There’d been a time when fists had served him well enough, during his early attempts to prove something to himself, before he’d learned that there were better ways.
“Hey, you’re wasting chocolate,” he murmured, lifting a thumb to her mouth. “Right…here.” He wiped it off, his touch lingering longer than the task required, then licked his thumb.
She stared at him, eyes wide and startled. He was tempted to—
No he wasn’t. He hadn’t completely lost his mind. Not yet. “Know any good knock-knock jokes?” he asked a little desperately.
Her lips parted, revealing the chipped tooth that made her smile so oddly engaging. “Um, I can’t think of any right now.”
“How about puns? Or limericks?”
“None I could repeat in mixed company.”
Quaint, he thought. He didn’t know there was such a thing as mixed company these days. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, he said, “Whew, is it me, or is it getting warmer in here?”
“It’s you. You’re warm-natured, I’m cold-natured, remember? What if they run out of heating oil?”
“Heating oil?”
“For the furnaces.”
Welcoming the distraction, Jax launched into a description of various climate control methods, which was perhaps more technical than necessary. Still, it served to get his mind back in line. For a minute there he’d been afraid he was going to embarrass himself.
Rumors flew. To their credit the airlines tried to get the word out. Trouble was, the word wasn’t sufficient. Nor was it encouraging. There was no longer even a pretense of going forth in search of food. Jax had managed to secure a supply of saltines for Sunny, but all the available airline caterers’ meals had been wiped out in the first twenty-four hours, with no more coming in. Personal caches had long since been devoured in private or sold at a high profit. Even the supplies of peanuts and pretzels had been exhausted. If there was food to be had in the various private clubs, it was a well-kept secret. Jax suspected that those supplies, too, had run out like all the rest.
Hetty’s stomach growled. “I can’t believe this is happening in this day and age, in a civilized city like Chicago. You would think someone would do something,” she grumbled softly. “For the children, at least. Sorry. I didn’t mean to whine.”
“Take my shaving soap and go wash your hands and face, you’ll feel better. Jog for five minutes to loosen up. If you’re not back by—” he glanced at his watch “—eleven-fifteen, Sunny and I’ll come looking for you.”
Doing anything was better than doing nothing. Besides, Hetty liked the smell of his shaving soap. It kept her from feeling quite so grungy. There were no amenities and little privacy in the rest room, but she did the best she could and then tried jogging.
She gave it up after the first few minutes. Long skirts and big-heeled sandals weren’t made for it. She’d bought them only because she thought they were fashionable. Jeannie had delighted in telling her after she’d spent all her money that by the time anything made it to the discount stores, it was way out of style.
Not until she returned to drop, winded, onto the floor beside Jax and his daughter did she realize that something was missing.
“Oh, shoot, I must’ve left it in the rest room,” she muttered.
“Left what?” Jax handed Sunny her teething ring again. She’d exhausted her supply of teething biscuits and was subsisting on water. Not liking it much, either.
“My purse. I know I had it when—” She struggled to get up again.
“Hetty, hold on, think this through before you go racing off in a blind panic.”
“I’m not in a blind panic. I simply have to retrace my steps and find the thing. It’s got my money, my tickets and hotel reservation number and everything in it. Without it, I’m— Oh, mercy, I’ve got to find it!”
Jax swore softly. Could any woman really be that naive? She had about as much chance of finding her purse in this mob as he did of sprouting wings and flying out of here. “Sit down, honey, let me round up someone from security. I wouldn’t count on getting it back, though.”
“That woman I was telling you about? The one whose husband is a cement contractor, and whose three teenage sons are traveling with her? She might’ve seen something. I was talking to her outside the rest room. She was showing me some pictures of her cat, and I was showing her pictures of Robert—I told you about Robert, didn’t I?”
Not only told him, she’d shown him the pictures. Her family, such as it was—all steps and in-laws—seemed to mean a lot to her.
He figured the friendly old woman and her equally friendly sons—if they really were her sons—might have had a small scam going. God knows it wouldn’t be the first time some lowlife had taken advantage of a disaster. Looters seemed to crawl out of the woodwork after every catastrophe, big or small.
Finding any uniformed personnel was next to impossible. Whenever any one of them, from the cleaning crew on up, showed their faces, they were mobbed. Nevertheless Jax finally managed to talk to someone from security, only to be told that one missing purse was far down on the priority list. In this terminal alone they had nine missing children, three women in labor at last count, two heart attacks and a diplomat with two broken fingers.
On hearing what he had to report, Hetty swallowed hard. He wondered if she was going to cry. Two crying females might be more than he could handle at one time.
She fooled him. Took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “Thanks for trying. I really do appreciate it, because I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Her chin wobbled once before she got it under control. But when the tip of her nose got suspiciously red, Jax simply opened his arms. After only a brief hesitation, she walked into them, lowered her head to his shoulder and opened the floodgates.
“Go ahead, cry if it’ll make you feel better,” he offered generously.
“It w-won’t. It’ll only make m-my throat ache.”
