In His Brother's Place (11 page)

“Jordan—” she whispered.

As if sensing what she needed, he moved against the side of the mattress and eased down onto his back, with her thighs straddling his hips and his sex deep inside her.

“I’m all yours, lady,” he muttered.

“Oh...”
Her breath emerged as a moan. Driven by instinct she pushed against him, deepening his thrust. With every move, her senses exploded, pounding, throbbing. Her body pulsed, clenching around his shaft as everything shattered in one glorious burst. She slumped over him, her tension drained away in a wash of sweet gratitude.

He drew her close, kissing her and cradling her in his arms. “You’re a bit of a naughty girl yourself,” he whispered. “Just let me finish here.”

With their bodies still joined, he rolled over on top of her. One last gliding thrust took him deep. He came with a groan and a shudder. Angie held him tight, feeling his powerful body relax in her arms. If only they could stay like this, she thought, shut away from the world, warm and close and at peace. But she knew better than to believe the moment would last.

A laugh rumbled in his throat as he slid off her and stretched out on his back. “Lord, Angie, you’ll be the death of me,” he muttered.

“I’d better go.” She sat up and began groping for her clothes.

“Don’t.” His hand closed around her wrists. “I know you’ll be wanting to get back to Lucas, but there’s time. Stay a little longer.”

“What if I go to sleep?”

“I know you, Angie. As long as Lucas is upstairs, you won’t let yourself nod off. And I won’t keep you long. I just don’t want to let you go yet.”

He curled on his side and drew her into the warm hollow next to his body. They lay quietly, his breath stirring her hair. Heaven, she thought. But she couldn’t let herself believe it would last.

“How long has it been since anyone’s taken care of you, Angie?” he asked.

His question caught her by surprise. She shook her head. “My parents died when I was sixteen. Even when they were alive, they were working so hard to keep food in our bellies that I was pretty much on my own.”

“So your answer is, not for a very long time?”

When had this conversation become so serious? “There was Justin, of course,” she ventured.

“Of course.” He pulled her closer into the curve of his body. “Did he take care of you?”

Angie sighed. “You know he was good to me. But somehow, I always seemed to be the one looking after him—getting him places on time, making sure he remembered things like birthdays. Justin was so sweet, so charming. It was as if he didn’t feel the need to account for himself....”

Her voice trailed off as she sensed his silence and realized what she’d just said.

“I’m sorry,” she added, flustered. “What an awful thing for me to say. Your brother was kind and generous.”

“Don’t apologize for speaking the truth. I did my own share of looking after my brother.” His throat moved against her hair as he swallowed. “What I’m trying to say is there’s no need for you to wear yourself out with work and worry. I know you value your independence, but I can easily take care of you and Lucas. I want to, Angie. To tell the truth, I need to.”

“But you take care of us already. You’ve given us this beautiful place to stay, good food, a reliable car....” Angie broke off as a realization struck her.

“You said you
needed
to take care of us? Why, Jordan?”

“Does there have to be a reason? Lucas is my brother’s
son. And you’re his mother. If you’d let me, there’s so much I could offer the two of you—travel all over the world, your own investments for the future, even your own home if you wanted one. And I could open doors, introduce you to—”

“Stop it.” Angie sat bolt upright, trembling. “Have you forgotten something?”

He stared up at her, his expression veiled in shadow, as she continued.

“Justin would still be here if it weren’t for me. But he died because it was my birthday, and he wanted to fly out to be with me. As if that weren’t enough, I kept Justin’s son, his own flesh and blood, hidden from your family for four years.”

Angie could feel her fragile control crumbling. She swung her feet to the floor and snatched up what she could find of her clothes, clutching them in front of her.

“Take care of me? Why would you want to? You and your mother have every reason to hate me!” She took a deep breath, feeling how perilously close she was to tears. “Sometimes I hate myself,” she whispered. “And that’s why I can’t accept anything more from you. Anything at all.” Gathering her clothes again, she headed for the door.

This time, he didn’t stop her.

