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“You lied about your age that summer. You told me you were seventeen. You told me you would be a high school senior to my college freshman, just one year behind me. Instead, you were a fifteen-year-old child.”
“Almost sixteen,” she retorted, stung. “And I lied because I knew you wouldn’t kiss me if I told you the truth.”
“Kiss you?” The thread holding his temper snapped. He literally heard it, the sound as loud and sharp as the crack of a whip. He came at her, not even realizing he moved until he caught her shoulders in his hands and yanked her onto her toes. “I made love to you. You were a damn virgin. You were … untouchable and I touched you. The one true home I’d had since my parents died and you ruined it for me. Took it from me. I lost my scholarship because of you because I was no longer of ‘good character.’” Dear God that had hurt. Devastated. “Because of you Harvard wouldn’t touch me.”
“What?” He couldn’t mistake the shock on her face. Nor could she have faked the way every scrap of color drained from her face and the pupils of her eyes narrowed to pinpricks. “Oh, Justice. I’m so sorry. They told me you’d left early for college … I never realized …”
He released her and stepped away. “Put on your clothes.”
That brought color back to her face. Without a word, she snatched up the various bits and pieces scattered across the suite and dressed. Even that she did with grace and elegance, and Justice turned his back, unable to watch without—Without wanting her again. Without touching her again. Without snatching her into his arms, carrying her to that bed and making love to her until they were both too exhausted to move. How the hell could he still want her after what she’d done?
“Justice?”
He hadn’t heard her approach, but he sure as hell felt her tentative touch on his bare arm. He almost broke, catching himself at the last instant. He turned on her, wanting her to understand just how much she’d cost him. How he’d never forgive her duplicity.
“That final home, that place—” he practically spit out the word “—they put me those final months was the worst of them all. They knew what I’d done and treated me …” He broke off, shaking his head, his back teeth clamping as he fought back the blistering spill of emotions. Emotions he refused to acknowledge. Refused to allow to touch him ever again. “When I turned eighteen, they kicked me loose. I had nowhere to go, no one to help me. No job or money and no chance of acquiring either.”
Her breath hitched throughout his recital, disbelief warring with … It took him a moment to identify the emotion. Pain? Heartbreak? “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t.”
Tears came then, sliding down her cheeks and reddening her eyes and nose. She wasn’t a pretty crier. Instead of pleasing him, the discovery bothered him on some deep, visceral level, perhaps because it suggested that her tears were sincere. He should have taken pleasure in her distress, felt some sort of redemption. Once upon a time he might have. But not now. Not after all these years. He struggled to ignore the tears, using her emotion to lock away his own. To distance himself from that long-ago time.
“Are you even an engineer?” he demanded.
“No, of course not.”
Of course not? God save him from illogical women. “You are at an engineering conference. Only engineers were permitted to attend the keynote speech. No guests. No media. No—” He made an impatient gesture. “Whatever you are.”
“I write and illustrate children’s storybooks.”
It was so far out of expectation that it took him a split second to adjust his thinking. “Then, what the hell were you doing at my speech?”
“I saw your name and photograph on one of the hotel placards and recognized you. I slipped in on impulse.”
“You told me you were an engineer.”
She scrubbed impatiently at her cheeks before planting her hands on her hips. “I most certainly did not. In fact, I told you I wasn’t.”
He sorted through their time together and came up empty. “No, you didn’t.”
“It was when we had tea. Or rather, didn’t have tea.” She drove that point home with pinpoint accuracy. “You asked if we’d met at an engineering conference and I said I wasn’t an engineer.” She hesitated. Blushed. “Well, to be honest—”
“Yes, please. I’m sure it would make a nice change for you.”
Anger flickered to life in her gaze. “I never lied to you. I told you we’d met before. I never claimed to be an engineer. In fact, I started to explain what I did for a living when the waitress arrived. If she hadn’t interrupted, I’d have been able to finish my sentence. By the time she left, the conversation switched gears.” She folded her arms across her chest. “As I recall, you asked me for another hint.”
“Maybe you should have told me you were the woman who ruined my chance to attend Harvard. That would have been an excellent hint.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Her apology sounded sincere, not that it helped.
