Breath of Scandal(116)

"For one thing," he said to the attentive Loner, "walking away from problems Re that is a cowardly way to deal with them."

What purpose had it served for him to drop out of society when Debra died? It had temporarily anesthetized him, enabling him to continue living when he had been absolutely indifferent to life. Following his discovery of the bodies, his only reason for living was to give Haskell Scanlan pain. Having done that, he hadn't cared if he ever drew another breath.

But some motivating factor had kept him alive. Like a computer chip, something minute but active, buried deep inside his consciousness, had seen to it that he went on living. Now, he knew why. TexTile. He was meant to build this plant. He believed that with every fiber of his being.

"So, I've got to complete it. I've got to prove to myself that I can stick it out to the bitter end. Understand?" Loner whined and dropped his head onto Dillon's thigh. "Yeah, I know. Life's a bitch."

He hadn't wanted to grow attached to the dog, yet here he was with a lump in his throat because the stupid mutt was glad to have him home. He hadn't wanted to like the boy, either, but Graham was exactly the kind of kid he would have wanted Charlie to be. He was inquisitive, bright, friendly, and was just mischievous enough to keep him from being a nerd.

"How's Graham been doing?" he asked Loner. "Seen him around much? Maybe next time I go out of town for any length of time, I'll ask him to give you your weekly bath." Loner flopped his tail from one side of his rump to



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the other in half-hearted approval of the idea. He wasn't crazy about baths. "I could offer to give him a few bucks. Boys his age always need spending money."

Before he left, Jade had apologized for Graham's hanging around the site. She thought the boy had made a nuisance of himself by getting in Dillon's way and asking questions. Actually, he was flattered whenever Graham tagged along beside him. His questions and observations were sometimes humorous, other times astute. In spite of himself, he looked forward to seeing Graham again.

He had avoided thinking about it during the six-hour drive, but now, when he was only a few minutes away from his destination, he felt compelled to acknowledge the real reason for his rush to get back: he was eager to see Jade.

He had a lot to report, of course. And he was sure there was a lot she would need to fill him in on. Things that had happened while he was away would have to be discussed.

But was business the only reason he wanted to see her? He hoped to God it was, because any other reason was disloyal to Debra and just plain stupid. He should have picked up a woman while he was out of town. If he had taken a warm, willing woman to bed, maybe he wouldn't be so edgy. Maybe he wouldn't be looking so forward to seeing Jade. Maybe his cock wouldn't be hard with just the memory of how she had looked standing against a rising thunderstorm.

He wheeled the pickup into the gravel track leading to his trailer. Loner, sensing that he was home, stood up in the seat and shook himself from nose to tail. Dillon chuckled, but his laughter broke off when he saw the light on inside the portable building and Jade's Cherokee parked out front.

"What the hell is she doing out here at this time of night?" He parked the pickup and got out. Loner slipped past him and headed for his water dish. Dillon tried the door of the office. It was locked. .

"Jade?" He removed his key from his jeans pocket and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open silently



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Her head lay on top of her desk; she was asleep. Dillon tiptoed forward. "Jade?"

She didn't stir. Her head was pillowed on her extended arm. His eyes were drawn down to her hand. She had very slender fingers. Her hand was delicate and, in repose, fragile-looking. Her hair was a riot of wavy disarray, spilling across her arm and the paperwork she had fallen asleep over. It was inky black, the perfect complement to her fair complexion.

There was a faint blush on the cheek that was turned up. Her eyebrow was as smooth and glossy as one painted onto a china doll. She was deeply asleep. She breathed through slightly parted lips.

Dillon's desire to touch her was a visceral ache.

He debated with himself on what he should do. She wouldn't welcome being found in such a vulnerable position. It would be awkward for them both and might affect their working relationship, which he didn't want to jeopardize under any circumstances. She obviously wasn't in any discomfort.

All things considered, it would be best to leave her as she was. If she woke up and noticed that he was back, she could come to his trailer and initiate a conversation if she wanted to. Otherwise, they would see each other first thing in the morning. He saw no reason for the lamp to be shining full on her face, however, and leaned across the desk to switch it off.

The instant the office went dark, she woke up.

"No!" She shot out of her chair, nearly knocking heads with him.

"Jade, it's me."

"Don't touch me." She fumbled with the items strewn across her desk.

"What are you doing?"

"If you touch me, I'll kill you."

Dillon, bewildered by her violent reaction, looked down at her outstretched hands and saw the cold glint of metal. "Jade," he said calmly, "it's me, Dillon." He reached for the lamp switch.