Seductively Yours

by Gina Wilkins

  He heard her breath catch, and he immediately regretted his words. They’d been vicious and unfair—and to make it worse, they had been directed as much at his late wife as they had at Jamie. “Damn it, Jamie, I—”

  Her voice was very composed when she interrupted, and he could only imagine how much stage experience it must have taken for her to keep it that way. “Funny,” she said. “I would have thought you, of all people, would have known how foolish it is to listen to gossip.”

  “Let’s just say I learned last year that the gossip is sometimes true,” he answered bitterly. “My unfaithful wife taught me that painful lesson very well. And I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t be made to look the fool twice.”

  Jamie digested his revelation in silence for a moment before speaking again. “Whatever problems you had with your wife,” she said quietly, “it isn’t fair of you to take them out on me.”

  “You’re right.” His voice was gruff. “It’s just that—well, there was talk of what happened in New York between you and that actor. And then, when I saw you with Clark, and with that guy, Joe…”

  “I’ve been told that I act too friendly sometimes, that my actions could be misinterpreted. That’s what happened in New York, by the way. I tried to help a friend through a difficult time and it backfired on me. Maybe the reason I came on so strong with you is that I’ve always been so damn attracted to you. You seem to have misinterpreted that, too—though you certainly didn’t mind taking advantage of it. Maybe you did have a few misconceptions about actors and the wild lives they lead,” she mused. “Or maybe you just wanted a woman—any woman—and I was convenient. A little too convenient, it seems.”

  Trevor imagined that if someone were to measure him with a ruler, he would have shrunk several inches during her quiet speech. She’d made him feel very small—primarily because so many of the things she had said had hit much too close to home. “You don’t understand—”

  “No. I don’t understand, because you haven’t talked to me. You’ve never told me how you feel about me. You’ve never let me know what, if anything, you wanted from me—besides sex, of course.”

  He winced.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again and her voice was almost sad. He wasn’t used to hearing Jamie sound that way. “This isn’t going to work. I’ve been deluding myself. Funny, I thought I’d outgrown that since the last time.”

  The last time? “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “When we were teenagers, I convinced myself that we could be together. I thought if I could make you want me, I could make you love me. You decided I was wrong for you then, and you left, without ever looking back at me. This time, I pretended things were different. We were finally in the right place at the right time, or so I wanted to believe. But once again, I was the only one in love. You’ve had your fun—your kisses behind the gym, in a manner of speaking—and now you’re moving on. And once again, I’m going to wish you well and let you go.”

  Love. The word echoed through his mind, nearly drowning out all other thought. He didn’t know how to respond.

  “This is mostly my fault, of course. The signs were all there, and I chose to ignore them. You never gave me any reason to expect a future with you. You’ve never made me a part of your life. And I’ve had the feeling that you’ve deliberately kept me away from your children.”

  He frowned then. “I have a responsibility to protect my children.”

  “You felt you needed to protect them from me?”

  Again, he detected hurt in her voice, and he imagined himself shrinking another few inches. “I just didn’t want them to get too attached to you, in case things didn’t work out between us. They’ve lost their mother—I don’t want them to go through anything like that again.”

  “And you were pretty sure that things wouldn’t work out between us, weren’t you? You’ve never expected, maybe never even wanted, anything different. It turns out you never even trusted me. I don’t blame you if you can’t love me, but I deserved better than to be used as a warm body to ease your loneliness.”

  She took his silence as a response. “We managed to avoid each other for the first few months after I moved back. I’m sure we can do it again, for the most part. People will talk, of course, and speculate about what happened between us, but something new will come along to entertain them soon.”

  She was breaking up with him. Writing him off. Putting an end to whatever it was they had found together. And even though he knew it was his own fault, he suddenly panicked. “Jamie, wait—”

  “Goodbye, Trevor,” she said gently. “It was, well, it was definitely interesting.”

  She’d called him Trevor. Not the more casual and intimate Trev. He was still trying to come up with the right words when she hung up, leaving nothing but a dial tone in his ear and an empty ache in his heart.

  She had replaced her receiver gently. Trevor slammed his home so hard the instrument jangled in protest. And then he grimaced, hoping his tantrum hadn’t woken the kids.

  He sat for a long time in silence, one hand still resting on the telephone, his eyes fixed on nothing, his thoughts dark and unfocused. He finally stood, grinding a curse out between his teeth. He needed a drink to smooth the edges of the jagged guilt inside him. To ease the regret. To soothe the ache of unfulfilled needs. Maybe to calm the fear.

  He picked up the bottle, and reached for a glass. Then he just stood there, unable to move, her words haunting him.

  Once again, I was the only one in love.

  His hand clenched so tightly around the glass that he was surprised it didn’t shatter. Moving very deliberately, he set the unopened bottle on a high shelf and put the glass back in the cabinet. And then he turned off the light and sank into his usual chair, his hands fisted on his knees.

  He wouldn’t numb the pain tonight, he told himself. He deserved to feel it all.

  “SHE’S A DELIGHTFUL young woman. Very quiet and refined, exactly what I think you would like. And she loves children. Why don’t you give my great-niece a call?” Martha Godwin urged. “I’m sure you’ll like her.”

