Project Valentine (A Homespun Romance)

by Kakade, Geeta

  PROJECT VALENTINE

  by

  Geeta Kakade

  ISBN: 978-1-77145-134-5

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Books We Love Ltd.

  Chestermere, AB

  Canada

  http://bookswelove.com

  Copyright 2013 by Geeta Kakade

  Cover Art Copyright 2013 by Michelle Lee

  The Homespun Series

  Book 1 – Faith Hope and Love

  Book 2 – Project Valentine

  Book 3 – The Long Road Home

  Book 4 – The Old Fashioned Way

  Book 5 – Mr. Wrong

  Book 6 – Daddy’s Little Girl

  Use this link to find all Books We Love Ltd. books at Amazon Kindle:

  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=Books%20We%20Love%20Ltd.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Cold water arced from the fountain hitting the parched spot at the back of Jessica's throat with gratifying precision. Eyes closed, Jessica Adams drank deeply. Finding this water fountain had taken a while. Clearview Plaza was one of Los Angeles County's most modern, elegant shopping malls. Water gurgled out of fountains, rippled by in colossal artificial lotus ponds, but this seemed to be the only spot on the lower level one could drink it.

  Jessica took another big gulp, wishing it would change into some magic elixir and enhance her powers of persuasion.

  Talking, smiling, persuading people a dog would fit nicely into their Southern California lifestyles was hard work. No one else seemed to have the ability to fall in love at first sight with the Great Dane, like she had. Arthur had to be adopted today.

  The sudden snigger from behind her held no humor. Only malice. Opening one eye cautiously, as she drank Jessica glimpsed the pair standing behind her. It was eight months away from Halloween so their outfits had to be normal every day wear for them.

  Black. Metal. Leather.

  Not that everyone in that garb spelled trouble…she had met quite a few who were simply people favoring a certain way of dressing.

  It was the sniggered whispers of this pair that screamed Alert!

  The stiffening hair on the nape of her neck, the churning of her stomach, christened them trouble. Trouble looking for her. The fountain was set in a little alcove. The miscreants blocked her from passersby. No one knew she was here...that she needed help.

  Jessica let the water flow over her closed lips, pretending she hadn't noticed anything unusual, pretending she was still drinking. She had to buy herself some extra time.

  It wasn't the first time she'd been mistaken for young and helpless. Seventy five pounds, five feet tall, dressed casually, Jessica couldn't remember the number of times she'd been told she passed for a teenager.

  Fair game for this obnoxious pair.

  Slowly, reluctantly, she straightened. Sometimes the best way to face a confrontation was head on.

  "Oops," The slight shove was a herald. There was definitely more to come.

  Turning to face the young men she gave them her I'm-one-tough-cookie look. "Excuse me," she said coldly.

  They obviously weren't affected by her glare or her tone. Neither budged an inch.

  "Sorry," smirked one, "he pushed me."

  "So sorry," mimicked the other, stepping forward.

  A sliver of fear replaced tough. Jessica took a step back. The edge of the fountain dug into her back, the pair hovered over her like giant birds of prey. She was in a trap.

  The water in her stomach had frozen to a block of ice but her mind churned rapidly. Only rabbits froze in the face of danger. And look what happened to them. Clutching her bag Jessica considered her options. Her fingers-in-mouth whistle would attract too much attention. She didn't want to risk attracting adverse publicity. Using a karate chop would mean having to file a police report. Staying here was the pits though. She wasn't in the mood for kiss and tease with two juvenile Draculas. Maybe she could talk her way out. Jessica took a deep breath, opened her mouth.

  "What's your name, babe?"

  The look in their eyes frightened her. One didn't appeal to emptiness.

  "Cat got your tongue?" They loomed closer.

  Jessica put both hands up. As a barricade, a bar of melted chocolate would have been more effective.

  "Let's see if we can't cure the dumb," the first one sniggered, enjoying every moment of his self assigned role of tease.

  Every muscle in her body tense, Jessica waited for their next move. It would have to be karate. She wished she knew what came first. The blow or the yell. Television always made everything look so easy. The program she'd followed on self defense had never explained what to do if a move didn't work. On the show, everyone had fallen exactly where they were supposed to.

  The pair closed in on her. Jessica opened her mouth and lifted her hands. When in doubt, she decided, do everything at once.

  The pair were snatched up. In the gap stood a man whose bulging biceps and the corded muscles in his neck, were the only signs of strain as he effortlessly held the two struggling youths by the scruff of their necks.

  Jessica blinked. Then she quickly closed her mouth and let her hands drop to her sides.

  "Are they bothering you?"

  The query accompanied a laser beam look that pierced right through her as her rescuer examined her from head to toe. Jessica felt he saw both what was on the surface and what was under it with that glance. Anger painted his features with tight, dark lines. No avenging angel could have looked more forbidding. Thank goodness he was on her side.

  "We were just waiting for a drink," whined one late bully.

  "We didn't mean no harm," echoed his spineless counterpart.

  The shake they received warned he was allergic to explanations.

  "Are you all right?" Again that look. Roving, searching, penetrating.

  "I'm fine." She pushed her glasses up nervously.

