Stolen Kisses (24 page)

“Will you be serious? We need to talk about our wedding.”

“Will
I
be serious?” she echoed in amazement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone besides Trevor Planchet was in this bed with me. When did you turn into such a traditionalist?”

“From the moment I looked across the room and fell in love with a beautiful fairy-tale princess,” he stated to her satisfaction, finally losing interest in her family. Trevor moved suddenly, shifting her onto her back to prove his statement with a persuasive kiss that ended much too soon. “I wake up every morning wondering if you’re just a dream.”

“We’re in this dream together,” she reassured him, linking her arms around his neck. “Are we through talking about my family now?”

“Mmmm,” he answered against the vulnerable skin of her neck. “Right now I’m thinking about engagement rings.”

“What?”

Propping himself up on his elbows, he gave her an earnest look. “I think it’s past time I got a ring on your finger. There are a few former husband candidates out there who need to be warned off. You’re mine now, Jessica DeLord, and I want the world to know it in no uncertain terms. How do you feel about diamonds?”

“Why don’t you surprise me?” she said sweetly, gliding her hands down his rib cage. It was time for her to take control of this conversation. After children, her family, weddings, and engagement rings, she wasn’t sure what he’d come up with, and she wasn’t going to take any chances. She trailed her fingers over his hips, moving her hands between their warm bodies to show him exactly what was on her mind.

“Oh, Jessie,” he managed hoarsely as she discovered that his thoughts weren’t so far from her own.

“Why didn’t you say you wanted to work on having a baby again?”

“Shut up and love me, Trevor,” she murmured as she felt the full weight of his body against hers.

“For the rest of my life, sweetheart,” he pledged, capturing her lips in a heated kiss of promise. “Don’t ever forget how much I love you, Jessie.”

Thursday morning, she ran the conversation over and over in her mind, trying to remember every word. It had been the last meaningful discussion she’d had with Trevor before he had disappeared the next morning. He’d been gone when she had waked. She hadn’t heard a word in twenty-four hours, and she was beginning to worry.

The peal of the phone on her desk broke into her thoughts. “Hello. Timothy, you were supposed to be finished last week. I know your brother broke his arm, but I have to have wallpaper up by Saturday at four o’clock to be ready for the tour. Yes, please see if you can find someone to take his place.”

“Something wrong?” Gina asked the moment Jessie slammed the receiver back down.

“What isn’t? I’m not sure Trevor is going to have furniture on the first floor at the rate this is going. The first delivery was two days late, so who knows what will happen if the rest of it gets behind schedule.”

“You still haven’t heard from Trevor?” Gina asked as she handed her a cup of tea. “This should help your nerves.”

“Nothing but that silly note telling me he would be out of town for a few days and to go ahead with finishing the house.” Jessie exhaled heavily, not sure how to express her frustration at this point. “I can’t get a straight answer from anyone. Even the tour committee is giving me fits; they’ve all suddenly become as vague as Mrs. Langford-Hughes. No one knows a thing about the refreshments and entertainment for the gazebo, not even the house chair. We have only two days left, and she said she would have to get back to me.”

“Don’t start pulling your hair out yet. There’s probably a very good explanation for all of this. You know that Quapaw tours are a great success every year, and have been for thirty years,” Gina reasoned, slipping into the chair by Jessie’s desk. “You know how committee work is. The right hand doesn’t know what the left is doing half the time. By Saturday this will all be a tempest in a teapot.”

“I don’t care about the committee. I’m worried about Trevor,” she muttered, swinging around to look at her quintet of rabbits lined up along the credenza. “He hasn’t even sent me a new bunny.”

“I’m not sure he could.”

“What do you mean?” Jessie asked anxiously, knowing that she was acting like a fool.

“I think the bunny in the towel was risqué enough. He was that man who answered your phone Monday morning at eight o’clock, wasn’t he?” she asked dryly, giving her friend a speculative look. “I got the shock of my life when I called to see why you were late for work, and Trevor answered the phone. You’ve been late for work three days this week. Exactly what kind of bunny were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little paranoid,” Jessie admitted reluctantly. “Everything has happened so fast. The man asked me to marry him, and now he’s gone. If he shows up in one piece, I’m going to strangle him.”

“Yes, it certainly sounds like you’re in love,” Gina murmured and got up to return to her desk.

The next morning Jessie was ready to hire a hit man, not content to wait for Trevor to reappear in her life.

She entered the office after lunch with her temper boiling. There were still bedroom walls to be completed at the house. She would undoubtedly be up half the night supervising the wallpaper hanger and wondering where the second shipment of furniture from Dallas had gone. It wasn’t in Little Rock, Arkansas.

“No. That’s right. Okay, that will work. Uh-huh. Not right now.” Gina waved as she continued her cryptic phone call. “That’s not possible at the moment. I’ll have to call you back.”

“Any messages?” Jessie asked listlessly, knowing the answer before she heard it.

“Mr. Devon called about his wall hanging, and the Curley-Q Hair Saloon would like us to do an estimate. That’s it.”

“Do you think the library would let me have my baby and husband-hunting books back?” she asked idly while going through the mail. “I’ll rip up the tax form for my donations if they do.”

“Jessie, what’s going through your mind?”

“Nothing really. It would just give me something to do while I’m waiting for the man to show up again,” she grumbled, flopping down behind her desk. “Are you still coming to the house tomorrow night before the tour starts?”

“Actually, I don’t think I can make it after all.” Gina shuffled her feet and gave an apologetic shrug. “Jeff called a little while ago, and I think he’s made plans for us. I’m sorry. I know you wanted me to be there—”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault—” Jessie broke off as she looked toward the entrance. T.L. Planchet was waving at her through the glass. A moment later, he stepped into the office, having to maneuver carefully because of the large box under his arm. “Good afternoon, ladies. Isn’t it a glorious day out? I understand they’re forecasting excellent weather for the tour tomorrow. How are things going?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t ask, T.L.,” Gina answered quickly.

