A touch of love (20 page)

"Yeah. Right. Blame everything on me." Jesse started for the door. "I wanted to take you out to dinner, but I've lost my appetite. I don't care whether or not you get up. In fact, why don't you stay in bed until tomorrow, and it will save me the trouble of avoiding you."

Jesse strode out of the room, leaving Aubrey to ponder the wisdom of her actions alone. Certain she had had little choice about confronting Caine, she got up and went into the bathroom to shower, then dressed in aqua leggings and a matching sweater. She and Jesse were both stubborn and independent, so it wasn't surprising that their partnership had swiftly degenerated into a power struggle, but as she made up her bed, she could not help but be sorry.

As she came down the stairs, she noticed Jesse reading the Times in the living room and went into the kitchen to fix herself some supper without bothering to ask if he would like to join her. He had already made it plain that he wouldn't, but still, she thought it ridiculous for them to eat separately. She looked through her refrigerator and cupboards and decided to make a salad and pasta.

She diced some celery, bell pepper, and onions, and browned them in a saucepan before opening ajar of thick tomato and herb sauce. While she boiled the water to cook the pasta, she made the salad, taking care to make plenty, should Jesse deign to join her. She really didn't want him staying in her house if he wasn't going to speak with her. It was her house afterall, and she had every right to boot him right out of it.

Despite his earlier protests to the contrary, the delectable aroma wafting from the kitchen teased Jesse's senses and

his stomach began to growl. He was going to have to eat, and that meant either having something delivered, or dining on whatever Aubrey was preparing.

Getting up was the hardest part, but once he was on his feet, he managed a nonchalant stroll into the kitchen. He sent a deliberately casual glance toward the stove. "What are you cooking?''

"Meatloaf," Aubrey lied, "and because I know it isn't one of your favorites, I'll forgive you for not joining me."

"You don't eat meat, Aubrey, or have you forgotten?"

* 'No, but for some reason, I was overcome with a perverse desire to bake a meatloaf."

Aubrey hadn't looked at him once, and while Jesse knew she was the one who was in the wrong rather than he, he decided to be gracious. "I'm still angry with you, but what do you say to calling a truce for the dinner hour?"

Aubrey had a difficult time controlling the width of her smile. "Then what? Do you plan to again ignore me the minute you finish dessert?"

"Let's just play it by ear."

"You're choosing convenience over principle merely until your stomach's full; is that what you're saying?"

Jesse hadn't realized how his offer had sounded, and backpedaled a bit. "No, not exactly. I don't approve of what you did, but you can't take it back, so why don't we just make the best of it?"

Aubrey carried the pot of boiling water over to the sink and stained the pasta through the waiting colander. "I doubt that you'd like spinach pasta anyway."

"Spinach pasta?" The very thought made Jesse gag, but he walked over to the sink and eyed the green noodles. "How do they taste?"

"Delicious." Aubrey handed him a fork and observed his expression closely as he sampled one. He flinched

slightly, but chewed, and swallowed without any ill effects. "Well?"

"I guess they're all right.''

"Is that a real 'all right,' or an 'all right' as in they'll do when you're trapped playing bodyguard and there's nothing else to eat?"

She had him there, but Jesse refused to admit it. "Isn't it the sauce that makes the dish?"

"Sure is. Would you care to taste it?"

Jesse didn't like the evil gleam in her eye, and feared she had cooked up something godawful just to spite him. He leaned over the stove, dipped his fork in the bubbling sauce, and took a tiny taste. When he found it wasn't laced with enough garlic to curl his eyelashes, he nodded appreciatively.

"I do believe I mentioned earlier that you're one hell of a cook."

He had called her one hell of a woman, but Aubrey didn't correct him. She took the compliment to mean that he would join her for supper, and she quickly set the table for two. She divided the tossed salad in half, then asked him to serve his own plate so that he would be sure to have enough. He took a more generous portion than she had expected, and she again wondered if he was getting enough to eat. Not wanting to hear a sarcastic answer, she kept the question to herself and sat down at the table.

