chapter
4
BRIAN PHILLIPS WAS FLIPPING pancakes in the kitchen when Jessica entered the room with Tara and Trevor early the next evening. She grinned at him in greeting. “Brian! How wonderful to see you again!”
Brian spun around, and missed a pancake as it came flying down to splat on the counter. “Jessica!” He swooped her up, hugged her hard. He was a big man, the drummer for HereAfter. She had forgotten how strong he was until he nearly broke her ribs with his hard, good-natured squeeze. With his reddish hair and stocky body, he always had reminded Jessica of a boxer fresh from Ireland. At times she even heard the lilt in his voice. “My God, girl, you look beautiful. How long has it been?” There was a moment of silence as both of them remembered the last time they had seen one another.
Jessica resolutely forced a smile. “Brian, you must remember Tara and Trevor, Dillon’s children. We were so exhausted we slept the day away. I see you’re serving breakfast for dinner.” She was still in the circle of Brian’s arms as she turned to include the twins in the greeting. Her smile faltered as she met a pair of ice-cold eyes over the heads of the children.
Dillon lounged in the doorway, his body posture deceptively lazy and casual. His eyes were intent, watchful, focused on her, and there was a hint of something dangerous to the edge of his mouth. Jessica’s green gaze locked with his. Her breathing was instantly impaired, her breath catching in her lungs. He had that effect on her. Dillon was wearing faded blue jeans, a long-sleeved turtleneck shirt and thin leather gloves. He looked unmercifully handsome. His hair was damp from his shower and he was barefoot. She had forgotten that about him, how he liked to be without shoes in the house. Butterfly wings fluttered in the pit of her stomach. “Dillon.”
Jessica ripped out his heart, whatever heart he had left, with her mere presence in his home. Dillon could hardly bear to look at her, to see her beauty, to see the woman she had become. Her hair was a blend of red and gold silk, falling around her face. A man could lose himself in her eyes. And her mouth . . . If Brian didn’t take his hands off of her very, very soon Dillon feared he might give in to the terrible violence that always seemed to be swirling so close to the surface. Her green eyes met his across the room and she murmured his name again. Softly. Barely audible, yet the way she whispered his name tightened every muscle in his body.
The twins whirled around, Tara reaching out to take Trevor’s arm for support as she faced her father.
Dillon’s gaze reluctantly left Jessica’s face to move broodingly over the twins. He didn’t smile, didn’t change expression. “Trevor and Tara, you’ve certainly grown.” A muscle jerked along his jaw but otherwise he gave no indication of the emotions he was feeling. He wasn’t certain he could do this, look at them, see the look in their eyes, face up to his past failures, face the utter and total revulsion that he had seen in Tara’s eyes the night before.
Trevor’s gaze flickered uncertainly toward Jessica before he stepped forward, thrusting out his hand toward his father. “It’s good to see you, sir.”
Jessica watched Dillon closely, willing him to pull his son into a hug. To at least smile at the boy. Instead, he shook hands briefly. “It’s good to see you, too. I understand you’re here to celebrate Christmas with me.” Dillon glanced at Tara. “I guess that means you’ll be wanting a tree.”
Tara smiled shyly. “It’s sort of an accepted practice.”
He nodded. “I can’t remember the last time I celebrated Christmas. I’m a little rusty when it comes to holiday festivities.” His gaze had strayed back to Jessica and he silently damned himself for his lack of control.
“Tara will make sure you remember every little detail about Christmas,” Trevor said with a laugh, nudging his sister, “it’s her favorite holiday.”
“I’ll count on you, then, Tara,” Dillon said with his customary charm, still watching Jessica intently. A smile slipped out. Menacing. Threatening. “If you can manage to take your hands off Jess, Brian, maybe we can all share those pancakes.” There was a distinct edge to his voice. “We keep strange hours here, especially now that we’re recording. I prefer to work at night and sleep during the day.”
Tara glanced at her brother and mouthed, “Vampire.”
Trevor grinned at her, covering for his twin with a diversion. “I take it we get pancakes for dinner.”
