A Winter's Rose (16 page)

Yet it would probably come to that—a lifetime without Jackson.

Determined not to dwell on that aspect of her and Jackson's relationship, Bentley shook her head and flipped open her appointment book. She smiled as she read the notations, the number of meetings she had already attended, the number she had scheduled for the coming week. She was enjoying fund-raising; she was good at it. She had already garnered financial commitments from almost everyone she had met with, and those who hadn't committed yet, would.

She picked up the phone, fixed on snagging a particularly elusive friend of her mother's.

“Bentley, could you come into my office for a moment?”

Bentley looked up at Jackson, heat rushing over her until she was sure she must glow with it.
So much for nonchalance.
She set the receiver in its cradle and stood. “Sure.”

“Chloe, you have the phones?”

For a split second the girl looked defiant, then she smiled prettily at Jackson. “Yes, Daddy.”

He smiled back and Bentley's heart turned over at the adoration in his eyes. It was as it should be. She just wished there was room in there for her.

She followed Jackson into his office, shutting the door behind her. “What's up?”

“This.” He tumbled her into his arms and took her mouth in a fierce and possessive kiss.

Bentley curled her fingers into his soft flannel shirt, clinging to him. When he lifted his head, she looked at him, dazed. Was it always going to be like this? she wondered. So cataclysmic? So breath-stealing?

Jackson rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. “I've wanted to do that all morning.”

“And I've wanted you to.” She relaxed her fingers. “I missed you last night. The bed seemed so big and cold.”

Jackson slid his hands down her back to cup her bottom. He pressed her to him; he was hard with arousal. “This is insane. I wasn't this randy in my twenties.”

She drew away from him a fraction so she could look him in the eyes. “What are we going to do about this, Jackson?”

He laughed huskily. “I have about a dozen ideas.”

When he tried to tug her into his arms, she resisted. “No, I'm serious. We need to talk.”

He frowned and loosened his hold on her. “You've got my attention.”

She drew in a deep breath, readying for a fight. “We need to tell Chloe about us.”

“I agree.”

Her mouth dropped. “You do?”

He laughed. “Yeah. I'll tell her before she goes back to school.”

“Why the—” Bentley caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “What's the point in waiting?”

“It's only a couple of weeks. And she leaves for Colorado Saturday.” Jackson drew her into his arms. “Why so worried? Everything's going great.”

“I know…but—”

“Uh-uh. No buts.” Jackson caught her mouth again. “God, I can't wait until Saturday. We're going to be alone. Just you and me. Let's stay in bed all day.”

“Mmm.” She melted in his arms, dizzy at the prospect of having Jackson all to herself. “Sounds glorious.”

He kissed her again. And again. Finally, regretfully, he released her. As he did he smiled. “Although by Sunday morning I'll probably be missing Chloe so much that I'll mope around and call her a dozen times. This last week and a half has been so good. I wish she didn't have to go back to school. I wish she wanted to stay and go to school here.”

“Maybe she does. Ask her.”

He smiled. “I think I will.”

“You've got to go.”

Jackson checked his watch. “No kidding.”

Bentley rested her forehead on his chest and sighed. “I wish you didn't have that appointment in Austin this afternoon. I'm going to miss you.”

“And I, you.” He cupped her face in his palms, searching her gaze for long moments. Something in his expression had her chest tightening, had the breath catching in her lungs. Then it was gone, and he smiled. “Maybe I should make that guy from the EPA wait?”

She returned his teasing smile. “I don't think so.”

“You and Chloe going to be all right?”

“Of course. I'll drop her at Randa's before I meet Bebe McKay for dinner, you'll pick her up when you get back from Austin. It's all set.”

“Good luck with Bebe. I hear she's pretty tightfisted.”

“She is. But I'm pretty persuasive.”

Jackson laughed and kissed her. “That you are.”

And then he was gone. She stood in the doorway to his office and watched as he said goodbye to Chloe, then walked out the door. She ached to race after him, to tell him she loved him, ached so badly she had to grip the edge of the door to keep herself from doing just that.

