwood floor were plush and colorful. The room felt comfortable, livable. It was very homey, just like the house they had visited over the weekend. It was the kind of place where a person could snuggle on the couch, eat some popcorn, and watch movies all day.

Jane was drawn to the large oil painting over the fireplace. The picture was of a sunny day on the beach, the blue of the waves was so real. Jane imagined if she touched it, her fingertips would get wet. The sun danced off the sparkling surf as it splashed up the beach. A man was swinging a little boy, while another little guy waited, arms outstretched for a turn. Jane smiled and turned to Trip. “This is beautiful.”

“Jenna did it. She’s an artist.”

“She mentioned that…though how she does it with the kids is a miracle…busy lady.” Jane turned again to the painting. “She’s good. It looks like a snapshot.”

“I guess in a way it is. Don’t you recognize the studly man in the painting?”

Jane did, but she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. “Hmm…your brother?”

“Ah come on, they both have dark hair….”

Jane stepped closer and squinted her eyes as if studying the painting. “Oh yes! I know that handsome guy!”

Trip’s smile was smug.

“That’s my buddy, Sammy, and that must be little Chas. Now that hot guy…is he a lifeguard? Can you introduce me?”

Trip let out a growl. “You are rotten.”

“No, not me,” Jane laughed.

Trip took a step closer, hooking his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans. His face was so close to hers, his nose grazed hers. “You are something else.” He spoke the words against her lips.

“Hmm,” was the only word she could manage as her feet moved toward him closing the gap between them. When he kissed her, nothing else in the world mattered. As he pulled away, his thumb caressed the soft skin of her hip. “I’ve wanted you all to myself for so long. It feels good, doesn’t it? To have no one here but you and me.”

Jane’s cheeks felt warm. Her throat went dry. Prying herself from his arms, she walked away. Looking around the room, she looked for some sign of a dog. A bed, a toy…hair on the couch…anything. The place was spotless. He probably thought she was a fool. She’d been on edge since she came here—ready to bolt through every door. She turned and looked into his eyes. His warm gaze held nothing but concern.

“Something wrong?” Trip asked.

“I’m sorry, Trip. I’m just nervous. I have never done this.”

“Done what?”

Jane walked slowly to the window, not able to look at him and speak without stammering. The skies were darkening as a winter wind blew in and bent the branches on the trees. Taking a deep breath, she explained, “I’ve never dated. My father was very protective, and at school I had Demetry.” She nearly choked on his name; it felt foul on her tongue.

“Demetry? Was he a boyfriend?”

“No! No, nothing like that.” Jane stepped away from the window as she explained, “He was my bodyguard. And he was scary. You’d have not asked me on a date. He was a big man,” she said, raising her arm above her head, then spread them wide to show how tall and broad her once beloved care-taker had been. “And he wasn’t just huge; he had a long scar that went from his eye to his chin. He was a scary man.”

“Good thing you lost him before coming to the states. I was intimidated enough. I didn’t need a brute Russian to make me even more nervous. Thank God for Evie. If it weren’t for her, I’d have never found the courage.”

A-ha, Eve
was
his bridge to her. Jane asked, her brow cocked a little, “Where is Eve?”

“Getting spayed. Vet is going to keep her overnight. The place is lonely without her…but fortunately, I have you to keep me company.”

Jane stepped closer, and like magnet to steel, he pulled her in the rest of the way.

“She take her blanket with her? She loved that ratty old thing while she stayed with me.”

“Yeah, I made them let her keep it. I’m sure the lady at the vet thought I was nuts.” Trip turned and opened the bottom door on television stand. “Check it out.” Dog toys spilled out on the floor. Evidently Trip had
cleaned
by stuffing the cabinet with all the dog stuff, the sport’s magazines, and even a few pairs of rolled up dirty socks. Trip shoved everything back in the cabinet—everything but a huge raw hide dog bone. He handed the two-pound monstrosity to Jane and grinned. “I got her this for when she comes home. Whaddya think?”

Jane laughed. “I don’t even think she’ll be able to lift it.”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “That’s what I thought.” Trip took it and leaned it against the cabinet. “Poor girl. She deserves something. Leave her for six months, come home and send her away to get cut up. I don’t want her to hate me.”

Jane squeezed his arm. “She loves you. She is a lucky dog.”

“She might be. Ever since I found her, she has brought me nothing but luck.”

Jane gave him a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest. She couldn’t believe she doubted him. Stress-induced insanity…that had to be the cause. He was everything she ever dreamed he was. All of her suspicions and fears were wiped away, replaced by her need to be more than his friend.

She was going to do
it
. The thought passed through her mind as the most commonsensical, unsophisticated thought. As large, firm hands circled her waist, the heat from his body seeped into hers and she realized she had everything she needed to be content within her grasp. He pulled her closer; making her wonder if he could read her mind.

She kissed him—a bold kiss that made his heart race against the palm of her hand.