“Julia, what’s going on here?” He started to pace the floor but heard low voices in the basement and bounded down there two steps at a time.
Leslie was looping the belt of his white terry cloth robe around her, and when she looked up and saw him looming over her and wearing what he supposed was a ferocious scowl, she backed away.
“What are you doing in my clothes, and where is my breakfast? Where’s Julia? Two women in that kitchen, and I still can’t get a meal.” Maybe his anger needed release, or maybe he relished the opportunity to get to her. He didn’t know. But he began stalking her the way a jungle cat stalks its prey, reveling in the unholy joy it gave him He knew he shocked her, but for her attitude toward him, she deserved it. She didn’t seem overly perturbed, and that annoyed him. She glared at him, turned and strolled up the stairs. He didn’t doubt that she’d have loved to swear at him, and he wished she had; he allowed a person as much room as he gave himself, and he’d gotten her thoroughly mad. But the lady had just raised her head and walked away.
Not to be outdone, he yelled after her. “What’s the matter with you? The least you could do is explain yourself.”
Still holding Leslie’s wet clothing, Julia rushed into the recreation room where he stood with his hands in his back overall pockets and a scowl on his face.
“What’s got into her? And what’s she doing in my robe? What’s going on here, Julia? Am I going to get any breakfast?” As furious as he was, he remembered to soften his voice. Jordan cared deeply for Julia, and he treated her like the mother figure that she had been for him since childhood.
“Will you simmer down? Leslie got soaking wet coming to work this morning. It was raining so hard that she could barely see in front of her and fell into the ditch. By the time she got here a few minutes ago, she was soaked, muddy and shivering. On top of that, you have to scream at her like a mad man. Jordan, really, sometimes I just wonder why you like to make people think you’re such an ogre.”
“I told her to be here by six-thirty, and you’re telling me she was an hour late.” He continued pacing, but his voice had lost its sharpness.
“Didn’t you hear anything that I said?”
“Yeah,” he growled. “You said she fell in a ditch, got wet and…What did you say? What was she riding in, a truck? Somebody tell me what’s going on around here?” Julia laid a soothing hand on his arm.
“Jordan, you have never showed any interest in Leslie, so I figured you didn’t care that she gets here before six-thirty every morning by leaving home while it’s still dark and driving a jalopy that finally gave out last night. She got here this morning by pedaling an old bicycle all the way from Preston. And you take your hat off in the house.”
As though oblivious to Julia’s command, he leaned against the edge of the pool table. “I ignore her because she’s wary of me, and because she goes out of her way to avoid being alone with me. Julia, I have never closed my eyes to the suffering or misfortune of any of my employees. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“The occasion didn’t arise,” she replied, not bothering to keep the testiness out of her voice.
“Where does she live in Preston, and why couldn’t she find a job closer to home than this?”
“When are you going to learn to give a person one question at a time? She lives in the women’s residence, and I’m sure that she’d exhausted every other lead when she came here asking you for a job. You know the unemployment rate in this county. Anybody who’s got a job is keeping it.”
“In the women’s residence? Damn!” Apparently musing over what to do with that information, he remained silent for a time before he asked her, “Julia, may I please just have some breakfast?”
“Sure. I’ll be up just as soon as I can get these things into the washing machine.” She found Leslie sitting at the kitchen table, still wearing Jordan’s robe and apparently too drained even to consider starting the breakfast.
“Am I fired or not?”
“I’m sure that hasn’t crossed Jordan’s mind. Go in my bathroom and get a shower. There’s some shampoo in the cabinet beneath the bowl, and you may use my hair dryer and brush. Keep the robe on until your things dry. I’ll get the breakfast on the table. And don’t you let Jordan upset you. He’s all bark and no bite.”
Leslie looked at Julia, an expression of surprise claiming her face. She smiled her thanks.
Leslie blow-dried her hair, brushed it around her shoulders and started toward the kitchen. When she saw Jordan sitting there, she stopped, uncertain of his mood. If he started in on her again, she knew she’d give him as good as she got.
