The Dying Game (38 page)

“A fire would be lovely. Thank you.”

When Judd left, she explored the room, opening the armoire, looking at herself in the mahogany cheval mirror, wondering what Judd’s mimi had looked like. Beautiful no doubt, as all wealthy society ladies were, then and now. As she made her way around the room, she spotted a small framed photograph sitting on the single bedside table. She picked up the photo and instantly knew that this was Mimi: Probably forty. Flame-red hair. Striking blue-green eyes. Freckles on her nose. A square face. Not beautiful. Not even pretty. But gorgeously alive. Vibrant.

A square jewelry box rested beside the five-by-seven-inch picture. Lindsay opened the top and music filled the air: Debussy’s “Clair de Lune.”

“That’s Mimi,” Judd said eying the frame she held. He stood in the doorway, his arms piled high with sheets, blankets, and pillows. “She told me that my grandfather told her, after they married, that the first time he saw her, he thought she was as plain as an old shoe. But that was before she spoke to him and smiled.”

Judd came in, dropped the bed linens onto the bed, then walked over and took the photo from Lindsay. Staring at his grandmother’s picture, he said, “I thought she was the most beautiful woman on earth. I loved her more than anyone.”

He set the frame down and glanced at the fireplace. “I’ll go get some wood, kindling, and matches and be right back.”

Lindsay nodded, then went over to the bed, picked up the blankets and pillows and deposited them on top of the dresser. She shook out the sheet: Straight edges, no fitted bottom sheet. She whipped the first one apart and spread it over the bed. The sheets were clean, but smelled slightly musty, as if they’d been washed, folded, and then stored a good while ago.

By the time Judd returned with the firewood, she had made the bed and was stuffing the pillows into the hand-embroidered cases. Finishing the chore, she watched while he laid the wood inside the fireplace, arranged the kindling, and then lit the first match.

Judd had broad shoulders, a slender waist and narrow hips. He was long-legged and lean. His hair touched the edge of the moss green flannel shirt he wore.

When he rose to his feet and turned, their gazes connected. She glanced away. “I need to run outside and get my bag.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“No, I can get it.”

“Let me,” he said. “I need to keep busy. I’m doing my best not to butt my head against the wall or drive to the nearest liquor store. I got drunk Sunday night, but haven’t had a drop since. I’m nervous and edgy and …” He chuckled dole fully. “See, I told you I’m a screwed-up mess.”

She rummaged in her pocket, retrieved her keys, and tossed them to him. Despite his hand shaking, he caught them in midair.

“You know where the downstairs bathroom is,” he said before he turned and headed up the hall.

Standing alone in the middle of Mimi’s old bedroom, Lindsay thought about what had happened between her and Judd tonight. Just when she had almost given up hope …

He didn’t make any promises
.

He’s afraid of hurting you
.

He still loves Jennifer
.

Three good reasons not to become sexually involved with him.

Yeah, right. She was already as emotionally involved as she could get. Hog wild in love. And she wanted him. Desperately.

Judd returned a few minutes later, brought her bag into the room, and placed it at the foot of the bed. “If you hear me wandering around half the night, don’t worry about me. You know how restless I am. And trying to stay sober has made me beyond jittery.”

“If you need me … if you want company at two in the morning, I’ll get up and we can talk or have more cookies and milk.”

Offering her a halfhearted smile, he nodded. “Good night, Lindsay.”

“Good night, Judd.”

Judd hadn’t locked the doors here at the lodge since he moved in, but tonight he did. After all, Lindsay would be sleeping downstairs. He wanted to keep her safe.

He had thought his protective instincts had died with Jennifer. Apparently, they hadn’t. They had simply been lying dormant.

But love had died with Jennifer.

Or had it?

I’m not in love with Lindsay
.

I want her. I need her. But I don’t love her. If I love anyone,
I love Jennifer. On some level, I’ll always love my Jenny
.

But I thought love died with Jennifer
.

