Distracted by her Virtue

by Maggie Cox

  Examining the room, he observed the tired furnishings and fittings that predominated. The space was generous and high-ceilinged, with beautifully moulded carved cornices, but in Jarrett’s opinion it cried out for the decor and fittings that would enhance the property’s stately appeal. It made him eager to call an interior designer friend of his and arrange for his company to fit a completely new bathroom for Sophia and her son. One that would have all the modern day accoutrements and luxury anyone could desire but would be sensitively done to enhance the grandeur and history of this beautiful old house.

  One step at a time, he told himself. Even though he genuinely had her wellbeing at heart, he had to be careful not to make assumptions about her needs.

  Dressed again in the jeans and black sweatshirt he’d worn on his three a.m. dash to the house, he returned downstairs to the kitchen, quietly whistling some bars of Puccini. There was no sign of the lady of the house. Curious as to where she might be, because after her shower he’d left her in the drawing room combing out her long damp hair in front of the fire, Jarrett proceeded along the corridor outside the kitchen, knocking on doors, calling out her name and opening them if there wasn’t a reply.

  Right at the back of the house he heard sounds that suggested furniture being moved or rearranged. He approached the wide open door he’d seen, and came to a standstill in the doorway at the surprising sight that met his eyes. Sophia appeared to be vainly trying to shift a tall metal cabinet on her own, and the task was obviously getting the better of her. She’d tied back her newly dried chestnut hair into some kind of loose topknot, and was clearly hot and a little bothered from her physical exertions. She impatiently blew some gently drifting strands of hair out of her eyes and cursed softly.

  The picture she made was utterly endearing … sexy too. Dressed in the faded blue jeans with the ragged hole in the knee, and an old green and white checked shirt that might have been a man’s, she could easily have graced any men’s ‘lifestyle’ magazine with her arresting image.

  Charmed and amused, and not a little turned-on all at the same time, Jarrett folded his arms and grinned. ‘What are you doing, wrestling with that metallic monster? Moving it or beating it into submission?’

  The emerald-green eyes in front of him flashed with enough electricity to start a fire. ‘Very funny … Instead of making fun of me you could give me a hand, you know!’

  ‘I wasn’t making fun of you.’ His mood immediately sobered. ‘Where do you want this archaic monstrosity moved to?’

  ‘I want to move it out into the corridor for the time being.’

  ‘Let’s do it, then.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m apt to be a little tetchy in the mornings.’

  ‘No need for an apology. What are you intending to do in here?’

  ‘Remember I told you that I was going to create a darkroom for my photography? Well, this is going to be it. It will be such a boon to have my own instead of paying a photographic company to print my photographs for me. Once upon a time this must have been some kind of utility room, but I think my aunt must have used it as a repository for junk mostly. The great thing is it’s got an old ceramic sink in it with running water, which can be my wet area for processing. But first of all I have to move all the old furniture out and clean the place up. Then I want to scrub down the walls and paint them white.’

  ‘That’s a new one on me … white for a darkroom?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  Sophia dropped her hands from round the metal cabinet as Jarrett took over and carefully stood it upright again. He paused to hear what she had to say next before he transferred the furniture out into the corridor, catching the faint tantalising drift of her perfume as he did so.

  ‘I’ve learned that white is the best colour for a darkroom. It helps save time trying to block out light spills.’

  ‘Well … if you need a hand with the painting … or anything else for that matter … I’m your man.’

  ‘Are you indeed?’

  Sophia took the wind out of his sails with a teasing little smile that all but cut him off at the knees. If she thought he could stay immune to such a provocative gesture then Jarrett was sorry—but he was only human. It was tantamount to expecting bees to keep away from a dripping honeypot.

  Brushing the dust from the cabinet off his hands, he caught her by the waist and impelled her firmly into his arms. The heat in him was already on simmer even before he held her. ‘If I’m not already … then I want you to know that I fully intend to be.’

  ‘You’re very sure of yourself!’

  ‘I told you before. When it comes to the things that are important to me I state what I want and go for it. It’s always been a policy of mine to err on the side of confidence.’

