JAKrentz - Witchcraft (14 page)

There was still too much that lay unsettled between them. The talk with the lawyer in L.A. had made that clear.
Cavenaugh
suspected that Kimberly merely assumed he was staying away from her bed out of a sense of gentlemanly behavior. He had allowed her to believe that, because he hadn't yet figured out how to tell her there was much more involved. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his hands off her. Soon, he promised himself, he would have it all sorted out and Kimberly would be free of her past. He was letting himself speculate on the future when Starke moved quietly up beside him. "She's doing all right," Starke observed, his gaze on Kimberly. "Especially for someone who's accustomed to being a loner.'
Cavenaugh
agreed. Starke shrugged. "Everyone's alone in some ways."

"Why is it you always get philosophical after a couple of whiskies, Starke?"

"Brings out the intellectual side of my nature."

"She's good for you, Dare. I like her."
Cavenaugh's
mouth twisted faintly. "Knowing how selective you are about people, that's saying something. As it happens, I agree with you." Starke's eyes were on Kimberly. "So when are you going to get this other thing out of the way so you'll be free to stop playing games?"

"I've arranged the meeting for the day after tomorrow. "On neutral grounds?"
Cavenaugh
nodded. "The lobby of a San Francisco hotel."

"You're sure this is the right way to go about it?"

"You got a better idea?"
Cavenaugh
challenged grimly.

Starke sighed. "No."

"I want her free of the past, Starke. The only way to do that is to confront it. Besides, they'll hound her until they get to her. They're desperate. Better to arrange the meeting on our terms rather than theirs."

"You're just going to spring the whole thing on Kim?"

"She'll never agree to a meeting with her grandparents."

"I don't know, Dare. Women don't like surprises."

"Kim will understand why I did it. When it's all over she'll see it was the only way." Across the room Kim managed to excuse herself from the cluster of people around her and drifted out onto the patio. It was nippy out there, but after the crowded, overheated environment of the party it was a relief to her.

She was experiencing that trapped sensation again. There was no doubt about what people were thinking when they looked at her. They were seeing her as the new
Cavenaugh
bride, and none of the
Cavenaughs
was doing anything to discourage the assumption. Not even Darius
Cavenaugh
.

What was going on in his head tonight, Kimberly wondered as she walked to the edge of the patio. There were times when she thought she could tell exactly what he was thinking. But there were other occasions when he remained unfathomable. He hadn't been back to her room since that one night they had spent together. For the hundredth time Kimberly considered that fact. Was he truly playing the gentleman or was there more to it? Perhaps he hadn't found her as physically satisfying as she had found him. Kimberly's fingers closed tightly around an awning pole and she stood looking out in the darkness. Before her was a section of shadowy garden, and beyond that the rock wall she had been forbidden to pass. In the distance the building that held the fermentation tanks loomed in the darkness. The acres of grapes stretched out on all sides, gliding over gentle hills beneath a pale moon. It was a lovely, prosperous, peaceful setting. Kimberly wondered how it differed from the kind of lifestyle
Cavenaugh
had lived before he had returned home.

"Isn't it a little cold out here, Kim?" She whirled at the sound of Starke's familiar, gravelly voice and smiled at him. She had decided she liked this strange, aloof man, even though she couldn't quite figure him out. "I needed some fresh air. I'll come back inside in a few minutes," she told him. "Having a good time, Starke?"

"I'm not much for cocktail parties," he murmured blandly. "Neither am I. Is
Cavenaugh
?"

"There's a lot you don't know about him yet, isn't there?" Surprised by the question, Kimberly shook her head. "Sometimes I think I know him.

Other .... " She let the sentence drift off into the darkness. "He feels the same way about you, I think. Human nature." Kimberly slid him an amused glance. "You're a student of human nature?" Starke held up the glass in his hand. "It's the whiskey. Brings out my intellectual qualities, as I was just explaining to
Cavenaugh
."

"Fascinating. What other observations have you got on the subject?"

"Of you and
Cavenaugh
?

Just the obvious, I guess."

"Which is?"

"That you're right for each other," Starke explained. "He needs you, Kim."

