The Rescue Of Jenna West Read online

  “She killed my baby, without even telling me.”

  Chapter 10

  He ran his hands over his face again, looking haggard and grim. “I’ve never told anyone that before. Besides Sam and Mace, I mean.”

  Stunned, she could only stare for a moment, searching for words. A raw ache tore through her body. She wanted to hold him, comfort him, but that seemed such a small, insignificant gesture in the wake of what he’d revealed. “How? Why?”

  For a moment, he looked uncertain, regretful that he’d even mentioned it. He jammed his hands in his pockets and stared fixedly at a point on the floor. “It was after the separation. I didn’t even know she was pregnant and then one day, at the hospital, I heard some nurses talking about it. At first, I just assumed it was Mike’s baby, so I confronted her, wanted to know how long she’d been carrying the...child—” His voice broke. “And that’s when she told me. She didn’t want to start her new life with Mike carrying any baggage from me.”

  “Oh, Linc.” Horrified, Jenna pressed her knuckles to her mouth to keep from crying out at the sheer agony of hearing it. She couldn’t imagine feeling it firsthand. “That day in the bam?”

  “Yes, I’d just found out. When Michelle left, it hurt my ego more than anything else. But learning about the baby...”

  How could a person be so cruel? Jenna could hardly take it in.

  “It was years ago. I guess I should move on.”

  “Don’t!” she cried, reaching for his hand. “Don’t diminish it. You were devastated. You had a right.”

  “Did I?” He looked genuinely uncertain. “I felt betrayed, still do, but it wasn’t as if the child was ripped from my body.”

  “That doesn’t make your grief any less real. Oh, how can you doubt that? It’s real, Linc, just as real as that baby was.”

  “Yes.” He nodded slowly, searching her face as if seeking validation. “But I still always wondered, was it my fault about the baby? Is that why she—”

  “No! You didn’t force her to take an innocent life,” Jenna protested vehemently. Those deep scars echoed in his voice and she ached at the pain he’d endured. “She made the choice to hurt you that way. In a way, what Michelle did to you is exactly what Ramsey did to me.”

  “It’s not the same at all!” Aghast, Linc stared at her, his eyes stormy with disquiet. “Ramsey took your body, your innocence, your trust.”

  “And Michelle took part of you, your trust.”

  Linc shook his head. “I wasn’t comparing, Jenna. I don’t—”

  “Linc.” She laid her hand on his arm. “This is why you seem to understand me so well. You really understand.”

  Now she knew why she shared such an unfathomable connection to him, how he always seemed to know exactly how far to push her, when to retreat.

  Relief flickered through his eyes. “It feels good to tell someone.” His gaze caressed her features. “You. It feels good to tell you. After everything you’ve been through, there’s this part of you that hasn’t been touched, that refuses to be bitter or cynical. You see the best in people, want to help.”

  “You’re talking about me again,” she reminded dryly, uncomfortable with the praise.

  “It’s true.” He hesitated, then looking into her eyes, his hand gently grazed the swell of her right breast.

  Her heartbeat jumped and anticipation shot straight through her. Still, she stiffened.

  He dropped his hand immediately, though his gaze never left hers. “There’s a solid core of steel in you, Jenna West, right there. It can’t be destroyed by anything that Ramsey may do.”

  At the faith, the conviction in his voice, tears stung her eyes. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.”

  “I don’t know why. It’s true.”

  She shook her head and he caught her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “It is.”

  His gaze traced her features, tender affection in his eyes.

  “No matter what happens, you always keep going. You’re more concerned about me than yourself—”

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  “You have every right to lash out at the people around you, yet you don’t.”

  “I did earlier,” she reminded with a grimace.

  “Hush,” he said with a soft fierceness. “You’re concerned about how other people are doing when your whole world has been shaken up. Like Steve’s wedding or your sister’s twins or your patients. Or me. Most people would want everyone’s attention on them.”

