Showdown at Lizard Rock (5 page)

“You’d better have a cup of coffee,” she said. “It’s made from spring water. I promise it will calm you down. Grand for the nerves. How did you sleep?”

Kaylyn’s plan to remain calm had evaporated the moment she allowed herself to look directly at King Vandergriff. Dammit, she thought, why did he have to resemble Robert Redford and William Hurt rolled into one? He must have a closet full of custom-tailored jeans and Western shirts.

But this morning he was wearing running shoes instead of those alligator boots. He planted his feet apart, and she realized that the confrontation over Pretty Springs was rapidly turning into a personal standoff between the two of them. That wasn’t what she wanted. It was the project she was interested in—not the man.

Behind them, machines rumbled into life. King stepped toward her again, then stopped.

“What exactly are you doing, Ms. Smith?” He took another step forward, backing her up against the rock near her cooking table. “Is it me you’re challenging?”

“No! I mean, yes. I suppose.” His directness caught her off-guard. She swallowed hard and licked her upper lip, staring at his clean-shaven face as if she hadn’t spent half the night seeing it in her dreams.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s deal with the problem. The springs are mine, and you want them, right?”

“Uh … yes. That’s about it. I mean, not me, personally. I just want to make certain that they’re not destroyed.”

She was wearing a bra beneath her tank top, he
noted, but his gaze still kept straying to the rise and fall of her breasts. He could tell that she didn’t like his getting too close to her. Cornering her would be a mistake. She didn’t give an inch as he glared at her. He’d have to hand it to her. She was tough.

“Ms. Smith … Kaylyn, I realize that you think you’re doing the right thing, but this isn’t going to work. This project is important to me and my company. My brothers and I have worked for a long time to develop it. And even if I wanted to, there is nothing I can do to protect the springs. The Golf and Tennis Club and the retirement community around it will be good for your town. Don’t you understand what it means?”

“I do understand, but you can build your project someplace else. Pretty Springs and Lizard Rock have been here for over two hundred thousand years, and there’s no way I’m going to let you destroy them.”

“You can’t stop me, Kaylyn.” He was so close to her, he could feel the warmth of her breath on his neck. “The law is on my side.”

“Maybe, but as you said yesterday, possession is nine tenths of the law, and right now I’m in possession.”

“Why is this place so important to you? Tell the truth.”

“I’m human being, King Vandergriff, and I care about all the people who benefit from these waters. Is that so hard for you to understand?”

She was human, all right, he thought. He could see her full breasts heaving in her anger. He wanted to feel her against him, feel her nipples harden and rub against his bare chest as they had the previous day. He wanted to cup her bottom in his hands and pull her tight against his body.

He took a long look at the rocky circle around the springs, then returned his gaze to the woman still holding the coffee cup she’d offered him. He could have her evicted again, end up back on the news, and eventually in court. But sometime in the dawn hours he’d decided that drawing attention to any of her protests would be playing into her hands. No, there had to be another way.

“All right, Kaylyn.” He reached out and took the cup from her, then placed it on the folding metal table. “You’re obviously trying to get to me. You’re in possession of my springs. Fine. You can stay. But there’re some rules of occupation.”

“Rules?” What was the man up to? she wondered. The way he was looking at her was unsettling. He’d said she could stay. That’s what she intended, but there was an intense determination about him, an intenseness she didn’t like. “What rules?”

“First you wear more clothes.”

“What?”

“It’s hard enough for me to keep my men working without this kind of distraction.”

“That’s your problem, sport. What I wear is my own business. These clothes are perfectly conservative.”

“All right, lady, but I think you ought to know that every one of these men is married and has a family. If they lose their jobs because they hang around here gawking at you, you’re going to be responsible for some of those human beings you care so much about going hungry.”

“Are you sure it’s the men you’re worried about?” She pursed her lips and hoped like hell that he was as affected by her closeness as she was by his.

He was. She’d gone too far this time. When he
reached out and grazed one of her breasts with his fingers, she gasped and felt her nipple react automatically to his touch.

“Oh, yes,” he said, “it’s the men I’m worried about. And I’m very much a man, too, Kaylyn Smith, a man who responds to a sensual woman.”

