Midnight Promises

“You teach English as a Second Language because you’re fascinated by other places, other peoples.”

“I—you’re wrong. There’s a great demand for ESL teachers—it made sense to go where I’d be needed, that’s all.”

His lips thinned. He paced over to the box she’d just finished filling and started digging around in it.

She came to her feet. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I know they’re here somewhere.” He moved to another box, one she’d already sealed, and pulled the tape off.

“Stop that.” She moved over to him, shoving at his hand.

He ignored her, ripping open the box and grabbing a handful of the contents—her collection of old National Geographic magazines. “How many back issues do you have, Annie? How long have you been dreaming about faraway places?”

“Oh, good grief! Millions of people read National Geographic who don’t have some secret yen to take off for Tunisia!”

“But most of them weren’t abandoned by parents who preferred those faraway places to staying home and raising their kids. Parents who died in one of those faraway places.”

She froze. How could he? How could he throw that in her face? “My mother didn’t abandon us. And my father had to work.”

“You mother was gone almost as much as your father, from what Charlie has told me.”

“She felt that her place was with her husband, whenever possible,” she said stiffly. “She knew we’d be fine with Nana.” Hurt throbbed through her. She turned away. “I had no idea you were building some kind of a fantasy based on my reading material. There’s no deep, dark secret here, Jack. I like to read about distant places. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it?” He shook his head. “Maybe I’ve got some selfish reasons for not wanting you to move back to Highpoint, Annie. But not all of my reasons are selfish. I don’t want to see you bury yourself there.”

She turned around. He was close. Too close. He stood only a hand’s breadth away now, his bitter-chocolate eyes intent on her face, his long, perfect body near enough that she could feel the heat from it. Her heart began to pound out a strange, erratic beat. “You’re seeing me through the lens of your own compulsions, Jack. I’m not the one who feels trapped if I stay in one place for too long.”

“No, unfortunately you don’t feel trapped in Highpoint. You feel safe.”

“What’s wrong with feeling safe? What’s wrong with wanting to be around people who know me, people I’ve known all my life?”

“I hope there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be around people who know you.” His crooked grin was familiar. The look in his eyes wasn’t. “Since that’s one of the things I like best about you. You know me better than just about anyone. Annie, don’t go back to Highpoint. Come away with me, instead.”

“What? What did you say?”

“Come with me when I leave on my next job. You can teach. There will be plenty of people who want to learn, believe me, and I’ll take care of you. I can make you feel safe, Annie.”

“I can’t believe you said that.” Jack had never been overprotective the way her brothers were. He’d been the one who taught her rock climbing—he had insisted on it, in fact, showing her how planning and knowledge minimized the risks. Annie could handle almost anything if she knew what the risks were and could plan for them.

But you couldn’t control some risks. She licked her lips nervously. “You’re looking at me funny. I wish you’d quit it.”

His eyes drifted to her mouth. “Funny?” he said absently. “I guess so. I’ve always liked your mouth, Annie.”

“What?” Alarm had her heart jumping into her throat. She raised one hand to where her pulse throbbed, as if she could force her heart back where it belonged. “What are you talking about?”

“Your mouth. Maybe…” he murmured, and she had the feeling he was talking to himself, not her. “Maybe it’s time.” He started to lower his head.

She jerked hers back. “What are you doing?”

His grin flashed. “Isn’t it obvious? Here. I’ll show you.” And his mouth came down on hers.

The shock of it held her still for a moment too long. Long enough for the pleasure to catch her, a shimmering loop of pleasure that settled over her in one quick shiver. Long enough for a thrill to chase itself up and down her spine as his lips moved on hers…oh, such smooth and clever lips. She had wondered. For years she’d wondered about Jack’s kisses as much as she’d feared them, fighting the need and the curiosity with her too-complete knowledge of the man. One taste, and wonder overtook fear in a burst of heat. His hand was at her nape and his fingers were as clever as his mouth, drawing chills across her flesh, making her ache. It was too much.

It wasn’t enough.

That thought made her turn her head away from his lazy, maddening mouth. “Jack, this is stupid. You don’t think of me this way—you know you don’t!”

Turning her head hadn’t saved her. It only left other places available to him. When his mouth skimmed along her cheek to the sensitive skin just under her jaw, she shivered. He chuckled, damn him. “Of course I’ve thought of you ‘this way’ from time to time. I’m a man.” He nibbled at her earlobe. “I just never let myself do anything about it before, because we’re friends.”

“Then why—oh, stop that!” She got herself together enough to push away the hand that had wandered up her side, nearly reaching her breast.

He obeyed, straightening to look at her. “You’re trying to leave me, Annie. I don’t want you to go.” His eyes were dark and unreadable—magician’s eyes, capable of raising both heat and hope in a woman who welcomed neither.

The hope was impossible. She knew that. The heat was all but irresistible. And why not? she thought suddenly. Why not let herself have this one time, this one memory? Surely being with Jack one time wouldn’t make the hurt that much worse later, when he was gone.

He raised one hand and deliberately cupped her breast, those magical eyes fixed on hers. Her breath caught and her eyes closed and she knew she was losing her mind. Giving herself to Jack would only make the pain worse. Much worse.

But maybe it would be worth it. Maybe…

When his mouth caught hers again, she wasn’t ready. How could she have been ready for the need in him, the hunger? It amazed her, swept her under, taking her to a dark, private place where sensation ruled and no hope seemed truly impossible. He wrapped himself around her—his arms, his scent, his hunger—and when he pulled her down with him, she went.

When she finally broke the kiss, they were tangled together on the floor. He’d kept most of his weight off of her, but her ribs ached dully. The pain was an insufficient distraction when Jack’s hand was beneath her sweater, hot and demanding on her breast.

“Don’t leave, Annie,” he murmured against her neck.

“Jack,” she gasped. “Jack, I’m not the one who will leave. You will. In a few weeks you’ll be off again, building something on the other side of the world.”

“So come with me.” He lifted his head. His eyes were bright with impulse and delight. “Why not? The timing is perfect, Annie. You’re at loose ends right now. You want to feel safe, and I want to make you safe. Why not come with me on my next job?”

“Why not?” The question was so foolish that her mind went blank for a moment. “Why not? Are you crazy? Do you really think I’m going to travel halfway around the world with no ring on my finger, no promises, nothing but a casual ‘why not?”’

“All right.” He sat up suddenly. He was grinning. “All right, that’s fair. We’ll get married first.”

Chapter 3

She had crumbled, Annie thought, giving the porch swing another desultory push. As humiliating as it might be, that was the truth. One hint that Jack needed her—one more long, passionate kiss—and all her good sense had been burned away. She had agreed to fly to Las Vegas with him that same night.

Another creak joined the one from the porch swing as the front door opened, spilling light across the darkness for a moment. The door closed again, renewing the darkness.

“You hiding out here, or holding a one-woman pity party?” Her next-oldest brother’s voice was deep, but not the bass rumble of Ben’s; Charlie was lighter than their oldest brother in every way.

“Neither one. I’m brooding over my sins.”

“Ben wants to know if you’ve got your jacket on. The wind’s starting to pick up again.”

She sighed. Ben might not be speaking to her, but he was still looking out for her in his own overbearing way. “Yes, I’m wearing a jacket. Have you come out here to yell at me some more?”

“Maybe.” He moved toward her, a lean, rangy shape in the darkness. “Scoot over.”