“You’ll grow to love them,” Brian assured. He laughed heartily and squeezed Jessica’s shoulders quickly before dropping his arms. “She’s turned into a real beauty, Dillon.” He leered at Jessica. “I don’t know if I mentioned to you or not, that I’m recently divorced.”
“Ever the lady’s man,” Jessica patted his cheek, determined not to let Dillon shake her confidence. “What was that, your third or fourth wife?”
“Oh the pain of the arrows you sling, Jessica girl,” Brian clutched his heart and winked at Trevor. “She never lets anything slip by, I’ll bet.”
Trevor grinned at him, wide and engaging, that famous Wentworth smile that Jessica knew so well. “Not a single thing, so be careful around her,” he cautioned. “I’m a fairly good cook. I can help you with the pancakes. Don’t let Jessie, even if she offers. The mere thought of her cooking anything is scary.” He shuddered dramatically.
Jessica rolled her eyes. “He should be in acting.” She was aware of Tara inching closer to her for comfort, aware of the tension in the room despite the banter. Trying to ignore Dillon, she drew the child to her and hugged her encouragingly as her father should have done. “Trevor turns traitor when he’s in the company of other men, have you noticed?”
“I’m stating a fact,” Trevor denied. “She sets the popcorn on fire in the microwave whenever we let her pop it.”
“It’s not my fault the popcorn behaves unpredictably when it’s my turn to pop it,” Jessica pointed out.
She stole a glance at Dillon. He was watching her intently, just as she suspected he was. When she inhaled, she took his clean, masculine scent into her lungs. He dominated the room simply by standing there, wrapped in his silence. Awareness spread through her body, an unfamiliar heat that thickened her blood and left her strangely restless.
“Can anyone join in the fun?”
The blood drained out of Jessica’s face. She felt it, felt herself go pale as she turned slowly to face that strident voice. Vivian’s voice. The woman was tall and model thin. Platinum blond hair was swept up onto her head and she wore scarlet lipstick. Jessica noticed her long nails were polished the exact same shade. Jessica swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and looked to Dillon for help.
“Brenda.” Dillon said the woman’s name deliberately, needing to wipe the fear out of Jessica’s eyes. “Jess, I don’t believe you ever had the chance to meet Vivian’s sister. Brenda, this is Jessica Fitzpatrick and these are my children, Trevor and Tara.”
The twins looked at one another and then at Jessica. Trevor put his arm around Tara. “We have an aunt, Jessie?”
“Apparently,” Jessica said, her gaze on Dillon. She had never seen Brenda in her life. She had a vague recollection of someone mentioning her, but Brenda certainly had never come to see the children.
“Of course I’m your aunt,” Brenda announced, waving her hand airily. “But I travel quite a bit and just haven’t gotten around to visiting. No pancakes for me, Brian, just coffee.” She walked across the kitchen and threw herself into a chair as if she were exhausted. “I had no idea the little darlings were coming, Dillon.” She blew him a kiss. “You should have told me. They certainly take after you, don’t they?”
“Must have been a lot of traveling,” Trevor muttered, leaning into Jessica. He quirked an eyebrow at her, half amused, half annoyed, in a way that was very reminiscent of his father.
Jessica felt Tara tremble and immediately brushed the top of her head with a kiss. “It isn’t quite dark yet, honey, would you like to go for a short walk? The storm’s passed over us and it would be fun to show you how beautiful the island is.”
“Don’t leave on my account,” Brenda said, “I don’t get along with kiddies. I make no apologies for it. I need coffee, for heaven’s sake, can’t one of you manage to bring me a cup?” Her voice rose, a familiar pitch that was etched for all time in Jessica’s memory. “Robert, the lazy slug, is still in bed.” She yawned and leveled her gaze at Dillon. “You’ve turned us all around so we don’t know whether it’s morning or night anymore. My poor husband can’t get out of bed.”
“Are you here for Christmas?” Trevor ventured, uncertain what to say, but instinctively wanting to find a way to smooth out the situation.