  ‘Well … if you’re feeling so confident perhaps you’d like to cook us some breakfast? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I have to confess that any kind of physical work never fails to stimulate my appetite.’ Her lips shaped another saucily provocative grin.

  Before he answered Jarrett paid her back by delivering a slow, no-holds-barred sexy kiss on her open mouth, drowning in her sweetly honeyed flavours. His passionate siege made her go limp in his arms. Satisfied he’d got the response he wanted, he made a Herculean effort to manfully resist further arousing temptation and smiled lazily down into her stunned green eyes instead.

  ‘I’ll happily cook us breakfast—but only if you promise to stay with me in the kitchen and keep me company. That way at least I can look at you from time to time. Then, after we’ve eaten, I’ll make a start helping you with the darkroom.’

  ‘Are you usually so amenable when a girlfriend asks you to do something?’

  His hands moved from either side of her slim waist down to the trim, shapely hips encased in softly napped denim and he held them fast, rocking her even closer into his body. The intimate contact almost made him groan out loud. It was still a thrill to him that Sophia allowed him such liberties—especially when her trust in men could very easily have been rendered obsolete by her deceased husband’s cruel exploits.

  ‘So you’re my girlfriend now, are you?’ He almost held his breath as he waited for her reply, even though he’d kept his tone teasingly light.

  In answer, Sophia endeavoured to give a nonchalant shrug, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her. ‘I suppose I must be … since we’ve slept together. I’m old-fashioned like that, I’m afraid. I’ve never seen sex as a form of recreation. I don’t think it should ever be taken lightly.’

  ‘Well …’ Bending his head, Jarrett lifted her hair to place a provocative kiss on the enticing juncture between her shoulder and neck. The combination of her silkily warm skin and her body’s naturally sexy scent instantly hardened him. ‘It’s lucky that I have a penchant for old-fashioned girls like you, isn’t it?’

  Jarrett wasn’t the only one finding it hard to resist temptation. A small gasp of breathily-voiced pleasure escaped Sophia’s lips. ‘Didn’t you—didn’t you say that you were working from home today?’ she asked, a small frown puckering her brow.

  As she met his smiling gaze her pretty face was rosily flushed, and the tantalising rise and fall of her chest beneath the checked shirt she wore illustrated that she was nowhere near as calm and unaffected as she might be endeavouring to portray.

  ‘I did. But if the choice is between working and being with you then I’m afraid there’s no contest. I’d much rather spend the day here, being your odd job man, than trying to get my head around work … that is if you have no objection?’

  ‘That’s … that’s fine with me.’

  ‘Good. So the first thing on the agenda is cooking breakfast, is it? I mean, you wouldn’t like to take a little R&R first?’ His fingers were busy slipping the buttons of her shirt through their buttonholes even as he talked.

  ‘As lovely as that sounds—ahh—how am I supposed to even think straight when you—when you—?’ Her even white teeth clamped heavily down on her plump lower li
p as Jarrett slipped the final three buttons free from their buttonholes and, curling his fingers round the two cotton sides of her shirt, opened them to reveal the prettily embroidered white bra she wore underneath. ‘You don’t play fair.’

  Her hand clamped onto his wrist to halt his eager aim to slip her shirt off of her shoulders, and with satisfaction he sensed it tremble.

  ‘But playing is exactly what I have in mind before I cook you the best breakfast you’ll ever eat,’ he told her, meaningfully lowering his voice.

  ‘I’d love to, but—’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of but …’

  ‘Jarrett … I’ve honestly got to crack on with this darkroom. It’s important for my livelihood. Please try and understand.’

  A second or two passed as he strove to get his amorous mood in check. Then he started to refasten the buttons on the shirt that he’d hoped would be just the first item of her clothing that he removed. ‘I do understand—but can I help it if you’re just too damn tempting for words?’

  ‘That lascivious look could tempt a nun from her vows, and I’m sure you know it, but luckily for me I have a will of iron,’ Sophia quipped back.

