Jennifer's Garden

by Dianne Venetta

  She shook her head, then turned away.

  Jax gave her time. Speaking now would only be awkward and break the bond building between them.

  Outside, the rain eased its battering, leaving pools of water hammered across dirt and grass. It was a mess. Finishing the arbor wasn’t going to happen. Not today, anyway.

  Settling his gaze on the structure, it was his rationalization for staying late. A feeble excuse, he knew, but admitting there was no place he’d rather be than here, with her, was not going to happen. Not aloud, anyway.

  Dabbing her eyes with a finger, Jennifer returned to face him, her gaze as hard and direct as it was soft and knowing. “Your mom must have been a very special woman.”

  “She was.” No question. No hesitation. “The best of the best.”

  “And your father?”

  He stiffened. Though an innocent question, she might as well have kicked him in the gut. “What about him.”

  “Are you two close, as well?”

  “No,” he shook his head, the muscles in his jaw jumping.

  “Does he live in Miami?”

  “North Miami.”

  “Do you see each other often?”

  “No,” he replied and reached for his bottle of water.

  Although her questions were the natural extension of their personal discussion, he didn’t like the direction they were taking. There was a wrong-way road sign up ahead and he didn’t want to drive over the cliff, simply because she didn’t know they were headed for one.

  Confusion flickered in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jax, if I’ve said the wrong thing...”

  Narrowing his gaze, emotion hardened. “It’s not your fault.”

  Blue eyes pleaded. What isn’t my fault?

  “We don’t get along. Basically, the man is a corporate suck-up with a foul-smelling nose.”

  She crinkled her nose at the depiction.

  “The man never met an ass he didn’t like.”

  “I got it,” she said, raising a hand to end his elaboration. “Your description leaves little to the imagination.”

  “I’m sorry.” He shrugged it off. “He never approved of my choices and I never approved of his.”

  “Landscaping?”

  Jax took satisfaction in her surprise. “It would embarrass him to say his son was a landscape architect.”

  She balked. “Why?”

  “Flowers are for sissies,” he said, a bitter edge curling his words.

  “But that’s absurd! You have such talent!”

  Mildly warmed by her offense, he clarified. “Because it’s not a high-powered corporate position. Because I don’t have a college degree. Because I don’t give a damn about stocks and bonds. But mostly, he doesn’t think it’s respectable for a man to make his living planting daisies. Make that, his son.”

  Visions of their first meeting came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. Like you, Jax silently accused. The woman who didn’t want to hire a bartender doing landscape on the side. The woman who wouldn’t trust her lawn to the likes of me.

  “Jax, there’s more to success than a wall full of degrees. Paper doesn’t matter.”

  Jax took a step away from the table. “It matters to some.”

  “Not everyone.”

  Though he detected no insincerity, he pushed back. “It matters to you.”

  Jennifer sucked in her breath. “Jax, I—“

  “Doesn’t it? If I recall, you wanted a landscape architect—not a lawn guy.” The admission made him feel cheap. Resentful.

  When she didn’t respond, his body quieted. “I see.”

  With an edge sharp enough to slice through bone, he cut back, “Thanks for the water, but I’ve got work to do.” He turned to go, but she protested.

  “Jackson, wait.”

  He stopped. Though part of him wanted to keep going, to walk out that door and never look back, a larger part couldn’t. He needed to hear her denial. Needed to see for himself where she stood. Turning, he looked her straight in the eye and felt the blade close to his heart.

  Jennifer stilled.

  He held his breath.

  “You’re right.”

  The tip inserted clean into him.

  She took a step toward him, but seemed to think better of it and instead, grabbed hold of the chair between them. “It did matter.”

  The blade plunged. So he was right. Forget what he felt for her, how he thought they were connecting—he was wrong. She was as judgmental as any woman he’d met. Like his father, Jennifer Hamilton thought she was better than him.

  Fine. Jax turned to go.

  “But it doesn’t anymore.”

