Читать книгу Falcon's Lair - Sara Orwig - Страница 7

Ben stood and walked to the window, gazing at the snow tumbling outside, his hands jammed into his pockets. She waited, yet with every second of silence, her dread increased.

When he turned around, his dark eyes sparked with anger that made something inside her want to throw her hands up and tell him to stop. Instead she waited quietly.

“When you tried to get out of bed, you said you had to find Ben Falcon. You were on your way to see me.”

She frowned, staring at him. “You said we don’t know each other.”

“No, we don’t, but I can make a guess why you were driving to meet me. I think my father sent you. He’s hired you to get me to go home to work for him. He’s done this before.”

“Who is your father?”

“Weston Falcon. A few years ago he was a U.S. senator. He lives in Dallas and is CEO of Falcon Enterprises, which is primarily oil and cattle.”

It sounded as though Ben was discussing a friend of his, yet Jennifer could hear the tight thread of anger in his voice. Feeling frustrated, she shook her head. “That means nothing to me. I don’t remember.”

Ben looked out the window again. “After you were admitted, I called him and got an answering machine. I left a message that you’re in the hospital here. I called one of his employees and left the same message with him, so by tomorrow we should hear from my father. As soon as the storm abates, he’ll send someone to pick you up.”

Ben’s broad shoulders were silhouetted against the snowy window and he looked solid and reassuring, yet she guessed there was a great deal he was leaving unsaid. When he turned around to look into her eyes, she became aware of his maleness, and she wondered about his effect on her. Was it because of her helplessness and his comfort? Or was it a sheer physical magnetism? He didn’t seem happy with her, yet he had been kind to her, so the anger had to be bound up with his father.

“When daylight comes, I’m going home. You can wait here if you want— I’ll take care of the bill. I know my father will send someone for you.”

Panic gripped her and she knew it was unreasonable, but it was frightening to not be able to remember anything and to not know anyone.

He moved closer to the bed and looked down at her, touching her knuckles lightly with his fingertips. “Or if you’d feel better about it, I’ll take you home with me until someone comes to get you.”

She closed her eyes and caught his hand in hers. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling a surge of relief.

Ben experienced tiny sparks from her clasp. He looked at the top of her head, her shining hair. She seemed so vulnerable that sympathy rose inside him for her, yet he knew if she worked for Weston, she was tough and intelligent. He should walk out tonight, tell her goodbye and save himself some trouble. But he couldn’t do it.

He went to sit down and she watched him, meeting his steady gaze. “I know I should stay here, but I feel more secure with you.”

A strange humorless smile flitted across his face. He settled back on the chair. “You won’t when your memory returns.”

“You don’t get along with your father.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t. Weston is ruthless, determined and unrelenting. He’s been incredibly successful in business, and he did it on his own. He came from a poor farm background. My grandmother was a Comanche, my grandfather had a tiny farm that finally failed. Weston has built an empire and he was determined that he would raise his sons to run parts of it exactly the way he had, only, neither of his sons were carbon copies of him.”

“So, you have a brother?”

“He’s deceased now. Geoff was younger. My mother was as strong-willed as Weston, fighting him to her last breath. When I was ten, she died in a car wreck. Weston said I inherited all her rebellion and wildness. My brother tried to be what Weston wanted, and failed. I fought him. He’s never given up trying to get me back— using coercion, bribes, beautiful women— ” He broke off when she frowned at the last.

“He couldn’t have sent me as an enticement!” The words were out before she thought, and she blushed.

One dark brow arched and curiosity flared in his dark eyes. “Why not?”

Her cheeks burned, and she waved her hand, looking down at herself. “I guess I know that instinctively. I looked in a mirror here. I’m not the type of woman to be a— a physical inducement. I have freckles.”

“You also have a body and you have this— ” he said softly, leaning forward to stretch out a long arm and wind a lock of silky auburn hair around his fingers. She felt the gentle tug on her scalp as she looked into his dark eyes. He was leaning over the bed, only inches from her now. Her awareness of him intensified, startling her because she was having reactions that were strong. She decided it was because of her circumstances.

“I’m not fishing for compliments,” she said, avoiding his steady gaze and feeling embarrassed by the conversation, yet certain he was wrong, “but I don’t have the kind of body you’re talking about. Thank you for your compliments though. And look— ” She waved pale slender fingers at him.

He arched his brow again at her, catching her hand and glancing down at her small hand in his large, callused palm.