  She squirmed, her gaze falling to the hollow in his neck and riveting on the steady tap of his pulse under the skin. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “I don’t mean to, but you are amazing, Jenna.” He lowered his hand, shoved it into his pocket as he shrugged self-consciously. “I just wanted you to know.”

  A stilted silence grew between them. Eager to ease the moment, she grinned. “I think I should keep you around for confidence building.”

  But he didn’t smile, didn’t attempt to make light of what he’d said.

  Helplessly, her gaze rose to his. Drawn in by the heat, the sweet caring in his eyes, Jenna said softly, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”

  “Amazing enough to kiss?” he asked huskily.

  Though slightly surprised, she wanted him and at that moment, she refused to allow herself the thought that she couldn’t have him. “Yes.”

  Pleasure lit his gray eyes. He smiled and bent his head, his lips brushing hers gently.

  She opened to him, aching to feel the rough velvet of his tongue against hers.

  He shifted, his chest pressing against her breasts, one hand sliding gently into her hair. Changing the angle of his head, he deepened the kiss, setting off a firestorm in her blood. Desire, stark and desperate like she’d never felt, ripped through her. She wanted to follow the lure of this tempting fire, explore the heavy throb that began between her legs.

  Her good arm looped around his neck, straining to draw him closer, feel his heat merge with hers. His broad chest cushioned hers. Safe, gentle strength surrounded her and inside a wild, unfamiliar recklessness broke free.

  He drew away briefly, enabling her to take a breath and she followed him, seeking his touch like a bud searching for nourishment from the rain. His lips found hers again, then his tongue slipped inside her mouth, hot and sleek and wet. Lust coiled tightly in her belly, beaded her nipples into sensitive points. On some distant plane, she realized she had never responded to a man like this. Never. And she wasn’t afraid.

  Her senses focused on now, here, Linc. His musky heat webbed around her. His hand glided gently over her cheek, then slid under her hair to cradle her nape. She leaned into him, reaching for more of the energy that flamed through her. She wanted him, wanted to feel his bare skin next to hers, wanted to forget.

  His palm brushed her breast. She froze, her breath wedging painfully in her chest. Desire jumbled with prudence; wariness roared up inside her.

  He waited, his lips on hers, coaxing the resistance out of her body. She wanted to know what his touch would feel like, but the old caution held her back. Still, he didn’t move, but simply waited on her. For her. She relaxed, silently surrendering to him.

  His left arm slanted carefully across her back, drawing her to him so that her injured arm was protected. He kissed her again, teasing her lips with small nibbles, igniting a low throb between her legs. Then his hand squeezed her breast, gently, reverently and her nipple beaded against his palm.

  She couldn’t breathe. She could only exist on a plane of heightened sensation that went beyond desire, beyond reality. Her soul fused to his. Knowing that it was because of shared pain didn’t dim the exhilaration skimming through her.

  A vivid spectrum of color opened up before her and she gave herself over to the taste of him, the weight of his hand on her breast, the quickening thrum of his heartbeat against her.

  Her tongue touched his shyly at first, then with more daring. His arm across her
back tightened and he pulled her into him, the ridge of his desire hard and insistent against her hip. She felt no revulsion, only curiosity and an aching anticipation.

  Then his hand skimmed over her jean-clad hip and slid between her legs. The touch ignited every fear she’d carried since the rape.

  Reflexively she jerked away from him, breathing hard, fighting the horror that rose up in her. This was Linc. He wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want.

  She knew it, yet she couldn’t stop trembling. Blood that had burned only seconds ago now congealed in cold apprehension. “I...can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

  “Jenna, it’s okay.” Linc’s quiet voice shook. “It’s okay.”

  He didn’t reach for her, just tried to calm her with his eyes. Those beautiful eyes that had looked at her with such desire, such gentleness. Now they were reassuring, concerned. Still she glimpsed something sharp behind the concern. Pain. Pain she’d inflicted.