  Trevor made no effort to be tactful. “I’m really not interested.”

  Ignoring the people milling around them in the bank lobby where they’d met by accident, Martha shook a finger at him. “You should listen to me, Trevor. You need a wife and those children need a mother. As interesting as Jamie Flaherty is, I’m sure you realize she’s hardly—”

  Trevor didn’t want to hear the end of that sentence. “I have to go. Goodbye, Mrs. Godwin.”

  “Now, Trevor, I haven’t finished talking to you.”

  Yes, she had. Trevor had no intention of waiting around for more. Ever since word had gotten out that he and Jamie weren’t seeing each other anymore, he’d been besieged by elderly women trying to fix him up. Apparently, they had taken his interest in Jamie as a sign that he was ready to date again.

  It was hard enough dealing with his own problems without having to put himself at the mercy of the local matchmakers. And he didn’t want to meet another woman. Jamie was the only woman he wanted—so badly he wasn’t sure he would survive another night without her. And yet he still hadn’t found the courage to go after her. To risk hearing her say that she had finally gotten him out of her system, once and for all.

  It was a relief to have even the fifteen minutes of solitude he got during the drive across town. It had been two weeks since he and Jamie had split up, and he had reacted to the breakup the same way he’d handled Melanie’s death. He’d withdrawn, hiding behind work and his children, trying to keep himself too busy to think. Except in the middle of the night, of course, when there had been nothing left to do except sit in his living room and brood.

  He missed her. He missed her quirky observations on life, her near-blinding smiles, her contagious sense of humor. Her generous affection—too generous, he had feared. But when it had been focused solely on him, it had been great. She’d been able to make him laugh, to make
him forget. To make him feel alive again. And he missed her.

  Even if he could ever convince her to give him another chance—and that was a huge ‘if,’ considering the things he’d said to her—did he really have the courage to try again? For the children’s sake—for his own—should he take the risk again?

  He was almost overwhelmed by the urge to say yes. He was fully, angrily aware that it was pure fear that held him back.

  JAMIE WAS IMPATIENT for school to start again. As busy as she had kept herself during the two weeks that had passed since Trevor McBride had broken her heart again, it still wasn’t enough. She needed to fill more hours. It was the first week of August and teachers were to report back to school in less than three weeks, she reminded herself. As far as she was concerned, the time couldn’t pass quickly enough.

  She’d been fortunate that she hadn’t run into Trevor yet. It was inevitable, of course—Honoria wasn’t that big. And she supposed it really didn’t matter how much time passed before it happened. For the rest of her life, it was going to hurt to see Trevor McBride and know they would never be together.

  They ran into each other, almost literally, at the post office. It was raining, and Jamie had forgotten her umbrella. She jumped out of her car and made a dash for the door, skidding to a stop in a puddle of water just before she crashed into the back of someone.

  That someone was Trevor.

  Glancing down at her, he immediately shifted his large black umbrella so that it sheltered them both, although Jamie was already wet. For one of the few times in her life, she couldn’t think of anything to say. They entered the building in silence. Only when they were inside, out of the rain, did Trevor speak. “It’s really coming down, isn’t it?”

  Oh, God, she thought. They were going to have a polite discussion about the weather. She wasn’t sure she could handle that. “Is it? I haven’t noticed.”

  The faintly reproachful look he gave her almost broke her heart again. It was so typical of Trevor. “How have you been?” he asked.

  “I’ve been better,” she answered candidly, “but I’ve been worse, too, so I won’t complain.”

  “Jamie—” He looked suddenly resolute, as if he had just then made up his mind about something. “Let’s get out of here. We can have a cup of coffee or something.”

  He didn’t trust her, she reminded herself. He hadn’t trusted her even when he had made love with her. And nothing had ever hurt her more. Not the first time he’d rejected her, when he’d said he was leaving for college and wanted nothing to tie him down in Honoria. Not even the day she had heard that he was engaged, or when she’d read his wedding announcement in the local newspaper that she’d always had mailed to her in New York. She could have lived with the fact that he didn’t love her, but to know he didn’t trust her, that he’d only been using her—that was simply too painful to accept. “No.”

  His eyes narrowed in that stubborn look of his. “We need to talk.”

  “We talked,” she reminded him. “And, frankly, I didn’t enjoy it much.”

  “Damn it—”

  “Goodbye, Trevor. I would ask you to give my love to the children, but I know how important it is for you to protect them from my influence.”

  Okay, so it was a cheap shot. She figured she deserved a couple. Because she was afraid she would give in to her craven heart and change her mind, she nodded curtly and turned on one heel. He didn’t try to stop her when she walked away—and that only hurt her all over again.

  12

  JAMIE WAS EXPECTING a call Friday afternoon. Susan had delivered a healthy baby boy Wednesday night and had expected to be released from the hospital Friday morning. She’d promised to call and report on their progress. When the phone rang, Jamie snatched it up, picturing Susan at home with her son. The image was bittersweet. As happy as she was for her friend, Jamie couldn’t help being aware of how slim the chances were that she would ever hold her own child.

