Jade

by Jill Marie Landis

  Jade watched him as he left her standing alone in the foyer. She turned around and glanced back at the front door, then toward Jason Harrington’s retreating figure. There were things she should see to, but it was too late in the day to contact the bank, and she knew that finding a place to stay would have to wait until the morrow. What harm would there be in staying a few moments longer? “Mr. Harrington, I can only stay a—”

  She heard him call out from farther down the hallway, “It’s J.T. Call me J.T. or Jason.”

  When he disappeared around a corner, Jade rolled her eyes and hurried after him.

  J.T. TRIED TO KEEP up a running conversation with. Jade Douglas as he prepared a simple meal of ham steaks and fried potatoes. As he sliced the potatoes, he paused to look over at the woman seated on a tall stool beside the butcher-block table in the center of the room. He could tell by the uneasy expression on her face that he would have to keep up a steady stream of talk or she would likely bolt, which made him wonder why she had really come in the first place. She stared around the overly large kitchen, and he could see by her wide-eyed gaze and the way she fidgeted on the stool that she was as uncomfortable in the grand atmosphere as he.

  As the late afternoon sunlight streamed into the windows it highlighted the sunset color of her hair. Arrested by the sight, Jason paused, a handful of potatoes suspended above the frying pan. He smiled at her.

  She shifted again and looked away.

  He dropped the potatoes in the pan, careful not to spatter himself with the hot oil, and then picked up his spatula again. “You said you were staying with this disappearing friend?”

  Her chin went up a notch. “I am. Her name is Barbara Barrett. She knew you were in town because her husband is a member of your attorney’s club.”

  “So it was a legitimate social call.”

  Offended, she stiffened. “Of course, I told you it was.”

  “What about the nonsense about helping me fit in?”

  She crossed her arms and shook her head, but could not hide a grin. “I still think you are decidedly lacking in tact and manners.”

  J.T. smiled. “I have to admit, I have been teasing you a bit, Miss Douglas. And as far as my appearance,” he added, glancing down at his none-too-clean denims, “the next order of business was to have been cleaning myself up.”

  She colored with embarrassment and stared down at her folded hands.

  “Are you from San Francisco originally?” he asked.

  “I was born here, but I’ve been away, studying.”

  Her silly excuse for a hat was still squatting atop the upswept pile of thick red-blond hair that she had tricked into some sort of fancy ‘do’. He wondered how she would react if he reached out, as he wanted to, and removed that bit of fluff and feathers and pulled the pins from her hair.

  There was something childlike and vulnerable about her that even her fancy get-up could not disguise. For all her outward polish and poise, there was an insecurity about her, something in her eyes that revealed an underlying unease with him that gave J.T. cause to wonder why. Whenever he would catch her eye, she would look away and stare down at the plate he set before her, or toy with her silverware.

  “Do you plan on staying in San Francisco now that you’ve come home, Miss Douglas?”

  “Please, call me Jade.”

  He was silent until she looked him directly in the eye. Hers were deep green and innocent. “Were you named for the color of your eyes?”

  She shook her head. “No, actually, my given name was Melcena, but my grandfather loved Chinese art pieces. He took, to calling me Precious Jade when I was a baby, and the name stuck. It seems I’ve always been Jade.”

  “And so, Jade, are you going to live here permanently?”

  “It’s my home. What about you?”

  He turned the potatoes, scraping the crispy, brown edges from the side of the pan. “No. I’ll be leaving as soon as I clear up my father’s estate.”

  He glanced at her momentarily, hoping he might see disappointment in her eyes. If she’d come to cozy up to him because of his inheritance, it was best to let her know she was wasting her time. She was studying him carefully.

  “Leaving for . . . ”

  “Back to New Mexico. I live with my Uncle Cash and his wife, Guadalupe, near Taos. We breed horses. I’m planning to use the money I’ve inherited to build up Cash’s stock and fix up the ranch.”

  He sensed discomfort in her silence and so continued. “The ranch is in a canyon fed by natural springs. You should see it this time of year.”

  “It must be lovely.”

  “It is. Since the day I saw the ranch I knew why my uncle wanted to live there. A natural spring from the Sangre de Cristo Mountains keeps the place green, and the altitude keeps the water cool, even in summer. There’s a timelessness about the place that’s hard to describe. I often wonder if it isn’t because of the ancient pueblo nearby.” He thought of home and how he enjoyed nothing more than to ride the open range, where the only sounds he heard were the creak of his leather saddle and the jingle of his spurs.

  J.T. reached out and filled her plate with potatoes and added a slice of warmed ham. She picked up her fork and took a bite of potato. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Her complexion brought images to his mind of the flowers in his aunt’s garden—her skin was clear and white as a primrose, her cheeks sun-kissed with the soft pink of desert verbenas. Jade’s hair made him think he was staring into the last rays of a New Mexican sunset.

  Despite the sophisticated dress and the cool demeanor she had momentarily affected in the hallway, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He found himself wondering how he could get her to open up to him—and why he even wanted her to, knowing he would be leaving so soon. “I found a place in Monterey on the way here where I plan to buy more palominos.”

