Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger (17 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Westerns, #test

BOOK: Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger
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Page 124
she's done with the house, not to mention her cooking,'' he added with a touch of pride in his voice.
A black cloud came up and hovered momentarily over Jessica's head. "I have to cook dinner for Marcy Evans?" she asked darkly.
"No, Angel, for Marcy Mercy, my banker's wife," he said patiently.
"Same difference," she muttered under her breath, then added quickly, "No, I don't mind. I could do that."
"Good, I thought you could." He made a move as if to leave the room.
"Jason," she said urgently, "just a minute."
Well, here goes,
she thought.
It's now or never!
She slinked over to him seductively, contorting her body in as provocative a manner as she knew how and reached up to smooth the collar of his shirt. (She had seen that done on TV in an old movie.)
Jason backed away slightly, his eyes locked on the plunging neckline of her black negligee.
"Is there anything special you'd like?" she whispered a little breathlessly, rubbing her generous bosom against his broad chest. "I mean"she paused, twitching her lips in a Marilyn Monroe fashion, breathing hot breath against his neck"for dinner tomorrow night." She blinked her wide, soft violet eyes at his brilliant green blazing ones, giving him her most enticing look, her hands still moving lightly over his collar.
He shifted nervously, moving a little closer to her now, his arm coming around her waist lightly. "Oh, I don't know, Angel," he said, his voice taking on a husky tone. His hands tightened slowly, pulling her closer to his body. She squirmed against him, feeling his mounting desire for her spring to life as he began placing soft, sensuous kisses on the curve of her neck, running on down past her throat with his tongue, tracing moist patterns on her skin. She felt a great deal of her control evaporating as she tugged impatiently at his shirttail to free it from his jeans, in her
 
Page 125
haste popping the buttons off one by one. ''Drat!" she muttered under her breath.
Maybe he didn't notice,
she prayed.
"I can think of a lot of things I would like to have right nowa new shirt, for example," he whispered softly, his tongue now reaching out to sensuously touch the curve of one white breast. The warm moistness of his mouth on her nipple made her catch her breath and wonder who was seducing whombut she continued with her game plan, running her hands up under his shirt, lightly scraping her fingernails against his bronze skin.
Her legs were rapidly turning to jelly, and her breathing was beginning to become very labored as she felt the heat of his body through her thin gown, and his mouth on her sensitive lips. Her arms trembled beneath his shirt as his hands slipped her negligee from her shoulders, his mouth following its path again to close over her hardened nipple. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, savoring the manly smell of his aftershave, touching her lips teasingly to his ear, and delighting in the sound of him sucking in his breath sharply at her touch. She felt smug, thrilled with the knowledge that she had him eating out of her hand.
He moaned softly. "What in the
hell
is that perfume you're wearing? That could drive a man crazy!" he whispered hoarsely.
Oh, goody! It worked!
"I really don't remember," she said coyly, pressing closer to his warm body. Boy! This was going to be even easier than she had imagined.
"Wear it more often," he pleaded, lifting his head to bring his mouth down on hers, his tongue forcing her yielding lips open to wander aimlessly through the softest of the warm recesses of her mouth, her tongue joining his with abandoned fervor.
He broke away suddenly with a strangled groan, breathing heavily, and reached for her hand, bringing it down boldly to cover his obvious desire for her. "Do you want
 
Page 126
to know what I really want, sweetheart?'' His voice was hoarse, his green eyes dripping with lust. Her hand was on fire from touching him.
"No, tell me, darling," she replied, barely able to breathe, her heart pounding like a jackhammer, torturous passion driving her crazy for release. She closed her eyes and tilted her face upward, parting her lips seductively, running her tongue along the edge of her teeth.
"Meatloaf," he whispered softly.
She bit her tongue as her violet eyes snapped open, wide with shock. "Meatloaf!" she gasped, jerking her hand from his hold.
"Yeah, meatloaf. It's one of my favorites. You do have a good recipe, don't you?" he asked with concern.
She stepped back aghast, irritably straightening her negligee to cover her bare shoulders and one obviously exposed breast, her eyes blazing at him as if he were a mad dog.
He turned and started toward the study again in a nonchalant manner, giving her instructions as he stuffed his shirttail back into his jeans. "Maybe a few potatoes, a nice big salad, some of those hot rolls you makeyou know, just the usual stuff." He paused at the door and gave her a big, broad wink. "Fix us a meal they won't soon forget, Angel." He turned and cockily walked down the hall to his study whistling "The Old Gray Mare."
Jessica stood there completely stunned, her eyes following his retreating back. What had gone wrong? Meatloaf! Her eyes were turning a dark lavender now. "Ooooooo!" she screeched, and with a defiant stomp of her small foot she started marching militantly back to her bedroom. Tabby was just starting to cross the doorway, and a roaring voice made him jump for safety. "Get out of my way, cat!" she shouted as a puff of black smoke streaked by.
She muttered as she marched into her room, "Fix them a meal they won't forget. Well, you can bet your stinkin'
 