Even so, he caught the distress and pain. Not on her own account, but for him. Not that he wanted it. “They could have pressed charges against me. Your parents threatened to.”
“If they’d pressed charges I would have told the authorities the truth. That I lied to you about my age and what happened between us was consensual. Quite consensual,” she made a point of adding, then released a sigh heavy with regret. “I swear to you, Justice, I didn’t know they’d found out. They never told me. I just woke up one day and you were gone.”
“And that would have made everything all right? Damn it to hell, Daisy. I took you to a tattoo parlor—” Another thought struck him and he groped on the dresser for Rumi, his fingers fumbling across the smooth surface. “Son of a bitch. I let you drive to the tattoo parlor.”
She reddened. “I was a bit … precocious back then.”
“Precocious?” he roared. “You were a walking, talking bundle of rampaging hormones intent on getting into as much trouble as possible, while dragging me along for the ride.”
“That, too.” Her expression turned wistful. “But it was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it?”
“Out.” He couldn’t take another minute without totally losing his temper. What was it about her that drove him so close to the edge? “I want you to leave. Now.”
“For what it’s worth, Justice, I really am sorry. I never realized you paid such a steep price for something so wonderful.”
“It wasn’t wonderful for me.”
“No,” she whispered. “I guess not. Just like last night wasn’t wonderful, either.”
“It was sex.”
She flinched and he realized he’d hurt her. Really hurt her. She moistened her lips and gave a curt nod. “Of course. Well, thanks for the amazing sex, Justice.”
Without another word, she turned and left the bedroom and his only thought was that she considered their sexual encounter amazing. He wasn’t sure any of his previous partners had ever called it amazing. It shouldn’t matter, and yet somehow it did. He heard her rummage around in her carryall for endless moments, the contents clashing and chattering in agitation. Then silence. What the hell was she doing? Because he knew damn well she hadn’t left. He could still feel her. And that alone threatened to drive him insane. Finally, finally, finally, the suite door opened and closed behind her.
He released his breath in a long sigh. Okay, she was gone, this time for good. It might have taken fourteen-point-six minutes instead of the nine plus he’d originally calculated, but at least the confrontation was behind him. He headed for the living area and crossed to the phone, intent on alerting the front desk of his early departure. Sitting on the desk he found a book that hadn’t been there before. A children’s storybook. He set Rumi aside and reached for the book, hesitating at the last minute.
The cover exploded with color, teeming with plants and flowers that seemed to overrun the jacket. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the chaotic riot of shape and shade. Then the analytical side of his brain kicked in and he began to separate the various objects, leaf from bud, fruit from flower, until finally he caught the intense gold eyes peering through the jungle foliage, their appearance almost identical to her tattoo.
The eyes were also eerily familiar, maybe because he looked at them every damn day in the mirror.
He touched the cover, tracing the bit of black panther she’d buried within the scene. Unable to help himself, he opened the book. She’d autographed it with her first name and a swift sketch of a flower—a daisy, of course. “To Justice,” she wrote. “I got it wrong. You’re not Cat.”
The words didn’t make any sense to him until he leafed through the pages and discovered that she’d named the panther Cat. Beside the huge jungle cat romped a domesticated kitten named Kit. She was a tabby, one with green eyes and wheat-blond stripes, identical in name and appearance to the kitten he’d given Daisy the day they’d made love. He’d chosen the silly creature because it reminded him of her. He’d even tied a huge floppy green bow around its neck, one that had been half-shredded by the time he’d presented Daisy with the kitten.
Unable to resist, Justice flipped the book to the beginning and read more carefully this time. He quickly realized this was the first in a series of books about the adventures of Kit and Cat, and told the tale of a kitten lost in the jungle who meets a panther cub. The two became best friends. Kit caused nothing but trouble and Justice found himself smiling since it was so similar to the sort of escapades Daisy used to get into. But Cat was always there to rescue her, to protect her from the dangers of the jungle. Even when it meant choosing between her and his pride, Cat faithfully remained by Kit’s side.
He flipped the book closed and his glance fell on Rumi. Somehow, at some point during his argument with Daisy, he’d transformed the sphere. It sat on the desk, its ebony pieces gleaming in the sunlight, the mathematical symbols flowing symmetrically across the metallic petals of the flower he’d created.
