CHAPTER SEVEN
Eric Compton knocked twice, then shoved open the door of Kimberly’s office. A tall, striking man with thinning black hair, straight nose and brown eyes, he offered her his well-practiced smile. “Glad I caught you,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I thought you might need the tax file on the Juniper estate.” He dropped a manila folder onto the corner of her desk.
“Thanks.” She took the file and tossed it into her basket. “Have you got a minute?”
“For you? At least one—maybe even ten.”
She grinned. “Good.”
He dropped into a chair near the desk. “Shoot.”
“Okay. I got a little flack about this one,” she said, tapping the closed file with a fingernail.
“From Zealander. I heard.” Eric frowned and ran his fingers through his receding hair. “Bill came flying into my office the other day. He thinks I favor you.”
“Do you?”
Eric smiled. “I’d like to. But not by giving you plums in the office. I’ve always tried to keep my private and professional lives separate.”
“Good. So have I,” she said.
“I told Bill the same thing.” He plucked at the crease of his slacks. “However, I’m not sure he believed me. But—” placing his hands on the arms of his chair, he pushed himself up, “—that’s his problem. Now, anything else?” he asked without the usual double entendre.
“Not that I can think of.”
His well-oiled smile faltered a little. “Good. You know, Kim, I’d like to take you out. I’ve got tickets to the symphony next Friday.”
Kimberly sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Another time?”
“Maybe,” she said, then winced when she recognized a gleam of hope in his eye. “But probably not. As long as I’m working here, I think it would be better not to date bank employees.”
“Even the boss?”
“Especially the boss,” she said, offering a dimpled smile.
He shrugged. “Okay, but this is a warning. I’m not giving up. Just let me know when you change your mind.” He started for the door, then paused and glanced over his shoulder. “By the way, I saw a man hanging around the parking lot late last night. Be careful, will you? There’ll be a memo sent to all the employees, but I’m telling everyone in my department personally.”
“You think he’s dangerous?”
“Probably not, but we can’t be too careful,” Compton said as he closed the door firmly behind him.
Kimberly stared at the closed door. She thought about the man she’d seen lingering at the lamppost near her house and shivered. Though she’d nearly forgotten the incident, Eric’s warning brought it all back into sharp focus.
She tapped her pencil on her desk as the intercom buzzed.
“Ms. Bennett? Mr. Juniper’s here to see you,” Marcie announced just as the door to her office burst open again and Henry Juniper, a small, round man with a red face, strode up to Kimberly’s desk. She started to rise.
“My sister’s trying to cut me out of the estate, isn’t she?”
Kimberly was dumbstruck. “There’s no way she could. I thought I explained all that.”
“Oh, sure,” Henry said, his blue eyes flaming. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Especially if you get a greedy lawyer involved.”
“Why don’t you slow down and tell me what you’re talking about.”
“It’s Carole,” he said in exasperation. “She’s hired some hotshot attorney and now she wants more money! This guy—what’s his name—Kesler—he’s out to bleed me dry!”
Kimberly’s heart dropped to the floor. “Ben Kesler?”
“The shark himself. I’ve heard he’s a barracuda, that he never gives up. Just keeps biting at you!”
Kimberly, shaking inside, held up a hand. “The terms of your father’s will were very clear. There is nothing Mr. Kesler can do to change that. Anything he tries will just be smoke and mirrors. The will is cut and dried.”
He calmed a little and nearly fell into the chair recently vacated by Eric Compton. His fingers tapped nervously together. “You’re sure about this?”
“Positive.”
“And there’s never been a case where one heir has been able to squeeze out a little more?”
“I didn’t say that. It depends upon the circumstances, of course—”
“Aha! I knew it.” His hands flew into the air. “Father lived with Carole for a while, you know, while he was convalescing after his hospital stay. I suggested a nursing home, but oh, no, she wouldn’t hear of it. Wouldn’t hear of it, I tell you!” He leaned closer. “Wanted to get on his good side, don’t you know. I think she was trying to get him to change his will the entire time he was with her. It didn’t work, and now she’s going to charge the estate for his care—and then there’s Kesler’s attorney fees and God-only-knows what else!”