“Christmas?” It was Brian who answered derisively. “Brenda doesn’t know what Christmas is, besides a day she expects to be showered with gifts. She’s here for more money, aren’t you, my dear? She’s gone through Robert’s money and the insurance money, so she dropped by with her hand out.”
“So true,” Brenda shrugged her shoulders, unconcerned with Brian’s harsh assessment of her. “Money is the bane of all existence.”
“She has an insurance policy on everyone, don’t you, Brenda,” Brian accused. “Me, Dillon,” he indicated the twins with his jaw, his eyes glittering at her, “the kids. Poor Robert is probably worth far more dead than alive. What do you have on him, a cool million?”
Brenda raised one eyebrow, blew another kiss at him. “Of course, darling, it’s just good sense. I figured you’d go first with your horrendous driving abilities, but, alas, no luck so far.”
Brian glared at her. “You’re a cold woman, Brenda.”
“You didn’t used to think so, babe.”
Jessica stared at her. Insurance policy on the kids. On Dillon. She didn’t dare look at Dillon, he would know exactly the suspicion going through her mind.
Brenda gave a tinkling laugh. “Don’t look so shocked, Jessica, dear. Brian and I are old friends. It ended badly and he can’t forgive me.” She inspected her long nails. “He actually adores me and still wants me. I adore him, but choosing Robert was a good decision. He balances me.” She lifted her head, moaning pathetically, her eyes pleading. “I could kill for a cup of coffee.”
Jessica turned over the information in her mind. Insurance money. It had never occurred to her that someone other than Dillon or the children might have profited monetarily from Vivian’s death. She remembered her mother talking about it with Dillon’s lawyer after the fire. The lawyer had said it was good that Dillon didn’t have a policy on his wife because an insurance policy was often considered a reason for murder.
Reason for murder. Could an insurance policy on Tara’s and Trevor’s lives be the motive behind the accidents? Jessica looked at Brenda, trying to see past her perfect makeup to the woman beneath.
“How could you have an insurance policy on Vivian, Brenda?” Jessica asked curiously. “Or on Brian or Dillon or the twins? That’s not legal.”
“Oh please,” Brenda waved her hand, “I’m dying for coffee and you want to talk legalities. Fine, a little lesson, kiddies, in grown-up reality. Viv and I went together to get insurance on each other years ago. With consent it can be done. Dillon gave his consent,” she blew him another kiss, “because we’re family. Brian gave consent when we were together and Robert’s my husband, so of course I have insurance on him.”
“And you’re so good at persuading people to let you have those policies, aren’t you, Brenda,” Brian snapped.
“Of course I am,” Brenda smiled at him, in no way perturbed by his accusations. “You’re becoming so tedious with your jealousy. Really, darling, you need help.”
“You’re going broke paying your insurance premiums,” Brian sniped.
Brenda shrugged and waved airily. “I just call Dillon and he pays them for me. Now, stop being so mean, Brian, and bring me coffee; it won’t hurt you to be nice for a change,” Brenda wheedled, slumping dramatically over the table.
“Yes, it would,” he said stubbornly. “Doing anything for you is bad karma.”
“But how would you manage to take out a policy on the twins?” The very idea of it repulsed Jessica.
Brenda didn’t lift her head from the tabletop. “My sister and Dillon gave me permission of course. I’m not talking anymore, without coffee! I’m fading here, people.”
Jessica glared accusingly at Dillon across the room. He flashed a heart-stopping rather sheepish smile and shrugged his broad shoulders. Brenda groaned loudly. Jessica gave in. It was clear that Brian wasn’t going to get Vivian a cup of coffee and Dillon looked unconcerned. She found the mugs in a cupboard and did the honors. “Cream or sugar?”
“You don’t have to do that, Jess,” Dillon snapped suddenly, his mouth tightening ominously. “Brenda, get your own damn coffee.”
“It’s no big deal.” Jessica handed the cup to Brenda.
“Thank you, my dear, you are a true lifesaver.” Her eyes wandered over Jessica’s figure, an indifferent, blasé appraisal, then she turned her attention to Tara. “You look nothing like your mother, but fortunately you inherited Dillon’s good looks. It should take you far in life.”