  He whipped back. Angered by the visceral disappointment he felt over her rejection, the subsequent patronizing, he demanded, “And how’s that?”

  “I’ve learned.”

  “Had an epiphany, have you?”

  Jennifer held her ground. “I was wrong, Jax, and I hope you’ll accept my apology. I said unkind things to you in the beginning, when I didn’t even know you. I had no right. I should have reserved judgment until I did. It would have saved me from acting like a fool.”

  His jaw slackened.

  Jennifer inhaled deeply before continuing, “You are a creative, hard-working, amazing landscaper and you have every right to be darn proud of yourself. Anyone would be. Would be, if they had an ounce of sense.”

  Her reference to his father was clear.

  “In addition to your many talents, you serve up one of the best wine spritzers I’ve ever tasted. Probably martinis, too, but those are...” a nervous chuckle escaped, “thankfully out of my realm of expertise.”

  Was she for real?

  “Mr. Montgomery, unless you plan on walking outside and catching gnats with that orifice, I’d suggest you close it.”

  Jax couldn’t believe the turnaround. Bringing lips together, he hesitated then stretched them into a smile. He wasn’t sure if she was playing him or exposing true regret, but either way, he found he cared little. “You’re funny.”

  “Not one of my more widely known attributes...” She briefly averted his gaze. “But thank you for noticing.”

  He brought hands to his hips and grinned.

  She grinned.

  God he wanted to kiss her. More open and exposed than he had ever seen her, Jennifer was humbled, but not disgraced. She had conceded, but not to defeat—far from it. She had conceded to victory.

  His.

  Never would he have guessed she had it in her. Never. But better than conceding to him, she claimed it for herself, and did so without conceit—an incredibly attractive feat.

  Desire pulled at him. What he wouldn’t give to crush his mouth over hers and slip past those clean, trim lips on that porcelain perfect face of hers for a taste of the woman inside... There was no doubt in his mind it would prove the sweetest delicacy on earth. He lingered over her face, her mouth. By far.

  Jennifer glanced to the door. “It’s stopped raining.”

  Eyes remaining solidly on her, he replied, “I see that.”

  She crossed arms over chest and assumed the tone of supervisor. Challenge leapt to her eyes. “Don’t you want to finish up out there?”

  “I should.”

  “May I join you?”

  Excitement swiped the knees clear out from under him. “You may, indeed.” With a slight bow he stepped back, laughter dancing beneath his breath. “Ladies first.”

  She brushed aside damp strands of hair, and offered a demure smile in thanks. Nearing him, he could smell the scent of shampoo in her hair, the sweet perfume remaining faint on her skin. Coupled with the small curves of her body sent a zing straight to his loin.

  Suppressing his welling desire with pronounced effort, Jax reached an arm ahead of her and opened the door. “Chivalry still counts in my book.”

  “Mine, too,” she replied, and her blue eyes softened, causing a stir deep within him.

  He moaned inwardly. Spending time with her at this point
without wanting more was going to take some doing.

  “What do you have left to complete for today?”

  The channel switch was innocent and jarring. Following her down the steps, he focused on plants and not the woman. “Just the mandevilla.”

  Which was tough. As she gazed across the lawn, her profile was delicate, alluring, her cheekbone begging for a slide of his hand along its fine line. Jax shoved both hands in his jean pockets.

  Across the yard, a wave of light lit up the rain washed landscape. Leaves glistened golden in the evening light, red flowers still heavy with water. Hanging from the trellis in healthy clumps, the vine begged to be lifted and wound through the boards properly for good support.

  “Looks like you’re about finished.”

  He smiled. Not nearly. Well, with the job maybe, but not with her. “Actually, it’s an intricate process, one that takes more care than first glance might imply.”

  “Can I help?”

  His eyes dropped. “Not dressed like that.”

  She glanced down at her unsullied professional perfection. When she returned her gaze to his he met her with a grin. “But you can supervise.”

  Her satisfied smile held a hint of self-consciousness as she brushed tousled wet hair behind an ear. “I think I can manage that.”