But she cried, and he held her because it was the right thing to do. And because he damned well wanted to hold her! He didn’t know how much she’d been carrying in her purse—a few traveler’s checks, her tickets and baggage claims, probably, along with the kind of things most women carried in purses. Family photos, credit cards, makeup…
He could help her with the financial stuff once he got past her prickly pride, but at the moment he had other things on his mind. He’d meant only to comfort her in her loss. Unfortunately comfort didn’t begin to describe the feelings that coursed through his body. As her warm tears soaked through his shirt, he was aware of a growing warmth in another region. It didn’t help matters at all.
Leaning against the wall, he held her until the shudders subsided, and then he patted her back clumsily, all the while trying to ease her body away from his.
It wasn’t working. “Feeling better now?” he asked, forcing a false note of cheeriness.
“Don’t look at me, I’m all red-eyed and awful looking.”
“Yeah, you’re a monster, all right.” He dug out his handkerchief, glanced at it and shoved it back into his pocket.
She took a deep gulp of air and lifted her face from his shoulder, but made no attempt to disengage herself from his embrace. “I’m all right now.”
Jax gave up. She had to be aware of what was happening to him. There was no way he could disguise his arousal, but it was damned poor timing, considering the fact that they were in a public place, surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of people.
Because he couldn’t seem to help himself, his hand slid down to her hips, pressing her tightly against him. It only made things worse. Her mouth was mere inches from his, her eyes closed, the lashes glistening with tears.
Well, what the hell—he was only human.
The kiss began tentatively. Warm, hard lips brushed against soft, moist ones. Within seconds it turned into something altogether different. Something wild, demanding. Something dangerous.
Jax twisted his head for better contact, at
the same time thrusting against her in a way that was unmistakably carnal. Heart racing, hands trembling, he was torn between the temptation to cover her firm bottom with both hands and grind her groin against his, and the equally strong temptation to fill both his hands with her breasts.
He tasted her tears, thought how fragile she felt in his arms, how incredibly desirable. How much he would like to lay her on the floor, uncover her treasures one by one and bury himself in her feminine depths.
Trouble, Powers. Better back off while you still can. Remember that pair in the elevator?
Nice try, but it wasn’t working. He broke away, muttered an apology, then quickly found her mouth again. She was like a hungry bird, open and waiting for him.
In the end it was Hetty whose good sense prevailed. She turned her head, gasping to catch her breath. “We can’t—I shouldn’t—you don’t—”
Leaning his forehead against hers, he laughed harshly and said, “All of the above.” He might have released her then, but for the embarrassingly obvious bulge in the front of his flannels.
It was Hetty who took the initiative by stepping away. “I don’t know what happened,” she said with all the dignity she could muster, considering she’d been ready a minute before to lie down and take a stranger into her body.
She waited. She had her flaws, every one of which she’d been recently reminded of by her stepson-in-law. But dishonesty wasn’t among them, so she added, “Well, that’s not really true.”
Jax turned his back to her, braced one arm against the wall, then leaned his forehead against it. She stared at his back, wanting to touch him again—needing the warmth and strength he possessed. Feeling awkward, she wondered if he was as embarrassed as she was by what had just happened. For a woman who’d been married as long as she had—a grandmother, for heaven’s sake—she was behaving like a teenager.
Worse. Jeannie had known more about such things at fourteen than Hetty did at thirty-seven.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I could do with a drink of water,” she said brightly.
He made a sound that defied interpretation just as the loudspeaker crackled and a voice came on with an announcement.
Four
Excitement hummed throughout the giant airport, its terminals flung out like the tentacles of an octopus. Finally things were beginning to move! A fleet of scrapers was fanning out toward the runways. The cold front had moved out over the Atlantic; Norfolk and Atlanta would be up and running within the hour. Further bulletins would be issued as flights were rescheduled.
The announcement could be heard echoing throughout the terminal, accompanied by tired cheers as people began gathering up their possessions.
Not Hetty. She had nothing to gather. She had searched the bathroom for her purse and Jax had checked with security again, as well as lost and found. “Well,” she said decisively. Forcing a smile, she fought back the panic that threatened to overcome her again.
Dear Lord, what was she going to do? Traveler’s aid? She’d seen a sign about halfway down the corridor, but the crowd around it had been so thick, she hadn’t even attempted to get through.
Besides, what could they do? Offer condolences? They certainly weren’t going to offer her money, which was what she needed. If they handed out loans to every fly-by-night stranger who asked, they’d be out of business in no time.
She was going to have to call her friend at the agency. The 800 number had been busy every time she’d tried, but sooner or later she was bound to get through. If not, she would have to reverse the charges and call her stepdaughter.
But what if Jeannie wasn’t there? What if she was there, but hung up as soon as she heard Hetty’s voice? Hetty fully intended to reclaim her family, but it was going to take time and patience. Asking for a loan was hardly the best way to begin.
Take a deep breath, Henrietta. Now, think. Would Oklahoma have an embassy in Illinois?
Probably not.
For a while adrenaline had carried her, but now that relief was finally within sight, exhaustion was rapidly setting in.
