Trouble in High Heels (8 page)

“I need to take Kenny out to tinkle before we leave.”

“Can’t your housekeeper do that, since you’re leaving him here?”

She looked at him as if he’d sprouted an extra head. “I’m not leaving him anywhere. Kenny goes where I go.”

Jackson groaned. “Well, you better hope Kenny can hold it, because we’ll be on the road for a long time. And I’m not stopping every fifteen minutes for your dog.” As he stomped up the stairs to get her luggage, he heard her mutter.

“Crab.”

“I heard that,” he tossed over his shoulder.

“Good,” she tossed back.

Jackson growled under his breath. This trip was going to be hell. Neither of them was starting out with a great attitude. He pushed the door open to her bedroom to find five suitcases stacked beside each other. Shaking his head in disbelief, he called down to her, “You’re not seriously planning to take all this luggage, are you?”

“Serious as a heart attack. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone; therefore, I don’t know what I’ll need.”

“So she just packed everything,” he said to himself and juggled the suitcases downstairs. He loaded them into the car and waited impatiently for Kenny to do his business.

He hustled her and the dog in the car, then got in the driver’s seat. Starting the ignition, he glanced at her as she arranged herself and Kenny in the seat. “You need to duck until we’re out of your neighborhood.”

“Duck?” she echoed in disbelief.

“Hide,” he repeated. “Put your head down.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “I can’t believe that anyone will notice me in-”

“This has gotten out of control. We’re not taking any chances,” he said. “Either lie down in the back seat, or duck.”

In order to keep her head out of Jackson ’s lap, Lori had to smash her rear end against the door of the vehicle, and Kenny didn’t like being on the floor at all. Although she found herself staring at the dash, she was still entirely too aware of Jackson ’s proximity. He might be cranky, but he’d responded to her crisis with gratifying speed. Despite the fact that someone had leaked her secret, she still felt safe with him.

Because she represented the most important account he’d ever been assigned, she told herself. It had nothing to do with integrity or the kind of man he was, she tried to tell herself, but something inside her disagreed. She would think about that later, she brooded, stroking Kenny to comfort him and herself.

“So the whole world knows I’m willing to buy a husband,” she said, her stomach twisting at the thought. It was bad enough that she’d privately concluded that love wasn’t in her future. Knowing that everyone else knew she was so desperate she had to pay a man to marry her was mortifying. “How are we going to pull this off now?” she asked. It sure looked futile to her.

“The whole world doesn’t know,” he said. “Just Dallas,” he added, his words offering little comfort. “This will blow over. It’s the gossip of the week. The important thing is to take you out of the public eye for a while. We still have four prospects, five if you include the broke duke.”

Craning to look at him, she lifted her head. “But how am I going to meet with them if I’m staying out of the public eye? And for that matter, where are you taking me?”

Jackson pushed her head down. “Stay down,” he said. “I’ve put the word out that you’ve taken a trip to Europe.”

Lori Jean brightened. “ Paris? Tell me it’s Paris.”

“It can be wherever you want it to be, because you’re not really going there. I’m taking you to Miracles in Motion. It’s perfect. It’s in the middle of nowhere, and no one will expect you to be there.”

She automatically lifted her head. “But I don’t ri-”
-de horses anymore.
Lori barely managed to swallow the entire confession. She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. She didn’t want Jackson to know she didn’t ride anymore. The last thing she wanted was to admit any frailty or insecurity to him. It would only give him another reason to think less of her.

Jackson glanced at her. “Damn it. Keep your head-” He glanced back at the road and swore again, jerking the steering wheel to the right.

The sharp swerve sent her over the dash, her head poised above Jackson ’s crotch.

“Crazy driver, pick a lane and stay in it…”

He continued to mutter while Lori tried not to notice the way his worn jeans outlined his powerful thighs and the bulge between his legs.

She closed her eyes, and an image sneaked into her brain of her skimming her hands down his hard belly and him urging her on.

Lori started to sweat. Giving her head a small shake, she told herself she definitely needed to move.

