Читать книгу To A Macallister Born - Joan Elliott Pickart - Страница 12

The night was clear, crisp and incredibly quiet.

A million stars twinkled in the black-velvet sky, creating a silvery beacon to show the way as Jennifer and Jack turned the corner and left the lights of downtown Prescott behind.

Jack shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and hunched his shoulders against the chill as he matched Jennifer’s long-legged stride along the sidewalk.

He was out of his tiny mind, he thought, mentally shaking his head. He probably would catch pneumonia and croak, which would be his just desserts for this ridiculous performance.

There he was, slowly freezing to death, as he escorted a woman—one who didn’t wish to be escorted —home at midnight. Yep, he was definitely certifiably insane.

But…well, what could he say? A foreign sense of protectiveness had consumed him when Jennifer had announced she was about to walk home alone. There was no way he could just stand in the warmth of the hotel lobby and watch her set out on her own.

Oh, man, he was cold. He needed to do something to shift his attention from the fact that the blood was freezing in his veins. So, MacAllister, talk to Jennifer.

“Well, here we are,” he said.

“Mmm,” Jennifer said.

“Sure is quiet.”

“Mmm.”

“I’m used to New York, you know, the city that never sleeps.”

“Mmm,” Jennifer said again.

Jack sighed in defeat and trudged on.

Jennifer slid a glance at Jack, then looked quickly back down at her feet. She was being rude, she knew, by refusing to engage in the simplest conversation. But she just couldn’t chatter like a magpie. Not yet. Not until she regained at least a modicum of control over her raging emotions.

She was acutely aware—again—that Jack’s powerful male presence was causing heat to thrum within her despite the chill of the night.

But something more unsettling her now. When she’d realized that Jack intended to see her safely to her door even though he didn’t have a jacket to wear, she’d had to struggle against very unwelcome tears.

Dear heaven, how long had it been…if ever…since she’d felt protected and watched over by a man?

How long had it been…if ever…since she had been made to feel special and important due to the actions of a man?

How long had it been…if ever…since she’d been able to relax and just be, because someone else had stepped in and taken charge?

Jack’s stubborn insistence on walking her safely home had touched a place deep within her, and she’d been nearly overwhelmed by the emotions that gesture had evoked.

Oh, Jennifer, stop, she ordered herself.

Jack MacAllister wasn’t Prince Charming riding to the rescue of a damsel in distress. He was a smooth operator who was accustomed to having his way with women, a man who rarely heard “no,” she figured, from a member of the opposite sex.

They had engaged in a battle of wills of sorts, on the subject of her going home alone, and Jack obviously couldn’t deal with losing the war. So there he was, freezing his tush off in order to proclaim himself the victor. What a dunce.

“Cold?” Jennifer said, glancing over at Jack.

He chuckled. “You’d better believe it. This was a pretty dumb thing to do, but my big-city instincts kicked in and…Well, I was obviously wrong. This town is buttoned down so tight, we haven’t even seen a stray dog.”

“You’re admitting that I was right?” Jennifer said, surprise evident in her voice.

“Yep.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “Fancy that.”

“What did you think? That I was on a big macho trip here? It’s hard to be a hero when there aren’t any dragons to slay.” Jack laughed. “What I am is a six-foot popsicle.”

Jennifer stopped walking, and Jack skidded to a halt.

“Jack, this is silly,” she said, smiling. “Why don’t you turn around and head back to the hotel. Jog or something to get there as quickly as possible. I appreciate your gentlemanly gesture here, but as you can see, it really isn’t necessary.”

“Hey, we’re almost to your house,” he said, matching her smile. “A jacket of Joey’s obviously wouldn’t fit me, but if I beg, maybe you’ll loan me a blanket for my return journey in the wilds.”

“I’d be happy to.”

Jack nodded as he continued to look directly into Jennifer’s eyes, now clearly visible in the silvery glow of the stars.

Neither of them moved. They hardly breathed. Time lost meaning. Heat began to curl and swirl within them, gaining force, pulsing low.

A sudden chill coursed through Jennifer, a wave of fear, of knowing she was losing control of the very essence of herself.

“No,” she whispered, then spun around and hurried down the sidewalk.

Jack shook his head slightly to shake off the strange, sensuous spell that had been woven over him. “Man,” he said, then took a much-needed deep breath.

He glanced quickly in the direction Jennifer had gone, then sprinted after her, catching up as she turned onto the cobblestone walk leading to her house. She was fumbling in her purse for her key while holding the box of chocolates in her other hand.

