Mastering Her Fear (Miami Masters 3) - Page 3

Then Jackson raised his head and pinned her in place with those dark blue eyes. The urge to run and throw herself at him threatened Julie’s composure, forcing her to fist her hands until her nails gouged her palms. The sharp pain kept her grounded in place. She could no longer expect him to catch her and hold her tight.

“Hello, Jackson.”

JACKSON HAD to blink twice to make sure he was seeing correctly. There was no way Julie Martin was standing just a few feet away, looking as young and innocent as she had when she’d been all of twelve. But there was no mistaking those wide purple eyes or the cloud of midnight hair that was longer than the short cut she’d been sporting the night he’d walked away from her without looking back. Or the familiar clutch of his heart. Remembering that night, and why he’d severed ties with her was enough to throttle back the instant surge in his libido, the same response he’d experienced when he first recognized the little girl next door as a grown, desirable woman, the one he’d worked so hard to forget these past years. Resentment welled up, rose to the surface and obliterated the instant warmth surrounding his chest, erasing the flash of disappointment when she didn’t hurtle herself at him and wrap those long limbs around him in a bear hug greeting.

“What the hell are you doing here, Julie?” he demanded gruffly.

Her face paled, those slim shoulders drooping as she took a step back. Remorse for his harsh greeting propelled Jackson forward. Regardless of why he’d stayed away from her, he couldn’t stand to hurt her. “Sorry, you took me by surprise. I didn’t know you’d be in the state, let alone down this way.”

She glanced away in discomfort. “I… I’m sorry. I should’ve called, but it’s been so long…”

And the last time she tried to get hold of him, he’d ignored her call, just as he’d done with her texts and e-mails until she’d quit trying. “Six years, but you haven’t changed.” Which was a lie. There were circles under her eyes, and a look in the beautiful dark depths that pulled at the protective urges he’d thought had subsided over the years. And she was thinner than he’d ever seen her.

“You always did know what to say. Who’s this?” Reaching out a hand, she petted the soft head of the shaking puppy.

“The runt of a new litter. I was on my way to the house to feed her with a syringe since her siblings have been too greedy to share.” He hesitated, but saw no way around not inviting her into his home. “Follow me and you can tell me what brings you here.” And what put that haunted look in your eyes.

No, he didn’t want to know. It had taken him too long to quit thinking about her every day, to stop worrying and dreaming about what could have been. To stop missing her. He’d bet she had an ulterior, self-centered motive for popping in on him after all this time—at least, the woman he’d walked away from so long ago would have.

Holding the puppy close to his chest in the hopes his heartbeat would ease the poor thing’s shaking, Jackson pulled open the back door to his clinic then held it open for Julie. “Come on in and go to the right.”

“Thanks. You have quite a place out here.” Entering a small treatment room, she sank onto the one chair with a sigh, as if the fatigue etched on her face went bone deep.

“It keeps me busy.” Using one hand, he opened a new plastic syringe, set it on the exam table then grabbed a can of baby formula off a shelf. “What about you?” he asked, filling the syringe. “Are you here working?” Leaning against the table, he coaxed the puppy to open her mouth. Pushing on the syringe, he sent a squirt of milk down the pup’s throat while trying to ignore the hungry way Julie’s eyes were devouring him. Just like the old Julie, the one he’d gone to New York to see if the spark of lust he’d felt when she’d been twenty was still there and worth risking an invitation into his kinky preferences. He could still recall, way too easily, the instant flare of heat when he spotted her in that fancy restaurant, and how fast it had cooled.

Julie averted her face before answering, another small sign something wasn’t right. “No, I’m on a… hiatus from work.” She turned those incredible eyes back toward him, and this time there was such pain in their dark depths, his dominant nature urged him to demand an explanation. Luckily for him, his control was stronger. “I’ve wanted to come home for a while now. It’s been too long.”

The catch in her soft voice followed by the growl he heard rumbling from her stomach kept Jackson from prodding her on her way. What could it hurt to invite her upstairs for dinner before she left? There were enough leftovers to feed them both. Tossing the now empty syringe into the sink, he glanced down at the sleeping puppy. “If you have time to wait while I get her settled in a crate, and are good with leftover spaghetti, you’re welcome to stay and eat before you go.”

“I have time. Thank you,” she accepted without hesitation.

He spun away from the relief crossing her face and the questions that kept begging for answers. “Let’s go upstairs then.”

JULIE CONCENTRATED on the view of Jackson’s butt showcased in tight jeans shifting in front of her instead of the nervous pounding of her heart as she followed him up a wood planked staircase. She hadn’t expected a huge welcoming smile after all this time, but she didn’t know how to act or what to make of this polite but indifferent man who had replaced the boy next door who’d always looked after her. “Oh.” Stopping short when he led her into a wide open great room, she gazed around the masculine space with appreciation for the homey, welcoming feel of worn, overstuffed furniture and a row of potted plants lined up in front of a bank of wide windows. White marble countertops topped the blue/grey kitchen cabinets, the bright pattern of blue, white and grey backsplash tiles adding a splash of color to the white shiplap walls. “This is so you.” She turned a beaming smile up to him and for the first time in the last thirty minutes, his sun-browned face creased in a grin and revealed his dimples.