Jackson abruptly stopped muttering and swearing, prompting her to steal a glance up at him.

He met her gaze, then she felt his gaze linger on her mouth, causing her lips to feel burned.

“Now, that’s a sight I won’t forget for a long time.”

“
Here we are,” Jackson said as he turned onto a dirt road.

Lori looked at the battered sign for the ranch and a wave of nostalgia mixed with apprehension. She remembered arriving at the ranch during her college years and how quickly she’d felt at home here. Her father’s name hadn’t mattered. Nor had her mother’s notorious love life. Her willingness to work and her ability with the horses and children had earned her acceptance by the rest of the staff.

She thought of Skip Dawson and felt a stab of loss at the wise, gentle man with a deadpan sense of humor. She’d often laughed at his puns because they’d been so dreadfully corny. Now he was gone. “Why do the good ones have to die?” she murmured.

“What?” Jackson asked.

She glanced at him and shook her head. “I was thinking of the owner, Skip, and wondering why good people seem to leave too quickly.”

Slowing, he pulled to a stop and looked at her for a long moment. “You liked Skip.”

She nodded. “He was the best. He was like a second father to me when I was here at the ranch.” She paused, feeling another pang of loss. “I haven’t been close to that many people.” She shook her head, feeling her throat tighten. “I don’t like losing the good ones, the important ones.”

“Like Skip,” he said.

“And Daddy and Momma, and for a long, long time, my sisters.”

“What do you mean your sisters?”

“Daddy wouldn’t let me contact my sisters or my momma after he took me away from her. He was afraid I would turn out like her or Delilah or Katie Priss.”

He shook his head and gave a low whistle. “Did they go to jail? Were they prostitutes or murderers? What was so bad about them? You told me about the letters from your mother, but not about your sisters.”

“I lost them for over ten years,” she murmured. “He was afraid I would become a floozy like my mother. And he thought Delilah was nothing but trouble.”

“What about your older sister?”

“Guilty by association. She was pure as the driven snow. He tried to make up for it, but I couldn’t help feeling like a part of me had been amputated.” A familiar guilt trickled through her, making her stomach hurt. She’d been the lucky one. Her sisters’ childhoods had been much more difficult than hers. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’m being silly. I’ve lived like a princess. I have no room for whining.”

She bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t blurted her feelings to Jackson. Of all people, he probably wouldn’t understand. It was clear that he thought she was spoiled and unreasonable. She looked away, hoping he would take the hint and finish the drive to the ranch.

His hand on her arm took her by surprise. She automatically turned to look at him. He slid his fingers up to cup her jaw. “You’re a screwy little mix, Lori. You pick the strangest things to kick yourself for. When it comes to parents, we all get the luck of the draw. When we grow up, life’s what we make it.” His eyes gentled. “You feel like an orphan no matter when your parents die. You’re left behind to deal with your life on your own. That’s all understandable, but it’s better to have had someone terrific in your life even if you lose them.”

Surprised at his expression of sympathy, she held his gaze and felt a wave of deep understanding flow between them. “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

“Something like that,” he said and cracked a smile. “In your case, better to have been loved and lost than never to have been loved at all.”

His sympathy touched her. She leaned toward him and brushed her lips over his cheek. “Thanks.”

“For what?” he asked, looking surprised.

“For being nice,” she said with a shrug.

His lips twitched, and he turned back to the steering wheel and put the car in gear. “Don’t get used to it,” he said in a gruff voice.

She wondered what experience had made him adopt his philosophy. She wondered what his family life had been like. “You know, we haven’t talked much about your family,” she ventured.

“That’s right. And there’s no need to change that now.”

“It’s not fair that you know almost everything about me and I know nothing about you.”

“You know enough. You know I’m your accountant and you can trust me not to give in to your wiles to get more money and you can trust me to find a temporary husband to meet your specifications. You can trust me to look out for your best interests, because your best interests are my best interests.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s still not fair.”

“Fair enough,” he said firmly and pulled to a stop in a graveled parking lot close to the main ranch house.

“What’s your mother like?”

