The Irresistible Mr. Sinclair

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  For heaven’s sake, where was this maternal yearning coming from? She’d accepted the fact years before that she would never be a mother. But, oh, look at that face, that smile, that darling little boy.

  “Do you play hopscotch, Joey?” she heard herself ask.

  “No, no, no,” he said, frowning. “That’s a girl game. I’m a spaceship captain.”

  “This week,” Jennifer said, laughing. “Last week he was a fire fighter. Come on, Joey, I want to say hello to Aunt Martha.”

  “’Kay.” Joey grabbed Jennifer’s hand, then began to hop forward on both feet. “I’m Tigger.”

  “We’ll be back,” Jennifer said over her shoulder. “Let’s go, Tigger.”

  “What a wonderful child,” Janice said, unable to suppress the wistful tone in her voice.

  “Isn’t he, though?” Andrea said.

  “Want a couple of kids like Joey?” Brandon said, smiling at Andrea.

  “Yes, I do,” Andrea said, matching his smile. “Shall I place my order?”

  “It’s duly noted,” Brandon said.

  “Jennifer still isn’t seeing anyone, Brandon?” Taylor said.

  “No. She’s very stubborn on the subject,” Brandon said, frowning. “She says Joey is all she needs in her life. Janice, Jennifer’s husband was killed in a construction accident a week before Joey was born.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible,” Janice said.

  “Yeah, it was rough,” Brandon said. “She hasn’t dated anyone since Joe died.”

  “We’re working on that,” Aunt Charity said. “Where’s Ben today by the way?”

  “He’s at the hospital,” Brandon said. “There’s a baby insisting on being bom right in the middle of our wedding reception.”

  “How rude,” Aunt Charity said. “Well, he may show up later.”

  “Does Ben seem sort of...I don’t know... preoccupied or something to any of you?” Taylor said.

  “Yes, dear,” Aunt Prudence said with a sigh. “We’re quite concerned about our Ben. There is definitely something troubling him.”

  “Mmm,” Taylor said, frowning.

  A family, Janice thought. All of these special people were like a big, warm, loving family. Did they realize how fortunate they were?

  “Better get used to this,” Taylor said, turning to smile at Janice. “You’ll be coming up to check on the Sleeping Beauty outlet at Hamilton House quite often, I imagine. You’ll be getting the latest news about everyone whether you’re interested or not.”

  “Of course she’ll be interested,” Aunt Charity said. “Janice is a member of the family now.”

  Taylor reached behind Janice and pulled her long braid forward, stroking the silken hair gently with his thumb.

  “Yes,” he said quietly, looking directly into Janice’s eyes. “She is. She’s a member of the family.”

  Chapter Ten

  During the first hour of the drive down the mountain from Prescott, Janice chattered happily about the marvelous time she’d had at the picnic on the town square.

  She raved about the wonderful, friendly people she’d met, how touching the toast that the mayor had made to Andrea and Brandon had been, the delicious food that had been discovered in the wicker hamper, and on and on.

  When she finally floated off her cloud, she realized that Taylor was replying in monosyllables and not actually taking part in the conversation.

  He mumbled something about not having had an opportunity to speak privately with Ben when his friend had finally arrived at the party, then fell silent again.

  Janice looked over at Taylor, deciding not to press the issue of his rather solemn mood for fear that her own euphoric state of mind might be diminished.

  Nothing was going to tarnish the memories of the weekend,she decided firmly. She’d had such fun, had felt so free, young and accepted. It had been glorious, all of it, and she’d treasure the remembrances of every hour.

  She directed her attention to the beautiful sunset streaking across the heavens as they approached the edge of Phoenix.

  One more try, she thought. She had no idea why Taylor was so quiet, seemed so distant, self-absorbed, but she’d make a last attempt to communicate with him.

  “Isn’t the sunset gorgeous, Taylor?” she said, breaking the oppressive silence in the car.

  “What?” he said. “Oh, yes, nice, very pretty. Nothing can match an Arizona sunset.”

