Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash Page 22

  He abruptly pulled away, yanked down her shirt and coolly replaced his sunglasses. “I’m rather busy now. Guess we’ll finish this next May.” He strode from the building and back onto the balcony.

  She stared at his back, stunned and disbelieving. Fumbled with her bra, listening as he calmly called directions to Terry. And now they were discussing the weather. She pressed her hands to her cheeks trying to soothe the heat. Half horniness, half humiliation. She’d never felt so cheap. God, what a prick.

  She stumbled past him, head averted as she fled down the narrow steps. The Center wasn’t too far. Half a mile, max. She’d walk back. No way was she getting in his car. Never, ever again.

  A vehicle slowed and she jerked around. Not Burke but a green security truck. If she hadn’t been so shattered, she would have recognized the distinctive diesel engine.

  “Hi, Jenna.” Larry stuck his smiling head out the window. “Too hot to jog? Want a drive to the Center?”

  “Yes, thanks.” She climbed into the cab, struggling to act normal. “But could you drop me off at my place instead? I’m not working this week.”

  “No problem. It’s not on my route but won’t take long. And I want to thank you for reminding Mr. Burke about my firearms update. Getting a raise, can hardly believe it.” His phone buzzed and he picked it up, his smile fading as he listened to the caller.

  A brown clipboard lay on the seat between them. Larry was absorbed with his call so she tilted the board and scanned his schedule. Night checks this week were every hour, on the hour. Good to know.

  She was going to bring Peanut up and stand him under the lights, in the oxygen tank and maybe even in the saltwater spa—and she wasn’t going to feel an ounce of guilt. Not anymore. Larry shot her a curious glance, and she eased the clipboard back on the seat.

  “Yes, certainly, sir,” he finally said and hung up.

  His knuckles whitened around the wheel and his Adam’s apple moved convulsively, but he didn’t look at her again. Seemed embarrassed by her presence.

  “So, how’s your day going?” she asked, trying to help him relax. She checked her shirt, wondering if things were a little askew. That would explain his discomfort but no, Burke had replaced everything he’d handled. Asshole.

  Larry turned to the right and headed up the hill. Rocks pelted the bottom of the truck. She leaned forward, eyeing the pothole on the second curve, the deceptive hole that had already cost her two mufflers. Of course, they were in a rugged truck but still…

  “Better slow down, Larry,” she said. “The road’s rough. Big pothole coming up.”

  He didn’t slow. The truck’s right wheel slammed the hole, bouncing her several inches off the seat. “Oops, well that’s the spot. And there’s my place.” Her voice rose. “Better slow down a little.”

  He still didn’t speak. If anything his speed increased as they topped the crest of the hill. “Larry! You know where I live. What are you doing?” And then she knew.

  She twisted. A powerful black car loomed behind them. “What the hell did he tell you to do?”

  “Drive to his house and not let you jump out.”

  “I’m not going to jump out, Larry. That would be stupid.” Her hand crept to the door handle. Click. The locks dropped.

  “Sorry, Jenna. He said you might try that.”

  Her jaws clenched as the truck roared down the road, only slowing when they approached the huge Three Brooks’ mansion. Larry stopped at the top of the drive, scanning his side view mirror, clearly upset with his orders. “This doesn’t seem right. Making you come here.” His throat convulsed. “Guess if you’re really scared, you don’t have to get out.”

  “No.” She shook her head, somewhat mollified by his concern. But Burke expected Larry’s total obedience, and security jobs weren’t plentiful. “It’s okay,” she said quickly. “Mr. Burke just wanted a meeting. I misunderstood the time.”

  She faked a nonchalant wave and stepped out, keeping a smile pasted until Larry’s truck disappeared. Burke’s car door slammed. She wheeled to face him, hands fisted, fury stoked with humiliation. “You’re truly a professional prick. Bet you wouldn’t treat your rich friends like that.”

  “I’ve never cared enough to treat anyone like that,” he said.

