Intimate Secrets

She turned away and started out of the tack room. She’d clean up the mess tomorrow. “If it was even Raymond,” she added.

He moved in front of her, reminding her how fast he was on his feet as he blocked the door, blocked her exit. “It was Raymond.” His voice was deep and soft and sent a chill through her as she was reminded of another time and place that Clay Jackson had been this close.

“Raymond led me all the way from Texas straight as a shot to you,” Clay said, leaning closer, trapping her. “Come on, Josie. We both know what Raymond’s looking for.”

He was so close she could feel his breath against her cheek, smell his too-familiar male scent. Everything about him seemed to radiate a low-frequency electricity. She felt a buzz when she was around him and always had. But it seemed stronger somehow. More so than she remembered it.

“He’s looking for the jewels.”

She swallowed but said nothing, her nerves raw with the nearness of him. His body seemed to fill the tack room, making it as hot and sultry as a Texas summer night.

“That’s right, you don’t know anything about the robbery,” he said, his tone clearly calling her a liar. “A rare collection of rubies, diamonds and emeralds, all irreplaceable. Intact, the jewelry would be impossible to fence. Too distinctive. Too easy to track. So what would the thieves do?”

How would she know? Why would she care? She knew nothing about getting rid of stolen property. And why did Clay Jackson think she did?

She shook her head, slowly, infinitesimally, afraid to move too much for fear of touching him. Or worse, him touching her.

He smiled. A halogen smile against the dark stubble of a day’s growth of beard. He leaned so close it reminded her of the last time she’d seen him two years ago. He’d kissed her beside her barn in Texas. She didn’t need the reminder. Not now. Not anymore.

She held her breath. But he didn’t kiss her, although she did wonder if he, too, had been reminded of that kiss. Had purposely made her remember.

“It’s hard to believe a petty small-time criminal like Raymond could pull off such a score, isn’t it?” he said. “Even with the help of someone like Odell Burton.”

She’d known Clay would get to Odell eventually. “I heard he was dead.”

“Yeah, but he’d have needed an accomplice.”

“Raymond.”

He shook his head slowly, his smile gone. “I’m talking about someone smart. Someone who knew about the security plans and knew how to get them. Talk to me, Josie,” he whispered. “Tell me what really happened that night.”

Something in his voice, a slight break that could have been born of passion or pain, made her wonder which night he was referring to. She looked into his eyes and felt that old familiar rush. Like standing on the edge of a cliff. A combination of danger and exhilaration. Fear and longing. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her heart drummed, the beat accelerating.

“Josie? Are you all right?”

They both turned at the sound of the voice behind them past the open tack room doorway. Mildred stood in the light, her expression worried. In her arms, she held a sleepy-eyed Ivy.

“Ivy woke and was frightened,” Mildred said. “We came down to look for you—”

Clay stepped from the doorway and Josie rushed past him to take Ivy in her arms.

“Ma-ma,” Ivy said, and snuggled against her.

Josie heard Clay’s quick intake of breath as he came out of the tack room. She cradled her daughter to her, bracing herself as she turned and let her gaze rise to his.

He stared at her, then Ivy, his dark eyes wide with shock for the second time tonight. “I knew it,” he whispered. “I damn well knew it.”

“I understand you’ve already met my daughter Ivy,” Josie said, bracing herself for the inevitable.

He dragged his gaze from Ivy’s face to her own. His expression darkened, like a storm rolling in.

“I always wondered why you left Texas in such a hurry,” he said, his words striking her like stones. “I guess I know now. At least one of the reasons. Did Odell know he had a daughter? Or is that just another of your well-kept secrets?”

Chapter Three

Josie with a baby! The same little girl he’d seen in town with the elderly baby-sitter he’d mistaken for a grandmother. Hadn’t the toddler reminded him so much of Josie that he hadn’t been able to resist taking a closer look?

But the little girl hadn’t had Josie’s incredible blue eyes. Now he realized that was because the baby had taken after her father. Odell.

He should have known. This at least explained part of Josie’s hurried departure from Texas. No wonder she hadn’t told her family.

He stared at Ivy for a long moment, surprised by the emotions that rushed him. She looked so much like her mother. In fact, she was the spitting image of Josie—except for the eyes.

This could have been my child.

The thought came out of left field, blindsiding him.

Josie hugged Ivy protectively to her, telling herself she shouldn’t have been surprised. She should have known he’d see Odell in her daughter. Should have known he’d question if Odell had known she was pregnant. Still, she felt sick inside. What would he do now?

Or was that the least of her worries?

She looked into his angry face, trying hard to understand what it was about her that made him so angry with her. “Odell knew I was pregnant.”

That seemed to surprise him. “You told him?”

“He guessed,” she admitted.

Clay frowned. “That must have been what the two of you were arguing about that day by your barn. I’m sure Odell wanted nothing to do with a baby.”

She looked down at her daughter. Ivy had fallen asleep again, her tiny cherub cheek warm and pink against Josie’s shoulder, the dimpled arms locked around her neck. Odell had been furious about her pregnancy. She shivered at the memory of his threat.

When she looked up again, Clay’s gaze seemed to soften. “So you struck out on your own. Just the two of you.”

Was that grudging admiration she heard in his voice?

“What did you use for money, Josie? I know you didn’t take much with you when you left.”

So much for admiration. She knew what he was implying. “I worked.”

“Pregnant?”

“I did what I had to do,” she said stubbornly, unwilling to admit how she’d really managed alone, broke and pregnant. Unwilling because she was ashamed of what she’d done. And it really wasn’t any of his business.

“You know I’m going to find out the truth.”

“My life doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t true. Clay was definitely one of the reasons she’d left Texas.

“We should get the baby to bed,” Mildred interrupted.