My Little Runaway (Destiny Bay) (6 page)

She’d been tempted then. But she’d fought it. So she’d left, found her way to San Francisco, and a few years later to Los Angeles, all by herself, and hardly even cried over him.

Look
, she’d told herself proudly,
I’m over him. No more knife blade applied to the heartstrings. No more mooning over something you can’t have. It’s over
.
 

A new life would begin, and Reid Carrington could join her parents in the closed scrapbook of her childhood.

It had taken some time, but in the end she’d been just fine. It had seemed so easy. She’d hardly given him a second thought for years. Now Reid had walked back into her heart as casually as a summer breeze, and here she was, a hopeless wreck again.

Enough. She refused to do it. She refused to let the guilt build again, to let the longings surface. Her parents were better off without her, and so was Reid, if only he knew it. Jennifer Thornton could only bring heartbreak to the people she loved best. It had always been that way.
 

Why couldn’t they accept it and leave her alone? She’d made herself a new life, and it was a good life. It was all she needed. She wouldn’t let Reid take it away. She flopped down on her ultramodern linen couch with a sense of firm determination.

Whatever else, she must not fall in love with Reid. She’d been that route before, and it led to a very steep drop-off.
 

“
No, thank you
,” she whispered, punching a couch pillow.

What would he want with you, anyway?
she wondered to herself, thinking of all the well-bred, elegantly dressed women she’d seen him with in the past, including the woman he’d been with at the field on the weekend. Reid wanted someone with grace and manners, competence and intelligence.
So what would he want with you?
she asked herself scathingly. You who jump out of airplanes and fall off your shoes? Face it: you’re not his type. You never were. Forget him.

Now, that was a good idea. It was time for some changes around here. Forget him and get back to life as we know it in—well, not the fast lane; actually, more like the median strip.

The first thing to do was change the ambience. She bounced to the player and pulled Billie Holiday out.
 

“Lady, you may sing your blues somewhere else,” she stated grandly. “What I need is some good-time music.” She found an old Journey CD, put it on the player, and turned up the volume.
 

Amazing how quickly it began to work! She felt better already just listening to the rhythmic music. “Those summer nights,” she hummed as she swept through the room, pulling the chin-to-waist zipper of her caftan open as she started to peel it away. The crashing chimes of her apartment doorbell stopped her in her tracks.

Great! Eddie and Martha and the gang had said they might stop by after taking in an early film. She’d hemmed and hawed at the time, thinking she’d be too miserable for company, but now she was ready. The apartment security guard must have let them up, knowing them as well as he did. The timing was perfect.

“Hi, Martha, Eddie, and the rest of you. I’m unlocking the door,” she called above the booming sound of the electric guitar that filled the room. “But give me a second to get back to my bedroom, okay? I’m in the middle of dressing.”

“Stone in love,” she sang at the top of her lungs as she disappeared into her bedroom, not bothering to close the door, since she could stay out of sight of the living room by dressing in front of her wall-to-wall closet. The front door closed with a bang, but she hardly noticed. She threw her caftan across her bed, then started digging for a fresh set of underwear from her drawer before turning to the closet to search out a light sweater and slacks. Her friends might want to go out for a late snack, and she wanted to be ready for anything.

“Ready for anything, that’s me,” she hummed to herself, reaching through the clothes on hangers.

Anything, that is, except for what actually happened next.

“You’ve always been the soul of informality, Jennifer, but don’t you think this is carrying things a little far?”

She whirled at the first sound of Reid’s voice, knowing she was dressed only in her lacy pale blue panties and camisole, staring at the tall man who stood in the doorway of her bedroom, unable to move.

“Of course,” he added, nonchalantly leaning against her doorframe, arms folded across his chest, his brilliant gaze raking across her. “I’m open for new experiences. What comes next?”

In a sudden rush of motion she reached down for her caftan and jerked it up and clutched it just below her chin.