  She turned and strode up the driveway, head high. If he touched her, she’d plug him in his arrogant nose. But he caught her in three strides, clamped her arms at her sides, and she was reduced to impotent jerks.

  Her father had taught her the head-butt move, to be used only in dire situations, but this seemed to qualify. She snapped her head up. However, he clearly was adept at street fighting and blocked it easily.

  She was hogtied and helpless and the knowledge was infuriating. She wasn’t going to cry, wasn’t going to swear, but he’d have to let go of her sometime and when he did, she was going to kill him. She quivered with impotent rage, her fury escalating as she waited for the moment he’d relax that steely grip.

  Swearing, he carried her around the side of the house, past the flowers, the fountain and the patio chairs.

  He released her—she had one second of shocked comprehension—then hit the cold, bracing water. She went under cursing. Came up choking. The sonofabitch just stood by the edge of the pool.

  He’d thrown her in the shallow end and she sputtered to her feet, arms and legs flailing, clumsy in her drenched clothes. Oh, no, her phone! She fumbled for her pocket, struggling to rescue it. Finally. Held the phone above the water, staring in horror at the display. But it was black, dead and dripping. Her phones calls to Em were finished.

  She pressed it to her chest, her heart as broken as her phone. Water streamed over her face, but she was too defeated to push back her bedraggled hair. A wrecked phone at the worst possible time, now, when Emily needed her. Her shoulders drooped, and despite her best efforts an aching sob leaked out.

  Something splashed. A moment later his big arms wrapped around her. “Don’t cry, honey. Please don’t cry.”

  But her anger had wilted, leaving her vulnerable, and the only thing she could do was cry—wracking sobs that tore at her chest, hurt her lungs and made it difficult to breathe. And she didn’t understand him, not one tiny bit.

  It was several minutes before she even managed to speak. “Why’d you do that…that m-mean thing in the viewing room?”

  He was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet she could barely hear. “Because I want you. And you don’t want me.”

  “And that technique’s been working for you?” She gave a hysterical sob and hiccupped.

  He remained silent, and she was too drained to manage more words. His hand lifted, brushing her wet hair off her face but other than that they didn’t move, didn’t speak. He only held her in the clear water as though he’d never let go.

  The sun was high and warming, rather pleasant really, and even though her shirt stuck to her chest it was already drying over her shoulders. She looked up, saw his bleak expression—so at odds with his usual control—and her natural compassion surged.

  “I’m not trying to be difficult,” she whispered, “but I’ve always known, have always said, relationships aren’t good for me. That was never what we were about.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He slipped his hand beneath her hair and cradled her, pressing her head tighter against his beating heart.

  She swallowed, aching for both of them. “Mom didn’t care much for anyone except my father,” she said haltingly, her mouth pressed against his wet shirt. “But he made her less of a person, not more. Love can be so destructive. I remember the fists…taking Em and hiding with Peanut in the kennel. She should have left him.” Her voice cracked, and she was glad he couldn’t see her face. “She shouldn’t have done that to us. To her.”

  “How old is Em?”

  She glanced up. Burke’s voice sounded rusty but it was the first time he’d shown much interest in Emily, and her chest gave its usual bump of pride. “Twe
nty. She’s in Philadelphia taking her science degree. Finally, a Murphy will have some education.”

  “But you’ve done some studying.”

  His voice had sharpened and, too late, she realized her mistake. That was another problem with Burke; he was just too damn quick.

  She wiggled from his arms, trying to distract him. Skimmed her hands over the top of the water, watching as it swirled around their bodies. His shoulders were completely dry and she splashed some water. “Hardly fair,” she said, with forced gaiety. “I’m completely soaked, and your hair isn’t even wet.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe you threw me in. Wish I was strong enough to return the favor.”

  He stared at her for a moment then abruptly sank beneath the surface. She edged forward, searching for his dark shape. He rose behind her, head sleek as a seal’s.

  “Now we’re even,” he said.