“She’s a hard worker. Always has been. Always had to be.” He muttered the last part under his breath.

“And your father?”

His eyes narrowed, and she saw a dozen emotions come and go in his gaze. “Undependable. Sometimes there, but usually not. Sometimes working, but usually not. It would have been easier if he hadn’t been around at all. Then my mother and brother wouldn’t hope he would come through when he didn’t.”

“Oh,” she said, at a loss.

“Yeah,
oh,
” he echoed, meeting her gaze. His facial features were neutral, but the way his hands clenched the steering wheel revealed his anger. “Aren’t you glad you asked?”

“Yes and no,” she said, knowing she was treading on eggshells. “Yes, because it makes me understand you a little better. No, because the subject is obviously a painful one for you.”

“Painful,” he mocked. “You have to give a damn in order to feel pain. I don’t.”

It might have been wiser to let it go at that. There was really no need to disagree with him, but Lori had glimpsed his honesty. She skimmed her fingers down his arm to his still-clenched fingers on the steering wheel. “I think I feel some
damn
right about here,” she said gently, rubbing the tense tendons in his right hand.

His eyes darkened with an emotion that made her feel a little nervous. She almost retracted her hand and her statement, but she had the odd sensation of playing truth or dare, and if she didn’t take the dare, then he would never respect her. She would Super Glue her lips together before she confessed, but she wanted Jackson ’s respect in a big way.

His right jaw twitched once, twice, and he narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to sustain the anger but was having a tough time. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I’ve never heard anyone suggest that my hands had some damn in them,” he said.

“Well, they do. Look at them,” she said, but his hands were relaxed now. “Okay, well, they
did
have some damn in them.”

“Sure you didn’t imagine it?”

She dropped her jaw in surprise. “Absolutely not, and you know it. Your hands were-” She broke off when she saw the beginning of a chuckle. He was teasing her. She punched his bicep.

“Ouch!”

“Oh, right,” she said. “Like you barely even felt that. You think you’re so clever.”

He grabbed her hand. “There’s more to you than meets the eye. And what meets the eye is enough to cause trouble,” he said with a sigh and tugged her closer. “I don’t like talking about my father,” he said, his mouth a breath from hers.

The atmosphere changed in an instant. Passion took the place of anger. Her heart slammed against her rib cage.

“If anyone else had said what you did, I would have cut them off right away.”

“Maybe you can’t resist my girlish charm, after all,” she managed in a husky whisper, feeling out of her depth but determined to stay in the water with him.

“We’re in trouble if I can’t,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers, barely touching her lips.

Lori strained to press her mouth more fully against his. Her reaction was so fast and instinctive it took her by surprise. Where was this coming from? Why did she want him?

He groaned. “Just this once,” he muttered and really kissed her, shoving her questions far from her mind. Sliding his hands behind her back, he pulled her against him and devoured her mouth with his. His strength, physical and sexual, made her dizzy. He slid his tongue past her lips and demanded a response from her. She felt her nipples grow taut and her internal temperature ratchet upward.

Echoing his moves, she slid her tongue into his mouth and he gave another groan that vibrated all the way down to her toes. She’d been kissed nearly to the point of no return before, but no one had ever made her feel so hot she was certain steam would rise from her skin.

Something about him made him seem so much more like a man to her. Something about him made her wish she was more experienced so she could make him half as hot as she was.

She rubbed her achy breasts against his chest and he took control of the kiss again, sliding his tongue over hers. She suckled it, drawing him deep into her mouth, and she felt his thumbs brush the sides of her breasts.

More, more, more. She wriggled against him and lifted her hands to slide her fingers through his hair.

She felt his thumb move closer to her nipple and a wild, carnal need ricocheted through her like a sparkler on the Fourth of July.
Touch it, touch me.

He moved his thumb away and she couldn’t quite swallow the whimper crowding her throat.

“Oh, you like that,” he muttered against her mouth. “You want more.”

He rubbed his palm over her nipple and she shuddered.