He reached out again, and before she was aware of what was happening, she was in his arms and being kissed. For one glorious moment she gave in to the wild renegade who was assaulting her body and her senses. Then she jerked herself free, shoving him back with all her strength.

“Get away from me, you … you heathen, and get away from my springs. You’re not going to destroy them. I’ll stay here till hell freezes over, if that’s what it takes to force you to change your mind.”

King stepped back, his body protesting, his mind racing with frustration at his inability to focus on the issues. Where the springs were concerned, this woman was absolutely undaunted. He could understand that. His project was as important to him. The law was on his side, and ultimately he would win. But the woman … she was another thing entirely. She made him lose control, and that had just stopped being funny.

Yet there was something right about the feel of her in his arms. He’d known that yesterday. They were built for each other. He was six-feet-five, and she must be at least six feet herself. There was nothing petite about her, but she was trim, and he had felt the evidence of physical exercise in the taut muscles of her long legs and slender arms. From the top of her blond hair to her narrow feet, she was a throwback to some Viking princess. And his body was stiffening with the need to have her.

“I’ll stay away from you, Ms. Smith,” he said. “Enjoy your occupation of the springs. But it won’t be long before you’re going to see the error of your ways.”

“Don’t make threats.”

“You’re welcome to stay. If you intend to camp here, the camping fee is three dollars a night. Or, I’ll give you a special weekly rate.”

“You’re letting me stay, and you’re going to charge me to do it? Now just a minute, King Vandergriff. This isn’t fun time here. This is serious business.” She forgot her fear and stepped closer, intent on making her point. “I insist that you respect my protest and consider my conditions for surrender.”

“Ah, darlin’, the only surrender I’m interested in discussing with you is a personal one. I think I’m going to have to kiss you again.”

“No, please don’t. You can’t keep kissing me every time I try to state my position. You can’t—”

He could and he did, and she decided about halfway into the second kiss that she might need a mediator for these negotiations.

“Is this where I’m supposed to be?”

Kaylyn pulled away, embarrassed by the sound of a familiar voice behind them.

“Dammit, Harold, what are you doing here?” King dropped his arms and took several deep breaths. Trying to conceal the evidence of his need for Kaylyn was nearly impossible.

“You told me to come,” Harold said plaintively. “You said you’d give me a job. Remember? Hello, Katie. I’m glad they didn’t put you away. Did King break you out too?”

“You got Harold out of jail?” she asked. She was
having a hard time comprehending the town drunk being part of King’s work crew.

“It didn’t seem fair,” King said to her, “to let you go to prison and leave him to grieve alone. Come on, Harold, let’s find you something to do to earn your keep. Do you think you can work the coffeepot? We have a supply of
good
water over at the construction trailer.”

“Fine,” Kaylyn said. “Brew him up a pot, Harold. But I’d use the spring water if I were you. It contains lithium, a very calming mineral. And your new boss badly needs to be calmed down. He’s”—she lowered her gaze—“he’s a very emotional man.”

King smiled. “Don’t think your spring water will help, Katie, darlin’. After all, you’ve been drinking it all along and it hasn’t stopped you from getting excited.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there are some needs that can’t be tranquilized. Sooner or later they erupt into … well, you figure it out.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Kaylyn wondering whether she’d won or lost their latest battle.

By nightfall she knew that this time even her springs had let her down. Nothing could calm the desire she’d felt when King had kissed her. And throughout the day, in spite of her efforts to control her thoughts, she fantasized several different versions of the eruption he’d predicted. King was the key figure in every one of them.

“Somehow, Katie, I think there must be a better way to do this,” Sandi Arnold said. She was unloading placards and signs made by the nursing-home residents. Kaylyn stood beside the van, gathering the protest materials in her arms. The large, deep pool that was Pretty Springs glimmered nearby under the light of a half-moon.

“I wish you’d tell me if there is,” Kaylyn said. “I can’t give up now, San. I know I’m getting to him.” She reached down to scratch the rash on her ankle, realized what she was doing, and stopped herself. The rash reminded her of everything that had happened with King Vandergriff.

Sandi followed her actions with puzzled eyes. “What’s that?”