Jesse slid into his place beside her. "Do you usually eat alone?" he asked.

"I don't mind. I watch the news or read. I'm never lonely."

"Never?" Jesse caught her gaze and held it.

"Let's put it this way, I'm not nearly as lonely now as when I was married."

Jesse thought that was one of the saddest comments he had ever heard. "You have friends though."

Aubrey kept her attention focused on her plate. "Yes. I'm blessed with several really close friends and we try and keep in touch even if we aren't able to get together as often as we'd like."

"Sure. Everyone's busy with work and family."

"Hmm." Aubrey had much less, but ate more slowly than Jesse, and they finished dinner at the same time. "Help yourself to the frozen yogurt and lemon bars. I'm going to wait until later. I need to look over my outline for Saturday's seminar."

She left the table before he could stop her, and found containers for the leftover pasta and sauce. Jesse brought their dishes to the sink, and she tugged on her rubber gloves and began to rinse them. She wasn't used to having someone else in her kitchen, and bumped into him as she reached for the dishwasher.

"Sorry." Jesse moved over to the stove, then again felt in the way when Aubrey came over to collect the pot and pan. "You did all the cooking. I should be doing the dishes."

"They're no trouble." Aubrey didn't want another angry confrontation, nor did she want to lose herself in him again, but she was exquisitely aware of his presence. He was a larger than life figure in so many ways, and the two of them filled the kitchen no matter where they stood. Finished cleaning up, she yanked off the gloves and laid them on the counter, but when she turned away from the sink, Jesse blocked her way.

"Wait a minute," he asked. "I'm not sure what's happening here, but I got you into this, so I suppose it's stupid of me to be angry with you for getting ahead of me. I'm fairly good at reading people, so I'll meet with Caine tomorrow. That way you needn't become involved with him afterall."

"That's very considerate of you, but completely mis-

guided. I'm the one who made the appointment, and while I assumed you'd go along with me, I won't let you go alone. That's absolutely out of the question. Besides, if you leave me here, who's to say Caine won't send someone to try and harm me again while you're gone?"

Jesse released a frustrated sigh. He couldn't argue when everything Aubrey said made sense. "I wish I had some alternative plan to propose, but you may be right. Confronting Harlan Caine is the only option we have."

Aubrey flashed a delighted smile. "I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking."

If there was any thing Jesse hated, it was being outsmarted by a woman. "Oh, really? Well, you're never going to get me to say that I actually liked that weird green pasta. What's the matter with plain spaghetti?"

Aubrey knew enough not to continue to gloat over her victory, and quickly stepped by him. "Nothing. Now you'll have to excuse me. I really do need to study my notes. I'll see you in the morning."

Jesse's eyes widened in surprise, but Aubrey left the room before he could think fast enough to stop her. He had been too angry earlier to consider their sleeping arrangements, but clearly she had just banished him to the den and he didn't like that one bit. He picked up the rubber gloves and whacked them against the counter with a vicious slap, but that didn't do nearly enough to cool his temper. Consoling himself with frozen yogurt and lemon bars, he went into the den and flipped on the television, but after sleeping with Aubrey, he knew the entertainment on the tube was going to seem awfully tame.

Aubrey did indeed need to review her notes. She used the same basic outline for each of her seminars, but because the character of each group was slightly different,

she always revised her presentation to better serve the particular audience's needs. She didn't allow herself to think of Jesse until she had finished preparing, and then she found herself exactly where she had been that morning.

Jesse had such an appealing exuberance. She had never met anyone who even remotely resembled him. Knowing him was definitely going to be a memorable experience, but bittersweet in its brevity. "Don't let him get to you," she cautioned herself, but deep down, she feared that he already had.

She left the study, went up to her room, and read before preparing for bed, but it took a long while to get to sleep. She awakened once, long after midnight, and found Jesse standing in her doorway silhouetted against the soft glow of the nightlight burning in the hall. His face veiled in shadow, his mood was impossible to discern; but clad only in low-slung Levi's, he was a stirring sight. A fierce longing welled up inside Aubrey and she hoped he would come to her, but she remained motionless, observing him through her lashes until he at last turned away and went downstairs.

