McCloud's Woman (30 page)

“You could park the copter on the beach the film crew is
using,” she suggested mischievously. “There’s more space there than in
front of the house.”

“Sand and wind. Not good for long term. Saw a field past those trees. I’ll try that. Come pick me up?”

Mara tickled TJ’s belly to prevent the retort forming on
his tongue. She remembered the insults the McCloud brothers had thrown
at each other as kids. McClouds had invented one-upsmanship. “I’d send
the limo, but you’ve got to get my job back first.”

On the other side of the helicopter, the caravan of cars and buses began slamming to a halt.

Clay shrugged and climbed into the pilot’s seat. “The
Intimidator’s already got that covered,” he shouted as the rotors began
to spin. “I’m just here to collect the baggage.”

“You know, I’ve been real polite and not questioned you,
but I think that’s gonna stop,” Mara said thoughtfully as the helicopter
began dancing over the sandy lane.

“My teachers always wrote me up for not sharing.” Feet
planted firmly apart, muscled arms crossed over his bare chest, TJ
watched the copter rise as if he weren’t blocking the convoy of cars
like a statue of Colossus.

“If the logistics didn’t seem impossible, I’d say you
planned this.” Mara wished she had her floppy hat and sunglasses as the
helicopter disappeared over the trees. She’d rather face a furious Ian
with all her protective shields in place. She felt naked without them.

“Clay is lousy at keeping a schedule, but excellent at choosing his timing,” TJ replied enigmatically.

The limo remained where it had halted, and Ian stalked
toward them. Several of the technicians climbed from their jeeps and
trucks to better watch the confrontation.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, McCloud? Isn’t
it bad enough we have to scale that dune on foot every day, that now you
have to turn the road into a helipad to block our access?”

“Even though I’ve got an injunction that permits it, I
didn’t increase security or block your ATVs,” TJ said evenly. “You
should be grateful for the reprieve.”

“You knew I’d have your ass fried if you tried.” Slender
and half a foot shorter than TJ, the producer kept his distance. “Now,
if you’ll get out of our way—”

“Actually, I stopped you for a reason. I have enough
evidence to prove a World War Two-era murder may have been committed
here, and I have permission to expand the dig past the access road. The
feds are waiting for a phone call from me to set the process in motion.”

Mara knew TJ had evidence of a crime. She wasn’t so
certain about the feds agreeing to expand the dig, but she’d never seen
Ian shut up so fast. She was pretty flabbergasted as well. World War II?

She eyed TJ skeptically. He wouldn’t do this to her, would
he? What good would it do to get her film back if she couldn’t reach
the beach?

In TJ’s eyes, it wasn’t her film anymore, and he was
perfectly capable of getting even... or of using the threat to get her job
back.
That
was the TJ she knew.

Slowly her hope rose, and Mara fought back a triumphant
expression as she watched a reporter climbing out of the limo, and
another hand his beer to a techie so he could reach for his notebook.
War crimes made great press.

“You’re bluffing,” Ian countered brashly, reaching for his ever-present cell phone. “I’ll sic the attorneys on you.”

TJ shrugged, wrapped his arm around Mara’s shoulders, and
eased her toward the edge of the road. “Just thought a friendly warning
was in order. I fear you’ll find the attorneys otherwise occupied. Spoke
to Sid lately?”

Mara’s stomach clenched at the threat in TJ’s voice. What had he done this time?

Ian’s fingers hovered over the cell phone buttons. He glanced uncertainly at Mara, then back to TJ. “Why?”

“Probably not my business to say if he hasn’t called you
to explain. Let’s just say that you’ve placed your bets on the wrong
partner.”

Mara recognized the expression in Ian’s eyes. He was
weighing odds, choosing which bridges not to burn. People didn’t survive
in Hollywood without leaving escape routes open, and Ian was as much of
a survivor as she was. Or better. She’d actually trusted Sid in the
divorce agreement. Ian wouldn’t have.

“I’m just taking orders from my employer,” Ian countered carefully.

In a decidedly proprietary manner, TJ caressed Mara’s ear
lobe. A shiver of pleasure shot down her spine, but she was too
interested in the conversation to return the gesture. Crossing her arms
and leaning into TJ, she waited for the explosion.

