by Sally Falcon
Jessie told Gina as quickly and as succinctly as possible everything that had taken place—well, almost everything. She couldn’t quite bring herself to talk about the farewell kiss. That incident was still haunting her dreams.
“You mean you tossed aside a piece of prime beefcake like Trevor Planchet for this reject lawyer?”
“How did you ever marry someone as nice as Jeff? By rights you deserve some airhead who postures in front of a mirror twenty-four hours a day,” Jessie exclaimed, wondering if she was ever going to convince Gina that she was right about her ideal husband. “Appearances aren’t everything.”
“And every handsome man with a charming smile isn’t a reprobate. We both agree your father was a suave good-for-nothing that left your mama and his family to shift for themselves,” Gina stated without rancor as a long-time friend. “Do you think you’ll be able to trust any of your candidates enough to marry one of them? There’s no guarantee when it comes to relationships.”
“I won’t know until I find the right candidate, but I’m making sure the odds are much better by looking for a man who understands responsibility.” She glanced at the television screen again just as the camera pulled back to show the entire news team as the credits rolled. The Four-Ts, as Gina had dubbed them, were doing happy talk as the theme music swelled. “I don’t think Trevor Planchet has a responsible bone in his body. Not the man who disrupted our meeting this morning as a ploy to dismiss his tardiness, or the man who kissed—”
“He kissed you? Sometimes I have the juvenile urge to give you a good swift kick in the tush.” She swung her feet to the floor, sitting up almost as primly as Jessie. “Is there any more that you’ve been too scared to tell me about Trevor Planchet?”
“Scared? You do have a vivid imagination at times.” Jessie tried to ignore the shiver that skated down her spine. Was she afraid to talk about Trevor? Certainly not. She didn’t mention him before today because she knew that Gina would exaggerate everything totally out of proportion. Hadn’t Gina dressed her up in that outlandish outfit because of some wild romantic thought that Jessie might find, what was it Gina had said earlier, a piece of prime beefcake to sweep her off her feet?
Jessie knew better. That only happened in books and the movies. In real life, you had to worry about getting food on the table, mortgage payments, and new pairs of shoes for the kids. Those things weren’t paid for by a man who dressed up in rabbit ears, even if he did call her his Lady of the Legs, she decided, unconsciously studying her ankle as she moved her foot back and forth.
Chapter Three
“Can I interest you in watching me eat some humble pie?”
Jessie swayed for a moment near the top of the stepladder at the sound of Trevor’s voice from close to her feet. She juggled the cumbersome book of wallpaper samples in her hands for a moment before shoving it back on the shelf. Maybe this was another of her recurring nightmares from the past two days. 0r maybe not, she admitted reluctantly and looked down.
He was leaning against the metal shelving lining the other side of the storage area. For a minute she wondered if the somber man regarding her was the same Trevor Planchet who’d been disturbing her peace of mind for almost two weeks. He seemed to have changed personalities with his solemn older brother, even dressing more conservatively in a tattersall plaid shirt and gray slacks. This certainly wasn’t the grinning satyr that had been disturbing her dreams.
“How did you get back here?” Her tone was sufficiently neutral, she decided, since his dour expression made her uneasy. Keeping a wary eye on him she stepped carefully down the three steps to the carpeted floor. A ladder was hard enough to maneuver in her teal jersey sheath without Trevor watching her descent. This wasn’t the time to do something absurd, like fall at his feet.
“Your partner said you were back here working on the inventory.” He didn’t move from his negligent position, almost as if he was reluctant to startle her with any sudden movement. “I brought back your drawings and samples from Daddy’s office.”
“I see.” Of course, Gina had told him exactly where she was. Her romance-minded partner probably thought they would enact some scene out of a Doris Day movie. Jessie would lose her balance at Trevor’s first words, then he would catch her and hold her to his manly chest. Unfortunately, the silly idea brought to mind an accurate image of Trevor’s naked chest. She could feel a tingling sensation all the way down to her stockinged feet, making her wonder suddenly what the devil she’d done with her shoes.