  Regret swelled in her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I knew I couldn’t do this. I knew I would hurt you.”

  “Stop. You didn’t. Yes, I want you, but I’m willing to wait—”

  “Oh, no!” Tears stung her eyes and panic flooded her. “Please don’t, Linc. Please don’t wait for me.”

  “I don’t know that I have a choice anymore, Jenna.” His hoarse words seemed to surprise him as much as they did her.

  She stared into his eyes, hurt rippling through her as she wished she was different, whole, wished she was ready to give herself. But she wasn’t. She couldn’t.

  She was a coward, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words, to again warn him off and spoil what they’d just shared. Feeling battered and bruised and weak from today’s events, Jenna stared into his eyes, knowing she could never be exactly what he wanted. And he knew, too. The knowledge hung between them, sharp in the brittle light of his eyes.

  “I think—” She drew in a deep breath, struggling to control the huskiness in her voice, the trembling in her legs. “I’ll go to bed now.”

  Desire flared in his eyes, and, before he could mask it, dark rejection. Jenna bit her lip, cursing her stupid choice of words.

  On rubbery legs, she stepped around him and walked toward the hallway. Agony clawed through her. She couldn’t bring herself to again tell him this would go nowhere, that he couldn’t change the way she was.

  She had tried not to lean on him, but he was there, solid, strong, dependable, easing past all her defenses, making her doubt everything she knew about herself, her buried sexuality.

  No matter how she fought getting closer to him, it was happening. She had the sudden feeling that they were... inevitable. And, like Ramsey, she had no control over that, either. At the realization, she expected to feel panic, but she didn’t

  She and Linc shared a bond she’d never expected, forged by cruelty and violation. She already felt more intimately connected to him than she ever had to any other man. And still she couldn’t give herself to him.

  At the thought, a sense of helplessness and loss welled up inside her.

  He was knotted up tighter than bad catgut. Even the next afternoon, Linc could still feel the seductive heat of Jenna’s mouth, the weight of her breast in his hand, the absolute trust she’d given him. They’d come together out of shared pain, a tragic understanding, yet that kiss had shredded his control. Desire axed his middle and he drew in a deep steadying breath.

  He sat in the living room on the love seat, one ankle across his knee, the paper spread over his lap. He was still on the same sports page he’d been on for the last half hour. Once again, his attention wandered to Jenna, who sat outside on the enclosed porch.

  He couldn’t believe he’d told her about Michelle and the baby. He’d never shared that pain with anyone outside his family. He wore it close like a badge, protected it, buried it and a part of him wanted it to stay buried.

  He’d expected to sleep poorly last night, haunted by the images of the past, but he’d slept soundly. An unexpected release had come after telling Jenna. And with her total acceptance. Relief that had eluded him for four hellish years now seemed his due.

  Sunlight flowed into the room and the dogs stretched lazily in the sun, sprawled in a line between him and the French doors, which she’d left open. She had pulled away from him last night, but there had been no revulsion in her eyes, no horror. Instead, they had been startled and dark with uncertainty and fading desire. Linc focused on that.

  She was starting to come around. Once again he recalled the satin stroke of her tongue against his, her soft curves melting over him.

  He hardened in a surge of lust and shifted on the small sofa. She’d enjoyed that kiss and his touch, until he’d gone too far.

  They had eaten lunch in relative silence. All day she’d been quiet and distant and Linc had silently acknowledged her boundaries.

  Fine. He’d tried to steer clear of her, even though it was driving him stark raving mad. From where he sat, he could hear the grate of the glider every time she moved, the crackle of paper as she turned the pages of the book she read. If he looked up, he could see the back of her head, her hair bathed in sunlight, warm with distinct shades of chestnut and red, a flicker of gold.

  She wore another of his shirts today and the green fabric slid off her shoulder, baring velvety skin bronzed by the sun.

  He ached to go out there, put his hands under that shirt and cup her breasts, kiss them and taste them until she moaned with need for him. He wanted to slowly peel those shorts from her body and sink into the sweet, tight heat of her.