“Tara is at the top of her class,” Jessica informed the woman, “her brains are going to take her far in life.”
Trevor wolfed down a pancake without syrup. “Watch yourself now, Jessica’s got that militant look in her eye.” His voice changed, a perfect mimic of Jessica’s. “School is important and if you mess around thinking you can get by on good looks or charm, or think you’re going to make it big in the arts, think again buddy, you’re going nowhere if you don’t have a decent education.” He grinned at them. “Word for word, I swear, you opened a can a worms.”
“Looks have gotten me what I want in life,” Brenda muttered into her coffee cup.
“Maybe you weren’t aspiring high enough,” Jessica said, looking Brenda in the eye.
Brenda shuddered, surrendering. “I don’t have the energy for this conversation. I told you I wasn’t good with kiddies or animals.”
“Tara,” Jessica said, as she handed the girl a plate of pancakes, “you are the kiddie and that brother of yours is the animal.”
Trevor grinned at her. “Too true, and all the girls know it.”
Dillon watched them bantering back and forth so easily. His children. His Jessica. They were a family, basking in each other’s love. He was the outsider. The circle was tight, the bond strong between the three of them. He watched the expressions chasing across Jessica’s face as she snapped a tea towel at Trevor, laughing at him, teasing him. The way it should have been. The way it was supposed to be.
Jessica was aware of Dillon every moment that they stayed in the same room. Her wayward gaze kept straying to him. Her pulse raced and he affected her breathing. It was aggravating and made her feel like a teenager with a crush. “We want to go for that walk before it gets dark, don’t we, Tara?” Now she wanted to escape. Needed to escape. She couldn’t stay in the same room with him much longer.
“The grounds haven’t been kept up, Jess,” Dillon informed her. “It might be better if you amuse yourselves inside while we work.”
Her eyebrow shot up. “Amuse ourselves?” She ignored Trevor’s little warning nudge. “What did you have in mind? Playing hopscotch in the hall?”
Dillon looked at his son’s face, the quick, appreciative grin the boy couldn’t hide fast enough. Something warm stirred in him that he didn’t want to think about or examine too closely. “Hopscotch is fine, Jess, as long as you draw the boxes with something we can erase easily.” He said it blandly, watching the boy’s reaction.
Trevor threw his head back and laughed. Brian joined in. Even Brenda managed a faint smile, more, Jessica suspected, because Trevor’s laugh was infectious than because Brenda found anything humorous in Dillon’s reply.
Jessica didn’t want to look up and see Dillon smiling but she couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t want to notice the way his face lit up, or that his eyes were so blue. Or that his mouth was perfectly sculpted. Kissable. She nearly groaned, blushing faintly at the wild thought. The memory of his lips, velvet soft, yet firm, pressing against hers was all too vivid in her mind.
She had to say something, the twins would expect her to hold her own in a verbal sparring match, but she couldn’t think, not when his blue eyes were laughing at her. Really laughing at her. For one brief moment, he looked happy, the terrible weight off his shoulders. Jessica glanced at the twins. They were observing her hopefully. She took a deep breath and deliberately leaned close to Dillon, close enough that she could feel electricity arcing between them. She put her mouth against Dillon’s ear so that he could feel the softness of her lips as she spoke. “You cheat, Dillon.” She whispered the three words, allowing her warm breath to play over his neck, heat his skin. To make him as aware of her as she was of him.
It was a silly, dangerous thing to do, and the moment she did it, she knew she’d made a mistake. The air stilled, the world receded until there was only the two of them. Desire flared in the depths of his eyes, burning hot, immediate. He shifted, a subtle movement but it brought his body in contact with hers. Hunger pulsed between them, deep, elemental, so strong it was nearly tangible. He bent his dark head to hers.
No one breathed. No one moved. Jessica stared into the deep blue of his eyes, mesmerized, held captive there, his perfect mouth only a scant inch from hers. “I play to win,” he murmured softly, for her ears alone.
