Stolen Kisses (16 page)

As she led the group through the house, Jessie wondered wildly how she had avoided Trevor Planchet for so long. They seemed to have a number of friends in common but had never met until a few weeks ago. First Abby, then Wes, now Trevor’s neighbors Wendy and Winona, who had been in an interior design class that Jessie had taught for the University of Arkansas at Little Rock’s adult education program. Though she hadn’t seen them for a few months, the three women occasionally had lunch together. Those irrelevant thoughts kept her from dwelling on how naturally she and Trevor worked together while conducting the house tour. To a disinterested bystander, they might have been a happily married couple showing off their first home.

“Well, this is splendid, simply splendid,” Winona exclaimed, her arms looped through Jessie’s as they stood on the back deck. “I’m just so glad we dropped over. Wendy and I were saying the other day that we hadn’t seen you in ages. Isn’t that right, Wendy?”

“Exactly,” her twin answered in her usual economy of words. Without another word, she turned to the two men who had accompanied her and her sister.

“I knew the house was getting fixed up, but I didn’t know how far sweet old Trevor had gotten. Isn’t he just a dear? To think I hated him when we were attending Cotillion.”

“Did I hear my name?” Trevor stepped in front of them, blocking the view of the gazebo.

“Yes, you scamp. You always seem to know when women are talking about you.” Winona’s flirtatious laugh grated on Jessie’s already taut nerves. “I was just about to tell Jessie about how horrible you were when we were in school together.”

“I was an angel, and you know it. Now what are you trying to blackmail me into doing?”

“I never could get around you,” Winona complained with a pout. “I’ve been looking out my back window studying that little bass boat of yours. It looks so lonely and neglected.”

“My boat is yours, Winny,” he said gallantly, sketching a courtly bow. “Where are you taking it?”

“Griff and Nolan want to go camping next weekend up at Camp Silver Arrow,” she explained succinctly, her coquettish air completely gone. “And darned if Nolan’s brother didn’t cancel, leaving us without a fishing boat. Say, why don’t you come along instead? We were planning on six. What do you think, Wendy? Wouldn’t it be great to have Trevor and Jessie come along?”

“Wonderful.”

“Oh, Jessie, please say yes. You and Trevor need a reward from all this dusty work.” Winona tossed back her blonde ponytail with a practiced flip of her hand and smiled ingratiatingly. “I know you two could use the time alone together.”

Jessie didn’t know what to say or where to look. The group around her was suddenly very quiet, almost expectant. What could she say to her scatterbrained friend that wouldn’t sound ugly? She worried the wood flooring with the toe of her shoe. How had she gotten into this mess? By some unknown logic, Winona had decided she and Trevor were a couple. Then Jessie could feel her cheeks begin to burn.

Raising her head, her eyes locked with Trevor’s. His almost apologetic expression didn’t lessen her discomfort. All too clearly she remembered his explanation last week about neighbors and the lack of curtains. She had a good idea where Winona got her crazy idea.

“I’d say that sounds like a good idea,” T.L. pronounced. “Jessie’s looking a little puny, and we’ve probably been working her too hard. A few days of fresh air should do the trick.”

Jessie knew that she had to say something, and fast. Winona, with Wendy as her echo, was already making plans. She had to get out of this before it went any further. After today, Trevor Planchet was the last person she wanted to spend any time with, especially on a camping trip. She’d never been camping in her life.

“I would be very careful,” Tory Planchet murmured in her ear. Her smile was compassionate at Jessie’s start of surprise. “I think T.L. is planning on using the betting pool kitty on Trevor next. Good luck.”

Jessie turned and walked into the house for some peace and quiet. She couldn’t think of how to turn down Winona’s offer, short of refusing at the top of her lungs. Unfortunately, she couldn’t bring herself to cause a scene.

“Jessie?” Trevor’s voice sounded cautious and unsure, which she knew was ridiculous. He apparently had come into the house directly behind her.

