Читать книгу Matchmaking by Moonlight - Teresa Hill, Teresa Hill - Страница 9

Ashe was wrapping things up for the day in his chambers when Wyatt knocked on his open door. Ashe motioned for him to come on inside.

“Did you really have lunch with a naked woman at Malone’s today?” Wyatt asked, looking completely baffled.

Ashe winced. “No, I did not have lunch with a naked woman at Malone’s. I had lunch with Lilah, who was fully clothed.”

“Oh.” Wyatt sounded disappointed, then shrugged at the look Ashe shot his way. “Sorry, it was one of the best rumors I’ve heard in months.”

“Well, it probably has to do with the photograph she took to advertise her divorce classes at Eleanor’s estate. I’m sure the posters are all over town by now, if I know Lilah. She wouldn’t have wasted any time.”

“Oh. Okay.” Wyatt frowned but let it go. “So, about Lilah? Do you think I should be worried?”

“I think if those three little old ladies were related to me in any way, I would always be worried,” Ashe said.

“True. Pity me, please, and help me. Should I be worried about Lilah?”

“Probably. I mean, I don’t think she’s a swindler or anything like that. But she likes to shake things up, at the very least. Enjoys it, even.”

“Which Eleanor and company will love, if I know them. Are you going to do this class with Lilah?” Wyatt asked. “Please tell me you are, because if you do, you’ll know what she’s up to.”

Which was a great excuse to help Lilah. He could do it for Wyatt. If only Ashe could convince himself that’s why he’d be doing it. He thought about how she’d looked today, how vibrant and … interesting.

The woman was nothing if not interesting.

How long had it been since he’d met someone he found truly interesting? Who challenged him the way she did?

“The woman quoted Gandhi to me. ‘Be the change you want to see in the world.’ What a beautiful world it would be if we all made an effort to try to fix just one problem. She actually said that to me,” Ashe added.

Wyatt reminded him, “You try to fix things.”

“I do damage control. We all do. You know that.”

“Bad day, Judge?”

Ashe nodded.

“Well, do you think Lilah could help people going through divorce?” Wyatt tried finally.

“I don’t know. God knows, somebody needs to. There are way too many screwed-up people in the world.”

“Look, I’m not asking for a lifelong commitment here. Just do one of Lilah’s little classes.”

“One class. And you’ll owe me big-time.”

Lilah put her posters up all over town, immensely pleased with how well they’d turned out. And—if she was completely honest with herself—how uncomfortable they’d made Judge Ashford.

She got back to the Barrington estate at sunset and found Eleanor, Kathleen and Gladdy just finishing dinner and moving on to coffee and dessert, which they invited her to share. She agreed, having found the trio of women to be delightful, interesting company, although a bit secretive. She always felt as if they were up to something they wouldn’t talk about.

“Were you pleased with your little advertisements, dear?” Eleanor asked, as they all dug into delicious fruit tarts with fresh cream.

“I was, but I’d love to hear what you all think,” Lilah said, pulling out the last poster, which she’d kept for herself, and holding it up for them all to see.

“Oh, perfect,” Eleanor said.

“Absolutely.”

“And eye-catching,” Gladdy observed. “I hope no one gave you any trouble about them.”

“Well, the judge had his reservations, before he’d even seen them. But once he actually looked, he admitted there was nothing blatantly offensive about them.”

“Offensive? It’s a perfectly beautiful image,” Eleanor insisted.

“I thought so, too,” Lilah agreed.

“An absolute shame that such a young, good-looking man would be such a prude—” Gladdy began.

“Gladdy, we don’t know that. Not at all.”

“It certainly seems that way. Someone needs to loosen the man up a bit,” Gladdy said.

Lilah tried to hold back a giggle as she thought of how appealing that sounded. Loosening up the judge. Toying with him was one thing. Teasing him, of course. But to truly loosen the man up would require some effort, some action, which she should not undertake. She’d been bad enough the first time they’d met, and she’d had her fun with him over the posters. But she was ready to try to be good.

“Is he going to help you with your classes, dear?” Eleanor asked.