A daisy.
Justice’s hands balled into fists and he took a step back, rejecting both creations—book and flower. He wasn’t Cat any more than she was Kit. Even more telling, she’d made a mistake in the book. Didn’t she know? Hadn’t she researched her facts? Panthers didn’t have prides.
Panthers were loners.
Four (#ulink_28b791c8-d8fb-571d-ba3d-1caa4e0568fc)
Nineteen months, fifteen days, five hours, nineteen minutes and forty-three seconds later …
Daisy jiggled the tiny earbud that never seemed willing to fit properly in her ear. “Are you sure you have the directions right, Jett?” she asked the girl she’d agreed to foster nearly a year earlier.
“Positive,” came the breezy retort.
With an exclamation of disgust, Daisy pulled off the pavement and onto the narrow shoulder. A harsh November wind swept by, causing the small compact rental to shudder from the blast. This time of year never failed to depress her. It was an in-between season that offered neither the crisp and glorious richness of fall, nor the deep, frosty slumber of full winter. Instead, it hovered somewhere in the middle, a twilight that was neither a beginning nor an end, not a becoming nor a final metamorphosis.
She snagged the map from the passenger seat and fought through the various fanlike folds to spread it open across the steering wheel, even though she could picture every road and turn in perfect detail from the last time she’d checked it. Sure enough, her memory hadn’t failed her. None of the various lines and squiggles included the turnoff for the homestead Jett had described.
“Listen up, Jett,” Daisy announced. “I’m lost in the wilds of Colorado. This place isn’t on the map and your stupid GPS is demanding I make a U-turn at my earliest convenience and leave. I’m inclined to do what she suggests.”
“Dora is an idiot,” Jett announced cheerfully.
“I believe I told you that when you insisted I take her.”
“She’s still young. Give her time to mature.”
Daisy choked on a laugh. “She’s young? That’s rich, coming from you.”
“I’m sixteen and eight months, or I will be tomorrow. Dora is eleven months and three days, the exact same age as Noelle.”
Daisy flinched at Jett’s precision. Even though there was no biological relationship, her comment was so like Justice. When would she get over it? When would those little reminders finally stop bothering her? Never. That’s when.
As impossible as it seemed, she’d fallen in love with Justice when she’d been little more than a child and had been devastated when he’d disappeared without a word of explanation. Without even saying goodbye. She’d mourned for years, searched for him for years, the constant hope dancing in her heart that he’d somehow find his way back to her. So strong was the hope that she refused to form any other attachments until her junior year at college. To her intense disappointment that relationship had never matched what she’d experienced with Justice.
And then a miracle had happened and she’d found him again. Despite the fact that they’d only shared a single night together, this latest parting had been far worse, perhaps
because they’d bonded on an adult level. Or so she’d thought. For those few short hours she’d opened herself completely to him, just as she had as a teenager. Allowed herself to believe that he’d connected as deeply and utterly as she had.
If it hadn’t been for her daughter, she didn’t know how she’d have gotten through the past year and a half. And now that it had become apparent that Noelle shared her father’s brilliance, Daisy had tracked Justice down to the bitter ends of the earth. Though Jett didn’t realize it, the brazen teen reminded her of him, as well, possessing both his keen intellect in addition to his meticulous nature. Of course, she also reminded Daisy of herself at that age—creative, a bit outrageous, brash, and pure trouble waiting to happen.
Daisy set her jaw, thinking about the coming confrontation with Justice. Somehow, someway, she needed to harden herself against her emotions. To shut them off as cleanly as he had. She couldn’t risk tumbling a third time. She didn’t think she’d survive it.
“Okay, Jett. Let’s get this done,” Daisy announced. “Now where am I and how do I get to Justice? Because from what I can see, there’s nothing out here for a billion miles.”
“That’s quite a feat considering the circumference of the earth is only 24,901.55 miles. That’s at the equator. If you’re referring to the circumference from pole to pole—”
Daisy’s back teeth clamped together. “You know what I mean.”