  She sighed and rested her chin in her hand, then set her fork aside.

  “Don’t you like it?” he asked, pointing his own fork at her plate.

  “It’s delicious,” she said, “but I think I’m too tired to eat. It hasn’t been a very good day.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  The silence lengthened. She fidgeted again. What he knew about her didn’t amount to a pile of pinfeathers.

  “Mind telling me what you were studying?” J.T. asked.

  “Chinese. For five years I lived with a missionary family in Paris who had been stationed in China.”

  “What about your folks? Didn’t they want you home before now?”

  He couldn’t fathom being away from his aunt and uncle or the ranch for more than a few weeks. Even the short time he had already been on the trail was beginning to wear on him. Home was a place he valued above all others; everything he needed was nestled in the spring-fed canyon in the mountains of New Mexico Territory. At least it had been, until he found himself face-to-face with Jade Douglas.

  Jade shrugged and toyed with one of the fabric-covered buttons that fronted her gown. “Grandfather has been dead for three years. My mother passed away just before I left, and my father . . . well, my father was far too occupied with his business to care. I returned only after I learned of his death.” Her expression was shuttered.

  He wondered how she could speak so casually of her father’s death, and then realized he had not anguished a moment over his own recent loss. “What did your father do for a living?”

  “Whatever was profitable.” She shifted. “You have to know San Francisco to understand. Speculation is a way of life here for some, and has been since the gold rush. My father was adept at using people’s dreams to further his own.”

  “Was he on the good side of the law?” Was her father responsible for the wary look behind her eyes? he wondered.

  “Somehow h
e was always one step ahead. If he was selling shares in a silver mine, there really was one available, but not as abundantly lined with ore as he would claim.”

  “So he was pretty well set for life?” With a quick glance around the room, he wondered how many coffee beans his father had imported to accumulate such wealth. When he saw Jade’s wistful smile, his attention centered on her again.

  “My father wasn’t immune to reinvesting in many of the kinds of schemes he found so lucrative. There is always a bigger shark in the sea, and he fell prey to some of them.”

  She made no further comment, so J.T. decided not to press her. He watched her lift her head, stare around the now dimly lit room, and frown. Abruptly, she stood.

  “I have to go.” Her stunning green eyes met his full on at last. “Thank you for the meal.”

  “It wasn’t much, and you hardly ate any of it.” He looked at his own empty plate.

  “It was delicious.”

  When she smiled to reassure him, he felt his heart trip inside like a newborn, stumbling colt. He watched the tint of her cheeks deepen from a soft sunrise pink to a deep rose red. When she cast her gaze downward again, he was treated to the sight of her thick golden lashes. In that instant, he knew he couldn’t let her just walk out of his life, no matter why she had come knocking at his door.

  She picked up the gloves she had set aside and he waited until she drew them on. He watched her work the soft leather over her fingers, could almost feel the fingers that stroked and smoothed the kid over the back of her hand, and somehow knew what it would feel like if she were ever to touch him so tenderly.

  He cleared his throat. “I have an appointment later—dinner with my father’s attorney. As you said, I need all the help I can get—”

  “Jason, I . . . I’m sorry. I was mad at Babs for leaving so abruptly, and I’m afraid I tried to take it out on you.” She glanced at the matted curls that sprung from beneath the wide-brimmed hat that still rode the crown of his head.

  He shrugged off her apology. “I was thinking that since you offered, maybe you wouldn’t mind staying while I wash up. Maybe you could pick out something for me to wear? The closet upstairs is full of clothes that look like they’ve never even been worn.”

  His expression shadowed. Knowing that his father had never lived here, he wondered why the man had even bothered to stock the closet with clothing. “I’d be obliged if you would join Matt and me for dinner.”

  Jade glanced around the kitchen again. While they had talked, the October afternoon had dimmed to twilight. She really had to go. If anyone but Babs knew that she spent the afternoon alone with this man, her reputation would be ruined. Not only would she have to deal with the notoriety of her father’s murder, but with a scandal of her own as well.

  “I’m afraid I’ve really overstayed my visit. You don’t understand San Francisco, Jason. I shouldn’t even be here with you like this.”

  “It’s broad daylight,” he said, knowing full well he should have taken her home an hour ago, but instead of giving in to convention, he found he wanted her to stay.

  “It’s a big house,” she countered.

  “You said you came to help me, now I’m asking you for it. Please stay and choose something for me to wear, then go to dinner with us.”

  “I’m not dressed for dinner out. This is a day dress.”

  His easy smile was back. “See how much I need to learn? Here I thought you were in your very best. We’ll have Matt take us by your friend’s house so you can change.”

  Jade wondered why her friend had not come back for her yet. She could just imagine Babs’s delight when she arrived at the Barretts’s escorted by not one but two men. Babs would be certain her plan was working, and Jade would have to spend the evening assuring her that it was not, that she still wanted no part of it. She had already let J.T. talk her into spending more time with him than she had intended. Besides, if she arrived home accompanied by both Jason and his lawyer, Reggie would probably have her trunks out on the front stoop before morning, which after the way he acted earlier, would not bother her in the least.

