Sweet Jayne (21 page)

But since I don’t know which it is, I’m stuck teetering on the edge of sanity until I have more of an idea of what’s going on in his head.

A bang on the door startles me from finishing up the dinner dishes and I quickly dry my hands on a towel. Fear threatens to swallow me up alive. If it’s Kasper, here against Logan’s wishes, I’ll have a meltdown. I have a good mind not to even answer the door.

The banging is relentless and irritation courses through me. “¡Calmate!”

Of course whoever it is, won’t hold their fucking horses and continues their beat down of the door. When I finally wrench it open, my whole world crashes down on top of me.

“My baby.”

The lonely ache in my chest is soothed upon seeing him. The ever present grip on my heart loosens and I let out a choked exhalation.

His hardened features light up as he assess me. Like every time I would come bounding into his presence. Making sure I’m okay. Studying my smiles and my frowns as if they unlock the mysteries inside my head. He’s always been able to read me better than anyone in the entire world. While he’s staring at me as if I’m a mist that might suddenly dissipate, I’m drinking up his handsome face and inhaling his familiar masculine scent. The other day I hadn’t looked at him properly. Everything was a blur. It was too risky. But tonight, I want to freeze time so I can simply stare. So I can make up for three years lost.

He’s regarding me as if I’m his entire world. As if no time has passed at all. It’s heartbreaking and relieving all at once. Donovan Jayne hasn’t changed a bit. And thank God for that.

“Donovan,” I gasp, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to get you the hell out of this place, sunshine.”

He takes a step toward me but I hold up both hands. Reality snatches me from my frozen dream world and a shiver of fear courses through me. “Please do not come any farther.”

His silvery blue eyes are narrowed as he assesses my face, his gaze lingering for a moment on my lips. It twists up my mind and starts to pull at the thread that’s keeping my sanity tied together. “Then come out here.”

I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to the camera and then turn back to him. “Just one moment, Donovan. You have one minute with me.”

His sigh of relief crushes me. “No amount of time will ever be enough.”

I step out and close the door behind me. My lip quivers as I attempt to keep my emotions in check. As soon as I’ve come onto the porch, he pulls me into a forceful hug. Being crushed in his loving embrace is painful both to my broken body and my broken spirit.

“Come home with me,” he begs against my hair as he strokes my back with firm circles.

Oh God, how I wish.

I suck in a comforting breath of his scent, wondering if I can keep it in my lungs forever, and shake my head. “I can’t.”

He growls at my answer but doesn’t release me. “Don’t you miss this? Don’t you miss us? What’s really going on?”

I have answers but I’m not ready for him to hear them yet. “Shhh, can you just trust that I know what I’m doing?”

With a huff, he pulls away to stare down at me. His hands cradle my face and he runs his thumb over my wobbling lip. I’m glad for the darkness on the porch hiding my secrets from him. I can’t have him peeling apart the edges when I’m so close to my goal. Just this once, I need him to let
me
take care of things.

“I trust that you still love me,” he says with his air of confidence I so love.

“You always were good at trusting your gut,” I chuckle and poke his hard stomach.

He smiles at me but it quickly fades. It’s then I notice he’s not the usual unflappable man I know. His shirt is wrinkly. He’s slightly scruffy as if he hasn’t shaved in days. Completely disheveled and not at all like him. It kills me knowing he’s like this because of me.

“I tried to stay away,
for you
. To let you follow whatever it was you were after. But…” he trails off and flicks his tortured eyes to meet mine. “I couldn’t not come see you again once I knew you were here. You’re so close, yet still so far away. I’m selfish and I want you back where you belong. With me.”

He smiles again before his lips descend upon mine. The air is stolen right from my mouth as he kisses me passionately. Donovan Jayne owns my mouth with the possession of a man who’s been starved for three long years. He marks me with his scent and taste. And all I can do is try not to float away. I’m reminded of what I’ve lost. Of what I may not have ever again if I don’t see this plan to fruition. I’m terrified this kiss may be our last.

“Do you remember Vegas? That first time, baby?” he says, his words poking holes in my heart, before his lips trail along my cheek and down my throat.

I tangle my fingers into his hair as he places soft kisses near my ear. A small moan escapes me and I close my eyes.

“I remember it fondly.”

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Donovan says as he works the knot on his tie. “When I get out, let’s talk about what happened today. I want to help you remember.”

I nod and he disappears into the bathroom. Today was mentally taxing. It’s been years since Kasey was taken but not one single day goes by when I don’t think about her. Not one second passes when I don’t try to find clues as to who could have stolen her. Donovan has come through for me considerably. He’s become just as obsessed as I am about finding her.

Mamá still lives in the house but he’s long since moved into one of the fancy suites at his lodge. The divorce wasn’t messy at all despite my mother’s unusual behavior and desire to end the marriage. It was almost as if both of them knew it was inevitable. She never loved Donovan like she loved my father. I think deep down she seems satisfied that she’s given me this opportunity.

By opportunity, she means someone to take care of me. A father figure.

But I don’t need anyone to take care of me. Not in the way you’d think. I want him to use his resources to help me find the seventeen-year-old girl from my past. He tells me he has his own reasons for helping me and I am forever grateful.