“You own half the company, don’t you?” TJ asked her.

She wasn’t certain she’d told him that, but it wasn’t
exactly private information. She nodded, and a curl of hair fell from
her topknot across her cheek. She must look a mess, and bored
journalists were snapping their cameras to record her lack of glamour.
She considered easing behind TJ’s big body to hide, but his arm provided
all the shelter she needed.

“Sid has the controlling share.” She resisted saying she
was a flunky, even if that was what every man here was thinking. Except
TJ, bless his righteous heart.

“I think, in view of Sid’s legal problems, he may be
willing to forfeit that control,” TJ replied thoughtfully, looking at
Ian rather than at her. “I bet if you pick up your voice mail, you have
calls from a number of investors by now.”

Mara fumbled for her cell phone in her shoulder bag, while Ian glanced nervously at the one in his hand.

“It’s still early in L.A.,” TJ pointed out helpfully.

Escaping from TJ’s hold and retreating to the Taurus with a
pounding heart and a vaguely sick taste in her mouth, Mara punched in
the number for her voice mail. A dozen messages waited. With fascination
and dread building, she listened to the first staticky call. And the
second.

By the time she’d heard them all, the clearing had fallen
completely silent. Ian shut off his phone and stared at her as if he
feared his head would roll.

And TJ was nowhere in sight.

“I know a lawyer who can advise you,” Ian offered
cautiously. “Sid’s gonna have his hands full for some months to come.
You don’t want the company to slip out of control in the meantime.”

Mara watched the reporters in the back hastily checking
their own voice mail or making frantic calls. Reception on the island
was bad, and some of them were cursing and urging their drivers to pull
around the barrier of cars in the lane.

Sid had been arrested on drug and sex charges. Justice had
finally been served, and she suspected the wielder of the gavel came in
the form of one TJ McCloud, with perhaps a little help from a brother.
Clay should have stuck around to watch the fun.

“I can give you a ride into town,” Ian offered. “We need to start making plans.”

She had her life back
.
And TJ had just absented himself from it.

Something visceral ripped in two at the thought of
returning to her lonely bed and a life surrounded by sycophants who
would bring her coffee at a snap of the fingers but wouldn’t share their
New York Times
with her. A week ago, that had been all she
wanted out of life. A week ago, not one person in that caravan of cars
had lifted a finger to help when Ian had tossed her out. TJ had.

She glanced at the bushes he’d disappeared into, and back
to the limo waiting to return her to the film that would make her
career.

Dammit, she wouldn’t let him do this to her again
.
She was a big girl now, and this time, she wouldn’t let him walk away without some answers.

Smiling grimly at the line of actors, journalists, and
technicians, no longer caring if she looked like a skinny librarian,
Mara waved to them as if she were queen of all she surveyed. “See y’all
in the morning. I’ve got better things to do tonight.”

Fury concealed behind her smile, she stalked down the path
toward the dune, leaving Ian to figure out how they’d get around the
Taurus she had left blocking the lane.

TJ had just stepped from the shower into the bedroom when
his door slammed open, and Mara stalked through with all the fires of
hell blazing in her eyes. Still dripping and rubbing his hair with a
towel, he tried not to let his need for her overrule common sense. Even
though she’d regressed to a tank top and jeans, she only vaguely
resembled the teenager he’d once loved. He knew the woman she was now
far better than the child she’d been, though, and he wanted her more
than ever.

Diplomatically, he wrapped the towel around his waist to conceal the direction of his thoughts.

“I’m sick and tired of people telling me how to lead my
life!” she shouted. “I’m sick and tired of others thinking they know
what’s best for me.” Crossing the room, she smacked her palm against
TJ’s chest, shoving him backward—or attempting to.

Having no clue where her agile mind had taken her and with
no ability to ponder anything while she stood inches from his rapidly
rising ardor, TJ simply waited for explanation. Women always yelled at
him and walked out. He’d never had one stand up to him before. He was
fascinated.