She didn’t have time to answer before his family joined them. T.L. wanted to go over every detail of the plans and to find out exactly what was being done next. Although every minute of the next hour was pure torture for Jessie, she was thankful for T.L.’s forceful presence. He had them discuss each room and what was going to be done. Jessie didn’t have to worry about spending additional time alone with Trevor, not with his father standing between them mulling over each and every detail.

She knew that her luck wouldn’t continue, judging from the set look on Trevor’s face. Concentrating on T.L.’s questions about the ceiling painting she suggested for the living room, Jessie thought wistfully how nice it would have been to plan this house for someone she loved. Anyone but the calculating Trevor Planchet.

She’d almost fallen into his trap but had a lucky escape. So why was she feeling so dejected? Maybe T.L. was right, and she needed some time off. That was why she couldn’t resist watching how the afternoon sunlight drew out the reddish-gold highlights in Trevor’s thick brown hair. Her fingers flexed automatically at the memory of the silky texture.

Yes, she needed some time off, but not within a thousand miles of Trevor. Unwilling to dwell on her melancholy thoughts, she decided to concentrate her efforts on how firmly but politely to decline Winona’s invitation. Even more satisfying was the thought of the tortures that Jessie imagined for her former friend. Gina was going to be sorry she ever heard the name
Trevor Planchet.

Chapter Eight

“You have to talk to me sometime, you know,” Gina announced from her desk at ten o’clock on Monday morning. She had made the statement every fifteen minutes since she had arrived at nine.

“No, I don’t.” Jessie didn’t bother to turn around. She had come in early that morning and rearranged her office space. Her desk no longer faced the central hub of Aesthetics, Ltd.; she now had a view of a building across the street. Her desk was flush with the wall, and her credenza, conspicuously bare, was within easy reach at her right.

“At least tell me why I’m receiving the silent treatment.” Her voice was closer, telling Jessie that her partner had left her desk and was crossing the room.

“The note should be enough.” She’d left it in plain sight. The wording had been concise and to the point.

“Okay, I’m deceitful, manipulative, and worse than pond scum. What else is new?”

Jessie tried not to smile at the contrite tone of Gina’s voice. She’d planned to remain silent for another half hour, just to teach her meddling friend a lesson. She wasn’t really angry, just incredibly annoyed and somewhat embarrassed that Trevor now knew about her list of qualifications.

“Does this have something to do with Trevor, by any chance?”

“As if you didn’t know,” Jessie accused, spinning around in her chair. Leaning back, she rested her elbows on the padded arms and steepled her fingers together, regarding the culprit through the veil of her eyelashes. “I never knew that you could stoop so low.”

“So sue me for wanting to see you hooked up with an incredibly sexy guy. I’m lower than pond scum, which makes me pond silt I suppose.” The brunette hung her head in shame, her arms dangling limply at her side. After a moment, she gave Jessie a sidelong look from gleaming brown eyes. “Have I groveled enough?”

“Almost,” she stated judiciously. “Now all you have to do is get me out of going camping with the Capshaws, Griff Alexander, Nolan Petrie, and Trevor. I’d forgive you anything for that.”

“C—camping? You’re going camping?”

“Not if I can help it,” Jessie muttered, dropping her hands into her lap. Nervously she fiddled with the gold links of her belt. “I somehow got inveigled into this thing and—”

“And you were too polite as usual to get yourself uninvited,” Gina finished accurately. She hiked one hip into the side of Jessie’s desk, then crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really want to get out of this?”

“Of course I do. I don’t want to see Trevor Planchet unless absolutely necessary, much less spend a weekend with him out in the wilds.” She ruthlessly suppressed all the erotic images that had haunted her during the weekend, when dreams of wilderness camping suspiciously resembled being marooned on a tropical island. Arkansas had waterfalls but not palm trees.

“Should I quote some appropriate Shakespeare at this point?”

“I am not protesting too much. I’ve never been camping in my entire life.”