Jax, who’d been pacing the floor with Sunny on his shoulder, paused in front of where she was seated, both arms wrapped around her knees.
“How much baggage did you check?”
“Two bags. My iron and coffeemaker are in one, along with some books I’ve been wanting to read but haven’t had time. I thought I’d have plenty of time on a cruise.”
What she’d actually thought was that if she wasn’t too busy partying with the kind of people who posed for the pictures on the brochure, she would head for the row of poolside lounge chairs, also pictured in the brochure, and catch up on her reading. She’d bought dark glasses, a wide-brimmed straw hat decorated with a big, yellow flower and a tropical-print bathing suit and cover-up, just for the occasion.
“When things calm down, I’ll go with you to the baggage agent and see if we can reestablish your claim. You’ll have to describe the bags and what’s in them. You did have visible identification, didn’t you?”
She assured him that the bags were clearly marked with her name, but no address. She’d read that in a travel magazine somewhere. Not to put your address on your luggage, because then anyone who happened to see it would know you weren’t at home and could go to your address and break and enter at will.
Although in her case, it hardly applied. She no longer had a home.
“Watch the monitors. They’re beginning to reschedule a few flights.” Jax settled a drowsy and tear-stained Sunny in her carrier and sat down beside her.
Hetty squinted up over the heads of the crowd at the sign listing arrivals and departures by number and destination. Most were still designated as cancelled or delayed. “Is your flight listed yet?” She couldn’t bear the thought that he would go first, leaving her behind.
“Not yet.”
At least on the planes they would have those tiny bars of soap, she thought. Despite two and a half days with only the most cursory washup, Jax still smelled of shaving soap and leather. Heaven only knew what she smelled like. Baby spit, probably.
“There goes another one to Orlando. It looks like things are beginning to get cracking. With Orlando open, Miami won’t be a problem. You ought to be—” Lowering his head to his knees, he swore softly. “Dammit, I keep forgetting. Look, tell me what I can do to help. I’ll buy you a ticket to wherever you need to go, although I can’t do much about your cruise. I know the line—it’s got a pretty good reputation, but I doubt if they’ll return to port to collect one passenger. Do you have insurance? Credit cards usually offer some kind of protection. You can probably catch up with your ship at the next port of call.”
Jax watched as pride battled to overcome the terror of uncertainty. As bedraggled as she looked, that familiar cloak of dignity came over her again, touching him in a totally unexpected way.
“Actually, I didn’t use a credit card, but I’ll be just fine, really. I have friends—family. My friend at the travel agency will know what to do once I get through to her. I’ll be just fine,” she repeated in an obvious effort to convince herself.
“Yeah, sure you will. I just thought since you’ve been such a great help, Sunny and I could repay the favor.”
The air between them grew distinctly cooler. “Thank you,” she said quietly, “but I can manage quite well by myself. I told you I have—” Abruptly, she started to rise and cried, “Oh, darn!” at the sound of tearing fabric.
“Sit down, Hetty.”
Defeated, she sat and examined the tear near the hem of her skirt. “I stepped on my blasted skirt tail. I don’t suppose you have a safety pin or any kind of tape?”
“No pin, no tape, not even a paper clip. Look, there’s no point in wading into that traffic jam yet. Wherever you plan on going, you won’t be boarding anytime soon. We need to talk.”
Hetty, trying not to think beyond the moment, said dully, “There’s no one at the desk yet, anyway. I don’t even know if my flight will still be leavi
ng from this gate. They might’ve changed everything around.” It was no longer “her flight,” but there was nothing to be gained from belaboring the point. They’d been booked on different flights, both with the same small airline. The only reason they had met at all was that both flights had been posted at the same desk.
Hetty’s thoughts veered off on a path best left unexplored. She couldn’t imagine being in the same airport with Jax Powers and not knowing it. Could a magnet ignore the presence of iron?
No more than she could ignore the physical attraction she felt for this one man. And the scariest part of all was that it wasn’t entirely physical.
Correction: the scariest part was that he would be leaving her all too soon, and that would be the end of it.
Whatever it was.
Jax knew she was worried sick. He wanted to place a reassuring arm around her shoulder, but didn’t dare. Not when even the most casual touch could escalate to full-fledged arousal. Which, under the circumstances, was not only ludicrous, it was dangerous.
He cleared his throat. “Keep watching the board. Once my flight’s posted, I’ll get in line at the desk. Meanwhile, neither of us is going anywhere for a while, so we might as well sit tight.”
He cleared his throat and frowned, wondering how to phrase the idea that had been taking shape in his mind for the past few hours. “Look, Hetty, I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Eyeing him warily, she tucked her skirt tightly around her ankles and edged away. Dammit, he hadn’t meant to spook her, but if she was too proud to take his money he was going to have to come up with another way to help her. He had a pretty good idea from a few things she’d let drop that her family wasn’t going to come through for her. Nor did he hold out much hope of contacting her travel agency until things settled down. This was more than a local problem. The whole country was affected in one way or another.
A Bride for Jackson Powers (Desire, 1273) Page 5