Kitabı oku: «Secret Admirer», sayfa 4
Chapter 6
Wednesday evening
Jane seethed as she swallowed a nervous breath against the panic that threatened to overpower her. She tilted her chin upward, fighting not to glance at Matt, who was surrounded by kids and their mothers, all wanting to buy tickets to his armadillo races and chicken-flying contests.
Harper was good. What was the use of even trying to compete with him? He could beat her with both his hands tied behind his back. Once again he’d proved that her hard work and discipline and careful planning were nothing against his gut instinct, common touch and savvy charisma. While he was too busy to believe manning his armadillo races and chicken-flying contests, she’d hardly sold a pie. Anytime he had a free second, he strode up and down among the throng hawking his wares.
She clicked her nails against the counter and tried not to feel bored or depressed at her failures or resent the excellent job Matt and his brother, Jerry Keith, had done building booths for her under the bleachers of the baseball stadium. They’d worked cheerfully until nearly 2:00 a.m. last night. Even though Matt had been exhausted, he’d insisted on following her home, which was out of his way.
“Just to make sure you get there safely,” he’d said.
“Like you really think there might be a criminal lurking behind every mesquite tree and cactus bush,” she’d replied.
“Is it a major crime I want to protect you?” His handsome face had been touchingly earnest as she’d slid behind the wheel.
She was fighting to be a good sport about his popularity. After all, he was outdoing himself for a good cause. Her cause. The nagging question was—why? To help her? For the cause? Or to improve his position as contender for director of market research?
She was afraid she knew the answer.
While stragglers trickled by her booth to buy cakes or pies or bicker about her prices, Matt patiently answered his young fans’ nonstop questions in between armadillo races. For the most part, Jerry Keith was manning the chicken-flying booth, which was almost as popular. Feathers were flying, chickens were squawking and kids were running wildly about inside the screened booth, screaming in delight.
Upon the rare occasions when Jane sold a cake or pie, she couldn’t help glancing at Matt, hoping he’d see she wasn’t a total loser. He always smiled back at her.
“Are armadillos really really fast, Mr. Harper?” squealed cute little ten-year-old Susanna Hays, who was jumping back and forth, causing her red pigtails to bounce.
Matt knelt so that he was at eye level with the excited little girl. “When they think you’re tracking ’em down to carve out their insides so you can sell ’em on the side of the road as baskets, they can skitter away over the rocks mighty dern fast.”
Susanna stilled. “Do bad people really do that?”
“Mostly they’re slow though,” said Beaver Jackson, pushing his rumpled black Stetson back. His tone was authoritative because he was in the sixth grade. “I got one. Wumpus I call him. He’s my pet.”
“I’ve got one too,” Matt said, looking up and winking at Jane.
Oh, why didn’t somebody, anybody, come up and buy a pie?
“I got a scorpion for a pet,” another little boy said. “In a bottle with holes in the cap.”
“Well, don’t let him out in the house,” Matt warned, patting him on the head.
Pretty Annie Grant, the bank teller, and Greg Flynn, a local cop, were ambling among the tables side by side, pretending not to be too interested in each other as they eyed the items to be sold in the silent auction. Annie wrote her name down beneath several items, including the card to buy Jane’s cooking services.
Matt watched Annie and then nodded at Jane.
Good. She was glad he’d noticed that at least somebody appreciated her cooking skills. She said a quick prayer that somebody would buy more of her pies so she could sell out and leave. Just being around Matt made her hot and edgy.
“Got any ideas about who wrote that love letter?” cracked a voice to her right as he slapped a ten-dollar bill down. “Two strawberry pies, please.”
Jane turned. Ol’ Bill Sinclair’s weather-beaten face looked like a human road map, but his bright blue eyes twinkled at her with more mischief than most youngsters. Obviously he knew Matt wrote it.
“I have an idea or two,” she said, not looking at him as she rung up the sale.
“A lot of people do,” he said, glancing toward Matt. “You two did a mighty good job together on these booths.”
“Matt and his brother did most of it.”
“Matt damn sure has a way with kids.”
No sooner had Ol’ Bill Sinclair paid for his stacks of pies than Matt left his own booth and fans. He stalked straight to the display that described her cooking services, which were to be auctioned.
