Full Tilt
But as Jamie drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were not of Phillip but of Max.
Sometime during the night, Jamie awoke. "Max, are you asleep?"
He was lying beside her on the other blanket. "Just resting. Are you cold?"
"A little."
"Scoot closer. I'll share some body heat."
Jamie was only too happy to comply. She curled against him, seeking his warmth. It felt safe, even in a place filled with danger. She tried to soak in the feeling because it was the first time she could remember experiencing it full force. It amazed her that Max, the man who made her crazy by taking so many chances, provoked such feelings of comfort and security.
Suddenly, Max shivered.
"Are you cold, too?" she asked.
"No, I'm shivering for a different reason."
Oh, God, he was obviously feeling sexy, she thought. What to do, what to do? Jamie had to admit she was feeling sexy as well. Damn, she was lusting after Max Holt. Okay, that did not necessarily make her a bad person. She suspected every red-blooded female under the age of ninety would experience a feeling of desire lying next to a man like Max. She was no different, only that she had a good man who wanted to make her his wife and give her a normal home, emphasis on normal. What would Phillip think if he knew she was snuggled up against Max in the woods beside a gator-infested swamp?
She tried to pull back. "I don't think—"
"Try not to think right now, Jamie," he said.
She turned her face away.
Max rose up on one elbow. "I wish you'd stop running from me."
"I'm not—" She paused.
He put a finger beneath her chin and gently lifted her face to his. "I'm going to kiss you, Jamie. You can punch me in the jaw afterward if you like, but I think it'll be worth it."
She opened her mouth to reply, but it was too late. Max covered her mouth with his. All thinking ceased. It was as if someone had just reached inside her head, snatched her brain and tossed it aside, as if to say, "You won't be needing this right now." Her body went wacko, nerve endings jangling as loudly as the old pots and pans the junkman tied to his pickup truck as he bounced along the road looking through people's garbage piles. And what the heck was going on with her stomach? It felt like there were eight lords a-leaping inside, all of them wearing cleats with pointy toes. And that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it was she was enjoying every minute of it.
Max slipped his tongue inside her mouth, and Jamie knew she was a goner. Instead of using her common sense, as she should have, Jamie pressed herself against his solid body, seeking more. If somebody had come along at that moment and told her she was engaged to another man she would have called them a liar because the last thing on her mind right then was Phillip Standish.
She pulled him closer.
He was hard as granite.
And she was hotter than a barbecue grill on the Fourth of July.
He slipped his knee between her thighs. She gasped and held her breath. Oh, double damn. She didn't try to stop him when he reached for the buttons on her blouse and undid them slowly. He pushed her bra away and touched her nipple with his tongue. It felt hot against the night air. She sighed as he tugged on it with his lips, and the sensation ran the full length of her and settled low in her belly. Even as he twirled his tongue around the nipple, his free hand massaged her other breast.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Max cut her off, planting his lips firmly on hers. He nibbled her bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside. Jamie felt as though she were sinking into the fragrant earth. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, loving the taste and texture of his mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair as she had wanted to many times before, and it was just as thick and silky as she had suspected.
Jamie moaned and arched against him, even as Max raised his head and dropped soft kisses across her cheeks and forehead and finally her closed eyes.
He moved over her, pressing himself against her intimately. Jamie sucked in her breath.
Max pulled his head back after a moment. "Are you okay? You're not breathing."
"Huh?" She opened her eyes, blinked several times.
"Am I too heavy?"
"Uh, no."
"I want to make love to you, Jamie," he said, his face a fraction of an inch from hers. "I want to kiss you all over and bury myself deep inside of you."
"Then what?"
He looked confused. "Well, then I want to hold you warm and naked against me through the night."
Jamie searched his face, saw the passion. "But then what?" she repeated.
He shook his head as if to clear it. "I'm confused. I don't know how to answer that."
Of course he didn't know the answer. He didn't even understand the question. Common sense returned with the force of a bucket of cold water in the face.
