The Only Way Out Part 10

"When I was a senior in high school, my parents were killed in a car accident."

She paused,then looked at him. For a moment he didn't understand what she was waiting for. Then he remembered. The lie. That Jeanne and J.J. had died in a car accident, as well. It was something they had in common.

The explosion of rage surprised him. He wanted to stand up and tell her they had nothing common, nothing except the fact that her husband had murdered his family. He wanted to destroy her world, as his had been destroyed. He wanted to see her suffering and in pain.

He did nothing. He didn't move, didn't speak,didn't look away. Finally she realized he wasn't going to respond, so she went on with her story.

"By that time I'd done some local modeling. I'd just turned eighteen. Their estate was small, but it was enough to get me toNew York. From there the agency took over. I was sent toEurope. It was a huge mistake."

He'd calmed down enough to speak normally. "Weren't you successful?"

She rested her chin on her knees. "I made a lot of money, if that's what you're asking. But I was kid. I'd never traveled, had never been on my own. Suddenly I was thrust in this high-powered existence. I had more money than I knew what to do with. Everywhere I went, men wanted to be with me, take me places. I missed my parents, my home and my friends, but I couldn't go back. I remember that the most. Thinking I couldn't go back. I was never clear why I couldn't." She took a deep breath. "Now I know I wanted desperately to fit in, to belong somewhere. I was trying to replace my family. I fell in and out of love a lot. Or at least I thought it was love. There were a lot of strange people around."

She stared at the ocean. "I know what they said about me. About the parties and the men. I had a reputation for being wild." She smiled. "I was so happy to be notorious. The truth was I was a terrible drinker. After one gla.s.s of wine I felt like I was going to throw up. I'd always felt awkward about my body, so I'd never been free with men. Then I got involved with a das.h.i.+ng Frenchman." She s.h.i.+vered slightly. "Very handsome, very suave. Elegant dresser. He was my first-" She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I fell in love, for real, I thought. We got engaged. Two weeks later I found him in bed with my best friend. I was stunned. I ran off toMonte Carlo." Her half laugh sounded sad. "Isn't that dramatic? I ran off toMonte Carlo. To lick my wounds and salvage my pride."

He didn't want to feel sorry for her, and he didn't want to know she might have been one of the innocents. It was easier to hate her if he thought of her simply as Kray's wife.

"Yeah, you had it real hard."

She glanced at him. "You're consistent, Rambo. I'll give you that. While I was staying with a friend in her rather small but exclusive apartment, I met Kray." Her bravado slipped a little. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I was young and stupid, but I would have run in the other direction if I'd had a clue about who he was."

She paused as if waiting for him to yell at her. When he didn't, she straightened and stretched out her long, bare legs. "He was older, very charming. He knows women. I didn't have a prayer. Within the first hour, I'd told him everything about myself, including the experience with the Frenchman. By the end of the week I had a private suite in the hotel where he was staying. I thought he was a good man. I thought he cared about me. It wasn't until later that I put it all together. I can't be sure of course, but I've always wondered."

"What?"

"There was a car accident. I didn't find out about it until we were married. The Frenchman I'd been engaged tohad been hit by a car about a week after I met Kray. He died instantly. I think it's because of me. Isn't that awful? I'm afraid to face the truth, yet there it sits for everyone to see. How am I supposed to live with that?"

He wasn't surprised by what Kray had done. A twisted form of justice had always been the crime lord's calling card. He protected what he owned and that protection would extend to the woman he planned to marry. In a single, large explosion Kray had stolen Jeff's ability to protect those he loved. He wondered what Andie would think if she knew the truth.

She blinked several times before continuing. "I didn't want to know, you see. I didn't want to have made a mistake. I was looking for a place to belong. No, that's not right. I wanted to belong to someone. I was a child inside, but no one knew that. Not even me. I just wanted to love someone and have him love me back. I wanted what everyone else has and takes for granted a normal life. Is that so awful?"

She turned toward him. The moonlight filtered through the palm fronds and highlighted her high cheekbones and full mouth. Her skin glowed.

The question hung between them. Was it so awful? Was it her fault? Did he have the right to keep on hating her for being alive?

He wanted to shoutyes . She deserved what she got, and more. Except it wasn't that simple anymore. He could feel her confusion and her pain. The first twinges of compa.s.sion surprised and irritated him. The need within him was overwhelming. Not just to touch her, but to comfort her. To hold her until the wounds had closed and begun to heal.

Who was he to heal anyone?

She glanced back at the ocean and raised her chin slightly. He realized she fought against her emotions and the tears they produced. She looked fragile, sitting there alone in the dark. She waited for him to pa.s.s judgment. To continue to hate her. He did hate her. Almost as much as he wanted her.

Without stopping to think why he risked it, he slid toward her. Her lower lip quivered.

