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Authors: Char Chaffin

Unsafe Haven (19 page)

BOOK: Unsafe Haven
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“Shit.” Denn rubbed the back of his neck. “Did she say anything about her plans tonight?”

“Nope. You know Wendy’s summer revolves around the Four Hills. She wouldn’t go anywhere, not when it’s near dinnertime. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. It’s all right. Go back to whatever you were doing. Everything’s cool.” He paused. “How are my brand-new godsons? Ready to attend college, yet?”

“Well, if you must know, Grant took a dump and Graham’s chowing down on my—”

“God, Jo! Just stop.” Denn squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t need any damned visuals. You’re a sadist.”

She snorted. “Better believe it. Come see them, tomorrow. Okay?”

“You got it.” He folded the phone and slipped it in his pocket.

Ten minutes later, Denn sat in the Suburban. He’d done what he could for the inn’s dinner guests, setting out bowls and spoons, napkins and glasses. He’d found lemonade in the fridge and corn muffins in the breadbox and laid them out along with a tub of butter and a box of saltines. The guests were somewhat hesitant about self-serve chili, but they’d rallied quickly enough when he’d also unearthed three Fat Man pies from the fridge and cut them into hefty wedges. He’d left ten people in the midst of gluttony before heading out.

Now he took out his cell and punched in a few more numbers.

“Hello.” Kendall sounded breathless, and damned sexy. Immediately, his entire body tightened.

“Hi. What’re you wearing?”

Her voice dropped to a sultry purr. “An apron.”

“And?”

“And nothing else.”

“Damn.” Saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought of her in his kitchen with an apron and her mane of silky curls the only things shielding her body from his hungry gaze. He uttered a long, needy groan into the tiny receiver, and she giggled.

“Want to know what I’m really wearing?”

“No, I’d rather have you lie to me. You do it so well.” He chuckled. “I may be a while. Got a few places to stop.”

Something in his voice must have alerted her, though he tried to modulate his tone. “Is everything all right?”

“Sure. I think I’m going to swing by the airport again, make sure there’s nobody stranded out there. That stupid Egg forgot a fare coming in. I had to taxi them over.”

“Was he asleep again?”

“Oh, yeah. See, you’re getting into the Staamat groove. You got the deets and the dirt.”

“Lucky me. Hurry home.” This time the promise in her soft voice warmed him up from the heart outward.

“Soon, baby.” He parted his lips, hesitated, then murmured, “I love you.”

He heard her breath catch, the sweetest sound. “Denn . . .” His name had never been uttered with such longing.

Oh, sweetheart.

“It’s all right. I know you want to say it. I can wait until you’re ready, Kendall.”

“I do want to, Denn. I’m just, I’m not quite there, yet.” The words faltered a little as she spoke in his ear. “But I want to be.”

She’d admitted far more than he’d hoped. After another promise to get home as fast as he could, Denn folded his cell and stuck it in his pocket. A wide grin split his face as he leaned back in his seat.

Then his grin faded as he thought about Wendy, a potential problem if ever there was one. He had to track her down and he wasn’t thrilled at the prospect, not after her weirdness at Jo’s house earlier today. Not to mention what he’d found in the Four Hills’ kitchen.

After Kendall had moved out to the Post, he’d done his best to avoid coming to the Four Hills. If he caught sight of Wendy while he was out and about, he always waved, and if he had a chance to stop and chat for a few minutes, he’d do it. But her attitude these past few weeks made him damned uncomfortable. He couldn’t shake the certainty she’d read far more into their friendship than he’d ever intended. It also irritated him when Luna and Jo needled him about it.

“That girl’s got it bad for you.” Jo had dropped the bombshell on him a few days before he strong-armed her into starting her LOA.

“What? Who?” Leaning on her desk with his nose buried in a copy of the latest
Alaskan Adventures
,
he’d barely heard her.

She yanked the magazine out of his hands. “You know who. Wendy. I’d be suspicious you’ve led her on, but I know better, since you’ve been crazy for Kendall since her first day in town.”