When the double-glass doors had clicked shut behind him, Bentley sighed, turned to Chloe and forced an easy smile. “Well, kiddo, it's just you and me.”

“Not quite the way you like it, is it?”

Bentley lifted her eyebrows at the antagonism in the girl's voice. “Excuse me?”

Chloe jutted her chin out. “No, I don't think I will.”

“Did I do something to upset you?”

“You tell me.”

She hadn't been wrong; she hadn't been imagining things. Chloe knew. She was angry. And hurt. Chloe had deliberately waited until Jackson was gone to confront her, because, obviously, she blamed Bentley.

Dismayed, Bentley drew in a deep, careful breath. “I think we need to talk. I understand why you're—”

“Save it.” Chloe glowered at her. “I don't need another one of your lies.”

Bentley stiffened her spine. “I'm not a liar, Chloe. When you want to talk, when you have something to ask me and can do it nicely, we'll talk.”

Bentley turned and started to walk away. Chloe stopped her. “I thought you didn't want to get into my dad's pants. Looks like that's all you wanted all along.”

Several emotions hit Bentley at once, shock, embarrassment, regret. And hurt. Chloe was young, Bentley rationalized. She was insecure with her place in her father's heart. She was vulnerable. But still, she'd thought Chloe had come to know her, she'd thought they were friends.

Slowly, Bentley turned to face the youngster, not bothering to hide the way she felt. “I don't deserve that, Chloe. I think you know it. Your father and I are having a relationship. We didn't mean to hurt you.”

“No?” she flung back, a hysterical edge in her voice. “Then why did you keep it a secret from me?”

What could she say? Bentley wondered. That her father hadn't wanted to tell her because it was only sex for him? That on some level their affair embarrassed him?

As she allowed the thought to take form in her head, she acknowledged it was the one she had been denying all week, the one she had not wanted to face. Why else wouldn't he have told Chloe?

Bentley worked to quell her own fears, concentrating instead on Chloe's. “Your father wanted to wait to tell you until—”

“I was going back to school,” Chloe supplied bitterly. “Until right before I was getting out of your hair.”

“That's not true.”

“You're lying again. You're good at that, aren't you?” Chloe jutted her chin out, battling tears. “It is true. I listened. Daddy can't wait for me to leave so you two can be alone. Just like Mama and
Jacques.”

“It's not like that. Not at all. Your father loves you. And I care for you very much. If you'd listened longer—”

“You used me!”

“He wanted to tell you,” Bentley continued softly, working to keep the panic out of her voice. “But in his own way. When he was ready. It's difficult to know—”

“Yeah, right. It's always so difficult for adults.”

“It's difficult for kids, too. I know that. So does he. Chloe, please, before you judge him—us—too harshly, talk to him.”

But Chloe had tuned her out. The girl refused to even look at her for the rest of the afternoon, and it passed with agonizing slowness. Bentley left several messages for Jackson, but by the end of the day he still hadn't called her back.

Everything would be all right, she told herself as she drove Chloe to Randa's house. Chloe would be safe and happy with her friend; in a matter of hours Jackson would be back and he and Chloe would work things out. Bentley caught her bottom lip between her teeth and angled a glance at the silent girl. She hated having Chloe so angry at her. It hurt to think that Chloe might never trust her again.

Bentley stopped the car in front of Randa's house and turned to Chloe. “I really want us to talk.” She caught the girl's hand. “After you see your father, please come to me.”

Without acknowledging her plea with so much as a blink, Chloe snatched her hand back, alighted from the car and walked away.

* * *

Thunder awakened her. Bentley jerked up in bed and looked around the room, chilled and disoriented. A violent storm raged outside, and every few seconds lightning eerily illuminated her apartment.

Thunder crashed again, followed by a brilliant flash of light.

“Bentley, it's me. Open up!”