Eleven

J
ordan punched his pillow as Angie’s retreating footsteps pattered into silence. Part of him wanted to run after her, but what could he say? There was no way he could convince her that she was wrong without telling her who was
really
to blame for Justin’s death. Still, he hated to think of the broken look in her eyes when she’d left. He never should have let her start on in the topic in the first place. All he’d really wanted was to keep her beside him in his bed long enough to lose himself inside her again. But one thing had led to another. Now here they were, at odds again. He had no one to blame but himself.

He’d claimed to have looked after his happy-go-lucky brother, and he had. What he hadn’t told her was how, in the end, he’d failed. When Justin had needed him most, he hadn’t been there. Worse, he’d driven his brother away—sent him off angry and hurt and rushing headlong into disaster.

Would Angie have come to his bed tonight if she’d known the full story?

But why even wonder? If she’d known, he was certain she wouldn’t have come within a hundred miles of him.

Wide awake now, he rolled onto his back and lay staring up at the dark
vigas
that crossed the whitewashed ceiling. With any other woman, he’d have shrugged off the conflict, kissed her goodbye and moved on. But Angie wasn’t just any woman. She and her son had become a vital part of his life, bringing out a tender protectiveness he hadn’t even known he possessed. He didn’t want to lose them. He didn’t want to lose
her.

Angie had shouldered the entire blame for Justin’s death. The truth would lighten her burden. It would also tarnish Justin—and him—in her eyes forever.

But the question was not
whether
to tell Angie. It was when and how. Jordan had been living a lie for four long years. Sooner or later that lie was bound to blow up in his face.

Angie had the right to know what had sent Justin’s plane crashing into that Utah mountain. As the only one who knew the full story, it would be up to Jordan to tell her. But not yet, he resolved. Until Lucas’s name was on the family trust as Justin’s heir, he couldn’t risk causing Angie to take her son and disappear from his life.

It was that damned balancing act again.

He needed to take action before something else went wrong. Maybe it would be a good idea to spend a few days at his condo in town. He could use some time to catch up on work at the office. More important, he could have the papers drawn up for the change to the trust and maybe even persuade his mother to sign them.

The more Jordan thought about the idea, the better it sounded. After tonight’s blistering encounter, Angie would probably welcome a break from him. And he could use some quiet time, too. Maybe without the distraction of wanting her every blasted minute of the day, he’d be able to get his head straight.

He would leave tomorrow at first light.

* * *

Back in her room, Angie dropped her clothes on a chair and slipped into her nightgown. Peeking in Lucas’s door, she found her son still fast asleep. Tiptoeing closer, she brushed a kiss across his forehead. His skin was cool, his breathing effortless. No fever. Thank heaven for small miracles, for Rudy...and for Jordan.

A warm flush crept over her skin as she remembered her behavior in Jordan’s bed.
Shameless
—there was no better word to describe it. Every part of her had craved him, and she’d taken all she could.

Things had been wonderful until Jordan had opened his mouth.

He’d talked about taking care of her. What on Earth was that supposed to mean? It couldn’t have been a marriage proposal. Jordan had never led her to believe he loved her.

Earlier, when she’d told him she wouldn’t be his mistress, he’d dismissed the notion as Victorian blather. But what else could the man have in mind? He may not have meant for his gifts to come across as payment for her favors in bed, but that was certainly how it seemed! The SUV had come right after their first night together, and now after a second encounter, he was offering to send her on expensive trips and set up investment accounts for her. He could call it what he liked, but it was an arrangement as old as human history, and she wanted no part of it!

So what did she want? She wanted to amount to something, to earn her own money, further her education, marry a good man who valued and respected her and give Lucas the chance to grow up in a loving home with brothers and sisters.

The longer she remained here on Jordan’s charity, the less likely she’d be to realize her own goals. If she gave in to what he wanted, she’d be no better than a house pet, living off Jordan’s money until he wearied of her and moved on to someone else.

Then what would she be?

And what about her son?

Her mind was fogging over. Exhausted, she walked back to her room, sank into bed and pulled the quilt up to her ears. She needed a day away from the ranch. And she needed a friendly ear. Tomorrow she would take Lucas, drive into town and spend some time with Raquel. A dose of her cousin’s warm wisdom could be just the right medicine for her troubled heart.