  She was startled to hear Trevor’s voice on the other end of the line. “Jamie. It’s Trevor.”

  Her first instinct was to tell him again that she didn’t want to talk to him. She simply couldn’t get involved with him again without trust. But something she heard in his voice made her hesitate. “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s my brother, Trent.”

  The depth of anguish in his tone struck at her heart. “Oh, God. What’s happened?”

  “He’s been in a plane crash. There’s a chance he—” “I’m so sorry,” she said. “What can I do?”

  He had recovered his voice, though it was still gruff. “My parents and I are flying to him immediately.”

  “Of course. Who will watch Sam and Abbie?”

  “That’s why I called. Can you take care of them for me?”

  She was so startled by the question that it took her a moment to answer. “You want them to stay with me?”

  “Yes. It would be ideal if you could stay here with them, but I’ll bring them to you, if that’s better for you. I know I’m asking a lot…”

  “What about Emily? Or your nanny?”

  “Emily’s still in Alabama with Wade’s family. Sarah left yesterday for a week-long vacation in Florida. Even if Sarah had been in town, I would have called you first. Sam’s going to be upset enough that I’m leaving. Having you with him will make it easier for him. But if you’d rather not, there are other people I can call.”

  “It isn’t that I mind. But I’ve had so little experience with children. I’m afraid I’ll do something wrong.”

  “If I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t have asked.”

  Jamie had to believe him. No matter what their personal history, he would never leave his children with someone he didn’t trust to take care of them. “When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as we can.”

  “I’m on my way.” There were tears in her eyes when she hung up the phone. She blinked them away and dashed toward the bedroom to throw some clothes in a suitcase. Maybe she was only a convenience for him again, but she could no more have turned him down than she could have flown. He needed her, and so did his children.

  Trevor met her at his door less than half an hour later. The expression on his face made her eyes fill again. “Oh, Trev. I’m so sorry,” she said, putting her arms around him.

  He gathered her close for a fierce hug, and for several long moments they just stood there, holding each other, Jamie offering comfort, Trevor accepting it. He finally drew away. “Abbie’s taking a nap,” he said roughly. “Sam’s in his room. He’s upset that I’m leaving, though I think he understands that I have to go. I wrote down everything I could think of that you need to know. I’ll call as often as I can.”

  “We’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Go to Trent.”

  He started to speak, then choked. Jamie rested a hand against his cheek. “Your brother’s going to make it. I feel it.”

  “Jamie Flaherty’s brand of optimism,” he murmured, putting his hand over hers. “I’ll try to hold on to it.”

  “You do that. Do you want to say goodbye to Sam before you go?”

  “I’ve already told him goodbye. And I just looked in on Abbie. I’d better go. My parents are anxious to get to the airport.”

  “I’ll take good care of your children.” “I know you will.” He brushed a kiss against her cheek. “When I get back, we’re going to have that talk. And this time you’re going to listen.”

  Her heart was in her throat when she watched him pick up the suitcase he’d had waiting by the door and let himself out. She couldn’t help being aware that he had turned to her in his time of need. He had trusted her with his children. She would have to give careful thought to what that meant.

  She had never even been in his home before, she suddenly realized, turning to look at the room around her. It didn’t take her long to find Sam’s room. The door was open and Sam was on the bed, holding a stuffed monkey and looking at a picture book. He looked up without smiling. “Is
my daddy gone?”

  “Yes. He’s gone to take care of your uncle Trent.” She sat lightly on the edge of the bed, facing him. “He’ll be back as soon as he can.”

  The boy’s lip quivered. “My mommy didn’t come back.”

  His barely audible murmur broke her heart. “Your daddy will come back, Sam. I’m sure of it.”

  He seemed to take reassurance from her promise.

  “In the meantime,” she added bracingly, “you and I are going to take care of Abbie. D’you think we can handle that?”

  Straightening his narrow little shoulders, he nodded. “I’ll help you,” he assured her. “I know what to do.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “Because I’m new at this.”

  A bit tentatively, Sam set the book aside and moved closer to Jamie. She reached out to him, and he burrowed himself into her arms. Holding him close, she rested her cheek on his soft blond hair and felt herself fall helplessly in love all over again.

  TREVOR’S HOUSE was quiet when he entered it five days later. He was home several hours before he’d planned to be, since he’d managed to catch an earlier flight than he’d expected. He had looked forward to being greeted by Jamie and the children and was disappointed that they weren’t here.

  Running a weary hand through his hair, he wandered into the kitchen. Funny how he could almost feel Jamie’s presence in his home, even though she wasn’t here at the moment. During the hellish days that had just passed, he had derived comfort from imagining her here. And he had decided then that he would do everything in his power to put things right between him. He wanted her, and he needed her. Come hell or high water, he was going to get her back.

  He was ready to take the risk of loving her.

  There was a note on the refrigerator, he observed immediately. Only one word was written on it, in bold letters, in red crayon: Pool.

  She had left him a message, he thought with a faint smile. Just in case he came early. Jamie Flaherty’s own special brand of optimism. Only lately had he realized how much he had grown to depend on it.