* * * * *
"I'm telling you, something is very wrong," Deedee said, pacing the living room as Frankie and the other wrestlers sat quietly, each seemingly lost in thought. Tears welled in her eyes. "Max and Jamie could be seriously injured or worse for all we know."
"Calm down, sweetheart," Frankie said, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. "Lamar has every one of his men looking for Max's car. I'm sure he'll call soon."
"It's three o'clock in the morning!" Deedee said. "Lamar has been searching for four hours. This is not a big town."
Frankie's campaign manager, Aaron, handed her a handkerchief. He'd come for dinner and stayed when Max and Jamie hadn't shown up. "Your brother is smart," he said. "He can hold his own in any situation. Besides, as soon as Frankie's withdrawal from the mayoral race is announced, this should all die down."
"You're withdrawing from the race?" Deedee asked in disbelief.
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
She glanced away.
"I don't like this sitting around waiting," Snakeman said. "Me and the boys could go out on our own and look for them. We have cell phones so we can stay in contact."
Big John stood. "I'm ready when you are."
"I'm sorry you have to go through this," Frankie said to Deedee. "I would never have run for mayor if I'd known this sort of thing would happen."
"You should have talked to me before you made the decision to drop out," she replied. "I don't like that you're doing it for me, and I don't want people to see you as a quitter. If you believe you can do something about the corruption in this town, stay in the race. We need to know who's been trying to hurt us, Frankie."
Frankie and his manager exchanged looks. Aaron scooted toward the edge of his chair. "Mrs. Fontana, I would like to see Frankie stay in the race myself, but you're going to have to be prepared to go all the way with this. Things are probably going to get much worse before they get better."
Deedee hitched her chin high. "Frankie and me aren't quitters. Besides, my husband is good and honest, and he will clean up this town. We will work together."
Frankie took her hand, and the look on his face was filled with love. "I don't know what to say, Deedee."
"You're going to make a fine mayor, Frankie," she said, "and I'm going to be the best mayor's wife I can. If you care that much about this little town, so do I."
The portable phone on the coffee table rang, causing Deedee to jump. "Jeez!" She snatched it up and listened. "Are you sure?" she asked after a moment. "Okay, we're on our way." She hung up. "They've found Max's car. It's at the boat landing."
"Let's go," Frankie said.
Frankie, Deedee, and Aaron made the drive in record time. Lamar Tevis was on his car radio, and several deputies scouted the area. A few minutes later, Snakeman pulled up, followed by Big John and the Choker. Frankie filled them in.
Deedee climbed into Max's car while her husband and the others looked on. "Talk to me, Muffin," she said. "It's Deedee."
Snakeman looked at Frankie. "What's she doing?"
"Max created a computer with voice recognition," he said. "She keeps up with his every move."
Deedee waited for Muffin's response, but there was none. "Look, Muffin, Max has already told me how stubborn you are, but this is an emergency. Max is missing. I think he's in trouble."
"Deedee Fontana?" a voice said from an unseen speaker.
"Yeah, it's me."
Big John and Choker stepped closer to the car.
"I have a question for you, Deedee," Muffin said. "You once broke into Max's cousin's house looking for a piece of jewelry. What was it called?"
"You mean my Stargio?"
"What exactly is a Stargio?"
Deedee looked at Frankie and shrugged her shoulders as if confused.
"I think Muffin wants to make sure it's really you," Frankie whispered.
"Oh." Deedee looked at the dashboard. "The Stargio was a piece of jewelry specifically designed for a dress I'd planned to wear to the ambassador's ball. I broke into Max's house and set off all his alarms. I'm lucky I wasn't tossed into the slammer, but the cops were used to me setting off Max's alarms."
"Nice to meet you, Deedee," Muffin said. "Tell me about Max."
"He's been missing since this afternoon."
"Miss Swift is with him," Muffin said. It was more a statement than a question.