He looked up and smiled. “Come sit down, Leslie.”
This man is as mercurial as a thermometer in rapidly shifting temperature, she reflected. Both of her eyebrows arched at the change in him. When she sat down, but didn’t start to eat, he stopped eating.
“We’re going to talk, but first eat your breakfast.” She made no move to begin.
“What’s the matter? Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. If he had deliberately attempted to seduce her with it, he’d have been less successful. She resisted the unintended seduction and eyed him evenly.
“Has Julia said Grace yet?” His head came up sharply, and he stared at her for what seemed like heart-stopping minutes before a broad grin slowly transformed his face into the quintessence of male beauty. She sat mesmerized, enthralled by the dancing lights in his soft green eyes. She hadn’t realized that she stared at him until he laughingly teased her with, “Did I get some egg on my face?”
She didn’t move a facial muscle and quickly shifted the focus from her to him, though she had no idea where the question came from. “Do you have any children, Mr. Saber?” Now, he could be shocked, she told herself with some satisfaction.
“No, I don’t have any children, Leslie. I’ve never been married.” He said it softly, as if to reassure her of his gentleness. “And while we’re getting personal, call me Jordan. Everybody else on the Estates does. And don’t call me ‘sir,’ either. I’m not old enough to be your father.” He frowned, as if trying to imagine why he’d added that.
Leslie had his attention. He was looking at her, wondering what was so pleasantly different, when Julia joined them for coffee and immediately supplied the answer.
“Why, Leslie, I never dreamed that you have such beautiful hair.”
“So that’s what’s different. Looks good. Why don’t you wear it that way all of the time, Leslie?” Jordan queried.
“I can’t when I’m working. It gets in the way.”
Julia cleared her throat to head off the bite of his tongue, but she needn’t have bothered. He didn’t exploit the vulnerable; indeed, since childhood, he had defended and protected them, female and male alike.
Aware that his deep voice could shock, he spoke softly. “Leslie, if you didn’t look in the mirror when you brushed your hair, I suggest you do it now.”
“Why?”
“Because you look damned nice, that’s why.” he growled. “And I like it. If you didn’t have such a hassle getting here, maybe you could manage it every morning.”
“Oh my,” she muttered with studied impudence, “the lion has just replaced the lamb.” At that, Julia snickered, was unable to control her amusement, and finally began to laugh hysterically. Caught up in the lightheartedness, Leslie dropped her face into her hands to hide her amusement, as though uncertain as to how he’d tolerate being laughed at. But she soon threw her head back and laughed aloud. Jordan looked at her, spellbound. He’d never heard her laugh before. It was music. Come to think of it, he had never seen her smile.
“My Lord,” he said to himself, “she’s damned lovely.” And just as irreverent. He promised himself that he would find out who Leslie Collins really was.
Julia sobered and explained that she’d lent Leslie her new designer shampoo that was guaranteed to make hair wavy, bouncy, shiny, softer and whatever else you wanted. “Cal bought it f
or me, because I like to try new things. It sure is good for Leslie’s hair.”
Fully attuned to her now, he observed Leslie’s embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. The blow-drying gets some of the kinkiness out of it, and it’s straighter than I usually wear it, but it’ll curl up again in a few hours.”
Julia got up and took her plate to the sink. “I’ve got to start the clothes drier. You sit here and finish your breakfast, Leslie. I’ll bring your clothes up in a few minutes.”
Leslie thanked Julia and sipped her coffee, but she didn’t look at Jordan. If he hadn’t already upset her that morning, he’d ask her why she got out of sorts whenever she found herself alone with him. Hell, that kind of behavior could give a man ideas.
He leaned back in his chair and strummed his fingers on the table, amused that her gaze shifted from one of his hands to the other one. “Why do you live at the women’s residence, Leslie? Not many young people live there. Most of the residents must be twice…” he paused and looked closely at her, “…even three times your age. Can’t you find an apartment?” He didn’t believe in tiptoeing around a matter that needed airing. “Why are you settling for that?” he persisted, when she continued to eat and didn’t respond.