Feelings of triumph turned to horror when he leaned over and studied the paper with an air of intense interest. A lock of inky hair fell across his dark eyebrow when he lifted the paper and took out a pen.
No! No! Don’t you dare!
Bending lower, he scribbled something on the paper, glanced her way and smiled wickedly before returning to his cheering horde. Soon afterward a crowd began to gather around her display. She sucked in air.
What had he done?
Soon, she was so curious and terrified to know, she was wringing her hands when Ol’ Bill patted her shoulder and said, “Don’t you fret. I’ll go check it out.”
Was she so obvious?
Ol’ Bill was back at her booth before she could blink twice. Not that she much liked the mischievous glint in his blue eyes.
“Looks like your Harper’s done gone and bought himself the prettiest little cook in town.”
“He’s not my Harper.”
“Well, maybe you’re his then. He bid five thousand dollars for your cooking services.”
Her cheeks flamed. Her heart raced. She’d kill Harper for this. She would!
“With conditions,” Ol’ Bill amended softly.
“With conditions?” she parroted.
“Girl, I knew you was a cook, but he must want your services mighty bad. Ain’t nobody but a fool with money to burn gonna top that bid. You and he go back a long way, don’t cha?”
She could feel her cheeks heating now. “We don’t go back at all. And don’t you dare print a word about this in the Gazette. And don’t you dare tell my mother about this either.”
Ol’Bill chuckled. “She’s psychic, remember. She predicted you’d be born in a special way, just didn’t see how.”
“Don’t you dare go into the particulars of that event either.”
“What I’m trying to say is everybody in town already knows about you and Matt.”
“Did he write that love letter?”
Ol’ Bill winked at her. “He’s never been one to declare himself. But don’t you worry none. It’ll all come out in the wash, sweetheart.”
He had written it.
Well, that didn’t give him rights over her!
“It certainly will come out in the wash,” she said as she lifted the wooden door to her booth, slammed it down so hard the whole booth shook and strode over to the display that offered her cooking services. Sure enough, Matt’s name was a sloppy swirling scrawl of livid black ink ten times bigger than the other neatly written names. In addition, he’d penned, “Five thousand dollars. With conditions.”
As she read the enormous black letters and reread that incredible figure, the home team struck a home run, and the crowd in the bleachers began to stomp and roar again. The sound was so deafening, she covered her ears.
Suddenly Matt was beside her. When he put his arms protectively around her, she began to quiver even as she pushed him away.
“How could you bid five thousand dollars for a few meals? Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Going after what I want.” He slid his checkbook out of his hip pocket and uncapped his pen. “After all, it’s for a cause we both believe in.” His bold gaze drifted from her mouth to her neck.
She gasped, afraid they’d drift lower to her breasts. They didn’t. Instead he leaned over the table and wrote her a check for five thousand dollars.
After a moment or two she caught her breath.
He handed her the crisp blue check, which was indeed made out for five thousand dollars.
“Don’t play games, Harper. What do you mean by…er…conditions?”
“I want breakfast in bed every morning up until the Spring Fling. I’m not picky when it comes to food. Just geography, which is you serving me breakfast in my bed.”
“What?”
“Don’t look so shocked. Villains like me always prefer to lure the damsels they want to their den to seduce them.”
She pushed her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose. “I will not sleep with you! Or kiss you! Or…or…”
“Oh, and wear your hair down, darlin’, and lose the glasses. You’re much prettier without them—as I’m sure you know.”
“I’m blind as a bat without my glasses.”
“Your mother bought you contacts years ago.”
“You have no right to know that.”
“Everybody in Red Rock knows everything, darlin’. It’s part of the town’s charm. Lose the glasses.”
She was wondering what to do when her friend Annie, who happened to work at the bank Matt’s check had been drawn on, walked by again.
“Oh, Annie!” she cried, afraid to be alone with Matt for another second.
Annie turned and smiled. She was pretty and tall. Her lush red hair was down tonight, and her brown eyes were warm and friendly as she made her way toward them.
“I heard you two were working together on this,” she said, looking pleased. “You did a great job. Everybody’s so happy you finally made up.”
“We have not made up,” Jane said.
“Oh. I thought—”
“Yes, we have,” Matt said.
Jane handed her the check. “Is this good or not?”
Annie looked up at Matt, her sweet face uncertain now.
He nodded.
“As good as gold,” Annie replied sweetly.