“Even if you ignore the cuts from the wreck, this doesn’t look like the hand of a woman who would be a beautiful enticement,” she said, too aware of the solid warmth of his hand holding hers. “Whatever work I do, I use my hands enough to prevent long, red nails. No, if you’re right, he must have sent me to use my wits to talk you into coming home.”

“That would be a first where a female is concerned,” Ben replied dryly, leaning back against the chair, but still holding her hand, his thumb running idly across her knuckles. She wondered if he noticed what he was doing; she was too conscious of it. “And the most dangerous to me,” he added softly with an arch of his eyebrow.

“I’m not a threat to you. I might not remember anything, but I know what my instinctive reactions are.”

Suddenly his eyes twinkled as he gazed at her. “Stop arguing, Jennifer. I believe you.”

“I’m glad you do.” She studied him, wondering what he was like, what would make him laugh. “When did you leave Texas?”

“When I was twenty-six, eight years ago. The first time I left was when I was seventeen and ran away from home. After a couple of rebellious years, I decided to cooperate with him. I got a degree in petroleum engineering and went to work for him. Unfortunately, he wanted to make every major decision.”

“You couldn’t work any satisfactory agreement out between you?” she asked. Ben continued to rub his thumb across her knuckles, careful to avoid the cuts and bruises.

He shook his head, trying to bank the anger he felt as he remembered the struggle with Weston. “No, we couldn’t. It was his way or no way.”

“Maybe he was right. He was older and more successful.”

Ben looked into her clear green eyes that appeared guileless and wondered how she had become entangled with Weston. She seemed intelligent and quietly self-possessed, not the type of woman he associated with his father. “My father was demanding and brutal when I was growing up. Geoff always conformed to save himself beatings, but he couldn’t achieve the excellence my father demanded, so he paid a price emotionally.

“After I grew up a little, I finally decided that maybe I had been too bullheaded, that I should try Weston’s way. When I got into the business, I found out things I had only suspected. My father places success first. He’s not above hurting others, lying, cheating or anything he can do as long as it’s within the law or he knows he won’t get caught.

“It finally came to a takeover where he was going to crush good people to get a small company that would be a toy to him, something he’d discard as soon as he acquired it. I killed the deal and packed and left. I’m cut out of the will, and with Geoff gone, the fair-haired boy is Jordan Falcon, an older cousin who works for Weston.” Ben shifted restlessly. “My cousin tries to be what Weston wants. They can have it all.”

He became silent when a tall, white-uniformed nurse came to take Jennifer’s blood pressure. As soon as the nurse left, Jennifer turned to him. “When did you move here?”

“I bought the ranch eight years ago. For the first four years Weston sent people to force me to come back. But the past few years, I haven’t been bothered by him and I figured he had finally given up on me.”

“Maybe you’re wrong about me,” she said quietly.

Studying her, Ben wished he were wrong, wished that she was trying to find him for an entirely different reason— one that had no connection to his father. He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Jennifer.”

“I might be related to someone who works for you and looking for him or her.”

“No women work for me.”

“I’ve talked too much. You’re probably exhausted after working today in this storm. You don’t have to stay awake.”

“I’m all right and I’m glad to talk,” he said, releasing her hand.

“I wish I could remember something. Do you think my purse was destroyed?”

He shrugged. “I’ll go tomorrow and look for it, but it’s probably blown to bits.”

She shivered. “Thank heaven you found me.”

“You would have probably survived on your own. You were struggling to get away from the car when I arrived.”

She ran her hand across her head.

“Head hurt?”

“Yes, and I hope breakfast is at dawn because I could eat this bed, I’m so hungry.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” As he started to rise, she caught his hand.

“Sit down! It’s the dead of night and I don’t want you to go hunting down a candy machine— ”

“I could use some food myself. He glanced at his watch. “There are all-night diners open around here— what’s your choice?”

“Please don’t go out in the storm for me.”

“If you don’t give me your choice, you’ll have to take potluck,” he said, aware she was still holding his wrist. She seemed to realize she was clinging to him and moved her hand to the bed.

“Now I feel terrible that you’re going out in the storm.”

“You’ll be easier to feed than all those steers I have to take care of tomorrow.” Her quick smile made him draw his breath. The dimple appeared in her cheek and he longed to really make her laugh.

“If you insist— ” she began, big green eyes focused on him, “will you do one more thing before you go? Can you help me up? I want to get to the bathroom— ” She was already pushing the covers away and swinging her long, shapely legs over the side of the bed. “I don’t have any slippers and I have on this dreadful hospital gown.”