The sound of a creaking chair, as someone shifted restlessly, broke the enchantment. Jessica blinked, came out of her trance, and hastily stepped away from the beckoning heat of Dillon’s body, from the magnetic pull of his sexual web. She didn’t dare look at either of the children. Her heart was doing strange somersaults and the butterflies were having a field day in the pit of her stomach.
Dillon ran his gloved hand down the length of her hair in a gentle caress. “Were you and the children comfortable last night?”
Tara and Trevor looked at each other, then at Jessica. “Very comfortable,” they said in unison.
Jessica was too wrapped up in the sound of his voice to answer. There was that smoky quality to it, the black velvet that was so sexy, but it was so much more. Sometimes the gentleness, the tenderness that came out of nowhere threw her completely off balance. Dillon was a mixture of old and new to her, and she was desperately trying to feel her way with him.
“That’s good. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to say so,” Dillon poured the rest of his coffee down the sink and rinsed the cup out. “We’re all pitching in with the chores as the housekeeping staff is gone on vacation this month. So I’ll expect you kids to do the same. Just clean up after yourselves. You can have the run of the house with the exception of the rooms where the others are staying, my private rooms and the studio. That’s invitation only.” He leaned his back against the sink and pinned the twins with his brilliant gaze. “We keep odd hours and if you get up before late afternoon, please keep quiet because most of us will be sleeping. The band is here to try recording some music, just to see what we can come up with. If it works, we hope to have a product to pitch again to one of the labels. It requires a great deal of time and effort on our part. We’re working, not playing.”
Trevor nodded. “We understand, we won’t get in the way.”
“If you’re interested, you can watch later, after we’ve worked out a few kinks. I’m heading to the studio now, so if you need anything, say so now.”
“We’ll be fine,” Trevor said. “Getting up at four or five o’clock in the afternoon and staying up all night is an experience in itself!” His white teeth flashed, an engaging smile, showing all the promise of his father’s charisma. “Don’t worry about us, Jess will keep us in line.”
Dillon’s blue gaze flicked to Jessica. Drank her in. She made his kitchen seem a home. He had forgotten that feeling. Forgotten what it was like to wake up and look forward to getting out of bed. He heard the murmur of voices around him, heard Robert Berg and Don Ford laughing in the hall as they made their way together to the kitchen. It was all so familiar yet completely different.
“Well, we have a houseful.” Robert Berg, the keyboard player for the band, entered and crossed the kitchen to plant a kiss on the nape of Brenda’s neck. Robert was short and compact with dark thinning hair and a small trim goatee gracing his chin. “This can’t be the twins, they’re all grown up.”
Trevor nodded solemnly. “That happens to people. An unusual phenomenon. Time goes by and we just get older. I’m Trevor.” He held out his hand.
“With the smart mouth,” Jessica supplied, frowning at the boy as he shook hands with Robert. “Good to see you again, it has been a while.” She dropped her hands onto Tara’s shoulders. “This is Tara.”
Robert smiled at the girl, saluted her as he snagged a plate and piled it high with pancakes. “Brian’s been doing the cooking, Jessica, but maybe now that you’re here we can have something besides pancakes.”
Trevor choked, went into a coughing fit and Tara burst out laughing. Dillon’s heart turned over as he watched Jessica tug gently on Tara’s hair, then mock strangle Trevor. The three of them were so easy with one another, playfully teasing, sharing a close camaraderie he had always wanted, but had never found. He had been so desperate for a home, for a family, and now when it was in front of him, when he knew what was important, what it was all about, it was too late for him.
“Men are the supreme chefs of the world,” Jessica replied haughtily, “why would I want to infringe on their domain?”
“Here, here,” Brenda applauded. “Well said.”
“You coming, Brian.” Dillon made it a command, not a question. “I’ll expect the rest of you in ten minutes and someone get Paul up.”
There was a small silence after Dillon left. It had always been that way, he dominated a room with his presence, the passion and energy in it had flowed from him. Now that he was gone there seemed to be a void.
