by Rita Herron
“I told Wiley I’d make sure you were safe and I intend to follow through on my word.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “All right. Check the house and I’ll make some coffee.”
Jake nodded, quickly checking the downstairs, then hurried upstairs while she worked in the kitchen.
A few minutes later, he appeared in the doorway. “Everything looks okay.”
“I told you I’d be fine. My dad’s being overprotective.”
Jake leaned an elbow on the kitchen counter, his body only inches from hers. “He obviously cares a great deal for you, doc.”
Hannah bit down on her lip, knowing she should say something to prove she reciprocated the feelings. She did love her father—only she had trouble showing her affection.
“You were a good sport through all those silly videos,” Hannah said instead.
Jake shrugged, his dark eyes hooded. “It looks like you have some pretty good memories of being a kid.”
“Better than some children, I’m sure.”
Jake shrugged again, a pained look in his eyes. Then she remembered he had no family, and she could have kicked herself. “I’m sorry, I do appreciate my father. It’s just he can be overzealous about things.”
“Wiley means well,” Jake said. “He cares about you and your sisters, you can’t fault a father for being concerned about his daughters.”
“I guess not.” Although he’d claimed he didn’t ever want a family, Jake had certainly seemed to enjoy hers today. And he obviously had a handle on how a father should behave—he’d certainly taken care of her tonight. Maybe he really did want a family and was too afraid to admit his feelings. “What happened to your parents, Jake?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Hannah lifted her hand and brushed a dark lock of hair away from his forehead. “Yes, I do. Tell me.”
He jammed his hands in his pockets and stared at her, as if he could frighten her with his story. He’d obviously forgotten she worked in the ER. “My old man skipped out when I was a kid. My mom, well…let’s just say she liked men.”
Compassion swelled in Hannah’s chest. “I’m sorry, Jake. Do you still see her?”
“No, she…she wouldn’t have gotten any awards for Mother of the Year. I wound up in foster homes. Learned to pick up and move at the drop of a hat.”
“That must have been so hard.”
He shrugged as if the past meant nothing, but Hannah suspected he’d learned his drifter ways from his own childhood. Longing swept through her—she wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort him. Maybe he secretly wanted that family but was too proud to admit it. “Jake, I—”
He touched his finger to her lips to silence her, his gaze locking with hers. A frisson of awareness rippled through her at Jake’s husky voice. “Ancient history. Why didn’t you want your dad to use that video for his commercial?”
“The hospital isn’t very happy with me right now,” Hannah admitted. “The chief of staff warned me to maintain a professional image. I hardly think being in one of Wiley’s ads will impress him.”
Jake nodded. “Probably wouldn’t impress your old boyfriend either.”
“Or his parents,” Hannah agreed, remembering the sizable contributions the Broadhursts made to the hospital and their displeasure toward her. “They can’t have me fired, but they can persuade the chief of staff and some of the other doctors to give me an unfavorable recommendation. And once I finish my surgical rotation, I plan to start focusing on a specialty.”
“So you aren’t going to stay in emergency medicine?”
“No.” Hannah handed him a cup of coffee and poured herself one. “Eventually I’d like to find a family practice here in Sugar Hill.”
SHE OBVIOUSLY wanted to settle down here near her family. Perhaps near Broadhurst himself. Jake had no idea why thoughts of Hannah reconciling with the man bothered him, but the realization stung. He envisioned the yuppie doctor waltzing back into her life and giving her everything she ever wanted.
Everything he couldn’t give her.
Touching her, loving her, holding her in the night….
Her lips parted slightly, the dawning of desire flickering in the moonlit shadows of the porch, and hunger warmed his body, tightening his chest, shooting all the way to his sex.
Forgetting all the reasons why he shouldn’t want this woman, all the reasons he could never have her, he reached out and curved his hand at the nape of her neck. The sweet erotic scent of her longing poured over him as her breath hitched slightly in her throat. Her hair felt like softly spun silk draped across his fingers, her skin the smooth texture of perfection. With his heart pounding in his chest, he lowered his mouth and pressed his lips firmly to hers, inhaling the whisper of her surrender as he claimed her mouth with his.