“He’s going to think about it.”

“Well, I’m sure you can persuade him,” Eleanor said. “The women in our family know how to get what we want.”

Her smile told Lilah that Eleanor was thinking of more than a woman getting a little help from a man with a divorce ceremony. Apparently all three ladies enjoyed men of every age, body type, personality type, ethnicity and any other attribute Lilah could think of. It had been eye-opening and surprising to hear about their exploits with various men over the years.

Which had left Lilah feeling as if she’d led a very sheltered life. She hadn’t admired from afar as many of the men as she should have up to this point, much less actually done the kind of things one didn’t do from afar with such men.

Which had her thinking of the judge.

Lilah certainly found it easy to admire so many of his attributes, both physical and otherwise, and she preferred not to do that from afar. Not with him.

“Kathleen, what did Wyatt tell us about the judge?” Eleanor asked. “Single? Married? Divorced?”

“Divorced, Wyatt said. Apparently, they were very young, and the marriage ended years ago.”

“Hmm. I was just thinking, if he still had some hard feelings over his own divorce, that might explain why he seems reluctant to help Lilah,” Eleanor said. “Any children?”

“No, none. Wyatt seemed to think he was quite sought-after among the ladies.”

“I’d certainly chase him, if I was twenty years younger,” Gladdy claimed.

“Twenty?” Kathleen just looked at her.

“It’s quite the thing these days, isn’t it? The … more mature woman and the younger man?”

Lilah laughed as softly as she could, covering her mouth with her linen napkin, but it was no use. The sound got out, and Eleanor and Kathleen joined her, then finally Gladdy.

“A woman should never be too old to appreciate a good-looking man,” Gladdy said.

“Amen to that,” Eleanor agreed.

“How old do you think he is?” Gladdy asked.

“Late thirties, I’m thinking,” Kathleen said. “He’s so distinguished.”

“No, mid-thirties. I believe he tries to look and act older than he is, given the job he holds,” Eleanor claimed.

“Oh, the joys of a younger man,” Gladdy said.

Which set them all to giggling again.

“Things just don’t work the way they used to, once a man gets some age on him,” Gladdy confided to Lilah. “Such a pity.”

“Gladdy, stop,” Kathleen pleaded.

“I’m just saying, there are distinct advantages to younger men,” Gladdy said. “You should remember that, dear, should you find yourself interested in anyone. So many women go for older men, I suppose for their money or power. But I’ve always preferred the younger ones. You don’t usually have performance problems with the young ones. I wouldn’t think the judge would have any problems at all in that regard.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lilah promised. “Although right now, the last thing I want or need is a man.”

The estate was scheduled to host an elegant wedding that weekend, and on Thursday evening, Lilah watched as various people came and went, seeing what the house was like as it was prepared for an event.

As the sun went down and the workers setting up chairs, tables and various equipment finally left, she went for a run, and after a quick, cool shower, she put on a comfy pair of pajamas, thankful that the house had quieted down around her.

In the walk-in cooler, she found an opened bottle of pinot noir, left over from a wine tasting with a bride and groom earlier in the week, and poured herself a glass.

She was on her second glass when she glimpsed the headlights of a car illuminating the driveway to the house. Eleanor, coming back from dinner in town, most likely. She thought she heard someone tap softly on the side door. Then, before she could answer it, the door opened, and in walked the judge.

Lilah groaned inwardly and glanced down at her attire.

Cropped pajama pants with a drawstring waist, a little spaghetti-strap top that didn’t quite come down as far on her waist as the pants, no bra, no makeup, hair still damp from the shower, two big glasses of wine inside of her.

Then there was the judge, looking all serious and judicial on her, with his perfect, dark suit, a crisp white shirt, dark tie and those lovely, classic dark looks of his. Dark hair, dark eyes, a bit of color to his face that suggested he spent some time in the sun regularly.

“Judge,” she said finally. “What a surprise.”

He gave her an odd, assessing look. He was holding what looked like a gift-wrapped wedding present, which he placed on the big island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Eleanor said that the side door would be open, that it was fine to just walk in. I was supposed to be at the wedding this weekend, but something came up at the last minute. She didn’t tell you I was coming?”