"No, it's not so awful," he said, reaching his arm around her shoulder and drawing her close.

He was ten different kinds of a fool. Worse, he was crossing the line and once on the other side, he might never find his way back.

Before he could pull away, Andie threw herself against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his chest.

"I know you hate me," she said, her voice broken and contrite. "I'm sorry I'm in the way. I'm sorry I married him. I just want everything to be okay and it's not. It's never going to be okay. What if I can't do it? What if I can't keep my son safe? I'm so afraid."

"It'll be all right," he said automatically.

"You don't know that."

She raised her head and looked up at him. Her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. He should shove her away from him. He should tell her the truth about what Kray did. He should remember his wife and the explosion that took her life.

But all he could see was Andie. She was close, too close. Too real. In his arms, trembling. She was alive and made him realize how he'd missed the living. He studied her perfect features. Her eyes. Her mouth. G.o.d, he couldn't look at anything but her mouth. There, for the taking. Then the wanting overwhelmed him with unexpected force. He had to taste her or perish.

He hesitated that last moment. Fighting the need, the pain, the desire and the past. Her gaze locked with his. He read uncertainty, then an answering flare. He brushed his lips against hers.

It had been so long, he wasn't sure what the kiss would feel like. He'd forgotten about the rush of desire, the pa.s.sion that flooded his body. She was soft and hot, her sweet lips trembling slightly under his.

He gripped her shoulders tightly, wanting to thrust her away. Instead, his eyes closed and he hauled her against him.

She made a small sound, surprise and encouragement, as if she, too, needed this moment of holding and touching. He felt a flash of sympathy, of connection; then it was lost, burned away by the fire that engulfed him.

He pressed hard against her mouth, wanting to feel every part of her. So smooth and soft, so willing. As he increased the pressure, her lips clung tohis, as if afraid he would leave too soon. Her fingers brushed against his sides; then she leaned against him. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s flattened against his chest, her thighs b.u.mped his knees. The warmth of her, the scent,the need surrounded him in a woven net of desire.

He parted his mouth. She responded in kind, opening for him. He swept his tongue inside. She was hotter there, sweeter. Oh, the taste of her. He'd forgotten about the forbidden flavor of a woman. His breathing deepened.

Between his thighs, need pulsed in time with his quickening heartbeat. His muscles tensed, his blood heated. He was harder than he ever remembered being, the pa.s.sion was stronger, the hunger deeper. He raised his hands from her shoulders to her neck. How slender she was. Her skin felt like rose petals, cool and smooth. He touched her hair, the liquid satin,then fingered the long rope of her braid.

She clutched at his back. Her fingers branded him, as did her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He moved his chest back and forth. Through the layer of her T-s.h.i.+rt and bra, he felt her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swell and tighten.

He wanted her naked. He wanted to touch her and taste her all of her. He wanted to explore every inch, to discover secret freckles, the feminine dips and hollows, the shape of her hips, her ribs. He wanted to trace the long lines of her legs, her arms, her hands. He wanted to bring her pleasure in his arms, see her shudder,hear his name spoken in pa.s.sionate surrender.

The need overwhelmed him. He cupped his fingers along her jaw, holding her still. He tilted his head so he could go deeper inside of her mouth. She met his a.s.sault, matching him thrust for thrust. There was a fire between them. He could feel it licking along his body, consuming him. There was nothing but the moment and how she made him feel. Long-denied hunger exploded into a beast he couldn't control. There was only this woman in his arms and the night. Nothing else mattered.

He pulled back slightly so he could kiss her face. She laughed softly as he nipped at her nose,then gently traced an outline of her mouth. She was different. He liked the differences. They- Jeff stiffened. His muscles tightened with shock, as if he'd plunged into icy water. He opened his eyes to find Andie looking up at her. Wide blue eyes darkened with confusion. Different. She was different from Jeanne. Different hair color, different features, different shape.

"Jeff?"

Even her voice was different. Even the question, the slight flicker of pain, the s.h.i.+fting of her against him was different.

He stood up and crossed the porch to the corner opposite the swing. He stared out at the night. Instead of seeing the surf or the stars, he tried to picture his wife. The image wouldn't come to him.

Instead, he saw Andie's face. The faint glistening of tears, the slight quiver of her mouth. Had Kray also fallen for tears in the moonlight?

He needed to know more about her. More about her marriage so his hatred could strengthen him. For despite the pain and the loss, he still wanted her.

"So you met Kray inMonte Carloand he fixed your broken heart," he said harshly. "Then what?"

Andie stood up. She leaned against the porch railing and stared at him. "You still want to hear about my past?"

"Yes."

She touched her fingers to her mouth as if she didn't believe what they'd just done. Or how he was acting. He didn't care about that. He had to know more. "Tell me everything. You must have married pretty quickly."