Don Ford hurried in, his short brown hair spiked and tipped with blond and his clothes the latest fashion. “Had to get in my morning smoke. Dillon won’t let us smoke in the house. Man, it’s cold out there tonight.” He shivered, rubbing his hands together for warmth as he looked around and caught sight of the twins and Jessica. He shoved small wire rim glasses on his nose to peer at them. “Whoa! You weren’t here when I went to bed or I’m giving up liquor for all time.”
“We snuck in when you weren’t looking,” Jessica admitted with a smile. She accepted his kiss and made the introductions.
“Am I the last one up?”
“That would be Paul,” Robert said, shoving cream and sugar across the counter toward Don.
Paul sauntered in, bent to kiss Jessica’s cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he greeted. “I’m here, I’m awake, you can cancel the firing squad.” He winked at Tara. “Have you already made plans to go hunting for the perfect Christmas tree? We won’t have time to go hunting one on the mainland so we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way and chop one down.”
Brenda yawned. “I hate the sound of that. What a mess. There might be bugs, Paul. You aren’t really going to get one from the wilds, are you?”
Tara looked alarmed. “We are going to have a Christmas tree, aren’t we, Jessica?”
“Jessica doesn’t have a say in the matter,” Robert pointed out, “Dillon does. It’s his house and we’re here to work, not play. Brenda’s right, a tree from out there,” he said, gesturing toward the window, “would have bugs and it would be utterly unsanitary. Not to mention a fire hazard.”
Tara flinched visibly. Trevor stood up, squared his shoulders and walked straight over to Robert. “I don’t think you needed to say that to my sister. And I don’t like the way you said Jessica’s name.”
Jessica gently rested her hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Robert, that was uncalled for. None of us need reminders of the fire, we were all here when it happened.” She tugged on Trevor’s resistant body urging him away from Robert. “Tara, of course you’ll have a tree. Your father has already agreed to one. We can’t very well have Christmas without one.”
Brenda sighed as she stood up. “As long as I’m not the one dealing with all of those needles that will fall off it. You need such energy to cope with the kiddies. I’m glad it’s you and not me, dear. I’m off to the studio. Robert, are you coming?”
Robert obediently followed her out without looking at any of them. Don drained his coffee cup, rinsed it carefully and waved to them. “Duty calls.”
“I’m sorry about that, Jessie,” Paul said. “Robert lives in his own little world. Brenda goes through money like water. Everything they had is gone. Dillon was the only one of us who was smart. He invested his share and tripled his money. The royalties on his songs keep pouring in. And because he had the kids he carried medical and fire insurance and all those grown-up things the rest of us didn’t think about. The worst of it is, he tried to get us to do the same but we wouldn’t listen to him. Robert needs this album to come about. If Dillon composes it and sings and produces it, you know it will go straight to the top. Robert is between a rock and hard place. Without money, he can’t keep Brenda, and he loves her.” Paul shrugged and ruffled Tara’s hair. “Don’t let them ruin your Christmas, Tara.”
“Whose idea was it to put the band back together?” Jessica asked. “I had the impression that Dillon wanted to do this, that it was his idea.”
Paul shook his head. “Not a chance. He’s always composing, music lives in him, he hears it in his head all the time, but up until last week, he hadn’t worked with anyone but me since the fire. He can’t play instruments any more. Well, he plays, but not anything like he used to play. He doesn’t have the dexterity, although he tries when he’s alone. It’s too painful for him. I think Robert talked to the others first and then they all came to me to see what I thought. I think they believed I could persuade him.” His dark eyes held a hint of worry. “I hope I did the right thing. He’s doing it for the others, you know, hoping to make them some money. That was the pitch I used and it worked. He wouldn’t have done it for himself, but he’s always felt responsible for the others. I thought it might be good for him but now, I don’t know. If he fails . . .”
“He won’t fail,” Jessica said. “We’ll clean up in here. You’d better go.”
“Thanks, Jess,” he bent and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re all here.”
Trevor grinned at her the moment they were alone. “You’re getting kissed a lot, Jess. I was thinking there for a few minutes when you were . . . er . . . talking with my dad, I might even get my first lesson in sex education.” He took off running as Jessica madly snapped a tea towel at him. His taunting laughter floated back to her from up the stairs.