  “Taylor?” Janice turned toward him as much as her seatbelt would allow. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “I just have a great deal on my mind.”

  “Do you want to share? Talk about it? I’d listen, you know.”

  Share? Taylor mentally repeated. Share the fact that he was in love with her? Tell Janice the depth of his true and honest feelings for her? Announce that he was so terrified of that love that he had a cold fist tightened painfully in his gut?

  “No. Thank you, but no,” he said, producing a small smile. “I just have something on my mind that I have to work through.”

  Like how to fall out of love with Janice Jennings, he thought dismally.

  “Fair enough,” Janice said, nodding. “Well, I do want to thank you for a fabulous weekend.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. You made a lot of new friends in Prescott, Janice. Everyone liked you very much. Whenever you drive up to check on the Sleeping Beauty store in Hamilton House, you’ll be...well, welcomed home.”

  “As part of the family,” she said softly.

  Taylor reached across the console and squeezed one of her hands gently.

  “Yes,” he said. “You’re now a member of the family up there.”

  He released her hand and gripped the steering wheel again.

  Janice stared at him for a long moment, took a steadying breath, then lifted her chin.

  “And here, Taylor?” she said. “In this car? Who am I here, right now, with you?”

  The woman I love, he thought. She was his, in his heart, mind and soul, and he couldn’t handle the magnitude of that.

  “You’re...you’re a very special woman, Janice,” he said quietly. “Very rare. Very wonderful. You mean...a great deal to me.”

  “I care for you, too, Taylor, very much.”

  “Well, that’s...good, that’s fine...I guess.” Taylor sighed and shook his head. “Hell, Janice, I don’t know what to say to you. I’m very confused right now, okay? I do know that I don’t want to do anything, ever, to hurt you. Do you believe that?”

  Janice nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I do. I trust you, Taylor, and that’s not a statement that I would ever make lightly.”

  “I realize that, and I thank you.”

  They fell silent again. Darkness dropped over the splendor of nature’s sunset like a heavy curtain, then millions of stars began to twinkle in the black-velvet sky. Taylor merged into the heavy traffic of the city.

  The silence in the car continued, but it shifted, changed, began to simmer, then crackle with a sensuality that was nearly palpable as they drove closer and closer to Janice’s house.

  They became acutely aware of each other, of the small distance separating them, of the tantalizing heat of desire that was beginning to thrum low and insistent in their bodies.

  This weekend, Janice thought, this wondrous weekend, wasn’t over yet. Not yet. Taylor would carry her suitcase into the house, stand in her living room, prepare to say good-night to end their two days together. He’d probably kiss her, once, maybe twice, then leave.

  She’d close up the house, prepare for bed, slip between the cool sheets, then stare up into the darkness.

  Alone.

  Missing Taylor.

  Aching for Taylor.

  Wanting to make love with Taylor Sinclair.

  That was how it would be.

  Unless...

  Janice looked out the side window of the car, her heart and mind racing.

  Unless she gathered her courage and made it clear to Taylor that she wanted him beyon
d measure, that she wanted to make love with him through the hours of the night.

  Could she do it? Be that bold? Brave? Worldly? Would she regret taking such a momentous step when she faced what she’d done in the light of the new day?

  Janice turned her head to look at Taylor again, drinking in the sight of his handsome, rugged profile, of his strong but gentle hands as they held the steering wheel, of his long, powerful legs and broad shoulders.

  Along with the heat of desire that was pulsing deep within her, there was now a gentle warmth, a contented and firm sense of rightness about making love with this magnificent and complex man.

  What did that mean? she wondered. Was she falling in love with Taylor? Oh, what did it matter how deeply her feelings for him went?

  When Taylor walked out of her life, which he would surely do, she would cry the tears of despair, then gather her inner courage and fortitude, and move forward with her life once again.

  Alone.

  But as the days, weeks, months, then years passed, she would hold fast to the wondrous memories of what she’d shared with Taylor. Those glorious remembrances would be enough, would have to be, somehow, to see her through the remainder of her days.