  “Not quite.” She dunked his head back down, realizing the extent of his remorse when he let her hold him under for five, ten, twenty seconds. Shit. She lifted her hand, allowing him to surface.

  “You can hold me under much longer,” he said, “if it makes you feel better.” Rivulets streamed down his bleak face.

  “Really?” She tilted her head. “How much longer? After all, I feel pretty bad.” But she never could hold anger very long and hated to cause sadness in others. “How about you swim to the end and back?” she asked brightly. “Underwater. And doing the dog paddle.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve done the dog paddle.” A trace of amusement glimmered in his face. “Never was very good at it.”

  “Really.” She stuck her nose in the air with exaggerated haughtiness, relieved to see a hint of a smile. “I was champion dog paddler of the entire county.”

  “The entire county?” And now he actually did smile. “Impressive qualifications, indeed. Perhaps a race is in order?”

  “Definitely,” she said. “To the end and back.”

  It took a minute to remove their boots. They both tried to cheat and grab a head start, but she was faster. Won again in the breaststroke although he beat her in the sidestroke race, and when she saw his effortless crawl, she merely grabbed his leg and let him drag her the length of the pool.

  “You definitely won that one,” she said, struggling to reach the bottom with the tips of her toes. Couldn’t quite touch so gripped his shoulders, needing time to catch her breath. “Looks like you have an Olympic-caliber crawl, Burke.” She tried not to pant because his breathing seemed unaffected, and he had definitely swam further. “I need to rest for a second but well done,” she managed, still huffing.

  “And you’re definitely the dog paddle star, sweetie.” He pulled her close, obligingly providing a convenient rest spot.

  She tucked against her favorite part of his chest, letting him support her, and when her legs kept floating up, wrapped them around his thighs. “It’s hard to swim in clothes, isn’t it?” She closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face. “It’s also hard to stay mad,” she added in a whisper.

  His arms tightened but he didn’t say a word and she was glad. For now, this was the perfect combination of sun, water, man. She blew out a sigh, accepting that her anger and hurt had dissolved. “How long can you stand here?” she asked.

  “Long as you want.” He paused and she could almost feel him thinking. “But you’re not getting in my car with those wet clothes.”

  “You’d make me walk home after nearly drowning me in your pool?”

  He grinned. “Only solution is to let them dry in the sun. Won’t take long.” He tugged off her T-shirt, ignoring her weak protest, and tossed the soggy ball onto a pool chair. Slid his hand behind her back and unclipped her bra with such skill, she experienced a prick of jealousy thinking of all those other women.

  “There, much better.” He tilted her so that water lapped around her breasts. Rather erotic although the sun seemed to make her skin itch, especially her nipples, and she half wished he’d use that big hand, his mouth, or even his teeth.

  But he just lingered over her face, his lips brushing her cheek, then moving along her neck, agonizingly slow. At least kiss me, she thought, obligingly tilting her head. But no, his mouth had already wandered to her ear and while that was nice, fine in fact, her nipples were really tingling now and surely he noticed how they stuck from the water. It was scary how he could turn her on so quickly. Like earlier today.

  She peered at him suspiciously. “You’re not going to start something, and then, ah…leave me hanging again, are you?”

  “No.”

  But he continued to nuzzle her neck and now—she wasn’t sure how he did it—her entire body quivered, craving his attention. “Burke,” she said, trying to twist to her feet, wanting now to move along to his bed. “I’m a little afraid of sunburn here.”

  “As well you should be.” His hand obligingly moved to her breast, making her shiver under its lazy touch. “Is that better?”

  “Much.” She closed her eyes, feeling wanton and wicked as he caressed her. “Although the sun’s very strong. I should soon cover up—”

  “Let me,” he murmured, his breath fanning her skin. “But hold still. This is delicate work. And I like to do it just right.” His teeth closed around her nipple, and the intense pleasure almost jerked her from the water.

  She groaned. He was definitely doing it right but he was working a little slow, and she wiggled with impatience.

  “We better get your jeans off,” he said. “Unsnap them, sweetie.”

