by Gayle Wilson
She had no idea why she had told them that. Maybe because he was playing Andy Griffith. Maybe because she wanted to see Katie’s reaction, although she already had a pretty good idea what it would be. Katie liked dangerous men. Which meant Jared should be right down her alley. And Robin was waving Jared’s job in front of her like a red cape in front of a bull. Maybe she had told them what Jared did because she was a masochist.
“The bomb squad?” Katie asked, eyes widening attractively. “Is that what it sounds like?”
“Bomb disarmament,” Whitt explained before Jared had to. “You must like living dangerously.”
“Ninety-nine percent boredom and one percent sheer terror,” Jared said, using a line Robin had heard him offer before in conversations like this. “There’s no middle ground.”
They laughed. All except Robin.
“And you and Robin are...old friends?” Katie questioned.
Jared’s eyes held on Robin’s face a few seconds before he answered. “We’ve known each other almost two years.”
“Then not as old a friendship as you made it sound, Robin. Or maybe you two just came to know each other really well in a short period of time.”
Robin didn’t answer. Jared could explain their relationship if he wanted to. And if Katie had anything to say about it, he’d certainly be given the opportunity.
“So how did you get into bomb disposal?” Whitt asked.
“Through the military,” Jared said. “I guess that’s the way most of us got our introduction.” He had turned his attention to Whitt as if he welcomed the question. It did break the small awkwardness Katie’s comment had created.
“A lot of people got an introduction to ordnance in the military,” Whitt said. “Most of them didn’t choose to make disarming it their profession.”
Jared smiled again. It was the self-effacing one he employed when people tried to figure out why someone who appeared to be sane would do what he did for a living. Then, disgusted with herself, Robin wondered why she was being so cynical.
There was something about Jared’s personality that made him a risk-taker, of course, but she also knew that saving lives meant a great deal to him. More than I do, she thought bitterly. Maybe that was one of the reasons she was feeling so hostile tonight. That and the look in Katie’s eyes.
“I’d love to hear about that one percent sometime,” Katie said. “The sheer terror part.”
“It’s not a pretty picture,” Jared said, smiling at her again. “Just a lot of grown men whose knees are trembling.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid,” Whitt said. “It’s what you do with the fear that matters.”
Jared’s gaze came back to Whitt’s face. His eyes assessed the campaign manager a moment before he nodded. “Not many people understand that,” he said.
“Then maybe they’ve never been afraid,” Whitt said.
“Vietnam?” Jared asked, his voice as low as Emory’s.
“Funny little rhythm in the ticker,” Whitt said, touching his chest. “But believe it or not, I really wanted to go.”
No one spoke for a moment, momentarily subdued by the sincerity of that quiet statement. With Katie, however, being subdued never lasted long.
“How about the quick course in bomb disarmament?” she asked.
“Actually...” Jared hesitated, his eyes finding Robin’s. “Actually, I was hoping I could talk Robin into going somewhere for a nightcap.”
The temptation to accept his invitation was on a scale almost biblical, Robin thought. It would take Jared away from Katie’s blatant interest. And it would get her out of this party and off her aching feet. The first was rather dog in the manger, and the second probably wouldn’t meet with Whitt’s approval. Right now, however, she didn’t care too much about that.
“Robin?” Jared questioned softly when she didn’t respond.
“Robin doesn’t drink,” Katie said. “Or didn’t that come up in the almost two years you knew each other?”
There was another small, awkward silence.
“I guess it didn’t,” Jared said finally, his eyes still on Robin’s. “Actually, what I had in mind was more in the way of a little stress relief.”
Stress relief. A phrase certainly open for interpretation, Robin thought, looking into Jared’s eyes. They suddenly seemed about as innocent as Katie’s. Just at that moment, Jared’s gaze deliberately tracked down to her feet.
Only when Robin’s followed did she realize that unconsciously she had already given in to one temptation. She had slipped her right foot out of the high heel she was wearing. It was resting on top of her left foot, the empty shoe beside it. When Jared’s eyes came back up, they were filled with amusement.
“Stress relief?” Katie questioned, obviously displeased.
Katie wasn’t used to not being the center of attention. And Robin acknowledged that it had been a long time since a man had made her feel she was more interesting than someone with Katie Chang’s attributes. Given the way she had felt struggling to stuff her expanding waistline into this dress, that boost to her morale was sorely needed. And very much appreciated.
“A private joke,” Robin said softly, holding Jared’s eyes.
Suddenly, his held something beyond amusement. Something that was always as dangerous for Robin’s peace of mind as the remembrance of what Jared did for a living. Something she had never been able to resist. She didn’t resist it now.
.“I’d love...some stress relief,” she said, her lips tilting at the suggestive emphasis she had managed to insert into her agreement. Her amusement was reflected in Jared’s eyes, briefly, before he turned his attention to Whitt and Katie.
“It was very nice to meet both of you,” he said abruptly. “I’m sure I’ll see you again while the senator is in town.”
