Neil and Martin instantly turned their attention to Jack.
"Sorry. It didn't look that bad," Neil said.
"That bad?" Jack echoed. "I'm pouring blood."
Ken choked. When Mari touched his mind, he was laughing. For the first time since she'd met Jack, she actually liked him a little. She respected him as a soldier, was filled with awe and admiration for him as a sniper, but she hadn't liked him very much and wasn't altogether certain she wanted Briony with him.
With one small performance Jack had changed her opinion of him. He wasn't the type of man to call attention to himself or be bothered by a small wound. He had his own scars, evidence of his torture at the hands of the same man who had had Ken for so long. Jack Norton had the reputation of being as tough as nails. She sent him a small smile and helped his game.
"I'll be sure and tell Briony how tough you are."
"Briony's probably going to hit me with something when she sees me. I promised her I'd be careful."
"I'll tell her you were showing off."
"You do that and I'm retaliating. That sister of yours can be mean."
Ken closed his eyes, fingers tight around Mari's, and allowed himself to drift. He was physically exhausted, three days without sleep and his body on fire from the nails, but he had Marigold and that was all that mattered. He relaxed, listening to his brother banter with her while the helicopter took them far away from Peter Whitney and his insane experiments.
CHAPTER 19
Ken's home, situated deep in the Montana wilderness and surrounded by national forest on three sides, was the most beautiful thing Mari had ever seen. Ken stood beside her as she stared up in awe at the giant log cabin. To her, the house looked like the epitome of the wonderful homes she'd fantasized about when she'd watched old movies the men had occasionally smuggled in for the women.
"We have twenty-four hundred acres, Mari, so you definitely have freedom." Ken covered his sudden anxiety with a small smile. "Unless you think you'd prefer to be a city girl." He could never live comfortably in the city, but he knew if she wanted that--needed at least to try--he would go with her.
Mari shook her head. "I wouldn't do well in a city. Too many people, too much traffic and noise. I prefer solitude."
Ken let out his breath. "We're completely self-sufficient here. If we ever ran short of funds, we could harvest trees. We actually have a workable gold mine too, although we've never bothered with it. The water supply to the property is gravity-fed, and we use a hydro-electric system that powers batteries." He wanted her to love the place the way he did, to feel the sense of freedom in the larger-than-life forest surrounding them and the complete self-sufficiency of their home. "Right now we're using only a very small percentage of the power available to us. Jack and I could live off the land, hunting and harvesting crops if necessary, so this is a perfect place for us."
"I didn't expect it to be so big."
"Right now the house is over three thousand square feet. Jack and Briony have the larger wing. We've been working on a nursery for them. We share a kitchen, dining room, and great room with them, and our wing is on the other side. At the moment we have a bedroom, bath, and office, but I have a second bedroom roughed in. The garage nearly doubles the space, so we have plenty of room to expand if we want to, and if Jack and Briony keep it up, we'll have to very soon." He flashed a small grin. "They're expecting twins."
"You never mentioned that."
"I like to save the best for last."
She smiled at him. "That's kind of scary. Twins run in your family, do they?"
He nodded. "Big time."
She looked away from him back to the house. "I love the logs. What are they?"
Ken didn't let his disappointment show. She wasn't ready for commitment. He had gotten her to his home in the Montana forest; he had to be happy with that and hope he could convince her to stay. "Western white pine. We fitted them together with Swedish cope and used oil to finish them off. Jack made most of the furniture in the house. He's very good at woodworking."
"It's beautiful. I love the porch."
"The roof is built for warfare, and we have an escape tunnel. We have alarms and a few traps to let us know if unwanted visitors show up. The wood shop is just down there in that meadow, and the smaller garage houses the equipment. We have a vegetable garden in that little strip of land where the sun shines the most. Briony planted the flowers everywhere."
Mari's hand gripped his. "Is she here?"
"Don't sound so scared. No, Jack will bring her tomorrow. He wanted to see her first. He's protective of her."