“Come here,” he said, lifting her into his arms. She wrapped her arm around his neck, her coppery hair spilling onto his shoulder. He was aware of the warmth of her body through the thin hospital gown and he was glad it was a short distance across the room because his body was reacting to her nearness. He stepped into the bathroom to set her on her feet, his hand brushing lightly across the bare backs of her thighs as he released her. She supported herself with a handrail, holding her injured ankle up. “Holler when you want my help,” he said, stepping out and closing the door.

Feeling hot, too aware of each contact with her, he went into the hall and glanced up and down, his stomach growling in reminder that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Spotting the lighted nurses’ station, he walked down the hall and stopped in front of the desk. A nurse glanced up and then smiled.

“We’re starving. Is there anything open near the hospital where I can get hamburgers?”

“Sure, across the street,” she said, smoothing her blond hair.

“Is there anyplace I can get a magazine now? She asked for one.”

“Here,” she said, pulling magazines from beneath the counter. “And I’ll check her in just a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a broad smile, and she smiled in return.

He stepped back into Jennifer’s room as she opened the bathroom door and started to hop out. He tossed the magazines and they landed at the foot of the bed. “I brought you some reading so you would stay awake. And none of that hopping around,” he said, picking her up easily. He tried to focus on the bed to avoid looking at her, but he couldn’t resist turning his head to gaze into her wide green eyes that were studying him with open curiosity.

“I don’t know how you could have had such a dreadful time with your father— you’re so cooperative. And if he’s not, I don’t know how I can work for him.”

“Your memory will return and you’ll get your answers,” Ben said gruffly, barely aware of what he was saying, more aware of the soft womanly feel of her in his arms, her red lips only inches away, the thin hospital gown that was almost nothing. As he studied her, she blinked, her expression becoming solemn, her lips parting, and he wondered if she were having half the reaction that he was.

He bent down to place her on the bed, and when she lay back against the pillow, he wanted to follow her down, to feel her softness under the length of him, to pull away the flimsy hospital gown. He remembered the pink lace teddy, the triangle of auburn curls, and his body hardened in response. He gazed into green depths that seemed to tug on his senses with silent promises. With an effort he straightened up, looking down at her, unable to turn away because there was a chemistry generating between them that held him like a direct contact with an electric current.

“Ben,” she said in the barest whisper, and his heart thudded against his ribs. He sat down on the bed beside her, his hip against hers while he leaned forward. He braced both hands on either side of her, bending close as she watched him, a slumberous invitation in her eyes until her dark lashes lowered.

He brushed his mouth over hers so lightly, the softness of her lips making him shudder. He wanted to tighten his arms around her, slide on top of her and kiss her passionately. Why was he having this reaction? Particularly with this woman who by tomorrow would be at cross-purposes with him? And then the thought was gone as her lips parted beneath his and he thrust his tongue over her full underlip, invading the velvety warmth of her mouth.

Jennifer moaned softly as he kissed her, his tongue going deep, touching the insides of her mouth and playing over her tongue. Her heart pounded violently while she returned his kiss, her tongue sliding into his mouth as she responded with an abandon that surprised her. An uncontrollable heat centered low in her body, spreading and making nerves raw, causing her to be conscious of the proximity of his strong male body.

He raised his head and she opened her eyes, looking into unfathomable darkness as he gazed solemnly down at her. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes and with a shock, she realized he looked angry.

“You’re thinking about my working for your father.”

“It’s there between us,” he answered, standing.

“Suppose you’re wrong? Or suppose when I hear your side, I quit?”

Suddenly his features softened. “I’m blaming you for things that happened in the past,” he said lightly, yet a muscle worked in his jaw. “I’ll be back soon.”

She watched him stride out of the room and lay back on the bed, wondering at the turn in her life.

Thirty minutes later Ben pushed open the door, and she dropped a magazine. Her heart jumped, her pulse accelerating because he strode across to the bed bringing with him a sense of strength and vitality that she needed. Snow was melting on his wide hat brim and across his broad shoulders, leaving sparkling drops of water in their place. Dropping sacks with mouth-watering smells of mustard and onions, he flung his coat and hat on a straight chair. Cold air swirled around him as he moved closer to help her get settled to eat.

He placed more packages on the bed. “I stopped at the hospital vending machine and bought you a comb, toothbrush, a few things. We’re leaving in the morning before the stores open or I’d get you some other things.”

“Thank you,” she said, picking up the package with the comb and tearing it open to place it on the shelf beside the bed.