  If he got any closer to her, he might try to kiss her. She didn’t need that today, not after the way she’d left things last night.

  She seemed to be holding it together quite well. Though pale, she was getting stronger every day. She didn’t jump as frequently at sudden noises, but he noticed the tight set of her shoulders and wondered if that was due to Ramsey or what had happened between the two of them last night.

  As large as the living room was, he felt chained to the space, unable to move, to breathe. The walls pressed in on him. In a surge of impatience and sexual frustration, Linc rose, dropped the newspaper to the floor and went into the kitchen to call Mace.

  A few minutes later, he walked to the open French doors and stood looking down at the top of Jenna’s head. Sunlight flowed over her, making the cast stark white against the glow of her skin. His gaze moved over her strong, capable hands and his body tightened.

  Her hand stilled on the book, which lay facedown in her lap, and she slowly looked up at him. So, she hadn’t been reading after all. He wondered if she was as aware of him as he was of her. He ached to touch her hair, to gather her to him and finish what they’d started last night, but that wasn’t what she needed.

  Despite the churning turmoil of his hormones, he wasn’t sure he needed it right now either. “I just talked to Mace and—”

  She sucked in a breath, fear and expectation dilating her eyes. “Has he—”

  “Sorry.” Linc cursed himself. Of course she would assume he had news of Ramsey. “No news. I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to the hospital for a couple of hours and Mace thinks that will be fine, if you’re okay with it.”

  She tried to hide the disappointment on her face, but Linc saw the bleakness cloud her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, feeling inept and clumsy. “I didn’t mean to make you think I had news.”

  She shook her head and rose from the chair, closing her book and gripping it in her good hand. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I have the dogs.”

  “And the phone if you need it.”

  She nodded.

  “You have my number at the hospital?”

  “It’s in the kitchen, by the phone?”

  “Yes.” He studied her, trying to probe past the serenity of her features, wondering if her emotions were as jumbled as his. “I won’t be long.”

  “It’s all right. I’m sure yo
u have things to do. I don’t expect you to stay with me all the time.”

  “I can go later or—”

  “No, go!” She smiled slightly. “I’ll be fine. You shouldn’t have to stay cooped up like I do. It’s been nice out here on the porch. It will be good for you to get out.”

  He nodded, studying her face. She didn’t seem eager to see him go, but neither did she seem to mind the idea. He turned to leave. “When I get back, we’ll go to your house. Unless you want me to go by there and get some things for you.”

  “No, I’d like to go.”

  “All right.” He stepped back into the house, then paused, his hand on the door frame. “Jenna, if you need it, I have a gun in my bureau drawer. Top right.”

  Protest flared in her eyes. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  “Just in case,” Linc said quietly, wishing he hadn’t needed to mention it. Wishing this whole thing was over.

  Torture ravaged her eyes and he very nearly hauled her to him. But she firmed her lips and nodded. “Just in case.”

  He pulled out of the driveway feeling at once a strange release and a heavy pressure on his chest. How could he be both relieved and reluctant to leave her? He didn’t know, but he was.

  Just in case. Jenna hated those words. Hated the apprehension, the anxiety they triggered. Hated the fear that lurked inside her ready to explode at the slightest noise, the slightest disturbance.

  She sank back down in the glider, hearing Linc’s truck engine fade into the distance. Knowing he had a gun within her reach was slightly reassuring. Remembering her response to him was not.

  He wanted her, wanted to wait for her to change her mind, to let him convince her she wasn’t frigid. She’d thought of nothing else last night or today. Her body thrummed with unanswered want. Desire now coursed through her like blood, so much a part of her that she wondered if it would ever fade away.

  It was the first passion she’d felt in years and a deep, secret core of her hoped it always lingered. Yet, it was a living, active torture, bubbling through her, reminding her that she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—reach out and take the promise of passion that Linc offered. She was too bound by fear.