He put out his hand, and Whitt shook it. “Any friend of Robin’s...” the campaign manager said, smiling.
“Ms. Chang,” Jared said.
Katie was still ticked off about the way this was turning out. Robin could read her annoyance as clearly as if she had expressed it. Her mouth was compressed a fraction too tightly before she relaxed it enough to smile at Jared.
“It was very nice to meet you,” she said. “And I’m still interested in hearing about your job. Maybe you’ll tell me more sometime when you don’t have a...previous engagement.”
“Of course,” Jared agreed. His eyes still politely on Katie’s face, he put his hand under Robin’s elbow. Using the support of his fingers to maintain her balance as she stood on one foot, she slipped her right foot back into her shoe.
“Good night,” Robin said, including both Whitt and Katie in her farewell. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
“Let’s do breakfast again,” Whitt suggested. “I want to hear what’s on the senator’s agenda next week.”
“Whitt,” Katie chided. When the campaign manager looked blank, she added, “At least offer to make it a late breakfast.”
Judging by his expression, Emory didn’t make the connection between Jared’s invitation and an early morning meeting that involved Robin. She wondered if Whitt were deliberately ignoring Katie’s implication. If so, she was grateful.
“About nine?” Robin suggested.
“Works for me,” Whitt agreed.
“See you then. Good night, Katie.”
“Have fun, you two,” Katie said. Her black eyes focused coldly on Robin’s face before they came back to Jared’s. They softened noticeably as they considered his features.
“We’ll certainly try,” Jared said. He turned, his hand on the back of Robin’s waist, directing her toward the front entrance. “Coat?” he asked.
“I checked it,” she answered, as they made their way through the close-packed bodies. When Jared had presented her claim ticket, and they were waiting for the girl to bring the coat, Robin couldn’t resist asking, “So what did you think?”
Her question made him look at her again. Really look at her, almost f
or the first time since they’d left Whitt and Katie, she realized. And there was no longer any trace of amusement in his eyes. They weren’t as cold as Katie’s, but there was something in them that hadn’t been there before.
“They seem nice,” he said.
Then he turned, his gaze again concentrating on the doorway through which the girl had disappeared with her ticket. A little deflated by his tone, by the disinterest it implied, her own eyes focused on the same doorway. A knot of disappointment thickened her throat. She had to admit that Jared’s disinterest in Katie had felt good. Now, however—
“So when did you become a teetotaler?” Jared asked. His eyes were still directed toward the doorway.
“I’ve never been much of a drinker.”
That was true enough, but she didn’t have any moral objections to alcohol. The abstinence Katie had mentioned had been occasioned purely by the medical considerations. Strictly by her pregnancy. And with Jared’s question, a flutter of apprehension brushed through her stomach. There was no way, she told herself reassuringly. No way he could suspect.
“You know that,” she added, and then wished she hadn’t. She was making too big of a deal of his question. Jared was very bright. She glanced up at him and found that he was still looking toward the door.
“She made it sound like you never drink,” he said.
“Katie and I don’t socialize all that much. I think she made an assumption, based on my refusal to have a drink one night when we were out. It was late, and I was tired. Sometimes...”
She stopped, knowing she was babbling. Providing too much information. Trying to clear herself with details. A cop like Jared would probably recognize those as a product of guilt.
“Sometimes?” He repeated her last word.
“Sometimes alcohol disturbs my sleep,” she said.
She was still looking up at him when he turned his head, eyes examining her face. “I never knew that,” he said.
“Does it really matter?” she asked, her tone too sharp.
“I guess not.”
Thankfully, the coat girl opened the door, drawing his attention. When Jared had tipped her, he held the coat for Robin to slip her arms into. After she had, Jared put both hands on her shoulders, squeezing them lightly.
“Where to?” he asked, his breath warm against her cheek.
“Did you really want a drink?”
“Not unless you do.”
She took a breath and then realized, belatedly, that he could probably feel its depth. “No,” she said softly.
“So how about another foot massage?”
“Actually, just taking my shoes off would feel wonderful right now.”
“My place or yours?” Jared said.
She moved slightly, and he immediately released her so that she was free to turn and face him. The possibilities ran through her mind. She needed to tell him about the baby before, being Jared, he figured it out. He was going to be angry enough as it was that she had delayed this long, but if he figured it out on his own before she had had a chance to tell him...
So would it be better to bring him to her hotel room to do that or to go to his apartment? If they went to his place, she would have a little more control about how long they were together. After all, if they were at his apartment, she could make some excuse and leave at any time.
But there would be all those memories there. Especially of the last night they had spent together. The night this baby had been conceived. Dangerous memories. Dangerous territory. So maybe her hotel room would be a better choice.
“Mine,” she said softly.
Chapter Six
Déjà vu all over again. Robin couldn’t remember who had said that, but in this case it certainly fit. Jared was sitting in the same chair he had been sitting in last night. And he had looked up again when she opened the door.
It had been the bathroom door this time. She had forgone the shower she had taken the previous evening, but she was wearing the same bathrobe, and she was barefoot.