In minutes they were enjoying a feast of hamburgers and onion rings along with cans of cold cola. She closed her eyes as she chewed. “This tastes wonderful! Thank you.”

“There are two burgers apiece.”

She laughed, and Ben’s heart thudded because the sound was as merry as the call of a meadowlark and her sparkling green eyes gave her a beauty that was breathtaking.

“I should have brought you three burgers and really made you laugh!”

“I can’t possibly eat two of these giant burgers!”

He grinned at her and shrugged. “You said you were hungry. I’m hungry and I’ll eat two.”

“Yours goes to muscle. Mine would go to fat.”

“There isn’t an ounce of fat on your body,” he drawled and watched her cheeks turn pink as she gazed at him. He shrugged. “I’d be abnormal if I hadn’t noticed.” He glanced through the window. “I heard the weather report while I was out. We’re in for more snow, and parts of the state are losing power from frozen lines that are down.”

“You need to be home.”

“There isn’t anything I can do tonight and in the morning, I’ll be there. A chopper can get in and out.”

She sighed as she wiped her fingers and mouth and folded up the paper the hamburger had been wrapped in. “What a feast! Thank you, Ben.”

He shrugged, starting on a second burger. “I was starving, too.”

“Tell me more about your life.” She sat up in bed and touched the back of his hand where a faint white line crossed from his knuckle to his wrist. “How did you get hurt?”

“Canoeing long ago when I worked one summer on a ranch in Colorado. Turned over in white water and gashed my hand on a rock. I went to Texas University, was on the track team,” he added between bites.

“You have a scar on your jaw.”

He looked amused as he touched the faint line across the lower part of his jaw. “Horse kicked me— if it had been a little higher, I would have lost an ear. I ride in rodeos occasionally.”

“You weren’t raised on a farm— why did you go into cattle and ranching?”

“Dad owns a ranch in West Texas and I used to spend summers there, and that was the best time of my life. I like engineering and I’ve worked on rigs and it’s challenging, but when I left home, I wanted as far from the oil business as I could get. There’s a satisfaction in living like I do. It’s cussed mean at times like this,” he said, glancing out the window where snowflakes still swirled and struck the glass to slide in a frozen heap at the bottom of the pane.

“This weather is bad for you and I’ve been so much trouble, but I feel safe in here, like I’m in a cocoon. I almost wish tomorrow wouldn’t come. I feel shut away right now without any problems or past, but then there’s no future, either.”

“You’ll be all right, Jennifer,” he said quietly and settled back in the chair, stretching out his long legs. “With daylight your memory should return.”

She gazed into his dark eyes and felt a troubling uncertainty, yet his presence and the conviction in his voice were reassuring. Feeling as if she could talk to him all night, she leaned back against the pillow. “You’re not married?”

“No,” he answered, shaking his head, his gaze going beyond her. “Twice in my life I’ve been interested in a woman— one time it was on the verge of becoming serious, only I discovered she had been selected by my father.”

“Why would a woman do that?”

He gave her a cynical look. “I’m healthy, sound in mind and body. Marry me with Weston’s blessings and someday Falcon Enterprises would be mine and my wife’s. Some women are willing to give that a try.”

She blushed. “I didn’t mean you wouldn’t be appealing.”

“You didn’t?” he asked with great innocence, and she laughed again and he had to grin at her.

“I guess I’ll find out a lot about you because all we can do is talk about you. I don’t have anything to tell.”

He smiled, a quick smile that warmed her. “You’ll remember.”

“Tell me about getting started on your ranch.”

Locking his fingers behind his head, he told her about traveling cross-country and not intending to settle here, thinking he would go to Montana or Idaho.

It was hours later when his voice deepened, his words slowing. A nurse checked Jennifer often and had said it would be fine for her to sleep, yet they continued talking, Jennifer learning about Ben’s ranch and life. Finally he dozed and she studied him, his thick lashes dark shadows on his prominent cheekbones, an air of strength about him even when he was asleep. With a sigh she closed her eyes and prayed that her memory would return with the dawn.

* * *

The next morning they boarded a chopper for home, Ben sitting beside Jennifer. She was pale and quiet, remembering no more than she had the night before. The snow had stopped, but more was predicted. As they flew in the first light of dawn, he held her hand in his. She looked solemn, as if she were headed for an ordeal, and he suspected she was worrying because her memory was still absent.

As the sun tilted over the horizon and the Sangre de Cristo Mountains loomed into view, snow sparkled on peaks. The dark horizon to the north was the only hint of the next storm brewing.

