The Irresistible Mr. Sinclair

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “Way to go, big boy,” Aunt Charity said, poking Taylor in the ribs with her elbow.

  Taylor laughed, but sobered in the next instant.

  Way to go? he thought. He sure wished he knew just where he and Janice were actually going in this strange relationship of theirs.

  He needed answers.

  And he fully intended to get them.

  Soon.

  Chapter Nine

  Taylor straightened a bright red sweater over the jeans he was wearing to Andrea and Brandon’s wedding reception on the town square that afternoon. He combed his hair, glanced at his watch... again... then slouched onto an easy chair in Andrea and Brandon’s apartment.

  It was still too early to collect Janice and walk over to the square for the party, he thought. And there he was again, acting like an ants-in-his-pants teenager waiting to pick up his date.

  Taylor rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, made a steeple of his fingers and tapped his lips restlessly against them.

  Dinner the previous night had been a really enjoyable event, he mused. He’d had a terrific time, pure and simple. Everyone liked Janice, he could tell, and it was obvious that her warmth and openness were genuine.

  Ben Rizzoli had been his usual charming self, although he had seemed a bit preoccupied at times. Aunt Pru had frowned with concern whenever she’d looked in Ben’s direction.

  Just what he needed. Another mystery. More unanswered questions. Maybe he’d get an opportunity to speak with Ben alone during the reception.

  Taylor checked his watch again, then shook his head in self-disgust.

  He’d urged Janice to sleep late since she was obviously suffering from the effect of the mile-high altitude. He’d spent the morning with Brandon, lugging cases of soda to the plaza and putting the cans in tubs of ice. The activity had served as only a minor distraction.

  So, Janice? Taylor thought. How are you? What frame of mind are you in today, lovely lady? What will you choose to wear to a picnic on the square to cover up your sexy, Sleeping Beauty lingerie?

  Sleeping Beauty. Yes, Brandon was right. That was exactly who Janice Jennings was...Sleeping Beauty.

  She was waiting for her prince, the man who would awaken her, give her the confidence to emerge from her cocoon and become the beautiful butterfly she was capable of being.

  A man who loved her enough to encourage her to embrace the full extent of her femininity.

  Love Janice? Fall in love, be in love, with Janice Jennings? Lord, that was a terrifying thought. To love was to eventually lose, to suffer heartache beyond measure.

  Love came, then was gone, either through death or a disintegration of that love from the pressures of day-to-day life.

  No, thank you, he’d pass.

  But what if he fell in love with Janice despite his fierce determination not to? Could that actually happen? Hell, he didn’t know.

  What he did know was that leaving Janice at her door last night after sharing a searing kiss with her had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. She’d responded to that kiss totally, had seemed to melt into him, become a part of him, that he definitely had not wanted to let go.

  This wasn’t the time, he’d mumbled to Janice. Andrea and Brandon were expecting him to sleep in their guest room. When they made love, it would be private, theirs, not common knowledge to everyone around them.

  “When,” Taylor said.

  He kept saying that. Not if, but when, and Janice never called him on the carpet about that choice of a word. She wanted him, desired him, wished to make love with him with the same intensity that he wanted her.

  But what if making love with Janice pushed him over the emotional edge, caused him to fall in love with her?

  “No,” Taylor said, lunging to his feet.

  He began to pace, hands shoved into his pockets, a deep frown on his face.

  He had to back off, to put some distance between himself and Janice, return to his original role of being her accountant, nothing more. To continue on the path he was heading with Janice was far too emotionally dangerous.

  Taylor stopped in his tracks as a chill swept through him.

  That would mean he would never kiss Janice again, never hold her in his arms, nestle her close to his body, never see her expressive blue eyes turn smoky with want, desire for him, only him.

  Lord, what a cold, empty picture that painted in his beleaguered mind.

  You could be lonely even as we speak and not even know it.

  “Okay, okay,” Taylor said, resuming his trek around the room.

  Janice had filled a void within him that he hadn’t realized existed, he admitted to himself. He felt...complete when he was with her.

