Hard to Handle (19 page)

Apparently they were. Alexander was staring at her mouth with an odd expression. His chest was rising and falling very quickly. She could see the motion of it through his white shirt and dinner jacket.

She moved closer, draping herself against him as she’d seen that
slinky blond woman in the red dress do it. She moved her leg against his and felt his whole body stiffen abruptly.

Her hands went to the front of his shirt under the jacket. She drew her fingers down it, feeling the ripple of muscle. His big hands caught her shoulders, but he wasn’t pushing.

“You look at me, but you never see me,” she murmured. Her lips brushed against his throat. He smelled of expensive cologne and soap. “I’m not pretty. I’m not sexy. But I would die for you…!”

His hard mouth cut off the words. He curled her into his body with a rigid arm at her back, and his mouth opened against her moist, full, parted lips with the fury of a summer storm.

It wasn’t premeditated. The feel of her against him had triggered a raging arousal in his muscular body. He went in headfirst, without thinking of the consequences.

If he was helpless, so was she. As he enveloped her against him, her arms slid around his warm body under the jacket and her mouth answered the hunger of his. She made a husky little moan that apparently made matters worse. His mouth became suddenly insistent, as if he heard the need in her soft cry and was doing his best to satisfy the hunger it betrayed.

Her hands lifted to the back of his head and her fingers dug into his scalp as she arched her body upward in a hopeless plea.

He whispered something that she couldn’t understand before he bent and lifted her, with her mouth still trapped under his demanding lips, and carried her to the sofa.

He spread her body onto the cold leather and slid over it, one powerful leg inserting itself between both of hers in a frantic, furious exchange of passion. He’d never known such raging need, not only in himself, but in Jodie. She was liquid in his embrace, yielding to everything he asked without a word being spoken.

He moved slightly, just enough to get his hand in between them. It smoothed over her collarbone and down into the soft dip of her dress, over the lacy bra she was wearing underneath. He felt the hard little nipple in his palm as he increased the insistent pressure of the caress and heard her cry of delight go into his open mouth.

Her hands were on the buttons of his shirt. It was dangerous. It was reckless. She’d incited him to madness, and he couldn’t stop. When he felt the buttons give, and her hands speared into the thick hair over his chest, he groaned harshly. His body shivered with desire.

His mouth ground into hers as his leg moved between hers. One lean hand went under her hips and gathered her up against the fierce arousal of his body, moving her against him in a blatant physical statement of intent.

Jodie’s head was spinning. All her dreams of love were coming true. Alexander wanted her! She could feel the insistent pressure of his body over hers. He was kissing her as if he’d die to have her, and she gloried in the fury of his hunger. She relaxed with a husky little laugh and kissed him back languidly, feeling her body melt under him, melt into him. She was on fire, burning with unfamiliar needs, drowning in unfamiliar sensations that made her whole body tingle with pleasure. She lifted her hips against his and gasped at the blatant contact.

Alexander lifted his head and looked at her. His face was a rigid mask. Only his green eyes were alive in it, glittering down at her in a rasping, unsteady silence of merged breathing.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, moving her hips again.

He was tempted. It showed. But that iron control wouldn’t let him slip into carelessness. She’d been drinking. In fact, she was smashed. He had his own suspicions about her innocence, and
they wouldn’t shut up. His body was begging him to forget her lack of experience and give it relief. But his will was too strong. He was the man in control. It was his responsibility to protect her, even from himself.

“You’re drunk, Jodie,” he said. His voice was faintly unsteady, but it was terse and firm.

“Does it matter?” she asked lazily.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

He moved away, getting to his feet. He looked down at her sprawled body in its disheveled dress and he ached all the way to his toes. But he couldn’t do this. Not when she was so vulnerable.

She sighed and closed her eyes. It had been so sweet, lying in his arms. She smiled dreamily. Was she dreaming?

“Get up, for God’s sake!” he snapped.

When her eyes opened, he was standing her firmly on her feet. “You’re going to bed, right now, before you make an utter fool of yourself!”

She blinked, staring up at him. “I can’t go to bed. Who’ll do the dishes?”