  It was like watching two separate acts of a play at the same time. The first involved this man and the hooligans. Jessica could sense his anger, his intolerance of the game they had been playing. The second was solely between her and this man. His expression offered her protection, caring, consideration. His manner told her she had nothing to be afraid of.

  As rescues went, this was one of the best.

  Why on earth hadn't she worn something else instead of the Madras yellow pants and tank top covered with a loose red shirt? Her pink suit, the single strand of pearls, would have been so much nicer but then she had dressed for her volunteer job not for being rescued herself.

  "Please let them go. I really am all right." Jessica said. Passersby were beginning to stare at them.

  Giving the youths another shake, he allowed their feet to touch the ground. "Five minutes to get out of the mall," he gritted, "and then I give Security a description of you two, and file a complaint. The reason I'm letting you go is I think this is the first time you've pulled something like this. Am I right?" Shamefacedly the youths nodded. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time? Juvenile detention hall isn't any fun, believe me. Not to mention what it'll do to your futures to have police records."

  He had their attention now. They both wilted, their heads hanging like top heavy flowers.

  Her rescuer wasn't impressed. "If you ever pull anything like this
again, I'll personally see you are taken in. Now, apologize."

  "Sorry," mumbled one.

  "Didn't mean to scare you," whispered the other.

  Paper dragons. That's all they were. They vanished without a backward look.

  Jessica was still trying to figure out how size could have so much power when she felt the arm around her shoulders. Startled, she looked up at the man beside her. A jolt went through her as their gazes collided.

  "Let's go sit down." His voice had switched from dynamite tension to velvet concern. "They're only two kids bored out of their heads. Are you sure you're all right?"

  Jessica nodded weakly. He was doing more damage to her composure than the two boys had. Tucked into his side, his warmth wrapping her like a down comforter, he led her to a convenient wooden bench, made her sit.

  It was a very long while since someone had made her feel so ...so special. Jessica was glad now she hadn't used her fingers-in-mouth whistle. His way was much better.

  "Lean back and close your eyes," he commanded softly. "You look awfully flushed."

  She did as he asked. She was flushed only because contact with his body had overheated her brain. Her glasses were slipped off her nose, a hand pressed against her cheek.

  "Your face feels very warm. Take it easy. I'll be right back." The voice reminded Jessica of an echo in a cave. Resonant, deep, musical. With a timbre that lingered in the reaches of one's brain.

  "Count and breathe," she told herself sternly. "One and two and three and four. In and out and in and out. You've got to regain control before he comes back."

  Jessica tried painting calm pictures in her mind. Blue skies, a field of flowers, a baby at its mother's breast.

  She wasn't entirely successful.

  Flashes from a pair of Rocky Mountain eyes, set in a craggy face, kept interrupting her visualization. Their color haunted her. They weren't the light brown of the lower slopes. More the dark brown of the peaks and the precipices. The power of his gaze was different from any man's. Jessica had never met anyone who made her feel so...so much a woman.

  "Here try this. It'll help combat shock."

  Jessica's eyes flew open. This was a bottle from a soda machine. She took it from him with a hand that shook.

  "It's natural fruit juice...the sugar will do you good."

  Jessica blinked. Could juice douse the flames leaping up inside her? Heat had shut off thought, left room only for feelings. She should be running. Hard and as far away as she could get. Leaning back against the bench, Jessica sipped her juice slowly. One didn't hurry a dream along.

  The man sat down beside her. "By the way my name is Wagner. Karl Wagner."

  "Jessica Woods," she supplied in a croak.

  "Are your parents here in the mall with you? Can I have them paged? Or are you here with a friend?"

  Her heart sank. He thinks I'm a kid.

  That explained the uncle-home-for-Christmas voice. Acute disappointment cut away the rosy haze with a machete like stroke.

  Jessica got to her feet. "I'm here by myself."

  If one didn't count the officials, the volunteers, the twenty odd animals from the Los Angeles County humane society that is. The badge pinned on her chest that read Project Valentine apparently didn't mean a thing to him. She ought to have made herself another badge. One that read, ‘twenty three going on twenty four’. Maybe then things would have been different.

  A frown spliced Karl Wagner's wide brow. Evidently he didn't like the idea of her being here alone. Jessica frowned back. When would people stop equating petite with helpless? She wasn't about to let this man take over where her family had reluctantly left off. Rescuing her was one thing. Taking charge of the rest of her life was too much.

  "If you'll wait a minute I'll see you into a cab." Apparently he was oblivious to frowns. "I'm waiting for someone. That's how I noticed you at the fountain. As soon as those two boys appeared I could smell trouble. Are you sure they didn't hurt you?"

  His gaze skimmed her again from head to toe. Jessica's hand trembled as she straightened the shoulder strap of her bag. Of course he was waiting for someone. Men like him didn't hang around malls guarding secluded water fountains for amusement.

  "I'm fine. Thank you for helping me." Jessica held her hand out.

  Surprise flashed in his eyes as he took her hand, shook it.

  "Now," thought Jessica, "now. This is where he looks into my eyes and sees I'm a woman."

  It wasn't her day for telepathy. His expression didn't change.

