The Unsung Hero (15 page)

"Love was the last thing she wanted, or
needed, from me." He almost spat the words. He seemed on the verge
of saying more, but then his mouth clamped shut and his jaw
tightened. "Look, can we please—"

"I know," she interrupted as lightly as she
could. "We went through this just the other day, remember?" Her
eyes seemed to burn as she glanced over at him. "End of subject.
Closed, period." She attempted a laugh, but it ended up a soft
sigh instead. "Now, am I a perceptive person or not?" Aware of
Jason's eyes on her, she rose and began to repack the hamper. Her
movements were mechanical, her mind a million miles away from what
she was doing. All this time she'd thought Jason didn't believe in
love—-her kind of love—-but he must have been in love with his wife
for him to react like this. The subject was a volatile one, that
much was clear. The most painful ones usually were, she realized
sadly. She knew from experience. She'd spent many a sleepless
night pondering what had gone wrong with her marriage, and it had
taken a long time to admit that she and Alan had never been right
for each other in the first place. He was sweet and kind, but he'd
never really been aware of her needs and her wants.

But she was convinced Jason's anger was only
a mask. Maybe he had never wanted the divorce to begin with. Maybe
he was secretly hoping that someday he and his ex-wife could get
back together. Maybe... She closed her eyes against the dagger of
thought. The possibilities were endless and she didn't want to
think of them.

"Samantha." He reached out and touched her
arm as she bent to shake the sand out of the blanket. "Don't take
this the wrong way."

She forced a smile but gently shook off his
touch. "I'm not," she said, folding the blanket.

"You are. I can see it in your eyes." This
time his fingers curled around her wrist in a grip that wouldn't be
denied. The blanket dropped to the ground as he pulled her back
down beside him. They faced each other on the sand, knees bent and
nearly touching. "My ex-wife doesn't mean a thing to me,
Samantha," he said fiercely. "Even in the beginning—"

"You don't have to explain, Jason." Her eyes
grew troubled as she looked up at him. He looked regretful, grim
and oddly determined. He opened his mouth but one of her hands
reached up to cover it. She hesitated, not sure how to explain. If
Jason had chosen to confide in her about the whys and wherefores of
his divorce when they had first met, she might have felt
differently. Even when she'd found out about his beautiful wife,
she hadn't wanted to think about her. She hadn't let herself think
about her. But as it stood right now, what she didn't know wouldn't
hurt her any more than she was hurting right now.

"Samantha." His hand reached up to cover hers
where it still lay against his mouth. He pressed a scalding kiss to
her palm before dropping it to his side, her fingers twined tightly
in his. "I'll admit I don't like talking about Natalie, but it's
not for the reason you think."

"Jason," she said, gently withdrawing her
hand and gathering all her courage, "I'm not...the sort of woman
you're usually attracted to, am I?"

She glanced up to find a look of surprise on
his face. "Exactly what kind of woman do you think that is?" he
asked in a moment.

"Oh, I don't know." She failed miserably in
matching his bantering tone. "The usual blond Hollywood bombshell
or long-legged dark-haired vixen." She could have cheerfully buried
her head in the sand when the words came out sounding strangely
like a wail. Indeed her gaze dropped, and she traced idle patterns
in the sand. A square. A circle. A tiny heart.

"I'm well acquainted with the type, yes. All
glitter and dazzle and not the slightest bit of warmth." Despite
the teasing tone, she suspected there was more than a grain of
truth in the words. "All shallow and empty-headed—" his voice
dropped suddenly, playing across her skin like the elusive brush
of a feather "—and all in the past." He lowered his voice even
further. "Actually, I think it's time I looked for a woman to
stimulate my intellect... and now that I've found her, there's only
one woman in my future from now on. Believe me, Samantha, glamour
and glitz doesn't have a thing on you."

Samantha nearly groaned. Swinging away from
him, she drew her knees up and watched a pair of gulls struggle
against a current of wind. "Jason, please!" She pushed her hair
back away from her face. "I'm serious. I'm not sophisticated or
worldly but I wasn't born yesterday. I don't fit the mold and we
both know it! Why are you even bothering with me?"