"We did," she said slowly. "We were engaged within the month and married a few weeks after that. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She flinched at his harsh tone. He hated that he noticed the way her hands trembled slightly. "Go on. When did you first figure out the truth about him?"

"There were clues before we were married, but I didn't put them together until after. I suppose I began to wonder on our honeymoon. At first it was just the two of us." She folded her arms over her chest and looked out at the sea. "At first it was exactly what I thought it would be. Then things began to change. More and more people flew in to meet with him. There was always something odd about the way he did business. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I was uncomfortable around his a.s.sociates. Unfortunately they were staying with us at the villa, so I couldn't escape them."

Jeff heard the words, but he didn't want to believe her. "At the villa? Here? You honeymooned on St. Lucas with Kray?"

She stared at him. Slowly she lowered her arms to her side,then stiffened her spine. She walked toward him, stopping when she was two steps away. The light from the living room spilled onto her face. "Yes. What did you think?"

"You've been here before?"

"For six weeks. I left him a few months later, so I never came back. The honeymoon is the reason I knew about the island in the first place. That's why I knew where he would take Bobby."

He could still taste her sweetness. He wanted to scrub the flavor away. He glared at her, despising her, despisinghimself . She'd been with Kray on this island. She'd touched him and loved him. Jeff clutched the railing, squeezing until his fingers ached. How could he have been so blind? How could he have kissed her?

"Jeff, what's wrong?" She placed her hand on his arm.

He jerked away. "Go inside."

"What?"

"Go inside," he repeated slowly. "Get some rest. We'll be leaving soon. In the meantime, just stay out of my way."

"Stay out ofyour way? You're the one who-"

"Don't say it," he growled, glaring at her. "d.a.m.n you, don't you say it."

She stared at him as if he'd gone crazy. Perhaps he had. He'd also hurt her. He read that in the slight slump of her shoulders as she turned away and walked into the house.

Jeff closed his eyes against the memories, but that didn't help. He could still see her and taste her. His body was still hard from wanting her. It didn't matter that she'd screwed his wife's killer. It didn't matter that she'd borne Kray's son.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the night. "Jeanne, I'm so sorry."

He wasn't sure what he apologized for. The kiss? Or not being the kind of husband she'd needed. Did he wish to atone for a moment of pa.s.sion, or all the years he'd loved his job more?

But it wasn't enough. He still couldn't recall her face. The exact sound of her voice, of her laugh, eluded him, like the echo of a dream he couldn't recall. He could see J.J. easily. The boy lived on in his heart. But Jeanne had faded.

It was a punishment. Once again Kray had won. Jeff wondered what Kray would say if he knew the truth. That Jeff l.u.s.ted after his woman.

Chapter 7.

It was another perfect day in paradise. Andie glanced up at the brilliant blue sky, at the bright sun, and frowned. How did the locals stand so much happy weather? Right now she wanted the climate to match her mood. That meant it should be cold, gray and rainy. Instead she was stuck here on St. Lucas, basking in the tropics.

She reached down and splashed water onto the inflatable raft she and Bobby had found in a nearby storage shed that morning. While her son sat on the steps in the shallow end of the pool and played with his now-amphibious action figures, she pressed her sungla.s.ses more firmly on her face and closed her eyes to block out the sun.

She wished she could sleep. Last night, after she'd fled the porch and Jeff's odd behavior, she'd lain in bed staring at the ceiling. The sound of the surf and her son's even breathing hadn't been enough to block out Jeff's pacing. He'd walked back and forth on the porch for hours. She'd been torn between wondering what he was thinking about, wanting to go and ask if she could help, and staying out of his way. He was the most confusing and exasperating man she'd ever met.

Did he worry about getting them off the island? Was it concerns about his secret mission that kept him awake? Or was it the kiss?

Andie sighed and opened her eyes. Better to stare at the sparkling pool water and the white sand than to relive that kiss again. She didn't want to remember how it had felt to be in Jeff's arms. It had been so long since someone had held her. She could have wept with happiness, not that she'd had a chance to do more than absorb his strength and maleness. It had almost felt foreign. Dormant sensations had awakened painfully. She hadn't felt desire or need in years. She hadn't had the time or even been willing to risk those feelings. They would have meant she was close to someone. Letting a man into her life had been too risky. She'd never known when Kray was going to return, but she'd always known he would. He wasn't the type to let his possessions go, even one he didn't want anymore.

So she'd stayed on her own, because it was safer. She'd been determined not to let anyone past the barriers. With Jeff she hadn't had a choice. He'd surprised her, sweeping her up in a maelstrom of need, touching her, not just physically, but inside. Then he'd pushed her away.

She knew why. It even made sense in a twisted way. Jeff despised her because of Kray. Because ofwho her ex-husband was. Jeff didn't know her, but that didn't matter. He judged her by the company she'd kept. He judged her by Bobby's father. He'd probably been on Kray's trail for years.