  He wanted to stay by her side, missed her when they were separated even for a short length of time, was acutely aware of his masculinity when Janice, the woman, was with him.

  Janice’s smile was like a precious gift, her lilting laughter like music. The sparkle in her eyes was more beautiful than the most expensive sapphires. Her honesty and innocence—her realness—were so rare, so wonderful, they were meant to be cherished.

  The image in his mind of a future without Janice was so bleak, and dark, and empty. She was sunshine and flowers, a breath of fresh, spring air.

  She was his.

  And this, Taylor thought frantically, must be love.

  He stopped again and dragged shaking hands down his face.

  “Oh, Lord,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “What have I gone and done? And what in the hell am I going to do about it?”

  Run, his mind hammered. He had to put physical and emotional distance between himself and Janice. Now. He would not, could not, touch her again, nor hold or kiss her. No.

  Love not nurtured would dim, flicker like the flame on a candle, then finally disappear, just cease to exist. He would regain command of his heart, his mind and soul, wouldn’t be rendered vulnerable, without protection against the agony of heartache that came when love ended.

  But...

  The mere thought of walking out of Janice’s life was already causing him pain. His heart hurt, it actually, physically hurt.

  Now wait a minute. He was in charge. He was making the conscious decision to end his relationship with Janice. Surely that pain would ebb quicker than if he allowed fate to call the shots.

  Wouldn’t it?

  “Ah, hell,” he said fiercely. “I’m a wreck, a total wreck.”

  He had to calm down, get a grip. He couldn’t think all this through clearly because he was about to spend more time with Janice.

  They’d attend the wedding reception together, then they still had the drive back down the mountain to get through.

  His thoughts would simply have to go on hold until he was safely in his own apartment in Phoenix, alone, able to view the situation reasonably and rationally.

  In the meantime, he’d blank his mind, force a smile and survive the remainder of this day. Somehow.

  In her room, Janice began to twist her hair into its usual bun, then hesitated.

  A bun for a picnic? she thought. Maybe that was a bit much. She was wearing baggy tan slacks and a shapeless green tunic that hung to the middle of her thighs.

  Perhaps her apparel was enough camouflage for this particular event. She could afford to give an inch. She didn’t wish to totally embarrass Taylor by her appearance.

  “Fine,” she said, nodding decisively. “One teeny, tiny inch.”

  She twisted her hair into the single braid that she wore when she went swimming in her pool. After securing the end with a rubber band she found in her cosmetic bag, she peeked at her reflection in the mirror.

  So much for her grand concession, she thought. She didn’t look any different from before. Wearing a braid down her back, instead of a bun at the nape of her neck, was not a major happening, except that it was much more comfortable not to have that bulky weight on her neck. It reminded her of no longer suffering from tired-nose syndrome from the unnece
ssary glasses.

  “Taylor probably won’t even notice my hair,” she said aloud with a shrug.

  Taylor most definitely noticed.

  When Janice answered his knock at the door, she greeted him with a cheerful hello, then spun around to hurry to the bed to retrieve her purse.

  Taylor’s eyes widened and his heart began to beat a wild tattoo as he saw the long, golden braid swing through the air.

  Lord, he thought, Janice’s glorious hair was that long? Imagine, just imagine, what it would be like falling free when they made love, caressing his body with a silken touch, cascading over Janice’s breasts in a tantalizing curtain to be brushed aside by him to glimpse the feminine bounty beneath.

  Janice Jennings was torturing him, killing him by inches, right there on the spot.

  “I’m all set,” Janice said, returning to stand in front of Taylor, a bright smile on her face. “Do you know that this is the very first picnic I’ve ever been on in my entire life?”

  This woman had stolen his heart, Taylor thought incredulously. She’d actually done it. There was no denying it, nowhere to hide from the truth.

  He was deeply in love with Janice.

  “Taylor?” Janice cocked her head slightly to one side and looked at him questioningly. “Is something wrong? You’re awfully pale all of a sudden. Are you ill?”

