She paled and Jonas instantly flayed himself mentally for his loss of temper. She had been through a lot tonight and she had every right to her suspicions.
“If you feel that way about me, I’m surprised you were so eager to go to bed with me,” Verity whispered.
He swore softly and reached out, capturing her before she could slide away. Deliberately he overcame her brief struggles and pinned her close against him, his face in her hair.
“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean that. I should have kept my damn mouth shut.”
He could smell himself on her, Jonas realized as he pulled her close. The acrid scent combined with the lingering fragrance of her feminine arousal made him pulsatingly conscious of the claim he had staked tonight. He could not yet explain to Verity the mental bond that linked them or why he needed her to preserve his sanity. She wouldn’t believe him, let alone understand what he was trying to say. All he could do was reinforce the physical and emotional bonds he had forged tonight. And there were definitely such bonds between them whether she wanted to admit it or not. She would never have gone to bed with him if she hadn’t wanted him very badly.
Hell, he told himself encouragingly, the woman had waited twenty-eight years to go to bed with a man. Surely she must have felt something very powerful for him.
“Jonas, I feel like I’ve been through a wringer. I don’t know what to think.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.
He clenched his hands in the wonderful fire of her hair. “I know, honey. I didn’t handle this very well. I should have told you who I was right from the start. But you wouldn’t have believed me then, either. In fact, you probably would have been even more suspicious of me if I’d shown up on your doorstep and announced I’d followed you from Mexico. I didn’t know how to play it, so I tried to keep things low-key. I wanted us to get to know each other. Was that so wrong?”
“No, I suppose not, but I still don’t know what to believe. It’s all very strange.”
“It will look a lot less strange in the morning,” he assured her. “I promise. You’re just shook up now because you’ve been through a brand-new experience tonight and you’re still coming to terms with it.” The new sexual experience was only part of the package, he thought. Wait until she realized that she hadn’t been hallucinating earlier when she’d entered that psychic corridor. But he’d leave that for another time.
“Does it take a lot to come to terms with the experience of going to bed with someone?” she demanded tartly, sounding more like her old self.
Jonas winced. “I didn’t exactly make your first time a fantasy come true, did I? I was in a rush and I was clumsy.
It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been to bed with a woman, and maybe I…Never mind. Let’s just say I’m aware I made a hash of things.”
Her head came up so quickly Jonas almost got his chin cracked. Her eyes appeared very wide and deep and feminine in the darkness.
“Jonas, you mustn’t think that. I thought your lovemaking was very,” she paused, obviously searching for the right word, “interesting,” she finished quite earnestly.
“Interesting?” Jonas stared at her, chagrined, and then his sense of humor kicked in. He hugged her fiercely for a few seconds. “That’s my Verity. Honest to the core. Interesting, huh? Thanks, boss. You really know how to bolster the old male ego.”
“But, Jonas,” she went on hesitantly.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I really don’t understand the rest of this. It’s very hard for me to believe you actually followed me all this way just because you caught a glimpse of me that night outside the cantina. Men just don’t do things like that in this day and age, regardless of what they might have done four hundred years ago in the Renaissance. And this business of having my father show up unexpectedly is unsettling, too. I want some time to think about everything.”
Jonas stilled. He didn’t like the idea of giving Verity a lot of time to think. On the other hand, he didn’t see what else he could do under the circumstances. “We’ll talk more in the morning,” he temporized. He found her breast beneath the sheet she insisted upon clutching. When he touched her nipple he felt it harden instantly. “Plenty of time in the morning,” he muttered, his voice growing thicker as his body flamed into awareness. She was so soft and sweet, he thought. And she belonged to him now. So damn sexy. He’d really lucked out. For the first time in five years, he had finally lucked out.
“Jonas...”
“I’ll do it right this time,” he vowed. “We’ll take it easy. Lots of time. No rush. I swear I won’t hurt you. You’ll see. This time it’s going to be so good between us.”
“Jonas, I think you should leave now.”
He blinked, dazed. “Leave?”
She pushed herself away from him and stood up with the sheet twisted modestly around her. “I can’t figure out what’s going on here. I need time to think. I told you that.”
“Save your thinking for tomorrow, sweetheart,” he tried persuasively.
She smiled grimly in the shadows. “That’s a typically male piece of advice. I think I’ve already done enough tonight without thinking about it first. I need some time to myself. Good night, Jonas.”
“Fifteen minutes ago, you were begging me to make love to you again,” he reminded her bluntly.
“That was fifteen minutes ago. I’ve changed my mind. It’s a woman’s right. I want you to leave, Jonas.”
“Verity, this is crazy. You can’t kick me out now.”
She tilted her head curiously. Verity ran her own life. She was not accustomed to the notion that she could not run it the way she wished. “Why not?”
He shot to his feet, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Why not? Dammit, nothing has changed. You want me and I want you. We’ve already made love once. There’s no reason we shouldn’t spend the night together.” He was rock hard and ready for her. More than anything else on the face of the earth he wanted to lay her down and sheath himself in her again.
But she was busy throwing him out.