“Slow down, Mr. Juniper,” she said. “The head of our department, Mr. Compton, is an attorney himself, and he’s worked very closely with the attorney for the estate. I assure you that everything’s in order.”
“Oh, great, just what we need! A couple more attorneys involved. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place!”
* * *
She spent the next half hour going over the account and settling him down. By the time six o’clock rolled around, all she could think about was going home to dinner with Lindsay, a hot bath and a good book.
She tossed a few files into her briefcase and frowned at the pink memo in her in-basket—the memo reminding everyone to be careful in the parking garage.
As she swiped her coat from the hall tree, the phone rang. Balancing purse, case and coat in one arm, she grabbed the receiver quickly. “Kimberly Bennett.”
“Jake McGowan.”
At the sound of his voice, her heart somersaulted.
“I know it’s late, but I thought we could catch a movie, then have a late dinner.”
“I thought we had an agreement.”
“No, lady, you had an agreement.”
“Jake, this isn’t going to work—”
“What if I told you we have work to do?”
She smiled, forgetting about the hot bath and book. “I still can’t go out. Arlene’s busy tonight.”
“You don’t have another sitter?”
“None that I can count on.” She was surprised at how her heart seemed to drop to the floor in disappointment.
“Then I guess we’ll have to forgo the movie and get right to it. I could drop by your place, and you could make me dinner.”
She laughed and threw caution to the wind. What could one night hurt? “All right, counselor, you’re on. I owe you that much.”
There was a long, nerve-wracking silence on the other end of the line. “You don’t owe me anything.” His tone was dead sober.
“Okay, don’t consider it a debt. In fact, you can bring the wine.”
“White or red?”
“Surprise me.”
“I’d love to,” he said silkily.
Kimberly’s heart tripped.
“I’ll see you between seven-thirty and eight.”
Kimberly stood rooted to the spot until she heard him hang up. Then she dropped the receiver. Clutching her bag, briefcase and coat to her breast, she muttered, “You’d better get moving.”
She took the elevator to the basement lot, which was as poorly lighted as ever. The hairs on the back of her neck raised a little and she felt as if unseen eyes were boring into her back. “Don’t be paranoid,” she chided herself, but nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the scrape of a shoe behind her.
Her heart leaped to her throat as she remembered Eric Compton’s warning. Spinning, she surveyed the lot, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, just a few other employees walking to their vehicles.
Behind the wheel, her hands began to sweat, and she locked all the doors before pulling out of her parking space. As she drove through the gate, she caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure huddled behind a post, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s just your imagination,” she said, hoping to calm her jittery nerves. “Nothing else.” But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched as she drove across the river to Sellwood.
The drive home, including a stop for groceries, took less than thirty minutes.
Kimberly juggled two sacks as she unlocked the back door and hurried inside. Arlene and Lindsay were in the kitchen.
“Did you get anything for me?” Lindsay asked, eyeing the sacks from her vantage point under the table, where she was carefully stacking building blocks.
“Everything,” Kimberly replied with a sly grin. “It’s dinner. And we’re having company.”
Arlene’s brows inched upward.
“What company?” Lindsay demanded. She scooted out of her hiding place and eyed her mother. “Who’s coming over here?”
“Jake—you met him earlier.”
Lindsay’s lower lip protruded, and her pudgy face clouded suspiciously. “I don’t like him!”
“Why not?”
Lindsay shrugged. “He’s too big.”
Arlene smothered a smile.
“Tell him to go home!”
“Wonderful,” Kimberly whispered sarcastically. “This is shaping up to be a barrel of laughs.”
“Come on, you,” Arlene said fondly, taking Lindsay’s hand. “I’ll help you get cleaned up.”