“No, but it’s been a hectic afternoon. Lots of people coming and going, getting ready for the wedding.” Did he think she’d be here, in her pajamas, if she’d known he was dropping by? “I thought you were Eleanor coming back from dinner.”

He shook his head. “I just need to drop off a wedding gift.”

“For the daughter of the state assemblyman? You’re friends?”

“Yes. We … uh … used to date,” he admitted.

“Oh.” That was interesting. “No hard feelings, I hope?” Lilah asked.

“She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman. I hope she’ll be very happy.”

“Sorry you’re going to miss the wedding. I’m sure it’s going to be lovely,” she said.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, studying her in the dim light. Nerves got to her once more, and she took a last sip of her wine. He watched her do that, then shifted his gaze to the nearly empty bottle she’d left on the countertop.

“Are you all right?” he asked finally.

“I didn’t empty the bottle myself, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s from a tasting earlier this week, left behind after a half-dozen people sampled it. I’ll admit to having a little bit of a buzz, though. Two glasses, and it went straight to my head. I should have just gone to bed.”

And then, oddly, she wished she hadn’t said the word bed.

Although it was true, she should have been there, safe in her bed, instead of here, alone with him this way, feeling vulnerable and sad and underdressed.

“Lilah, I can’t begin to figure you out,” he said.

“I know.” And he really didn’t like that. She could tell by the way he said it.

“And I can figure almost everyone out. I have to. It’s a very important part of my job. And I’m good at my job. Why can’t I figure you out?”

She laughed just a bit. “I’m not sure I understand myself that well, which is not a good thing. I’m not sure I’m … fully formed the way a woman my age should be….”

Oops. There she went again. Fully formed? Really, Lilah.

“See, right there. I can’t tell if you’re deliberately trying to be provocative or not.”

“No. Not this time,” she said. “I admit, I have … baited you in the past, and I’m sorry for that. I mean … I know I should be—”

“But you’re not sorry—”

“No. You just seem so … uptight.” There, she blurted it out.

“I’m not,” he argued. “I just happen to hold a very public position in the community, and there are things expected of me and my behavior.”

“Of course.”

“And you, from what I’ve seen, are a woman who prides herself on being as outrageous as possible—”

“No. Really, I don’t. I just … I want to be me, and not some buttoned-up, repressed version of me to please someone else.”

“I am not repressed,” he said with a bit of heat, clearly enunciating each word.

“No, I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about … someone else. Someone who did that to me. Or … no, I did that to myself, because it was my choice, and now, I choose not to do that anymore. I choose to be me, and I’m not changing for anyone. I promised myself that.”

He leaned back and studied her once more, shaking his head back and forth.

“I’ll try to be good from now on, I promise,” she tried.

“And there you go again. What are you doing?”

“Trying to apologize, to say I’ll stop baiting you.” She laughed a bit, couldn’t help it. Something about this man …

“You’re enjoying this!” He took a step closer, which actually put him a bit too close for comfort. “That’s what I keep thinking, that you know exactly what you’re doing. I think you like to play with people, shake things up, push people out of their comfort zone, shock them a bit.”

“Well, yes—the shake things up, push people out of their comfort zone part is true. People come to me because they’re uncomfortable with their lives. They want to change, and to bring about change, you have to shake things up. As a therapist—”

“I’m not talking about you as a therapist,” he said, taking one more step forward, until he was absolutely looming over her, crowding her, trapping her between the kitchen cabinets and his big, powerful body.

“Oh,” she said softly, when he was so close she could smell the scent he was wearing, something dark and spicy and very, very sexy. She could have stood there, happily, taking in that scent and feeling little waves of heat coming off his body for a long, long time. “You mean me …”

“As a woman, Lilah,” he said quietly, and his already deep voice got a little deeper and a whole lot sexier.

She gave a little shiver that was part pleasure and part … okay, no. All pleasure. Nothing but.

But toying with him?

Was she really?

She thought about it. She liked him, or liked poking at that very serious side of his to see if there was another side, a more fun side.