  ‘Lucky, is it? Forgive me if I can’t agree. Oh, well … I suppose I’d better try and distract myself by cooking that breakfast. At least it will keep me out of mischief for a while. But I can’t promise that I won’t try to get you naked later.’

  When he started to move away, with a rueful smile playing about his lips, Sophia laid her hand on his arm, her expression suddenly serious. ‘Jarrett? It’s not that I don’t want to make love with you again, because I do. Last night was—well, it was incredible. You made me feel like a woman again, instead of just an empty husk of the girl I used to be. It’s just that while Charlie is away this is too good an opportunity to make some real progress with my darkroom.’

  ‘You’re right. Of course it is. With my help you can get a fair amount done, too.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She smoothed back some drifting stray hairs that had escaped from her loosely fashioned topknot and the smile she gifted him with was intimately warm. ‘I also wanted to say thank you again for coming to my rescue in the middle of the night, and for agreeing to stay here with me today.’

  ‘It’s me who should be thanking you.’ Jarrett’s response was instantaneous and heartfelt. He deplored the idea that she might have even momentarily doubted he would want to stay. Catching her hand, he turned it over in his palm, then lifted it towards him to gently touch his mouth to her softly folded fingers. ‘And I’m here because I want to be, Sophia. I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else. Now, I suppose I’d better let you lead me to the kitchen before you accuse me of trying to starve you into submission.’

  ‘I would never try to coerce you into anything you didn’t want to do … by fair means or foul. If you think I would then you really need to get to know me better.’ Finishing her comment with a grin, and with her hand still in his, she spun round to pull him firmly towards the door. ‘But I have to tell you I’m highly intrigued to know whether you can cook half as well as you kiss, Mr Gaskill, and I’m warning you … you’d better not disappoint me!’

  Jarrett had indeed cooked Sophia the best breakfast she’d ever eaten. She shouldn’t have been at all surprised, because it seemed that the man could undertake any task given him and make it look like a master-class in effortless ease. And when they’d both moved back to her great-aunt’s old junk room to start work on transforming it into the darkroom she craved they’d worked alongside each other in complete harmony—moving furniture out into the hallway, briskly sweeping the stone-flagged floor clean after every item was removed.

  As if by unspoken consent they kept their conversation light, with a fair amount of mutual banter. But it wasn’t long before Sophia became aware that they were both trying hard to resist the powerful undercurrent of electricity that sparked between them whenever their gazes inadvertently met and held. She felt like an excited bride-to-be on the eve of her wedding day. And it wasn’t just Jarrett’s compelling dark looks or his tender lovemaking that fuelled her growing attraction towards him. His unfailing good humour was a powerful incentive too. Although sometimes she found herself holding her breath, in case his light-hearted teasing turned into a cruel or unkind barb, it never did.

  It bitterly saddened her to realise yet again that the desolate and painful years with her husband had set up a belief in her to expect to be treated badly by a man. Was she really going to let that soul-destroying experience dictate the pattern of the rest of her days? What effect might such a way of being have on Charlie? It hardly bore contemplation. No. If she wanted to change such a damaging belief then she had to be more determined to learn to trust … to anticipate love and respect instead of the hatred, mockery and deceit she’d lived with for far too long.

  ‘Jarrett?’

  ‘Hmm?’ He was halfway across the room, moving the last item of unwanted furniture—a squat gate-legged table—out into the corridor. He set it down on the stone flags and dusted off his hands.

  To Sophia’s amusement she saw that he had acquired a fair amount of dust on his sculpted cheekbones, as well as in his curling ebony hair. Crossing over to him she reached up on tiptoe to plant an affectionate kiss on his mouth.

  ‘What’s that for?’ The timbre of his voice was a little husky and his gaze became more intense.

  ‘You indicated when we first met that you were rather partial to apple pie.’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Yes, you did. You came up to me at the market, remember? You asked me if I wanted an extra guest for tea.’

  ‘So I did.’ His hands settled lightly either side of her hips as his beautifully carved lips quirked a smile. ‘My mother always taught me that if you don’t ask you don’t get.’