He shook his head. Confusion plagued him. He had thought he knew himself, knew his own tormented soul, and had accepted the fact that he was an unfeeling son of a bitch. But Lindsay had reawakened his emotions, had made him reevaluate his life.

However, one thing had not changed, would never change. A part of him had died with Jennifer. The old Judd Walker had bled to death on the kitchen floor the night he held his butchered wife in his arms. The hull that had remained afterward turned into a vengeful, angry monster, a man who rejected every human kindness. And yet he had taken life-sustaining nourishment from Lindsay’s kindness, her caring … her love.

Judd went from room to room, turning off the lights, then took the backstairs up to the second floor. His bedroom, the one where he’d slept as a boy and young man when he’d come to the lodge with his family, seemed darker, colder, and more empty than it had at any time since he’d made the place his main residence.

Knowing Lindsay was downstairs, resting in Mimi’s old bed, a warm fire glowing in the fireplace, created a sense of loneliness in Judd, a loneliness that reminded him he no longer wanted to be alone.

Day and night. Alone. Lonely. Without human companionship.

For years now, he had existed from one day to the next, wallowing in self-pity and abject loneliness. It was a life he had chosen for himself and yet it was no life at all.

He walked over to the window, drew back the curtain and looked down onto the area where Mimi’s garden had once produced not only lilies and marigolds and springtime daffodils, but delicious fresh herbs and an array of vegetables well into early fall. His grandmother and his father had loved the lodge, and even his prim and proper mother had enjoyed an occasional visit to the country.

He had loved and respected his mother and father, but it had been Mimi who had filled his young life with laughter and wonder. If he listened very hard, he could almost hear Mimi’s laughter. The woman had known how to live, how to squeeze every ounce of joy from the simple things. She had loved her husband, loved her family, adored her only grandchild. When he and Jennifer had talked about having children, he’d told her how much he wished his mimi had lived long enough to see a great-grandchild.

But there was no great-grandchild. No wife. No future without …

Jennifer.

Darling Jenny.

Would you be jealous if you knew I cared about Lindsay?

I don’t love her. I don’t know if I’m capable of loving anyone.
But Lindsay is important to me
.

After sitting down on the bed, Judd removed his shoes and unbuttoned his flannel shirt. When he wiggled his toes, he glanced down and noticed a hole in his right sock. He hadn’t paid any attention to little things like that in a long, long time. Grinning, he took off his shirt, tossed it to the foot of the bed, then unbuckled and removed his belt. He fell sideways onto the unmade bed and stared up at the ceiling.

It would be unfair to Lindsay if I went into a relationship
with her knowing I could never love her
.

But you do love her, an inner voice said
.

He shot straight up and sat on the edge of the bed.

Yes, I do love her. But not the way I loved Jenny
.

Jenny’s gone. Lindsay is alive. She’s here. And she loves
you
.

Judd got up, walked out of his bedroom, down the hall, and took the backstairs two at a time.

You have no right to take more from Lindsay than you already
have. She loves you. If you go to her, she won’t turn
you away
.

Judd came to a crashing halt in the middle of the kitchen, his hands balled into tight fists. He wanted to smash something to smithereens, to vent his frustration on some inanimate object.

God, he needed a drink. Needed it badly.

But there was no liquor in the house. He’d gotten rid of every half-empty bottle.

You can’t get drunk
.

But you can go to Lindsay
.

She understood him, accepted him, and loved him.

He hadn’t promised her anything.

Why should he fight what he wanted, what they both wanted?

He left the kitchen and walked down the hall. When he reached Lindsay’s bedroom, he stopped suddenly, noting that the door stood wide open as if inviting him inside.

He took a single, hesitant step into the room before he realized that Lindsay was not in bed. She stood in front of the blazing fire, the outline of her body beneath her gown shadowed by the yellow-orange glow. As if sensing his presence, she turned around, looked right at him and smiled.

Lindsay had known that he would come to her. She had seen the desire in his eyes, had felt it in his embrace, in his kiss. He might not love her, but he needed her, and for now that would be enough.

