Stolen Kisses (10 page)

“Well, we did go to five baby showers in a row, and all the prospective mothers were over thirty,” Jessie admitted. “You, however, were the one who saw the talk show about older women having babies and the two women who decided they should go for the whole works—career, husband, and a baby. You even bragged that you had four more years before the panic age of forty.”

“I thought it was incredible that anyone would go to those lengths, especially women who are old enough to know better. You weren’t supposed to take it so seriously.” Gina’s accusing look made Jessie shift her feet from side to side uneasily. “The next thing I knew, you were hip deep in those silly books on pregnancy for older women and dating in the nineties. So, it
is
your fault. I got pregnant by osmosis.” Gina smiled in triumph at her brilliant theory.

“I give up.” Jessie threw her hands up in a show of surrender. Her partner was one of the most difficult people to argue with once she got an idea into her head. Maybe a nice cup of tea would get them settled for the rest of the afternoon, Jessie decided as she walked toward the credenza.

“And?”

The single word stopped Jessie halfway to her destination. She glanced over her shoulder to inquire, “And what?”

“You’re going to give Trevor a chance to make amends by continuing to work on the Dalrymple house.”

Jessie turned to face her friend; however, her glance fell on the blue-and-white rabbit first. If Trevor kept to her rules, there really wouldn’t be a problem. It was a big if, she knew. Or was it wishful thinking on her part that he wouldn’t? her traitorous little inner voice asked. Unwilling to consider the matter, she looked at her partner’s belligerent expression. “All right, I will work on the Dalrymple house. That’s all I’m going to promise.”

There was a lengthy silence as the two women regarded each other, each almost challenging the other to relent. Gina gave in first. “Well, it’s a start,” she said grudgingly before heading toward her own desk. “But don’t think I’m not going to check up on how you’re treating the poor man. I’m griping for two now.”

Poor man, my foot.
Jessie almost said the words out loud, gazing at the innocent rabbit on the desk. Inwardly she sighed over her friend’s lack of sympathy. How was she going to hold out against a rogue like Trevor Planchet without an ally? She couldn’t protect herself against his practiced assaults if no one was going to come to her defense. Unfortunately, she seemed to be weakening.

Pouring herself a hot cup of tea, she wondered if her mother had felt the same way all those years ago. Was that why she let her father hurt her over and over again until the final separation, because she couldn’t stay angry at her husband? A shiver skated down Jessie’s spine, and she knew that it was an omen of dangerous times again. Her emotions were already in a chaotic state, and the man had sent her only a silly rabbit.

At least Gina hadn’t asked for any details about last night, so her juvenile behavior was still a secret.

Trevor stood on the doorstep at nine o’clock, wondering what he was doing. When he’d left the rally planning meeting at Curtiss’s, his car seemed to have had a mind of its own. Since he had a few days off due to the car rally, he could have stayed with the others for a relaxing evening. At their protests, he told his friends that he wanted to turn in early for a change and be fresh for the rally weekend.

So why was he standing on Jessie’s doorstep? Was that what Logan’s cryptic thumbs-up signal had meant before he left the house? Had the other man known what he was going to do before Trevor himself? It really didn’t matter. He was here now, so he had to do something about it.

Before he could reconsider, he pressed his thumb to the doorbell. She couldn’t think he was any more of an idiot than she did already. So why did he have the urge to run when he didn’t hear any sounds from behind the door?

Time seemed to stand still. He knew she had enough time to reach the door and check through the peep hole; in fact, he stood back so she would have a clear view. Still, the door didn’t open. Just as he was about to give up hope, the porch light went on. A second later he heard the bolt turn and the door began to inch open.

“Hello.” That was all he could manage at the surprising sight of Jessie dressed in baggy brilliant-orange sweats. Damn, she looked like a blue blood even in misshapen clothes and a ponytail. His taut muscles relaxed. She was alone. Without realizing it, he’d been wondering if she might have had company, of the male variety.

“Trevor.” Her husky voice washed over him, soothing his erratic nerves. She didn’t sound surprised or angry. He hoped he didn’t do anything inadvertently to change that.

“I was on the way home from a meeting at my brother’s house out on Highway Ten and thought I’d stop in to get your answer in person.”
Why not tell her everything you did today?
he chided himself.

She didn’t bother to question what answer he wanted. He held his breath when she hesitated a moment before saying, “Won’t you come in? It’s a little chilly to stand here talking.”

He nodded and silently stepped inside. Was it his imagination, or did she seem much more at ease in his company tonight? Of course, he hadn’t done anything stupid yet. Was she being nice because tonight was the end of their brief acquaintance? he wondered as he followed her into the living room.

“Please sit down. Would you like something to drink?” she asked politely as if she were entertaining the minister.

“No, thank you,” he returned in the same civil tone. He took a seat on the edge of a horsehair chair, feeling as stiff as any of his Victorian ancestors. Not wanting to make a false move, he waited for Jessie to speak. She moved quickly around the room, turning on two more lamps. Her glance strayed more than once to the table near his elbow.

“I want to thank you for the rabbit and the balloons,” she stated, her hands clasped primly in front of her. Standing in the middle of the room, she had the stance of the perfect society hostess. “I really think I owe you an apology as well. There was no excuse for what I did. I overreacted, and I’m sorry.”

Should he accept her apology? Would he be damned if he did, or damned if he didn’t? Maybe he should simply be noncommittal. “That’s all right.”

Silence descended again, making Trevor look around for anything that would be a suitable topic. Jessie’s fondness for Victorian decor showed clearly in her choices. The medallion-backed sofa and parlor chairs were good reproductions, much more delicate than the furniture he’d grown up around. The fringed shaded lamps and other bric-a-brac were antiques that blended well with more contemporary pieces. On the marble-topped table next to him were a number of photographs in ornate frames, almost hidden by a pile of books. He cursorily glanced at the titles, then reached over to pick up a photograph of a large group of people.