  No, she didn’t know if she was falling in love with Taylor Sinclair. She had no experience in recognizing that momentous emotion. But that she cared for him very, very much was a given, a truth so fiercely intense it seemed as though she could actually touch it, hold it in her hands like a fragile treasure to be cherished.

  Oh, yes, she wanted to make love with Taylor this night and end the special weekend they’d spent together with the ultimate intimacy between woman and man.

  And she would have no regrets at dawn’s light.

  She had one wish left from the imaginary genie, Janice thought suddenly. Just one.

  Oh, little genie, she whispered in her heart and mind. I just couldn’t bear it if Taylor turned me away, rejected me, didn’t desire me as much as I do him. Please, genie, have him accept me just as I am, totally, completely, joyously. Let us have this night together, genie. Please.

  As Taylor drove into Janice’s driveway, she drew a steadying breath, then willed her heart to quiet its wild tempo.

  This was it, she thought. And this was very, very right.

  In the living room, Janice snapped on a lamp, then sat on the sofa with the box containing the crystal hummingbird statue she’d purchased in Prescott. She removed the delicate creation and looked over at Taylor where he stood by the front door holding her suitcase.

  “Just put that suitcase down anywhere,” she said, smiling. “I must find the perfect place for this, and I’d like your opinion. On the mantel here in the living room? What do you think?”

  Think? Taylor thought dryly. Janice wanted him to have an intelligent, rational thought somewhere in the jumbled mess called his mind? Not a chance.

  “I don’t know,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. He set the suitcase on the floor. “Didn’t you say that you have a picture of hummingbirds over your bed? Maybe the statue should go in the same room.”

  Dear heaven, Janice thought as a tantalizing shiver coursed through her. Taylor was suggesting that they go into her bedroom. Oh, yes, this was definitely it, the moment. She had to be worldly, sophisticated. And she would be, if her trembling legs supported her when she attempted to stand.

  “Well, let’s go see, shall we?” she said, getting to her feet rather tentatively.

  As Taylor followed Janice down the hall, he shook his head.

  If this scenario was taking place with anyone but Janice, he’d be wondering if she kept coffee in the house for him to brew in the morning. There they were, marching like little soldiers toward her bedroom, her bed.

  But this was Janice, and their destination didn’t mean anything more than selecting a place to put a pretty souvenir from their trip up north.

  Janice was so innocent, so naive, didn’t have a clue as to what the male population in general would assume from this invitation to enter her bedroom. Man, oh, man, he’d throttle any guy who tried to take advantage of Janice’s lack of knowledge of how the game was played.

  They entered the bedroom and Janice crossed the dark room to turn on the small lamp on the night-stand, casting a soft, rosy glow over the expanse.

  “Very nice.” Taylor swept his gaze around the room, unable to keep from lingering an extra moment on the king-size bed.

  Janice set the statue in the center of the round table next to the slipper rocker, then straightened and looked at Taylor.

  “How’s that?” she said.

  He walked forward slowly, stopping about two feet in front of her. He looked at the picture of the two hummingbirds hanging over the bed, the statue, then met Janice’s gaze.

  “Perfect,” he said, nodding.

  Okay, Sinclair, get the hell out of here. Now. “Yep, it’s dandy.”

  Good night, Janice. Goodbye, Janice. Sleep well, Janice. Sinclair, move it.

  Janice pulled her heavy braid forward and removed the rubber band, dropping it onto the table next to the crystal hummingbirds. She began to draw her fingers through her hair, freeing it from the braid.

  “I agree,” she said. “That’s where the statue belongs.” She paused. “Here. In my bedroom. I’ll see it every night and every morning. And, Taylor? When I look at it, I’ll remember this weekend I spent with you. Every detail. Every precious moment, every memory of it.”

  Taylor smiled slightly and nodded, realizing that a strange, achy sensation had closed his throat, making it impossible to speak.