“I thought you’d probably be asleep,” he said, his gaze moving over her hungrily.

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Neither am I.”

They stood there, the width of the bedroom between them and simply stared at each other. Judd was in his sock feet and wore only his thermal undershirt and his beltless jeans. He looked delicious. Good enough to eat. All lean, luscious male.

She wondered how she looked to him. Plain and dowdy in her oversized pink sleep shirt that hit her just above her knees. Her face cleanly scrubbed, her curly hair tousled from combing through it with her fingers. Her feet encased in warm, fuzzy footies.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

“You are?”

“I am.”

“Do you want to share more milk and cookies?”

Shaking his head, he took several steps toward her. “I’m not hungry for milk and cookies.”

“You’re not?” Alive with anticipation, she swallowed nervously.

“I’m hungry for you,” he told her.

“Judd …”

He spanned the space that separated them, and without saying a word, circled her neck with his big hand, lowered his head, and kissed her with an eager passion that matched her own. His other hand splayed open across her lower spine and eased her body into his, her mound against his erect penis. When she gasped, aroused by the feel of him, he thrust his tongue inside her mouth.

They kissed hungrily, their hands exploring each other. Touching, rubbing, caressing. She helped Judd remove his thermal undershirt. He threw it onto the floor, then lifted her sleep shirt over her head, and dropped it on top of his discarded undershirt. She shivered when the nighttime chill hit her bare skin, and her nipples peaked. He looked down at her, smiled, and cupped her breasts. His thumbs flicked across each nipple, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her.

“Lindsay …”

She loved hearing him say her name.

He knew he was making love to her. This wouldn’t be just having sex for him. Lindsay wasn’t like any of the others. She wasn’t a substitute for Jenny.

Judd swept her up into his arms and carried her to the massive four-poster. After depositing her in the middle of the bed, he lifted her hips, and yanked her pink bikini panties down, over her legs and off. She lay there quivering, wanting him so badly that she couldn’t bear another minute without him inside her.

When she held open her arms, he stripped off his briefs and tossed them aside, then climbed into bed. He came down over her, straddling her hips, bracing himself on his elbows as his lower body pressed into hers.

“I wish I could make this first time perfect for you,” he told her as he looked into her eyes. “But I want you so much, need you so much …”

“I don’t need any foreplay,” she said. “Not this time. All I want is you inside me. Right now.”

Judd grasped her hips and lifted her up to meet his first lunge. When he entered her, she cried out with the sheer joy of having him inside her.

“I love you,” she whimpered. “I love you so much.”

“Sweet, sweet Lindsay.”

He took her in a frenzy of mutual need, hammering into her hard and fast. She moved in unison with him, quickly adapting to the frantic rhythm he set. With each moment that passed, each kiss, each thrust, each countermove, each sigh, each moan, she grew more and more aroused until her body exploded into climatic release only seconds before he came.

Quivering with fulfillment, she clung to him, kissing his face as she bit her fingers into his tight buttocks. He shook and groaned as his orgasm hit.

Breathing hard and glistening with sweat, Judd rolled off her and onto his side, then pulled her into his arms. She nestled her head on his shoulder, every nerve in her body singing.

This was where she was meant to be.

She was born to love this man and only this man. Now and forever.

Chapter 27

The morning sun peered through the seams in the old wooden shutters that closed off the bedroom from the outside world. Shiny, yellow-white fingers of light crept across the wooden floor and room-size rug. The long tendrils spread out from the side and back windows and crisscrossed atop the four-poster bed. The fire had died out sometime in the early morning hours, leaving only glowing embers in the fireplace and allowing the gusting March wind to create a chill throughout the room.

But Lindsay didn’t feel the cool air on her naked skin. All she felt was Judd’s hot hands and even hotter mouth on her body. Caressing her. Licking her. She shuddered with release when he lapped deeply between her feminine folds, heatedly stroking her clitoris with the tip of his tongue. As wave after wave of pleasure flooded through her, Judd eased up alongside her, kissed her shoulder, and then rolled her over on top so that she straddled him.