“Look—”
“I have—”
Both of them broke off together, then waited. Neither seemed to know where to begin again. Trevor nodded his head in deference to her.
“Thank you for bringing back our materials. We’re getting ready for the spring samples to arrive, and I’m right in the middle of this inventory…” She let the words drift away for lack of anything else that wouldn’t sound impolite. By tactfully choosing her words she hoped to avoid any more of his histrionics.
“Would you have lunch with me? That’s really why I volunteered for messenger duty,” he explained, no trace of emotion in his tone or his expression. When Jessie started to form another excuse, he held up his hand. “I really would like to apologize for what happened at the meeting as well as at the Bushes’ party. Sometimes the Planchets get a little overdramatic without thinking about the consequences. I don’t seem to be able to carry it off with the same savoir faire as T.L. He’s called eccentric, and I’m labeled obnoxious.”
“An apology really isn’t necessary.” The last thing she wanted to do was spend time alone with Trevor. It would be total insanity. “These things happen and life goes on.”
“You probably think having lunch would be dangerous,” he continued, shifting his feet restlessly from side to side, unaware that he was mirroring her thoughts. “But I promise that I won’t do anything crazy, like burst into song or make rude noises.”
“Really, Trevor—”
“She’d love to go to lunch after being cooped up back in this dusty old storage room for hours,” Gina broke in, startling the two. She ignored Jessie’s fulminating glare and handed her her shoes before she continued. “A nice lunch would be perfect way to let Trevor apologize, wouldn’t it, Jessie? Didn’t I just say the other day that you don’t get out enough? The business is taking up too much of your free time.”
Jessie wanted to tell her partner exactly what she thought would be perfect while trying to maintain her dignity as she slipped into her cream-and-teal spectators. Then, as she straightened and noticed Trevor’s interested expression, decided against saying what was on her mind. She was at a loss as to how to avoid going to lunch with the man. Gina’s chatter made it clear that Trevor’s behavior on both occasions was general knowledge, so Jessie couldn’t act as if the incidents had been trivial.
“All right, lunch it is.” Her softly spoken words caught the others unaware, which gave Jessie a small sense of satisfaction. She would devise a suitable revenge for her manipulative friend later, when she had time to create something truly diabolical. “I’ll just get my purse and jacket. Where would you like to go, Trevor?”
“How about that little café down near the Old State House?” he asked as he followed her out of the storage room.
Jessie knew she was going to regret this, even without seeing the pleased smiles on Trevor’s and Gina’s faces as they hovered by her desk.
“Now, see, that wasn’t so bad.” Trevor leaned back in his chair as the waiter cleared away their dishes. Lunch had gone fairly well, even if he did think so himself. Over spinach salads and shrimp bisque soup, they’d talked amicably about the upcoming election as well as other current events. “You didn’t have to be afraid of coming out with me.”
He knew he’d said the wrong thing before the words were even out of his mouth. Helplessly he watched Jessie’s eyes flash blue fire in irritation, though she continued to sip her iced tea. His entire body tensed as she very carefully placed the gla
ss back on the salmon-colored linen tablecloth. Damn, she was stunning when she was angry, her eyes sparkling and a flush coloring her porcelain skin.
“Look, that’s not what—”
“Trevor, I wasn’t afraid to come to lunch with you.” Her words were softly spoken and apparently selected with great care. He watched in fascination as she wet her lips before continuing. “I don’t think we have very much in common. Your personality doesn’t mesh, well with mine. We’re as different as night and day. That’s all.”
That wasn’t all, or she wouldn’t be trying to control her temper. Her willowy body was perfectly stiff, posture perfect. She couldn’t keep her fingers from straightening the silverware or from making sure an errant strand of raven hair hadn’t escaped her French plait, just as she had done when they first sat down. This cool and competent lady wasn’t ruffled when he’d disrupted her business meeting or when faced with her lunkhead date’s officious manner. Yet with him she was always on guard, as if keeping a more passionate side of her nature under control. Was that what continued to captivate him?