“Did you want to order from room service?” she asked.
“You hungry?” His eyes considered her, briefly moving up and down her shrouded figure as he waited for her answer.
All the robe would reveal, as she had verified in the bathroom mirror, was a pale, strained face, two tired, swollen feet and a couple of hands that had been trembling since she had brought Jared to her room. After they arrived, she had retreated to the bathroom on the pretext of changing clothes. And it had felt good to get her shoes off and out of that ill-fitting dress.
Right now, however, she was wondering if undressing had been such a hot idea. It might seem like an invitation, which it wasn’t. And by hiding out those few minutes, she had only been delaying the inevitable.
She had brought Jared here to tell him about the baby, but she wasn’t looking forward it. Knowing Jared, she wasn’t worried about his response to the news that a baby was on the way.
She was worried, however, about his reaction to the fact she had waited so long to tell him. Dreading questions about her motives in getting pregnant. And most importantly, of course, worried about how he’d feel when she told him her pregnancy didn’t change her feelings about their situation.
While she’d been undressing, Jared had removed the black silk tie and loosened the collar of his shirt. It seemed impossible, but those simple adjustments had made him more attractive. A little rumpled. At ease. Sexier.
No wonder Katie had been practically salivating, Robin thought. She felt the same way, despite what she believed would happen in a few minutes. Something not nearly as pleasant as the emotions, and the memories, that were bombarding her right now.
“I’m not really hungry,” she said. Not for food, she admitted, looking at him. If it weren’t for the baby, however, she could have used a stiff bourbon and water right now.
“Something to drink?” Jared asked, almost reading her mind.
“I don’t want anything, but...feel free if you do.”
“Long day,” Jared said.
A question about hers? Or a comment on his own? Maybe an excuse for needing a drink? She couldn’t be sure from his tone, so she just nodded.
“So how about the foot massage?” he asked.
Which would provide a few minutes’ reprieve. Allow her to be with him a little longer. After all, it was possible that after she told Jared about the baby and explained to him that her pregnancy didn’t make any difference in how she felt about his job, this might be the last time he’d ever make that kind of offer. Any kind of offer.
Seeing Jared again had made everything so much harder, she realized. She had thought she knew exactly how she felt, only to find that when confronted with the reality of him, her emotions had been thrown into turmoil.
“Okay,” she said softly.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, just where she had been last night when he had unexpectedly stooped down to slip off her shoes. Now he seemed to hesitate, watching her with those too-knowing eyes. Jared had always been able to sense her mood better than anyone she had ever known. He was probably picking up on her anxiety. Wondering about its cause.
After a moment, he walked over, stooping to balance again on the balls of his feet in front of her. He lifted her left foot, cradling it in both hands. His fingers were warm, his palms a little callused, rough and very masculine, their darkness a contrast to the dead-of-winter paleness of her foot. He held her arch in his right palm and ran his thumb over the top, moving it up to her ankle and then slowly back down to her toes.
“Not so cold tonight,” he said.
“I wasn’t outside as long.”
With the fingers of his other hand, he traced over one of the marks her shoes had made, just where her toes began, rubbing them gently. “They seem a little swollen.”
“I’ve been on my feet a lot,” she said.
He nodded, his eyes still directed downward, apparently following the relaxing movement of his thumb. Not a massage. More like
a caress. “You want to tell me about it?” he asked.
It was almost the same question he’d asked her last night. And it could have applied to her comment about the length of her day. She knew that it didn’t, however, because she knew him.
“You know, don’t you?” she asked softly.
There was something incredibly intimate about the fact that he did. She had told no one about her pregnancy. Jared should be the first to know, of course, but she had never imagined that talking to him about the baby they had created together would make her feel this way. As if they were making love again.
“I have two sisters and three sisters-in-law,” he said, his voice still low, very calm. “Between them, they’ve had twelve kids. Believe me, I’m very familiar with the symptoms.”
The movement of his thumb hadn’t stopped. It didn’t, even as the silence expanded between them. Good silence or bad? Robin couldn’t decide. There had been nothing in his tone to give her a clue. “Are you angry?” she asked finally.
His eyes came up at that, considering her face before he answered. “Angry because you’re pregnant?”
“Because I didn’t tell you,” she said.
“Were you planning to?”
She nodded.
“Tonight?” he asked.
She nodded again.
“You could have told me last night.”
The movement of his thumb was mesmerizing. A little hypnotic. So was the quiet timbre of his voice. She could detect no anger in it. “I tried,” she said.
His turn to nod.
“It...isn’t easy,” she offered.
His mouth moved, a subtle flicker at one corner. “Why not?”
“I was afraid of how you’d react.”
“I guess that depends on what you’re going to do about it.”
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, beginning to be afraid of what he might tell her.
“Never ask a question you don’t want to hear the answer to.”
Her breathing froze, suspended. It wasn’t that the thought of ending this pregnancy hadn’t crossed her mind. At least in the very beginning. Now that she was so connected to this small life, to this baby, however...