“It’s what I can afford.”
“What about a room in a private home?”
She shrugged. “I’ve had it with that. I’m doing the best I can, Mr. Saber.”
She tipped up her chin, obviously intending to glare at him and force him to back off, but he let only gentleness and tenderness reflect in his eyes, and warmth spread throughout his body when she melted and half-smiled.
“My name’s Jordan,” he reminded her. “Are you leveling with me? I think it’s reasonable for me to expect that much.” He sharpened his tone a little, hoping to discourage the honey-sweet, inviting expression on her face. And he told himself to get his reaction to her under control.
Leslie sighed in resignation. It was as she had feared. She hadn’t wanted these people to involve themselves in her life. She’d had four weeks to observe the camaraderie among them. No, it was more than that; the Bakers cared deeply for Jordan and he for them. They were a family, and she realized that she wanted to belong, wanted to be a part of them. Julia treated Jordan more like a son than an employer. She regarded him carefully, wondering how much she could confide.
“I don’t remember my mother, and I lost my father when I was ten. He was very good to me and I knew he loved me, but he was reserved and rarely showed affection. I missed him. Still do. My mother’s best friend took me to live with her, her husband and four daughters, and I grew up as one of her five girls. I lived with them until I went away to school and, even then, I spent the big holidays in their home. I’ll always regard Mom and Pop Haynes’ house as my home.”
“Do you have to continue staying in Preston? Your car is ready for the junk heap, and I can’t let you pedal so far twice a day and work, too.”
“It’s not so bad. No one bothers me at the women’s residence, and my room is comfortable and quiet. So I’ll manage.”
He made a mildly profane comment. “There’s a very nice apartment above the garage that was built for the chauffeur that my uncle never hired. Julia stayed there for a while when she first came to work here. It’s very comfortable, and you may have it for as long as you want it.” Observing her skepticism, or was it suspicion, he added, “I provide housing for all my other employees. There’s no reason why you should be an exception. I’ll drive you to Preston this morning to get your things, and you can move right in.”
Nothing came without a price. Good as it sounded, she had to think about it. When she didn’t respond, he prompted, his manner gentle. “Leslie, will you please say something.”
On the verge of telling him to stop handling her with kid gloves, she reflected that she was partly responsible for that. So, instead, she asked him, “Why are you doing this? You can find a cook anywhere.”
“Leslie, I’m not known for patience, and I’ve got work to do. I have no ulterior motive in offering you that apartment. It’s empty. Do you want it or not?” He made as if to leave the table, glanced at her and saw the unshed tears glistening in her eyes. What a woman! She refused to shed them.
“My God, woman, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was trying to help.” He realized that he was roaring. Probably frightening her. He ran his fingers through his hair in an uncharacteristic gesture of helplessness.
“Leslie, I’d as soon hurt myself as you. You’re as vulnerable as a newborn baby.” Without thinking, he took her hand. “Do you suppose I’m such a bastard that you have to be afraid of me?”
She looked up at him, obviously disconcerted, and he gazed down at her in surprise. She wasn’t only uncertain of him and of his motives, he realized. Whether she knew it or not, she was attracted to him Damn, he thought. She’s vulnerable in more ways than one. His own reaction told him that she was no less susceptible to him than he was to her. He shrugged if off; he wasn’t about to harbor an attraction for one of his employees. Besides, he wasn’t looking for a woman. He gazed at her inquiringly, waiting for her answer.
“No. Oh, no! You haven’t hurt me,” she said at last. “I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. This is the first time I’ve even been near tears since…”
“Since what?” Jordan stiffened. He knew there was more than she’d told him. “What?” He stroked her shoulder, wanting to put her at ease, but she leaned away from him.
“Look, Mr. Sa—I mean, Jordan. I don’t want to talk about it. Thank you for letting me have the apartment, but I don’t want you to go all the way to Preston just for me.” And I don’t want to be obligated to you or to anybody else, she might well have added.