He swore. “I didn’t think you would be this hot.” He French-kissed her again, still rubbing his palm over her breast. “All it takes is a touch and you kiss me like you’d spread your legs and let me take you right here, right now. I bet you’re already wet.”

Lori felt her cheeks heat at his words. He was right. She was wet and wanting, but she didn’t want him to know. It wasn’t fair that he still sounded in control when she was hot and bothered.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled away from him. She cleared her throat. “That was educational. Now that we’ve done that once, we won’t need to do it again.”

He gave a nonchalant nod. “If you can control yourself.”

His attitude nettled her. “I didn’t start it.”

“The way you look at me started it. You look at me like you want to rip my clothes off and indulge your darkest, baddest thoughts.”

“I do not,” she lied. “You have an inflated opinion of yourself, but that’s no surprise. Your arrogance isn’t the least bit seductive.”

“Well, something about me works for you, because you were begging me to kiss you and touch you. You were begging for more.”

“Don’t take it so personal,” she said, feigning a breezy air although she still felt jittery. “It’s been a while for me. I’m going inside to see Virginia.”

Frowning, Jackson watched Lori get out of the car and walk across the rough parking lot. Although she wore jeans, she also wore heels, which were impractical as hell. The heels, however, did things to her gait that kept his gaze fastened to her backside.

He remembered how she’d felt and tasted and grew hard again. Swearing, he adjusted his jeans and narrowed his eyes at the woman who, just minutes ago, had acted like a scorching man-eater determined to consume and be consumed.

Kissing her had been a mistake. Knocked sideways by the strange conversation they’d shared about their families, he’d told himself and her it was just that once.

But now he knew how she felt and tasted. Now he knew she was hotter than black pavement in Dallas in August. He had the unsettling feeling that he’d opened Pandora’s box by kissing her.

She’d seemed cool as a cucumber when she’d stepped out of the car and left him with a lingering whisper of her French-perfumed scent, but the way she’d responded to him made him doubt her easy dismissal of her reaction to him.

“Actions speak louder than words, princess,” he muttered. No matter, he told himself, his arousal finally starting to wane. If she was determined to be Miss Cool, then all the better. As long as she didn’t toss him those I-want-you-now looks, then they would be just fine.

Lori climbed the slanting wooden steps of the large farmhouse. The house needed a new coat of paint and a few repairs, she noticed as she felt a board wiggle beneath her foot. As she approached the screen door, however, she smelled the scent of a fresh-baked pie. She inhaled and closed her eyes. Cinnamon, apples… Eager to see Virginia, she knocked on the door.

A moment later, a beautiful young Mexican woman, with long dark hair and a scar that slashed across her cheek, stood at the door. “Good afternoon,” she said and studied Lori for a long moment, her eyes hinting at disapproval. “You must be Lori Granger. I’m Maria. Come in. I will tell Virginia.”

Lori stepped inside the foyer while the woman disappeared to the back of the house. She heard a low voice followed by a peal of delight and immediately smiled at Virginia ’s response.

“Lori,” the older woman said as she rounded the corner, dressed in an apron, with Maria following slowly behind her. “You came! It’s been too long, sweetheart.”

Virgina’s hair contained far more gray than before, and she was thinner. Her eyes held a combination of sadness and weariness, but her wide smile was still full of magic. Lori immediately rushed into her open arms. “ Virginia, I’m so glad to see you. And I’m so sorry about Skip.”

Virginia sighed and gave her a squeeze. “You’ve had a tough time, too, sweetie, with your daddy passing.” She pulled back and looked at Lori. “We’re pleased as punch to have you, but I didn’t quite understand what that Jackson man was telling me. Your visit needs to be confidential? You’re not running from the law, are you?”

Lori laughed. “No, nothing like that. Jackson ’s just being protective.”

“He’s a bodyguard?”

Lori shook her head. “Not exactly. My accountant,” she said.

She noticed Virginia looking past her outside the door. “That’s your accountant?” she said in a lowered voice, and Lori didn’t have to turn around to know that Jackson was climbing the steps of the porch. Lori noticed Maria staring with an assessing expression that made Lori feel, well, weird.