“Glad you think so. Sit down a minute while I take care of her.” He nodded toward the high stools at the counter.

She stood a moment, watching him settle the sleepy, content puppy in a small crate then set it on a chair. Julie envied the way Jackson stroked over the small brown head and the softness of his gaze before he turned toward her and his jaw went taut. It couldn’t be more obvious he didn’t want her here. A pang of regret tightened her abdomen. Yet another mistake she had to answer for.

“What can I do to help?” she offered.

“Nothing. This’ll just take a few minutes. Tell me what exotic places your agent has sent you to.” He pulled a glass dish from the refrigerator and slid it into the microwave.

Hopping onto a stool at the kitchen counter, she leaned on her elbows and watched him pad over to the refrigerator. The charcoal tee shirt with his rescue’s insignia of a dog stitched in bright red on the breast pocket fit with snug tightness around his bulging shoulders and biceps. His height and size would intimidate most people, but she’d never felt anything but comforted in his presence. Until the end of that last dinner they’d shared on her turf. The coldness in his eyes when the paparazzi had descended on them the second they stepped outside had rivaled the frigid, December temperature. Which had rendered the first carnal kiss he’d given her as a woman as startling as her quick response.

“I did a swimsuit layout on the Cook Islands about four years ago. That was fun.” Too late, she realized her mistake when he raised one, dark brown brow in question.

“Nowhere else since then? Maybe you need a new agent.” His direct gaze held curiosity and a hint of suspicion, reminding Julie of how well he knew her.

She didn’t mention she’d fired her agent right after the murders while she’d still been under police protection in Montana. Six days she’d spent in a safe house until they’d caught him. Thankfully, once Evan Daniels heard he’d left an eyewitness alive, he confessed and spared her the trauma of testifying at his trial. It was bad enough she still relived that night in her nightmares; to have to relay the details of those hours to a courtroom of strangers with him starin

g at her would have been sheer torture.

“I… I’m not modeling any more, Jackson. I… retired.” That sounded better than ‘quit and ran away’ like the coward she was.

That explained a lot, but not everything. Jackson resorted to sarcasm to chase away his growing curiosity. “Just turned thirty-one and you can’t compete with twenty-somethings? Tough career choice.”

“Yes, well, we all make mistakes. That smells good.” His ridicule hurt, but not enough to set aside appreciation for the first sign of her appetite returning after so long.

“Julie… sorry, I need to get this,” Jackson said instead of apologizing when his emergency line pealed. Snatching his cell off the clip at his waist, he listened for a moment before saying, “I can be there in about twenty minutes. Right.” Flipping the phone closed, he returned it to his belt then grabbed hot pads to lift the casserole dish from the microwave. “I’ve got to run on an emergency and I’ll be gone a while.” Torn between wanting her gone and his growing desire for answers, he hesitated a moment before caving to the latter against his better judgement. “I’ll be about two hours. Feel free to stick around if you want.”

Jackson didn’t wait for her answer, just snatched his keys off the hook by the door leading to the outside staircase and left without looking back. Just like last time. When he found himself hoping she’d still be there when he returned, irritation forced his hands into fists and he welcomed the painful, sharp gouge of the keys against his palm. Slamming into his truck, he put it in gear and sped down the drive, trying to shift his mind onto the ailing horse waiting for his help and away from his surprise guest.

Staying away from Julie hadn’t been easy. He’d lost count of how many times his best friend, Miles Cavenaugh, had caught him losing focus on a scene or with a conversation and questioned Jackson about it. Miles knew how he’d befriended Julie when they were young and neighbors, before his teen years went to hell after his parents’ arrest. He’d gone off the deep end after the surprise raid on his home revealed the truth about his mother and father’s little side business, and the death of a ten-year-old it had inadvertently contributed to. Did they think the drugs they sold to their dealer would only end up in the hands of adults? Whenever he thought back upon all the years of hearing them preach ‘just say no’ to drugs, he still wanted to rail at their hypocrisy.

If it hadn’t been for his mother’s relatives—mainly his grandmother and aunt—stepping in when he retaliated against those in their small town who scorned him for the sins of his parents, he knew he would have ended up in prison himself. After stealing cars and booze led to breaking and entering in an electronics store and theft, and landed him in juvenile court for the third time, his choices were simple: juvenile detention until he turned twenty-one or three months in a rigid summer camp for juvenile delinquents. That had been a no-brainer and the bonds he’d forged with six other guys that grueling summer helped keep him grounded when he returned to live with his grandmother. Them, and maintaining his protective watch over Julie, whose parents continued to exploit their only child for their own selfish interests and purposes.

Whenever the death of his father just two years after being sentenced to twenty years in prison got Jackson down, all he had to do was think of his friends’ childhoods and the family traumas they also suffered and struggled to cope with, and he knew he wasn’t alone. Miles had it the worst, yet he never faulted in his support or friendship, none of them did. Julie hadn’t either, not until she’d gone to the big city and changed into someone he didn’t want to know. The woman he’d left in his home just now seemed more like the young girl he remembered, a little lost and in need of a friend, which yanked at the over protective instincts he’d always harbored for the innocent kid next door. The haunted look in her eyes worried him, but he had to remember she wasn’t a kid anymore, and was a far cry from the innocent twenty-year-old he’d first felt a stirring of lust for.