While Arlene and Lindsay were upstairs, Kimberly unpacked the groceries she’d bought, put a kettle of water on the stove and raced into the bedroom. She changed into a pair of black jeans and an aqua-blue sweater, then hurried back to the kitchen and tossed the lasagna noodles into the steaming kettle. After starting another can of tomato paste simmering, she yanked out vegetables, cheese and the remains of a baked chicken, then started grating mozzarella cheese.
Arlene returned to the kitchen. “Lindsay wanted to finish dressing herself. She’ll be down in a minute.” She studied the boiling pot on the stove. “What’re you making?”
“Chicken lasagna.”
“Need some help?” Arlene snatched her favorite apron from a hook near the back door and tied the strings around her thin waist.
“I’ll manage,” Kimberly said wryly. She glanced nervously at the clock mounted over the stove and started working double-time on the cheese.
“Then let me,” Arlene offered. Without waiting for a reply, she found a sharp knife and began expertly separating bones from meat. “Tell me about this McGowan character,” she said, casting Kimberly a sly glance.
“Well, he’s my lawyer.”
“That much I know. I met him already. I assume he’s single?”
“You assume correctly,” Kimberly said, remembering how pained Jake had appeared when he’d talked of marriage. “But he was married once. His wife’s dead. They were divorced.”
“What about children? Does he have any?”
“No.” She filled Arlene in, surprised at how little she knew about Jake.
“Sounds like a bit of a mystery man to me,” Arlene observed as she stripped off her apron.
“He is,” she admitted, frowning. “I keep thinking I’ve heard of him before, but I don’t know where.”
“Does it matter?”
Kimberly lifted a shoulder. “Probably not.” She layered the lasagna and stuffed it into the oven.
Lindsay barreled into the room. Wearing lavender stretch pants and a T-shirt with mint-green bears tumbling across its front, she handed her mother a wrinkled ribbon. “I did my ponytail myself!”
“So I see.”
“But I can’t tie the ribbon.”
“I’ll help.”
“And I’ve got to scoot,” Arlene said, pressing a kiss onto Lindsay’s forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Lindsay cried, “What about the tree?”
“Tree?” Kimberly asked.
“The Christmas tree!”
Arlene’s hand was poised over the doorknob, but she stopped. “Oh, right. Maybe tomorrow.” She explained to Kimberly, “I’ve got a little Douglas fir I promised Lindsay. Lyle’s brother brought us a couple of firs from his tree farm by Estacada. We only need one, so I left the other in a corner on your back porch.”
And we’re s’posed to put the lights on it!” Lindsay said.
“Tomorrow—”
“Now!” Lindsay cried.
Rolling her eyes toward the ceiling, Arlene said, “I’ll see you in the morning, angel. Don’t forget you’re staying overnight with me Friday night.”
The tree momentarily forgotten, Lindsay grinned.
“And you,” Arlene said to Kimberly as she opened the door, “take my advice and go out.”
“I’ll think about it,” Kimberly said to the door as it shut.
“Go out where?” Lindsay demanded.
“I don’t think it matters.” Kimberly laughed, wiping her hands and then tying the ribbon around Lindsay’s ponytail. “As long as I go. Come on, you can help me.” She reached into the drawer and pulled out three settings of silver—part of a wedding gift from her grandmother. “Put these and the red placemats around the table in the dining room.”
“Candles?” Lindsay asked, “and fancy glasses?”
“Silver, china, candles, the works,” Kimberly said, laughing.
Lindsay’s face brightened. She tore into the dining room and started her task with a vengeance.
Twenty minutes later the doorbell peeled, and Kimberly nearly jumped out of her skin.
“I’ll get it!” Lindsay said, sprinting into the living room.
“Be sure to look out the window first—”
But Lindsay had already yanked the door wide open. Jake was standing on the porch, two bottles of wine tucked under his arm. Cold air swept across the porch, swirling the few dry leaves that had collected near the railing.
At the sight of Jake, Kimberly’s heart did an unexpected flip, but Lindsay eyed him suspiciously.
