"Damn it, Grace, you don't know me at all. I'm absolutely nothing like your rich, brilliant husband. I'm just a good old boy, without a college degree, who has a shady family history. All my edges are rough. I'm a crude, ornery ex-soldier who knows a hell of a lot more about danger and death than I do about living and loving."
He sounded as if he was warning her off, but her heart recognized his admission for what it was-a plea for her to want him despite all the reasons she shouldn't.
"I loved Dean Beaumont and thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. I know I'll never find another man like him." She sensed Jed's discomfort and noticed him wince at the mention of her husband. "I'm not saying I've fallen in love with you…" She smiled. "In lust maybe." He reacted with a halfway smile. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't expect you to be like Dean. I don't want you to be a replacement for Dean. I want you, Jed. I want you just the way you are."
He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms so fast he took her breath away. With his cheek pressed firmly against hers, he held her close and whispered hoarsely, "No past, no future. Just the here and now."
"Yes, just the here and now." She stood on tiptoe so that their mouths were perfectly aligned. She understood that for this moment in time, they had no yesterdays and no tomorrows. They were simply two people wanting and needing each other.
He kissed her. A million butterflies danced wildly in her stomach. He deepened the kiss. Skyrockets burst inside her head. His big hands cupped and lifted her buttocks, then yanked her up against him so that she could feel his arousal. Her nipples peaked; her femininity moistened. A maddening ache throbbed between her legs.
He kissed her again and again and again. Her mouth, her face, her neck. She ran her hands over his hard pectoral muscles, loving the feel of him. He tore off her robe and tossed it aside, then ripped the buttons from her silk pajama top as he jerked it off her. She unzipped his jeans, which he shrugged off and onto the floor, then she helped him remove her pajama bottoms. And all the while they kept kissing and touching. When they were both naked, Jed swung her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. He flung her on the rumpled bedspread, then came down over her. They kissed wildly, passionately, as they tossed about on the bed. His lips were everywhere, tasting her skin from mouth to toes. Her hands grasped and plucked and explored. He pinched her nipples, then laved them with his tongue. While he tested her readiness, she circled his sex with her fingers and stroked him.
"I want you inside me," she told him. "I want you now."
He eased off her and got up. She reached for him.
"I'll be right back," he assured her. "The pack of condoms is in my shave kit." The pack of condoms Dom Shea picked up for him earlier today.
While he disappeared into the bathroom, she scooted the bedspread, blanket and sheet to the foot of the bed, then rested her head on one of the two huge goose down pillows. She stretched like a cat basking in the sun. Every fiber of her being was ready and waiting… and wanting. Jed had awakened her sleeping sensuality, making her feel brazen and sexy. And for one crazy moment, she wished Jed would make love to her without protection. Just for that one moment she wanted something she thought she'd never want again-to get pregnant. Pregnant with Jed's baby.
"Are you out of your mind calling me at this ungodly hour?" Oliver Neville yelled into the telephone.
"Too bad I woke you," he said. "But I was awakened by several phone calls myself. It seems that there was a news bulletin on our local Sheffield Media, Inc. owned station about a body being dumped in front of Belle Foret tonight. I've had four phone calls from Sheffield Media employees, all worried about Grace."
"You shouldn't have your phone number listed in the book," Oliver said.
"You promised me that nothing would happen to Grace. You swore to me that she'd be safe."
"No one has harmed a hair on Ms. Beaumont's head, have they?"
"Not yet, but-"
"Then stop worrying. And stop calling me."
"Swear to me that Fortier isn't planning to hurt Grace. If he hurts her, I'll-"
"You'll do what? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not if you want to stay out of trouble."
"I should never have agreed to help you four years ago, when Fortier sent you to make me an offer. You swore to me then that Grace wouldn't be hurt, that Fortier wanted to kill only Dean and Byram."
"We had no idea Ms. Beaumont was in the car that night. Even you didn't know."
"Tell Fortier that if he hurts Grace, I'll go to the police and confess everything. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, I hear you, you fool. Talk like that will get you killed. Is Grace Beaumont's life worth more to you than your own?"
He gasped. "Oh, God! Oh, God! He does plan to kill Grace, doesn't he?"
"Calm down. Booth will do whatever he has to do to stop Ms. Beaumont. If you can't persuade her to let matters drop, then I can't be held responsible for what Booth does."
"If I'd known how things would turn out, I'd never have helped you," he mumbled. "She wasn't supposed to get hurt. I thought she'd turn to me for comfort, but she didn't."
"Well, from what I hear, she's found all the comfort she needs from her bodyguard," Oliver said.
"That's a damn lie! Grace would never stoop that low. The man is an uncouth lout."
"Maybe her taste in men has changed."
"Shut your damn mouth."
"Pull yourself together," Oliver advised. "If you keep acting like this, yours will be the next body dumped on Grace Beaumont's doorstep."
Chapter 16
Grace lay in bed, shamelessly naked, waiting eagerly for Jed. The steady, uninterrupted rhythm of her daily existence had blown up in her face when she'd received the letter from Jaron Vaden. Now, the man was dead. Brutally murdered and deposited at her front gate as a warning. Her life was out of control and she was reeling from the aftershocks. For four years she had clung to the memory of her husband, loving him, grieving for him, needing him every day. She had been empty inside for such a long time, the loss of her family leaving her adrift, emotionally unconnected to anything other than anguish. She had clung to Sheffield Media, Inc. as if it were her only lifeline. Indeed, it had been her one reason for living.
But everything had changed when Jed Tyree walked off the plane from Atlanta a few days ago. Had it really been less than week since his arrival? Odd that it seemed she'd known him for years. Laverna would say the feeling came from the fact that Grace and Jed had known each other in another life and were simply reconnecting in this one. Although a devout Christian all her life, Laverna dabbled in the supernatural, a trait not uncommon for many Louisiana natives whose roots went generations deep in bayou soil. Grace wasn't a believer in reincarnation, yet she couldn't truthfully say she was a disbeliever. She did know one thing for sure-Jed Tyree was no stranger to her heart.
When Jed emerged from the bathroom, his fist closed tightly over a couple of square packets, Grace suddenly felt shy, but she forced herself not to reach for the sheet to cover herself.
"Lady, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he told her as he stopped in the middle of the bedroom and stared at her.
"You look pretty darn good yourself."
Oh, yes, pretty dam good, indeed. Drop-dead gorgeous might better describe the naked man standing before her. Tall, muscular, not an ounce of fat on his hard, lean torso. The type of man a woman dreamed of having for a lover.