"Yeah."
"Oh, damn."
Big John nudged Snakeman. "It cusses. I've never heard a computer cuss."
"I specifically warned Max not to go through with it," Muffin said. "He has put himself and Miss Swift in serious danger."
"Where is he?" Deedee asked.
"They borrowed a boat so they could visit a man called Swamp Dog."
"Swamp Dog!" Deedee shrieked. "You can't be serious. He's supposed to be some kind of murdering sleazebag lunatic."
"Have you contacted the police department?"
"Yes. They're here now."
"I can arrange a rescue team," Muffin said.
She was quiet for a few minutes. "I've lined up a chopper, but they can't start searching until daybreak."
Deedee sounded surprised. "You did it that fast?"
"I have to work fast when it comes to your brother. The minute you see Max, tell him I have the information he asked for. By the way, are you still having hot flashes?"
Deedee blinked. "As a matter of fact, I am. Everybody thinks I'm menopausal."
"You're too young for that."
Deedee shot a look at Frankie. "Yeah, I know."
"Still, I might be able to help you."
Deedee glanced in the direction of the men. "Excuse me, gentlemen, this is a private conversation." She closed the door and locked it. "Okay, Muffin, I'm listening."
* * * * *
A regal Annabelle Standish stood at the wet bar in the study of her Georgian mansion and poured her best brandy into two snifters. She wore a satin dressing gown and bedroom slippers, but her hair and makeup looked as fresh as it had when she'd walked out of the house that morning. At fifty-seven, her face was as smooth as a thirty-year-old's, thanks to the daily beauty regimen she followed, which included a brisk walk each morning after her first cup of coffee. Her husband had been dead a good ten years now, but she had never remarried. She filled her days with luncheons and dinner parties and, of course, her charity work.
She handed one of the brandy snifters to Phillip. "Are you okay?"
He didn't respond. Instead, he raised his glass to his lips and drained it.
"That's an insult to good brandy, Phillip. You're supposed to sip it slowly. One would think you'd been raised on Wild Turkey."
"What time is it?" he asked, obviously ignoring her.
"It's only ten minutes later than the last time you asked." Annabelle's look softened. "Why don't you try to rest? I'll listen for the telephone."
"I should have made Jamie stay here. I should have insisted."
"It wouldn't have done any good, Phillip. That girl has a mind of her own, and there's no budging her once she makes a decision. I can't complain, though, because I'm just like her. What I don't understand is why she spends so much time with that Fontana woman."
"They're best friends."
Annabelle sniffed. "Well, once I introduce her into nice society, Jamie will make new friends, Lord help us."
"Stop acting like a snob, Mother. Frankie and Deedee Fontana are fine people."
"Well, I know that, son, but they aren't—" She paused.
"Up to snuff?" Phillip said.
"That's not at all what I meant."
"You know what your problem is, Mother?" he said. "You do everything you can to help the less fortunate, but your standards are way up there when it comes to choosing your friends and acquaintances."
"You're being unfair to me, Phillip. I care just as much about this town as your friend Frankie Fontana. The only difference is I was making progress long before he showed up with his redheaded wife and built that god-awful house that I don't mind telling you is an embarrassment to this town. Wouldn't surprise me if that wife of his wallpapered it in red satin. That's what happens when people have more money than they do common sense. I only hope she'll try to tone down that hair before the wedding." Annabelle took a sip of her drink. "Speaking of that family, what do you know about this Max Holt person other than what we've read in the newspaper?"
Phillip stood and walked toward the wet bar where he poured another drink. "I'm having trouble getting a fix on the guy. He's very private. I know he's assisting Frankie in the tax-fund investigation, but that's about all I know."
"Well, he spends entirely too much time with Jamie, if you ask me. It doesn't look good for an engaged woman to be in the company of another man. Won't be long before the rumors start flying." She sniffed. "The fact they're both missing is certain to start tongues wagging."