The kiss should have been soft and gentle, testing the waters, but the hunger in Jake rose so quickly that he felt like a starved man who’d suddenly been tossed a crumb of gourmet food. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her soft curves molded against his hardness in a way Jake had never imagined. She threaded her fingers through his hair and he clutched her body greedily, moaning when she parted her lips and allowed him to taste the coveted recesses of her mouth. His tongue plunged deeper as his hands swept down her back, then lower to cup her bottom. Inhibitions faded to the background as his need grew. His sex swelled, surging against the tight restraint of his pants, his thigh wedging itself between her legs.
Hannah reciprocated by scraping his back with her fingernails, by teasing his lips with her tongue, by planting wild hot kisses along his neck. He felt the urgency in both of them, sensed the chemistry that might explode, knew the ultimate act of loving would be mind-numbing. His hands slid to her blouse buttons, slowly releasing the tiny ovals from their fastenings one by one. Her breath fanned his cheek, hot and raspy as he nibbled at her neck, then dipped his head lower to taste the curve of her breasts. She dug her hands into his hair, and he kissed the fine tips of her breasts through her lacy bra. With a flick of his thumb, he released the front clasp, his heart pounding as her breasts spilled into his hands.
“Oh, Jake.”
“You’re perfect,” he whispered.
Her sweet voice nearly drove him to his knees but he forced himself to love her slowly, to tease the soft rosebuds with his tongue before he drew a taut nipple into his mouth and began to suckle. She arched against him, her legs weakening, so he caught her in his arms. She murmured his name on a sigh of pleasure, and he looked up to see passion heating her face.
The whisper of his name on her lips sent his heart racing again, but his conscience invaded, taunting him with guilt.
Only moments earlier, he’d heard compassion in her voice. Maybe pity. He would not take this woman because she felt sorry for him.
Feeling the heat of his arousal diminish slightly, he gentled his kiss, dropped small butterfly kisses along her cheek, then into her hair. He wanted her so badly he couldn’t move.
But he had to walk away.
If she was as innocent as he was starting to believe, he couldn’t make love to her without telling her the truth about himself and his reasons for being here. And even if she were innocent, what if Mimi were involved? She and DeLito were pretty close. Mimi didn’t have a professional career like Hannah. Maybe the pressure of following along in her older sister’s footsteps had gotten to her. If so, Hannah would be crushed.
He gently eased her from his arms and looked into her face. “I’d better go.”
She nodded, her eyes widening as if she suddenly realized what had happened and still wanted him; as if she trusted him, making his guilt double. It took every ounce of his self-restraint to leave her standing there alone.
HANNAH’S FINGERS slowly roamed across her lips, the imprint of Jake’s hot, sensual kisses still burning through her. Why had she never felt such erotic, wild abandon when she and Seth had kissed? And why had he pulled away?
The question she should be asking hersel
f was—why hadn’t she pulled away? Why had she let herself get to the point of almost making love to Jake in her kitchen when she hadn’t been able to give herself to Seth? She’d guarded her virginity like a treasure all through college and med school, vowing to save herself for her wedding night, yet she barely knew Jake, and she’d let him sweep her into his arms and almost take her on the floor.
Feeling dizzy and slightly disoriented, she stumbled through her den, pausing to pet Oreo. “I am losing my mind, kitty. I have to go back and see that shrink. Maybe he can give me something to alter these weird mood swings.” Weird as in hot-in-lust one minute, determined-to-avoid-the-man the next.
She tossed her purse on the counter, poured herself a glass of cold lemonade to cool her body temperature, and lumbered into her bedroom, thinking she should look over that paperwork her father had asked her to check. Moonlight spilled through the sheer curtains, illuminating the hope chest, drawing her into its magical spell. She hovered beside it, momentarily admiring the intricate carvings, the bridal gown, the bride doll her grandmother had given her.