“Jodie!”

She giggled, trying to lean against him. He thrust her away and took her arm, moving her toward the door. “I told Francisco I was the cook. That’s me,” she drawled cheerfully. “Cook, bottle-washer, best friend and household slave.” She laughed louder.

He propelled her out the door, back down the hall toward the staircase, and urged her up it. She was still giggling a little too loudly for comfort, but the noise of the music from the living room covered it nicely.

He got her to the guest room she was occupying and put her inside. “Go to bed,” he said through his teeth.

She leaned against the door facing, totally at sea. “You could come inside,” she murmured wickedly. “There’s a bed.”

“You need one,” he agreed tersely. “Go get in it.”

“Always bossing me around,” she sighed. “Don’t you like kissing me, Alexander?”

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning,” he assured her.

She yawned, her mind going around in circles, like the room. “I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“Great idea.”

He started to walk out.

“Could you send Francisco up, please?” she taunted. “I’d like to lie down and discuss race cars with him.”

“In your dreams!” he said coldly.

He actually slammed the door, totally out of patience, self-control and tact. He waited a minute, to make sure she didn’t try to come back out. But there was only the sound of slow progress toward the bed and a sudden loud whoosh. When he opened the door again and peeked in, she was lying facedown in her dress on the covers, sound asleep. He closed the door again, determined not to get close to her a second time. He went back to the party, feeling as if he’d had his stomach punched. He couldn’t imagine what had possessed him to let Jodie tempt him into indiscretion. His lack of control worried him so much that he was twice as attentive to Kirry as he usually was.

When he saw her up to her room, after the party was over, he kissed her with intent. She was perfectly willing, but his body let him down. He couldn’t manage any interest at all.

“You’re just tired,” she assured him with a worldly smile. “We have all the time in the world. Sleep tight.”

“Sure. You, too.”

He left her and went back downstairs. He was restless, angry at his attack of impotence with the one woman who was capable of curing it. Or, at least, he imagined she was. He and Kirry had never been lovers, although they’d come close at one time. Now, she was a pleasant companion from time to time, a bauble to show off, to take around town. It infuriated him that he could be whole with Jodie, who was almost certainly a virgin, and he couldn’t even function with a sophisticated woman like Kirry. Maybe it was his age.

The rattle of plates caught his attention. He moved toward the sound and found a distressed Margie in the kitchen trying to put dishes in the dishwasher.

“That doesn’t look right,” he commented with a frown when he noticed the lack of conformity in the way she was tossing plates and bowls and cups and crystal all together. “You’ll break the crystal.”

She glared at him. “Well, what do I know about washing dishes?” she exclaimed. “That’s why we have Jessie!”

He cocked his head. “You’re out of sorts.”

She pushed back her red-tinged dark hair angrily. “Yes, I’m out of sorts! Kirry said she doesn’t think I’m ready to show my collection yet. She said her store had shows booked for the rest of the year, and she couldn’t help me!”

“All that buttering up and dragging Jodie down here to work, for nothing,” he said sarcastically.

“Where is Jodie?” she demanded. “I haven’t seen her for two hours, and here’s all this work that isn’t getting done except by me!”

He leaned back against the half open door and stared at his sister. “She’s passed out on her bed, dead drunk,” he said distastefully. “After trying to seduce the world’s number one race car driver, and then me.”

Margie stood up and stared back. “You?”

“I wish I could impress on you how tired I am of finding Jodie underfoot every time I walk into my own house,” he said coldly. “We can’t have a party without her, we can’t have a holiday without her. My own birthday means an invitation! Why can’t you just hire a cook when you need one instead of landing me with your erstwhile best friend?”

“I thought you liked Jodie, a little,” Margie stammered.

“She’s blue collar, Margie,” he persisted, still smarting under his loss of control and furious that Jodie was responsible for it. “She’ll never fit in our circles, no matter how much you try to force her into them. She was telling people tonight that she was the cook, and it’s not far wrong. She’s a social disaster with legs. She knows nothing about our sort of lifestyle, she can’t carry on a decent conversation and she dresses like a homeless person. It’s an embarrassment to have her here!”