Page 127
meatloaf on that, Jason Rawlings. Believe me, you can
definitely
count on that!''
Jessica was up bright and early the following morning, her blood still boiling from the night before. He had made her the world's biggest fool, and she was intent on revenge. She slammed the coffeepot under the kitchen faucet, spraying water all over herself and the cabinet in her haste. She had just plugged it in and reached for her coffee cup when she heard a noise at the kitchen door. It was Jason asking, "Jessica, where did you put my clean underwear?"
"Why, in your top drawer where I always do. Why?" she said as she turned to face him. It was
her
mouth that dropped open this time. Jason was standing in the doorway stark, raving naked! Her face felt like a four-alarm fire with him standing there naked as a jaybird.
They're not there," he replied calmly. "I just looked."
Jessica froze in her tracks. She could not take her eyes from his massive chest with the thick, soft curly hair running down to his waist and tapering off togood heavens! He was magnificent! She
had
to get her traitorous eyes to move back up to his face.
Summoning every ounce of strength she possessed, she whirled back around, facing the kitchen window.
"What is the meaning of this disgusting display?" she said through clenched teeth.
"What are you talking about?" he asked bluntly.
"What do you think you are doing?" she screeched, totally out of control now.
"I think I'm looking for my clean underwear," he replied matter-of-factly. "Why?"
"You know very well why," she yelled. "You don't have one stitch of clothes on!"
"Oh." He glanced down at his nude condition with sorrow written mockingly all over his handsome face. "Well, I just thought after that gown you had on last night, you had decided we didn't have to be quite so
 
Page 128
formal around the house anymore,'' he said in a petulant tone of voice.
She slammed her coffee cup down on the cabinet and said in a tight voice, "Just because I had on an old gown and housecoat that I've had for years last night, you have to go and make some big deal out of it. And I certainly wouldn't call wearing your clothes being formal!"
"Well," he said, "I'll just run in there and check again. I could have overlooked them."
"You do that," she gritted out.
He turned and swaggered back down the hall to his bedroom.
Jessica had just poured her coffee, trying to steady her nerves, when his voice came floating down the hall sweetly: "Why, you were right, Angel, they're right here where you said they were!"
 
Page 129
Chapter Seven
Jessica finished her work in the kitchen in record time. As she stepped out onto the back porch to shake a small area rug she noticed the air had a hot, stifling stillness to it this morning. She hoped they would get rain by tonight but added a silent prayer that there would be no storms.
Jessica had always had an abnormal fear of the storms that could sweep through this small Texas town. Although she had never actually been in a tornado, she had heard some hair-raising tales from Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey concerning ones they had experienced. Jessica remembered listening, wide-eyed, to their tales, deciding that she would happily forgo that experience.
Just as she finished shaking the rug, she saw the mail-
 
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man pull up to the mailbox and deposit the mail. She waved happily at him as he drove on down the dusty road. As Jessica gathered the handful of bills and advertisements from the big box she noticed one letter addressed to her. She smiled as she recognized the handwriting of old Mrs. Houseman, her landlady in Austin. Jessica had dropped her a short note last week informing her that she would be staying on here and giving her the new phone number where she could be reached in case of an emergency.
Jessica ripped open the letter, remembering fondly the kind elderly lady who had mothered her through the last few years. If Jessica was sick, Mrs. Houseman would always be the first to show up at her door with a jar of her homemade chicken soup and a big bottle of Dr. Caldwell's laxative. Mrs. Houseman had always contended that Dr. Caldwell's was the answer to anyone's ills, no matter what the diagnosis.
Her eyes scanned the pastel paper, trying to read Mrs. Houseman's scratchy writing. She was offering to pack Jessica's personal belongings and mail them to her. ''Don't worry about the lease, dear," she had written. "There was a young girl by here this morning wanting to know if the apartment was available, and though I'll miss you something fierce, I know your place is at home right now," she concluded.
Jessica's eyes turned teary as she folded the letter back up lovingly. It suddenly occurred to her that she would, in all likelihood, have to return to her little home in Austin permanentlyfor, unless things changed, she would never be able to live here in this town when she and Jason parted at the end of the six months. She would never be able to live in the small town with him, seeing him married to Monica. No, she couldn't live through that!
She realized now that instead of coming out of this "arrangement" unscathed, she had succeeded only in falling in love more deeply with Jason. Jessica sighed. She
 
Page 131
would have to write Mrs. Houseman and tell her that she had better hold the apartment for her, just in case.
As she returned to the house with a heavy heart she knew she was going to have to make a decision soon, and not only about the apartment; she would have to let the school know whether she was returning for the next semester.
As she was passing through the kitchen on the way to the living room the phone shrilled. Muttering a small expletive under her breath as she turned back, she jerked the phone off its cradle. She wasn't in the mood for a phone conversation this morning. ''Hello!"
"Wow, I'm sorry!" Maureen Winters's voice apologized. "The day this young and going so bad already?" she teased.
"
Bad
isn't the word," Jessica told her. "This whole week has been the pits!"
"Well, old Dr. Winters has just the right prescription. Let's go out to lunch and do some shopping."
"I can't," Jessica responded glumly. "Jason has invited Willis and Marcy over for dinner this evening. I have to do the marketing for that, on top of tear up the house," she finished absently.
"Tear up the house?" Maureen laughed. "Don't you mean
clean
up the house?"
"No, I meant
tear
it up . . . Listen, Maureen, I'm sorry, but I can't chat right now. I have to go to the market. Can I call you tomorrow?"
"Sure, no problem," Maureen said. "I'll talk to you then."
Jessica placed the receiver back on the hook, giving it a threatening look which forbade it to ring again, and hurried to the bathroom for a quick shower, after which she put on a pair of white slacks with a navy-blue top, applied a light coat of mascara to her lashes and a touch of gloss to her pink lips. She then twisted her thick hair into a knot, pinning it securely to the top of her head,

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