“Come in,” Kimberly said, closing the door and taking Jake’s jacket. “Dinner’ll be a while.”
Inhaling dramatically, Jake said, “It smells great.”
“Let’s just hope it tastes as good as it smells.”
“Here.” He handed her the two bottles of wine, his fingers grazing hers. “Red or white—whichever you prefer.”
“I want red!” Lindsay announced.
Kimberly laughed. “But you’ll get white—the kind that comes from cows.”
Jake uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass. “To success,” he said, nodding in Lindsay’s direction.
“Success,” she agreed, wondering if it were possible as she touched her glass to his.
“Now, which do you want first—the good news or the bad?”
She froze. So this is why he’d wanted to go out. To prepare her. She felt her face pale a little. “I hate good news-bad news jokes,” she said softly.
“This is no joke.”
She sucked in her breath. “I was afraid of that. Okay, let’s start with the good.”
“Robert’s attorney petitioned for a change of custody, and we have a court date. January twentieth.”
“That’s good news?” she asked, her heart nearly stopped.
“It gives us time to work.”
“I hate to ask what the bad news is.”
Jake touched her arm. “The judge assigned to the case is Ken Monaghan.”
Kimberly nearly dropped her wine glass. “Monaghan? But he and Robert . . .”
Jake’s lips thinned. “. . . have known each other for years.”
“Surely he couldn’t take the case.”
“I objected and made a lot of noise at city hall, but Monaghan was assigned the case.”
Kimberly rested a hip against the counter. All her fears settled in her heart. She’d been kidding herself, of course; there was no way to fight a man as powerful as Robert.
“Don’t worry,” Jake said, reaching forward, his hand cupping her shoulder.
“But he could take her away.” Tears stung her eyes, and she had to fight from breaking down completely.
Jake drew her close. “Hey, I told you I wouldn’t let that happen, didn’t I?”
“But—”
“You asked me to keep you informed, to let you know everything that’s going on. That’s why I told you. But we’ve got to work fast.”
“How—?”
“By proving that Robert isn’t fit to be a father.”
The room seemed to close in on her. Going to court against Robert was one thing. Trying to publicly rebuke him was another. “But I couldn’t—”
Jake’s expression turned stern. “You promised,” he reminded her, “that we would do this my way or no way. We both know that Fisher has been involved in a lot of shady deals, some of which have been downright illegal. You’ve suspected as much for a long time. All we have to do is connect him to the crimes.”
Kimberly stiffened. “Crimes?” she repeated. It sounded so harsh. Her insides quaked.
“You don’t have to play innocent,” Jake said, all kindness gone from his features. His gaze drilled into hers. “You were his wife. You lived with the man. You saw things no policeman has ever seen.”
“So you want me to play spy, is that it?” she asked bitterly.
“I want you to do everything possible to keep your child with you.”
Kimberly leaned heavily against the counter. She knew it would come to this, of course. Jake had been dogged in leading up to Robert and his questionable connections. She sipped her wine but didn’t taste it. Jake, like so many others, believed the worst of Robert. Not that she didn’t think he had his faults. But a criminal? A crime lord? A man involved in drugs and prostitution and smuggling? She didn’t believe it, though she’d noticed the change in him. “I just don’t have any proof,” she said. “I told you that already.”
Jake’s face grew taut. “You’re the only one who was close enough to him to know of anything incriminating.”
“We’ve been over this before. He never discussed his business with me while we were married, and we’ve barely spoken since.”
Jake’s eyes grew cold and calculating. Kimberly shuddered as he insisted, “Maybe you saw or heard something you don’t think is important,” he prodded, pressuring her.
With a great amount of effort she concentrated, her thoughts returning to that bleak, lonely time that was her marriage to Robert Fisher. She remembered many things she’d rather forget, but nothing to do with his business.
“He,” she began on a sigh, “was cold. Not interested much in the family. He spent a lot of nights away from the house.”
“Did anyone visit him?”