  Janice was incredible, he thought. She took nothing for granted. He’d spent hundreds of dollars a pop to show a woman a good time over a weekend, only to have said woman thank him breezily, as though it had all been what was expected of him.

  But Janice? They’d tromped around a dinky little town in the mountains, for Pete’s sake, then sat on a scratchy blanket on the grass on the square and had a picnic.

  And there she stood, sincerity ringing in her voice as she expressed her gratitude for his providing her with such splendid memories.

  He felt so humble, so awed by the realness, rareness, the innocence and honesty she continually exhibited. There was nothing phony, nor manipulative about her. She was just Janice.

  And she was wonderful.

  But...but what in the hell was she doing to her hair?

  Taylor’s heart seemed to skip a beat, then started again in a wild tempo as Janice fanned her fingers at the nape of her neck beneath her hair. She lifted, then floated, the golden cascade forward to spill over her breasts in shimmering waves.

  Taylor swallowed heaviiy. “What are you doing? I mean... Lord, Janice, what are you doing?”

  “I want to end this weekend with the most glorious memory of all,” she said softly. “I want to make love with you, Taylor.”

  “But...” Taylor started, then stopped, his mind racing.

  No! he thought frantically. He couldn’t take this step with Janice. He couldn’t! He was already an emotional wreck, battling with himself over the depth of his feelings for her, and his inability to keep from falling in love with her.

  And if he made love with her, shared that intimate union?

  No! He needed to put distance between himself and Janice Jennings, snatch his heart away from her feminine clutches, and somehow, somehow, fall out of love with her before it destroyed him.

  But, oh, how he wanted her.

  Janice closed the short distance between them and circled Taylor’s neck with her arms. He kept his hands curled into tight fists at his sides.

  “Don’t you want me, Taylor?” Janice whispered. “I’m not asking for promises. There are no strings attached. There’s just now, this night, which is ours.” She brushed her lips over his. “Do you, Taylor? Want me?”

  And Taylor’s fragile thread of control snapped.

  With a groan of need that rumbled from deep in his chest, he buried his hands in Janice’s silken h
air and brought his mouth down hard onto hers, parting her lips, delving his tongue into the sweet darkness to meet her tongue.

  Oh, Taylor, yes, Janice thought dreamily, then gave way to her rising passion.

  The kiss was fire, flames licking through them with a heated flash that consumed them instantly. It was desire beyond anything they had ever known before. It was rich, and real and theirs.

  Taylor raised his head a fraction of an inch, took a sharp breath, then slanted his mouth in the opposite direction, claiming Janice’s lips once more. He drank of her, savored her, filled himself with the very essence of her.

  Slowly and so reluctantly he broke the kiss, then cradled Janice’s face in his hands, looking directly into her eyes.

  “Are you sure about this?” he said, hearing the gritty quality of his voice. “You’ll have no regrets? I couldn’t handle it, Janice, if you were sorry that we took this step.”

  “No regrets,” she said whisper-soft. “No promises asked, nor given.”

  “You know I want you,” he said.

  But he loved her, too, his mind hammered, and he shouldn’t be doing this. It was wrong, so damn dangerous, but he didn’t have the inner strength to walk away. Not now. Not tonight. It was too late. He’d face the ramifications of his actions tomorrow.

  Tonight was his.

  And Janice’s.

  Together.

  “And I want you, Taylor,” Janice said. “More than I can even begin to tell you.”

  Taylor nodded, then outlined the perfect shape of her moist lips with the tip of his tongue. Janice shivered from the tantalizing caress. He dropped his hands from her face and gripped bunches of the material of her tunic, inching it upward.

  Janice moved her hands from his neck to his forearms.

  “No,” she said. “I’m going to turn off the light.”

  “But I want to see you.”

  “No, Taylor, please. I need you to make love with me, the woman I am, the one you know as a person. Your acceptance of me, your want of me, has nothing to do with how I look. I don’t expect you to understand but, please, grant me this request. Please, Taylor?”