"I'm more concerned about Jamie's safety right now than I am local gossip," Phillip said. "Besides, I trust Jamie."
"Well, of course you do. It's not Jamie I'm worried about. Mr. Holt has quite a reputation with the ladies from what I understand. I fear he'll take advantage of her.
"I hope she settles down after your marriage," Annabelle continued. "Perhaps I can get her involved in my work."
"Jamie will never give up that newspaper," Phillip replied. "She's determined to make it what it was when her grandfather ran it. Before her father made a mess of everything."
Annabelle looked thoughtful. "She might sell if somebody offered her enough money."
"I see the gears turning in your head already, Mother. You need to stay out of it and let Jamie do what she likes best."
"You don't understand, son. There is nothing more satisfying than helping someone in need. The Standish women have never worked for a paycheck. We don't need the money, and it won't look right for your wife to be working sixty hours a week. Folks will think you can't take care of her. Of course that will be an unnecessary consideration if she decides to take up with this Max fellow."
Phillip gave a weary sigh. "Go to bed, Mother, before you give yourself a migraine. I'll worry about Jamie."
* * * * *
Jamie was awakened by a sound far off in the distance. A helicopter. No doubt, it was searching for them. She sat up. Max was in the process of covering the fire with dirt. He looked pensive.
The chopper grew closer. Without a word, Jamie stood and tried to brush the wrinkles from her clothes. She shook her blanket and folded it. They were being rescued. So why was she feeling sad?
"Uh, Max?"
He looked up. "Yeah?"
It was impossible to read his expression. Jamie wondered what he was thinking. "About last night."
"You didn't do anything wrong, Jamie. I started the whole thing. Forget it."
"Forget it? Is that all you have to say?"
He stood and walked closer. "You've got your entire life mapped out to the nth degree. You've obviously thought it through carefully, and I respect that." He sighed and wiped his hand down his face. "I need to finish the job I started and go home."
Jamie nodded. Max was being noble. It was the right th
ing to do, and he was doing it. No doubt he'd spent much of the night thinking about it, just as she had. "Yes," she agreed. "It is the right thing to do."
Chapter Ten
The pilot set the chopper down near the boat landing. Max and Jamie waited until the blades stopped turning before they climbed out. Deedee was the first to greet them.
"I've been worried sick," she said, hugging Jamie, then Max. "Eeyeuuw, you guys smell like swamp water."
Jamie saw Phillip, waiting, the relief in his eyes palpable. She went to him. He hugged her tightly against him. "I haven't slept all night for worrying about you," he said. "You don't know what a relief it was when Lamar called and said you were okay. But why in God's name would you go out to Swamp Dog's place?"
Jamie knew he was still upset over the fact she'd been missing. "Two attempts were made on my life, Phillip. Deedee and Frankie's house was set on fire. You were there to witness it. What do you expect me to do, just look the other way and end up with a bullet in my back?"
"That's why we have the law, Jamie. You have absolutely no business getting involved in an investigation. When did you become a cop?"
She touched his cheek. "I'm safe, Phillip. Let's talk about it later."
"I'm sorry. You look exhausted. I'll bet you didn't sleep a wink last night."
"Actually, I slept better than I thought I would. Max kept watch so I could rest."
"Let's go home," Deedee said. "We're all exhausted. I don't know about the rest of you, but I need a nap, and Max and Jamie are probably starving."
"Actually, Jamie caught enough fish for a small army," Max said.
Phillip looked from one to the other. "Sounds like a scene straight out of Robinson Crusoe. I never knew my bride-to-be was so adventuresome."
Jamie gave him an odd look. "What's wrong with you?" she whispered.
Phillip pulled her aside. "What's going on with you two? How's it going to look to everybody that you spent the night with Max Holt? I understand he's quite the legend when it comes to women."
"We had no choice," Jamie said. "Our boat capsized. I was more concerned about staying alive than I was what the gossipmongers might say."