"Mommy, I want to swim to the deep end," Bobby announced, standing up on the second step.

"Okay, honey. I'll watch."

She sat up, straddling the floating raft. Her legs dangled in the warm pool water. Bobby raised his arms above his head and made an exaggerated dive from the step. He splashed around for a couple of seconds, then found his stroke and started for the far end of the pool.

Andie watched him swim. Her son was a physical creature, preferring to run rather than walk, to bounce instead of sit. At least with the nice weather and having access to a pool, she didn't have to worry about him being bored. He was used to playing by himself. She allowed him to have as many friends as he wanted but somehow he understood her need for them to stand alone against the world. He went to other people's houses for play and parties, but he didn't stay late. He sensed her fear. She hated that. Hated what Kray had reduced them to.

Bobby reached the far end of the pool. He grabbed the side with one hand. "Look at me."

"I see. You're doing great with your swimming. I'll bet CoachEarnhart will move you up to the red team this summer."

Bobby's hazel eyes widened. "Wow, really? The red team?"

He grinned showing white teeth almost the same color as the zinc oxide she'd put on his nose. Sunscreen wasn't always enough to protect him from sunburn. She'd rubbed the same cream on her own nose. They must look like clowns.

"I think so," she said. "Tryouts are next month. You've really improved a lot. You've been working hard, haven't you?"

Bobby nodded,then puffed out his thin chest. "Watch how fast I swim back!"

He threw himself in the water and paddled toward the shallow end. Andie kept her eye on him, staying upright on the raft until he'd returned to the steps in the shallow end. He picked up his action figures and immediately began a compet.i.tion with them. She smiled and leaned back. She splashed water up onto her legs to keep herself cool. It would be terrific if Bobby made the red team. She wasn't like some mothers she didn't care if Bobby came in first or last when the swim team competed. All that mattered to her was that her son was having fun and that he tried. Bobby had been working hard all winter, swimming several times a week. The lesson and members.h.i.+p dues were one of her few indulgences. It was worth it to see him so happy and successful. If CoachEarnhart agreed with her and- Andie stopped splas.h.i.+ng the water. She raised her head slightly and gazed at her son playing happily. A band tightened around her chest. She didn't know if Bobby was ever going to see his coach or his friends again. For a few moments she'd forgotten that they were on the run. Unless Kray was somehow caught and put away, they wouldn't be able to return to their old life. Nothing was ever going to be the same for them again.

Sometimes she thought she was living in a dream. This couldn't be happening to her. It wasn't real. Nothing had been normal or sane since her parents had been killed in the car crash. The months following the accident were like an old home movie. The memories ran through her brain without sound. Some things she could see clearly, others were foggy with whole sections missing. She didn't remember very much clearly until she met Kray. Those memories were vivid, almost frightening in their intensity. She'd been so sure, so convinced he was the one. She'd squashed any doubts until it was too late. On her honeymoon, she'd had vague feelings of uneasiness, but she'd ignored them. She hadn't wanted to know the truth. Until that afternoon when she'd been unable to deny what had happened.

Andie bit down hard on her lower lip. She didn't want to remember. She didn't want to see it again. But she couldn't stop the past from intruding. She clutched the raft as if she were afraid of being swept up in the storm. The plastic seemed to dissolve beneath her fingers. The water, the bright suns.h.i.+ne, everything faded until she was once again in a long corridor, listening to thetaptap of her high heeled shoes on the wooden floor.

Two fifty-eight. That time stood out in her mind because she'd just glanced at her watch. A slim gold timepiece. Expensive, elegant. Only one of the dozens of gifts Kray had showered her with. She'd been to lunch with an acquaintance. Afterward she was supposed to get her hair styled for a party that night. At the last minute she'd decided to wear a different dress that had a matching hat. She'd canceled her hair appointment from the restaurant and had come back to the apartment.

She remembered the silence, broken only by her shoes. It was as if even the walls paused to listen. Then she'd heard low voices. Men having a conversation. The tone had changed. To anger. They spoke in a language she didn't know, although she recognized Kray's voice. She hurried to tell him she was home.

The door to the drawing room was open. She remembered laughing at him when he'd called it a drawing room, teasing him for speaking as if they were Victorian aristocracy. Kray had pulled her close, whispering she was his lady of the manor. They'd made love on the elegant gold-and-cream settee. Since then she'd always had a fondness for that room.

A length of Oriental carpet covered the hallway floor, m.u.f.fling the sound of her approaching steps. She moved closer, wis.h.i.+ng they would speak in English so she would know what they were saying.

Then the voices got louder, harsher, and she hesitated. It was the sudden silence that drew her closer. She took that last step to the open doorway.

Her husband stood with his back to her. A man she'd never seen before knelt on the floor in front of him. Two of Kray's bodyguards stood a few feet away.