Read Reilly's Return for Free Online

to be, that was all. The Chinese called it
jos
—fate, luck. Maybe it just wasn’t
jos
for them to get together. Of course, Reilly wouldn’t be receptive to that explanation.
    “I came here to start fresh,” Jayne said. “I don’t want ghosts. I don’t want guilt.”
    Reilly heaved a weary sigh. He’d had this argument with himself more than once in the past few months. He speared a hand back through his bi-colored hair impatiently. “Mac’s dead, Jaynie. Dead and buried. There’s no reason for the livin’ to go on feelin’ guilty. We shouldn’t feel guilty that we’re alive and he’s not. We shouldn’t feel guilty that we want each other.” He held up a hand to cut her off when she opened her mouth to protest. “And don’t deny that you want me, luv; I know damn well you do.”
    Jayne bit her tongue on a naughty word. She picked up her bucket again and retrieved the orange sponge that had bounced away.
    “Okay,” she admitted as she edged backward toward the wings, stage right. “Maybe I do want you. But I’m not interested in being just another in a long line of your paramours, Reilly,” she said, shaking her dripping sponge at him. “I’m not interested in having you suck up my whole life like some kind of a human tornado and turn it all inside out and upside down. I’m settled here. I’ve found a certain amount of existential bliss. I know where the center of the earth is. I don’t need you barging in and knocking me off my spiritual axis.”
    Reilly shook his head as he followed her offstage and into the cluttered area beyond. There she went, spouting off all that metaphysical garbage again. The woman knew more senseless double-talk than any ten politicians. Whether she realized it or not, she used it like a shield to ward off people. Only the very patient or the very weird were willing to try to get past it. He was neither, but he’d be damned if he was going to let her fend him off with it.
    “You can stay on your bloody axis if you like,” he said as they went out into the hall backstage. In one graceful move he turned and corralled Jayne against the yellow wall with an arm braced on either side of her. “But I’m not going anywhere, luv. I’ve lived with wantin’ you for too long to call it quits now.”
    “Ah, so that’s it. I’m a challenge to you,” Jayne said, trying for some of Alaina’s dry sarcasm. The slight quiver of hurt in her voice ruined the effect. She wished she could melt through the rough plaster wall behind her. Hard little nodules bit into her scalp and her back as she pressed against it. “Heaven help me, that’s got to be like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Well, you can’t have me, Pat Reilly. So there!”
    He caught her slender arm as she duckedunder his and started to stomp away from him. “Dammit, Jayne, that’s not it and you know it.”
    She glared up at him, her dark eyes gleaming. “I don’t know it,” she snapped, losing control of some of the anger she had stored up inside her long ago, anger at being attracted to Reilly, anger at having him be attracted to her. “I was your best friend’s wife. What better challenge could there be?”
    Reilly swore long and colorfully, fighting for control of his temper. His hand tightened convulsively on Jayne’s arm. “I loved Mac like a brother. I never woulda done anythin’ to hurt him. But he’s dead, goddammit, and we’re not. How long are you gonna go on lettin’ him protect you, Jaynie? You’ve got a life to live.”
    His words went straight to Jayne’s heart and stuck there like needle-nosed darts. She pried his fingers from her upper arm one by one and carefully straightened the sleeve of her oversized coat, while struggling to force the tears out of her throat. She needed to get away from him. She couldn’t think at all when Reilly was around. His intensity disrupted her spiritual oneness with her intellectual self. The man was a gosh darned nuisance.
    “If you’ll excuse