“So dramatic, Jennifer,” he teased, his eyes hooded and unreadable. “You’ve got more on than the average person on the beach. Why are you so shy?”

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. This was very different from a public beach, and he knew it.
 

“What are you doing in here?” she hissed at last.

His blue eyes hardened to a steel gray. “Sorry if I’m not the man you were expecting. But when you invite people into your bedroom without checking their identity, you’ve got to be ready for surprises.”

She knew she was trembling, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the cool air on her skin or the cold hand around her heart.
 

“I didn’t invite anyone into my bedroom,” she snapped, eyes flashing.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, no? Perhaps I misunderstood. You said you were unlocking the door, then mumbled something like ‘meet me in the bedroom.’ “

Jennifer had an uncharacteristically angry reply on the tip of her tongue, but suddenly she realized he really believed what he was saying. He thought she’d invited some man in here, and what’s more, he didn’t like the idea. Her anger faded as she watched his face, intrigued.
 

“I said I was going into the bedroom to dress,” she told him. “I wasn’t expecting you to come along.” She blinked at him. “How did you get in, anyway?”

He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I have a way with security guards,” he said easily. “They seem to trust my face.”

She licked her lips. “You—you surprised me.”

He was making her very nervous, the way he stood so still, his eyes taking in everything and making no sign that he was ready to leave her alone. In fact, there was something in the new light that filled his eyes that told her he had no such intention—that he was perhaps about to make up for all those years of his own suppressed longings.

He was dressed in a royal blue turtleneck sweater that hugged the rounded strength of his chest and dark slacks that did the same to his legs. His dark hair fell over his forehead, shading his eyes. “Life is full of little adventures,” he drawled. “Isn’t that what you always used to tell me? Things get dull when you don’t grab hold of opportunities that come your way.”

He took a step toward her, and she took a step back. “My name is not opportunity,” she reminded him quickly. “I don’t need grabbing. Why don’t you just go out into the living room and give me time to dress?”

“Not a chance.”

His voice was low and casual, but she felt the heightening tension in the room. This was different. This was just a little scary. He’d never done anything like this before.
 

What if he had? Would that awful summer when she’d had to leave home have happened? If he’d told her how he felt from the beginning, when they were young, would she have been protected? Maybe he should have, or maybe she should have made him—her thoughts were in a whirl.

He came closer, and she backed up as far as she could, coming up against her bed with the back of her knees. She teetered there, about to fall down across her spread, but his hand captured the back of her head, steadying her, and he held her still while he gazed down into her dark eyes.

“Have I ever kissed you before?” he asked curiously.

He didn’t even remember! It was a moment that had kept her warm on many stormy nights, and he didn’t even remember.

“No,” she lied to him as she stared up into his infinite eyes. “You’ve never kissed me before. And you’re not going to kiss me now.” She tried to twist away, but he held on.

“That’s where you’re wrong” he murmured, holding her closer. “Don’t play at being coy, Jennifer. It doesn’t ring true.”

His eyes were glazed with a look she’d never seen in them before. In fact, he seemed almost a stranger. She’d never expected him to act this way. Was it only because he thought casual lovemaking was normal for her? Or was there another reason? Did he really care? Was there really something between them, something denied too long?

His touch was sure and direct. Her heart was thumping so loudly, it seemed a part of the music from the next room. She felt like a helpless child watching a wave break over her head, knowing there was no way to escape the coming flood. Still, she couldn’t give in without a fight. She steeled herself to avoid his mouth as he came closer.

But he didn’t aim for the kiss she’d expected. Instead, his lips just barely touched the line of her neck, working slowly up, with soft, stroking kisses that brushed her senses alive, to a place behind her ear that sent chills racing through her body. He stopped there, breathing deeply, as though to take in every nuance of her—her warmth, her scent, her texture.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked breathlessly, standing stiffly, hands still holding the caftan to cover the front of her body.

“I’m not thinking at all,” he told her, his voice muffled by her hair. “I’m just doing.”

