Naked Hope (14 page)

Jill walked at a more leisurely pace, but soon became disoriented. “Lost in the Fairfield estate,” she muttered, and pushed through a door into some sort of study.

A man sat at a monumentally large desk, his back to the door.

She stopped short and smothered an involuntary gasp.
Definitely a wrong turn
.

Unaware of her, the man shifted the phone to his other ear.

She took a step backward.

“Excellent news, Roberts. You did a fine job handling things. My granddaughter belongs in that program. Oh, say, what about that woman, Cole somebody? What are we doing about her?”

Jill froze, her hand tightening on the doorknob.

“Really, is that wise?” This time the pause was much longer. “I see. All right, if you say Dr. Cole is that good, I’ll take your word for it. My son certainly thinks so but if she’s going to be trouble…”

The man paused again, then blustered, “No, no. No bother at all. Good of you to call. Oh, and that was an excellent touch, having Chapman give my son the good news. That way he won't suspect we—what’s that, Roberts? Oh, hang the rules and your conscience. I tell you, if my son thinks the child can handle it, then she can. This won’t mean anything to you, but a long time ago I thought my son’s dream of becoming a musician was foolish. One of the few times I’ve been that wrong. Almost cost him his future. So if he says my granddaughter can do this, then you can be sure I’m doing everything in my power to see that she gets the chance.”

He cocked his head. “Yes, yes. Baines will send a check by messenger first thing in the morning. And Roberts—I intend to be very generous.” He gave a hearty chuckle and hung up the phone.

Jill stepped forward, dug her toes into the plush carpet, and waited.

The man whirled.

Sixtyish with craggy, deep-set features that in no way resembled Gavin. She stared into the unflinching eyes of Lawrence Fairfield.

He leaned back. “Well, well, who have we here?”

Jill lifted her chin. “Jillian Cole.”

His gaze flickered, indicating only the slightest surprise.

A good poker player.

He examined the back of his hand, and rocked back and forth in his chair. Finally, he said, “Well, Dr. Cole, you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I certainly do,” she agreed. “Frankly, this is the first time since meeting your family I’ve had any advantage.”

Lawrence chuckled.

His wary gaze communicated an uneasiness. “So you went to the board and forced Olivia’s enrollment, not Gavin??”

His gaze wavered and his mouth tightened. “Does it matter?”

Jill eased into one of the chairs facing the imposing Louis XV desk. “A great deal, yes.”

Lawrence leaned his elbows against the desk and rasped out, “You as good as they say?”

Jill almost smiled. “Some think I’m among the very best.”

“And why do they say that?” His gaze scoured her.

Jill folded her hands. This time she did smile. “You would have to ask them.”

Lawrence glared, his eyes bulged. “Young lady, I’m asking you. This is your chance to convince me. Speak up.”

The idea of him bullying her into defending her expertise turned her smile into a grin. She crossed her arms. “Pass.”Jill smiled and waited.

“Pass?” Lawrence pushed back his chair. “I’m giving you a chance here to speak up for yourself.”

Jill leaned forward. “Mr. Fairfield, you may take me, or leave me. Either way, your opinion of me won’t change based on anything I might say to you, am I right?” She rapped her knuckles on the desk. “So, I’ll pass.”

Lawrence leaned his chin into his hand and stared through squinted eyes. “You’ll help my granddaughter?”

Jill stood. “I will, yes. However, a great deal of Olivia’s recovery is contingent upon your son.”

“Nonsense.” Lawrence blustered.

“You must think so, or I believe you wouldn’t have interfered. Tell me, does Gavin know you bribed the board?”

Lawrence scowled. “You planning to tell him?”

Jill considered his question. “That would be an ill-advised course of action. Olivia needs her family working together to support her, and I’m not convinced Gavin would appreciate your interference. So, no, I don’t think I will.”

Easing back in his chair, Lawrence let out his breath. “An excellent decision.”

For a good poker player, he was doing a poor job of hiding his smirk. Jill crossed her arms and rocked back and forth on her toes. “In fact, that pleasure belongs to you.”

A red flush spread up Lawrence’s neck and across his face. “What?”

“I’ll let
you
tell him, Mr. Fairfield. Whenever you feel the time is right.”