“I guess that settles it then,” Matt said. With the swiftness of a swooping hawk, he grabbed her hand. “You’re mine, darlin’.” His green eyes darkened possessively as he pulled her closer.
Usually she applauded people who were clear about their goals, but he was too much, and she was drowning.
“Starting tomorrow,” he persisted, “I want breakfast in bed every day until the Spring Fling.”
She yanked her hand free. Speechless and quivering from too many overwrought emotions, she turned to walk away.
“And, oh, Jane—”
She whirled. “What else?” she demanded in a contemptuous breath.
His fathomless eyes were boring holes into her. “I can’t wait,” he purred, “until tomorrow morning.”
Her nerves leaped. Her heart beat faster. She was slow to answer, but when she did, her mouth curved seductively and she could see she’d surprised him.
“Neither can I,” she whispered. “You’re in for quite a surprise.”
“Good. It’s about time you decided you have a right to have some fun. We’d be good together.”
Chapter 7
Jane got to Matt’s ancient, blue trailer about 7:00 a.m. It had rained during the night, but the sun was up and bathing the trees and his horrendously ostentatious, three-story mansion with a magical sparkling peach light.
For a moment she stared at the tasteless house that was obviously being built to impress. The man was too much. There were gaudy turrets and too many rooflines, but doves were cooing around an enormous birdbath. A gray cat lurked underneath a bush nearby. Jane liked the trees and the quiet, and the way the woodsy, warm air smelled sweetly of cedar. She liked the fact that he had a cat, too.
What was she thinking, coming here? Well, there was nothing for it but to deal with Mr. Harper as fast as possible so she could check him off her to-do list and get herself safely to work.
Quickly she got out of her Honda. With an apprehensive smile, she picked up the breakfast tray stacked with covered plates she’d prepared and picked her way across the rocky ground to his trailer.
Scared as she was at facing the devil in his lair, she couldn’t help noting that except for the trailer and the house, it really was pretty out here. Dewdrops sparkled on the leaves and turned a spiderweb into a carelessly tossed diamond necklace clinging to the branches of the live oak that shaded his trailer.
Curious, the gray cat followed her and leaped onto a large cardboard box with a picture of a window air-conditioning unit on it. The big box looked too wide to go through the door. Maybe that’s why it had been shoved to the side of a rickety set of stairs.
When she placed her foot onto his first flimsy step, the wood sagged, and her heart began to beat with alarm. The trailer was dark and silent and uninviting. Hesitantly, she lifted her hand to the door, but before she could knock, a deep, sleep-slurred voice that made her nerves vibrate said, “Come on in, darlin’.”
The cat dashed expectantly up to the door and me-owed. For a second or two Jane lingered, studying the fat black spider resting in the center of its web. The spider had several victims already. One was a pretty, blue butterfly still struggling to get loose.
Jane swallowed. She’d dressed carefully in a high-collared white blouse, long blue skirt that brushed her ankles, and white cowboy boots. The better to stomp into his trailer and kick him if he got fresh, she’d thought. She’d worn her glasses, and her hair was snug against her nape and secured with even more pins than ever. Some vain, rebellious part of her regretted that the hairdo, glasses and understated makeup had succeeded in making her look so severe and icy.
Cautiously she stuck her head inside his door while the cat scurried past her. The shadowy trailer was hot, but the coast appeared to be clear to the sink and stove, so she was inside before she realized he’d been asleep on the couch, which meant he was right beside her and close enough to grab her.
When he sprang to a sitting position, white sheets fell to his waist. Even in the semidarkness she could see that he was lean and nut brown—everywhere. Which meant he wasn’t wearing much. If anything.
His broad shoulders, wide chest and powerful arms were made of sculpted muscle. His drowsy green eyes, and his heavy, tousled black hair made him look so adorable she had to fight for her next breath. With an effort, she pretended to ignore the funny little darts of excitement zinging through her stomach. She knew she should glance away, but then he looked up at her and blushed shyly, and his gaze seemed full of longing. Was the blush a trick? Did he feel shy and vulnerable around her too? It was strange to think such a thing, that he might not always be as sure and cocky as she assumed he was.
Whatever he felt, he was not to be trusted.
Suddenly, maybe because he was so near and looked so male and dear, the trailer felt stifling, and she was burning up. The longer she looked at his wide shoulders and dark chest while she imagined those other more exciting male parts of him under the sheet, the hotter and damper she got.