Was that toying?

Was it … too intrusive? Kind of mean? Annoying?

He wasn’t a patient, a student or even a friend. An acquaintance at best.

“Is it really so bad?” she asked him.

He growled, looking even more irritated with her. “Okay, just tell me. Is this some kind of come-on? Are you trying to start something?”

“No,” she said, honestly surprised and puzzled at that. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” he repeated. “I don’t know if I can be any clearer about the question. Are you trying to let me know you’re interested in me and to find out if I’m interested in you? Because, if that’s what it is, just say so. It might be … interesting.”

“Interesting?” She wasn’t sure at all how to take that. Strange? Amusing? Distracting? What?

“No, I’m certain it would be interesting,” he decided. “I’m just not sure it would be wise—”

“Fine,” she said. So it would not be smart to have anything like that to do with her? Gosh, he might have some fun. However would he handle that? “I’m fairly certain it’s not a come-on—”

“Fairly certain?” he repeated again.

“I…I …I had to think about it,” she said, practically tripping over her own words with nerves and maybe a hint of excitement, even anticipation. Damn. “I might have to think about it a little more before I’m absolutely sure. But you put me on the spot, and I did my best to give you an answer. I’m fairly certain I’m not coming on to you or trying to start something with you because … Well, just because … You’re really not my type … anymore.”

“Fine,” he said, as if it wasn’t fine at all. And then he leaned in closely enough that, for a moment, his mouth was only a breath away from hers, and said, “Let me make myself absolutely clear. I’m not a toy. Stop playing with me.”

“Well, if you insist,” she said, feeling something she could only label as regret. Over no longer playing with the judge? She looked him up and down, taking in the near scowl on his handsome, tanned face, the beautifully put together body, the sense of leashed power that seemed embedded in him at all times.

Maybe she had been coming on to him, like an unconscious reflex or something … Some need to try out her newfound freedom or just … feel like a woman again.

“See, right there,” he said, not backing up an inch. “You’re doing it again. Teasing, trying to provoke me.”

“No, I’m not. If I was truly trying to provoke you, I’d tell you that the little old ladies who live here spent their afternoon teatime telling me that someone needed to loosen you up—”

He groaned.

“And I’m pretty sure they think the person to do that should be me, though I have no idea why. Maybe they think it would be amusing to watch me toy with you—”

“Lilah, I swear, if you don’t—”

“And if I really wanted to mess with your head a little bit, I’d tell you that Gladdy spent the afternoon telling me about the … frustrations of dating a man of a certain age—”

“What could that possibly have to do with me?” he asked.

“That they have certain … performance issues …”

He looked both angry and a little bit horrified.

“You’re telling me that you and an eighty-something-year-old woman have been speculating about what I can or can not do all on my own in the bedroom?”

“Not me,” she insisted. “Gladdy. It was all her.”

“Unbelievable,” he said, still right up in her face, so angry, so very handsome.

He was breathing hard, his breath warm with a hint of mint as it fanned over her face, her mouth. His body was also so warm, and it had been so long since she’d been this close to a man, one she truly found attractive, even if he was maddening.

Part of her just wanted to cuddle up against him and enjoy all the warmth, the strength and solid bulk of a man. She was swaying toward him, she feared, and maybe … just maybe, he was swaying toward her, as if there was some kind of invisible force field between them, drawing them together.

She wasn’t sure if he was the one who moved closer or if she was, but she caught her breath at the contact, at how deliciously sexual it felt and how much she found herself wanting him in that moment.

He felt it, too.

She knew he did.

No hiding from it.

He either got a little turned on, arguing with a woman, or he wanted her … Okay, more than a little bit turned on, from that momentary brush of his body against hers.

Because he was most definitely aroused.

Gladdy was right, no pharmaceutical help necessary.

Lilah had been staring at the pattern of his tie, avoiding his gaze at all cost, but she finally gave in and looked him in the eye.

“Well, now you know. Satisfied?” he growled at her as he eased away.

No, not nearly.

But for once, she managed to hold her tongue, as he turned and walked away.