Island Hearts (Jenny's Turn and Stray Lady) (2 page)

“Jennifer?” He was towering over her table now. She punched the pause button and watched the scene freeze on her monitor.

“How did you make out with the Eglinton recording I gave you?” He leaned onto her desk to look at her monitor.

She switched the power off and looked up, trying to tell herself it wasn’t his nearness that made her short of breath. He was alive, vital – sexy, she admitted with a frown. The room pulsed with his suppressed energy, the excitement that he brought to everything around him. His face reflected it – not handsome, but dark and aggressive and filled with the sharply drawn lines of his laughter and his frowns.

Life around Jake couldn’t help being fascinating. Jenny’s work days held a lot more excitement than her leisure, although she had been left behind more and more this last year, ever since Jake hired Hans as a photographer.

Until then, it had been Jenny who followed Jake on location. Then everything had changed. Jenny had seriously considered quitting when she discovered that Hans was taking her place on location – at Jake’s request!

She didn’t know why she stayed, outwardly accepting her new role, but resenting it terribly every time Jake walked out the door with Hans trailing behind him. Sometimes she had the urge to scream at him, but Jake wasn’t the kind of person you went up against and won.

Right now, standing over her desk, he was determined to discuss Eglinton, and couldn’t care less that he was messing up her concentration on the Hamburger Caper.

Monica never saw this side of him, the maddening, aggravating Jake Austin. Poor Monica, she had no idea what she was getting into – dating this man with the harsh, predatory face.

He was tall and dark, lean and hard, pulsing with the suppressed energy that had made Austin Media one of the most successful documentary film companies on Canada’s West Coast. And he had been dating Jenny’s roommate for six months, ever since the day Jenny’s car had broken down and he had given her a ride home.

With his usual lack of restraint, he’d been questioning Jenny about Wayne, her latest boyfriend. He was always asking about the men she dated. Jenny usually concentrated on hiding her resentment at his questions, using whatever tactic was handy to avoid answering.

This time she had used Monica. She’d known her roommate was home, had invited Jake in for coffee as much to distract him as anything else.

Monica had been reading a book when they came in. Jenny had introduced them, glancing at Jake, then back to Monica, feeling herself suddenly outside, looking in on the beginnings of Jake’s next affair.

Now, six months later, he was prowling across to his own desk. He stared back at her intently, as if he’d been reading her thoughts. “About the video?” he reminded her, ejecting a cartridge from his camera as he watched her.

“I took it home last night.”

“And—?” He swung back to her table. She had once believed brown eyes were warm and soft. His were sometimes hot, sometimes cold, but seldom soft. Right now they penetrated, trying to see everything. She fiddled with the controls on the tape player, uncomfortably aware of the way her suit jacket had fallen back to reveal the swell of her breasts through her blouse.

After five years she should have grown used to the way his eyes would suddenly lock on her body, taking in every detail, noticing
as she uneasily adjusted her jacket.

“The video,” she repeated. “Yes, I think it would make a good documentary.”

“You can write the script,” he offered casually.

“On location?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with sudden anticipation.

His dark eyes met hers for an uncomfortable moment, then he was back at his own desk on the far side of the room, sorting through papers. “There’s no need. You’ll have the video, the sound tracks.” She made her face into a mask, hiding her disappointment at his explanation, “…need you here. I talked to Chris Eglinton this morning – his plans, some of his ideas. I recorded our conversation. See for yourself. Get a feel for what he’s doing, then rough in a story board for me. I’d like it by tomorrow.”

His fingers brushed hers as she took the recording. She frowned, ignoring the tingle from his touch. “I can’t do it, Jake, not for tomorrow. I’ve got the Madison video to finish, and I can’t stay late tonight. I’m going out with Wayne.”

“Put him off – he’ll forgive you. Please, Jennifer?”

Jennifer. He was the only one that used that name. It reminded her of Lance. She welcomed the reminder because it kept her safe from any temptation to let herself be caught up in Jake’s web of romance.

“Jenny?” Charlotte called through from the next room. “Call for you— or— you said not to interrupt you?”

