Annette Blair (10 page)

He stood and looked out the window. When Kira and Billy got in the convertible, Billy patted the seat beside him, and Jason smiled at Kira’s stubborn, negative head shake. That, at least, made him feel better. But damn it, his knee was killing him.

As Billy’s sleek silver Porsche raced down the drive, a shock of red curls waving in the breeze, Jason wondered how a woman, any woman, could blindside him in one short week.

Bewitched
was still the only word Jason could think of to describe the state he was in, besides blindsided and aroused. “Stupid fool,” he called himself as he grabbed his cane and got ready to head for home. “One look at her jeweled navel, and you about walk into a wall. Smooth.”

JASON
took his grandmother to dinner that night. He honestly liked spending time with her, and they hadn’t had a good chat since he started working at the foundation.

Besides, he didn’t want to wait around and listen for the sound of Kira’s door opening. He especially didn’t want to hear the silence of it not opening.

“Why are you so sullen tonight?” Gram asked. “Eat your salad. It’s delicious.”

“Just tired, I guess.” He sounded like a sulky kid, Jason thought, snapping out of it, for her sake.

“I guess you have a right to be tired. You and Kira put in a lot of hours this week. Where did you say she went tonight?”

“The Court Jester took her to a dance at the country club.”

“Good for her,” Gram said. “I like to see her having a good time, especially after that fiasco of a canceled wedding. She was so broken when she came to me.”

“You wanna tell me what happened that was so dreadful?”

His grandmother patted his hand. “I think that’s Kira’s tale to tell. You like her, though, don’t you? And she’s a marvel at coordinating special events, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Gram, you did well. Kira is definitely a find, though we
should
be paying her more. I looked at her contract the other day and I was shocked at her salary. I can’t believe she took such a cut.”

“Well, that’s why the free rent dear, and free meals as often as possible. Wasn’t that a stroke of brilliance on my part? I figure that makes up the difference and then some.”

“Yeah, brilliant.” And now he really couldn’t do anything to change it, like move her out, though he wondered if he honestly wanted to.

“I know you like your privacy,” Gram said, “but—”

“To be honest, Gram, I think I like having her around. She’s good for a laugh, never mind a spell, though I really don’t want her pointing her wand my way.”

His grandmother laughed, because Kira had evidently recounted their first meeting, and Gram’s happiness was worth everything.

“Kira is entertaining, isn’t she?” Gram said. “Though I
hope she doesn’t disturb you when she comes in tonight. Billy usually keeps her out late.”

Usually?
“She’s dated him before?”

“Of course, dear.”

Shit. “She looked tired,” he said. “She might have come home before we left.”

“No, dear, the flowers I sent Gracie upstairs with earlier were still sitting in front of Kira’s door before we left. Gracie had just told me as much before you came down.”

Jason remembered seeing the flowers earlier.

Much later, after dinner and a movie with Gram, Jason found that vase of flowers still sitting in front of Kira’s door.

Were she and Billy still dancing at the country club, or were they doing another kind of dance? “Shit!”

By eleven Jason was pacing his empty suite. A ball-game, of all things, was playing on television, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around anything but Billy’s words.
We’re sleeping late tomorrow
. The jerk.

Jason threw himself into a chair, channel-surfed, and kept track, more or less, of the damned game.

At midnight he started pacing again.

At one he left his cane behind and breached the sanctum known as the kitchen, which felt more like a lightning zone than a neutral one. He made an overloud creek with every stocking-clad step he took across the old wooden floor heading toward the door that led to Kira’s suite.

Setting his ear against the red-enamel door made him feel like a freaking Peeping Tom. If he heard anything, he’d feel like . . . what?

A sick bastard.

Nevertheless, he grasped the crystal knob and tried to turn it, just to make sure it was locked, but it wasn’t. Jason stopped short of opening the door, but he didn’t let go of the knob. Should he consider the unlocked door in the way of an invitation, or a sign that Kira wasn’t into details?

Crap, no, she managed details in a big way; she was getting every one straight for their events.

Hey, was this a come-on?

Did she want him to try her door? Wait a minute. Did she think he was a pervert?

Disgusted with his ridiculous speculation, Jason turned to move away, but his knee gave. He lost his balance, fell against her door, and pushed it open. He heard her key turning in her front door, which he could see from where he stood. Shit!

Jason pulled the door shut, him on the kitchen side, silent as a mouse, but he didn’t dare let go of the knob, because she would hear it turn. He heard her in her apartment, dropping her keys, her footsteps coming in his direction.

What if she were on her way to the kitchen?

He got a mental image of the door opening and the two of them coming face-to-face, his hand on her knob.
He wished
. What would he say? “I was rubbing my face against your door because . . . I missed you?”
Yeah, that would work
.

Her footsteps stopped. She was standing on the opposite side of the door. He knew she was. Could she hear him breathing? He thought he could hear her.

Jason held his breath.

Kira turned the lock, swore when it must have seemed stuck, and bore down on it, hard. To keep from giving himself away, Jason went down on his bad knee, his wrist spraining to twist in the opposite direction.

The loose old-fashioned lock turned with the knob. If he let the knob go, the lock would turn fast, and click into place like a death sentence.

Sitting like a pretzel against her door, Jason counted three more steps, then nothing. He waited, his knee throbbing, his body aching for hers.

How sick was that? What the hell was wrong with him?

Where in the room had she stopped? What was she doing now? Just standing there? Why the sudden silence?

Her suite was a mirror image of his. It would take two dozen steps for her to reach her bedroom.

Maybe she stopped to remove her heels, the black ones with the white heart at the ankle strap.