"I don't know, Starke," she replied gently. "He has so many other things and people in his life--the winery, his duty to his family. So much. Why would he need me?"

"You can keep those things from taking over his whole life. You can give him a separate world where he can relax and be alone with someone who puts him first." She stirred uneasily. "Maybe that's what I want, too, Starke. Someone who can put me first in his life."

"You don't think
Cavenaugh
can do that?"

"How can any man in his position do that?" she asked helplessly. "You still don't know him very well. Give him a chance, Kim. And-" Starke hesitated and then finished bluntly "-try not to be too hard on him on the occasions when you don't understand him completely. He's only a man." Kim's lips lifted in a teasing smile. "So are you. Are you sure you're qualified to explain the species to me?" Starke took a long swallow of whiskey. "Probably not, but I guess I felt obliged to try." Instantly Kim softened.

"You're very loyal to
Cavenaugh
, aren't you?"

"He saved my life a long time ago. Later on I was able to return the favor. That sort of thing builds a certain bond between two people."

"How did he save your life?"

Kim demanded with a slight frown. "It's not important now," Starke said, shifting with an uneasiness that told Kim it was a subject he wished he hadn't brought up for discussion. "I had gotten myself into a messy situation in the Middle East. I was trying to make contact with someone and got caught in the middle of a riot.
Cavenaugh
had also gotten trapped on the street. All hell broke out and, being the nearest Americans in the vicinity, we got mistaken for devils by the local crowd. I found myself up against a wall, literally. And then Dare arrived. He knew someone in the neighborhood with whom he'd done business. That association gave him enough clout to get me free from the mob. By the time everyone figured out that his connections shouldn't be allowed to stand in the way of a little mob vengeance, we were clear. Dare used his contacts to pull some strings and got us both out of the country about two steps ahead of the full-scale war that broke out a day later." Kimberly drew a deep breath. "I had no idea the import-export business could be so, uh, volatile."

"It had its moments," Starke reflected, lifting his glass again. He stared into the whiskey for a few seconds, as if seeing something Kimberly couldn't.

"Especially the way Dare ran things." Kimberly couldn't be sure she'd heard those last few words. Her voice sharpened. "When did you save his life, Starke?" It occurred to her that there was more to this man than met the eye. His laconic speech and quiet mannerisms belied the harshness of his appearance. He looked at her and blinked owlishly.

"There was a knife fight in some alley in Hong Kong. Dare was trying to deal with three punks who had waylaid him outside his hotel. I was on my way to see him and found it all going down in the alley a block from the hotel. I'm pretty good with a knife," Starke explained blandly.

Kimberly shivered. "Oh." Starke's brows bunched tog ether in a heavy line. "Promise me you won't tell Dare I told you all this, okay? He'd have my head if he thought I was out here scaring you to death with those kind of stories."

"Why are you scaring me to death with those tales, Starke?" Kimberly asked perceptively. "I guess I just want you to understand that there's a lot more to Dare than may seem obvious by looking at
Cavenaugh
Vineyards."