Damned if he wasn’t going to find out, no matter what the consequences. He’d been playing tame eunuch for two hours for nothing. Getting Jessie riled and off balance was the key.
“So I take it your deadwood escort at the Bushes’ party is your type,” he blurted out, sitting forward to lean his forearms on the table. “I would think a stunning woman like you could do much better. What was his name? Kirby, Conrad?”
“Tr—Trevor, who I date really isn’t important.” Her cheeks were turning a deeper shape of pink, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s all really a matter of personal taste. I wouldn’t think of questioning you about your private life.”
“But I find this interesting,” he said, especially that you can’t remember his name, either, he finished silently, fighting a smug smile. Apparently something, or someone, had erased the jerk from her memory. He also noted with satisfaction that she hadn’t corrected his description of the man.
“He—he was simply a convenient escort for the occasion,” she finally managed, her agitation over the matter out of proportion. She was as much aware of it as he was. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said simply as the waiter handed him his credit card and receipt.
“Thank you for lunch, Trevor. I think this has been a suitable apology for our earlier mishaps. Now I must return to the office.” Jessie had her hands primly folded over her discarded napkin, which she had neatly creased back into its original shape.
He wondered if she knew she started talking like Queen Victoria when she was upset. Did she stay that prim and proper when she was making love? A truly interesting concept, he decided, rising to his feet to follow her out of the restaurant and out onto the sidewalk.
“You don’t have to walk me back to the office. It’s only a few blocks from here.” Jessie looked as if she was prepared to run the entire way if necessary.
“Nonsense, Jessie.” He cupped her elbow with the proper degree of pressure, not too impersonal but enough to keep her at his side as he guided her down the busy thoroughfare. “I would be drummed out of the Southern gentlemen’s club if I didn’t escort a lady to her door. This may be the age of the independent woman, but that doesn’t mean courtesy has to be thrown out the window. Don’t you agree?”
He couldn’t clearly interpret the message from her grinding teeth, but he was sure if she managed a verbal answer it would be negative. Unfortunately, for her, the same good manners he used in his defense were working against her. She had to let him walk her back to her office, but apparently she didn’t have to talk to him. That didn’t bother Trevor. He kept up a steady commentary about the current weather, forecasting the next rainfall.
“Thank you again, Trevor.” She ground out the words from behind a plastic smile, her right foot poised on the first step into the building.
Trevor slid his hand down from her elbow to capture her hand. She was caught, unless she wanted to play an undignified tug-of-war in front of the other pedestrians returning from lunch. He placed his index finger against her lips before she had a chance to speak.
“I think it’s only fair to tell you that I usually get what I want, Jessie. I also love a challenge.” He accentuated his meaning by gently tugging on her hand. That was all it took to tumble her into his arms.
Her lips tasted sweeter than he remembered, but he didn’t allow himself to linger. If he did, he’d have her down on the pavement in a matter of minutes. He wanted to entice Jessie, not get her arrested for indecent exposure.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around and gave her a mild nudge up the steps toward the door of the building. He knew he had to make a clean getaway before his delightful Jessie could retaliate. He’d started the day planning to apologize for one kiss, now he had stolen his second. But this time he wasn’t a damn bit sorry. Not after he’d seen the slumberous look in Jessie’s beautiful eyes before he’d turned away.
All he had to do now was figure out his next step.
Jessie stared moodily at the silk-screened print of San Francisco row houses behind her desk. Usually, dreaming about owning and decorating her own Victorian house soothed her, but not today. The image of Trevor’s smiling face just before he left her an hour ago kept superimposing itself over the buildings.
Life just wasn’t fair, she decided. Why did all the good-looking rogues have to be irresponsible and capricious? Was it genetic?