“You’d better not be naked!” she squeaked when his cat jumped onto the couch and began to purr.
“You’re welcome to rip the sheet off and see.”
“A dirty trick like that from the likes of you wouldn’t surprise me. Well, I’m not afraid of you.”
“I don’t want you to be.” His white smile charmed her.
Shaking a little, she went over to the couch and carefully laid the tray in his lap.
“It wasn’t a dirty trick. It was just awful hot last night, darlin’, and you’re a little early this morning…like always. You had me so busy building those booths for you and then taking them down, plus working for your fund-raiser, that I was too tired to install my blasted window unit last night.”
The cat walked over to inspect the tray she’d brought.
“Get down, Julie Baby.” Gently he pushed the cat off the couch and lifted the cover from the first plate. Several slices of wet, blackened pieces of toast lay on the plate. She’d cooked them last night and left them out in the rain. When he removed the cover from a second plate, his black eyebrows arched warily at the smell of fermentation.
“Creative. Resourceful. Where’d you find the rotten apples on such short notice?”
“In my compost heap.”
“And you accuse me of dirty tricks. Looks like we’re made for each other, darlin’.” His quick grin as he shoved the tray aside was disarming. “But, hey, no time like now to find out, is there?”
Before she could run, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto his lap.
He was definitely naked. She could feel him under the thin folds of the sheet.
“Our deal didn’t include anything but breakfast,” she said primly, struggling to free herself until she realized the slightest movements of her hips against his only heightened his arousal.
“You didn’t fulfill your part of the bargain, darlin’,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck while yanking pins out of her hair. “I bid five thousand dollars for services you have yet to render. Now you have to pay.”
Her hair cascaded to her shoulders in skeins of shimmering silk.
“Much better,” he said. “And now off with the glasses.”
“What do you want?” she asked weakly as he removed them.
“The same thing you do,” he replied huskily.
“The position of director of market research?”
“Among other things.” He used both hands to pull her snug against his body, which made her achingly aware of how hard and muscular his thighs were against hers.
“Let me go.”
“This is way more fun than breakfast.” He lifted her hair and lowered his head. With his tongue, he explored her nape. Somehow the gesture was so sweet and sexy and loverly, she could barely breathe.
“Do you know what you do to me, darlin’? Do you know how delicious you are?”
“Do you say such things to everybody?”
“No, you’re very special.” He buried his hands in her hair, wrapping heavy coils around his fist so he could tilt her head back and pull her face closer to his.
“I don’t believe you.”
His insistent lips nibbling her flesh were sending wild tremors along the nerves of her jawline.
“Believe me.”
“What about Carol?”
“Forget Carol.”
“But you two just broke up.”
“Which is a wonderful thing when you think about it, because her leaving made space in my life for the right person.”
A swimming giddiness spun her round and round. She had to get up. She had to get out of here, but he was like a magnet, drawing her, compelling her. She’d never ever felt like this, all hot and hollow and wild.
“You’ll say anything,” she whispered.
“You’re wrong about me, darlin’.”
Feeling jealous of Carol, she wanted to snap out something cruel and clever and hurtful, but for some reason she couldn’t think of a single insult. Maybe because she desperately wanted to believe she was wrong about him. Maybe because she didn’t want him to stop kissing her neck or holding her close and making her feel all warm and sexy.
Had Carol seen him completely naked? Had he held her like this? Kissed her until she was so dizzy she was breathless? Made love to her? On this very couch?
A little moan escaped Jane’s lips.
Don’t come crying to me when he gets himself snapped up by some floozy, and you realize you’re in love with him.
Jane hated it when her mother got inside her brain and said crazy, stupid things that scared her.
When Jane stopped struggling and turned into him, his lips left her neck. Then he leaned closer, bringing his mouth tantalizingly near her own, so close she could almost taste him. Thinking he was going to kiss her, she licked her lips and closed her eyes. She felt strangely excited and he hadn’t even kissed her mouth yet.
He was solid and strong, yet she felt his powerful body shaking as he drew each ragged breath. She had the feeling that if she stuck one little toe into this burning tide, she would be swept away. Her head fell back against the couch in an attitude of utter surrender.
He went very still for a long moment. Then much to her surprise, he abruptly let her go and slid to his end of the couch.
