The Redemption of Jefferson Cade Read online

  "What Could This Be?"

  Jefferson Murmured.

  The last envelope bore a name. His name, written in a hand he knew. For one stunned moment Jefferson thought it was a cruel hoax. When he drew out two sheets of paper, he knew it wasn't. The first was newspaper. The second a plain white sheet torn raggedly from a tablet. One line was written across the sheet in the same familiar hand.

  Catching an unsteady breath, Jefferson read the written words out loud. His own words, spoken just once, long ago.

  If you ever need me...

  A promise to keep. A promise only Marissa would know.

  "I'll come for you," he finished.

  Marissa was alive. Given the subterfuge of the message, she was in danger. She needed help. She needed Jefferson Cade.

  Dear Reader,

  Ring in the New Year with the hottest new love stories from Silhouette Desire! The Redemption of Jefferson Cade by BJ James is our MAN OF THE MONTH. In this latest installment of MEN OF BELLE TERRE, the youngest Cade overcomes both external and internal obstacles to regain his lost love. And be sure to read the launch book in Desire's first yearlong continuity series, DYNASTIES: THE CONNELLYS. In Tall, Dark & Royal, bestselling author Leanne Banks introduces a prominent Chicago family linked to European royals.

  Anne Marie Winston offers another winner with Billionaire Bachelors: Ryan, a BABY BANK story featuring twin babies. In The Tycoon's Temptation by Katherine Garbera, a jaded billionaire discovers the greater rewards of love, while Kristi Gold's Dr. Dangerous discovers he's addicted to a certain physical therapist's personal approach to healing in this launch book of Kristi's MARRYING AN M.D. miniseries. And Metsy Hingle bring us Navy SEAL Dad, a BACHELORS & BABIES story.

  Start the year off right by savoring all six of these passionate, powerful and provocative romances from Silhouette Desire!

  Enjoy!

  Joan Marlow Golan

  Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

  Please address questions and book requests to: Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont L2A 5X3

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."

  SILHOUETTE BOOKS

  ISBN 0-373-76411-1

  THE REDEMPTION OF JEFFERSON CADE

  Copyright © 2002 by BJ James

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  Visit Silhouette at www.eHarlequin.com

  Printed in U.S.A.

  Books by BJ James

  Silhouette Desire Silhouette Intimate Moments

  The Sound of Goodbye #332 Broken Spurs #733

  Twice in a Lifetime #396

  Shiloh 's Promise #529 Silhouette Books

  Winter Morning #595 Worlds Most Eligible Bachelors

  Slade's Woman #672

  A Step Away #692

  Tears of the Rose #709 *Men of the Black Watch

  The Man with the + The Black Watch

  Midnight Eyes #751 #Men of Belle Terre

  Pride and Promises #789

  Another Time, Another Place #823

  The Hand of an Angel #844

  *Heart of the Hunter #945

  *The Saint of Bourbon Street #951

  *A Wolf in the Desert #956

  + Whispers in the Dark #1081

  +Journey's End #1106

  +Night Music #1286

  #The Return of Adams Cade #1309

  #A Season for Love #1335

  #A Lady for Lincoln Cade #1369

  #The Taming of Jackson Cade #1393

  #The Redemption of Jefferson Cade #1411

  BJ JAMES'

  first book for Silhouette Desire was published in February 1987. Her second Desire novel garnered for BJ a second Maggie, the coveted award of the Georgia Romance Writers. Through the years there have been other awards and nominations for awards, including, from Romantic Times Magazine, Reviewer's Choice, Career Achievement, Best Desire and Best Series Romance of the Year. In that time, her books have appeared regularly on a number of bestseller lists, among them Waldenbooks and USA Today. On a personal note, BJ and her physician husband have three sons and two grandsons. While her address reads Mooreboro, this is only the origin of a mail route passing through the countryside. A small village set in the foothills of western North Carolina is her home.

  Foreword

  In the coastal Lowcountry of South Carolina, where the fresh waters of winding rivers flow into the sea, there is an Eden of unmatched wonders. In this mix of waters and along the shores by which they carve their paths, life is rich and varied. The land is one of uncommon contrasts, with sandy, sea-swept beaches, mysterious swamps, teeming marshes bounded by ancient maritime forests. And a multitude of creatures abide in each.

  In this realm of palms and palmettos, estuaries and rivers, shaded by towering live oaks draped in ghostly Spanish moss, lies Belle Terre. Like an exquisite pearl set among emeralds and sapphires, with its name the small antebellum city describes its province. As it describes itself.

  Belle Terre, beautiful land. A beautiful city.

  A very proper, very elegant, beautiful city. A gift for the soul. An exquisite melange for the senses. With ancient and grand structures in varying states of repair and disrepair set along tree-lined, cobbled streets. With narrow, gated gardens lush with such greenery as resurrection and cinnamon ferns. And all of it wrapped in the lingering scent of camellias, azaleas, jessamine and magnolias.