“No.” She chewed on her lower lip. “We had only a couple of parties while we were married, and most of the people who came were wealthy businessmen and their wives.”
Jake’s jaw split the side. “What about after Daniel Steven’s death?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“It wasn’t suicide, you know,” Jake said, his gaze never leaving her.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. Believe me, it just didn’t happen that way.”
Kimberly finally understood. “You knew him, didn’t you?” she asked gently.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me before?” she asked, staring at him as if he were a stranger—for in many ways he was. “Why not?”
“I didn’t want to color your judgment.”
“Or you didn’t trust me with the truth.” She felt anger swell up inside her. “That’s it, isn’t it? Even though you told me you’d tell me everything.”
“Daniel’s death doesn’t have anything to do with your case.”
“Then why do you keep bringing it up? You lied to me.”
He grabbed her wrist in an iron-like grip. “I didn’t lie to you. I just didn’t mention my friend.”
“Why not?”
“What would be the point?” They eyed each other for several seconds, and Kimberly was sure he would feel the quick beat of her pulse on his fingertips at her wrist.
“Let’s just start out being honest with each other, okay?”
His mouth tightened. “Of course.” Then, explaining, he said, “Daniel investigated a man who’s been known to associate with the less desirable elements of society, including your ex-husband. And Dan ends up dead.” Jake’s nostrils flared slightly. “Now, Kim, just what conclusion would you draw from that?” His eyes were dark with an inner, raging fire.
“I don’t know,” she said, swallowing hard, unable to believe that Robert would be involved in drugs and murder. Her throat worked, and her voice was barely a whisper. “I—I’m sorry about your friend.”
“So am I,” he said, dropping his arm. He finished his wine and set his glass in the sink. “Let’s not think about Dan,” he said under his breath. He shoved his fists into his pockets and closed his eyes. Slowly the tension in his features relaxed. “At least, let’s not think about him tonight.” He stared for a few long seconds through the kitchen window to the black night beyond. “Enough for now,” he said quietly, “but if you think of anything—anything—that might tie your ex-husband to organized crime, you’ll let me know.”
“Organized crime?” she choked out, but his stern expression cut off any further protests.
“Yes.”
“All right,” she agreed, mentally crossing her fingers. Fighting Robert for custody of Lindsay was one thing; trying to prove him a hardened criminal—perhaps a murderer—was beyond her comprehension. And she couldn’t forget that Jake, if he hadn’t actually lied to her, had kept the truth to himself.
The timer buzzed. Kimberly started, then getting a grip on herself, motioned toward the dining room. “Sit—and pour us each some more wine. The red. Lindsay and I’ll serve.”
Jake settled into a chair at the table. The hard anger in his face disappeared, and he actually managed a thin smile. Oddly, despite his mood swings, Kimberly sensed that he belonged in this house, that his presence filled an empty void that she hadn’t known existed until she’d met him.
“Lindsay,” Kimberly called to the girl in the next room, “can you put your toys away and come in here, please.”
Rustling could be heard outside the kitchen, followed by Lindsay’s jovial voice. “Coming!” she proclaimed.
With Lindsay’s help Jake lighted the cream-colored tapers. Candlelight gleamed in his dark hair and in the ruby-red claret as he poured.
Kimberly placed the thick Portland phonebook on a chair and hoisted Lindsay on top of it. Once Lindsay was settled, she set the platter of lasagna on the table and took the chair opposite Jake’s. His gaze touched hers as she sat down. His sensual lips curved into a smile, and Kimberly’s chest constricted against a wayward rush of emotion.
They could be friends, she thought, maybe even lovers, if circumstances were different. Jake McGowan was a fascinating, mysterious man and she liked him—more than liked him. That was the problem. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was falling in love with him. And yet there was so much she had yet to learn. Why hadn’t he told her about Daniel Stevens being his friend? And why did she feel he was still holding something back?