Still making plans, she tumbled into sleep.

* * *

Angie woke the next morning to find a folded note tucked under her door.

Gone into town for a few days. You have my cell. I’ll be in touch. J.

That was all. No details. No mention of last night. No word of affection. It was so damnably like Jordan that she wanted to grind her teeth.

Tossing the note into the wastebasket, she went to wake her son. Thank heaven she had her own plans. Maybe she could even put Jordan out of her mind for a few hours.

After a late breakfast and a quick game of “fetch” with Rudy, she bundled Lucas into his car seat and set out for downtown Santa Fe. Last night’s storm had swept eastward, leaving a light snow that glittered in the morning sunlight. The Sangre de Cristo Mountains rose diamond white against a sky of dazzling turquoise.

By now the stores would have their Christmas displays up. Lucas would enjoy that. They could wander around the Plaza and then drive somewhere for two-dollar burgers and root beer. She could call her cousin from the restaurant. That way they wouldn’t be showing up at Raquel’s unannounced and hungry.

By 11:00 they’d parked the car and were taking in the lights and decorations around the Plaza. Lucas’s eyes were wide with wonder. Last year he’d been too young to understand or remember much about Christmas. This year he noticed everything. He’d be chattering about it all the way home.

By the time they’d strolled in and out of uncounted shops, exclaiming over toys and sampling free treats, Angie was getting tired. Lucas whined when she announced it was time to go back to the car but cheered up at the mention of a kiddie meal. They were headed back around the Plaza when she heard a reedy male voice behind her.

“Angie Montoya! What a small world!”

She turned to see a lanky, bespectacled man grinning down at her. Awkward seconds ticked by before she remembered him. It was Trevor Wilkins, Justin’s old friend who’d cornered her at Jordan’s party.

“I’ve been hoping I’d see you again,” he said. “The last time we met I’d had a few drinks. If I crossed the line and made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. Will you accept my apology?”

“Of course.” Angie gave him a smile. True, he’d been mildly obnoxious. But until now she hadn’t given his behavior—or him—a second thought.

His gaze fell on Lucas. “So this is your son. I can see a lot of Justin in him.”

“Everyone seems to.” Angie was aware of Lucas tugging at her hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were just leaving to get some lunch at Burger Box.”

“Oh?” Trevor brightened. “Then why not have lunch with me? I have a table reserved at
La Fonda.
I’d love to treat the two of you.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you, but I couldn’t impose.”
La
Fonda,
the old hotel on the Plaza, was a Santa Fe legend. Its
La Plazuela
dining room was way out of Angie’s price range.

“Give me one good reason why not,” Trevor argued.

“Have you ever eaten in a nice restaurant with a three-year-old?”

“I have nephews. Come on, don’t worry about it. Just lunch. No strings attached.”

Angie sighed. Trevor had been Justin’s good friend, and she didn’t want to offend him. There was no graceful way to refuse. “All right,” she said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

It was barely noon, but the elegant 1920s dining room was already filling up. Trevor’s table was in a quiet corner. Angie plotted a line to the nearest door. With luck Lucas would behave. But he was getting cranky, and the only way to deal with a three-year-old meltdown was a fast exit.

The server brought a booster seat along with the menus. “I want a hamburger,” Lucas said.

Trevor glanced up from his menu. “They do a good burger here. But it’s pretty big.”

“In that case, we’ll split it,” Angie said. “Nothing but meat on Lucas’s half, everything on mine. Can they do that?”

It seemed they could. The server took their orders and left them to make small talk. Angie was seated next to the wall with a view of the rest of the dining room. Trevor sat across from her, his back to the other tables. Thus he didn’t notice the couple who walked into the restaurant—the tall handsome man dressed in a sweater and tweed jacket, the older woman, her crimson pantsuit and silver hair impeccable.

Angie shrank in her chair as Jordan and his mother took their seats.

* * *

Jordan had spotted Angie at once. He opened the menu, doing his best to ignore her. There was no reason to get upset, he told himself. Angie was a free woman. But a rendezvous with Trevor Wilkins? The sight of her and Lucas at Trevor’s table had hit him like a kick in the gut.