Jake snorted and rolled his eyes in exasperation. Jenny shrugged, smiling herself. Charlotte’s inefficiencies were becoming a daily joke they shared.

“Take a message, Charlotte!” she called, wondering if Charlotte would ever learn to use the intercom.

Jake said, “No, take the call.”

“Give her time,” Jenny said quietly. “She’s young.” But she resisted his smile, remembering that she was angry. Would she
ever
get to go on location again? Would it always be Hans, usurping her place? Jake was watching, seeing too much.

She picked up the phone, saying casually, “Jenny Winslow here.”

“George Dobson here. I thought I’d find you at this number. Still working for your Haida chieftain?”

She looked up at Jake, met his eyes, dark above prominent cheekbones. She glanced quickly away from their probing examination. Could he hear George’s voice? She hoped not. “
George
, where— I haven’t heard from you in so long! Are you—”

Jake turned away impatiently. Jenny forced her fingers to relax on the receiver as George said, “Slow down, darling! I’m in Alaska, just flying out. I’ll be in Vancouver tomorrow.”

“Really? Tomorrow?” Jake was watching her again, but she couldn’t stop an excited, “I can hardly wait! Do you
realize
how long it’s been?” She saw so little of her family, and George was the closest of them all.

“I had to be off on my own, Jenny. I know I neglected you. I’ll be there tomorrow and you can chastise me properly. You will have dinner with me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will.” She laughed happily, then sobered, asking, “You did say Alaska, right?”

“I’ll explain tomorrow. I’ll call you at work.”

Jenny was left staring at a dead phone receiver. “George, damn you,” she muttered, but she couldn’t help smiling. George hadn’t changed since they were children. Always doing the unexpected, never explaining until she was ready.

“George?” Jake was demanding, “Who the hell is George?”

She put the phone down slowly, registering Jake’s fierce expression, smothering a smile. George was wrong in calling him a chief, but it wasn’t hard to picture him in the traditional clothes of his Haida ancestors. “What did you say?” she asked, playing for time to assess his mood.

“George, you said.” He was talking slowly, as if to a child. “Are you two-timing Wayne? You have a date with Wayne tonight. Or had you forgotten?”

“You should know,” she said, keeping her voice carefully neutral. “You keep better track of my social life than I do. Are you doing a documentary on me? I doubt if there’s a market.”

He frowned darkly, turning away, throwing back, “Don’t forget that story board.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or to throw something after him as he left. Then she did laugh, thinking of George – small and blond and very female. George certainly wasn’t any competition for Wayne!

Jake must have heard her chuckle. He made a sudden, angry gesture to Hans. The photographer scurried to gather his camera and recorder, tearing out the door before it slammed closed.

They all jumped when Jake commanded. Arrogant, temperamental man! Someday she’d like to give him a piece of her mind.

She called Wayne before going back to work.

“About tonight—” she began.

“Don’t, Jenny! Don’t cancel on me tonight! Tonight’s special,” he protested.

“I’m not,” she denied, mentally rearranging her evening. “I have to go to the library. Some research I have to do. Could you pick me up there? About seven?”

It wasn’t the way she’d planned the night. She’d intended to ask Jake if she could leave early. She’d wanted to spend an hour in the sauna at a nearby health spa, getting rid of every trace of the working girl.

Wayne was nothing like Jake. Jake’s attraction was dark and dangerous. He always stirred her emotions – sometimes excitement, sometimes anger. She had a hot temper, well concealed, but she knew better than to let herself lose control around Jake. He was always watching, waiting for some clue to her that would give him an advantage.

Jake thought she had a heavy romance going with Wayne. He was wrong. They were no more than friends. They’d been dating for several months, ever since Wayne turned up at her door one day, looking sheepish and a little ill at ease.

“I’ve just come from the Caribbean,” he’d introduced himself quickly, as if he were afraid she would slam the door in his face. “I was teaching at the technical institute there – I worked with your father.”

She’d opened the door wide, welcoming him. Her mother’s monthly duty letters had dwindled since Jenny left school. Even this second-hand contact was something to grasp at, to give her a feeling of family.

