Incredible Dreams (19 page)

She checked all the usual places—under the bed, inside drawers, cupboards, and closets—finding nothing. Her knees weakened with her mounting frustration and disappointment. She dropped to the bed and laced her fingers together in her lap. Outlandish thoughts crossed her mind as her eyes traveled around the room.

No wedding ring
.
No marriage license
. No proof or memorabilia anywhere in this tiny apartment. All these things combined made no sense.

The door opened and Izzy rose from the bed. Jeannie entered, wearing a green suit. She looked pretty, Izzy thought, and no worse for wear and tear from the accident. Not even the slightest limp from her banged up knee. Odd.

“You’re home. Good.” Jeannie latched onto her arm and tugged her back down to the bed. The sisters sat together. “I heard you had lunch with George.” An insinuated request for more information accompanied her words, but it did little to encourage Izzy into gossiping about George.

“Do you know where I keep my marriage license?” Izzy asked in a somewhat strangled voice.

For a second, panic paled Jeannie’s face ashen. She sat motionless for what seemed like an eternity, frozen, before any expression washed over her facade, and then repainted it with a smile. “Sure.” She dropped to her knees and half-way disappeared underneath the bed, reemerging seconds later with a shoebox. “Here you go.” Jeannie offered her the container. The shadow lurking in her eyes startled Izzy.

Wait a minute
— That box wasn’t there moments ago when Izzy checked under the bed.
Was it
? It must have been. Jeannie certainly didn’t pull it out of her sleeve. Did she?

Izzy considered questioning the box as she braced her fingers around it, but decided against it. She eased the lid off with a bit of hesitance. A strange feeling swept over her, churning her stomach into knots.

Inside the carton lay a folded document pleated open, previewing its purpose—a marriage license. She dared to touch it, afraid of what she’d find.

Izzy plucked the paper from the box as if she’d lose her hand. Curiosity begged her to examine the document even though she was still afraid of the outcome. The sight of her name listed as the bride crushed Izzy. Harry’s name had been filled in as the groom, confirming her fears—they truly were married.

She read the particulars—bride’s age, groom’s age, their places of birth and such, but her mind refused to take it in or accept it.

Under the marriage license, she found birth certificates for herself and Harry, and a few photographs. She examined each one, easily identifying herself but none of them, not one, sparked the least bit of emotion or recollection. Izzy felt like she was looking at the life of some look-a-alike who was in fact a stranger.

She stared at the photograph of herself and a young man, whom Jeannie readily identified as Harry. Izzy wanted to feel something, and she wanted to remember something. Anything. But it was no use. Nothing seemed right, nothing felt familiar about the man in the picture.

With an air of vagueness, Izzy tucked the box under one arm and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Jeannie asked with quick bird-like movements, trying to land between Izzy and the door.

Izzy wedged herself between Jeannie and the exit. As she opened the door, the notion to lie flooded her judgment. “For a walk. I’m got some processing to do.” Izzy retreated into the hallway. With a shell of apathy, she closed the door between herself and Jeannie. Remorse for misleading her sister did not overcome her and she felt no guilt for her misdirection.

Instead of going for a mere walk, she high-tailed it to the base and back to see Corporal Larry Thompson.

G
eorge strolled through the park, suspicious of Jeannie Miller’s request for a meeting. Ever since his chat with her sister on the way to Montecito, he no longer trusted Jeannie.

Cutting through a patch of trees, he saw her sitting on a park bench. Prudence twisted in his gut and stiffened the rest of his body. “Jeannie.” His indifference chilled the air. George dropped down beside her, leaving plenty of room between them.

Jeannie Miller was dangerous.

She had the touch, sexually, even though she wasn’t necessarily that appealing in the looks department. For George, looks didn’t matter so much as willingness, but Jeannie wasn’t that bad. She was pretty enough, but the fire hadn’t ignited like it did when he looked at Izzy. Not until Jeannie touched him.

Jeannie’s touch, at first he thought it was magical, but now he just looked at it as lethal. When she brought him pleasure, it was so fantastically gratifying that at the moment before fulfillment, she could ask him anything and he’d gladly promise her the moon just for a moment’s pleasure.

George realized the danger in that, and went to the park intending to keep a safe distance between them. But when Jeannie placed her hand on the bench between them, his loins stirred urging him to move closer. He fought it but the struggle was all-consuming.

“George, how are you?” she asked with a lustful gleam in her eye.

He struggled to tear his gaze away, to sever the connection he knew she was establishing. “I’m fine.” Unable to break away, he gave her a once-over. His eyes grazed over her small breasts peeking out from the low-cut dress, his heart palpitated lust through his veins.