Margie sighed miserably. “I hope you haven’t said things like that to her, Lex,” she worried. “She may not be an upper class sort of person, but she’s sweet and kind, and she doesn’t gossip. She’s the only real friend I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve behaved much like one,” she added sadly.

“You should have friends in your own class,” he said coldly. “I don’t want Jodie invited down here again,” he added firmly, holding up a hand when Margie tried to speak. “I mean it. You find some excuse, but you keep her away from here. I’m not going to be stalked by your bag lady of a friend. I don’t want her underfoot at any more holidays, and God forbid, at my birthday party! If you want to see her, drive to Houston, fly to Houston, stay in Houston! But don’t bring her here anymore.”

“Did she really try to seduce you?” Margie wondered aloud.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said flatly. “It was embarrassing.”

“She’ll probably be horrified when she wakes up and remembers what happened. Whatever did,” Margie added, fishing.

“I’ll be horrified for months myself. Kirry is my steady girl,” he added deliberately. “I’m not hitting on some other woman behind her back, and Jodie should have known it. Not that it seemed to matter to her, about me or the married racer.”

“She’s never had a drink, as far as I know,” Margie ventured gently. “She’s not like our mother, Lex.”

His face closed up. Jodie’s behavior had aroused painful memories of his mother, who drank often, and to excess. She was a constant embarrassment anytime people came to the house, and she delighted in embarrassing her son any way possible. Jodie’s unmanageable silliness brought back nightmares.

“There’s nothing in the world more disgusting than a drunk woman,” he said aloud. “Nothing that makes me sicker to my stomach.”

Margie closed the dishwasher and started it. There was a terrible cracking sound. The crystal! She winced. “I don’t care what’s broken. I’m not a cook. I can’t wash dishes. I’m a dress designer!”

“Hire help for Jessie,” he said.

“Okay,” she said, giving in. “I won’t invite Jodie back again. But how do I tell her, Lex? She’s never going to understand. And it will hurt her.”

He knew that. He couldn’t bear to know it. His face hardened. “Just keep her away from me. I don’t care how.”

“I’ll think of something,” Margie said weakly.

Outside in the hall, a white-faced Jodie was stealthily making
her way back to the staircase. She’d come down belatedly to do the dishes, still tingling hours after Alexander’s feverish lovemaking. She’d been floating, delirious with hope that he might have started to see her in a different light. And then she’d heard what he said. She’d heard every single word. She disgusted him. She was such a social disaster, in fact, that he never wanted her to come to the house again. She’d embarrassed him and made a fool of herself.

He was right. She’d behaved stupidly, and now she was going to pay for it by being an outcast. The only family she had no longer wanted her.

She went back to her room, closed the door quietly, and picked up the telephone. She changed her airplane ticket for an early-morning flight.

The next morning, she went to Margie’s room at daybreak. She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d packed and changed her clothes, and now she was ready to go.

“Will you drive me to the airport?” she asked her sleepy friend. “Or do you want me to ask Johnny?”

Margie sat up, blinking. Then she remembered Lex’s odd comments and her own shame at how she’d treated her best friend. She flushed.

“I’ll drive you,” Margie said at once. “But don’t you want to wait until after breakfast?” She flushed again, remembering that Jodie would have had to cook it.

“I’m not hungry. There’s leftover sausage and bacon in the fridge, along with some biscuits. You can just heat them up. Alexander can cook eggs to go with them,” she added, almost choking on his name.

Margie felt guilty. “You’re upset,” she ventured.

Keeping quiet was the hardest thing Jodie had ever done. “I got drunk last night and did some…really stupid things,” she summarized. “I’d just like to go home, Margie. Okay?”

Margie tried not to let her relief show. Jodie was leaving without a fuss. Lex would be pleased, and she’d be off the hook. She smiled. “Okay. I’ll just get dressed, and then we’ll go!”

I
f running away seemed the right thing to do, actually doing it became complicated the minute Jodie went down the staircase with her suitcase.

The last thing she’d expected was to find the cause of her flight standing in the hall watching her. She ground her teeth together to keep from speaking.