The empty curio cabinet where she’d once stored her dolls loomed silent and lonely in the corner. With a knot of apprehension she slowly lifted the bride doll, spread the lacy white beaded gown down over the doll’s porcelain legs, and set it on top of the hope chest. She smiled as the soft lamplight glowed against the bride’s creamy porcelain face. White-blond eyelashes, stark blue eyes, lips painted a pale pink. Suddenly wistful from the family trip down memory lane, and still dizzy from the frenzied kisses with Jake, she climbed into the attic and brought down her old collection of dolls.
One by one, she removed the treasured dolls, gently wiping each one with a soft cloth so the porcelain gleamed like new, straightening the delicate clothing as she arranged them inside the curio cabinet, except for the bridal doll which she left sitting on top of the hope chest. Most of the others were storybook dolls, although a few odd rag dolls and soft-sculpted ones had found their way into the assortment. Cinderella, Snow White, Goldilocks, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz with her ruby-red slippers, Little Orphan Annie, Madeline, Pippi Longstocking—all her favorites.
Sweet wonderful childhood memories swept through her, resurrecting silly visions of love and princes and happily-ever-after. The last doll, carefully wrapped in tissue paper, was Sleeping Beauty, the gift she’d received on her ninth birthday. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids as she stroked the long shiny black hair. The old childhood fairy tale flitted through her mind and her fingers went to her lips, a shiver rippling up her spine.
Sleeping Beauty had been awakened by a prince’s kiss—just as long-dormant feelings and desires she’d never even known she’d possessed had been awakened in her by Jake’s kiss.
JAKE DROVE BACK to the duplex, his mind reeling from unwanted emotions over Hannah Hartwell. He didn’t want her sympathy, or her compassion, or her…what exactly did he want?
Her body?
Hell, yes.
But the sultry hot kiss had been so full of yearning, so steeped with a deeper, unbridled yet almost innocent passion, that he found himself wanting more.
Wanting what—her love?
Impossible.
Irritated with himself for letting emotions and guilt even enter his conscience, he hurried inside to call Muldoon and see if there were any new developments in the case. The rose Hannah had given him still sat beside his bed on the battered nightstand, its fragile petals blooming with a fragrant sweetness that reminded him of her soft silky hair and her sweetness—the essence of Hannah.
Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he decided to check out Wiley’s. Maybe DeLito had been late because he’d been cooking up another deal. Maybe he would even go back there tonight. The sooner Jake could solve the case and leave Sugar Hill, the better.
He climbed in the SUV and dialed Muldoon while he drove away. His partner answered on the third ring.
“Happy Thanksgiving, bud,” Muldoon said in a jovial tone.
“Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re celebrating with the rug-rats.”
“Damn right,” Muldoon said. “You know I spend the holidays with my family. I wish you’d joined us.”
“I spent the day with the Hartwell family.”
“Well, do tell. Anything going on with that daughter of his?”
“Wiley has three daughters.”
“You know which one I mean. The doctor you seem so taken with.”
Jake grimaced. When had he told Muldoon he was attracted to Hannah? “You’re reading between the lines again, partner.”
Muldoon laughed. “Yeah, right. Now, tell me about the doc.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Do you have an update?”
“Always working, Tippins. Maybe you need to get a good woman and settle down.”
A little white house with a picket fence and three kids? With Hannah?
“You’re the one who told me the chief wants this thing solved before Christmas. I’m working on a deadline here, I don’t have time for women.”
Muldoon chuckled. “All right. I don’t have much, but we did confirm that the dates Hartwell traveled to various cities to tape commercials coincide with dates of major movements of stolen cars.”
Jake nodded. “Any of the contacts Hartwell made suspicious?”
“Two of the men he had lunch with in L.A. have priors for fraud, and his daughter, Mimi, accompanied him on three of the trips.”
Jake heard Muldoon’s wife calling him. He wondered how it felt to have a wife at home.
Something he would never know.
“That’s it for now. I’ll keep you posted,” Muldoon said. “Gotta go read my boy a bedtime story.”
Jake thanked him and hung up, his mind envisioning the homey scene, his thoughts straying. He imagined himself reading to a small child, a little boy of his own. Snuggling with a wife after the kids were asleep.