Chapter Eleven

“I found this young lady wandering our home, lost,” Lawrence announced as they entered the kitchen.

Jill broke into a smile as Lawrence captured her hand and held it up for all to see.

“I wondered where you were,” Gavin said, untying a white apron splattered with rocky road, strawberry revel, and mint chocolate chip ice cream. He frowned at his father, extricated Jill’s hand from the older man’s grasp, walked behind Jill, and looped the spattered apron over her head. “Latecomers scoop their own ice cream. House rules,” he murmured into her ear, twisting the apron ties until he cradled her waist, and knotted them in front. “You’ll need this,” he added, placing the ice cream scoop into her palm.

But Lawrence rolled up his sleeves, snatched the scoop, and dug in bailing out seconds for Olivia, giant mounds for Jill, and some for himself before he could be convinced to retire the scoop.

Edith, who had temporary custody of Wonder while Olivia ate her ice cream, caught Jill’s eye and mouthed a silent, “Thank you.”

After Gavin put a sleepy Olivia to bed, he joined Jill in the great room and dropped a rose-colored Pashmina onto her shoulders. “I thought you might like a walk in the gardens before I drive you home. You haven’t had a chance to see them.”

Her eyes widened and she glanced toward the window. “But it’s dark.”

He took her hand. “Don’t worry about a thing. You have me.”

In the garden, Jill caught the scent of amaryllis and freesia as they walked hand-in-hand.

“Listen, can you hear it?”

Jill listened, not sure what he wanted her to hear, aware of how right being near him felt.

“The stars.” He pointed to the night sky. “They make their own music.”

Jill studied the starscape, able to make out the Big Dipper and the constellation of Cassiopeia, but the music he spoke of eluded her. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rocked her in a slow dance.

“One night when I was sixteen, I didn’t come home until morning. My folks were furious and sick with worry.”

When he spoke, his abdomen swelled and contracted against her back. “And how long ago was that?” Jill teased.

“Oh, about twenty-two years ago,” he replied.

Jill loved the resonance in his voice.

“It took awhile but they finally quieted enough for me to show them what I'd been doing.”

“Which was?” Her question eased across the non-existent distance between them. She could feel the ruff of his day-old beard on her cheek, and smell the musk of his body.

“Writing my first sonata. I called it
Kismet
.” His lips grazed her ear.

She watched Jupiter blink at a riotous rate and closed her eyes a second time, hoping to feel Jupiter’s rhythm and hear the music. But instead of music, she heard the uneven pulls of Gavin’s breath, coupled with the warmth of his body, wild in the knowledge they were alone together.

Gavin twirled her in his arms, crushing her against him. “Jillian,” he breathed, into the corner of her mouth. He kissed her, taking an experimental taste. His hands locked into her long hair. “My God, Jillian,” he murmured, plundering her mouth.

Her knees buckled. She swayed away, breaking the kiss.

“No.” Gavin caught her and pinned her against a tree with her feet dangling inches above ground. He bent his head teasing at her lower lip. When he set her down, he took a half step back. But his hands still rested against the curve of her waist.

“You seem to have taken us all by storm—every last one of us.”

His deep voice made her think of smoky jazz. “Have I?”

Into her hair, he murmured, “Count on it, love.”

****

An hour later, they were almost home when he reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. “Tired?”

She sighed. “It’s been a long day.”

He stopped in front of her loft and turned off the ignition. “I know it’s late, but while you’ve been sleeping on my shoulder, I’ve been thinking—planning.”

“You think I was sleeping?” She tried to sound indignant but could hardly keep her eyes open.

“You and I have been on a collision course since the first moment we met,” he said,

The intensity behind his statement was unmistakable. “I’m pretty sure you don’t remember the first time we met,” she volleyed, attempting to keep things light.

He swept her into his arms. “Lerner Hall. You wanted me to sign something.”

“My drop/add form.” She smiled, pleased that he remembered.

“I remember thinking what a distraction you would some day be.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Some day?”

He kissed her hair. “My point is, for the first time, there are no obstacles between us.”

No obstacles?
She moved just enough to look into his eyes. “I can think of any number of obstacles, Gavin.”