Later, after the dinner dishes had been cleared and Kimberly had tucked Lindsay into bed, Jake tried to tell himself to go home, that he had no business being here. He couldn’t afford to fall for Kimberly, and he certainly didn’t want to form any attachment to her daughter. Yet he lingered, watching Kimberly with a growing fascination that was dangerous and wanting to please the little blond girl.
“Coffee?” she asked, pouring water into the coffee maker.
“Maybe later.” He motioned toward the back porch, where he’d seen what appeared to be a bedraggled fir tree. “Let’s put up the tree and surprise Lindsay.”
“You’d do that?” she asked, setting the plates in the sink.
He lifted his shoulder. “Why not?” Jake noticed the proud set of her spine, the graceful way her hair fell between her shoulder blades and the nip of her waist, visible when she reached into a high cupboard for the sugar jar. Her sweater slid up a bit, exposing creamy white skin. Jake felt a stirring deep within and glanced away, swallowing hard against a suddenly dry throat.
While he wrestled with the tree, Kimberly opened the closet under the stairs and began pulling out boxes of lights, tissue paper and ornaments. Finally she found the stand. After wiping off the dust and moving the old rocker, she placed the stand by the window and watched Jake struggle with the fir.
Dark needled branches swiped at Jake’s face as he attempted to place the sawed-off trunk squarely in the stand. The house filled with the scent of fresh air and pitch. Unaware of needles caught in his hair or that his muscles moved fluidly beneath his sweater, he adjusted the brace and asked Kimberly to hold the tree straight.
“I think it leans a little,” Kimberly said, eyeing the listing Douglas fir.
“Which way?”
“Right—no, left.”
Jake laughed. “Make up your mind.”
“I will, when you quit moving it.”
Swearing under his breath, Jake gave the tree a shake.
“That’s better.”
Jake’s deep, rumbling chuckle erupted from beneath the lowest branches. “This could take all night.”
Through the branches, he saw her grin. She was beautiful. Her hair was mussed, red-brown and framing her face in tangled curls, and her eyes, wide and intelligent, were the most seductive shade of blue he’d ever seen. She didn’t want to get involved with him—he’d made no bones about it—and he knew getting romantically entangled with the ex-Mrs. Fisher was an irrevocable mistake. Yet he couldn’t shake the hope that maybe she would change her mind.
“Okay—let’s take a look,” he announced, climbing from beneath the branches and shoving his hair from his eyes. The poor tree was drooping, fighting a losing battle with gravity. “Just a few minor adjustments,” he said, delving beneath the lowest branches again. Extracting a pocket knife from his pants, he worked on the trunk, trimming off a few unnecessary limbs. His voice was muffled when he said, “how about a hand—can you straighten this thing?”
“I can try.” Kimberly tugged on the tree, and finally stood upright as Jake adjusted the brace.
“That’s better,” he said, leaning back on his heels to check the angle of the fir. Satisfied, he stood, dusting his hands.
He was so close to Kimberly she could see the streaks of dark gray in his eyes, feel his breath against her hair, smell the scent of musky aftershave mingled with the odor of fresh fir boughs surrounding him.
“Now, the lights!”
She laughed. “You’re as bad as Lindsay!”
“Doesn’t everybody love Christmas?” he asked, grinning.
“Not everybody. Remember Scrooge and the Grinch and—”
Without a word he swept her into his arms so suddenly, her breath rushed out in a gasp. “Enough, already.” His lips molded over her so intimately that Kimberly’s knees went weak.
“I—thought we had an agreement,” she rasped when he finally lifted his head.
“We do.”
“Then what—?”
“Hang on.” Eyes twinkling, he reached into his pocket and held up a sprig of mistletoe. “This cancels any rash promises we’ve made.”
“That’s not fair,” she said, giggling. “Isn’t it supposed to be dangling from the ceiling or something?”
“Something,” he murmured, holding the sprig over her head and kissing her soundly again. This time Kimberly was ready, and despite the doubts crowding her thoughts, she returned the fever of his kiss, delighting in the feel of his lips, tasting the wine-flavored sweetness of forbidden passion.