  “I’m sorry, Jason, but I have to go now.” She stepped around the butcher block and started down the hallway, hoping he would follow. The walls soon echoed the sound of his spurs. She paused long enough to admonish him. “You shouldn’t wear those things in the house.”

  “No?”

  “No. Definitely not. Does your aunt let you wear them indoors?”

  “Yes.”

  Although she could barely see him in the darkened hall, she could tell by the sound of his voice that he was laughing. She tried to imagine his home in New Mexico, and all she could conjure up was a place where tall, dust-coated men tracked spurred heels across the floors. He was, after all, leaving for good, so what did it matter what he did to the place?

  J.T. followed her, straining to see the beguiling twitch of her bustle in the darkened interior. He caught the delicate fragrance of her perfume as it wafted in her wake. Its citrus scent reminded him of lemons. If he were back home, he would know just what to do—he had never been at a loss with the women in New Mexico, but things had been different with them. They were country born and bred, none as sophisticated as Jade Douglas. It had been years since he’d been with so poised and delicate a lady. He was aching to kiss her, curious to see how she would respond to his arms. She seemed so fragile, he was half-afraid to touch her. Worried that the underlying current of uneasiness she’d shown around him would turn to fear, he held back as they continued down the hall.

  But by the time they reached the foyer again, he knew he had to kiss her—had to experience the touch of her lips against his, even if she became so insulted she would walk out of his life as suddenly as she walked into it.

  But then again, perhaps she would stay a while longer.

  There was only one way to find out.

  Dusk had settled heavily. Away from the warm kitchen the house had chilled, tainted with the smell of the damp sea air. Jade stood silently by the door while he lit the lamps.

  When he returned to her side, he reached out in the wavering light as if to open the front door. His eyes were riveted on her face. She was definitely one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Alluring, vibrant, there was a quality about her that made her seem as if she belonged to another place and time.

  He stepped closer, half-expecting her to back away. Afraid to hesitate any longer, he reached out and drew her up hard against him. Her eyes widened until they were emerald pools of fear. She gasped just before his mouth captured hers.

  Startled, Jade fought to hold him off as his lips began to play against hers, lightly at first, then with increased demand. Before she knew what was happening, his tongue probed her lips. Startled, she opened her mouth to protest and felt his tongue seek out her own. A ripple of pleasure traveled along her spine, down to the tips of her toes and up again. Shocked, she leaned against him, surrendered to the overpowering mastery of his kiss, and although the very nature of its intimacy shook her, she found herself wondering why she had waited so long to experience something so very wondrous.

  Jason had expected her to slap him. He was astonished when she clung to him instead. As soon as her arms slipped around his neck, he moved with her until she was trapped hard against the solid surface of the door. He heard her moan, felt her stiffen, and leaned into her until he was pressed full length against her. When his hips nudged hers suggestively, he found her resistant but pliable. As she obviously did not know how to proceed, J.T. took control. The kiss went on—long, warm, and wet. Jade Douglas, he found, proved to be an excellent student.

  Finally, when his heart pounded with an uncontrolled rhythm that matched the hectic beat of the pulse at the base of her throat, he ended the kiss. Jason nipped at her lower lip before he raised his head. Jade stared up at him, dazed, as if she did
not recognize him. He thought fleetingly of what he might have missed had he not followed his own instincts. A man had to reach out and take what he wanted, no matter where he was.

  Releasing his relentless grip on her upper arms, he let Jade go long enough to move his hands up to cup her face between his palms. She was still silent.

  He could not resist tasting her once more, and so lowered his lips to hers. This time he kissed her softly, briefly, and then whispered against her mouth. “I take it you’ll go out to dinner with me after all?”

  Chapter Four

  The door to virtue . . .

  Is heavy and hard to push.

  “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

  Jade blinked furiously, spread her palms against his chest, and attempted to push him away again. This time J.T. complied, released her, and stepped back so abruptly that she had to lock her knees to keep from sliding back down the door. The image of herself as nothing more than a puddle of beribboned strawberry satin at his feet strengthened her resolve. Shaken, she pulled her shattered nerves together and took a deep breath.

  “The least you can do is be gentlemanly enough to let me out of here!” She tried to keep her voice from shaking, but failed.

  “The least you can do,” he countered, “is tell me why you’re really here.”

  After kissing her, he was more confused than ever. If she had come to ingratiate herself with him, to try to use her feminine wiles to get to his fortune, she displayed none of the expertise needed for the task. She was innocent—the way she kissed told him as much. And then there had been her statement about the missionaries she had lived with in Paris. Missionaries? He’d never seen one, but somehow he knew the alluring Jade Douglas was not of missionary stock.

  “Please.” She tried to twist away from him. “I have to go.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said softly as he thought, at least not until I’ve taught you a lesson. “I was brought up to know better than to let a lady go out at night all by herself. You can wait here until Van Buren comes by with the carriage to pick me up for dinner. Then we’ll take you home.”