"He still doesn't quite trust me, does he?"
"Jack doesn't trust anything or anyone when it comes to Briony," Ken said. "She's his world, and if anything happened to her, he'd go berserk. She'll be here, honey, trust me; she's excited to know you're alive and well. Nothing is going to keep her from coming home."
"Except Jack."
"For a night. He wants her to himself tonight, and I was hoping we'd have a few hours together."
Mari stood at the bottom of the steps looking at the wrap-around verandah. The night was falling and the wind rustled through the trees. There was a bite of cold in the air, enough to make her shiver.
"Are you afraid of me, Mari?" Ken asked.
She lifted her hand to his face. As always, in the shadow of the night, the scarring faded away, leaving masculine perfection behind. "No, Ken, it's not you." She hesitated as if searching for the right words--or the trust she needed to expose her fears. "It's me. I don't know anything about who I am or what I want. When I'm away from you, I feel as if I can't breathe without you. How can I ever learn to be complete if I go from never making a single decision on my own to being in such an intense relationship?" She looked stricken. "I'm just taking it for granted that you want a relationship. You've never said. Not once."
She retreated, stepping back away from him, away from the house. The forest, with all the gently swaying trees and thick foliage, seemed a refuge, something she knew, somewhere she could hide. She felt exposed and vulnerable and very confused.
"I'll say it now, Mari. I never want you to leave me. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. I can give you time--whatever you need." Even as he said it, he didn't know if he was telling the truth. He wanted to give her time, to give her freedom, but there were limits to his abilities and he knew them better than most people.
She traced the outline of his lips. "You're frowning."
"I was lying. I can't lie to you like that. I'm not a perfect man, Mari. I want to be everything you need, but I can't watch you with other men while you figure out whether or not this relationship is the one you want."
"Other men?" Her dark eyes glittered at him. "What do other men have to do with this?"
"I don't want you looking to other men to help you figure things out."
Her eyebrows drew together, and both hands clenched into fists. She glanced toward the forest again, then resolutely turned toward the house and stalked up the stairs to the porch to keep from hitting him. "Other men? You have got to be out of your mind. Did you already forget where I came from?"
Mari paced across the porch, furious with him and herself. She'd put herself in a vulnerable position. She didn't belong here. She stole another look at the forest. She belonged there. She belonged with her sisters. She could trust them. They'd had a plan together, and she had deviated from the plan. She pressed her fingers to her suddenly throbbing temple. What had she done?
He cleared his throat, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and then shoved his hand through his hair in agitation. How the hell did men do this kind of thing on a daily basis? It was like walking through a minefield--one wrong step and everything would blow up in his face. "You're right, that was stupid of me. I'm not doing this very well."
"Get over being worried about me and other men, Ken," she snapped.
He nodded. He'd have to find a way to curb his jealousy fast. She wasn't a woman t
o put up with it. There was no way to miss the clenched fist. "Most women would have trouble with the solitude up here. In the winter, the road is impassable without snowmobiles. There aren't any phones. We have a radio of course, but not too many women want to be so isolated."
Her gaze flicked to his face. "Do I seem to you the kind of woman who has to be entertained all the time? I'm used to isolation."
"Mari, I've never done this before. Never. I've never once brought a woman to this house or wanted a relationship with one. I may be making every mistake in the book here, but I'm trying to be honest, not judge you."
"Never?"
"Never what?"
"You've never brought a woman here before?"
"This is my sanctuary, sweetheart. My home. I come here when the world closes in on me and I need to regroup. It's calm and peaceful and feels like home. You belong here; no one else ever has."
"I don't really know what a home feels like." She gestured toward the forest. "I look at that and I feel like it's calling to me. I want to run free, Ken. Just run through the trees." Her eyes met his. "Could I do that?"
He tried to still his pounding heart. He knew better than to try to hold a wild bird, but he wanted to grab her with both hands. "Of course. Tomorrow we'll get you a pair of running shoes. You can go out anytime you like. I prefer mornings, but it's beautiful all the time."