  Steeped in an aura of history, its culture and customs influenced by plantations that once abounded in the Lowcountry, as it clings to its past, Belle Terre is a province of contradictions.Within its society one will find arrogance abiding with humility, cruelty with kindness, insolence with gentility, honor with depravity, and hatred with love.

  As ever when the senses are whetted and emotions untamed, in Belle Terre there will be passion, romance, and scandal.

  Prologue

  The wilderness was his sanctuary. As a boy he'd come in search of solace. As a man he came for peace.

  From his vantage among the trees, Jefferson Cade looked over a swampy Eden. A land few knew as he knew it. The land of his heart. One of strange, erratic temperament, as now. For even as he waited, its mood altered. Dormant air grew sultry. Moisture permeated each breath and burnished all it touched in a heated mist. The day, and the hideaway Lucked among the limbs of the moss strewn tree, were held in the thrall of a lowcountry summer.

  Far below the tree house, at the edge of a pond, a fish jumped, startling a fawn just dipping his head to drink. Jefferson smiled as the tiny creature danced away. A smile that
vanished as he glimpsed the woman half hidden in the shadow of a palmetto.

  Caught by her stillness, he waited. As she watched the fawn, he saw how much she'd changed, yet remained the same. When she'd first come from Argentina to live, to study, and absorb the graces still surviving in the quaint city of Belle Terre, she'd been a girl on the verge of wom­anhood. Now the tomboy who hunted, fished, and handled horses as well as any man, had indeed become a beautiful woman. And his best friend.

  "Marissa." She couldn't have heard, yet her eyes lifted to his. And, as she came to him, he whispered, "Marissa Claire."

  A half hour of silence later, Jefferson abandoned his pen and sketch pad. Moving to Marissa's side he sat on the tree house floor, wondering what trouble had drawn her to him.

  This meeting had begun strangely. After a subdued greet­ing and a strained smile, she'd barely spoken. Conversation had never been necessary between them. Yet now her si­lence was unbearable.

  Leaning on an elbow, he stared down at a beguiling woman who lay as if she were sleeping. But he knew her body language too well not to read the wakeful tension. As patience deserted him, he tugged a stray curl. "Hey, lazy­bones, want to go fishing?"

  Reluctantly her dark gaze met his. Knowing the time for! pretense was past, but not ready to speak, she looked away.

  Jefferson had never seen her so distant. It was rare that she would call him at midday asking that he meet her here. Rare that she barely greeted him then withdrew. Something was wrong. "What is it, Marissa? Why did you ask me to come here?"

  When her reply was only a shrug, he lapsed again into silent contemplation. She was Marissa Claire Alexandra. Merrie to all but him, for whom the name hadn't fit. An inexplicable perception he couldn't explain to any but him­self.

  Four years before, she'd come to Belle Terre. Sent from the Alexandre estancia by a father determined to tame his daredevil daughter. Guided by Eden Cade, Marissa was to learn the ways of Southern ladies. Lessons she'd mastered perfectly, yet never lost her love of country life, or her passion for horses.

  In the beginning their friendship was based on mutual admiration of their unique skill with horses. From that be­ginning came a deepening of common interests. As good friends became confidants, it was to him she turned in happy or troubled times.

  But Marissa was only twenty-one, eight years younger than he. A disparity he never forgot, even as the remarkable girl became a remarkable woman—and Jefferson Cade, once forever immune, had fallen deeply in love with her. Deeply but in vain. In denial of all he felt, he survived by reminding himself the woman within the alluring body loved him as a friend.

  Too soon even that would be taken from him. From the first, the plan was clear. Marissa would spend five years in her mother's homeland. Then she was to return to Argen­tina to honor obligations she neither explained nor dis­cussed. Jefferson had learned to live with the inevitable. Time in hand was too precious to waste agonizing over the time to come. And if friendship was all he could have, he would be a friend in every need.

  Besieged by desire, but setting the sorrow of it aside, he turned her face to him. "Hey," he questioned as he saw tears in her dark eyes. "What is it, sweetheart? How can I help?"

  Marissa stared up at him, memorizing each handsome feature. She knew Jefferson had never understood the cha­risma of his smile, the power of his kindness. In all their years of friendship, he hadn't known of her dual dilemma. When he'd urged her to spend more time with classmates and teased that she would never find her Prince Charming in the wilds with him, he didn't understand she was prom­ised to a much older man.

  A promise she must honor. Though she'd found her prince where Jefferson said she couldn't, she would keep her father's word. And leave her heart in Prince Charming's keeping.

  As always in his strong presence, she found her own strength. Catching his wrist, she pressed her cheek in his palm. "There's no help for a day that was preordained. I knew it would come, but not so soon."

  Slipping the scarf from her hair, he smoothed dark, silky tresses with his fingers. "What day, Marissa?"

  "The day I say goodbye."

  He went totally still. "But you have another year."

  "That was the agreement. But now it's different." Her voice broke. "I've been called home."

  He wondered what agreement, but only asked, "When?"

  Tears she'd denied flooded her eyes. "I leave tomor­row."

  Jefferson tensed. Then he drew her to him, embracing her in futile denial. "Not yet. Not so soon."