He’d frowned. “You’re nuts. Wendy and I are just pals. And quit saying stuff like that. It’ll get all over town and I’ll have to listen to a bunch of crap.”

“It’s already all over town, you numbskull. How do you think I heard about it? Jeez, the other day I sent Bax down to Fake’s for a quart of that hand-packed Prudhoe Chocolate I like so much, and Fake asked him if anyone had started bets on who’d get you, Wendy or Kendall. I had to about sit on Bax to keep him from calling Luna and blabbing to her.”

“Oh, Christ, that’s all I need.” He’d jumped off her desk and paced, then stopped and stared out the window toward the Four Hills before crossing to Jo and facing her. “Look, Luna mentioned something similar and I told her she was nuts, too. But lately, well . . .” He shrugged. “There might be something to it. Last time I was over at the inn to get a recipe, Wendy kind of came on to me.”

Jo straightened and set down the orange soda she’d been guzzling. “Seriously? What did she say? Gimme all the dirt.”

“Well, she didn’t exactly say anything.” He fiddled with her pencil cup.

“Okay, what did she do? Grab you? What?”

“She didn’t do anything.”

Jo threw up her hands. “Then how do you know she came on to you, Nulo?”

“She was dressed nice. And she had perfume on. And makeup.”

“Oh, my God, all that? What a fiend. She must be stopped.” Jo shook her head in disgust. “You men can read anything into a situation, I swear. But in this case, you’re right. She’s got a thing for you. And she hates Kendall.”

“What?” Denn’s jaw had dropped.

“She does, Denn. I’m completely serious.” She laid a hand on his arm when he would have pushed away. “Hang on a second, and listen. I don’t know how much she’s told you, but Wendy’s had it rough where men are concerned. She picks the wrong guys. They treat her like dirt, walk all over her. One stole from her. Hell, her own mother got taken in by a creep. And Mei married the guy, remember? It’s a wonder they hung onto the Four Hills when Mei divorced him.”

“I never heard any of this. Just some about the marriage going south. By the time I came home for Luna, Mei had already moved back to Beijing. I didn’t know Wendy had dated assholes. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“It wasn’t my story to tell. Wendy and I hung out some before you swung back into town. I’m just saying, an insecure woman will latch on to a guy when she thinks he’s
the one
, and it won’t matter if he’s a prick. When he’s a nice guy who maybe thinks of her as only a friend, she’ll fool herself into believing he’s a lot more than a buddy. If he doesn’t feel the same way, there could be trouble.” Jo’s eyes met his, worry in their dark depths. “She’s not always stable, Nulo. Be careful.”

Now those words came back to him.
She’s not always stable.
Jo’s caution always rang true, and Denn trusted his steady-as-a-rock dispatcher. He might tease her and call her ‘Cream Puff,’ but Jo was a stellar example of how tough and levelheaded you needed to be to survive in a remote, often unforgiving place like Southwest Alaska. Yet compared to the easier life he’d had in Anchorage, he still couldn’t imagine being anywhere else except home. Jo and Frank Purna felt the same way.

He sighed and started the Suburban. As much as his duty fell to search for Wendy and find out what the hell was wrong with her, his alter ego, the man in love, wanted Kendall. For another indecisive minute, Denn stared out the windshield at the Four Hills Inn.

Then he shifted into gear and drove toward home.

Chapter 18

Early morning sunlight filled the room. Kendall stretched and yawned, too comfortable to move. Denn’s hand rested against her bare stomach.

Safe and warm. All because he loves me.
Her lips curved into a smile as she settled closer to his big body. She gave a deep sigh, and he echoed it, a moist release of breath which made the fine hairs on her neck rise in reaction.

He tightened his arm. “Time izzit?” His voice, gravelly with sleep, rumbled in her ear.

“No idea. Don’t care.” She turned and curled her arm behind his head. Her nose pressed into his neck and she inhaled him, heated skin and musk, a trace of aftershave. Delicious.

I never want to move again
.

“I can get behind that,” he murmured, and she realized she’d spoken aloud. His legs tangled with hers, hard muscle against her skin. “We’ll live in here. Order out for food, like John and Yoko.” He feathered his lips along her shoulder and she shivered.

