Stolen Kisses (15 page)

“Jessica, how can you say something like that?” Gina laid her hand over her heart to emphasize her innocence, a gesture very reminiscent of the man they were discussing.

“Now you can see the state he’s gotten me in. I’m imagining conspiracies all around me,” she admitted with a sigh. “I just hope I can last until Saturday. Of course, now that I have six rabbits’ feet, I should have good luck.”

“I think I’ll go make us some tea,” Gina announced hastily. “I think this is going to be a long afternoon.”

Jessie stepped down from the van on Saturday afternoon, ten minutes before the appointed time. Almost dispassionately, she noticed that her hands weren’t quite steady as she reached for her tote bag and the sample books. Uncertain about what lay ahead, Jessie lingered by the car to look at the outside of the house. The painters and roofer had been busy during the week, almost completing the exterior while she had been avoiding the house during the same time.

Trevor had an excellent sense of color, she decided judiciously. Although not showy in the true “Painted Lady” tradition, the house stood proudly among the surrounding oak trees. The body of the house had gone from a dilapidated grubby yellow to a stately grayish taupe, with the structural trim and windows in a creamy dark tan, and the lacework and roof cresting highlighted by a periwinkle-lavender blend. The new colors brought out the alternating textures of the shingles and the carved details of the Eastlake embellishments.

Unable to delay any longer, Jessie climbed the stairs to the porch, her footsteps seeming to echo ominously. Was she about to make an absolute fool of herself? It was too late to back out now. Fleetingly she wished she could muster the aggravation she’d felt a few days ago. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time. The front door was open, and he was sure to hear her approach through the flimsy screen.

“Jessie? I’m in the dining room,” Trevor called out as if he had read her mind.

Self-consciously she smoothed her hand over her hair, feeling vulnerable with it hanging loose around her shoulders. Were her moss-green slacks and maroon-and-green paisley blouse too casual? Should she have worn a dress instead? She knew she was being ridiculous as she stepped into the entry hall. What did her clothes matter, if she couldn’t think of anything to say?

She was brought up short by the furniture that cluttered the dining room. She glanced at the gleaming pieces, realizing this was the collection from the garage she’d inspected last week. Trevor was in the middle of the room, rubbing a cloth over a long rosewood table. From his tousled hair and the way his rust-colored shirt clung damply to his back, he’d been working for quite some time. When he saw her in the doorway, he straightened and leaned his hip against the edge of the table.

“There you are. I thought you got lost for a minute.”

“You’ve been busy this week.” Jessie said the first thing that came into her head, then cursed her hasty words. She meant busy working on the house. Would he think she was alluding to the rabbits instead?

“I thought you might want a better look at Aunt Beth’s furniture, and then we can discuss what else I need to buy.”

She felt silly standing in the doorway but didn’t know what else to do. “I hadn’t realized there was such a mix of styles.”

“Yeah, that’s where you’ll have to guide me,” he admitted. “I know what I like, not what it’s called. I figured with the leaves put in the table you could use it as a work area instead of scrambling around on the floor.”

“Let’s get started, then.” Jessie decided that work would keep her mind off the tautness of his shirt across his square shoulders and the way the soft denim of his jeans hugged his lean hips and waist. “From your initial instructions, I’ve made up two color schemes for each room and did some rough sketches of furniture arrangements. We have about a week to work out a final plan so I can order the wallpaper and curtains.”

“Meeting the deadline for the tours isn’t going to give you too much trouble, is it?” He moved to her side while she pulled her sketch pad and samples from her tote bag.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve tried to avoid materials that have to be custom-made.” She laid out the floor plan for the lower floor, then the sketches for each room. When Trevor moved closer, she nervously sought a diversion and reached for her pencils in the tote bag.

Her fingers were suddenly clumsy, unable to locate the pencil box quickly. Impatiently she upended the cloth bag, and the acrylic pencil box slipped out easily. “Since you said you preferred mixing contemporary and antique pieces, I’ve concentrated the brighter, stronger colors and patterns in the rugs and walls. Accent pieces will draw the visitors’ eyes to the proper focal points in the room.”

“Okay, let’s go ahead with these.” He quickly gathered up one sketch for each room.

Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she turned toward him to see what else he had to say. He stared back at her, as if he was deferring to her. “Trevor, you can’t just make a decision like that. You may hate it a few months from now.”

“Why?” His forehead furrowed into a confused frown. “You did all the preliminary work. I told you, I know what I like. I don’t like to complicate things, unless absolutely necessary. When I see something I like, I know instantly that’s what I want. There’s never been anything I’ve regretted later.”

She wasn’t sure they were still talking about her work. His eyes had darkened to a polished onyx color, his expression serious as he waited for her protest. “I see. I wish you would take a little more time to decide.”

“This is what I want. You have excellent taste and haven’t cluttered up the rooms with too much junk.” His smile was guileless. He cocked his head to the side and frowned suddenly. “Do you have many customers who change their minds, even if it’s too late?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course. They change their minds, constantly. That’s one of the reasons Gina and I concentrate on corporate clients. There’s usually less stress, though an office manager can be just as persnickety or indecisive as a homeowner. Luckily, not too many business people want to match the wall color to a tiny strip in the design of a throw pillow.”

“You mean you do all this work, then change it all around until the client likes it?”

“Of course. That’s what I get paid to do. I give the client advice based on my experience,” she answered, unable to understand his concern. “Everyone has an image of what they want, and I subtly try to show them how to do it with taste and style. Usually we can send back furniture or drapes, if they aren’t custom-made.”

“Have you considered a career in the diplomatic corps?” he asked, giving her a reluctant grin. “I’m beginning to understand why you’re so calm and serene. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else like you, Jessica DeLord. Don’t you ever get hopping mad and want to tell clients where they can put their stupid ideas?”