She could have called out to him, but didn't. There was too great a risk he had merely been resdess and wanted to make certain she was all right, nothing more. She burrowed down under the covers and wondered if the open door had in itself been an unconscious invitation. Obviously Jesse had not considered it such, or had refused it. She was glad then that she hadn't spoken and necessitated an embarrassing exchange with a polite invitation and an equally polite refusal.

Jesse wasn't Larry, she reminded herself, but it was so difficult not to be overwhelmed by the old hurts. She longed to be held and loved with all the tender promises Larry had made and not kept. Jesse was unlikely to be

moved to make promises of any kind, and she refused to coax lies from his lips with affectionate words of her own. Jesse was the kind who reveled in his freedom, and while the idea of scorching her initials on his butt in a loving brand was incredibly appealing, it belonged in the realm of fantasy with her dashing Indian brave.

Jesse was again waiting in the kitchen when Aubrey came downstairs for breakfast. She was wearing a pair of white pants with a watermelon-pink shell and a black shirt with a deep V-neckline and high side slits as a jacket. Fashioned of sandwashed silks, it was a stunning outfit, and she nodded to acknowledge Jesse's low whisde.

'Tm trying to appear attractive in a soft, non-threatening way. From your reaction, I'd say I've succeeded."

"And then some. Do you suppose you could take that litde tape recorder of yours and use it without Caine catching on?"

"I can try. I was hoping that you'd help me frame some apparendy innocuous questions to put him at ease. If he's relaxed rather .than wary, perhaps he'll let something slip. This has to be preying on his mind. Doesn't it?"

"If he were the squeamish type, he wouldn't have murdered four people in the first place."

"I suppose you're right. Do you think he drives a gold Corvette?"

' T seriously doubt it I'll bet he has some flunky following us."

"An accomplice?" She had seen two vague shapes in the vision prompted by the Christmas photograph.

Jesse left the table and came over to the counter. "Could be. There's still time for you to back out, and I'll take him on alone. He can't be any worse than an enraged bull."

Aubrey refused to even consider staying home. She carried a glass of juice to the table, then brought a small

notebook from her study. "I'd like to know what became of the money your cousin invested."

Jesse refilled his juice glass and then returned to his place at the table. "So would I, but let's not hit him with that question first. Let's begin with how he happened to meet Pete, and then get a description of the project in which he invested."

Aubrey made a few quick notes. "Right. Then the question about money seems more natural. We ought to have a signal so if either of us wants to leave, the other will understand and go along."

Jesse glanced out toward the patio. Lucifer was again asleep on the glass table. "Doesn't that cat do anything but sleep?"

"Not much. Cats have a high-protein diet and it requires a great deal of their energy simply to digest their food. I know, let's say we have to leave to take Lucifer to the vet."

"Yeah, that's good, but let's try to keep Caine talking for fifteen to twenty minutes at least. Then when we go back to the parking lot, remind me to check underneath the truck for a bomb."

Aubrey shuddered. "God help us."

"This was your bright idea, remember?"

Aubrey couldn't deny it, but she knew if she had to walk into the lion's den, she couldn't ask for a better champion to defend her. "Does Caine know you're Pete's cousin?"

Jesse frowned slightly. "I don't see how he could. I wasn't identified in the recent Times article, and we've not discussed the case with anyone except the police. Some of Pete's neighbors, like Roberta Smaus, might remember that we were related, but what are the chances that Caine's talked with any of them?"

"I wouldn't put anything past him, but if he doesn't know you're Pete's cousin, and therefore have a more

urgent need to know what's become of the Ferrells than I would, let's not volunteer the information.''

"You want me to just play the 'unidentified male escort' again?"

"Think about it. If we don't appear in the least bit threatening, it should work to our advantage."

"Yeah. It could," Jesse reluctantly agreed. He recalled how difficult it had been to get Aubrey interested in finding his cousins, but now that she was, she sure wasn't letting anything get in her way, including him. While that wasn't a pleasant thought, he was desperate enough to give anything a try.