The words seemed to surprise Jason as much as
they did her. She glanced over and caught the tentative expression
on his face. But when he laughed, she could have cried.

"Do you have to ask?" A warm hand touched the
curve of her cheek and turned her face to him. "After an honest
forthright statement like that, do you really need to ask?" His
smile deepened. "But you're right, you're not like anyone I've ever
known before." His eyes touched on every facet of her features, his
eyes so warm and soft she felt her heart lurch in her chest.

His hand cupped her chin gently. "Do you
know how it feels to come outside after a spring rain and find the
sun shining brightly? It's like looking at the world after a gauzy
veil has been lifted, seeing everything through a fresh set of
eyes. Everything is bright and golden, glistening in the sun, and
the air is sweet and pure. That's the first thing I noticed about
you, Samantha. You're fresh and unspoiled, almost as innocent as
those children who helped us build the sandcastle. It's like—like
you haven't learned yet how harsh life can sometimes be."

But she had. She had known pain when her
father walked out on her and never came back. And later, when she'd
finally recognized that she and Alan could never make it together,
she had known hurt and despair, even a sense of failure. But she
listened intently, his husky voice blending with the almost
mesmerizing warmth of his eyes.

"It's been a long time since I've known
anyone like you," he finished softly, looking deeply into her eyes.
"Far too long."

Something inside her seemed to flower and
grow. The slanting golden rays of the sun touched his head. His
hair shone with dark luster, and she ached with the need to smooth
the wind-ruffled strands that fell on his forehead. Her hand lifted
to one broad shoulder and swayed toward him, her eyes soft and
luminous. "Jason..."

But whatever she might have said was never
spoken. The quiet moment of intimacy was broken when a bright
yellow Frisbee whizzed by, narrowly missing their heads. Jason
pulled his hand away from her face and sighed, casting a
disgruntled eye toward a pair of teenage boys. A reluctant smile
tipped his mouth as he got to his feet and extended a hand to her.
"How would you like to go for a drive?"

Samantha nodded. Even if she'd wanted to
refuse, she couldn't have said so. For in that moment when their
eyes had met so intently, the most amazing thought had come
crashing into her mind. She'd told herself over and over this past
week that a woman would have to be crazy to fall in love with a man
like Jason.

And she was definitely feeling a little bit
crazy.

The giddy feeling lasted while they picked
their way up the narrow trail that led from the beach. They
decided to drop off the hamper and blanket at Samantha's before
leaving.

"Whose car are we taking?" she asked.

"Not your little Volkswagen," Jason commented
dryly. "I don't care to have my knees wrapped around my shoulders
for the rest of my life."

"Oh, come on," she protested as they crossed
the patio. "It's not that bad, at least not in the front seat."

His eyes took on a sudden gleam. "Come to
think of it, the back seat doesn't sound so bad after all, except
I think we're getting a little old for that kind of thing."

His words inspired a vivid picture in her
mind of entwined limbs that sent her pulse racing. "Maybe we should
take your car instead," she muttered.

A low chuckle sounded behind her as Jason
opened the front door for her. "Sounding better and better all the
time," he murmured as she brushed by him.

Samantha laughed shakily but made no comment.
She looked back over her shoulder as he stopped near the entry way,
an odd look on his face. "What is it?" she asked.

He looked down at the doorknob. "Funny," he
said. "I could have sworn I saw you lock that door."

"I thought I did, too." With a shrug she went
on into the dining room and put the hamper on the table. She was
about to turn back to him when a blurring motion caught her
eye.

"Samantha! How are you, sweetheart?"

The next thing she knew a warm pair of arms
enfolded her in a snug hug and an equally warm kiss was pressed on
her mouth. When her head cleared she found Alan's delighted face
swimming in front of her eyes.

Something akin to shock washed through her.
Jason stiffened behind her, and she could sense his cold
disapproval. The feeling went through her like a razor-sharp
rapier, while Alan's laughing blue eyes danced before her. She
froze, wishing she could disappear into the earth below, but she
was caught between the two men like a mouse in a trap.

Alan finally looked over her shoulder at
Jason, a smile creasing his face. In his typical friendly manner,
he brushed by Samantha's still figure and thrust a hand into
Jason's, pumping it vigorously.

