A Bride for Jackson Powers (Desire, 1273) (9 page)

“We’ll be ready.”

“We?”

“Sunny and I.”

He said, “Oh, yeah,” hung up the phone and smacked himself on the forehead with his fist. It had been that kind of day. Tomorrow didn’t promise to be any better, what with the feds trying to pin down the ship owner about paying for the cleanup, the captain responsible for the spill in the hospital with a ruptured appendix and an appointment to look at houses.

As if he knew the first thing about looking at houses.

With all that on his mind, he kept imagining himself asking Hetty things like, “King-size or queen-size, honey? I think a queen-size bed’s big enough, don’t you?”

Things like, “Gas logs or the real thing? Me, I kind of fancy sitting in front of a real log fire, don’t you?”

As though they’d be sharing everything.

“Lady, you are seriously screwing up my brain,” he muttered as he cleared his desk of the day’s accumulation and slammed shut the top drawer.

She was ready when he arrived. Correction—they were ready. Sunny was wearing a new yellow snowsuit—did they still call them that? Kids had worn snowsuits when he was a boy. He couldn’t remember much of his early childhood, but he remembered that much.

Hetty wore a dark skirt under an all-weather coat. Her shoes were the kind invariably described as “sensible.”

On her they looked sexy as the devil.

“We’ve got rush-hour traffic to contend with. Lina
set up four interviews, with the first one set for six. We allowed twenty minutes for each, which means it might cut into dinnertime. Will twenty minutes each be long enough?”

“It sounds about right. I’ve never interviewed anyone before.”

“I thought you were the expert.” He skillfully avoided a collision with a stalled delivery truck.

“Not on hiring, on babies. And I never claimed to be an expert.” Sunny was in her carrier, strapped into the back seat. She was making noises. “Did you hear that?” Hetty exclaimed, beaming. “She called you Daddy.”

“Sounded like doggy to me.”

“Who’s the expert here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Duly noted.”

They were bantering, almost the way they had back at the airport once they’d gotten used to each other. As bad as things had been before they’d finally escaped, she had never lost her sense of humor.

Of the four applicants scheduled, the first was a no-show. “Reliability is important,” Hetty said. “I guess showing up counts for something.”

“Might be stuck in traffic somewhere,” Jax offered, feeling generous. They were in his pine-paneled office. Sunny was on his lap playing with a wad of rubber bands while Hetty admired the view of the shipyard from his corner window.

“I didn’t realize we were this close to the water.”

“In Norfolk, you’re never that far away. Although
at the rate it’s growing, pretty soon Greater Norfolk will take in more territory than a few states I could mention.”

“Where do you keep your boat?”

“Little place on the Intracoastal Waterway. Sort of a mom and pop marina. I’ll take you there this weekend and show you.”

“Oh, but—”

Before she could voice whatever excuse she’d been about to put forth, the next applicant showed up. She was chewing gum. She wore the kind of perfume that was priced by the pint instead of the ounce. All the same, Jax went through the process and promised to let her know by the next afternoon.

“Poor thing, she’ll be disappointed,” Hetty said after the woman had left, leaving her potent essence behind. “She might really need the job.”

Jax opened a window and let the fresh air blow through for a few minutes. “I haven’t noticed a lack of Help Wanted signs lately, have you? She’ll find something if she’s really interested.”

“I hope so,” Hetty murmured, looking worried as he called in the next applicant. Dammit, Jax told himself, there was such a thing as having too soft a heart.

The next woman had requirements of her own, including health insurance, two full days off a week, her own living quarters and a car at her disposal.

“Well, hell,” Jax said plaintively after she’d been shown out. “At this rate, I’m never going to find help.” He raked his fingers through his hair, a habit
he had when he was tired and worried and things weren’t falling into a neat, orderly pattern.

“Those were reasonable requests. Maybe not the insurance—at least, not right off. All the same, someone a little more flexible might be better. With babies, you can never tell what might come up.” Hetty was sitting across the room holding a drowsy Sunny on her lap, the baby’s head pillowed on her breast.

Jax wished it were his head. He wished—

The next applicant, a red-cheeked young woman who didn’t look old enough to be out of school, poked her head through the doorway and called out, “Hi, am I too late? Have you already found someone?”

So they went through the process all over again, and Jax told her they would let her know tomorrow.

Hetty, gathering up Sunny’s diaper bag, her own purse and coat, said, “Now that one, I like.”

“She’s just a kid.”

“She showed up. That means she’s at least marginally responsible.”

“Or hungry.”