  “Yes you can, Dr. Hamilton. Most definitely that is within your realm of expertise!”

  She laughed, as did he, and walked alongside him to the arbor. Jax resumed his weaving of vine while she remarked on the color and how well it would blend. It was casual conversation about nothing, yet a major step toward healing.

  “Cheer-cheer-cheer-purty-purty-purty!”

  “What the...?” Jax turned at the abrupt siren-like noise.

  “Cheer-cheer-cheer-purty-purty-purty!”

  “What was that?”

  Jennifer laughed. “Why, it’s my finest rendition of the Cardinal, that’s what!”

  “The Cardinal?”

  She nodded with an impish grin. “I used to mimic them as a kid.”

  Jax arched a brow. “You’re pretty good, for someone who didn’t spend much time in the garden.”

  “Well... I guess I spent a little more time there than I thought. At least when I was younger. But I wasn’t weeding or picking through the flowers.”

  “No, just making friends with the wildlife.”

  She cocked her head in thoughtful recognition. “It passed the time.”

  “Why the Cardinal?”

  Jennifer paused, her smile dimmed.

  Jax feared he may have ruined the moment. Where her eyes held fond recollection, they were shadowed by sadness.

  “I chose the Cardinal because I felt sorry for him.”

  “Sorry for him? How?”

  “He couldn’t fit into my mother’s birdhouse.”

  Jax smiled tentatively, moved by the total seriousness of her expression. Was she kidding? “For real?”

  She glanced at him. “Silly, huh?”

  He shook his head. “Sweet.”

  Absolutely and completely sweet. And beautiful.

  From the treetops above a bird called out and the two looked up in unison, then back to each other, a shared smile pulling them one step closer.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tires screamed as the black limousine hurled itself around the corner, picking up speed with frightening purpose as it closed the space between them. Skidding to a stop, the car landed hard against the curb. A door swung open and a man approached.

  Alarm bells sounded

  His direction was clear. He was coming after her.

  After her!

  Jennifer rolled over in her bed. She gripped the pillow beneath her head.

  The stranger was quick. He grabbed her from behind, wrestled her toward the vehicle and shoved her inside. The screech of rubber pierced the quiet morning. A blindfold was pulled taut around Jennifer’s eyes. Her wrists were roughly tied together. A barrage of questions raced through her mind. What was happening? Who were they?

  Time vanished, her pleas for answers were ignored. Transported from car to plane, then to helicopter. Men exchanged words, orders were given, and she was whisked through a series of doors before being settled into a plush sofa.

  The blindfold was removed. Stunned, she realized she was on a boat. A bank of windows lined the expansive space, decorated like a gallery of fine art. Except the thug was present, a rifle slung casually across his chest.

  But what she found more troubling, was the older man seated in the center of the room. Dressed to perfection in a black suit, his light olive skin was smooth, his features refined, save for a small scar protruding from the edge of one eye. Feet away, he stared at her, an odd combination of quiet humor and keen curiosity mingling in his dark eyes. Whereas she sensed familiarity on his part, she had never seen him before in her life.

  “Welcome to my home, Jennifer.”

  “Why am I here? And what do you want with me?”

  “Ah, yes,” he said with a sigh. “You have questions.” He flicked his eyes toward his sentry, then to the door, before returning his gaze to her. The man left without a word. “I am sorry for my methods. They were unfortunate, but I had no choice.”

  “What do you mean?” Jennifer glared at him. “That is absurd. You have no right to take me against my will. Who do you think you are?”

  “I am Constantine Pappas, a great admirer of yours.” A gentle smile caressed his lips. “You work at one of my hospitals, and may I say, you are magnificent.” His voice was tame, yet his intensity was unmistakable. “I had to be with you.”

  Her gut twisted. “Be with me. What does that mean?”

  “I want you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “For my own. For always...”

  The last word faded into the air between them.

  He stood. “Freshen up. Dinner is at eight, on deck. I’ll be waiting.” With a small smile he was gone.