“It might do you some good,” her friend interpolated, a calculating look on her face. “You’ve been driving yourself too hard, both at work and looking for the ideal daddy. This camping thing may be just the thing—a new environment, fresh air, and relaxation.”

“Somehow I really can’t take any advice from you seriously these days. I know exactly where your loyalties are,” Jessie said dryly. “You’d tell me to book passage on the
Titanic
if Trevor had a ticket.”

“So, I made one little slip—”

“That’s what the Watergate burglars said.”

“Trevor or no Trevor, you need a break,” Gina continued ruthlessly. “Any time spent with the Capshaw twins will definitely be entertaining. A little silliness will probably help you get your perspective back and force you to reconsider the desperate measures you’ve been resorting to, just to find a husband. I’m beginning to think that sperm bank roulette might not be a bad idea after all. Oh, and I’ll help you move your desk back after lunch.”

Giving a decisive nod to indicate she was through, Gina hopped off Jessie’s desk and walked back to her desk. Jessie watched her morosely for a few minutes, not wanting to admit that some of what she said made sense. She did need a break. During all the years she’d been pushing herself, she’d only taken a day or two off occasionally, never a real vacation. She didn’t think, however, a camping trip was the answer.

For a second she was tempted to pull the mirror out of her desk drawer. She wanted to see if she looked like she was at death’s door, since both T.L. and Gina had mentioned she looked worn down. Of course, if she could just get a decent night’s sleep without dreaming of Trevor, crazy rabbits, or romantic waterfalls, maybe she would look perfectly healthy.

Hadn’t she lain awake the past two nights cursing her stupidity in even considering giving Trevor a chance? The traitorous little voice told her that he’d gone to Gina only because he truly cared for Jessie. She didn’t, think so. He was just trying to assure himself of another conquest. Then why didn’t he try to be a sterling example of her ideal, the little voice countered. She knew that it was too much effort for someone who relied on easy charm.

So why was she so disappointed that she was right?

“Delivery for Jessica DeLord.”

For a moment Jessie thought the muffled voice came from the four-foot rabbit in front of her desk, then she noticed human legs below the big white feet. Before she could speak the rabbit lurched forward to land on top of the papers on her desk. Her new pet was yellow and white with a bright yellow backpack strapped to its pudgy body.

“He’s ready for the trip, Jessie. Are you?” Trevor asked smoothly, casually leaning one arm on her desk alongside the rabbit.

He was the last person she expected to see. When she’d been at the house the past few days, he’d left curt messages concerning the schedule of what needed to be done before the Candlelight Tour. The landscaper would be finished by Friday. On Tuesday, the painter would leave an estimate for painting and papering the interior. Wednesday, Trevor would be at a meeting with the house chairman, who would be overseeing the necessary details for the house on the night of the tour. Now on Thursday he was standing in her office. Why hadn’t she given in to the impulse of leaving him a note of her own—her letter of resignation.

“Do you own a toy store?” she asked for lack of anything else to say.

“It’s beginning to look that way. I’m on a first-name basis with the entire staff by now,” he answered easily, not bothering to misunderstand. “You didn’t answer my question? Are you ready to go camping?”

“You didn’t have any luck getting hold of Winona, either?” She addressed the question to the rabbit, knowing it was safer that way.

“Nope. Remember she wants my boat.” She saw him move out of the corner of her eye, leaning his hip against the side of her desk as he waited for her response.

“She doesn’t want anything from me, but she still won’t return my calls.” Jessie didn’t bother to hide her frustration over the matter. “I’ve left ten messages on that darn machine.”

“The easiest thing might be to go,” he said softly. “What can it hurt?”

For the first time she looked directly at him. As usual when he had her cornered, she couldn’t read his expression. Sometimes she felt like the only time he let her know what he was thinking was when he kissed her. Ruthlessly suppressing the sensations that that thought conjured up, she wondered what her next move should be. If only he didn’t look so darn good, she protested mutely, trying not to notice the material of his tan slacks over his muscular thigh, or the tantalizing V at the open neck of his shirt. The man should be outlawed.