“Good night, Jonas.” She walked to the door and opened it. The sheet trailed behind her like a royal train. Once again it occurred to him that when she was at her most haughty, Verity reminded him vaguely of someone else.
“Dammit, Verity…” But it was useless to argue with her. He could see that now. Reluctantly he yanked on his pants, aware that he had lost this round. As he picked up his shirt the earring tinkled again. He reached down and scooped it up off the floor and dropped it into his pocket. “This is stupid.” He tried one last, weak excuse: “It’s not fair to make me face your father alone. He’s going to have a good idea of what happened here tonight. What am I supposed to say to him?”
Verity smiled her first real smile since she had found the earring. It was a smile of glittering secret amusement. “My father will be thrilled. He has been worrying for the past five years that I’m gay.”
Jonas discovered he was on the edge of losing his temper all over again. The little tyrant was baiting him now. “He’s a father. Somehow, I’m not so sure he’ll be all that delighted to know I’ve just screwed his precious virgin daughter.”
“Ex-virgin,” she stated proudly, as if taking personal credit for the transformation.
What remained of Jonas’s temper went up in smoke. As usual when he got very angry, his voice got very quiet. He showed his adversary a lot of teeth in a savage smile. “Ex-virgin is right,” he said. “Thanks to me. Remember that, lady. You didn’t manage your new status all by yourself. You needed me to do the job. Having done it very thoroughly, I intend to claim a reward. I deserve it.”
He stalked to the door and out into the night before Verity could respond to the harsh words. The door was slammed shut behind him with enough force to echo through the trees.
His red-haired tyrant was angry.
br />
Well, so was he, Jonas thought vengefully. Things had started out smoothly enough this evening, but they had wound up disastrously. The fact that he had no one to blame but himself did not alleviate his mood one bit.
The lights were off in the cabin when he reached it. He opened the door and saw the dark shape on the bed. So much for flipping a coin to see who got the sleeping bag. Possession was nine-tenths of the law.
There was no sound from Emerson Ames. Jonas was grateful. He didn’t feel like making explanations for his prolonged absence. Emerson was no fool.
Jonas unrolled the old, musty-smelling sleeping bag he had found in a closet and stripped off his clothes. He was sliding into the bag when Emerson’s sleepy voice came from the direction of the bed.
“You’re back earlier than I expected. What happened? Did my daughter kick you out of bed?”
Jonas swallowed an oath and decided to evade the question. “Your daughter reminds me of someone, Emerson.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve often thought the same thing.”
“Yeah?” Jonas was intrigued in spite of himself. The elusive comparison had been haunting him for some time.
“Sure. I finally figured it out a few years ago. Think about it. It’ll come to you. Small, red-haired, sharp-tongued, acts like she’s royalty, especially around men. Smart as a whip and just as dangerous. Picture her in a white lace ruff.”
“Christ. The young Elizabeth the First.”
“You’ve got it,” Emerson said smoothly. “Watch out you don’t follow in the Earl of Essex’s shoes.”
Jonas remembered how England’s great Renaissance queen had sent Essex, a former court favorite, to the headsman. “It’s not my head I worry about when I’m around your daughter,” he told Emerson bluntly.
Ames chuckled. “I know. It’s your balls you’ve got to protect. A word of advice, pal. Old Liz the First could take care of herself. If nothing else, I like to think I’ve taught my daughter to do the same.”
“You did a good job,” Jonas grumbled. “Maybe too good a job.”
“Had to. When she’s doing her Elizabeth the First routine, she’s damn near invincible. But when she smiles…”
“I see what you mean,” Jonas said quietly. He folded his hands behind his head and stared up into the darkness. Verity’s smile was a double-edged sword. It could bring out a man’s latent gallant instincts, if he had any. It could make him long to prove himself worthy of her. But it could also tempt another kind of man to reach out and vandalize the alluring promise of sweet chastity and integrity. Verity’s smile made her vulnerable in ways she didn’t even dream.
“Good night, Quarrel. Whoever gets up first makes the coffee.”
Emerson rolled over and went back to sleep. Jonas stayed awake for a long time. When he finally fell asleep, his dreams were far from pleasant. He spent most of the night trying to catch Verity as she ran ahead of him down an endless corridor.
Verity woke very early the next morning and found it impossible to go back to sleep. It was going to be a long day.
When she slid slowly out of bed she discovered that all the small aches she had noticed after Jonas’s lovemaking had intensified during the night. Her inner thighs felt as if she had been riding a horse. The thought amused her briefly as she made her way into the shower.
The idea of putting a saddle and bridle on Jonas Quarrel was more than mildly humorous; it was downright interesting.
She felt better after the shower, but still not up to her normal morning standards. A glance at the clock told her that she had plenty of time before she had to go to work. Verity decided to head for the spa. What she really needed was a good, long soak in one of the hot mineral baths. She also needed some time to think. At this hour of the morning the baths would be nearly empty. Laura and Rick wouldn’t mind her using the facilities.
Verity dressed in her jeans and an old shirt, snagged her terry robe out of the closet, and headed for the Sequence Springs Spa.