“So? She’s bright and cheerful, and with babies that counts for a lot. Besides, she said she had seven brothers and sisters, so she’s obviously had experience.”

“So have you.”

Hetty didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything. Jax locked up and saw them out into the cold, damp air. “Is that ocean I smell?” she asked as he bundled them into the car.

“Yeah, I guess it is. It carries when the wind’s out of the northeast.”

He’d hardly noticed, having inhaled so deeply when he was reaching past her to fasten Sunny into her carrier that his head was still reeling. She smelled of her own clean, subtle fragrance. He suspected it was little more than soap, shampoo and hand lotion, plus her own particular chemistry.

Whatever it was, it affected his senses in a way no expensive perfume ever had.

He drove without attempting to make conversation. Traffic was still heavy. Sunny was humming. At least that was the only way he could describe it.

He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She’ll be singing for her supper in a little while, though, so we’d better not waste time getting home.”

Home. When was the last time he’d thought about home? There had been a series of boarding schools, the university, the marine corps, then law school. He’d lived in a series of dormitories, rooms and apartments, from the cheapest to the luxury kind where he lived now.

One thing there had never been—at least none that he could recall—was a place he called home.

“I thought we’d stop and get something to eat,” he said.

“I could scramble us some eggs. Or maybe make an omelet.”

“You’re on,” he said, hoping he wasn’t going to make any more serious mistakes.

S
he could cook. She was a natural with babies. She looked delectable no matter what she was wearing—or not wearing. Her background and his were completely different. Not a single point of reference so far as he could tell. And yet…

And yet, despite the fact that his was a trained legal mind, Jax knew he was in serious danger of tossing out all the evidence, pro and con, and going on gut feeling alone.

Hetty scooped up a spoonful of eggs from Sunny’s plate. “What about a combination? The woman with all the demands, Mrs. Charles, and—what was her name? The one with the large family?”

“Roselle McCarter.”

“I’ll bet they call her Rosie. Anyway, Rosie could come in on Mrs. Charles’s days off and maybe fill in at other times, if she doesn’t find anything better.”

“Hmm?” Jax had been busy admiring the graceful movements of her hand as she poked food into Sunny’s birdlike mouth. “Don’t kids usually sit in high chairs?”

“She’ll need one pretty soon, but until she’s a little steadier on her bottom, the carrier on a chair works fine. Oops! No, not in your hair, honey.” She caught the wad of eggs just before it could be massaged into Sunny’s dark curls. “Her table manners need a bit of polishing, but she’s learning, aren’t you, sugar?”

Jax was entranced. It occurred to him that this was the sort of scene some men might find boring. Jax found it totally absorbing. But then, he could remember spending hours at the zoo, watching the mama apes holding, feeding and grooming their offspring.

Was this a part of what was called bonding? He’d never thought much about it before. He’d damn sure never bonded with anyone, child or adult.

“Hetty, how about checking out a couple of houses with me tomorrow? Unless you’ve got something else scheduled, that is.”

“Well, we’d planned to find some water and look at boats. I told her about her great-great-however-many-greats-grandfather. The one who adopted the baby girl?”

“Oh, yeah, she’ll be fascinated by her so-called heritage, I’m sure. Seriously, I wouldn’t mind getting a woman’s perspective.”

She hesitated so long he thought she was going to refuse, but she nodded. “We’ll be glad to offer an opinion for what it’s worth, but when it comes to houses, my experience is pretty limited. You might want to ask someone else?”

It was another statement in the form of a question. He didn’t know if it was an Oklahoma thing, or merely a sign of her insecurity. Then Sunny dropped a chunk of mashed banana onto the floor. Grateful for the distraction, he said, “I’ll get it.”

“No, let me.” She swooped down and scooped up that and several wads of egg. No fool, he took advantage of it to admire the graceful line of her back when she leaned over. Her shirt and skirt parted to reveal a narrow view of white nylon slip, setting fire to his imagination.

You’re losing it, Powers.

Once supper was over, he insisted on helping with his daughter’s bed prep. The bath, the nuzzling, the diapering, the nuzzling, the fitting of small moving body parts into a flannel sleeper. More nuzzling. It seemed to be an important part of the process.

“I need to know how to do this stuff. She didn’t come with instructions,” he said.

“You’ll do fine. Common sense, love and a few pointers is all you need.”

Sunny, drowsy and flushed from her bath, grinned up at him, and he felt a physical pain in the region of his heart.

Hetty picked her up, buried her face in the plump,
sweet-smelling neck and made blowing noises. “I shouldn’t do that,” she said ruefully. “Now she’s wide-awake.”

