Last Bridge Home (6 page)

“What size are they?” she asked numbly.

“Eight,” Jon said. Gunner gestured to the shoe rack on the floor. “And size seven shoes. Right?”

“Right.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the pink cable-knit sweater on the hanger directly in front of her. Panic was swirling through her and her heart was pounding so hard she thought it would burst through her breast. An drew moved uneasily, jerking her to her senses. She mustn’t get upset, she told herself, just breathe deeply.

“Beth.” Jon was standing beside her, his gaze fixed warily on her face. “What’s wrong?”

She laughed shakily. “Nothing at all. What could possibly be wrong? I’m involved with ruthless government agents, and I have an idea you two could be just as ruthless. I’m drowning in intrigue and secrets, and I don’t understand a damn thing.”

“You’ll understand everything soon. I promise”.

“You’ve said that before.” She whirled to face him. “When?”

He hesitated. “After the child is born. Does that satisfy you?”

“No, it doesn’t, but it will have to do. I’ll be darned if I’ll let myself suffer a case of nerves
that might endanger my son.” She riffled through the clothes until she found a loose velour caftan in a soft rose shade and pulled it from the hanger. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower and change.” She moved swiftly toward the door Gunner had indicated. “I’ll be downstairs in thirty minutes, and An drew and I would appreciate something to eat.”

As the door closed firmly behind her Gunner looked inquiringly at Jon. “Andrew?”

“The baby.”

“Oh.” Gunner’s thoughtful gaze returned to the door. “She’s taking all this very well considering the circumstances. She’s very strong.”

“Stronger than she knows,” Jon said. “Her life hasn’t been easy, but she’s never really been tested.” He turned wearily toward the door. “She will be soon.”

“M
AY
I
HELP?”

Gunner smiled as he looked up from the on ions he was sautéing at the stove. “Don’t you dare. There’s a certain slapdash pizzazz to the art of cooking that suits my temperament admirably. I enjoy the hell out of it.” His deep blue eyes studied her critically. “You look more relaxed. The shower must have done you a lot of good.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “You mean besides making me more socially acceptable? It did help. I love the feel of warm water pouring over me. Where’s Jon?”

“Outside on the deck.” His gaze returned to the frying pan. “Dinner will be ready in about
twenty minutes. I hope Andrew likes steak and onions.”

“We’re both crazy about them. Are you sure I can’t do anything?”

Gunner shook his head. “Go into the living room and put your feet up in front of the fire. I want you nice and serene when Jon sees you next. He ripped me apart verbally for my unorthodox appearance on the scene. He thought I frightened you.”

“You did. I was sure you were going to break your neck.”

“There was the slightest possibility I wasn’t in complete control,” he admitted with a grin. “Next time I’ll do better. I didn’t mean to worry you. I had this vision of flying down the mountain like an eagle and impressing you with my daring.”

“Well, you certainly succeeded,” she said, smiling. “Though I don’t know why you would go to the trouble.”

“Why shouldn’t I want to impress you? You’re Jon’s lady and he—” He broke off and was silent for a moment, avoiding her shocked gaze. “I have an idea I’m in for another tongue-lashing from my honorable commandant. For get I said that, will you?”

“I’m not Jon Sandell’s … lady. You must have misunderstood something he said,” she
said haltingly. “1 was married to his cousin, Mark.”

He glanced up, and a brilliant smile lit up his tanned face. “You’re right. I probably misunderstood. Now, run along and rest.”

He was trying to distract her and make her forget his incredible verbal slip. Elizabeth was sure that behind Gunner’s boisterous, careless charm lay a man who made very few mistakes. However, the alternative was that Jon Sandell had indicated he thought of her in terms of… She couldn’t complete the thought, as hot color flushed her cheeks and stung through her veins. It couldn’t be true. He was Mark’s cousin, for goodness’ sake. Yet there had been a thread of puzzling antagonism in his manner when he spoke of Mark, and a queer electric awareness sparked between them since the moment he had come down the steps of the cottage yesterday afternoon. The way she had tingled when she had looked at him in the kitchen … No! If she had experienced any sexual attraction, it must have been a reflection of what Jon Sandell was feeling. Oh, Lord, that didn’t make sense either. In her present condition, her sex appeal was non-existent. “I believe it’s time I had a discussion with Jon. You say he’s on the deck?”