“I heard you had lunch with my sister,” she said in a deep, honeyed voice.

“Word gets around fast.” His eyes were still glued to the inviting curves of her body. Her breasts seemed, not necessarily bigger but definitely more prominent than before. Maybe that was because he wanted to touch them, rough-handle them, mold them around his—

Jeannie’s voice broke into George’s thoughts with an undeniable harshness. “Are you going to give her what she wants, or what?” Her severity allowed him to break the hold she’d cast over him. For the moment.

“What exactly do you think she wants from me?” He tried to reinforce the need for caution in his thought processes.

“She wants you to have sex with her.” Her voice, now sounding fond and sly, had an almost seductive ring to it. Even so, he was able to rally common sense around his thoughts.

Jeannie’s statement was an unrealistic observation, as well as an odd and crude way to put it. “Really?” Doubt rumbled out in his laughter. “And how do you know this?”

“She told me.” She crooked her neck and cut her eyes at him, then shot him a look that said
Izzy wants you
.

He was almost convinced of Jeannie’s implication when Izzy’s own words while on the road to Montecito, those that questioned the validity of her relationship with her sister, crossed his mind. “That’s funny.” He chuckled, realizing her deceit.

“Why is that so funny?” Jeannie trailed her hand across the bench toward him, moving closer.

She touched him and his desire ignited as her fingers traveled up his arm. Blood rushed to his head, bringing with it anticipation. He waited anxiously for her hand to slip inside his shirt. Her touching his bare skin would mean desire overload.

He wanted to take her right here, right now, in the park, and satisfy that insatiable sexual desire that only came from her touch. It was like a monster eating him alive.

“Why—” Jeannie’s voice wrapped him in a sense of false security. “—is that so funny, George?” She withdraw her hand from inside his shirt and traced it down toward his groin.

“Ahm...” His voice cracked as he tried to remember what indeed was so funny. He had no clue. All he knew right now was that he wanted to take Jeannie, by force if necessary, and he was certain she’d approve.

Jeannie stood and stepped in front of him. George captured her wrist and yanked her down on top of him. She straddled his lap and fidgeted, either to tease him or examine his manhood—which he wasn’t sure. Either way, he enjoyed it.

“It’s really not a good idea to taunt me.” He grabbed her hips and yanked her over his growing erection with hard, vigorous strokes.

“Going to get a little forceful, are we?” Her question was goading more than fearful. “I know what you want and you can have it, any way you like.” She paused, moving in closer, brushing her breasts against him. “But first, you have to do it to Izzy,” she said, nibbling on his ear. “She likes the forcefulness...only more. The harder you play with her, the more she’ll thank you.”

She left his manhood with a powerful thrust before slipping away from him. In essence, leaving the brunt of his desire to retarget toward Izzy.

She stopped over him and leaned down, exposing her breasts in all their glory, her nipples hard and firm, begging for his tongue. “You give it to her real good, and I’ll take you to the moon.” She grazed her bosom against his chin and over his mouth. He parted his lips, even though his sensibility said no, and let his tongue taste her forbidden fruit. “When she says no...she means do it rougher, harder.”

Jeannie’s audacity mesmerized George. His better senses urged him to proceed with caution, but she’d ignited a burning desire, one that was hard to put aside. The will was too strong for him to dismiss. If Isabelle Miller was half the wild-cat her sister proclaimed, he was going to have a good time dousing her fire.

Chapter 21

CORPORAL LARRY THOMPSON waited until Izzy closed the door behind her. Once she disappeared from sight, he reached for the telephone. He waited for the Post Operator’s brief introduction before speaking. “Get me the 479th,” he said, tapping his fingers on the desk. He listened as a clerk answered the phone at the squadron’s base. “Captain Jack Baker, please.” Another short pause and the Corporal silently urged Baker to hurry up and answer the call.

“Baker.” The captain’s voice filtered across the wire.

“It’s Thompson.” He paused, catching his breath. “Turns out your man is quite popular.”

“Excuse me?”

“Harry Walker.”

“You found him?” Baker’s tone perked up.

“No, I still haven’t located him. But you’re not the only one looking for him.”

“What?” The sound of confusion fueled Baker’s inquiry.

“Apparently his wife is anxious to find him. She brought in all sorts of information to assist in the hunt.” Thompson fiddled with the documents she’d left in his care.

“You think you’ll be able to find him now?” Hope filled Baker’s voice, although the corporal didn’t understand why. In Baker’s shoes, there was no way Thompson would be trying to bring the man home.