His tongue prodded her lips, and she opened her mouth eagerly, her arms twining around his neck and his fingers gently scraped the bottom of her sweater, where the soft skin of her abdomen stretched enticingly.
Desire burned like wildfire in her veins. She felt his hips press intimately to hers, an erotic swelling beneath his slacks moving sensually against her. Slowly he lifted his head. “I can’t get enough of you,” he rasped.
Liquid inside, she opened her eyes. She was tingling all over, and she felt the bittersweet ache coiling deep within.
“This can’t happen,” he said as if trying to convince himself. “Shit, it just can’t.” He stepped away from her and forced stiff fingers through his hair. “It’s unfair what you do to me.”
Bereft, Kimberly tried to slow the pounding of her heart, but hot desire still ran wantonly through her limbs. “That works two ways, counselor.”
He smiled, a self-mocking grin that lifted one corner of his mouth. “I hope to God it does,” he said.
“Believe me.” Taking deep breaths to steady herself, she found the string of lights and began untangling the green wires. “After we finish with these, maybe we should get back to business,” she said, wishing she didn’t have to bring up the custody hearing.
“What’s the matter, Kimberly? Are you scared of what might happen if we don’t keep things strictly business?”
She couldn’t ignore his challenge. “No way.”
He cocked a defiant dark brow. “You’re worried that things might get out of hand.”
She met the mockery in his gaze with her own. “Are you?”
“Hell, yes!” he whispered, stringing the lights.
Together they wound several strings of lights through the branches. Jake shoved the plug into the socket. The tree sparkled in a blaze of red, green and gold.
Kimberly crossed her arms under her breasts and nodded. “Good job.”
“Not bad, if I do say so myself,” he admitted, observing the tree.
“I guess I’m in the majority that loves Christmas,” she admitted.
“That doesn’t surprise me.” He stared straight at Kimberly, then brushed some needles from her hair. Kimberly’s pulse jumped at the seductive glint in his eyes. “This year is going to be special.”
“Oh, wow!” Lindsay chimed from the stairs. Her eyes were wide, and she flew down the stairs, her tattered blanket billowing behind her. “It’s beautiful!” She clasped chubby hands together and dropped the blanket.
Kimberly grinned and picked her up. “What’re you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Lindsay said, then looked at Jake and added, “my daddy’s giving me a puppy for Christmas!”
The magic of the moment shattered. Kimberly drew in a sharp breath, detesting Robert for his promise. “Oh, no, honey, I don’t think—”
“He is, he told me.” Lindsay folded her arms across her chest defiantly.
“We’ll see.”
“He is. He said so!”
Kimberly’s brows drew together. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Daddy doesn’t do that.”
“If you say so.” Kimberly carried her daughter and the blanket up the stairs. Silently praying that Lindsay hadn’t seen Jake kissing her, Kimberly said, “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you back in bed.”
“Daddy promised!”
“He and I have to talk,” Kimberly decided. “But right now it’s time for bed.”
“No—”
“Shh. It’s late. Come on.” She tucked Lindsay under the covers. “Good night, precious,” Kimberly said as her daughter yawned and snuggled under the comforter. A few minutes later Lindsay was snoring softly. Kimberly kissed Lindsay’s curly crown before sneaking quietly downstairs.
Jake was leaning over the fireplace, stacking chunks of fir in the grate. His shoulders bunched beneath his sweater as he worked, and Kimberly could imagine the rippling strength of his muscles hidden beneath the soft wool.
He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her footsteps. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked.
“No, by all means—” she motioned toward the grate “—a fire would be nice.” The room had become cozy, the colored lights of the tree glowing softly against the raindrops drizzling on the windowpanes.
“I thought it might make things more comfortable before we begin.”
“Begin?”