“Fake’s doesn’t deliver.” She arched her neck to give him better access. Her hands slipped around his back, then stroked along his shoulder blades. He slid his thigh between hers to increase their contact. He was already hard, pulsing. Her heart sped up and began to pound.

“Damn. Guess we’ll have to live on sex. Works for me.” He rubbed against her, one long, sensual glide of skin on skin. Yet his body didn’t overwhelm or demand. Since they’d become intimate, Denn remained easygoing, allowing her to set their pace. She couldn’t find the words to tell him how much she appreciated it.

Kendall reared back enough to see his eyes, slitted against the sun now pouring through the windows. She’d never seen eyes like his in her life, pure amber, large, and framed in eyelashes any woman would kill to have.

She raised her hand and traced them with one finger. “It’s not fair, you know. Men don’t even need these.”

“Sure we do.” He fluttered his lashes. “It pretties us up some. Otherwise we’d just look boring and plain.” His nose brushed against hers in a teasing Eskimo kiss. “You wouldn’t want me looking boring and plain, would you?”

“Heaven forbid.” Kendall thrust her hands into his hair and sifted the silky mass through her fingers. “I don’t think you have to worry about either, Nulo.” She gripped his hair and pulled at him until she could reach his mouth.

The kiss he gave her started out gentle. She uttered a soft moan and used her teeth on his bottom lip, her tongue a quick, hot spear as it dipped into his mouth. In answer, his lips hardened, deepening the kiss, demanding more as she told him without words what she needed, wanted.

He grasped her hips and pulled them up, urging her legs apart as he rose over her in the rumpled bed. His mouth caught her lobe and bit down before he moved lower and took her nipple with rough teeth and a tender tongue. The contrast drove her crazy.

“Denn . . .” She choked out his name as her nails dug into his back.

“Mmm.” He ran kisses along her ribs, then returned to her neck slowly, as if he had all day to make love to her. “You taste like sleep and yum.”

She dissolved into helpless laughter even as her body trembled beneath his, craving more. “What does ‘yum’ taste like, you goof?”

He raised his head and smiled into her eyes. “Yum tastes like yum. You know it when you have it. For instance”—he licked his way from her breast to her navel and dipped in—“here’s a spot of good, but it’s not quite yum.” Her belly quivered under his mouth.

He ventured lower, brushing the top of her curls with his chin. His lips curved when she gripped the back of his head. He whispered, “Right here, we’re starting to see some traces of yum. Won’t be long, now.”

“Oh, God.” Every muscle in her body strained in need. His mouth teased her so gently. “Denn, please—”

She jerked, crying out in the warm, sunlit room, when his lips parted and his tongue slipped over, and then into her wet flesh. He held her tightly, laving her deeply.

Her fingers twisted in his hair as she arched beneath his mouth. Against her convulsing flesh, he murmured, “Yum.”

Wendy came awake slowly, her sleep-encrusted eyes dry and achy, the bathroom tiles cold and hard beneath her body. With a groan, she struggled to a sitting position.

Sunlight filtered in through the ceiling skylight, enough for her to see she’d at least remembered to roll up a towel and shove it beneath her head. She couldn’t recall much of anything else, beyond the moment she walked out of her kitchen with her hand covered in chili. She flexed her fingers. Dried sauce still stained her hand.

She managed to rise to her knees, then held onto the tub rim and pushed to her feet, swaying in the shadowy room. Still wearing her old shorts and tee shirt, Wendy sat on the toilet lid and picked a chunk of dried tomato off one bare foot. She tried, without much success, to reflect on the day before, from the disastrous visit at Jo’s house, to the mess she’d left in her kitchen.

I walked away from everything. I deserted my guests.

She’d run to her private suite, locked the door behind her, and huddled against the wall. Ignored the bell, the voices she could faintly hear through her closed doors. Ignored it all.

Sometime before morning she’d crawled to the bathroom and curled on the floor, shivering, her mind replaying scenes from the day until she thought she might go mad. And for the first time since she’d operated The Four Hills Inn, her livelihood had taken a back seat—

To Denn. I’m jeopardizing all of it for a man who doesn’t give a flying shit for me.