Jett had initially been her parents’ foster child. She’d still be one, if the Marcelluses hadn’t withdrawn from the program due to her father’s heart attack. When he’d become ill, Jett begged Daisy to take the required steps necessary to foster her since the two had struck up a firm friendship. Fortunately, Daisy’s storybook series had been a huge hit, one that provided the sort of royalty checks enjoyed by only an elite few, enabling her to live her life as she saw fit, including fostering a precocious teenager. That had been ten months ago and they’d discovered to their mutual delight that the arrangement worked well for them both.
“Okay, listen and obey,” Jett instructed. “Drive precisely three-point-two miles south from your current location. There will be a dirt road on your left. Turn down it. Continue on for another ten-point-nine miles. If you still don’t see anything, call me.”
“And one more thing … How do you know where I am?”
“Dora told me.”
Daisy sighed. “Tattletale.”
“Noelle and I are following your GPS signal, aren’t we, Red?”
Daisy caught the happy babble of her daughter’s voice slipping across the airwaves and found herself missing her baby more than she thought possible. It was the first time she’d left Noelle for an extended period of time and she found the separation beyond distressing.
She put the car in gear and pulled out onto the pavement. “I’ll call you when I get there.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
An undercurrent of excitement threaded through Jett’s voice. Ever since she discovered Daisy actually knew The. Great. Justice. St. John. and more impressive, he was Noelle’s father, Jett had worked nonstop to uncover his lair. At least, that’s how Daisy thought of it, considering he kept his location so well hidden. Heaven knew, she’d never been successful at locating him. And she had tried.
The minute she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d spent a full year and a half attempting to track him down with zero success. She’d sent endless letters through every engineering source she could think of, again with zero success. It had taken Jett precisely one month. Okay, twenty-nine days, eleven hours, fourteen minutes and a handful of seconds. The teenager had noted the exact time in her final progress report. Which brought Daisy to her current location and task … to snare the elusive panther in his equally elusive den.
The fourteen-point-whatever mile drive took nearly an hour. Daisy couldn’t help but think the rutted road, one that threatened to break both axles, as well as shake loose most of her teeth, was a deliberate attempt on Justice’s part to keep unwanted visitors from accidentally stumbling across him. Because, sure enough, the instant Dora’s mileage indicator hit the combined distance of surface and dirt roads Jett had decreed, Daisy crested a hill and found a huge complex sprawled beneath her, blending so beautifully into the surrounding meadow that it almost looked like a mirage.
Brigadoon rising from the mists of time.
She put through a call to Jett. “I’m here.”
“I found it? For real?” Jett practically squealed in excitement, sounding for the first time in a long time like a typical teenager, something she definitely was not. “Yes!”
“You’re pumping your fist, aren’t you?”
“Yes!”
“I’ll call you after my meeting.”
“I want it word for word.”
“I have a photographic memory, not audiographic, but I’ll do my best.”
Daisy removed the earbud and switched it off. Shoving the car in gear, she rolled down the hillside toward what appeared to be a ranch complex, complete with barn, paddock, pastures, homestead and even a windmill. Despite that, a vague sensation of emptiness hung over the place, as though time held its breath. Rolling to a stop in front of the sprawling house, she switched off the engine and sat, fighting for calm.
All during the lengthy process of tracking Justice down, she’d shied away from considering how she’d deal with “the moment” when they finally came face-to-face. What would she say? How would he react? Would he even care that she’d given birth to their daughter?
Or would he say something clever like, “Fascinating,” and then go invent more robotic whatzit sensors and cooperating actuators with autonomous humans, or whatever he was the best on the planet at doing. Not that it mattered. So long as he acknowledged his daughter, acknowledged his responsibility in her creation and supplied their baby with what she needed, Daisy didn’t really care what he did or where he did it.
So. This was it.
She eyed the wide front porch and gnawed on her lower lip. No more procrastinating. Time to beard the mad scientist in his secret lab. Smacking her palm against the steering wheel for emphasis, she shoved open the door to the rental car, climbed out and slammed it closed. Marching up the steps to the front porch, she crossed to the entryway. Something about it struck her as odd and it took a moment to realize what.
No windows in or around the door.
No handle.
No doorbell or knocker.
Damn.
Balling up her fist, she pounded on the thick oak barricade. “Justice? Justice St. John? I want to talk to you.”
Nothing.