While Donovan showers, I stride over to my suitcase to hunt for something to sleep in. We’d flown to Vegas to see the country’s best hypnotherapist. It had cost Donovan thousands of dollars for her services on a whim and he didn’t bat an eye when he handed over the stack of hundreds to the greedy old lady. And while she attempted to hypnotize me so I could search for answers that my brain had somehow locked up, he sat beside me and held my hand firmly.

His support has meant everything to me.

At twenty-three-years old, I don’t feel much like his stepdaughter. More like his partner. When I was in college, we Skyped nearly every day. And now that I’m moved back to Aspen, we see each other all the time. I see and speak to him more than anybody else.

I frown as I dig through my suitcase. I’d thought I’d packed some pajamas, but apparently in my haste to meet with the hypnotherapist, I hadn’t packed properly. With a huff, I peel off my jeans and sweater, tossing them into my suitcase. Next, I free my heavy breasts from my bra and then make my way over to Donovan’s suitcase to steal something of his. I find a white sleeveless undershirt and pull it on. Since he’s so gigantic, it fits like a dress hitting me mid-thigh. Once I’m dressed, I crawl back onto one of the queen beds and lie back. Closing my eyes, I attempt to bring back that day. As each day passes, it seems as if the past becomes darker and less clear. Nothing sticks out to me.

“I was thinking tomorrow we could do a little gambling. I know we came here on business but we can still find time for pleasure,” he says in an absent tone as he saunters out of the bathroom.

My eyes pop open. He’s looking at his phone as he talks to me. I’ve known Donovan since I was seventeen and have never really seen him in anything except business attire. In fact, I tease him that his suits are physically attached to him. Even when he “dresses down” he wears a button-up, crisp, long-sleeved shirt. I’ve never seen him in anything less than professional.

So that’s why now, I’m having trouble breathing.

More of those foreign thoughts enter my brain as I greedily drink him up. He’s turned to the side reading an email or something, wearing nothing but a white hotel towel tied low and loose on his hips. The swell of his ass is perfection and I bite my lip to keep from letting an appreciative groan escape me. His body is all chiseled curves and definition from many years of working out. And his smooth dark hair, for once, is a wild, wet mess on top of his head. Water rivulets drip from his hair and roll down the flesh of his chest in such a way that has me thirsty—so damn thirsty.

He may have tried to put a wedge between us after our whole phone sex fiasco, but I wouldn’t let him. Nothing like that has happened since and I don’t mention it ever. Instead, I behave as if it never occurred because I can’t afford to lose my best friend that way. Together, we slipped right back into being comfortable around one another. Well, I still crave more from him but never try.

I sit up on my elbows to take a better look, despite the trouble I know it’ll bring. My heart gallops in my chest as a million perverted thoughts run through my head. I’m still lusting after him when suddenly, his inner forearm is revealed to me. All thoughts of dirty sex with my stepfather drain from me as the tattoo unlocks something in my head. Scrambling from off the bed, I all but run to him. His eyes widen in shock when I grab his wrist and pull his arm to where I can look at it properly.

“Nadia,” he murmurs, his voice sounding pained. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

I tear my gaze from his flesh to meet his heated stare. His pupils are dilated and I like what’s reflected in them. Hunger and desire.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” I tell him and a shiver ripples through me as his eyes fall to my lips. “Do you?”

He steps closer to me, almost as if he can’t help himself, and I’m enveloped by his clean scent. “I, uh…” he trails off and tosses his phone into his suitcase. “No, I don’t mind.”

I flash him a grateful smile and then go back to inspecting his tattoo—a tattoo that I never knew he even had. My thumb skims over the name. “Who’s Taylor?”

His swallow is audible and I drag my gaze back up to his face. He frowns at me, sadness morphing his features into something heartbreaking. Needing to comfort him, I slip a hand to his cheek and run my thumb along his recently shaven flesh.

“He was my brother.”

The sadness takes years off his age and it causes an ache in my chest.

“How did he die? How come you’ve never mentioned him to me before?” I question.

His hand finds my wrist and he tugs it from his face. “It’s a long story,” he says dejectedly.

I blink up at him in confusion. “So tell me. He was your brother and I’m just now finding out about this. I thought we talked to each other about everything.”

He closes his eyes and groans. “I know, honey. I’m sorry. I don’t talk about him to anyone.”

“Talk to
me
,” I say softly and step closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Please.”

He stiffens at first but soon, his strong arms gather me to him. His nose is in my hair as he inhales me. “Jesus, Nadia,” he says with a grumble. “You make my life really fucking difficult, you know that?”

I laugh and tilt my head to look up at him. His cock hardens between us and I try not to shiver. Instead, I pretend that I don’t notice. “I like being difficult. It keeps you on your toes. Now tell me.”

He lets out a sigh but absently begins stroking my hair as his eyes dance away from me as if he’s getting lost in a memory. “He loved her. Kasey.”

A memory of her telling me I reminded her of Taylor surfaces in my mind. “Your Taylor was her Taylor?” I ask in astonishment. “I had no idea.”

“They were in love. Hell, I’m pretty sure he took her virginity when she was just fourteen,” he says with a rueful smile. “Of course he was eighteen and that was stupid, but my brother did what he wanted to, especially when it came to Kasey.”