They set down and Ben jumped out, swinging her into his arms and striding to the house. Within minutes, Ben had Jennifer seated with her foot elevated and ice packs around it, he had placed a call to Zeb and built fires. He needed a shave and shower and he was hungry again, but he was paying for every second he had the chopper and he couldn’t afford to wait. He rummaged in a closet and found crutches for her. As he pulled his coat on again, he faced her.

“Unless we run into trouble, I’ll be back by midafternoon. You may get a call from my father, but I don’t think anyone can pick you up unless he sends a chopper.” His gaze ran over her ripped slacks and the green sweater. “I can’t get to a store to get you other clothes, but you’re welcome to my shirts or sweaters. They’re in the bottom dresser drawer.”

“Thanks.” She nodded, using one crutch to follow him to the door. He paused as he looked down at her, thinking it seemed natural to have her in his house. He brushed a quick kiss on her forehead and strode outside.

Jennifer stood in the doorway, feeling the cold and watching the husky bound after the tall man. She felt as if Ben Falcon were her world, her family. Aware of a dull ache, she rubbed her hand across her head, gingerly touching the knot that was going down now.

Two men and a horse-drawn wagon had loaded square bales of hay into the chopper. Ben swung up into the chopper followed by another man, while the third one climbed into the wagon and turned toward the barn. In seconds the helicopter lifted and swooped out of sight.

She closed the door and then stood in the rustic kitchen, gazing at pine cabinets, fishing poles in the corner, the fire dancing on the hearth. The house was masculine and comfortable.

She hobbled into the living area, crossing to look at shelves with worn books— fiction and nonfiction, technical books on oil. She rubbed her head again, wishing memory would return, unable to believe that she could work for the monster Ben described. She moved closer to the shelves and a book caught her attention. The jacket was torn on a copy of Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With The Wind, and Jennifer could remember lying on a rumpled fold-out bed and reading the novel. She remembered a crowded room with the Hide-A-Bed, the small house. Elation raced through her and she rubbed her head, straining to remember more, but nothing came. She replaced the book on the shelf, lightly touching it, wondering about the book’s owner who seemed tough and so much an outdoorsman, yet who must like to read, as well.

Jennifer hobbled around the room to a table at one end of the sofa. She picked up a picture of a dark-skinned, dark-eyed young boy with black hair. His features didn’t resemble Ben’s and she wondered who he was.

Her gaze shifted to the phone and she almost dreaded hearing from Texas until she could remember everything. Right now she had to accept whatever people told her. She heard scratching at the door and limped across the room to open it. The husky trotted inside, leaving tiny puddles where his wet paws tracked as he passed her, going to his dog dish in the kitchen.

“Fella, you could at least wipe your paws before you come in.”

* * *

By noon the sun was behind clouds and a howling wind was blowing over the mountain. Ben swung the hatchet and broke ice on the wide metal tank so the horses could drink. When he finished his task he climbed inside the Jeep. At the barn Zeb came striding into sight, waving his arm and Ben waited.

“Boss, I got a call from Derek. Their electricity is out and their generator is acting up.”

“I’m on my way. Call and tell him, will you?”

“You’re going to get caught in the storm.”

“I’ll call if I need help.”

“What about the woman?” Zeb asked, glancing toward the house.

“She’ll be all right. Zeb, I think Weston sent her.”

The short, wiry man frowned, rubbing his thin red nose with a gloved hand. “She doesn’t remember anything?”

“Not yet, but she told me she had to find Ben Falcon. There’s only one reason she would be on that errand. I called Weston, so when the storm lets up, he’ll probably send someone for her.”

“We letting them on the place?”

“Sure, as long as all they do is get her and go.”

“Want me to check on her?”

Ben glanced at the house and shook his head. “You don’t need to. She’s not that injured. I’ll be back before long, I hope.” He shifted and drove away, passing the house and heading down the mountain to the highway to drive to the boys’ ranch.

As he passed beneath the iron arch that read Bar-B Ranch, he thought about the boys he had met at the ranch, some teens, some tiny little kids. The ranch provided a good home for them and Ben tried to support and help any way he could. Since all the money he made had to be plowed back into the ranch, he gave his time and any expertise he might have. Each spring he gave the ranch a new foal and four calves, and this year he hoped he could do more.

When he slowed behind the rambling structure that was home for the director, his assistant and the cook, as well as a dorm for the boys, Derek Hansen came out. He strode to the Jeep with Renzi trudging at his heels.