Alexander was leaning against the banister, and he looked both uncomfortable and concerned when he saw Jodie’s pale complexion and swollen eyelids.

He stood upright, scowling. “I’m driving Kirry back to Houston this afternoon,” he said at once, noting Jodie’s suitcase. “You can ride with us.”

Jodie forced a quiet smile. Her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “Thanks for the offer, Alexander, but I have an airplane ticket.”

“Then I’ll drive you to the airport,” he added quietly.

Her face tightened. She swallowed down her hurt. “Thanks, but Margie’s already dressed and ready to go. And we have some things to talk about on the way,” she added before he could offer again.

He watched her uneasily. Jodie was acting like a fugitive evading the police. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, or let him near her. He’d had all night to regret his behavior, and he was still blaming her for it. He’d overreacted. He knew she’d had a crush on him at one time. He’d hurt her with his cold rejection. She’d been drinking. It hadn’t been her fault, but he’d blamed her for the whole fiasco. He felt guilty because of the way she looked.

Before he could say anything else, Margie came bouncing down the steps. “Okay, I’m ready! Let’s go,” she told Jodie.

“I’m right behind you. So long, Alexander,” she told him without looking up past his top shirt button.

He didn’t reply. He stood watching until the front door closed behind her. He still didn’t understand his own conflicting emotions. He’d hoped to have some time alone with Jodie while he explored this suddenly changed relationship between them. But she was clearly embarrassed about her behavior the night before, and she was running scared. Probably letting her go was the best way to handle it. After a few days, he’d go to see her at the office and smooth things over. He couldn’t bear having her look that way and knowing he was responsible for it. Regardless of his burst of bad temper, he cared about Jodie. He didn’t want her to be hurt.

“You look very pale, Jodie,” Margie commented when she walked her best friend to the security checkpoint. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m embarrassed about how I acted last night, that’s all,” she assured her best friend. “How did you luck out with Kirry, by the way?”

“Not too well,” she replied with a sigh. “And I think I broke all the crystal by putting it in the dishwasher.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do that for you,” Jodie apologized.

“It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault.” Margie looked tormented. “I was going to ask you down to Lex’s birthday party next month…”

“Margie, I can’t really face Alexander right now, okay?” she interrupted gently, and saw the relief plain on the taller woman’s face. “So I’m going to make myself scarce for a little while.”

“That might be best,” Margie had to admit.

Jodie smiled. “Thanks for asking me to the party,” she managed. “I had a good time.”

That was a lie, and they both knew it.

“I’ll make all this up to you one day, I promise I will,” Margie said unexpectedly, and hugged Jodie, hard. “I’m not much of a friend, Jodie, but I’m going to change. I am. You’ll see.”

“I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I wanted to remake you,” Jodie replied, smiling. “I’ll see you around, Margie,” she added enigmatically, and left before Margie could ask what she meant.

It was a short trip back to Houston. Jodie fought tears all the way. She couldn’t remember anything hurting so much in all her life. Alexander couldn’t bear the sight of her. He didn’t want her around. She made him sick. She…disgusted him.

Most of her memories of love swirled around Alexander Cobb. She’d daydreamed about him even before she realized her feelings had deepened into love. She treasured unexpected meetings with him, she tingled just from having him smile at her. But all that had been a lie. She was a responsibility he took seriously, like his job. She meant nothing more than that to him. It was a painful realization, and it was going to take time for the hurt to lessen.

But for the moment it was too painful to bear. She drew the air
carrier’s magazine out of its pocket in the back of the seat ahead of her and settled back to read it. By the time she finished, the plane was landing. She walked through the Houston concourse with a new resolution. She was going to forget Alexander. It was time to put away the past and start fresh.

Alexander was alone in the library when his sister came back from the airport.

He went out into the hall to meet her. “Did she say anything to you?” he asked at once.

Surprised by the question, and his faint anxiety, she hesitated. “About what?”

He glowered down at her. “About why she was leaving abruptly. I know her ticket was for late this afternoon. She must have changed it.”