“Jennifer—” Jack started.

“No,” she said, going up the steps of the wide front porch.

She unlocked the door and entered the house with Jack right behind her. “I’ll get you a blanket,” she said, her back to him as he entered the house and shut the door behind him.

“Jennifer, wait a minute,” he said. “We need to talk about what happened a minute ago.”

She spun around, her green eyes flashing. “No, we do not,” she said, her voice not quite steady. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“But you felt it, I know you did. The heat, the pull, the—”

“Lust,” she said, lifting her chin. “Let’s give it the tacky title it deserves, shall we? That’s what it was—lust. And as far as I’m concerned, the incident is forgotten. I certainly don’t wish to discuss it.”

Jack frowned, then shook his head slowly. “No, that wasn’t lust,” he said thoughtfully. “Nope. No way. I know lust when I’m caught up in it and that…whatever it was that took place between us was something very, very different.”

Jennifer dropped her purse and the candy box onto the sofa facing the fireplace, where embers of a dying fire still glowed. Her coat joined the lot moments later.

“Whatever,” she said, looking at Jack again. “You have your opinion. I have mine. It really doesn’t matter because the subject is closed.”

“What are you afraid of?” Jack said, studying her intently. “I mean, hey, I’m a tad shook up myself here, because I’ve never experienced anything quite like that before. But I’m not afraid of it. I want to know what it was.”

“Well, I don’t,” she said, wrapping her hands around her elbows. “Jack, please, let it go. It’s late, I’m tired, and I have to be up early in the morning to get Joey ready for kindergarten.”

Jack swept his gaze over the large room that was furnished with worn but comfortable chairs and a sofa. The tables were oak and had seen better days.

“Where’s your baby-sitter?” he said.

“When I’m on this shift at the hotel, Joey sleeps at Mildred Clark’s house next door. Mildred is a wonderful woman who is like a grandmother to Joey. In fact, he calls her Grandma Clark and…Oh, forget it. Why am I explaining all this to you?”

Jack smiled. “Because I asked?”

“Don’t smile,” she said, nearly yelling. “Don’t you dare smile that smile at me.”

“Huh?” he said, definitely no longer smiling.

Jennifer pressed one hand to her forehead for a moment. “I’m losing it. I really am. This is insane. I don’t behave this way. What on earth is the matter with me?”

“Gotcha,” Jack said, pointing at her. “See? You do want to know what that strange spell was that came over us out there in the cold, dark night. Whatever it was is what on earth is the matter with you. Get it?”

“What I’m going to get, mister,” she said, “is a blanket for you. Then you are marching yourself out of here. Get it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.”

Jennifer nodded decisively, then left the room, returning minutes later with a blanket.

Jack burst into laughter. “You’re kidding,” he said. “You’re sending me packing wrapped in a Winnie-the-Pooh blanket?”

“You’ll be cute as a button,” she said, shoving the brightly colored blanket at him. “Goodbye.”

Jack tucked the blanket under one arm. “Okay. I’m gone. Lock up behind me.”

At the door, Jack hesitated and turned. Jennifer was right behind him; their toes were nearly touching.

“I think—” he said quietly. “I truly believe…that you have the same questions and want the same answers that I do. It’s all very confusing, don’t you think?”

“I—”

“Shh.”

Jack slid his free hand to the nape of Jennifer’s neck, lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his.

Jennifer’s eyes flew wide open in shock, but in the next instant her lashes drifted down as heat suffused her. Of their own volition her arms floated upward, then her hands encircled Jack’s neck.

She savored the feel, the taste, the wondrous sensation of Jack’s lips on hers, and offered no resistance as his tongue slipped into her mouth to seek and find her tongue.

Jack dropped the bulky blanket and gathered Jennifer close to his body, deepening the kiss as desire rocketed through him. He raised his head a fraction of an inch, then slanted his mouth in the opposite direction, drinking in the tantalizingly sweet taste of Jennifer. Heat coiled low and tight within him, arousing him almost to the point of pain.

Jennifer, his mind hummed. He’d known, just somehow known that it would be far, far more than just a simple kiss. It would be ecstasy.

Jennifer was responding to him, holding nothing back, returning his kiss with total abandon. He felt ten feet tall because Jennifer was, in this moment stolen out of time, his.

Jack groaned in pure male pleasure as he pressed Jennifer even more tightly against him, relishing the feel of her lush breasts being crushed to his chest.