As he moved closer, she wished she was really the person he was describing. Calm had little to do with her emotions when he was nearby, especially at this moment. Torn between anticipation and apprehension, she willed herself to relax. This was what she had been wanting for the past week, to be face to face with Trevor to test her turbulent feelings.

Raising her chin, she waited for him to continue. Exhilaration shivered through her with one look at his avid expression. She almost laughed out loud at her urge to back away. This was what she’d been fighting against for the past few weeks. How foolish could she be?

It seemed so natural to lean toward him, lean into his hard body as his arms closed around her. The touch of his lips was gentle, hesitant, inviting her to respond. Tentatively she laid her palms against the flat plane of his chest, flexing her fingers against his warmth. His heartbeat matched the acceleration of her own.

Nothing existed in Jessie’s universe but the two of them. His arms were taut as his hands brushed over her back. The thin material of her blouse no longer seemed to exist. His unique masculine scent mingled with the smell of lemon oil and swamped her senses. His soft, thick hair slipped easily through her fingers. His mouth parted hers to deepen their kiss, seeking the hidden secrets within.

The traitorous little voice inside her sighed in satisfaction. As Jessie snuggled closer to his strong body, she perceived the danger in him. But instead of retreating, she moved closer, unable to resist the lure.

A moment later she felt bereft when his lips abandoned hers. Then she sighed in delight as his mouth trailed across her cheek to the ultrasensitive skin beneath her ear. “Oh, Jessie, this isn’t something that can be put on any list.”

For a moment she didn’t understand. Why was he talking about her plans for the house at a time like this? Then he was nibbling on her earlobe, and she really didn’t care.

“We’re good together, aren’t we?” His breath, warm and moist at her ear, shivered down her spine. “It doesn’t matter if my job involves overnight trips, or if I have two drinks before dinner.”

Jessie froze. His words suddenly made horrible sense. He knew about her candidate’s list. With sickening clarity, she remembered thinking that Gina had been keeping something from her earlier in the week. Trevor had managed to wheedle the list from her supposed friend!

“Jessie, what’s wrong?” Trevor raised his head, still holding her securely in the circle of his arms. His eyes narrowed as he tried to gauge her mood.

“Hey, Trevor! Are you in there, boy?” T.L.’s hearty voice boomed through the quiet room from the back of the house.

When Trevor seemed reluctant to release her, Jessie glared at him. She was not going to lower herself to struggle with him, but she refused to be caught in this embarrassing position. A second later he released her, his movements surprisingly awkward.

“In the dining room,” he called, his voice slightly hoarse. He bent down to retrieve the polishing cloth from the floor.

“Hey, boy, this place is certainly shaping up,” T.L. announced as he walked into the dining room. Tory and Logan were a few feet behind him.

Jessie thought she saw Logan give Trevor a rather curious look, but she dismissed it. Her imagination was working overtime due to the circumstances. No one would guess that she and Trevor were doing anything besides going over the house plans.

“I’m sorry if we came at a bad time,” T.L. declared, almost as if he had been reading Jessie’s mind. He brushed by his son’s silent figure without a second glance, not bothering to hide his interest in the drawings and samples on the table. “We were out buying an engagement present for Tory and Logan.”

“What? When did this happen?” Trevor suddenly came to life, giving his sister and her fiancé an accusing look. Reaching them in a single stride, he hugged his sister and thumped Logan’s back enthusiastically.

“Don’t you want to know who won the betting pool?” his sister asked, her smiling eyes belying her sardonic tone.

“Ouch! How did she find out?” Trevor stepped back quickly as if his sister might physically assault him. His question was directed at the harassed-looking man next to her.

“I didn’t tell her.” Logan glared at T.L., who was overly preoccupied with the sketch in his hand. “He wanted to find out if he was the big winner.”

“Well, who was?” Trevor demanded impatiently.

“You missed by a day, my friend. Logan proposed on Tuesday night. We didn’t tell anyone for a few days while we got used to the idea,” Tory replied. She smiled smugly at her brother’s disgruntled frown. “So nobody won, and I think it serves y’all right. Jessica, can you believe my family actually bet on when Logan and I would get engaged?”

“I think I can from my experience with your family,” she returned quickly, trying not to look in Trevor’s direction. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turning in her direction. “Congratulations on your engagement. I’m sure Trevor wants to show you the house. I can discuss this with him later, so I’ll come back—”

“Nonsense, young lady. I’d much rather have some pretty young thing be my guide than my idiot son.” T.L.’s broad smile told Jessie that she couldn’t refuse. There wasn’t going to be an easy escape from this situation.

She felt like a tightly coiled spring that was ready to explode. What made it worse was that no one else, including Trevor, seemed aware of the tension in the room. He continued to tease his sister about being captured by a Yankee, as if he hadn’t been kissing Jessie a few minutes ago. Jessie was the only one who felt ill at ease, wanting only to get away to lick her wounds. Unlike Trevor, she couldn’t simply switch her emotions off and on.

If T.L. hadn’t arrived when he did, she knew she would have done something incredibly stupid. Only a tenuous hold on deeply ingrained good manners was keeping her from lashing out at Trevor now. Why had she foolishly started to trust him? Whatever brainstorm had made her soften toward him was now erased. Hadn’t she known she shouldn’t let down her guard? It wasn’t her past that made her wary, but the man himself.

“Hey, where is everyone?” a light soprano voice called from the front of the house. “We’ve come to make an official neighborly call.”

A few minutes later the room seemed to be overrun with people. Everyone seemed to be speaking at once. Greetings were mixed with congratulations to the newly engaged couple and questions about what was being done to the house. Winona Capshaw and her twin sister, Wendy, were gushing over Jessie’s ideas and the delight at seeing her again.