She felt his free hand on the silky material that covered her back, sliding slowly, inexorably downward, until it found her bottom, fingers spreading to take in every curve. His touch felt so very warm through the cloth, tantalizing on her cool skin, so very seductive, that instead of protesting or trying to pull away, she found herself sighing with pleasure, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

“Please, Reid,” she murmured without much conviction, “please don’t.”

His breath tickled her ear as he turned toward her lips. “I’ll stop if you can give me one good reason why I should,” he told her with husky insolence. “Just one good reason.” And then his mouth covered hers, and the wave broke, crashing around her with all its glory, sweeping her away, out into a sea of tempestuous seduction that she could never resist.

Was there a good reason? If there was, the battering of the wave had knocked it out of her head. She couldn’t think of any sort of convincing defense against the onslaught of his passion. And yet, she wasn’t a totally willing partner to his embrace. She was scared, so scared, even though this felt like a logical culmination of the years and years of longing.

She felt the caftan slipping away, and she reached out to catch it, but her hands sunk instead into the soft cashmere of his sweater and stayed to find the solid man beneath.

His touch was sweet magic on her skin, his hands smoothing away her fears, his tongue creating its own excitement as he explored the warmth of her mouth, coaxing, inviting, inciting her desire. He pulled away the lacy blue camisole, and there was nothing covering her now. Her taut nipples rubbed with exquisite friction against the soft wool of his sweater. Her passion came alive, forcing her to follow its lead as she pressed herself against Reid’s hard body.

It was all right, her mind whispered seductively. This was what she’d dreamt of so many times all those years ago. She had him at last. He wanted her. It was all right. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Little by little, her resistance relaxed, letting her natural instincts take full rein. As his kiss deepened, his hands grasped her buttocks, pulling her hips up hard against his, and she moaned.

She found herself murmuring a protest as he drew away, but it was only to reach down and lift her onto the bed. Snuggling back into the soft covers, she smiled up dreamily as he leaned over her. He pulled his dark sweater up over his head, and she reached with both hands to gather in the heat that rose from his smooth chest.

He turned his attention back to her, dropping his hand to touch first one swelling breast, then the other, then trailed a line of tingling fire down past her navel to the dark heart of her desire, hidden only by a tiny scrap of lacy fabric.

“Oh!” She gasped, and arched beneath his hand, closing her eyes and feeling the heat seep through her thighs, stretching to his touch.

“You are the most beautiful woman.” His voice was husky with emotion. “I hardly dare to touch you, you’re so perfect . . . You always were.”

She didn’t know how to answer him, but she didn’t need to. She could feel the warmth of his feelings for her. He wanted her body, but it was more than that. How much more, only time would tell. She hardly dared think about her dreams and hopes. It was safer just to feel.

She tried to judge from the look in his eyes whether he was teasing her. But he turned away, and then his mouth was closing on the dark peak of her breast, his tongue twisting about the nipple, tempting it even higher, even tighter, until all thoughts of questions died away, and she writhed, ready to scream with the agony of wanting him so.

The music from her stereo was still loud, still hammering away with a contagious beat that seemed to echo the pounding of her blood. His body was hard and smooth and taut with a barely restrained hunger under her hands, and she reached to pull open his belt with a growing sense of impatient urgency.

But before she had drawn the leather fully through the brass buckle, a new sound broke the concentrated noise coming from the living room. Her doorbell was chiming again.

She went very still, eyes opened very wide. Reid slid his leg across her, holding her down.
 

“Ignore it,” he ordered gruffly. “They’ll go away.”

“But if you didn’t lock the door when you came in—“ she began.

“Hey, Jenny, you home?” Eddie’s voice rang clearly through the apartment, rendering the rest of Jennifer’s statement unnecessary.

Reid swore softly but with harsh emphasis, then rolled away from her across the bed. Jennifer scrambled to her feet and reached for her underclothes.