“Not so good, I see.” His brown eyes narrowed as he studied Jessie, waiting for her answer.

“No, we’re running behind on everything. Tr-Trevor was right when he said the schedule was too tight,” she informed him, attempting to keep her voice light. Then, unable to mask her curiosity over his appearance, she asked, “What can we help you with today? That should cheer us up.”

“Oh, I think it will. If you would be so good as to close your eyes, Jessie.”

“Pardon?” She wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him correctly.

“Humor me and close your eyes,” he said good-naturedly, giving her a broad wink, “then I’ll tell you my business.”

She obeyed his instructions, completely bewildered by this turn of events. At the sound of rustling tissue paper she cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out what was happening.

“All right, my dear. You can open your eyes now,” he called out.

Jessie opened her eyes to find T.L. and Gina holding the most beautiful ivory lace dress she had ever seen. She couldn’t resist stepping around her desk to touch the soft material. The design looked like something straight out of an old lithograph.

“This is your dress for tomorrow, I believe. I’m just the delivery boy.”

“Is Trevor back? Why hasn’t he called me?” she asked anxiously, trying not to let her old fears resurrect themselves. She’d held them at bay all week, only to be swamped by doubts at the most inappropriate times.

“No, he called last night to say he was delayed,” T.L. replied, draping the dress over her arm. “He said he’d be back tomorrow and that you should wear this for the tour. That’s all.”

Unable to call Trevor a few harsh names in front of his father, Jessie laid the dress across her desk and began to pace the room. “T.L., does any of this make sense to you? I’m at my wits’ end trying to get this house done on time, and he’s disappeared into thin air for three days.”

“I know it looks strange, but just be patient. I’m sure he’ll be able to explain everything tomorrow,” he said consolingly, his usual bluff manner not in evidence. “Why don’t you plan to take a few days off next week? After a hectic week like this, I’m sure you could use the rest.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Jessie,” Gina chimed in.

She looked back and forth between her partner and Trevor’s father. Were they trying to tell her something, or was her imagination running off on a tangent? Right now she didn’t have time to think. Even if Trevor had been in town, she still would have had to deal with paper hangers with broken arms, uncooperative committee members, and missing furniture.

Her only glimmer of hope was that Trevor would be here tomorrow and the tour would be history by Monday. If she could just hold on to her sanity that long, she was sure she could survive. She wasn’t sure, however, how she would react if Trevor was still missing tomorrow.

Standing in the living room of the Dalrymple house at four-thirty on Saturday afternoon, Jessie wondered if she could slip out to the back garden and have a quiet nervous breakdown. The quiet chimes of the grandfather clock in the entry echoed through the house. Everything was done that could be done.

The last piece of wallpaper had been hung almost at the stroke of midnight. Jessie had crawled into Trevor’s brass bed alone, hoping against hope that he would be beside her when she woke up. He hadn’t been. She’d occupied her time removing drop cloths from the bedroom furniture, rehanging two sets of drapes, and waiting for the furniture delivery.

Wiping a weary hand across her forehead, she surveyed the room. The furniture had arrived two hours earlier, four hours late thanks to a flat tire. Looking around at the beautiful room, she felt the glow of pride begin to blossom inside her. By using traditional colors and plants, she’d created an illusion of the Victorian period without the clutter. The older pieces blended easily with the new.

Her sense of accomplishment was bittersweet because there was no one here to share it with her, at least not the person she wanted. Where was Trevor?

“Jessie, why aren’t you dressed yet?” called Tory Herrington from behind her. Jessie whirled around to find Tory and Logan standing in the archway. Both of them were in formal attire, just as half the people on tonight’s tour would be.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to help, but there isn’t any time for questions,” the brunette said sharply, giving her husband her purse and shawl. “The tour guides are scheduled to be here in less than an hour, so let’s get shaking.”

Jessie didn’t put up any resistance when Tory took her hand and practically dragged her up the stairs. With a surprising talent for organization, Tory had Jessie in and out of the shower and standing in her floor-length slip in less than fifteen minutes.

Jessie found herself plunked down at the vanity table in the dressing room off the master bedroom before she knew it. As Tory efficiently dealt with her hair and makeup, Jessie fancifully imagined she was a Victorian grande dame being prepared for some social event by her personal maid.

“Good heavens, what’s that noise?” she asked, coming out of her trance at the sound of off-key music.

“I think that’s the string quartet tuning up for the entertainment later. My people arrived with Logan and me to set up the refreshments.”

“You’re doing the refreshments?” Jessie parroted foolishly. Maybe she had had her nervous breakdown without realizing it.

“My father is the only one who can get away with hiring my competition,” Tory stated heatedly. “My brother may act like an idiot occasionally, but he isn’t stupid. He also has excellent taste in clothes. So let’s get you into this gorgeous dress.”

Standing in front of the cheval mirror a few minutes later, Jessie agreed that Trevor had amazing taste. She looked just like the Victorian lady she’d imagined a few minutes ago. The dress fit her perfectly—the lace collar emphasized her slender neck and the mutton-chop sleeves and wasp waist accentuated her willowy figure. It was as if the dress had been made for her.

“I knew you’d look exactly like that.”

Jessie barely had time to glimpse Trevor’s reflection in the mirror before he spun her around and crushed her in his arms. She flung her arms around his neck, relaying all her frustrations and anxieties into the embrace. The first touch of his lips breathed life back into her, making her feel alive for the first time in days. She forgot everything but the warm hands caressing her back and the hard, moist lips roaming over her face.