Oh, his mind thundered, how he wanted her, wanted to make love with Jennifer Mackane through the remaining hours of the night.

The rumbling sound of Jack’s sensual moan penetrated the mist encasing Jennifer, bringing her back to reality with a thud, jarring her from the rosy, sensuous place she’d floated to.

She broke the kiss, jerked out of Jack’s embrace, then took a shaky step backward as she drew a steadying breath.

Jack shook his head slightly. “Whew. That was—You are…Whew.”

“That was,” Jennifer said, hearing the thread of breathlessness in her voice, “a mistake, should never have happened.”

“Why not?” Jack said, frowning. “It was sensational and equally shared.”

“I…” Jennifer started, then threw up her hands. “Yes, all right, I can’t deny that I…took part in that kiss.”

Jack smiled. “Kisses. Plural.”

“Whatever,” she said, hugging herself. “The fact remains that it—they, those kisses—were a mistake. I don’t behave like this…ever. I don’t know what came over me, but I’d appreciate it if you’d forget that this incident ever took place.”

“Incident?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Lady, it was a happening, an event, that defies description. Forget it? No way. Are you telling me that you can honestly forget how you felt, how you responded to me?”

“Yes. No. I…Jack, please, just go. I’m embarrassed and upset and—Just leave.”

“Hey,” he said gently, “don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a young, healthy, beautiful woman, with wants and needs that are nothing to be ashamed of. We felt it—both of us. The desire—not lust, desire. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yes, there is,” she said, her voice rising, “because I don’t want any part of feeling that heat, that need, that…No. I have no room for all that in my life—not anymore. Not now. Not ever again.”

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Jack said, matching her volume. “So, okay, you loved your husband, but, my God, Jennifer, it’s been five years since that man died. He wouldn’t want you to grieve for a lifetime, to cease to exist as a woman. You can’t mourn him forever.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, I sure as hell don’t,” he said, restlessly raking a hand through his hair. “What I do understand—what I know—is that you want me as much as I want you.”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.

Jack sighed in exasperation, then leaned down and grabbed the blanket from the floor. “I’m leaving now, Jennifer,” he said, “but this discussion isn’t over. There’s something happening between us, and I want to know what it is. I’ll be back.”

Jack turned and left the house, closing the door with a tad more force than was necessary.

Jennifer walked to the door on trembling legs, snapped the lock into place, then rested her heated forehead on the cool, smooth wood.

Dear heaven, she thought frantically, what had she done? She’d responded to Jack’s kisses like some wanton hussy, had pressed her body to his, had felt his arousal surging full and heavy against her and had inwardly rejoiced in the knowledge that such a magnificent man wanted her. Her.

Sensuous images had flitted through her passion-laden mind of clothes disappearing by magic, of tumbling naked onto her bed and reaching eagerly for Jack, bringing him to her to fill her emptiness, to awaken her sleeping femininity with glorious lovemaking.

I’ll be back.

Jack’s fiercely spoken words echoed in her head, and she spun around, her eyes darting across the room in a near-hysterical search for somewhere to hide.

“To hide from Jack?” she said aloud, as tears stung her eyes. “No, heaven help me, to hide from myself.”

This was her fault. She wasn’t who she really was when she was with Jack. She didn’t know why—just did not know why, but she did know she would be certain never to be alone with Jack MacAllister again.

Exhaustion swept over her like a heavy curtain, and she stumbled across the room, turning off the lights as she went. A short time later she slipped into bed, a weary sigh escaping from her lips as her head touched the soft, welcoming pillow.

Sleep. She needed to sleep, to escape from the turmoil in her mind, to put hours of distance between herself and what had transpired with Jack in her living room.

Sleep, she thought foggily. Then morning would come and everything would be fine in the light of the new day.

When sunlight tiptoed into Jennifer’s bedroom the next morning and nudged her awake, she stirred, opened her eyes slowly…and thought of Jack.

With a muttered “Damn him,” she threw back the blankets on the bed and stomped into the bathroom for her shower.

Dressed in jeans, a navy-blue sweatshirt and her Big Bird slippers, she entered the kitchen twenty minutes later in a less-than-chipper mood. With a mug of hot coffee in one hand, she began to assemble Joey’s breakfast with the other, a frown on her face.

“Mom,” Joey said, coming into the kitchen.

“What!” Jennifer snapped. Then her shoulders slumped. “Oh, Joey, I’m sorry. I sound like a grumpy bear. Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” She paused. “How did you get into the house?”