"Alan Monroe here," he greeted Jason
enthusiastically. "And you are... ?"

Samantha's eyes flitted to Jason's stern
face, her only movement so far. Never in her life had she seen
anyone who looked so coldly forbidding. He didn't even bother to
speak to Alan. Instead his icy gaze fixed itself on her. "Alan
Monroe," he repeated in a cutting tone. His eyes seemed to rake
over her. "Your— brother?"

Alan finally seemed to have noticed Jason's
cold reception. "Uh...not exactly." He retreated a step before the
taller man to stand at Samantha's side, casting her an
uncomfortably quizzical look.

Samantha swallowed. Alan was leaving it up to
her, as he rightly should. Oh, but to be a coward and run with her
tail between her legs!

Unfortunately, that wasn't one of her
choices.

She made a vague gesture between the two
men. "Alan, this is Jason Armstrong. Jason, this is Alan--" she
cleared her throat "--my ex-husband."

Chapter 8

The silence that followed was like a bomb
blast. "Your ex-husband," Jason finally repeated. "Somehow I don't
seem to recall you ever telling me you were once married." His
voice was chillingly polite as his gaze traveled from Alan to
Samantha and back again. "Do you mind telling me how you got in
here?" he finally asked Alan pointedly.

Samantha shivered at the contempt in his
eyes. She'd never seen Jason angry before, and from the harsh
expression on his face, she didn't think she'd ever want to see it
happen again. He looked very big and powerful, and yes, even rather
dangerous, as he leaned against the door frame of her dining
room.

Alan broke the uncomfortable silence. "Since
Sam wasn't here, I knew she wouldn't mind if I let myself in," he
said with an uneasy glance at Jason. "I used the key she gave me
when I stayed here last spring."

Samantha's heart sank to her feet. Of all the
things for Alan to say!

He seemed to have realized it, too. He
attempted a grin, ending up with a sickly looking smile at best.
"Sam wasn't here of course."

"Of course," Jason echoed coldly. He crossed
his arms over his muscular chest and looked directly at the shorter
man. "I hope you weren't planning on spending the night, because
three in a bed can be rather crowded." A forced grin twisted his
lips as his eyes ran leeringly over Samantha's figure. "And I can
guarantee Samantha is going to have her hands full."

Samantha gasped at the blatant implication.
Poor Alan didn't seem to know what to make of it. "Ah, Sam--I was
just on my way to Coos Bay and I thought I'd stop and see how you
were.. .but I can see you're fine." He backed toward the front
door, running a shaky hand through his sandy curls. "Maybe now is
as good a time as any to return this—" He fumbled in his pocket and
thrust a key into her palm, then turned and practically ran from
the house. A moment later the roar Of a car engine could be
heard.

Samantha's fingers clutched the cold metal of
the key. She felt like flinging it into Jason's face. His
audacious speech infuriated her, and she drew herself up proudly.
"You had no right to do that," she said clearly, her eyes a vivid
shade of blue in her pale face. "No right to be so rude! No right
to insinuate that we... that we..." Her face reddened, and she
stumbled over the words.

"That we're sleeping together?" he finished
for her. Amusement flared in his eyes for an instant, before a
harsh glitter replaced it once more. "Why shouldn't I?" he asked
moodily. "It's going to happen sooner or later. You've led me on a
merry chase for long enough, and I think it's time it ended."

The belligerence in his tone was at complete
odds with the strange light in his eyes as they ran boldly over her
slim figure, lingering on the heaving motion of her breasts beneath
the thin material.

Samantha's heart beat thunderously in her
chest, but solely from anger, she told herself. She was angry with
Jason, furious that he'd had the nerve to let Alan believe they
were lovers. But somehow the woman inside her couldn't help but
respond to that wholly masculine look.

She backed away from him, her hands gripping
the back of a chair for support. "You think you're irresistible,
don't you?" she flung at him. Her pulse pounded furiously as he
straightened from the doorway and shortened the distance between
them. "That all you have to do is crook your little finger, just
like all the heroes in your books, and every woman within a
hundred-mile radius will be at your beck and call..." The words
were choked off as he came closer yet.