“Poison ivy, from my little trek up the rock.”

“Well, it’s good to know that you
do
have the same weaknesses as the rest of us mere mortals.” Sandi nodded toward the huge blue-and-white travel trailer
parked on the far side of the springs. “When did Vandergriff move into the rolling Taj Mahal?”

“Last night.” Kaylyn glanced at the magnificent trailer King had set up. It was too close, and it made her uncomfortable. Of course, that was what King had intended. Its presence was a smug, subtle reminder that he was going to provoke her at every turn. “He’s hired Harold to be his chief cook and bottle washer. Harold’s in heaven. He tells me the trailer is fantastic. It’s even air-conditioned.”

“Well, I don’t know how long you intend on camping out here at the springs,” Sandi said, “but there’s a cold front heading this way, and that means rain.”

Kaylyn looked up at the deceptively clear night sky. “I can deal with that,” she said without much enthusiasm.

“Also, before I forget to tell you, you got a call from Tom Brolin, something about a new project for feeding some homeless men. And the Animal Shelter called about a donkey.”

Kaylyn sighed. This might be one time when she really was guilty of having too many irons in the fire. Possession might be nine tenths of the law, but none of that mattered if your possession didn’t have any effect on the person you were trying to irritate. Sandi was willing to fill in for her at the nursing home for now, but Sandi had her own duties as physical therapist. Sooner or later the occupation of the springs would have to come to an end, whether Kaylyn wanted it to or not. Unless …

“Sandi. What did you say about feeding the homeless?”

“I don’t know. I’m just passing on Tom’s message. He said you’d mentioned trying to put together a
kind of soup kitchen for some unemployed people, and he has the food if you can find a place to do it.… Now, Katie, what are you thinking? Don’t get that look in your eyes.”

“Why not? It’s perfect, Sandi! You and Tom can load up those men and bring them out here. I’ll cook for them, and they’ll get a meal and a bath.”

“A bath? In that icy water? Yuck! It really is too bad that the water isn’t hot.”

“I know. I’ve had the same thought, but it won’t matter, because the weather is warm enough. Go through those clothes bags at the home and see what you can find that’s usable. We’ll distribute food and clean clothes and ask them to walk my picket line in return. That will call attention to both our needs.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Katie. I have the feeling that you’re asking for trouble from your landlord.”

Kaylyn noted grimly that Sandi, who was usually ready to fall in with any plan Kaylyn concocted, seemed reluctant to cross swords with King Vandergriff. Well, Sandi wouldn’t have to. Kaylyn would do it.

“Thanks for bringing out the food, Sandi. Do you think you could man the sit-in spot for a few minutes while I go and phone Tom?”

“Don’t leave me here all alone!” Sandi pushed her blond-white hair behind the sweatband around her head and tugged up the sagging waistband of her running pants. “I’m a chickenhearted protestor. I was twenty-nine my last birthday, and I’m getting too old for your escapades.”

“So heist yourself a wheelchair from the center. I’ll
be right back. My … er, neighbor has a phone right in his trailer, and I’m personal friends with his houseboy.”

“You mean Harold? I still don’t believe that.”

“I mean Harold.” Kaylyn jumped across the smaller rocks that surrounded the spring and headed for the gleaming trailer. At the door she paused for a moment, then knocked.

“Harold? It’s Kaylyn. Are you there?”

The door swung open, and the sound of folk music drifted into the night. “Hello, Ms. Smith. What can I do for you?”

“Harold? Is that you?” Harold had shaved, gotten a haircut, and was wearing a short-sleeved cotton jumpsuit that make him look like a new man.

“Yes, indeedy. What can I do for you?”

“I need to use your phone and to ask you if you’ll help Sandi finish unloading the supplies from the van.”

“Sure thing!” Harold hurried out to give Sandi a hand.

Kaylyn stepped inside the trailer and gasped. This was no dirty little construction-site trailer. This was a sultan’s tent on wheels. Covering the floor was dark red carpet so thick that she felt her feet sink into it. Black leather furniture surrounded a glass-and-ebony coffee table. Beyond a black-and-chrome breakfast bar she could see European red-lacquer cabinets and black-tiled counters.