She didn't reply, just stood staring at the beckoning trees.
Ken held out his hand to her. She might not be fully committed to a relationship with him, but he was with her. She looked right and felt right in his sanctuary. More than anything else, for all his uneasiness over what to say and do, he felt happy, really happy, just with her being on his property. All he had to do was find a way to make her feel the same way.
Mari put her hand in his and reluctantly followed him to the solid door, trying not to show fear. "How do you keep this house warm when it's snowing?"
"We use wood heat. We have very efficient fireplaces in the bedrooms, great room, and kitchen. We can close off each wing of the house so it's private and separate, or open them and have one large home."
"And Briony lives here year round?" She latched on to that. She wanted to see Briony--just once. One time. She had lived with memories and fantasies about her twin for so long, she wanted to see her.
"We wouldn't leave her here alone if we were gone on a mission. Jack would never allow that." The words slipped out before he could censor them.
Mari glanced at him sharply as she stepped across the threshold. "Allow?"
"When it comes to Briony, we're very safety conscious. I imagine you will be as well. She's carrying twins, and Whitney has made several tries to take her. His last try cost us part of the house and one outer building, but the son of a bitch didn't get her."
Mari looked around her. She could see a woman's touch in the home, and her heart did a funny little somersault. Her sister. Briony was really alive and well and living right here, in this house. Her sister whom she hadn't seen in years, but had thought of every single day.
There were thick quilts lying across the backs of well-made furniture, the kind of quilts Mari knew were made with love, by hand. Stained glass was cut above each of the windows, the work intricate and beautiful, colors swirling together to form fantasy pictures undoubtedly chosen, or made, by her sister.
Mari walked through the empty rooms, hearing the echo of laughter, feeling the bond of love woven into the very walls. By the time she reached Ken's bedroom, tears burned in her eyes and clogged her throat. She couldn't do this. Why had she thought she could? She wasn't in the least bit feminine. She couldn't decorate a house, or be any kind of a wife or partner. She didn't know about anything but fighting a battle. She should have gone with her sisters--the ones she knew, the ones different in the way she was different. They'd never lived in a home and didn't know the first thing about living in a relationship.
Briony lived here, and Briony knew exactly how to be a wife and mother. She obviously cared for both men, not just Jack. Mari would never be able to live up to her sister. And she was happy for Briony--she really was. She was just sad for herself and feeling like a complete fool to have thought she could be someone she wasn't.
Ken's heart nearly stopped when he walked into his bedroom. Mari stood in the middle of it, weeping. "What is it, honey? What's wrong?"
She held out her arms as wide as she could. "Look at this place. I don't know what to do with all of this room. My clothes fit in a locker at the end of my cot. I don't know how to cook, or take care of a house, or even be in a relationship. What was I thinking?"
He swept her into his arms, holding her close. Her body trembled against his, and he cupped her head in the palm of his hand, pressing her face against his heart, sheltering her as best he could with his own body.
"Listen to me, honey. Neither of us has ever done this. We're bound to panic, but it doesn't matter. You hear me, Mari? It doesn't matter. This is us. The two of us. What is normal for everyone else doesn't matter. We'll build our relationship brick by brick, and it will be so strong no one will ever tear it down. I'll never walk away from you. Never. If there is one thing you can count it, it's me standing by you. There aren't mistakes here. We'll just work it all out at our own pace."
"But Briony made this place a home, not only for Jack, but for you. I can see that she did. She's every bit as much your family as Jack is."
"She lights up Jack's world, Mari," he said, trying to follow her train of thought. "Don't you want me to care for her?"
"Of course I do. You should, but I can't be like her. I have no idea what to do. I don't even have clothes, Ken. I'm just here with absolutely nothing."
He lifted her chin and brushed her soft mouth with his. She sounded so distressed that he felt distressed. "You don't have to do or have anything. I want you, Mari, not clothes or a servant."