Stocking feet on carpet could account for the sudden silence. Or she could still be standing there. He wondered if and when it would be safe to recross the creaking kitchen floor.

Her TV went on, making him jump, it sounded so close. Crap, he would never get out of here. If he did, without getting caught, he’d never step into this kitchen again.

After about twenty minutes Jason maneuvered himself into a semi-sitting position, to take the weight off his knee. A new show came on, a pops concert. Great. At the first crescendo, he took his hand from the knob and rubbed his wrist.

Suppose she fell asleep on the sofa and left the TV on all night? Suppose he fell asleep, and she found him here in the morning?

Man, he needed to take a leak.

What would be better, walking across the kitchen fast, or crawling slow on his hands and knees? He decided that trying to stand on his aching knee could cause a ruckus, so he started to crawl, every move painful.

When he was nearly to his living room, he thought he was safe. Then a sledgehammer hit the door from her side . . . and damned near gave him a heart attack.

Jason jumped a foot, banged his bad knee, shouted a succinct four letter word, and fell on his face.

He could have sworn he heard Kira chuckle.

Her TV went off and her footsteps faded.

They both avoided the kitchen, and each other, on Saturday. On Sunday at noon they came face-to-face at Gram’s dining room table.

Despite remaining apart for nearly the entire weekend,
the pulsing heat between them, which had started when she soothed him after he banged his knee in the office, seemed to have risen.

She was wearing black—big surprise—and a bra, unfortunately, beneath a fitted V-neck pocket tee paired with black slacks. As usual, she looked neat, sedate, like nobody’s fool, and sexy as hell.

Turned out that he, too, was wearing black slacks and a pocket tee. Gram noted their his-and-hers outfits with a matchmaker’s delight, but neither of them appreciated the comparison or her enthusiasm.

“You’re not yourself today, dear,” his grandmother said to him. “Looks like you haven’t slept as much as you should this weekend.”

“I think maybe he stays up too late,” Kira said.

“Oh, I hope he doesn’t disturb you, dear?” Gram said.

Kira raised a brow. “Well . . . one of us is disturbed.”

Gram frowned, looked from one of them to the other, smiled, and gave her attention to her lunch.

Jason did not appreciate the cat-who-ate-the-cream expression in Kira’s wide bright eyes.

“I need skating lessons,” she said. “Is that what’s got you down?” she asked.

“Who says I’m down?”

She shrugged. “Just a feeling. How’s the knee?”

Had she winked? “Where’s the wand?”

“I’ve kept it sealed and out of sight since about one-fifteen Saturday morning, so I wouldn’t be tempted to use it on any curious
Charlies
.”

Shit! “Wanna go buy some skates this afternoon?”

“Sure, if you think you can teach me to use them.”

“Let’s talk about it on the way.” Jason rose from the table. “We’re going skate shopping,” he told his grandmother as he kissed her brow. “Wanna come?”

“Hah, just what you need, a little old granny cramping your style.”

They both stilled.

“No style, Gram. Nothing to cramp. We’re coworkers prepping for a job
you
assigned us.”

“Whatever you say, dear. Have a nice afternoon, both of you.”

Kira kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “You, too,” she said.

In no time they were wending their silent way down the hill toward Sports Mania at the brick marketplace.

“So,” Kira said fifteen minutes later as he laced her into a pair of women’s hockey skates. “Why do I have to get on skates? I really hate making a fool of myself . . . unlike some people I know.”

Jason figured that if he never acknowledged her taunts to draw him out about Friday night, she would never really learn how low he’d sunk. Good thing she hadn’t seen him on his belly after she scared the crap out of him.

“Don’t you think the boys wearing skates for the first time will feel less conspicuous with an adult as clumsy as them on the ice?”

“Great,” Kira said. “So your plan is to humiliate me in public?”

“Not a plan,” Jason said, “just a perk.”

JASON
made Kira stand on her skates in the store aisle as he walked around her, admiring her exceptional figure from all angles. “I can’t say I won’t enjoy watching you glide across the ice on your ass,” he said, “but if you need first aid, I’ll rub liniment on your bruised parts.”

Her gaze rose, and they regarded each other, the heat between them subtle but remarkable.

“In your dreams,” she said, with no conviction. Cheered by her tone, Jason imagined running his hands over her every crest and hollow, forgetting he was supposed to be checking the fit of her skates until she raised a skated foot to remind him, and tumbled into his arms.

Jason cleared his throat and stood her up, then he made her flex her ankles and point each toe. “Sit,” he said.

“I just realized that you’re not using your cane,” she said. “Why not?”

“Trying to break the habit in good weather on solid ground.”

“Just see that you don’t break the knee.”

“I’m strengthening the knee, doctor’s orders.” He knelt, trying not to wince, and adjusted her laces before cupping her skate with both hands, checking the way her foot fit inside. He was looking for a fit as snug as a hand gloved in leather.

He had helped other people pick out skates before, but this was the first time he’d enjoyed the process so much.

“I’m gonna break my neck on these,” she said, looking down at them.

“Nah, but watching you struggle will be the highlight of my hockey lessons.”

She made a face. “How
is
the knee?”

“Bruised, like you’re gonna be, after our lesson.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He cupped her chin. “You want to be a good example for the boys, right?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want it to hurt.”

“I’ll give you a preliminary lesson this afternoon, so you don’t make a
complete
ass of yourself, but the kids
will
love that you’re learning like them; they will.”

“If I didn’t think you were right, I’d be pissed.”

“Actually, you’re a pretty good sport,” he said. “Let’s go, and I’ll give you that lesson.” Jason brought her skates to the register.

“This is a work-related lesson,” Kira said, as they left the store. “Not a date or anything remotely related, right?”