“Is this your family?” He glanced up to find her brilliant blue gaze trained on him. Her expression was hard to read, almost bittersweet.

“Yes, those are my brothers and sisters on the farm in Tennessee.”

“You’ve come a long way from a Tennessee farm.” He was impressed with what she had accomplished.

“Hearing my life story wasn’t why you came here tonight, though,” she answered quickly, seeming to shake off the memory conjured up by his question about her family.

Realizing that she didn’t want to say any more about her family, he took a deep breath. He might as well get this over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible. “No, I came to find out if you’re still going to work on my house.”

“Yes.”

He cocked his head to the side, waiting to see if there was more. “Yes, that’s all?”

Jessie actually, smiled, sending his pulse rate into double time. There was some quality he still couldn’t quite define when she smiled. He wished he could pin it down. That might be the answer to his fascination with the lady. Maybe it was only because he hadn’t seen her smile at him very often.

“I’ll reserve judgment for now,” she answered easily, her expression almost turning playful. “My partner says I haven’t been very fair to you. So I will try to keep an open mind, within reason.”

He smiled grudgingly in return. Who had been treating whom unfairly? Tonight was going to be a sleepless night over Jessie again, he acknowledged glumly. She was one surprise after another. He had been sure she would turn him down; that was why he hadn’t waited until Monday to see her. The suspense had been gnawing at him. Maybe he should also send her friend a token of appreciation for her defense of him. He was probably going to need all the help he could get. Unable to think of another topic to discuss, he rose to his feet to leave.

The lady hadn’t expected his sudden movement and took a cautious step backward. He smiled sadly at her reaction. “I’m not really all that dangerous.”

Jessie didn’t answer, merely raising an arched brow that seemed to contradict his words. He simply walked to the front door, trying to tamp down his instincts. What he wanted most in the world at that moment was to take Jessie in his arms. He was sure, however, that would be the worst move he could make. She remained silent as she followed him to the door.

When he grasped the doorknob, he turned to glance down at her. For perhaps the first time, she wasn’t looking at him with anger or disdain. Her blue eyes were wide with curiosity. Even without makeup, her face was alluring.

Not stopping to think about his actions, not calculating the result, he slowly bent his head. His lips feathered across the full warmth of hers. Reluctantly, he raised his head. She didn’t pull away, which he thought was encouraging. The temptation of her flushed face and slumberous eyes was too great, and he bent to kiss her again.

Just as before, the world went into a tailspin. A mixture of feelings coursed through him. He felt a basic, primitive desire for the soft woman in his arms, mingled with a need to cherish and protect her. When she trembled against him, his arms tightened instinctively, but he didn’t deepen the kiss. He didn’t trust himself.

“I’m not dangerous,” he told her, his voice not quite steady, “but I don’t have much will power where you’re concerned. I’ll try to keep to the agreement, but I won’t promise that I’ll always keep my hands to myself.”

Before she could say a word, he walked out the door, closing it firmly behind him. Pausing on the front step, he took a deep breath to clear his head. Even a brief kiss from Jessie was potent. He had felt her lips move under his, he was sure of it. Liquid desire still coursed through him, and he wondered if he would be able to survive actually making love with her.

As he ambled to his car, a sudden thought occurred to him. What was a woman like Jessica DeLord doing with books on dating and babies? More important, what was Jessie’s preoccupation with babies? Before he grasped the door handle he looked back at the house. He tried to remember the titles of the books by the photographs. Shaking his head, he climbed into the car. Every time he solved one piece of the puzzle about the lady, another one seemed to spring up.

“Hi, beautiful.”

Jessie almost spilled her tea on the fabric samples in front of her. Somehow Trevor had materialized out of nowhere after a three-day absence and was now sitting on the edge of her desk. “Hello.”

“Did you miss me over the weekend?”

She caught the teasing glint in his brown eyes and relaxed. After Thursday night, she decided to take things one day at a time. She wasn’t going to let Trevor goad her into any rash behavior. They’d been able to have a rational conversation that night, so if she was careful, they could get along. She just refused to remember his departure. “Was I supposed to miss you?”

“You could pretend. At least tell me that the news was flat without me.”

“I don’t watch the local news.” She smiled gently to soften her denial. As long as she kept her distance from him and didn’t think about her physical reaction to his touch, she was perfectly all right. At least she was with the width of the desk between them.

“That’s sacrilege!” he exclaimed, clasping his hand to his heart in a movement that was terribly familiar to Jessie. With Trevor now attired in an old football jersey and jeans, the gesture wasn’t quite as dramatic as the first time she’d seen it.

“So sue me. Did you come in here only to harass me, or was there a reason?” she asked brightly, more than pleased with her handling, of the situation. Leaning back in her chair, she was able to look at Trevor and see her partner’s stunned reaction to the by-play.

“A little of both, actually, as my friend Logan says. I wanted to show you these pictures of the kitchen cabinets we’re putting in this week.” He passed her the photographs before he continued. “We’re planning to use a light walnut stain on the wood. Sometime while you’re shopping around for some items, would you look for some dishes and glasses that would be displayed well in the upper cabinets?”

“I think so.” Looking at the picture of the glass-fronted cabinet, she felt yet another twinge of longing to own this house. Apparently her thoughts were all too clear.

“Love my house, tolerate me?”

“That about sums up the matter.”

“Jessie!” Gina’s chastisement broke in before Trevor could respond. “You shouldn’t be rude to a client.”

“He started it,” she shot back, realizing that she was enjoying herself without feeling threatened. Maybe this partnership was going to work after all. Then she looked up and was stunned at the sudden transformation in Trevor’s expression.