Disgusted with himself, he turned the radio to a country and western song, grimacing as the twangy voice of a popular singer belted out the nineties hit, “Achy Breaky Heart.” Just listening to the words reinforced his vow to forget a personal relationship with Hannah.
His heart wouldn’t be broken—because he would never ever let himself fall in love. Because after love, rejection, pain or heartache followed.
Chapter Thirteen
After Hannah had arranged the collection in the curio cabinet, she dragged herself from her nostalgic state and tried to focus on the paperwork her father had asked her to examine. She’d been studying the figures for over an hour, but something seemed off, just as her father had said. She still hadn’t quite figured out the discrepancy when the doorbell rang. Her fingers momentarily tightened over the edges of the folder—who could be at the door?
Jake?
No, he wouldn’t be so bold as to come over this late. Not after the way they’d parted.
Uncomfortable, she glanced down at her flannel pj’s and frowned. Seconds later, she decided if her guest was Jake, flannel would be best—neither one of them needed the temptation of anything slinkier.
The buzzer cut through the air, ringing two, then three times in rapid succession. Whoever it was seemed awfully impatient. Scrambling into her robe, she hurried toward the door, checked the peephole and saw a tear-streaked face—Mimi.
“What’s wrong?” Hannah quickly opened the door and ushered her sister inside.
“I don’t know,” Mimi wailed, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. “But Joey deserted me again!”
Hannah frowned, handing her sister a tissue to dab at her mascara-stained eyes and puffy cheeks. Mimi looked like a raccoon. “Sit down and tell me what happened.”
Mimi slumped into the big armchair and flopped her long legs in front of her, sniffing. “I don’t know. We were having a good time, we’d gone back to my place and he loved my dessert.”
“I can’t believe he could eat anything else after that Thanksgiving feast—”
“Oh, Hannah, honey, yo
u are so naive, sometimes I can’t believe you were engaged.”
Hannah suddenly saw erotic images, only not of Mimi and Joey, but of her and Jake. Irritated, she said, “Sorry, I thought you were being literal. Go on.”
Mimi shook her head as if Hannah were a lost cause, jumped up and hurried into the kitchen, then returned with a bottle of wine. She poured them each a glass and made herself comfortable on the sofa again. Hannah ran her finger around the rim of the glass, waiting for Mimi to elaborate.
“Well, like I said, we were enjoying our dessert, then Joey’s pager went off and he got up and ran off without even finishing….” Mimi hesitated, actually blushing as if she didn’t want to blurt out the particulars. It must have been wicked, Hannah thought, for her sister’s cheeks to redden.
“Did he give an explanation?”
“He said he had work to do.” Mimi hugged her knees to her chest. “What kind of work is so important he would have to rush off on Thanksgiving to do it? For heaven’s sakes, he’s not a doctor or even a veterinarian! Used-car salesmen don’t have work emergencies.”
Hannah studied Mimi’s disappointed expression and wished she had some answers. Unfortunately, Mimi was right. “So why do you think he left?”
“He’s found another woman,” Mimi said in a shrill voice. “I just know he’s in bed with her right now.”
“Now, Mimi, don’t jump to conclusions. You don’t know anything for sure.”
“I know the woman’s name.”
“Her name?”
“Yes, some floozy named Buffy.” Mimi downed her drink and poured another.
Hannah wrinkled her nose. She’d discovered a woman’s name scrawled in the margins of one of Joey’s files that her father had given her, the name Buffy.
What exactly was Mimi’s boyfriend up to?
JAKE SAW JOEY slip into the used-car lot office. He sank lower into his Cherokee, hoping not to be noticed. Joey had raced up minutes before, jumped from his BMW and hauled inside like a bat out of hell. Jake peered through the glass-encased front of the building, saw lights flicker on and he tracked Joey with his eyes as he darted through the building. Minutes later, DeLito emerged, looking frazzled and out of sorts. He dashed into his Beamer and raced from the parking lot on two wheels.