“You didn’t answer my knock at the front door, and the doorbell’s broke, and I had to use the key from under the mat to get in.”

Jennifer set her mug on the counter and lifted Joey into her arms. “I apologize,” she said, then kissed him on the nose. “I didn’t start my day with my best foot forward, but I’m fine now. I’ll fix you breakfast, then walk you to school.”

“’Kay,” he said, wiggling to get down.

Jennifer set him on his feet.

“But don’t hold my hand when we turn the corner by the school, Mom,” Joey said, sliding onto his chair at the table. “That’s baby stuff, and I’m big now.”

“Yes, you certainly are getting big,” she said quietly. “Very quickly, too. You’ll be grown and gone before I know it.”

Joey frowned. “Gone where? I belong here with you. I’m never going to leave you, Mommy. Never, ever, never. ’Cause if I did, you’d be all alone.” He straightened in his chair and smiled. “No, you wouldn’t. Not if you were the next bride ’cause you caught the flowers. Then you’d have a groom guy and you wouldn’t be alone at all.”

To Jennifer’s dismay she was assaulted by the memory of being held so tightly in Jack’s embrace, wrapped in the safe, strong cocoon of his arms as he kissed her.

“Don’t start that again, Joey. I am not going to be the next bride. I’ll be just fine when I’m alone after you’re grown up. Clear?”

“No,” he said, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. “I’m going to talk to Uncle Ben and Uncle Brandon about this. I’m going to tell them that you’re breaking the rules about catching Aunt Megan’s flowers. You told me I should never break rules, Mom.”

“Oh, my stars,” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes heavenward. “I don’t believe this. We are now changing the subject. What do you want for breakfast? Cereal? Toast? Eggs?”

“Hot dog with mustard.”

“Why not?” she said, throwing up her hands.

“And potato chips,” Joey added.

“Don’t push your luck, sir. I’ll trade you potato chips for a banana.”

“And orange soda.”

“Milk.”

Joey sighed. “’Kay.”

Jennifer began to prepare the agreed-upon breakfast as Joey chattered about beating Grandma Clark at Candy Land the previous evening.

Jennifer laughed. “Poor Grandma Clark. You played Candy Land again? She can probably do it in her sleep by now.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

“Guess what, Mom. It’s my turn to feed the gerbil at school today. That is so cool. Can I have a gerbil of my own? I’ll keep it in my bedroom.”

“Oh, ugh, no,” Jennifer said, smiling. “Those things remind me of mice. Just enjoy the one at school.”

“Can I have a dog? Know what? Sheriff Montana told me he might get a dog. If I had a dog, then my dog and Sheriff Montana’s dog could be friends. Wouldn’t that be really great?”

“One hot dog with mustard, plus a banana,” Jennifer said, placing a plate in front of Joey. “There—you have a dog.”

“That’s a hot dog,” Joey said, giggling.

“A dog is a dog. I’ll get your milk.”

Jennifer crossed the room and took a carton of milk from the refrigerator. As she turned again, she saw Joey jump from his chair. “Where are you going?” she said.

“Somebody is knocking at the front door,” he said, running from the room.

“So early?” she said, frowning. “Wait, Joey. Don’t open the—darn it.”

Jennifer hurried after Joey as quickly as her Big Bird slippers would allow, the carton of milk still in one hand. Joey flung open the door, and Jennifer stumbled slightly before coming to a halt behind him.

“Hi,” Joey said.

“Hi. I’m Jack MacAllister, a friend of your mom’s. You must be Joey. I borrowed your blanket last night and I came to return it. I also brought some fresh cinnamon rolls from Hamilton House as a thank-you gift for allowing me to use your Pooh bear.”

Jack shifted his gaze slowly to look at Jennifer. “Good morning, Jennifer,” he said, smiling. “May I come in?”

“Sure,” Joey said, stepping back and bumping into his mother.

Jack entered the house, and Joey slammed the door.

Jack swept his gaze over Jennifer, chuckling as he gave special attention to her feet. “Love the slippers,” he said, grinning at her. “Milk? Great,” he added, nodding toward the carton in her hand. “That will hit the spot with these cinnamon rolls. Come on, Joey. Let’s dig into these goodies while they’re still warm.” He dropped the blanket onto the sofa.

As Joey and Jack headed for the kitchen, Jennifer just stood where she was, Big Bird slippers on her feet, a carton of milk in her hand.

“My life,” she said, a rather bemused tone to her voice as she stared into space, “is suddenly out of control.”