Muted chimes announced that someone had walked through the front door, and she swung her chair around to face her desk.
“Mmm, it doesn’t look like lunch went very well.”
Jessie returned her partner’s frown with one of her own. “It depends on your point of view.”
“Ohh, judging from your scowl, Trevor must have had a fantastic time,” Gina exclaimed, breaking into a smile. Then she seemed to remember that she was supposed to be sympathetic to her friend’s plight. “Want to tell me all about it? Cry on Gina’s shoulder?”
“I liked your natural reaction better. You need to work on the compassionate care-giver persona for another year or so to be convincing.” She propped her chin in her hand to prepare for the barrage of questions that were sure to come.
“I have a very empathetic nature,” Gina assured her, trying to maintain her solemn demeanor and failing miserably. The laughter trembling on her lips burst forth. “Just don’t tell anyone because it’s buried way deep inside. You really can’t expect me to be a hypocrite about Trevor. You know exactly what I think on the matter.”
“Yes, I know.” She liked her friend just the way she was, except when her romantic inclinations overcame her usual pragmatic, straight-to-the-point nature. “I guess you’re going to want a play-by-play before I’ll be able to get any work done on the estimate for Garrison’s tax office.”
Gina suddenly found her fingernails fascinating. She seemed preoccupied with checking her cuticles, and it sent a chill of apprehension down Jessie’s spine. Biting her lip, she waited for what her partner was going to say.
“Not if it’s any more interesting than a certain tender farewell, right in front of God and everybody.” She continued to hold out her hand, but Jessie could see her looking surreptitiously through her eyelashes.
“Harvey in the print shop on the first floor.” In her mind’s eye, Jessie could picture the biggest gossip on the block watching the whole episode. The entire south corner of the building was plate glass, which gave Harvey Milsap a perfect view of everything that happened on two sides of the office building. He was more reliable than reading the news, since he even reported what wasn’t fit to print.
“Harvey said it was simply stunning, like a Joan Crawford or Bette Davis melodrama. It sent chills down his spine. Of course, Harvey just loves a forceful man.” Gina looked thoughtful for a moment as she eyed Jessie’s teal-and-cream herringbone jacket. “Maybe you should get rid of those shoulder pads.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Jessie knew better, but thought she would ask anyway.
“When are you going to have a real date with Trevor?”
“He didn’t ask me out.” Jessie had the satisfaction of saying it, only she wasn’t happy about the feeling of chagrin that returned as she admitted it. It was stupid, but she’d felt disappointed that he hadn’t asked for a date after that kiss.
Telling herself that she was disappointed simply because she hadn’t had the pleasure of turning him down didn’t work. That kiss had been more than a simple good-bye. Her legs had barely carried her up the three steps to the entrance and through the door. Thankfully he hadn’t seen her slump against the wall to regain her composure just after she’d entered the building.
“How odd,” Gina murmured absently, undoubtedly trying to figure out an answer to the puzzle. She couldn’t possibly be reading Jessie’s mind.
“I keep telling you that rogues like Trevor defy logic, or at least they think they do.” Jessie leaned back in her chair, feeling secure in her knowledge of this particular subject.
“But you understand them?” The other woman looked skeptical but anxious to hear what she had to say.
“Just a little. They live by their own rules. Rule number one is their own pleasure. That’s the prime directive and takes precedence over everything else.”
“Wouldn’t a date be pleasurable?”
“Not if he could derive more pleasure by making the lady overly anxious for his company. It’s kind of a Big-Man-on-Campus philosophy,” she explained, warming to her subject. “He knows he’s charming and in demand, so he lets the victim feel privileged to be in his company. To increase the victim’s feeling of importance, he plays hard to get. Ergo, he attains more pleasure by feeling twice as worshiped.”
“I don’t believe this.” Gina planted her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot. “I’m actually listening to some of that pop-psychology you’ve been inhaling to create Robo-husband, aren’t I?”