A Prince for Jenny (7 page)

"Look at me, Daniel. I'm really driving."

"You're really driving, Jenny, and doing a hell of a job too."

She accelerated some more. The wind sang in her ears and whipped her hair.

"Yep. I'm doing one hell of a job." She laughed with the sheer wonder of it all. "Whoops ... Daniel. The curve."

"Turn the car ..." She spun the wheel. "The other way... that's right." He sat there as calmly as if she were one of those great racecar drivers she'd seen on television.

"I could drive forever."

"You can drive as long as you want"

"Well, almost forever. I'm getting hungry."

"Then let's find that tree you talked about."

Daniel found the biggest tree beside the river. It was a mammoth hundred-year-old oak with strong spreading branches that provided shade for them and shelter for a family of gray squirrels and a large collection of birds. Jenny noted each tree dweller with wonder and delight. The Tennessee River, rolling along at the base of the bluff and singing its timeless song, was a special source of joy for her. Even the dappled patterns of sunlight and shadow underneath the tree delighted her.

Daniel realized that the thing he loved most about Jenny was that she didn't view the world as ordinary mortals did: She saw with her heart. In fashioning her, God had filtered out the darkness—the violence, the hatred, the jealousy—and left only the light. Jenny's light touched even the lowliest creature and transformed it to a thing of beauty.

With her, Daniel felt the greening and blooming of his soul.

He knelt at her feet and took her hand. "Teach me, Jenny. Teach me to see with my heart."

"You already see with your heart, Daniel.... You saw me." She touched his chest then pointed to her own.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Jenny."

"Truly?"

"Truly."

At that precise moment, a shaft of sunlight pierced the thick branches and touched Jenny's hair and her face. Crowned with gold, she looked as if she had come from another world, his beautiful innocent princess.

His feelings for her were so powerful that they went beyond love, so powerful that they would not be denied. Neither the saints in heaven nor the hounds of hell could have kept him from touching her face.

Her skin was soft, silky, her face perfectly fashioned for the shape of his cupped hands. Joy filled him, threatened to overflow.

Unconsciously Jenny's tongue flicked out and wet her lips. Dew on rose petals. With one finger he gently traced the heart shape of her mouth.

A small sigh escaped her, and she closed her eyes. She was so close, so sweet. Daniel was tempted almost beyond endurance. He leaned down until his lips were only a whisper away from hers. The scent of flowers clung to her skin and wafted from her hair.

One small taste. That's all he'd take. One small, sweet devastating taste of her tempting lips.

Jenny's lids fluttered open, and she held Daniel in silent, solemn regard. Spellbound,

breathless, they watched each other... and waited.

There was not a sound, not even the whisper of flight as a cardinal left the tree branch and winged his way upward. One of his feathers floated downward and landed in Jenny's lap. It lay against her white skirt like a scarlet accusation.

Like a man waking from a dream, Daniel slowly released Jenny. What had he been thinking of? He'd almost defiled an angel.

 "Daniel... I thought you were going to kiss me."

"I almost did, Jenny. I apologize."

"Please don't apologize." Jenny thought her heart would break. "I understand."

"It's not that I don't want to kiss you ..."

"You want to kiss me?"

"Yes. I've wanted to from the first moment I saw you."

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Daniel wanted to kiss her. Joy flooded her soul, and hard on its heels, sadness.

"I understand. Truly I do." She picked up the lovely scarlet feather and held it to her cheek. It was her consolation prize. "I just wish ..." She let her voice trail off. Gwendolyn used to say,
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride
.

"You wish what, Jenny?"

"Sometimes I wish I could have one kiss ... a small one ... so I'd know what it's like."

"You've never been kissed?"

"Do kisses from family count?"

"No."

"Then, no ... never."

Daniel's hands trembled as he cupped her face.

"Just a small kiss, Jenny... between friends."

"What joy, Daniel!"

Her eyes were luminous and so blue that, bending closer, he felt as if he had been sucked into their center. He felt the whisper of her warm breath against his cheek and the stirring of her silky hair against his fingertips. Her lips were close now, soft and innocent, so very innocent.

