Shadows At Sunset - Anne Stuart [62]
She used to wonder if Jackson had ordered them killed. She had no doubt he was capable of it—unlike her siblings she had no illusions about how ruthless Jackson really was.
She wasn’t fool enough to ask. She wasn’t fool enough to care. Ever again.
And now the earth had turned again, and he was suddenly there. Richard. No, Rico, with his beautiful hands and his gentle voice.
She’d learned her lesson, long ago. But he’d tricked her—if she’d known who he was she would have kept far away from him. She’d always known the AA meetings would be nothing but trouble. She should have listened to her instincts.
Except, hadn’t it been her instincts that had sent her out with him last night? Something deep inside that she thought she’d managed to destroy?
She wouldn’t let it surface again. She didn’t like that kind of pain—life was too short to put up with it. She liked forgetfulness. Oblivion. Peace.
She turned into the overgrown drive leading up to La Casa. If she wanted peace, La Casa de Sombras was the last place she’d find it.
But then, she’d come to realize, there was no place on this earth that would give her the kind of peace she craved.
No place at all.
14
Zachariah Redemption Coltrane was feeling like shit. He’d never had many illusions about his own nobility. Neither did he tend to feel sorry for himself. Sure, he had a few strikes against him from the start, in particular his family, though come to think of it, he’d take his long-vanished family over Jilly’s all too present dependents. And his entire family hadn’t vanished. He was still having a hell of a time coming to terms with the truth about Rachel-Ann.
He had a sister. He was torn between a sentimental streak and annoyance. This new-found knowledge had thrown a monkey wrench into his plans, and once they were skewed, Jilly Meyer had managed to get under his skin, complicating matters even more.
He’d planned to leave. He’d decided earlier that night, when he couldn’t sleep and found his way downstairs to the abandoned living room. Meyer was already set up for a fall, the Justice Department was ready to make its move, and there was nothing more to be gained by staying there. Nothing was going to bring his mother back, and there was no guarantee he would ever find out the truth about her death. Maybe it was time to get back to his own life.
It seemed an obvious answer to a difficult situation. He couldn’t seduce Rachel-Ann, and Jilly had no particular value in the scheme of things. He should just walk away.
If he were a decent human being that’s just what he’d do, but he had no illusions about himself. He was a cold-blooded bastard, through and through, and he couldn’t walk away from revenge, even for his fragile sister’s sake. Word had it that she and her father were devoted. If he brought Meyer down then it might put Rachel-Ann over the edge.
He didn’t want to be the one to destroy his own. He didn’t particularly want to hurt Jilly, either, though why he should care one way or the other mystified him. Some latent decency that needed to be squashed, fast. Jackson Dean Meyer fought dirty, and there was no way Coltrane could bring him down if he played by the rules.
And he had to bring him down. If Jilly and Rachel-Ann were hurt, well, that was just their bad luck. He wasn’t about to let latent, unnatural stirrings of decency get in the way.
He’d managed to get the shower working in his bathroom, and by the time he came downstairs it was after eight. He expected Jilly wouldn’t appear until she absolutely had to, and if she could manage it she’d keep out of his way for days. She wasn’t going to manage it. He kept seeing that horrified expression on her face as she tumbled off him onto the floor, soaked and messy and dazed. He kept remembering the tight urgency in her body, the sound she made when she came. And he kept wanting to go upstairs and finish what they started.
She’d probably locked and barricaded the door, and he’d been sorely tempted to follow her upstairs, kick it open and finish things. She couldn’t lock out what frightened her. It wouldn