  She bolted from the sofa. Scanning the horizon forward and back, nothing but sparkling blue-green water as far as the eye could see, Jennifer searched for shore. Nothing. Her spirits sank. There was no running from a ship at sea.

  Jennifer rolled to her opposite side.

  “Ah, my dear,” Constantine murmured as she emerged on deck. “You take my breath away.” He smiled. “That dress is my favorite. I knew you’d be stunning in it.”

  White and simple, made from the softest silk she had ever touched, it was cut to the curve of her body. The halter top was sexy without being blatant, revealing a mere hint of the woman beneath. Strappy gold sandals, completely foreign to her normal style, completed the outfit.

  Originally she had no intention of joining him, or wearing anything he provided, but hiding in her room would get her no closer to escape. The only thing that mattered.

  The table was dressed in white linen and silver, with vibrant red tulips arching lazily from a simple glass vase. Glancing about, she took note of the Cristal on ice, beads of water glistening from the golden bottle like morning dew. Fresh strawberries and grapes were piled high in a bowl accompanied by soft cheese, dark olives and a loaf of bread. A brilliant sunset filled the sky to her right with a gorgeous mix of pink and blue while a warm breeze danced across her skin. She filled her lungs with the crisp scent of the ocean.

  “I’m so glad you decided to join me. I feared you might stay in your room and refuse.”

  She warily took her seat. “Not much of a choice, is it.”

  “May I pour you some champagne?”

  She shook her head.

  Constantine poured her some anyway and urged, “Have something to eat, Jennifer.”

  “Why am I here? What is this all about?”

  “A few years ago, during a visit to the hospital, I suffered a mild heart attack. You assisted with my care.” His eyes softened. “You were extraordinary. So thorough and concerned, almost personal, as though I were a cherished loved one.”

  Her patients. Je
nnifer’s heart tightened at the thought of never seeing them again.

  “You advised me to consider my lifestyle and make any changes necessary to ensure a long and prosperous future.” Constantine smiled. “I did as you recommended.”

  “Forgive me,” she said, “but if you wanted to be with me, why take me against my will?”

  “I don’t have the time.”

  She balked. “We’re sitting here, roaming around the middle of nowhere. Why not dinner in a restaurant?”

  “You may have said no.”

  “And...”

  “I couldn’t have accepted that.”

  The finality to his voice cut her to the quick.

  Jennifer clutched her sheets to her chin. Images of the dream streamed through her mind, transcending time and place. Unbelievable visions, unacceptable positions, save for the safety of her sub-conscious.

  The tepid breeze tossed her dark brown hair about her shoulders, blowing long bangs across her face. Careless to the other men on board, most of whom she never saw but was keenly aware existed as captain and mates, chefs and stewards, she walked out on deck and stopped at the edge of the table. The full-length lingerie was blue, like her eyes, with an intricate lace bodice that fit snugly at the breast. Her eyes were fixed upon his. Her old life was no more. Life would go on, had to go on, with or without her.

  “Oh my...” Constantine swallowed hard.

  “You are a goddess.” Though not roaming up and down, she was certain his eyes were taking in her body in its entirety. Strange, but she was apprehensive, excited and hopeful at the same time.

  “Well?” she prompted, seeking his approval. “Do you like it?” Wearing sexy underwear had never been her thing, yet here, with him, she found it titillating.

  “Oh, I more than like it...”

  The compliment caused a hot rise to her cheeks.

  “You are the kind of woman men live and die for, Jennifer.” Fire leaped to his eyes. “Come here.”

  Without a second’s hesitation, she moved toward him, despite the uncustomary hardness to his voice.

  “I have to touch you.”

  The words sent shivers racing through her body.

  Lifting his hand, Constantine allowed his eyes to fall upon her chest. He touched her skin with his finger and skimmed the border of fabric along her breast. The tingles created by his touch turned her skin into a sheet of goose pimples, inflaming her want, swelling her loin with desire.