His mouth closed over hers slowly, tenderly. God, he prayed. God, give me strength to kiss her once, then turn away.

She put her arms around his neck and drew him closer. When her lips moved under his, sweet and sure, he knew that a just God had given womanly instincts even to Jenny, His special child.

Light exploded through him, and a feeling of such exquisite joy that he felt the tears wet upon his face. Every nerve ending in his body tingled. He wanted to deepen the kiss, to plunge his tongue into the warm, moist recesses of her mouth and taste her fully, completely. He wanted to ease his ache by fitting her body close to his. He wanted to feel the sweet heat between her thighs and to know the tender swelling of her breasts.

Beast that he was, he wanted to lower her to the ground and teach her the ways of a man and a woman. He could almost feel the satin sheath of her virgin flesh as it closed around him. The agony of wanting her and knowing he could never have her was so great that he cried out.

Alarmed, Jenny pulled back.

"Daniel, did I do something wrong?"

He pulled her into his arms and cradled her tenderly against his chest.

"No, Jenny ... My darling.. .my love. You did everything right. You're perfect."

Sighing, she leaned against him.

"I didn't know kissing would feel like falling," she said.

"Did you feel as if you were falling?"

"Yes. Part of the time. Then I felt as if I were flying." She tipped her head back so she could look into his eyes. "My heart flew, Daniel."

"So did mine."

She traced his mouth with her fingertips. Daniel felt as if he'd been touched by angels.

"The day I first saw you, I dreamed about kissing these lips.... You've made my dreams come true, Daniel."

How could he tell her that she'd made his come true as well? How could he tell her without raising impossible hopes?

Jenny. Jenny
.

The feel of her hands upon his lips sank into his very soul. Such a tender touch. He would remember it always, remember and cherish. Pulling her into the circle of his arms, he held her close. She leaned her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Her trust was both blessing and burden. He didn't know if he had the strength to endure it.

"Daniel..." Jenny pulled back and grinned up at him in an impish way. "Do you want to chase sunbeams?"

"I've never chased sunbeams."

"I'll teach you." She took his hand and led him into the sunlight. "Do you want to sneak up on them, or do you want to be bold?"

"Let's be bold, Jenny."

They raced about, reaching up toward the sunlight, laughing as the sunbeams touched their hands, then filtered through their fingers. Daniel had not known such a carefree moment since he was a boy.

"I almost got one, Jenny." He held his hands out, cupped, to show her how he had almost trapped the sunshine.

"Try with your tongue ... like this." Jenny stuck her tongue out and tipped her face toward the sun. "Hmmm, delicious."

"Save one for me."

With the sunlight bearing down upon his face and Jenny at his side laughing, Daniel felt as if he'd slipped backward into a time before the existence of evil. He was the first man, with Jenny as his Eve, and this happy place beside the river was their Garden of Eden.

"I wish I never had to leave," Jenny said when they were too tired to chase any more sunbeams and were packing the remains of their picnic into the basket.

"We'll have many picnics, Jenny."

"Truly?"

"Truly," he said, really believing they would.

 o0o

He drove home slowly, stopping once to purchase a peace offering for Gwendolyn. She was waiting for them on the front porch, her face bunched up with worry.

"Jenny!" She lumbered down the porch steps and wrapped Jenny in her large embrace. "Thank heavens you're safe." She scowled at Daniel.

"Didn't Helen call you?" he asked.

"Yes ... Jenny, honey, why don't you take the picnic basket inside?"

" 'Bye, Daniel." Jenny put her hand briefly on his cheek. A touch of heaven. "Thank you ... for everything." A lovely blush colored her cheeks.

Daniel could hardly bear to let her go. He took her hand and caressed the long, slim fingers. "I'll never forget today, Jenny."

Gwendolyn cleared her throat loudly to show what she thought of their leave-taking.

Jenny gave him a conspirator's grin, and he winked at her. When she carried her picnic basket into the house, she was humming.

Gwendolyn waited until the sound of Jenny's voice faded before she had her say.

"Your message came too late. When I woke up and found her missing, I called Jake and he nearly went wild. It wasn't until after he left that I saw the message light on the answering machine."