  Her arms crept around him, her head rested over his heart. She would remember this moment and treasure it. Someday she would tell the children she might have about this enchanting place, and of the man whose creation the tree house had been.

  If she had sons, she would speak of his ruggedness, his adventures, and his communion with the wilderness. If she had daughters, she would tell them of the tenderness of a beautiful man, and would wonder if they looked into her heart and saw the truth.

  But that lay in the future, that didn't begin until tomor­row. Until then, she had this one, last day with Jefferson.

  His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek as it nestled against the hard muscles. His hands at her shoulders moved her from his embrace. His shadowed stare moved over her face, lingering at her mouth, her eyes. Seeing what he hadn't let himself see before. Believing what he hadn't dared believe.

  "Dear God," he whispered, with regret for lost time, lost love.

  Marissa didn't flinch or turn away. For once, she wouldn't hide what she felt for him.

  Jefferson's heart filled with hope. "Don't go, Marissa." Softly he spoke words he never expected to say. "Stay with me."

  In his face she saw despair, honor, a friend's love. With a sigh she spoke the truth. "I can't. There is a man, my father owes him a great deal. In return, I was promised to him long ago."

  "Promised to him?" Whatever he expected, it was never this. "Do you love him? Have I misread what I see in your eyes?"

  Marissa felt the lash of his anger and forgave it. "I hardly know him. The betrothal was a business arrange­ment. He wanted a wife one day. It was decided I would be that wife."

  "In return for what?" Jefferson's clasp on her shoulders seared into her flesh. "What do you get out of this arrange­ment?"

  "I get nothing, Jefferson. But because of me, my father and mother can keep their life as it is."

  "Your life and you were traded for wealth, to insure a lifestyle?" He spat the words. "Your father would do that?"

  "For money, power, the lifestyle? Yes." Marissa was calm beneath his angry glare. "It's the way of the wealthy, bartering lives, love, even children. My father was desper­ate. My mother's health was failing. It was for her sake he negotiated this time in Belle Terre. In the bargain, I was to bring the expected graces to the marriage. And who better than Eden to teach me? Now, as a point of honor, my father is impatient to resolve the debt."

  "Honor?" Disgust seethed in Jefferson. Disgust she didn't deserve. She loved her mother and her father. She was so young at the time, what choice was there for her? Deep in his soul, he understood. But understanding couldn't ease the anguish.

  "Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in my land and families like mine. All my father has ever known is abun­dant wealth. As young as I was, even I could see the more extravagant the lifestyle, the less one can fathom living a lesser existence. In your world, the arrangement is despi­cable. In my father's, he has done his best for his family. I could defy him and refuse to honor his word. But, because my mother's illness is slowly debilitating and will likely continue for years, I won't try."

  Jefferson drew a breath. An unsteady hand caressed her face. Softly, he said, "Then tell me how I can help you now."

  Marissa's lips brushed the heel of his hand. Her steady gaze held his. "You could make love to me."

  His chest felt like a vise. If his mind reeled, now it spun into dementia. "No," he heard himself say, though there was nothing he wanted
more than to make love to her. "You don't know what you're asking. You haven't con­sidered the repercussions."

  "You're wrong, my dearest friend. I know exactly what I'm asking. I've considered every repercussion. What I'm expected to do, what I will do, is for my family." Touching his face, she let her drifting fingertips linger at his mouth. "This, I ask for me."

  Curling her fingers into a fist, she stared at her hand, and thought of his. Strong, hard, roughened by calluses, yet beautiful. And even in passion his touch would be gentle.

  "What crime is it to learn of love from a man who cares? What sin to want you, Jefferson? I do, you know," she whispered.

  Jefferson clung to one last shred of sanity. "You..."

  "Don't!" A fingertip stopped his words. "Don't tell me I don't know what I want, what I need. You haven't mis­read anything and I'm not asking for forever. But for my first time, I need to feel your hands on my body. Only yours.

  "I can't change the path of my life. But I can survive it if you give me this to remember. If you pretend for a little while that you love me as more than a friend."

  "No." Though he drew away from her and rose to stand at his full height, he meant only that he wouldn't be pre­tending. Marissa didn't understand. As hurt gathered the eyes, right or wrong, he knew he couldn't deny her. Or himself.

  There was so much more he wanted to say, but he couldn't think. He couldn't be wise or pragmatic. He could only love her.

  "Marissa." He called her name, only her name. Yet be­neath the storm of emotions lay an unspoken question as his slowly extended hand offered her a chance to back away. His riveted look moved from his own roughened fingers to her face. As a bewildered frown marred her brow, he spoke again. "Take my hand, sweetheart. But only if you truly want me. Only if you're sure."

  In a subtle change, hope shone in her eyes. "I'm sure, Jefferson." As she took his hand, her resolve was strong. "I've never been more sure in my life."

  As clasped hands held fast, drawing her up to his em­brace, he knew there were questions to ask. Warnings to give. But common sense was lost as he reveled in holding her. Then into his own silence, he breathed a surrendering word. A curse? A prayer? Not even Jefferson knew. The battle was done. There was no going back.