Jackson?
She turned toward the door, not quite believing her ears. The pounding came again, more audible this time, and she grabbed her robe and ran to the front of her apartment.

She unlocked the door and he burst through. He was soaked to the skin, and water ran down his neck and under the collar of his shirt and puddled at his feet.

What concerned her more was the panic in his eyes. “Jackson, what's—”

“Is she here?”

“Chloe?”

“Yes, damn it. Is she here?”

“No.” Bentley hugged herself, shivering. “She's at Randa's.”

Jackson swore and dragged his hands through his dripping hair. “No, she's not.”

“But I dropped her off,” Bentley said, a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “I watched her go in.”

“She didn't stay.” Jackson pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Randa said she was upset about something. She wanted to go home.”

“But surely Randa's mother—”

“Was at the grocery. When she returned, Chloe was gone. Her mother didn't think anything of it.”

Bentley pressed a hand to her chest, to her racing heart. Stay calm, she told herself. For Chloe, for Jackson. But after the words she and Chloe had exchanged that afternoon it was difficult. “You tried the house?”

“Yes.” He flexed his fingers and swung his gaze over the dark, empty apartment, then met hers again. “What happened? When I left, everything was fine. Great, I thought.”

Bentley clasped her hands in front of her. “I'll get you a towel. Sit down and—”

“I don't want a towel and I don't want to sit down.” He glowered at her. “Damn it, I just want to know where my daughter is.”

“Don't yell at me! I don't know where she is!” Bentley took a deep, calming breath, fighting panic. “This afternoon, after you left, Chloe confronted me about your and my…relationship. She accused me of lying to her. She was really angry. And hurt.”

At the guilt that twisted his features, Bentley reached out to him. “Don't,” she said quickly. “You did what you thought was best.”

He shrugged off her hand. “You mean, I screwed up again.”

That he didn't want her comfort hurt. Bentley bit back a sound of pain at his rejection, even as she told herself she was being too sensitive.

She folded her arms across her chest to keep from reaching out to him again. “I thought it would be okay. I thought being with a girlfriend would be the best place for her until the two of you could talk.
I tried to reach you and left several messages. Obviously, you didn't get them.”

“The trip was a nightmare. Fuller put me off, pushing me onto a lackey—” Jackson shook his head. “I'm going to the house. Maybe she's there now. Or maybe there's a message.”

“I'm coming, too.”

“No. You wait here. She might show up—”

“She won't, Jackson. Trust me on this. I'm the last one she would be running to.” At the questions in his eyes, she shook her head. “We'll talk more in the car. It'll only take me a minute to throw on some clothes.”

While Bentley dressed, Jackson paced, trying to harness both his runaway heart and imagination. And the debilitating fears that clawed at him.

Where was she?

Everything had been going so well. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he'd had his daughter back.

Now she was gone. Only this time she could be hurt. Or in danger.

A brilliant flash of lightning rent the sky, and he shuddered.
She had to be home. And safe. If anything had happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

“I'm ready.”

Jackson turned to Bentley. “Let's go.”

The storm was at its peak, and Bentley's umbrella provided little protection against the fierce wind and driving rain. By the time they were both in the Blazer, Bentley was nearly as wet as he.

Jackson started the vehicle, maneuvering carefully through the flooding streets. “Why, Bentley?” he asked after a moment, not taking his eyes from the road. “She seemed happy. We were getting along.”

Bentley twisted her fingers together in her lap. “She suspected something was going on, so when we went into your office this afternoon she eavesdropped.”

“So, she heard us making out.”

“And she heard you say how much you were looking forward to her trip, how much you wanted us to be alone.”

“But I also said how much I would miss her.” Guilt stabbed at him, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. He swung his gaze to Bentley's. “Didn't I say that?”

“She didn't hear that part. And she wouldn't believe me when I told her.”

“I can't believe this. Just when we were starting to—”

“There's more, Jackson.”

At the anguished tone of her voice, Jackson took his gaze from the road, but only for a second. “More?”