While she settled the gurgling baby in the crib, Jax lingered, taking in the tableau of woman and child.

He cleared his throat. “We need to talk about transportation. If you’re going to be able to get around, you’ll need something to drive.”

Backing away from the crib, Hetty switched off the lamp, leaving only the pink glow of a night-light. She waved him out and pulled the door almost closed. Then, turning to confront him, she said flatly, “No. Don’t even think of it.”

“What, you don’t drive?”

“Of course I drive. I’ve been driving since I was thirteen, only not in strange cities where there’s all this traffic and I don’t know my way around. For as much time as I’ll be here, it’s hardly worth renting something.”

He hadn’t been planning to rent her a car, he’d planned to buy her one. Something small enough to be manageable, but big enough to be safe. He dismissed the idea of public transportation out of hand. Too much waiting around in cold, damp weather. “I’ll get you a city map. Lina can take you out a few times and show you how to locate the closest shopping center, things like that.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think so.”

He didn’t argue. That didn’t mean he’d given up, it only meant that his timing was off. He would wait a few days. “One of the houses we’ll be checking
out tomorrow is located on the Intracoastal Waterway, not far from where I keep my boat. I thought we’d save that one until last, and then I’ll introduce you ladies to the
Lizzie-Linda.
”

“I’d like that. A friend of mine has a bass boat he tows miles and miles to this fishing camp? He keeps inviting me to go fishing, but I’ve never had time.”

She sounded wistful. As if she would have liked to go, and maybe not just for the fishing. He wondered who the jerk was, and told himself his boat was bigger than any flashy little freshwater outboard. “You understand,
Lizzie
isn’t in the water yet—she still needs a lot of work, but she’s going to be a real beauty once I get her back to her original condition. She’s fifty-five foot eight with an eighteen-foot beam.”

Her smile was the kind of smile that made him wonder if he was bragging too much. Come to think of it, it did sound pretty juvenile. The “mine’s bigger than yours” syndrome.

“Want some coffee before you go?”

“No, thanks.” What he wanted wasn’t coffee or platitudes or even conversation. What he wanted was to wrap her in his arms and kiss her until neither of them had the strength to stand or the will to resist. And then he wanted to take her to bed and make love to her. Quick, hard love, followed by slow, sensuous love. And when they were both too exhausted to explore further, he wanted to hold her while she slept.

Help! Man overboard.

He collected his coat and turned toward the door.

Silently she watched him prepare to leave.

And then he turned back.

The apartment was small. Five steps and he was standing in front of her, so close he could feel her warmth, inhale the soap-and-lotion smell of her skin. Dropping his coat, he gathered her into his arms and buried his face in her hair.

“Don’t ask me what’s going on here, I’m damned if I know,” he muttered against her ear. “The only thing I’m sure of is that if I don’t kiss you right now, the sky’s going to fall.” He shot her a whimsical grin. “You don’t want to be responsible for the collapse of the universe, do you?”

She shook her head, then nodded, then lifted her face to his. Their eyes met and held, and if he’d been conked on the head by a falling star, he wouldn’t have noticed.

Slow and easy, a dim voice in the back of his mind cautioned. Don’t try to grab more than she’s ready to give.

He touched his parted lips to hers. Slow and easy lasted for all of five seconds, and then he groaned, twisted his head and thrust his tongue into the sweet warmth of her mouth. Fiercely, instantly aroused, he pressed his groin against her pelvic mound. Sweet, mind-numbing torment. Every brain cell he possessed was focused on the region just below his belt.

The kiss went as far as a kiss could possibly go. Farther. It wasn’t enough. Without breaking contact, he tried to reach the buttons of her shirt, gave it up and cradled her breasts through layers of clothing. She
pressed herself into his hands, whimpering against his mouth.

“Ah, sweet, sweet,” he muttered incoherently against her lips. His shaking hands skimmed down her body, cradling her hips to hold her against him. It still wasn’t enough, he had to get closer.

Broken thoughts raced through his mind like cloud shadows on a windy day, then he gave up trying to think. It was a clear sign of how far off course he’d strayed. Reason was his middle name. Reason, logic, caution were the rules he lived by.

“Sweetheart, do you think the bed—?” His voice sounded like tearing canvas.

“We’d wake the baby.” Hers, like whispering silk.

“A blanket on the floor?” He couldn’t stand the thought of her naked skin against that hideous fake Oriental rug.

“The sofa opens up into a double bed,” she offered, coming to the rescue.

They managed to get the thing open. Jax prayed it wouldn’t collapse under them. If it did, he doubted either of them would notice.