  ‘I thought I’d nip out to the corner shop and buy some cooking apples to make you one … as a reward for all your help. Sound good?’

  ‘Sounds very good … except for the fact that I don’t want you to go.’

  ‘I’ll only be gone about twenty minutes.’

  ‘Trust me—it will feel like a lifetime.’

  Dipping his head towards her, Jarrett delivered a melting kiss that buckled Sophia’s knees the instant his lips touched hers. As his tongue dived hotly into her mouth, eliciting a helpless moan from her, it made her think about the exciting possibility of whiling away the rest of the afternoon in bed with him. The thought made her tremble. Funny how the imperative to get on with her darkroom suddenly waned in light of such a provocative alternative …

  Consequently it took every ounce of will-power to extricate herself from his enticing embrace so that she could carry out her mission to bake him an apple pie. ‘I won’t be long,’ she said, and with her heart racing she smiled cheerfully and headed for the door. ‘I promise.’

  Rowena Phillips—the middle-aged brunette with the rather severely pencilled-in eyebrows who ran the local corner shop—had never exhibited the least bit of friendliness towards Sophia before. In fact there were times when she’d been downright unhelpful—hostile, even. As far as Sophia knew, all she’d done to warrant such an attitude was to arrive in the village as a stranger and keep herself to herself. But now, as the door swung shut behind her with the tinkle of a melodic bell to announce her entrance, the older woman’s small dark eyes widened with peculiar interest as she recognised her customer.

  ‘Hello, dear. What can I do for you today?’

  Her voice had acquired the kind of fake cheeriness that immediately put Sophia on her guard. Her glance honed in on the basket of cooking apples in the aisle opposite the newspapers, and she helped herself to one of the brown paper bags that hung suspended from a small nail above. ‘I’d just like three or four cooking apples, thanks,’ she answered distractedly, wanting to pay for the fruit and get out of there as quickly as possible.

  ‘Baking an apple pie, are we?’

  ‘Yes, I am, as a matter of fact.’

&nb
sp; Flustered by the unwanted attention, Sophia quickly slipped three large green apples into a paper bag and approached the counter. As the woman relieved her of the bag to weigh them on the scales, Sophia saw that she was deliberately taking her time about it. It quickly became obvious that she had something on her mind that she wanted to share.

  ‘I see that you’ve become very friendly with our local landowner, Mr Gaskill,’ she remarked. ‘Wasn’t that his Range Rover that I saw parked outside High Ridge this morning?’

  For a dizzying moment Sophia was dumbstruck. Feeling her cheeks flush hotly in embarrassment, she agitatedly closed the purse she’d just taken from her jacket pocket and opened in readiness to pay for the apples. ‘What possible business is it of yours or anyone else’s who I’m friendly with?’ she answered through numbed lips, suddenly wishing that she’d ignored the spontaneous urge to bake Jarrett an apple pie and stayed home with him instead.

  ‘I was only being neighbourly, Ms Markham … But you keep yourself to yourself, don’t you? A small village like this … well, we’re apt to notice things like that.’

  ‘That I value my privacy, you mean?’

  ‘No. That one of our most successful local businessmen is parked outside your house in the early hours of the morning.’

  ‘I’d like to pay for the apples, if you don’t mind. I’m in a hurry.’

  In response Rowena Phillips curtly stated the price, holding out her hand at the same time. Sophia opened her purse and counted out the right money. Lifting up the bag of apples, she dropped them into her hessian shopping bag. Intent on leaving, she was about to turn away when the shop’s presumptuous proprietor added another barbed aside.

  ‘You do know that Jarrett Gaskill has always wanted to own High Ridge Hall, don’t you? I heard he made several attempts to try and buy it when Miss Wingham died, but you obviously pipped him to the post.’

  Inside her chest Sophia’s heart was thundering so hard that she suddenly felt quite faint. She struggled to make the words teeming in her brain leave her lips. ‘Exactly what are you trying to say, Mrs Phillips?’