That had been the beginning, and they’d seen each other regularly since. Much of Jenny’s time was spent listening to his problems finding a job, but tonight would be different. Wayne was celebrating getting a two-year contract for a teaching job in Saudi Arabia, and Jenny didn’t want to let him down by canceling at the last minute.

Wayne was the kind of boyfriend that suited her, friendly but not too amorous. She didn’t want a lover or a husband. She’d seen enough disasters. George for one, although George had been in love with Scott – but look at her now. Alone and rattling around the world in a desperate search for something.

That wasn’t for Jenny. Wayne was leaving, but she had holidays coming, and she wasn’t planning to get miserable about saying good bye.

She thought about her holidays as she was working her way through Eglinton’s thickest book in the library. She’d made reservations for a flight to the Caribbean to visit her parents. They had gotten into the habit of taking holidays in Fiji since she’d left university, so she hadn’t seen them in several years.

She’d phone them with her arrival time, get on the plane – too bad there wasn’t time to go by boat, anything but flying! – then she’d arrive at the airport, be met—

All right. Be a realist, Jenny.
Her parents wouldn’t meet her at the airport. She would take a taxi, or whatever the local equivalent was. She’d arrive and her mother would give her a cool kiss. Her father would look at her with that vague, troubled gaze, as if he wasn’t sure where she’d come from.

She frowned at the library book in her hands, concentrating until she tuned out her parents. When Wayne came, she was still surrounded by books and papers, but she packed everything up quickly, determined to enjoy her evening.

After dinner Wayne drove to Spanish Banks, parking the car where they could look out over the ocean. The moon was hanging over English Bay. Jenny snuggled down in the curve of Wayne’s arm, comfortably watching the reflections on the water.

When he kissed her, she let her lips soften against his, enjoying stirrings of warmth. This was just right. Pleasant, but no threat to her equilibrium. She wasn’t going to lose her head, or her heart. She settled closer into his arms, half opened her eyes and saw the moon hanging over his shoulder.

Parked by the water, the moon shining down on them. It stirred memories of Lance, and with the memories came the agony and the bitterness. No matter how many men there were, it always came back to Lance.

Wayne was stroking her long hair, but he drew back when she started shivering.

“You’re cold? That jacket’s not very warm, is it?” He shifted, started the car engine and said, “I’ll take you home and you can get some sleep.”

But she couldn’t seem to shake the memory of Lance. She smiled at Wayne and managed to kiss him goodbye when he dropped her at her car, but all she was seeing was the past.

Pain. Betrayal. Loss.
Damn
!
No one was ever going to get close enough to her again to tear her apart! She would follow Jake’s example, walk away from each relationship before it became serious, before anyone got a hold on her.

Jake’s love life was as changeable as the films he worked on. Sometimes she suspected that he changed women every time he finished a major project. The brunette had been during the ecology series. The redhead must have been around election time, when Jake had been up to his ears in political broadcasts. And Monica—

Monica had lasted longer than the others.

Why on earth did she feel like crying?

She parked underground and took the elevator up to her apartment, her arms loaded with books and the story board pad. The apartment was dark except for the numbers glowing on a digital clock in the living room. Monica was out with Jake. She might stay out all night. Of course they must be lovers. They’d be at his False Creek town house, her arms twisted around his broad shoulders, his eyes glowing as they looked down on her pale body. The blankets would be tumbled around them, evidence of their passion.

Jenny shivered again. The thermostat had to be wrong. She turned it up.

She had been at Jake’s townhouse once for a party. She could close her eyes and see it clearly. She’d stood at the window and looked out over the water, staring at the boats in the marina below. Behind her, Jake had been dancing with his current woman.

Was he dancing with Monica tonight? Making love?

Jenny moved restlessly, putting a disk in the stereo, pouring herself a Coke and carrying it into her bedroom where she had a workbench set up.

She tried to keep working when she heard the door, the low sound of Jake’s voice, then Monica’s. She stared at the words she had written on the storyboard, but they made no sense at all. She’d lost her concentration. Their voices kept intruding on her work.