The morning was cool and crisp and invigorating. By noon Sequence Springs would be pleasantly warm. In the distance the white-walled resort building gleamed in the bright sunlight. The lake was as still and reflective as a mirror. Here and there a small boat dented the perfect surface. A surreptitious glance toward the other cabin revealed no signs of life.
Typical of a man to be able to have no trouble sleeping after a night spent making love to a woman and then traumatizing her with wild tales of lost earrings.
Verity’s mouth tightened as she replayed the night’s events. She still felt dazed. Last night she had known a sense of certainty when she gave herself to Jonas. This morning she did not understand where that certainty had sprung from but she still felt it. She could not figure out why she was sure he was the man she had been waiting for all these years. The man had undoubtedly lied to her from the moment he appeared on her doorstep. Jonas’s tale was simply too crazy to be believed.
On the other hand, it was impossible to accept the conclusion that she had waited all this time to give herself to a man she could not trust. She had always prided herself on having a reliable sense of intuition. She could not have been that wrong about Jonas Quarrel.
Once again she reviewed his story. Men in this day and age didn’t set out on such quixotic quests, she told herself for the thousandth time. But she couldn’t think of any other explanation for Jonas’s actions, unless she had been right when she suspected some link with her father’s gambling debt. That possibility was frightening. She grappled with it the rest of the way to the spa.
The blue and white tiled bathing room that housed the women’s spa was, as Verity had expected, almost empty. Caitlin Evanger was lounging naked in one of the bubbling pools. Another woman hovered near the edge with a stack of towels.
“Hello,” Caitlin said pleasantly. “Another early riser, I see. Come and join me, Verity. We have the place to ourselves. I don’t believe you’ve met Tavi Monahan.” Caitlin’s sleek, gilded head turned slightly as she smiled briefly at the other woman. “Tavi is my friend and companion. She takes excellent care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without her. Tavi, this is Verity Ames, the owner of the restaurant I told you about.”
Verity smiled. “Nice to meet you, Tavi.”
Tavi nodded politely in greeting. “Miss Ames.” Her voice was gentle and calm, her eyes oddly serene.
Tavi’s hair was dark brown with the faintest hint of silver at the temples. She wore it parted in the middle and pulled back into a simple classic twist. There was a quiet elegance about her, Verity thought. She wore a pair of brown well-cut slacks and a cream-colored pullover that went well with her olive complexion and dark, veiled eyes. Those eyes, Verity decided, were eyes of a woman who could hold an infinite number of secrets.
“What got you out of bed so early, Verity?” Caitlin inquired politely. “Or do you always get up at the crack of dawn as I do?”
“I am an early riser but generally not this early.” Verity smiled again as she started toward one of the changing rooms. She wondered if Caitlin noticed any outward change in her, then chastised herself for the juvenile notion.
Halfway to the slatted booth she remembered she had forgotten to bring her bathing suit. She stopped.
“Something wrong?” Caitlin asked.
Verity cleared her throat. “No. I’ll be right back.” She went determinedly toward the booth, considering what had happened last night, it was probably high time she learned to lead a more daring lifestyle. The thought made her grin. She stepped into the booth, took off all her clothes, and returned to the pool wearing only a towel and a smile.
She tried to appear nonchalant as she walked back to the pool. This sense of awkwardness about displaying herself was the price she paid for never having attended high school gym classes, Verity decided ruefully. But she was determined to get over it.
She dropped her to
wel at the edge of the pool and stepped into the warm, foaming water. The mineral scent filled her nostrils. It felt very therapeutic. Just what she needed. Verity sighed and lounged back on the underwater seat.
“It’s a sign of anxiety, you know,” Caitlin remarked from the other side of the pool.
Verity arched her eyebrows. “What is?”
“Waking up too early and being unable to get back to sleep. It can be very disturbing.” Caitlin leaned her head against a towel Tavi had placed on the edge of the pool. She closed her eyes. “I have endured the problem for years. Night after night.”
“I’m sorry.” Verity wasn’t sure what to say. She felt a sudden welling of compassion for this strange woman. She sensed painful depths in her and wished she could offer comfort. “Have you, uh, seen a doctor?”
Caitlin’s eyes opened again and she looked at Verity with cold amusement. “There is no need to consult a therapist. I know exactly what is wrong with me. I’m aware of the source of the anxiety.”
“I see.” Jonas wasn’t the only one with ghosts in his eyes, Verity thought.
Caitlin lifted a hand out of the water in a dismissive gesture and then allowed it to drop back under the surface. “It’s not all bad, you know. I do some of my best work in the dawn hours. Isn’t that right, Tavi?”
“Yes, Caitlin.” Tavi’s voice was soft as she spoke to her employer. There was a trace of sadness in the words, but Caitlin seemed oblivious to it. Tavi stood motionless, holding the stack of towels. “Some of your best paintings have been completed just before dawn. But I’m not sure that the money you have made from them has been worth the price you’ve paid to finish them.”
Caitlin grimaced. “One of the reasons I have employed Tavi all these years is that she is unrelentingly honest with me. Honesty is a rare trait in this world.”
Verity thought of Jonas. “It’s nice to be able to trust the people one hires,” she said grimly.
Caitlin gave her a speculative glance. “Are you having problems with your new employee, Mr. Quarrel?”