But it wasn’t his place to pass judgment. His job was to find Walker, especially now that he had a legitimate reason. The man’s wife had requested it. “I’m confident of it.”

“Good.” Baker expressed his gratitude, but Thompson knew better. The captain’s intentions might seem like good ones, but Thompson knew the last thing Baker truly wanted was for Harry Walker to come home to his wife.

“That’s weird how she doesn’t remember him, huh?” Thompson said in passing. “She seemed overwhelmed—really uncertain about the whole affair. Any way you look at it...searching for a husband you can’t remember has got to be tough.”

“Very.” Baker’s tone quieted, sounding vague.

Corporal Thompson heard Jack utter an anthem of thanks just before the line went dead. After a brief interlude of rest, he went back to the task of locating Captain Harry Walker. With this much information, it shouldn’t take more than a few days to pinpoint his location.

J
ack knew it was a bad idea, but he didn’t care. If Izzy had made the decision to search for Harry, he had to know that she was okay with it mentally.

He was scheduled to fly an early evening patrol, but had enough time to drop by the boarding house beforehand. If she wasn’t in, he resolved to drop by the Cool Cat after his patrol.

J
ack cruised to a stop in front of the boarding house and glanced at it as he killed the engine. He knew he was running the risk of getting his heart stomped on—again. That was the most likely scenario, but he had to think of Isabelle and put her well-being before his own ego.

“Jack, ole man, you are a glutton for punishment.” He jumped out of the car and pushed himself toward the house.

The gentleman in him knocked on the door even though Dottie had told him, more than once, to show himself into the parlor. The door opened and it didn’t surprise him to see Jeannie standing there.

“Jack.” Her less than friendly tone chilled the air.

“Jeannie, is Isabelle home?” He removed his aviator's cap and held it in front of him.

“No, Jack, she’s not.” Jeannie stepped outside, her presence pushing him toward the edge of the porch. “She’s at work. Why?”

He thought to inquire if Isabelle was okay, but thought better of it. For some reason, sharing any information with Jeannie didn’t sit right with him. “I just wanted to see how she’s doing, see.”

“She’s fine. She’s been hanging out with George lately.” Jeannie leaned down and touched her wounded knee. “They got kind of close after the accident.”

“Yes, I heard about that. I’m glad to see you’re faring okay.” He fiddled with his cap to hide his insincerity. He couldn’t care less about her welfare.

“Thank you.” She smiled. Her silence indicated she was going to offer no further information.

Isabelle’s social calendar was none of Jack’s business. “Hadley, huh?” Still, his anger raged, picturing the two of them together.

“Well...” Jeannie glanced around and stepped closer to Jack. “She’s insistent upon carrying on behind Harry’s back. And quite frankly, I guess you were the lesser of two evils.”

“The lesser of two evils?” He gave her a look, part confused, part skeptical.

“She and Harry...they have this weird sexual thing going on.” The glint in Jeannie’s eyes didn’t escape Jack’s notice. She was enjoying this a little too much. She leaned closer to him and whispered, “she likes it, you know...rough. Well, worse than rough, actually.” Jeannie threw her head back and laughed out loud.

Jack’s disgust, he was sure, escaped in the look he shot her. He wasn’t sure about much these days, but what he did know quite well were Isabelle’s sexual habits. And her preferences didn’t consist of masochistic tendencies.

Jack was determined now, more than ever, to see Isabelle at the Cool Cat later that evening.

A
fter his evening patrol, Jack didn’t bother cleaning up. He went straight to the Cool Cat in his flight suit. He justified his actions with the thought that he shouldn’t clean himself up to try and impress a married woman. His conscience told him he was right.

He didn’t want to put any pressure on Isabelle or place her in an awkward position. He just wanted to know that she was okay.

Cars crowded the parking lot and he decided to head around back. After a bit of searching, he parked the car and walked up the opposite side of the building from which he’d come. Turning the corner, he was surprised to find Isabelle with a choke hold on George, whom she had backed up against the building.

“If you touch me again...I’ll rip your balls off and shove ‘em down your throat!” The tone of her voice was neither playful nor inherently sexual. Nope, there was nothing amorous about her warning.

And Jack knew, he was right. Apparently, George had gotten a little too personal and Isabelle had somehow managed to put him in his place.

“Isabelle?” he said softly, not wanting to alarm either of them. He wanted her to know she wasn’t alone.

She glanced over her shoulder and her gaze relaxed when she looked into his eyes. She shoved herself off George and moved toward Jack. “Hey,” she said, breathless.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, looking past her shoulder at George.