“Take off your—here, let me,” he said at the same time Hetty began fumbling at the buttons on his shirt. Together they managed to undress, hands tangling in haste, breathless laughter interspersed with more kisses.

Intoxicated. He was drunk on lo—

On lust.

She was as eager as he was. They fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Jax did his best to spare her his
weight, but with Hetty reaching for him, pulling him down to rest between her thighs, there was no way he could hold off. She was ready for him. Warm, wet and wild. He entered her swiftly and then lay still while she twisted and writhed beneath him.

As a woman she was quiet, modest, sensible.

As a lover, she was totally uninhibited.

The last shred of control broke, and the race was on. Separately and together they hurtled toward the finish line. Time and space telescoped into one fiercely burning point of pleasure that swooped closer, closer…

The sound of harsh breathing. Gasping. Someone shouted—or maybe they both did—and then they collapsed together, all limp limbs and winded, damp bodies.

Jax felt as if he’d been caught by a storm surge and flung hard against a seawall. As soon as he could find the strength he rolled onto his side, carrying her with him. He refused to let her go.

He might never let her go.

They slept. How long, neither of them could have said, but the sound of a plaintive wail from the next room brought Hetty around. “Oh, mercy, I forgot…”

“I’ll do it,” Jax muttered drowsily.

“Do what?” Was that a note of regret he detected in her voice?

He opened his eyes. “Do—whatever it is that needs doing.”

“Fine, then I’ll take care of Sunny while you get
dressed. Have a shower first if you want to, but then you’d better leave.”

He blinked, sat up and raked his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t ready to leave. Wasn’t at all sure he could make it as far as her bathroom, much less down those steep, narrow stairs. “I could stay over.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” she said quietly, making him wonder if she was already regretting it. The last time they’d made love, he’d been the one to flee in panic. He’d stayed away for two days, afraid to come around again because he wasn’t ready to talk about it, and women always wanted to talk things to death.

Hetty hadn’t mentioned it at all. From the way she’d reacted when he finally showed up, you’d have thought they’d spent a quiet evening at the public library instead of making wild, passionate love.

She was stonewalling. He knew the signs. Watching her gather up her scattered clothes and disappear into the bedroom, he wanted to yell after her, “What the hell is going on here?”

But he didn’t. Trained legal mind. Too much pride. This time it was his pride, not hers. His fault for expecting too much. For expecting anything at all.

Dressing quickly, Jax made up his mind to hire the first halfway suitable candidate he could find to look after his daughter, and let Ms. Oklahoma go back where she belonged.

He was on his way out when Hetty opened the bedroom door. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were suspiciously glittery and there was a beard burn on the left side of her neck. “Do you still want me to
look at houses tomorrow?” She obviously expected him to back out.

“Sure, why not?” Two could play at this game. If she didn’t care, then he didn’t care twice as much!

It was one of those days sent to lend hope after a rugged winter. Late pansies, early forsythia and a few bold crocuses under a clear sky. Sunny wore her new yellow snowsuit. All strapped into her carrier, she grinned up at him, showing off the two pearly nubs on her lower gum.

Hetty was wearing the same drab all-weather coat. The thing was padded; she could have been built like a refrigerator and it wouldn’t have shown.

There were shadows under her eyes.

There were shadows in her smile, but she said brightly, “Sunny wants to announce another tooth is on the way.”

If that was the way she wanted to play it, then Jax was willing. More than willing. A messy relationship was something he could do without. “I foresee a long line of dentist bills ahead.”

“Try the barter system. Find a good dentist and trade him legal advice for dental care.”

“Unless he has a boat, my legal services won’t do him much good.”

“I thought lawyers were interchangeable. One size fits all.”

“Bite your tongue, lady. You think doctors are the only profession that specializes?”

They were back to bantering. That was fine with him. Keep it light, make it brief.

The first house was located about halfway between his office and his present apartment. A small brick Georgian, it was set on a tiny lot and smothered by overgrown boxwood hedges. The saleswoman, aptly named Julia Houser, was holding forth on the rate of appreciation. “So you see, it’s a wonderful investment.”

“I’m not particularly looking for an investment.”

“There’s a darling powder room tucked away under the stairs.”

Jax, holding the baby, dutifully followed Ms. Houser through the house, from basement to two-car garage. “Central vacuum system,” the woman said. “Your wife will love that.”

Jax nodded glumly. Hetty said nothing. Her arms were crossed over her breasts.

“Why don’t we look at the other place,” he said, which was a little more polite than, “No thanks, no way, not interested.”