  She reached down, lowered her zipper and tried to wiggle out. He wasn’t much help, too busy concentrating on her breasts but she wasn’t about to complain. Definitely didn’t want him distracted. She finally kicked off her jeans and panties, locked her bare legs around him, and reached for his belt.

  He stilled her hand, setting it back on his shoulder. “You’re going to have an orgasm in a minute, but you’re not running off afterwards. You’re sleeping here with me. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She yanked her hand back down and fumbled at his buckle.

  “You’ll sleep here and I’ll drive you home in the morning, and then we’ll go on a little trip,” he said. “Agreed?”

  “Sheesh, Burke. Quit talking.” She locked her lips on his mouth. Shouldn’t have because he seemed to forget what he was doing and wrapped both arms around her, and now she couldn’t even reach his belt.

  But he was such a good kisser, so intense, so deep, so thorough. She shivered with pleasure as his tongue mated with hers and she lost herself in the kiss. Was barely aware when his nimble hand drifted between her legs and sent her spinning into orgasm.

  She opened her eyes. He was breathing hard but then again, so was she. “You’re very generous,” she whispered, halfheartedly reaching for his bulging erection. He stopped her hand and she was relieved, much too drained of energy.

  He grinned at her languor, the tiny lines around his eyes crinkling. He looked totally happy now, almost boyish, and she was glad. Her arm felt heavy but she reached up and tenderly touched his cheek. “If you let me go now, I believe I’d drown.”

  “But I’m not letting you go, Jenna.” He kissed her forehead and carried her up the steps and out of the pool.

  “Wait.” It had all been very nice but now she stiffened, realizing he was fully clothed while she wore nothing at all. “My jeans are at the bottom of the pool.”

  “I know where your jeans are.” His smile was rather wicked. “But you need to warm up.”

  She glanced over his shoulder at the sun, trying to calculate the time. She really should go home soon. Check on Peanut. Figure out a way to call Em.

  “Stop thinking,” he said. He pressed a button by the Jacuzzi. Water churned.

  He padded down the steps. Hot bubbles wrapped around her like an old friend, hiding her nudity, a reassuring development especially since he was fully clothed. And wasn’t having the other person naked a standard interrogation practice? She tugge
d at his shirt. “Play fair here,” she said.

  He chuckled but let her unbutton his shirt and pull it off before maneuvering her back onto his lap. Since he was being so agreeable and the water so soothing, she stopped thinking, tucked her head against his chest and let herself relax.

  “This is my favorite spot,” she said drowsily, unthinking.

  “The Jacuzzi?”

  “No, this spot on your chest. It’s comfortable. I can hear your heartbeat. It feels safe.”

  “And I love you being there, Jenna,” he whispered, his words strangely solemn.

  She tried to remain still, but the odd note in his voice made her uneasy. “How long before my clothes are dry?” she asked, wondering if he would dive down and retrieve her jeans or if she’d have to.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll look after them.”

  She knew she should protest, insist on getting dressed and away from there, away from him, but she’d agreed not to run off and besides he wasn’t talking anymore. In fact, he was rubbing her shoulder, something she always loved, and the thought of hauling on wet clothes and leaving wasn’t nearly as appealing.

  ***

  “You sure Peanut was fine?” Jenna asked as she bit into her pizza, looking small and lovable in his over-sized bathrobe.

  “He was fine, relieved you stayed here actually. We had some important guy time. He even told me a few secrets.”

  “Really?” She sniffed as though bored, but her cheeks turned slightly pink.

  “Surprising things,” Burke added, studying her face. Yes. He definitely spotted some discomfort. Even guilt. What the hell had she been up to? She dropped her half-eaten slice of pizza on the plate and reached for her wine glass.

  “Of course,” he went on, playing a hunch, “I’ve taken several horse telepathy courses so it simplifies communication. And Peanut is an excellent subject. Wants you to know he prefers cut-up apples, not those old carrots. He also confided about what you’ve been doing.”