Higher Than Eagles (Donovans of the Delta) Read Free Page A

in danger. You seemed bound and determined to get yourself killed, one way or the other—in one of your damned fast planes or in some godforsaken part of the world fighting an oil field fire. I couldn’t go through that again.”
    “I think we’ve had this conversation before. Are you going to let your mother’s untimely death rule your emotions for the rest of your life?”
    “Untimely death!” She stabbed the air with her finger for emphasis. “Hers was a foolhardy death, one that never would have happened if she hadn’t been taking dumb risks in that air show, flying that old World War One plane with no more thought than she would have had flying a kite.”
    “And so you wrote me a Dear John letter because of your mother.” His face was unreadable as he strode across the small space. “I don’t believe it, Rachel. We’d fought over my profession before. It was a difference we could have worked out.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “What happened while I was gone? What sent you running to Bob Devlin’s bed?”
    Jacob was a worthy opponent, but Rachel was more than a match for him. She’d be darned if she’d be rattled by Jacob Donovan. And she certainly had no intention of ever telling him the truth.
    Her eyes flashed fire as she squared off with him. “Love. Is that what you want me to say, Jacob? That I loved him?”
    “Did you?”
    “Yes . . . I loved him.” She felt no triumph at the pain she saw in Jacob’s eyes. But she’d endured pain too. Six years of it. And guilt, besides. But it was a small price to pay for sanity. She looked straight into Jacob’s eyes and sent home the last barb. “He was always there for me—and he was damned good in bed.”
    Jacob loosened his grip. He began slowly caressing her bare shoulders. She felt his power, his turmoil, and his tremendous magnetism.
    She toughened her mind even as her body began to go slack in his hands.
    “You’d have me believe you couldn’t wait to climb into another man’s bed.” His hands continued their massage. Every nerve in her body was screaming. “After all we’d been to each other, all the promises we’d made, you want me to think you changed your mind and fell in love with somebody else—in two months time.”
    Suddenly, the caressing stopped. Jacob released her and stepped back. “I don’t believe you, Rachel.”
    She crossed her arms in front of her and gripped her own shoulders. They were still warm and tingling from his touch.
    “Let it go, Jacob,” she whispered. “Please, just let it go.”
    “I’ll never let it go until I learn the truth.” He turned and quickly left the room.
    The sudden silence thundered around her. It would have been so easy, she thought, just to give in to him. But she had her son’s future to consider.
    “Never,” she whispered fiercely. “You’ll never learn the truth.”
    Only three people knew, and one of them was dead.

 
     
    CHAPTER TWO
    Jacob found her house on Wednesday afternoon.
    It was the kind of house he’d always imagined Rachel would live in. The tall white columns and wide verandas were cool and elegant, just like their owner. Huge live oaks, draped with Spanish moss, guarded the front lawn, and a white fence protected the house from the busy boulevard that faced the gulf.
    Rachel, in white shorts and halter top, was kneeling beside a bed of bright red petunias.
    He stood at the gate, enjoying a stolen moment of watching her unobserved. Her legs were as long and luscious as he remembered, the here-to-eternity legs of a tall woman. And her skin was that special honey hue of blondes who spend just enough time outside to let the sun kiss them.
    Jacob found himself getting nostalgic, remembering the good times they’d had. He remembered the exact texture of that golden skin, soft and satiny with an underlying firmness. He remembered how her eyes would darken from spring green to jade when he touched her.
    Impatiently, he rammed his fists into his pockets. If