The situation was Daniel's worst nightmare come true.

"You've every right to be angry. I should have brought her home first to make certain that no one would be worried."

"First?"

"If looks could kill, I'd be dead."

"Wait till Jake Townsend gets through with you."

"Gwendolyn, I'm not the enemy. I would never do anything to hurt Jenny." Suddenly, remembering the peace offering, he held it out.

Gwendolyn looked at the hat. It was one she'd always wanted, a genuine Panama, handwoven in Ecuador, the kind she could wear in Florida when she retired and had nothing to do but lie in the sun all day like a sausage, frying herself.

"I won't be taking bribes," she said.

"It's not a bribe; it's a gift." He laid the hat on the front porch.

"I won't be wearing it." Her fire suddenly gone, Gwendolyn sank into the rocking chair and wiped a tear from her eye with the hem of her painter's shirt.

"When you brought her that music box and I saw the two of you together ..." She heaved a big sigh then wiped another tear. "Oh, Lordy, I don't know what to believe anymore."

Daniel knelt beside her on the wooden porch floor and took her hands. "I want what's best for her too. Trust me, Gwendolyn."

"Sometimes I want to." She shook her hands loose from his then gave him a wry grin. "Lordy, how you do turn an old woman's head. No wonder Jenny's in love with you."

Daniel walked to the edge of the porch, leaned against the railing, and studied the front yard. Flowers of every kind were in bloom, and the trees were alive with birdsong. Such a peaceful place. A haven for Jenny. What right did he have to disrupt her fife?

"You know that, don't you, Daniel?"

"Yes."

"How are you going to handle it?"

It was a question he'd wrestled with almost from the moment he'd met her.

He turned back to Gwendolyn. "I honestly don't know."

The old porch floor creaked as Gwendolyn left the rocking chair and came to stand beside him. "Maybe you ought to find out." Her face softened as she reached up to pat his cheek. Then she drew herself up and scowled at him. "And don't you be thinking I'm a soft touch, because I'm tough as an old bulldog and twice as mean." She marched toward the front door, then came back to pick up her hat. "And don't you think I'm fixing to wear this hat."

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing."

"Good."

Daniel let her have the last word, then got into his car and drove back to Sullivan Enterprises. Although it was thirty minutes after closing time, the lights were still on in his office.

 Upstairs, Helen met him at the door.

"I thought I told you to take the rest of the day off."

"You have a visitor."

He didn't have to be told; he knew. "Jake Townsend?" Helen nodded, too awestruck to do more. "Where is he?"

"In your office. I told him I didn't know if you'd be back, but he said you would, said something about having written the book on obsession. I didn't dare tell him the offices closed at five." Her hands fluttered anxiously over the top of her desk. Finally she latched onto her steno pad and clutched it to her chest. "Shall I go in with you?"

"No, Helen. Go home. I'll handle this alone." She gathered her purse and her umbrella. Rain or shine, Helen always carried an umbrella. At the door, she turned for one last look. Daniel smiled at her. "Thank you, Helen. You did the right thing."

The door closed behind her, and Daniel squared his shoulders. It was time to face Jake Townsend. He knew how the biblical Daniel must have felt when he faced the den of lions.

Chapter Six

Jake Townsend was a great lion of a man, as tall as Daniel himself and just as erect. He had a thick mane of hair that had once been very black but now had enough silver to be called salt-and-pepper, and his eyes were a pale, clear and riveting green. He didn't say a word when Daniel walked in, but leaned back in his chair and treated Daniel to the most intense scrutiny he'd ever endured.

Do I pass inspection?
he might have said to someone else, but he didn't dare say it to this man.

"Daniel Sullivan," Jake said. It was not a question.

"Yes." He offered his hand, and Jake took it. His handclasp was strong and firm. "Helen told me you were waiting. Can I get you a cup of coffee?

"No, thank you. This is not a social call."

Daniel sat in his desk chair, hoping the act of sitting behind his own desk in his own company would give him an advantage. It didn't. In Jake Townsend, he'd meet his match.