Now Wendy scrubbed her face with a cold, wet washcloth, over and over, until her cheeks felt raw. More awake and alert, she stripped out of the soiled clothes. A shower would clear the rest of the cobwebs from her head. She walked into her bedroom to collect fresh clothes from her bureau.

As she closed the drawer, her eyes fell on a piece of yellow tab paper crumpled on the carpet. She picked it up and smoothed it out, her fingers tracing over names and phone numbers, email addresses. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at it.

It’s been a damned month. Maybe he didn’t get my letter.

Wendy tapped the paper thoughtfully. Last night she’d been too despondent, out of her head. She’d balled the paper and thrown it to the floor in a fit of tears and fury. Nobody cared, did they? Nobody cared a good goddamn if she found happiness, or not. Certainly Conroy Herington hadn’t cared, otherwise he’d have come to Staamat and collected his little bitch of a fiancée. But, if he didn’t see the letter to begin with . . .

Big difference. She couldn’t give up after only one attempt, could she? Otherwise, she may as well hide in the bathroom every night and cry the blues because the man of her dreams still floated beyond her reach, cradled in the arms of her enemy.
Well, that’s not going to happen.

Wendy checked her alarm clock. Six-ten. It would be after seven in Portland. She could take a chance and call the man. If he were a workaholic type, he’d be awake and probably at work. She listened for a few moments, but didn’t hear anyone stirring upstairs. Now might be her only chance to call, and she refused to wait another day.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Wendy grabbed the cordless phone from her nightstand, read off the numbers under her breath as she punched them in, and waited.

After five rings, a deep voice answered. “Conroy Herington.”

She clapped a hand over her mouth, suddenly unsure. If what she’d read on the restraining order was true, this man had abused Victoria Wyndham until she’d feared for her life and ran away. As a woman who’d met her share of male assholes, Wendy knew what it was like to be slapped around. One of her ex-boyfriends had been a slapper. She could have foisted a restraining order on his ass anytime she liked.

And yet, she’d been a bitch, hadn’t she? She’d been difficult to live with. Maybe Victoria Wyndham had been a bitch, too. Maybe she’d asked for a few slaps.
Sometimes, we ask for it, don’t we? Like Mom.

“Hello?” The voice held irritation and impatience, and Wendy started, shaken out of her indecisiveness.

She took a deep breath. “Mr. Herington, I’m calling from Staamat, Alaska. I have some information you might be interested in.”

“I need to get up.” Kendall wriggled.

“Yeah.” He pressed his nose in her hair, all of his limbs boneless, drained.

“Denn, I have to
go
. It’s almost seven-thirty. I still have to get Jeffie before I head to the store.” She squirmed in his arms and he tightened his grip.

“I’ll pay Jeffie to stay home, and I’ll arrest you for intention to drive to work naked,” he mumbled. “House arrest, that’s the ticket. Don’t think I can’t make it stick.” He strung kisses over her neck, loving the way her body clung to his despite her cute little protests.

She pushed weakly at his shoulder. “Come on, let me up.”

“Not until you say it.” He settled in against her with a sigh of contentment.

I could stay here, just like this, forever.

“Say it?” She thought for a moment. “Okay. You’re a complete loon.”

“Not that. We’ve already established my lunacy.” He cupped her face and brought her close for a long, deep kiss. Against her lips he whispered, “I want the other thing.” He eased away enough to hold her gaze. “But only if you’re ready.”

“Oh. The other thing.” She twined her arms around his neck and pressed closer. Her blue eyes had gone misty. “I might be ready, come to think of it.” Despite her confident words, he heard the shaky breath she took. But she kept her eyes locked to his as she whispered, “I love you. I’m utterly, forever-ly in love with your lunatic self.” Her voice dropped to a honey-rasp that pulsed straight to his soul. “Satisfied?”

He swallowed, his heart bursting with emotion. “Yeah.” He pulled her beneath his body, kissed her, and could have shouted aloud with joy when she twined herself around him and kissed him back.