He nodded gloomily. “I was afraid you
wouldn’t let it pass. I guess I’d better hold dinner for another thirty minutes.”

“It might be wise.”

“My jacket is in the hall closet. Put it on before you go outside. I’m going to be in enough trouble without letting you stalk out there and risk pneumonia.”

“I don’t stalk. It’s much too melodramatic, and I’m very careful about running any risk at all these days. I particularly refuse to risk mental stress when I can probably straighten out the situation with a few minutes of con versation.” She smiled fleetingly. “Andrew doesn’t like me to be upset.”

“Neither does Jon. Which means I’m due to catch hell. Tell them both I’m profoundly sorry.” He sighed. “That’s certainly bloody well true.”

A smile was still lingering on Elizabeth’s lips as she slipped Gunner’s warm suede coat on over her caftan. Her smile vanished, however, when she opened the front door and caught sight of Jon standing with his back to her staring out into the darkness. A light snow was beginning to fall, and a few glittering flakes were captured in the sable darkness of his hair. For the first time since she had met him, he looked totally relaxed. “Jon.”

He whirled toward her, an expression of wariness on his face that hurt her in the same
strange way his careless words had earlier in the truck. He was so terribly guarded, every movement charged with painful intensity. She had a sudden desire to soothe away the wariness, hold him until he felt safe and … Good Lord, what was she thinking? Jon Sandell needed protection less than any man she’d ever met. She closed the door behind her. “I want to talk to you.”

He relaxed. “Fine. We’d better go inside, it’s too cold out here for you.”

“No. This will only take a moment. I need the fresh air.” And the darkness. The question she had to ask him was embarrassing enough without having to face his keen dark eyes. She crossed to stand beside him. “The snow isn’t falling very fast, is it? Maybe the Weather Bureau was wrong about the storm.”

“Perhaps.”

She could feel his gaze on her face, and her hands closed tightly on the rough wood of the railing. “I know what I’m going to ask you is silly. It’s all probably some idiotic misunderstanding, but I’m one of those people who can’t rest until they have everything crystal clear.” His face was a shadowy blur, but his stance revealed the same leashed tension she had heard in his voice. She was speaking with bulletlike rapidity, the words tumbling feverishly
over each other. “If you’ll just explain what Gunner meant, I’m sure it will—”

“Just what did Gunner say? I can hardly ex plain something away, if I don’t know what it is.”

“He called me … your lady.”

He muttered a curse beneath his breath.

“I knew it was a mistake,” she rushed on quickly. “I just didn’t want to have it nagging at me.”

“It’s no mistake.”

She turned to look at him. “What?” she whispered.

“The only mistake was Gunner’s damn lack of discretion. I should have known he’d blow it.”

“But he said—”

“That you’re my lady? It’s quite true. You are my lady, though I wouldn’t have phrased it in just that fashion. Gunner’s people have a rather simplistic view of the man-woman relationship. Still, the elemental fact exists that you do belong to me.” He paused. “As I belong to you.”

She shook her head dazedly. “This is in sane. I just met you yesterday. We don’t know anything about each other.”

“I know everything about you.”

“From Mark’s letters? He couldn’t have told you more than some basic facts.” She laughed
shakily. “And I can hardly believe that letters concerning someone as mundane as me would trigger any fantasies.”

“I know everything about you,” he repeated. “And I try not to fantasize about you at all. It disturbs me too much.”

She couldn’t breathe; the hot tingling in the pit of her stomach caused a muscular clenching that shocked her. No, she couldn’t feel de sire. It was something else. Not desire. Fear, amazement, anger. Not sexual hunger. Sex. The thought sent another shock jolting through her. Sex was a warm gentle river, not a rough, turbulent riptide. Sex was golden, kind Mark, not Jon Sandell. “No, Mark …”

“Mark is dead.” Jon’s words were harsh. “And if he wasn’t, it still wouldn’t matter. He had his turn. You’re mine now.”