"I know that, Starke," Kimberly said gently. Starke looked suddenly relieved. "Sure you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't love him, would you?" Kimberly recoiled, a protest rising automatically to her lips. Her love was still a private, personal matter at this point. She had not dreamed that others knew of it. But before she could find the words to make Starke understand that it was much too soon to make such statements' he was slipping out of his jacket and handing it to her. "Here," he said gruffly. "If you're going to stay out here awhile, you'd better put this on." Then he turned and strode back into the house. With a sigh, Kimberly walked off the patio and into the garden. She really didn't want to go back into the house just yet. The thought of all those people looking at her, speculating on her relationship with
Cavenaugh
, perhaps coming to the same conclusion Starke had, was suddenly overwhelming. She needed some time alone. Not that she would be able to stay out here very long. Julia, Aunt
Milly
, Ariel, Mrs. Lawson or even
Cavenaugh
or Starke was likely to miss her and start looking for her. So many people who would concern themselves over her. She wasn't accustomed to it. Kimberly glanced up as she wandered into the garden. The light in Scott's room was finally turned off. He had been sent to bed a couple of hours ago, but only under protest. It had been his future father, Mark, who had taken on the task of putting Scott to bed. Kimberly had seen the warmth in Julia's eyes as she watched her
france
handle the boy. At the edge of the garden Kimberly came to a halt again and stood staring at the dark winery facility several yards beyond the rock wall. A few outside lights illuminated the beautiful grounds in front of the building where tourists gathered during the days. The rear of the large structure was shrouded in darkness. This was as far as she ought to go. In another few feet she would be crossing the low, rambling rock wall. Doing that would set off the alarms, which in turn would certainly put a damper on the
Cavenaugh
party tonight, she thought humorously. Aunt
Milly
and Ariel would never forgive her. That was assuming, of course, that Starke hadn't had a little too much whiskey tonight and was able to realize an alarm had been triggered. As for
Cavenaugh's
reaction, he was more likely to turn her over his knee than make love to her if she pulled that stunt again. Once was forgivable. Disobeying orders a second time probably wouldn't go down well with the lord and master of
Cavenaugh
Vineyards. With a wry smile at the thought, Kimberly reluctantly turned to walk back up through the garden to the patio and into the noisy, well-lit house. The statue-still figure in a
cowled
robe was waiting for her, blocking the path through the garden. Kimberly was so stunned by the dark apparition that for a timeless moment she couldn't even scream.

Frozen in the moonlight the two stared at each other and then the robed figure raised both hands, revealing the ornate silver dagger he held.

Kimberly did scream then but it was the kind of scream one had in a nightmare, a choked soundless cry that reached no one. Fear stifled the first attempt and before she could make another, the
cowled
creature took a menacing step forward. Kimberly got the scream past her lips this time but even as it echoed through the night she told herself that no one would hear it over the noise of the party. She was at the rear of the garden, much too far from the safety of the house. The dagger flashed in the watery moonlight and the movement freed her. She picked up the skirts of her silk gown and began to run, attempting to dodge around the hooded threat that stood so obscenely in the beautiful garden. The creature in the robe shifted position, easily blocking her path. He held the advantage. There was no way she could get past him and back to the house. When he moved toward her again, Kimberly did the only thing she could do; she fled out of the garden toward the low rock wall. Risking a glance over her shoulder she saw the
cowled
figure pursuing. He seemed to be having some trouble managing the bulky skirts of his robe. Silver from the wicked blade of the dagger flashed in the darkness and memories of Ariel's card reading chilled Kimberly even more than she already was. As she ran Starke's jacket slipped from her shoulders. It landed on the rambling rock wall as Kimberly scrambled over the top. Her only hope was that the discreet alarms in the house had been triggered and that Starke would not be too deep into his whiskey to know it. Panicked, Kimberly fled for her life toward the only possible protection she could imagine, the winery building. If she could reach it far enough ahead of her pursuer perhaps she would be able to get inside and lock a door behind her. The turquoise sandals proved treacherous on the sandy path that led through the vineyards. Several times she stumbled and nearly fell, but sheer blind fear drove her on toward the looming building. The
cowled
figure seemed to be having more trouble running than she was in the heavy robes he wore, and that gave Kimberly hope. Perhaps the flowing garment would hinder his movements enough so that she could get inside the building before he did. Once inside there were phones she could use to call the main house. She had seen them several days earlier when
Cavenaugh
had taken her on a tour of the production facilities. Her breath was like fire in her lungs as she fled toward the rear entrance of the building. Behind her she could hear the crunch of pursuing footsteps. For some insane reason the menacing sound came almost as a relief. Surely only a real human being would make such a sound as he ran. At least she was not being pursued by a specter. Out here alone in the darkness it would've been easy to believe she was dealing with a supernatural threat. Gasping for breath, her heart thudding from fear and exertion, Kimberly slammed to a halt in front of the door at the rear of the building. She didn't even hesitate. She'd decided what she would do while she was still several yards away. Whipping off one of the turquoise sandals, Kimberly shattered the door's window. She had her hand inside, reaching to unlock it before the glass had even struck the floor. A lacerating pain sliced into her arm but she ignored it. The door opened and she was inside, slamming it shut behind her. In the hall all was in darkness.