  "Let me give you back your glasses." He fixed them on the edge of her nose. "If you're sure...."

  "I'm back!" The interruption was blonde, already shoulder high to Jessica, anywhere between eight and ten years old. "I've got my presents and my cone. Promise you won't look at them?"

  "This is Molly," Karl Wagner smiled at the girl as he introduced her.

  "Hi!" Over the ice cream cone Molly treated her to a shy grin and a frank appraisal. Her eyes warm, keen, curious, riveted Jessica. Rocky mountain eyes.

  "Hello Molly!"

  His daughter. It made perfect sense. Caring came naturally to a parent. It explained his protectiveness too. Jessica's overactive imagination supplied a picture of a green eyed blonde to go with the pair in front of her. Someone Junoesque. And beautiful.

  She swallowed the boulder in her throat. Didn't he know only single knights could rescue maidens in distress and steal their hearts? Oh, well. Time to get on with her life. Time to let Karl Wagner get on with his.

  Before she could get the right words out, he turned his head and said. "Excuse me. I'll be right back."

  Jessica looked at his broad back as he walked up to a security guard and stopped him. Obviously the five minutes he'd given the troublemakers were up. Taking in his designer jeans and the soft grey shirt, the black leather Reeboks, Jessica's toes curled inside her sneakers.

  "Married," she muttered to herself, "Taken. Out of bounds. Not available."

  Her mind refused to accept it.

  Jessica looked at Karl Wagner again. It was amazing the way he'd appeared out of nowhere when she needed help. What was even more amazing was the fact that though she always insisted on absolute independence she'd enjoyed every moment of her rescue.

  `Oh!'

  The squeak and the ice cold feeling on her foot accompanied the sighting of its cause.

  Jessica's left sneaker supported the double scoop of strawberry ice cream that had so lately been in Molly's cone. The girl stared in dismay at the tilted cone in her hands. Fear held center stage on her face as she looked at Jessica. Tears waited in the wings. She stammered. "I'm sorry. I...It just happened by itself."

  "Don't worry," Jessica reassured instantly. She had a lifetime of experience with things that happened by themselves. "I can clean it up."

  There was a slight problem. If she tried walking, the scoop was going to slide off her shoe and make a bigger mess on the floor of the shopping mall. She looked around for something to remove it with.

  "Molly, let's go...." Karl Wagner's voice trailed away as his glance raced from Molly's empty cone to Jessica's foot.

  Jessica barely opened her mouth before he swung into action. Taking the napkin out of Molly's hand he lifted the ice cream off her shoe, disposing of it in a nearby dustbin. Pulling a large man-size handkerchief from his pocket, he wet it at the fountain and then went down on his knees in front of her, scrubbing at the stain on her shoe.

  "Stand still." The order came on the heels of her attempt to move her foot away. The words that she could take it from here died on her lips as one large hand cupped her calf to ensure she didn't move again.

  The point of contact transmitted strange impulses to Jessica's brain. Her calf was really compacted oatmeal. Strange quivers radiated from this point to the rest of her body, making her feel like a volcano about to erupt.

  She wasn't used to men kneeling in front of her. Or cleaning her shoe. Her stampeding senses were making her feel faint.


  Get a grip on yourself. You're a twenty three year old woman, not some heroine in a Gothic romance.

  Modern men hated helpless females. And so far she'd been nothing else. Digging deep down, for her Patton tank look, Jessica fixed it on her face.

  "I can do that." Unfortunately her voice didn't match her expression. Melted marshmallow was firmer. Karl Wagner kept on scrubbing as if she hadn't spoken. Molly stood by watching the procedure.

  Kneeling, the top of his head almost reached her chest. Jessica looked down at it. Thick, curly, black hair. Inviting touching. Inviting rumpling.

  She blinked as he looked up. His gaze slammed into her at sixty miles an hour. Every single thought in her head was exposed to it.

  "Is your foot sticky?"

  A picture of her shoe being removed, her foot being cleaned by those powerful hands caused ten foot high waves in her imagination. Storm strength.

  "No. It's not."

  Pressing her foot to the floor, Jessica put all her weight on it. Not that seventy five pounds would stop a man who could lift two heavier youths as if they were ten pound bags of Idaho potatoes.

  "There you go." He stood, looked at her. "Does that look alright?"

  "That's fine," she mumbled. Who cared about the silly stain anyway? She watched as he threw his handkerchief into the trash can.

  "Molly and I would like to buy you a pair of sneakers to replace the pair you have on." His arm around his daughter's shoulders told the child accidents happened to everyone. He didn't blame her for this one.

  Jessica blinked again. "They're machine washable." At five dollars a pair they were also expendable. Unlike the fine monogrammed handkerchief he'd just thrown away.

  "I'm sorry I dropped my ice cream on your shoe." Molly meant every word of the apology.

  Consideration and caring wasn't something this man would ever have to teach his family. They would grow up making it an integral part of their lives....just like he did.

  Jessica smiled at the girl. "That's perfectly all right," she said gently. Extending the smile in the direction of the man's chin she added, "Thank you for cleaning my shoe, and coming to my rescue."