“Don’t give me that enigmatic look, Timothy John!” She
pounded him with her fist, forcing him to back up against the bed. “You
walked away again. Don’t you
ever
walk away from me like that. If you want to get rid of me, say it to my face.”

“I only wanted a shower,” he muttered, but deep inside, he
knew what she meant. He just hadn’t expected to be called on it. He’d
expected her to climb into the limo with Ian and start planning the rest
of her life.

“The
hell
you did!” She kicked off her mules and undulated out of her tank top.

TJ thought his eyes might pop out as naked breasts brushed
his chest, more tempting than any strip show he’d ever seen. The tips
were taut and begging for plucking, and releasing the towel, he placed
his hands behind him on the bed to prevent reaching for them. “I
didn’t
want a shower?” he asked with some confusion. So much for his much-heralded mental processes.

“You expected me to walk away, didn’t you, big boy?” She
reached for the snap of her jeans and wriggled out of them in record
time.

He supposed he had, if he thought about it, but right now,
his mind was otherwise occupied. She wore a scanty bikini panty made of
snow white lace. It skimmed curving hips and taunted him with a shadow
of invitation. What exactly was he supposed to do here?

“Well, it’s not working, TJ. I’m not one of your nitwit
assistants. I’m not disappearing into the woodwork or walking out. Just
call me albatross.” She flung her arms around his shoulders, pressed her
mouth to his, and he couldn’t call her anything if he wanted. His mouth
was much too busy.

TJ toppled back on the bed, and Mara fell on top of him.
Scrambling to her knees, she continued leaning over him, wrapping her
hands in his hair, pressing hungry kisses across his jaw, tempting him
with bouncing breasts he could no longer resist. When he cupped them,
she ground her hips against his abdomen, and TJ lost any pretense of
control.

He caught her head and held her still so he could plunder
her mouth with his tongue. She wriggled down until his erection brushed
the lace of her panties, and he lost his grip on her hair to tear at the
obstacle in his way. She yelped as he ripped off the scrap of lace,
then rose high on her knees, and came down on him so swiftly, he almost
erupted right then.

Sheathed in her moist heat, he quit worrying about
anything. He held her hips and pumped deeper, but he craved the softness
of her breasts against his mouth. She shrieked as he rolled her to her
back, then wrapped her legs around his hips once he captured her nipple
and sucked it deeply.

He knew in the back of his mind that they needed to stop,
to gain control, to think, but his id had taken the reins and urged his
body to a gallop and nothing barred his way.

Mara had come after him.
He’d given her what she
wanted most, and she’d turned her back on it and come looking for him.
Joy and triumph flowed, unhampered by logic. Giving into primal need, TJ
drove high, inhaled her scream of ecstasy as she climaxed, and in
gratitude, poured his release deep within her.

The blare of a car horn intruded through the open window.

Mara wriggled, but TJ held her pinned. Winded, he didn’t bother explaining.

“I’m not going anywhere, TJ,” she countered with
stubbornness. “We’re going to work this out this time. I’ll go to the
doctor in the morning to get the pill.”

The Pill. TJ pressed his forehead to hers, then rolled
over, taking her with him. The car horn quit blowing. He knew that was
an ominous sign but he had other alarming things to consider. They
hadn’t used a condom. Again.

He was on the brink of one disaster and courting another.
“We’ve got separate lives, Mara,” he cautioned. “You’re better off
recognizing that now, and getting out while you can.”

Still holding him inside her, she circled her hips,
catching his anatomy’s attention again. “Tell me you want me to leave,”
she taunted.

“Keep that up, and you’ll be sporting a fat belly beneath those crop tops,” he warned. “How will you vamp your money men then?”

“Low blow, McCloud.” She rolled off and glared at the ceiling.

Feeling like a heel, TJ turned on his side to caress her
tumbling hair from her face. “I’m sorry. You have this incredible
ability to turn me into my old protective teenage hulk. I want to pound
any man looking at you into dust. Breaking Irving’s nose wasn’t an
accident.”

Mara smiled, and TJ’s insides melted. He could dive into
those laughing green pools and never come up again. The wretched imp had
him tied in knots, and if she started singing
Doo-wah-diddy
anytime in the next thirty seconds, he’d never escape alive.