At least his mother was facing away from them. Jordan had brought Meredith here, to her favorite restaurant, in the hope of easing her toward accepting Angie and Lucas. So far she’d seemed agreeable. But seeing Angie with another man could set off an avalanche of suspicion.

Not that Trevor was a bad sort. He’d inherited his father’s real estate agency and often did business with Jordan’s firm. Maybe he was just what Angie needed—decent, steady, dependable...and boring.

Had Angie called Trevor when she’d found herself free for the day? That made sense. But if this was some kind of romantic liaison, why had she brought Lucas along? Damn it, these questions were driving him crazy.

He had no right to be jealous. Angie may have shared his bed, but she wasn’t wearing his ring. He had no claim on her.

And he wasn’t the jealous type. Even his ex-wife’s affair had left him cold—he’d expected it to happen and hadn’t much cared.

Jordan could only remember feeling jealousy at one period in his life. That was while his brother was engaged to Angie Montoya. He’d pushed his emotions aside then, and he could do it now.

Focusing on the menu, Jordan forced himself to make pleasant conversation with his mother. Maybe if he kept her distracted, she wouldn’t turn around and see what was right in his line of vision.

* * *

Lucas scowled at the plate in front of him. “This isn’t my hamburger. My hamburger comes in a clown box.”

Angie sighed. “This hamburger is special, Lucas. See, you have half and I have half. It’s yummy. Taste it.”

“No.” Lucas shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

“How do you know you don’t like it? You haven’t even tried it.” Trevor’s adult logic wasn’t helping.

“I get a toy with my hamburger. I want a toy!”

People at nearby tables were glancing around. “Lucas, that’s enough!” Angie hissed. “One more word and we’re out of here.”

“I want a toy!” Lucas’s voice rose to a full-decibel three-year-old whine.
“I...want...a...TOY!”

With everyone in the restaurant staring, Angie snatched up her son and dashed for the nearest exit.

* * *

“And then what happened,
querida?
” Raquel added a dollop of cream to her coffee.

“Trevor came after me with my purse. I apologized to him in the lobby and left.” Angie forced herself to nibble a fresh cinnamon
churro
dusted with sugar.

“So Jordan and his mother saw you.”

“Everybody saw us! I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”

“And there you were with Trevor.” Raquel chuckled. “Why should I watch the
telenovelas
when I’ve got my crazy little cousin?”

“It isn’t funny, Raquel. For all I know, Jordan’s mother thinks Trevor and I are conspiring to rob her family blind. Heavens, I scarcely know the man!”

“So you don’t plan on dating him? He seems to like you—and I hear he’s got money.”

Angie shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. After today, I can’t imagine Trevor would want to see me again.”

“And Jordan?”

Angie’s gaze flickered downward. Through the window of Raquel’s cheerful kitchen came the shouts of children playing tag in the patio.

Raquel’s sharp eyes took on a knowing expression. “Don’t tell me it happened again!
Chica,
what do you think you’re doing?”

Angie shrugged, fighting tears. “I don’t know. I don’t understand him. That’s why I’m here.”

“Do you love him?” Raquel asked gently.

“I don’t know. Jordan isn’t an easy man to love.”

“Does he love you?”

“He’s never said so. Only that he wants to take care of me and Lucas. What’s that supposed to mean? What would make a man say something like that?”

Raquel’s brows furrowed above her dark eyes. “Guilt, maybe?”

“Guilt?” Angie felt the word slam into her. “You mean guilt over Justin’s death? But the crash wasn’t Jordan’s fault. It was mine.”

“That’s what you’ve always assumed.” Raquel refilled Angie’s cup with hot black coffee. “How much do you know about the accident? Tell me what you remember.”

Angie sipped her coffee. She’d done her best to bury the events leading to Justin’s plane crash. It wouldn’t be easy, bringing them to light again.

“Justin and Jordan had been at odds over our engagement,” she began. “They were barely speaking to each other. As a Christmas gift, their parents booked them a ski trip in Park City, Utah.”