He brushed the hair from her face. “Spend the weekend with me. We could get out tomorrow ahead of the Labor Day rush. Come away, Jillian.”

When she didn’t answer, he rushed on. “I know a place, about three hours from here. There are plenty of bedrooms. You can have your own if that’s your preference. I don’t want to crowd you. I just want to spend time together. If we don’t act now, I have this feeling that when the term starts you’ll go so deep into your research, I won’t reach you.”

Jill braced an elbow against the door attempting to sort through the collision of thought and emotion. “Olivia is your focus right now. Your only priority, I believe you said.” His winsome smile stole her breath away.

“I could focus more easily on Olivia if you and I spent the long weekend together first, getting to know each other better. She’s in good hands. Her grandparents have a great weekend planned.”

“Her grandparents? Not you?”

He leaned toward her and smoothed an eyebrow with his thumb. “You do jump to conclusions, don’t you? I would have planned something except I was to be away this weekend.” His jaw ticked. “But the concert cancelled.”

“Yes, but you are here, and she needs your support,” Jill argued.

“She has it. She always has it,” he agreed.

Jill straightened. “Let me sleep on it, Gavin.”

His eyes dimmed. “Of course. Dream sweet, Jillian.”

The next morning, he answered on the first ring, sounding sleepy, the sky still gray with the last vestiges of night. “Did I wake you?” she asked.

“If this is a dream, then no.”

His throaty chuckle warmed her. She pushed ahead before she lost her nerve. “I know it’s early, but if you still feel like

”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“No way you can be here in an hour,” she teased. “You’re not even up yet.”

“Ahhhh, now you see why we need to spend time together. You don’t know me well at all. Believe me, if I want to, I can be there in under an hour.”

Jill switched the phone to her other ear. “Well, slow down there, cowboy because no way will I be ready that fast. I have to shower and pack and do the things women do

”

“Hmmmmm. I had you pegged for the low-maintenance type.”

Jill gave a low chuckle and returned his banter. “Well, that’s just silly. Imagine you buying in to the low-maintenance myth.”

His laughter vibrated through the phone. “I’ll be there in forty-five minutes. Take your time. If you’re not ready, I’ll just hang with Sydney and Wonder, and try to stay out of your way.”

“You said this place is about a three-hour drive. In what direction?”

“Oh, no. You’re not getting that out of me. The location is a surprise.”

“I see. Well, here’s the problem. Going in one direction, the temperature could be as much as twenty degrees warmer than in the other. How will I know what to pack?”

“Just bring it all.”

The phone was ringing as she got out of the shower. She ran dripping across the bathroom tile into her bedroom and vaulted onto her bed to retrieve her phone from the docking station.

“Don’t eat breakfast. I’m stopping for coffee and scones. Have you had coffee yet? Are you a coffee drinker?”

She stretched her legs, checking for stray hairs. “Okay, I won’t eat breakfast. No, I haven’t had my coffee yet. Yes, I’m an avid coffee drinker.”

“Any special requests for your coffee?”

“Yes, I’d like a
grande
decaf double tall non-fat extra-dry
cappuccino
with an extra shot of non-fat.”

He hesitated. “This is about my high maintenance comment, isn’t it?”

Jill caught sight of herself in the mirror, naked and dripping into the phone with effervescent eyes and grinned. “If our goal is to get to know each other, it’s important you understand I like my coffee a certain way.”

He chuckled. “Be there in fifteen.”

Eleven minutes later, the doorbell rang. Her long hair still damp, she’d just finished applying body moisturizer and hadn’t applied a speck of make-up yet. She traded in her towel for jeans and a T-shirt, and went to answer the door.

Gavin looked thirty-seven going on seventeen standing on her doorstep in a navy blue T-shirt and faded jeans. Waiting. Hopeful. Mischievous. And more than a handful.

He burst through the door the moment she opened it and made a bee-line for the kitchen where he unloaded an over-stuffed bag and a cardboard carrier from the local coffeehouse with half a dozen coffees. She laughed and turned away, hoping to at least put on some mascara before he got a good look at her.

But he caught her hand and twirled her around. “Come here, you.” He placed her palms on his shoulders, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Mmmm, you smell good.”