She opened her eyes in hot confusion.
He was staring at her as if he felt as lost and disoriented as she did.
She was in the mood to be ravaged, but he looked vulnerable and unsure.
“You’d better go,” he said softly.
Not for the world was she about to admit that what she felt was the oddest pang of bittersweet loss and aching disappointment that he’d stopped. Was she nothing more than a game to him?
“You’d better git, darlin’, while the gittin’s good,” he repeated calmly.
“What?”
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to resist me if I start kissing you, darlin’. A lot of women can’t, you know.”
Her eyebrows flew together.
“You’re one love-starved woman, darlin’.” He chuckled.
She pulled away. “Are you laughing at me? Comparing me to—”
“Looks like I’ve gotta get up, get my own breakfast,” he replied, still in that infuriatingly calm tone. “And since I’m stark naked, you’d better go, unless you want to see more of me than you bargained on.”
Her eyes grew huge. Gone was the sweet vulnerable Matt of moments before. Once again he was the old mocking Matt she remembered from grade school.
“You can stay, of course. If you intend to deliver. You know me—I love an audience when I show off, and my favorite audience is an admiring woman.”
“I don’t admire you.” Somehow she managed to stand up even though her legs were trembling. “I don’t admire one thing about you.”
“Then you’d better leave, before I change your mind. I could, you know—easily.”
When he stood, too, and his sheet began to tumble toward the floor, she whirled away from him and fled out the door. But she turned at the last moment and got an eyeful of Matt Harper.
The devil was built like some dark pagan god of love.
“Oh my God…You did it.”
“Told you you’d admire me. Wanna stay?”
He laughed when she kept staring at him openmouthed.
“Well, make up your mind before it’s too late for us to call in sick.”
“I’m thrilled with the money you two raised,” Andrea said to Jane and Matt from behind her desk. Her lowkey voice, smooth and professional as she thumbed through the pages of Jane’s report on the fund-raiser. “I knew you two would work well together.”
“Jane can be difficult,” Matt said. “She’s a little uptight. Quite the perfectionist.”
“I was perfectly happy working alone,” Jane muttered through her teeth. She’d been a bundle of nerves ever since he’d lowered his sheet and she’d fled his trailer this morning. His teasing remark was too much. It was all she could do to contain herself.
“Not me, Mr. King of Schmooze. I can get along with anybody.”
Jane clenched her fists. With an effort she relaxed her hands and forced a weak smile. If she made a scene, that would only make him look better, which he would use against her.
Matt was beautifully dressed in a navy suit and pristine-white shirt this morning. Even his tie was dark and subdued.
“Your bid was exceedingly generous,” Andrea said, smiling at him.
“It’s a good cause. Dear to my heart, the company’s and Jane’s.”
He’s good, Jane thought bitterly. Playing it to the hilt.
“Hey, and Jane’s an…er…inspired cook. Breakfast this morning was…er…” He winked at Jane. “A unique experience.”
Since Andrea couldn’t possibly see their legs, Jane gave him a swift, sharp kick in the shin.
“Ouc-ch…er…and…unforgettable,” he said, suppressing a yelp as he leaned down to rub his shin.
“Well, I just wanted to take a moment to thank both of you. And thanks as well for getting your report to me so fast, Jane. I can’t wait to show it to the board. I’m sure we raised more money than any other company in the building this year—again. Thanks to both of you!”
Jane smiled at Andrea and stood up to go.
“I’d love to work with you on another project,” Matt said to Jane.
“Good day, Harper,” Jane said, frowning when he got up and limped out the door.
“Something wrong with your leg, Matt?” Andrea asked so sweetly Jane did a slow burn.
Not that she stayed to hear his answer. On her way out of the building to drive home late that afternoon, she noticed a huge bouquet of flowers on Stephanie’s desk, from the same florist Matt had used.
She stopped to admire them. “Very pretty. Who sent them?” Jane asked.
“Carl,” Stephanie said dreamily.
Carl was a lawyer for Fortune TX.
“At first he wouldn’t admit it. He was so cute about it, teasing me about having a secret admirer.”
Thinking of Matt, Jane backed away quickly.
Love was definitely in the air. The last thing she needed was more exposure to that dreaded disease.
Ücretsiz ön izlemeyi tamamladınız.