“Nothing. Just a misunderstanding, that’s all.” George moved away from them both. Capriciousness and a bit of fright colored George’s face as he backed several steps away. Jack shot him a threatening glare and George took off.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jack turned his attention back to Isabelle. He touched her arm and gently led her away.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She walked with him willingly. For once she wasn’t objecting to them being together, and that bothered him. Maybe she’d gotten past
them
. He found that a little unsettling.

“What did I just walk in on?” he asked, still wondering about the gravity of what he’d witnessed.

“That was just me kicking George’s ass.” She was ready to go another round if need be, and it showed in her voice.

“I saw that,” he said, a chuckle trailing his words. Hadley was about an inch taller than Jack and a bit stockier too. It was a rare occasion that a woman could best a guy like that. “How’d you manage to put Hadley up against the wall anyway?”

“Woman’s best friend,” she said with confidence. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking for clarification. With a smile, she willingly gave it. “A little thing called Tae Kwon Do.”

Jack repeated her answer, barely mouthing the words. “Tae Kwon—what?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Um...it’s a form of martial arts.” She didn’t know how she knew that. It just came to her from out of nowhere—both the name and the ability.

“Well, I hope you never use it on me.”

“Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”

“You need a ride?” he asked, sliding his hands inside his pockets.

“Sure,” she said with ease and casualness.
Why not
? Even though Jack didn’t know it, she was planning on divorcing her husband for him. Hell, she might as well give him a nibble, even if she couldn’t tell him the whole truth.

J
ack shut the engine off and coasted the car to a stop in front of the boarding house. She glanced at him, wanting very much to move in closer and kiss him. But she didn’t dare.

“Thanks for the ride, Jack,” she said, wrapping her hand around the door handle.

“You’re welcome. Are you okay?” he asked, keeping his hands on the steering wheel.

“Yes.” She smiled. “I’m fine.”

“I hope you get everything your heart desires, Isabelle.” He kept his stare straight ahead.

“Me too.” She wished she could tell him her true plans. But she had to think of him, rather than her own wishes.

“You sure he didn’t hurt you?” he asked, finally looking at her.

“No, Jack.” She shook her head. “How’ve you been? You doing okay?” She made small-talk just so she didn’t have to get out of the car.

“All things considered...” He turned his attention back to the road in front of him, propped his hand up in the open window and forgot about adding anything further to his opening.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, taking a quick look from the corner of his eye.

“For coming to my rescue.”

“I guess it’s the thought that counts, huh?” He chuckled a little, and the urge to hug him overwhelmed her.

Stop it, Izzy
! Her heart pounded, aching desire coursing through her body. Somehow, she called herself down. She had to keep it together just a little longer—for Jack’s sake. “Nobody will ever take your place in my heart.” She hoped he took that the way she meant it. She loved him, but she didn’t think it was fair to hang him on the line with it. If Jack knew her plans, he may jeopardize himself in order to be with her before the divorce. And Izzy couldn’t have that. What if Harry put up a fight? Things could get messy fast.

He turned to her with a smile, reached out and caressed her cheek. She thought for a second that she’d gone too far. If he pulled her to him, she couldn’t resist.

“If you ever need anything, and I mean anything at all...” He paused a moment and tapped her playfully on the nose. “You just call and I’ll be there.”

Izzy started singing about the seasons and how she’d come running if he called. She stopped abruptly as fear burned hot against her cheeks.
Where did that come from
?

“Nice song, Isabelle. Is it yours?”

She hesitated, drawing a deep breath before answering. “No. At least, I don’t think it is.”

“It’s unusual, but I like it.”

She wanted so badly to wrap herself around him and decided she had to get away now, before her desires got the best of her and she ended up putting no one but Jack on the line. “I’d better go.” She knew it hadn’t sounded as confident as she would’ve liked, so she avoided looking at him.

Without a word, Jack hopped out of the car and trotted around to open her door. She took the hand he offered and stepped out.

“Thanks,” she said, still avoiding eye contact. She let him drape her arm around his and lead her into the yard.

They strolled the sidewalk together in silence. She didn’t speak, too wrapped in savoring the feel of his touch. It might take some time to finalize the divorce. Until then, she’d just have to settle for these little innocent encounters.

He led her up the steps and stopped at the door, placing a hand over hers. “You take care of yourself, Isabelle.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against her cheek.

“You too.” She had trouble looking at him, although she wanted to.

“I’d best be going,” he said, backing away. He nodded politely, turned and sprinted down the steps.

“Hey, Jack,” she said as he walked away. “See you ’round,” she added as he glanced over his shoulder.