"Shouldn't I be putting flowers in a vase? Or pretending to cook dinner?" She looked totally alarmed. "I have no idea how to cook. I've never cooked. Never. This isn't going to work, Ken."
He realized she was totally panic-stricken. She was staring at the bookshelves and the cases of music. Ken kissed her again. "Do you think that matters? And you can't put flowers in a vase if I haven't gotten them for you, can you? Tomorrow we can go into town and get you enough clothes to fill the closet and dresser if that's what you want. And I'll buy flowers and a vase, and we'll put the damn things in it together. None of it really matters to me."
"Maybe not now, this minute, but sometime you'll want me to know how to run a household." She felt totally inadequate thinking about all the things she didn't know how to do--but that her sister did. Her sister was a stranger to her, had lived in a loving family, not a military barracks. Cami! I need you. Oh, God, what have I done? Panic was new to her. She hadn't panicked when she was captured. She hadn't panicked when she was shot, but standing in a real home surrounded by everything unfamiliar to her . . .
"If you want to run it, you'll figure it out; if not, well, it's been just fine for years now."
She clung to him, her confidence shaken. "I've never decided when to go to bed at night. Lights out at eleven, unless I've caused trouble, and then it's nine or ten."
"You can stay up all night, sweetheart."
"I've never been allowed out of my room after nine."
"If you feel like driving to California, we'll hop in the car and go. Or if you just want to go into the kitchen and get a piece of fresh fruit, do it."
"And sit outside on the front porch?" She clenched her teeth together to keep them from chattering. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving Ken, but she couldn't stay. This wasn't her. It would never be her. She belonged with her sisters--the women who knew what life with Whitney was all about.
"All night, Mari. Briony likes the roof, although Jack gets a little bent now that she's really showing. But if it's the roof, I'm up there with you. It's one of my favorite spots. And there are trees to climb and trails to hi
ke. Have you ever ridden a bike?"
She shook her head, a fresh flood of tears filling her eyes. "Little children ride bikes and I can't even do that. I've never been on a horse either."
"We've got mountain bikes. I'll teach you."
"It's frightening. I keep thinking about the others, my sisters out there right now, wondering how to make a decision like these. Whitney even maintained our diets for us. I detest taking vitamins." She watched him closely for a reaction.
"I mix mine in the blender with a killer recipe of fruit and juice your sister told me about, but if you don't want to take vitamins, then don't. More than half the population of the world doesn't. You have the right to make your own decisions on everything, honey." Ken rested his chin on top of her head. "Unless it comes to personal safety; then my instincts are going to take over and I'm going to be calling the shots."
"Or other men." She had to find a way to cope. She had to or she was going to run as fast and as far as she could.
He nearly choked. "We're not even going there. My heart can't take it. Our relationship is exclusive to the two of us. Marriage. Husband and wife. Partnership. Team. I can deal with all of the above, but not another man."
"So there are rules," she persisted, her stomach settling as she deliberately provoked him.
"Well, sure. Even Jack and I have rules with living on the same property. It's a matter of respect."
"So no relationship has two men and one woman."
"Not ours." He was decisive.
"But there are some," she persisted. "Because, you know, there might be some advantages . . ."
He held her at arm's length, looking down at her upturned face. There was laughter in her dark eyes, the distress fading as she teased him. "That isn't funny." But it was impossible not to smile when she was smiling.
"You deserved it. You're an idiot, you know that? Why do you keep thinking I want other men in my life? I don't even like men. Well," she corrected, "most men."
"So you were teasing me just to get a rise out of me."
"It was easy. You're too easy."
"That's just wrong, Mari," he said and bent to take possession of her mouth. She tasted of freedom, sweet and fresh like a summer rain. His arms locked her to him, and his mouth moved over hers, tugging at her lower lip, the one that was so full and sexy and drove him wild whenever he looked at her.