  Ill? Taylor thought. Yeah, he was ill, if being insane counted. Falling in love was the last thing he’d intended to do in his lifetime. He was so damn angry with himself, he could spit.

  “Taylor?”

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry. I was off in space somewhere.” He cleared his throat when he heard the raspy quality of his voice. “I...I like your hair that way, Janice.”

  “You do?” She caught the braid and pulled it to the front of her body. “I didn’t think you’d even notice. When I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t see any difference in my appearance.”

  Taylor dragged his gaze from where the braid was sloped sensuously over Janice’s right breast, and looked directly into her eyes.

  “There’s a difference,” he said, nodding. “Your hair is...I don’t know...softer around your face. It’s very nice, attractive, very pretty. You sure have a lot of hair, don’t you? It’s lovely...your hair. It’s like a marigold, a...” He paused and shook his head. “Ah, hell, forget it.”

  “A marigold? Why thank you, Taylor. That’s a compliment I’ll cherish. You continually... well, you make me feel very special.”

  Because I’m in love with you, damn it, Taylor’s mind hollered. And guess what, Janice Jennings? That really ticks me off.

  “Come on,” he said gruffly. “We’re going to be late to the party.”

  As Janice and Taylor walked toward the square, she slid glances at him, noting the tight set to his jaw, the frown lines etched between his eyebrows.

  Why was Taylor so grumpy? she wondered. There was obviously something troubling him that had caused him to be in a less-than-chipper mood. But even cranky he was so handsome, so virile, just oozed a blatant masculinity that was nearly tangible.

  She wanted to step in front of him, forcing him to stop, then wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him until they were both dizzy with desire.

  Shame on you, she thought, swallowing a bubble of laughter that threatened to escape from her lips. But, oh, goodness, she felt so happy, young, carefree. She was about to take part in her very first picnic with the most magnificent man she’d ever known.

  Taylor, who made her feel so feminine, a perfect counterpart to his masculinity.

  Taylor, who accepted her just as she was, which was a gift to her that was so rare and wonderful it defied description in its splendor.

  Taylor, who inch by emotional inch was chipping away at her protective walls, coming closer and closer to capturing her heart for all time.

  Oh, my, she thought, nearly stumbling. Was she falling in love with Taylor Sinclair?

  “Why haven’t you ever been on a picnic?” Taylor said suddenly, drawing Janice from her shocking thoughts.

  “What? Oh, well, my mother wasn’t into things like picnics. She had a one-track mind.”

  “Set on what?” he said, glancing over at her.

  Beauty pageants, Janice thought. Parading her daughter in front of judges, strangers, the people who would determine if she was beautiful enough to pass, to be accepted, the one to win the prize. Damnable beauty pageants.

  “It’s not important,” she said. “It was a very long time ago. Old news. My goodness, look at all the people on the square. This is going to be quite a party.”

  “Mmm,” Taylor said.

  What was Janice keeping from him? he thought. Whenever the subject of her youth, her mother, came up, she skittered in another direction.

  Didn’t she trust him enough to share her innermost secrets with him?

  What was it about her childhood, her mother, that upset her? What had caused the pain he’d seen in her beautiful blue eyes? He wanted, needed, to know, to be assured that Janice knew that he would never hurt her.

  Their relationship was based on a foundation of honesty, of—

  Oh, yeah?

  If he was being so almighty honest with Janice, why didn’t he open his mouth and declare his love for her? He was keeping a secret from her... big time.

  I love you, Janice. Janice, I love you. In love with you, Janice, is what I am.

  A trickle of sweat ran down Taylor’s chest.

  No way. He wasn’t about to tell her how he felt. He was having enough trouble coming to grips with the realization of his emotions without blurting them for Janice to hear.

  Besides, there was no point in telling her because he was determined to fall out of love with her. To love, to lose, to be ripped to shreds—no, it was more than he could handle.