An hour later, Kendall plowed through the rest of her cereal and set the empty bowl in the sink with a clatter. “All right, now I absolutely have to go.” When Denn advanced on her, she held out both hands as if to ward him off. “Keep your distance, you sex fiend. I’m barely able to stand upright as it is.”

He threw his head back and roared with laughter, then snatched her close and gave her a squeeze. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

She cupped the back of his neck and stroked his nape in a spot he found unbearably erotic. “If that’s all it takes, I can come up with lots of backhanded compliments.” With a sly tug on his hair, she wiggled out of his arms. “Now let me get to work before I lose all my customers and suffer a bad reputation in this town.”

He caught her hand and swung it as they left the house and walked to her truck, parked next to his. “Baby, you hang out with Nulo, you already got a bad reputation.”

“Oh, brother.” She pecked his cheek and climbed into the truck. “Are you going to swap me slave labor or should I keep Jeffie all day?”

“Let me see what Luna says. If she’s tired of diapers and basic newborn ca-ca, I’ll bring her over around two.” He leaned in the window for a final kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

He stepped back and waved as she drove away with a quick toot of her horn. Thinking about the day ahead, his good humor dropped some as he moved toward the Suburban. He still needed to see Wendy and find out what the hell she’d done with herself last night.

Denn sighed as he cranked the Suburban and shifted into gear. Stevie had taken final rounds and had reported no activity at the Four Hills. At midnight, with the inn’s guests asleep, it wouldn’t have been a concern. But in light of Wendy’s erratic behavior, Denn should have had Stevie go inside and check on her, using the key she’d given to the station for emergencies. It hung in a locked utility box along with keys to other local businesses. He could have asked Stevie to run back to the station and grab it.

He pulled up to Jo’s place and killed the engine. After he checked in and got his godson-fix, he’d head over to the Four Hills and confront Wendy.

At the Herington mansion, Conroy sat in the study, a gin and tonic at his elbow, and waited. He didn’t bother to look at his watch. She’d arrive in exactly thirty minutes as he’d requested. Her eagerness to please him had always been pathetically constant.

He’d left the office before noon, one of the perks of being the head of The Herington Group. Nobody questioned his decisions, whether or not they benefited the company. He’d been known to randomly close it down, costing his lower echelon employees vital salaries. Just as perversely, he’d open the office too early, leave it open too late, and keep those same employees away from their families, ruining plans and sometimes vacations. No one dared ask him why he did it, but if any of them had ever found the stones to question him, his reply would always be the same—

Because it amuses me.

Conroy sipped his drink, studied the knife-sharp crease of his charcoal wool slacks. He’d already removed the exquisitely tailored matching jacket and hung it up with meticulous care. He’d loosened his silk Armani tie and rolled up the sleeves of his Egyptian cotton dress shirt. A casual look for him, to be sure. But he had his reasons.

Anger and fury mixed together and boiled beneath the surface of the calm, urbane façade he’d cultivated over the years. Awakening early, in a moderately decent mood, he’d enjoyed his half grapefruit broiled in pineapple juice and brown sugar, his whole wheat toast and honey. Most of all he’d enjoyed arriving at the office at five AM, forcing the midnight shift security guard to make frantic calls to thirty-seven employees. Conroy had stood at the windows overlooking the rear parking lot and relished how they’d scurried toward the building like lemmings in reverse. Since most of them had arrived by six-thirty, he’d been in a gregarious mood and left instructions with Payroll to dock their pay by an hour instead of two.

Yes, he’d begun his morning quite decently, only to have it ruined in the most heinous way. By a member of his own family, no less. He’d left the office in a steaming fury, had driven himself to the Herington mansion, cursing under his breath for the entirety of the short trip.

Now he took a final sip of his drink and placed the squat, cut-crystal glass carefully on a thick, padded coaster, so as to avoid marring the gleaming surface of his mahogany desk. The massive piece of furniture had been in his family for a hundred years. He’d never seen anyone except his father sit behind its magnificence. Even his mother knew better than to use the desk or invade his father’s sanctum sanctorum.

BOOK: Unsafe Haven
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