The Rebel Returns. Michelle DouglasЧитать онлайн книгу.
from and I wanted to help. If your father had known where you went, he’d have tracked you down and dragged you back. He’d have made your life miserable.”
“You knew where I went? How?”
“I didn’t know for sure. But I had a pretty good guess. You didn’t talk about your family much, but when you did, you mentioned your mother’s sister in Virginia. I figured that’s where you went.”
He nodded. “It is. I spent the summer with her before I went on to college.”
“Your mother would have been so proud of you.”
He grew uncomfortable with all of this digging around in his past. His mother had been sick off and on most of his life until her frail body finally gave in and she passed away when he was a teenager. No one ever spoke of her because very few people knew her since she was usually housebound from one ailment or another. The doctors would have him believe that she had a weak body, but he never believed that was what did her in. He was convinced her spirit had been broken by his father, who bullied everyone and ruled the house with an iron fist.
“I’m sorry.” Cleo stepped closer to him. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s okay. It’s nice having someone else around who remembers her. You were always kind to her and she liked you.”
“I liked her, too.”
He remembered how Cleo would stop by the house with school fund-raisers. She never rushed off. She’d sit down with his mother at the kitchen table and chat. At the time he hadn’t liked Cleo wedging her way into his life, but now looking back he realized she’d recognized a loneliness in his mom and had tried her best to fill it.
“Your mother was a really nice lady. And she made the most delicious chocolate chip cookies.”
Before he could say more, his phone buzzed. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. At last, he’d know his test results. He glanced over at Cleo. “I’ll be right back.”
He moved to the kitchen, seeking privacy. No one knew about his brush with death, and he intended to keep it that way. He didn’t want people looking at him as if he was less of a man.
He went to answer the phone but the other party had already disconnected. Jax rushed to check the caller ID but it was blocked, leaving him no clue as to who was trying to contact him. If it was important, they’d call back.
He returned to the front room, where Cleo was studying what was bound to be an expensive painting. He could never tell a Rembrandt from a Picasso. He just knew what he liked.
Jax stuffed his hands into his pockets. His fingers brushed over the smooth metal of the old pocket watch that he kept with him as a good-luck charm. More times than he could count it had brought him peace of mind. Only today its magic hadn’t worked.
Today it reminded him of the past and the fact that Cleo’s grandfather had given him the watch. Jax’s gut was telling him that her grandfather would want him to help Cleo, no matter how hard it would be for him.
* * *
Cleo could feel Jax’s presence before she heard him. She turned and noticed the dark shadows beneath his eyes. She didn’t know what the man had been up to lately, probably too much. He certainly needed some rest.
“I’ll get out of your way. But before I go, I’d like to confirm our arrangement.”
Jax’s brows rose. “I didn’t realize we’d come to any agreement.”
“Seriously, you’re going to make me plead with you?”
He looked as though he were weighing his options. “You really want to put up with me for the next few weeks?”
Was he talking about catering to his every whim and desire? Her mind filled with the vision of him pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers. Okay, so maybe she hadn’t totally outgrown her childhood crush. But fantasies were one thing. Acting on them was quite a different subject.
She’d learned her lesson about love. Men were to be treated with caution. She may date now and then, but she never let those relationships get serious. By dating the same guy less than a handful of times, she never let herself get close enough to risk her heart.
With Jax, it’d be a temporary arrangement—no chance for either of them to get the wrong idea about their relationship. “If you agree, I’ll do a good job for you.”
He glanced down at his phone as though expecting it to ring again. “In exchange, you’ll keep my identity a secret. As far as everyone is concerned I’m Mr. Smith.”
“I will make your privacy my top priority. But what’s up with all of the secrecy?”
“Let’s just say I’m on a much-needed vacation and I don’t want anyone to disturb it.”
“If you’re supposed to be here for some R and R, you might consider turning off your phone. There’s nothing so important that it can’t wait. Why don’t you let me reserve you a blackjack table for later today?”
Jax smiled and shook his head. “With your determination, I think you’ll do quite well in your new position.”
She straightened her shoulders. “I plan to.”
He moved toward the couch and picked up the television remote. It was almost as if he’d forgotten she was in the room.
“Mr. Smith.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “Jax, if you’re going to go by a fake name, you should at least answer to it.”
He looked over at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
“I’ll make sure your line of credit is established and your table is ready. I’ll be back as soon as everything is in place.”
“There’s no need to rush. I’ll be fine.”
“The fridge is stocked. Help yourself.” She started for the door. Curiosity was eating at her. Something was troubling him and she was starting to worry about him. “Jax, just tell me one thing, are you in trouble with the authorities?”
“Why would you ask that?” He expelled a weary sigh. “You’re still puzzled by the alias. Did you ever just want to get away? Want to be someone else for a little bit?”
Sure she had, especially after growing up in a small town where everyone knew everybody else’s business. She used to daydream about the day she’d get to leave. The funny thing was the farther she got from her hometown, the more she missed it. Not the ranching part but the people.
And now that her father was gone and the ranch was in trouble, she felt as though she should be there to help out. But she wasn’t wanted. The backs of her eyes stung as she recalled how her mother had told her to leave at her father’s funeral, accusing her of being responsible for his death.
Jax stepped closer. “Cleo, what is it?”
She blinked back the unshed tears. “Nothing.”
“You sure don’t look like it’s nothing.”
“Well, you would be wrong. So we’ll keep each other’s secrets. Yours from the rest of the world and mine from my brother. Deal?”
He frowned but nodded.
She slipped out the door. It was only then that she could breathe easy. Jax was here for more than just a vacation. Of that she was certain. He had a problem and if she had to guess, it was what had him looking so run-down. It must be something big and troublesome. But what could it be?
And why was she letting herself get drawn in when she had enough of her own problems?
WHAT HAD MADE him think a trip to Las Vegas was a good idea?