Jackson turned into the private horse farm he’d received an emergency call from, shoving aside the thought of who waited back on his property as well as the desire to dig into the reasons for Julie’s unexpected pop back into his life. Grabbing his bag, he slid out of the truck, vowing it didn’t matter why she’d come to him or what had happened to bring about her early retirement from modeling. It had taken too long to get over losing her and he refused to go down that road again. It could only lead to more heartache and he’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime. He had his work, his friends and now their own private yacht decked out with the BDSM accoutrements they all enjoyed when indulging in their kinky preferences. What more could he want?

Five hours later, Jackson returned home with a heavy heart. He hated losing patients, and putting down a young, beautiful mare left him torn up. The water levels in the bogs and marshes were all up due to the rainy weather of late, and the poor horse couldn’t be pulled out safely when she got herself mired down in the muddy banks of one. The rescue team from the SPCA and fire department tried every trick they knew before the distraught owners asked him to end her suffering.

To add to his piss-poor mood, the longer he stayed gone, the more likely it was Julie would have already left by the time he returned. That likelihood added to his sour disposition even though he knew it would be easier all around if she were gone. The last thing he needed with his busy schedule was to entertain an uninvited, unwelcome guest for long.

Jackson craved a stiff drink, some alone time and sleep, but when he drove up to his house and his pulse jumped with pleasure at seeing Julie’s car still parked out front, he frowned in irritation. The kennels were dark and quiet, but the porch light lit up the front of the two-story, one-hundred-year-old home and as he climbed the stairs, he noticed the brightness waiting for him on the second floor of private living space. Entering the great room, a quick glance confirmed every light was lit before his gaze zeroed in on Julie curled up on the sofa, sound asleep. The exhaustion he noted on her face earlier was even more pronounced now, her face even paler and the dark circles under her eyes now resembled bruises.

Too tired to deal with her, or his mixed emotions regarding her sudden reappearance in his life, Jackson grabbed the knitted throw off the back of the couch and draped it over her. Pouring himself that much-needed drink, he sipped it while feeding the puppy again then shut off all the lights before dragging himself off to bed. Dealing with his guest would have to wait until tomorrow as he didn’t have the energy, or the heart, to shove her on her way tonight.

CHAPTER 2

F or the first time in years, Julie roused to the comforting warmth of brightness instead of the penetrating cold of darkness. Stretching beneath a soft throw, she basked in the heat splashing across her face and upper body from the bank of windows open to the morning sunshine. She hadn’t known what to do last night when Jackson hadn’t returned by the time night had fallen. A bit antsy, she’d flipped on the lights and taken the puppy out and played with her. The last thing she remembered was deciding to rest her eyes for a few moments. She’d never dreamed she could fall asleep in a strange place with such ease, especially after Jackson’s rather cool welcome.

Rising, she folded the throw and draped it back over the top of the couch then headed toward the full coffeepot she spotted in the kitchen. A quick search proved her reluctant host as well as the puppy were nowhere around and after seeing it was past 10:00 am already, she knew why. She remembered reading the clinic’s office hours started at 8:00 am and she imagined animals needed to be fed and watered before then.

Carrying a full coffee cup into the hall bath, Julie found what she needed to wash up then changed into a clean blouse. Before it grew dark last night, she’d brought up her one bag, hoping Jackson would extend an invitation to at least stay the night. Skipping downstairs now, she felt more optimistic about staying than she had yesterday, but not confident enough to leave it up to Jackson. She needed him, his friendship, his support and shoulder to lean on—as long as he never learned the whole truth

about what had happened in that small Montana town, and the event that led to her friends’ murders.

The door to the small exam room where he’d fed the puppy last night was closed, but she could hear his deep voice behind it. The other exam room across the hall was also shut, but a small excited bark came through the door; a patient waiting to be seen to next, she supposed. Julie pivoted, intending to step outside, but a bell rang from out front and a small child’s crying drew her in that direction first. Opening the door at the end of the hall, she took in the reception area and the empty seat behind the counter. Since there appeared to be no one around to greet the distraught mother and toddler who clutched her hand, she took the initiative.

“Can I help you?”

“I hope so. Dr. Davenport kept our dog overnight for observation after setting his broken leg, and Cody here won’t rest until we bring him back home. I was hoping we could pick him up a little early. My name’s Sharon Anderson, and it’s a beagle named Bobo.”

Julie took the chair behind a computer, thankful it had already been booted up and didn’t need a password. A few clicks on schedules and she found the file for Bobo. “He made notes here. Bobo did fine last night but, of course, he’ll need to sign off on his release. Would you like to have a seat? He’s with a patient.”

“Oh, yes, thank you. I’m so glad the temp agency got around to sending someone to help him out. He’s been so frazzled and overworked since Mary went on maternity leave.”

Tags: B.J. Wane Miami Masters Erotic
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