Patience, man, Jordan lectured himself. “How do you plan to bring your things here? Think you can drag them piece by piece on that old bicycle?” He reached toward her in an effort to soften the bite of his words.
She drew back, immediately on the defensive. “Don’t touch!” She didn’t want to experience that frustrating heat that had seared her minutes earlier when she felt his hands on her.
“What?” Jordan scowled at her. “Don’t what? Don’t touch you? You’d better rid yourself of your fancy notions, woman. You’re as safe with me as a saint is in heaven.” His anger was almost palpable, but Leslie stood her ground, giving him a very level look.
“I’m glad to know that.” She wouldn’t let him know how his words had cut her.
Jordan glared at her. “For goodness sake, Leslie, cut me some slack here. I was only trying to put you at ease. You may have had some unpleasant experiences with men, but you ought to have sense enough to realize that not all men are vultures. If you can’t see that, maybe you’d better leave. Damned if I’m going to tiptoe around you.”
“If you want me to leave, I’ll go.” Her pride wouldn’t let her disclose how much that prospect disturbed her.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he growled, as if aware that she had boxed herself in. “I just want you to realize that I am not harassing you and that I never will. I put my arm around your shoulder protectively and you behaved as if that was perfectly natural. Five minutes later, I merely reached toward you, and you got your back up. Settle down, Leslie. If you want space, I’ll give you plenty of it with pleasure. Do you want to see the apartment or not?”
Leslie knew why she was always on the defensive. Because she wasn’t independent, she considered herself to be vulnerable, and vulnerability attracted abuse. That was the law among animals, but people were not wild animals; they lived in civilized communities with laws and customs to protect each member. Yet, when she had needed that protection, it hadn’t been there for her, and she’d been left to her own devices. Nearly five years after a humiliating, almost ruinous experience, she was still continuously looking over her shoulder and worried for her safety. If she had learned anything, it was that she should never relax her guar
d around men. She had vowed that she would never depend on them for anything and, so far, she had kept those vows. She looked at Jordan Saber, felt—even across the expanse of the big kitchen—his towering strength. She would take the chance, she decided, but she’d keep her eyes and ears open, and she’d be ready to leave at the merest suggestion of a problem between them.
Her silence annoyed Jordan, but he suspected that she had reason to hesitate before making such a move. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he told her, guessing the source of her reticence. “If a woman doesn’t want me, I don’t want her. And I know when she does and when she doesn’t.” He knew she didn’t find his last remark comforting, and he knew why.
“Go down and get your clothes from Julia and hurry back up here. I’ll show you the apartment and, if you like it, we’ll take it from there.”
She wished Julia would go over there with them but, after mulling it over, she felt ashamed. I’m the problem, not him, she told herself. He was a generous man, and she would thank him, but she’d taught herself not to have to learn anything twice. Her face burned when she remembered how she’d reacted when he touched her. It had been an innocent gesture, but so had Faron’s little friendly touches that got bolder and bolder. Yet, she knew that Jordan didn’t need to impose himself on women. She walked downstairs seeing in her mind’s eye his elegant facial contours, long curling black lashes and moss-green eyes. He had to be the envy of men and the goal of countless women. That alone was enough to comfort her.
Chapter Three
Jordan leaned against the doorjamb enjoying Leslie’s surprise as she examined the apartment—a large, light and airy living room, small bedroom with a picture window, porch and steps that led down to the garden, and a serviceable kitchen. It pleased him that he’d recently renovated the bathroom when he’d thought Ossie might like to stay there. The sunken tub, glass-enclosed shower and pale green wallpaper with assorted seashells had given Ossie an excuse to refuse. “Too feminine,” he’d said, though Jordan knew the truth, that Ossie hadn’t wanted to live apart from the other workers. Leslie swung around to look at him, her face beaming with a happiness that made his heart skip a beat. But his enjoyment of her pleasure was short-lived, for a frown quickly wiped out her glow.
Against the Wind Page 3