“She said she was too embarrassed to face you,” Margie replied.

“Anything else?” he persisted.

“Not really.” She felt uneasy herself. “You know Jodie. She’s painfully shy, Lex. She doesn’t drink, ever. I guess whatever happened made her ashamed of herself and uncomfortable around you. She’ll get over it in time.”

“Do you think so?” he wondered aloud.

“What are you both doing down here?” Kirry asked petulantly with a yawn. She came down the staircase in a red silk gown and black silk robe and slippers, her long blond hair sweeping around her shoulders. “I feel as if I haven’t even slept. Is breakfast ready?”

Margie started. “Well, Jessie isn’t here,” she began.

“Where’s that little cook who was at the party last night?” she asked carelessly. “Why can’t she make breakfast?”

“Jodie’s not a cook,” Alexander said tersely. “She’s Margie’s best friend.”

Kirry’s eyebrows arched. “She looked like a lush to me,” Kirry said unkindly. “People like that should never drink. Is she too hung over to cook, then?”

“She’s gone home,” Margie said, resenting Kirry’s remarks.

“Then who’s going to make toast and coffee for me?” Kirry demanded. “I have to have breakfast.”

“I can make toast,” Margie said, turning. She wanted Kirry’s help with her collection, but she disliked the woman intensely.

“Then I’ll get dressed. Want to come up and do my zip, Lex?” Kirry drawled.

“No,” he said flatly. “I’ll make coffee.” He went into the kitchen behind Margie.

Kirry stared after him blankly. He’d never spoken to her in such a way before, and Margie had been positively rude. They shouldn’t drink, either, she was thinking as she went back upstairs to dress. Obviously it was hangovers and bad tempers all around this morning.

Two weeks later, Jodie sat in on a meeting between Brody and an employee of their information systems section who had been rude and insulting to a fellow worker. It was Brody’s job as Human Resources Generalist to oversee personnel matters, and he was a diplomat. It gave Jodie the chance to see what sort of duties she would be expected to perform if she moved up from Human Resources Generalist to manager.

“Mr. Koswalski, this is Ms. Clayburn, my administrative assistant. She’s here to take notes,” he added.

Jodie was surprised, because she thought she was there to learn
the job. But she smiled and pulled out her small pad and pen, perching it on her knee.

“You’ve had a complaint about me, haven’t you?” Koswalski asked with a sigh.

Brody’s eyebrows arched. “Well, yes…”

“One of our executives hired a systems specialist with no practical experience in oil exploration,” Koswalski told him. “I was preparing an article for inclusion in our quarterly magazine and the system went down. She was sent to repair it. She saw my article and made some comments about the terms I used, and how unprofessional they sounded. Obviously she didn’t understand the difference between a rigger and a roughneck. When I tried to explain, she accused me of talking down to her and walked out.” He threw up his hands. “Sir, I wasn’t rude, and I wasn’t uncooperative. I was trying to teach her the language of the industry.”

Brody looked as if he meant to say something, but he glanced at Jodie and cleared his throat instead. “You didn’t call her names, Mr. Koswalski?”

“No, sir, I did not,” the young man replied courteously. “But she did call me several. Besides that, quite frankly, she had a glazed look in her eyes and a red nose.” His face tautened. “Mr. Vance, I’ve seen too many people who use drugs to mistake signs of drug use. She didn’t repair the system, she made matters worse. I had to call in another specialist to undo her damage. I have his name, and his assignment,” he added, producing a slip of paper, which he handed to Brody. “I’m sorry to make a countercharge of incompetence against another employee, but my integrity is at stake.”

Brody took the slip of paper and read the name. He looked at the younger man again. “I know this technician. He’s the best we have. He’ll confirm what you just told me?”

“He will, Mr. Vance.”

Brody nodded. “I’ll check with him and make some investigation of your charges. You’ll be notified when we have a resolution. Thank you, Mr. Koswalski.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vance,” the young man replied, standing. “I enjoy my job very much. If I lose it, it should be on merit, not lies.”

“I quite agree,” Brody replied. “Good day.”

“Good day.” Koswalski left, very dignified.