“You keep saying that. I don’t belong to any one but myself.” She ran her fingers distractedly through her hair. “And it’s not true. I loved Mark. I don’t love you.”

“You will,” he said with calm certainty.

“How can you be so sure? You may think you know everything about me, but I know nothing about you. Right now, I don’t even think I like you very much.”

“That’s natural. I’m blasting you out of the complacent cocoon you’ve woven about
yourself and Andrew. You’re bound to resent it.”

“I’m glad you’re so understanding of my psychological quirks,” she said tartly. “Freud, I presume?”

“Dzatskan, actually.” For an instant there was a hint of humor in his voice. “But I didn’t need his theories to tell me about you, Beth. We fit. You realize that as well as I do.”

“No.” Her voice was shaking. “You’re not the kind of man I could ever care about. You’re not…”

“Mark?” he finished for her. His hands suddenly gripped her shoulders with barely re strained violence. “For God’s sake, give me a chance. I’ll be better for you than Mark could ever have been.”

“If you mean sex, there are other elements in a relationship I value more highly.”

“I didn’t mean sex. I’m talking about love, companionship, and everything that makes two people one.”

“How can you talk about something we don’t have? We’re
strangers
, dammit.”

“We’re not…” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “I can’t convince you, can I? Okay. Let’s talk about the one aspect of our relation ship even you can’t deny. Let’s talk about sex.”

“I don’t want to talk to you about any of this. I think I’ll go inside.”

“No, you started this discussion. Do you think I wouldn’t have preferred to wait until you knew me better before we reached this point? I could have lied to you, but there’s enough standing between us without that. I won’t let anything stand between us from now on. Not even your fears. You may doubt our compatibility on every other level, but you know you’re as sexually attracted to me as I am to you. Physically we’re absolutely perfect for each other. There aren’t another two people in a million who are as well suited sexually as we are.”

“How can you know that’s true? Do you have a crystal ball?”

He laughed mirthlessly. “Close. It doesn’t matter how I know. All that matters is that you believe me. Sex between us will be absolutely incredible. It wouldn’t matter if you hated my guts, I’d still be able to please you sexually.”

“I
don’t
believe you,” she said fiercely. “I’m not the animal you think I am. I can’t separate sex and love.”

“Can’t you?”

“No.” She tugged futilely at his hands on her shoulders. Her throat was tight with emotion and she could barely get the words out. “Let me go. I can’t stay here …”

“I won’t let you go. I can’t let you go. You’re a part of me. Shall I tell you what I want to do
with you right now? I want to take you to bed and lose myself in you. I want you as naked and hungry as I am.”

“You’re crazy. I’m about to have a child.”

“It doesn’t make any difference. I’d take care not to hurt you or the baby. I could show you roads to pleasure you didn’t know existed. Ways you were meant to travel only with me.”

“Will you shut up! You’re
frightening
me.” The tears that were brimming in her eyes overflowed and ran down her cheeks. “I don’t want to travel new roads. I don’t want to be here in this strange house. I want to be home and safe and—”

He went still. “You’re crying.” His right hand left her shoulder and his fingers gently touched her cheek. “Oh, Lord, I didn’t mean to upset you. Sometimes I get so damned frustrated I strike out at what’s nearest, and there’s no one nearer to me than you. Near to my heart, and my soul, and what I am.” His arms enfolded her and his cold jaw pressed against her tear-stained cheek. He stroked her hair soothingly. “Forget it. I’m only a clumsy, blundering soldier who should know better than to put you through this right now.”

The change in his demeanor from violent passion to paternal tenderness was as bewildering as what had preceeded it. Yet there was no doubting his sincerity. The web of tenderness
in which he enveloped her was almost tangible, soothing her with the same tactile gentleness as his hand on her hair. She laughed shakily. “Forget it? How can I forget it?”