  As Janice and Taylor stepped onto the lush, grassy carpet of the square, the crackling excitement cascaded over them, along with a high volume of chatter and laughter. Blankets were spread everywhere as well as a generous number of lawn chairs.

  “Hey, big boy,” Aunt Charity yelled above the din. “We’re over here.”

  Taylor smiled and waved, then he and Janice wove their way through the crowd. Aunt Charity and Aunt Prudence were sitting on lawn chairs next to two blankets on the ground. A large wicker hamper was in the center of the blankets.

  An attractive woman in her early thirties smiled the moment she saw Taylor, and rushed over to give him a hug.

  “Hello, handsome man,” she said. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

  “Hello, sweetheart,” Taylor said. “You’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

  A knot tightened in Janice’s stomach as she swept her gaze over the woman Taylor was holding in his arms.

  She really was beautiful, she thought. She was tall and slender, had lovely green eyes and wavy, strawberry-blond hair that skimmed her shoulders. She was wearing snug jeans and a green sport top that accentuated her eyes and figure to perfection.

  This was the type of woman Taylor was accustomed to being with. She was gorgeous and certainly self-assured, as evidenced by the way she’d flung her arms around Taylor without a second’s hesitation.

  Well, fine, Janice thought, taking a shaky breath. It was probably for the best that this had happened. It was a reality check, a reminder of the way things actually were.

  The woman stepped out of Taylor’s embrace and extended one hand to Janice.

  “You must be Janice Jennings,” she said, smiling. “I’m Jennifer Mackane. I’m the manager of the dining room at Hamilton House, but I’ve been enjoying my blissful days off while you’ve been staying at the hotel I understand you’re to have one of the specialty shops when they’re up and running.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Janice said, managing to produce a small smile as she shook Jennifer’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jennifer.”

  “We all owe you a thank-you for getting our Taylor up to Prescott again,” Jennifer
said. “I’ve missed him.”

  “Oh,” Janice said.

  “Taylor, Brandon and Ben—have you met Ben?” Jennifer went on. “Anyway, the three of them were like my big brothers when we all grew up here in Prescott. That was fine when we were little kids, but when I started dating I could have strangled them. They kept appearing at all the wrong moments, and wreaked complete havoc with my adolescent love life.”

  “Oh?” Janice repeated, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

  “We took our roles as your big brothers very seriously,” Taylor said, chuckling. “We still do, as a matter of fact. Are you dating anyone who needs to have the rules and regulations explained to him?”

  Taylor viewed beautiful Jennifer Mackane as a sister? Janice’s heart sang. Wasn’t that just the sweetest thing?

  “No, I am not,” Jennifer said. “But I wouldn’t tell you if I was, you troublemaker. There’s only one guy in my life and he’s all I need.” She glanced around. “Oops. Where did he go?”

  “There he is,” Taylor said. “He’s getting a ride on Brandon’s shoulders, and they’re headed this way.”

  Janice watched Brandon and Andrea approach. Perched on Brandon’s shoulders was a cute little boy about four years old, who had the same color eyes and hair as Jennifer.

  “Greetings,” Brandon said, stopping by the group.

  “Hi, Joey,” Taylor said to the child. “I bet you can see everything from up there.”

  “Yep,” Joey said. “I’m high as the sky, Uncle Taylor. I’m big, big, big.”

  “And heavy, heavy, heavy,” Brandon said, swinging Joey to the ground. “What do you feed this kid, Jennifer?”

  “I’m hungry, Mommy,” Joey said.

  Brandon laughed. “I rest my case.”

  “I’m four,” Joey said to Janice, holding up the appropriate number of fingers. “I was three, but then I had my birthday party, and then I got to be four, so I’m four. Four is better than three.”

  “It certainly is,” Janice said, smiling.

  Oh, what a precious little boy, she thought. How blessed Jennifer Mackane was to have him. From the conversation that had taken place, it was obvious that Jennifer was a single mother, who was devoted to her son. Imagine seeing that cherub’s face the first thing each morning, then tucking him safely into bed at night.