Brody turned to Jodie. “How would you characterize our Mr. Koswalski?”

“He seems sincere, honest, and hardworking.”

He nodded. “He’s here on time every morning, never takes longer than he has for lunch, does any task he’s given willingly and without protest, even if it means working late hours.”

He picked up a file folder. “On the other hand, the systems specialist, a Ms. Burgen, has been late four out of five mornings she’s worked here. She misses work on Mondays every other week. She complains if she’s asked to do overtime, and her work is unsatisfactory.” He looked up. “Your course of action, in my place?”

“I would fire her,” she said.

He smiled slowly. “She has an invalid mother and a two-year-old son,” he said surprisingly. “She was fired from her last job. If she loses this one, she faces an uncertain future.”

She bit her lower lip. It was one thing to condone firing an incompetent employee, but given the woman’s home life the decision was uncomfortable.

“If you take my place, you’ll be required to make such recommendations. In fact, you’ll be required to make them to me,” he added. “You can’t wear your heart on your sleeve. You work for a business that depends on its income. Incompetent employees will
cost us time, money, and possibly even clients. No business can exist that way for long.”

She looked up at him with sad eyes. “It’s not a nice job, Brody.”

He nodded. “It’s like gardening. You have to separate the weeds from the vegetables. Too many weeds, no more vegetables.”

“I understand.” She looked at her pad. “So what will you recommend?” she added.

“That our security section make a thorough investigation of her job performance,” he said. “If she has a drug problem that relates to it, she’ll be given the choice of counseling and treatment or separation. Unless she’s caught using drugs on the job, of course,” he added coolly. “In that case, she’ll be arrested.”

She knew she was growing cold inside. What had sounded like a wonderful position was weighing on her like a rock.

“Jodie, is this really what you want to do?” he asked gently, smiling. “Forgive me, but you’re not a hardhearted person, and you’re forever making excuses for people. It isn’t the mark of a manager.”

“I’m beginning to realize that,” she said quietly. She searched his eyes. “Doesn’t it bother you, recommending that people lose their jobs?”

“No,” he said simply. “I’m sorry for them, but not sorry enough to risk my paycheck and yours keeping them on a job they’re not qualified to perform. That’s business, Jodie.”

“I suppose so.” She toyed with her pad. “I was a whiz with computers in business college,” she mused. “I didn’t want to be a systems specialist because I’m not mechanically-minded, but I could do anything with software.” She glanced at him. “Maybe I’m in the wrong job to begin with. Maybe I should have been a software specialist.”

He grinned. “If you decide, eventually, that you’d like to do that, write a job description, give it to your Human Resources manager, and apply for the job,” he counseled.

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not. It’s how I got my job,” he confided.

“Well!”

“You don’t have to fire software,” he reminded her. “And if it doesn’t work, it won’t worry your conscience to toss it out. But all this is premature. You don’t have to decide right now what you want to do. Besides,” he added with a sigh, “I may not even get that promotion I’m hoping for.”

“You’ll get it,” she assured him. “You’re terrific at what you do, Brody.”

“Do you really think so?” he asked, and seemed to care about her reply.

“I certainly do.”

He smiled. “Thanks. Cara doesn’t think much of my abilities, I’m afraid. I suppose it’s because she’s so good at marketing. She gets promotions all the time. And the travel…! She’s out of town more than she’s in, but she loves it. She was in Mexico last week and in Peru the week before that. Imagine! I’d love to go to Mexico and see Chichen Itza.” He sighed.

“So would I. You like archaeology?” she fished.

He grinned. “Love it. You?”

“Oh, yes!”

“There’s a museum exhibit of Mayan pottery at the art museum,” he said enthusiastically. “Cara hates that sort of thing. I don’t suppose you’d like to go with me to see it next Saturday?”

Next Saturday. Alexander’s birthday. She’d mourned for the past two weeks since she’d come back from the Cobbs’ party, miserable
and hurting. But she wouldn’t be invited to his birthday party, and she wouldn’t go even if she was.

“I’d love to,” she said with a beaming smile. “But…won’t your girlfriend mind?”