Then she noticed the coffee table. Mugs of coffee were steaming next to a yellow legal pad. Her heart sank. She didn’t want to think about Robert any longer. Tired of his promises to Lindsay, his fight for custody, his dark business dealings and his damn lies she wanted to block out of her mind forever. But, of course, she couldn’t. She sat on the arm of the couch, staring at the fire while twisting her fingers in her lap. “Let’s get it over with.”
He smiled, displaying the same crooked grin that touched her heart. “It’s not an execution, you know.” Stepping across the carpet until he was standing above her, he stared down at her, his gray eyes filled with kindness and understanding.
He lifted her chin with one finger. “Relax. This is gonna be a piece of cake.”
“I hope so.” She forced a wobbly smile and tried not to concentrate on the warmth of his skin against hers. She swallowed hard, and, as if he’d seen her reaction, he quickly withdrew his hand, picking up his pen and snapping off the cap with his teeth.
Pressing a button on his recorder, he sat on the edge of the table, disturbingly close as he faced her. “Okay. We’ll start out slow. Tell me about your family life as a child. Would you say it was happy?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. We lived on a farm in Illinois before moving to California. Mom and Dad worked hard, and we never had a lot, but we didn’t go without either. It was a, oh, what’s the right word?” she said, looking to the ceiling. “Carefree. Yeah, it was a carefree existence. At least to me,” she finished.
“What about your folks?”
“Well, they worried a lot. About the weather and the crops and the price of grain. That sort of thing. Mom gave piano lessons to some of the neighborhood kids for extra money.”
“So, all in all you were content?”
“As much as any kid,” she replied, surprised at how easily she explained her life on the farm. She entwined her fingers around one knee and thought back to the rolling hills of sweet-smelling hay, the apple trees in bloom, the sound of the windmill clicking as a breeze picked up. Telling him about helping with the haying in summer, harvesting and canning in the fall, she recounted her early years and smiled. The memories of life on the farm wrapped around her like a coat she’d outgrown but had missed. She went on to describe moving to California and eventually the loss of her father.
Jake brought the conversation back to Robert and her marriage. Folding her arms around herself as if against a sudden chill, she stared at the yellow flames of the fire. She could feel Jake’s eyes on her and knew he was searching her face for some trace of emotion, but she refused to look at him. Thinking about Robert and all the hope she’d foolishly held in her heart saddened her.
She couldn’t tell him anything she hadn’t already. And eventually Jake snapped off the recorder and leaned back on the couch.
“Is that it?” she asked, finding her voice. It sounded weak, and she knew her skin was pale.
“For now.”
“Thank God.” She was still caught in the storm of feelings that had surrounded her marriage, was still staring blindly at the fire when she felt his fingers surround her wrist.
“If it’s any consolation,” he said slowly, “I think your husband is the biggest fool I’ve ever heard of. He was crazy to let you get away.” Grabbing her wrist, he drew her forward, off the arm of the couch, so that she fell against him. Her hair tumbled around her face, and her hands pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater.
His arms surrounded her. “And just for the record,” he said, his voice low, “I think you’re the prettiest, sexiest and most intelligent woman I’ve ever met.”
Surprised, she had to suck in her breath.
Her face was only inches from his, and his eyes, a luminous gray, reflected the scarlet embers of the fire. “I also think you’re the most intriguing woman I’ve known in a long time.”
She could barely breathe.
The brackets near the corners of his sensual mouth deepened. His gaze shifted to her lips, lingering as if he were lost in their promise. His fingers spread lazily across the small of her back, moving gently.
“I—I don’t think this is such a good idea,” she whispered, but already her blood was throbbing through her veins.
“Neither do I.” But he didn’t release her. If anything, his grip seemed to tighten.
“Is this a test?” she wondered aloud, trying to think.
“A what?”
“You know—for the hearing—to see if I’m promiscuous?”
He chuckled. “If this is a test, it’s a test of my self-control.” His face was flushed, his eyes beginning to glaze.
Kimberly’s heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it over the hiss of the fire, and she thought she heard a separate cadence, as if he, too, was having trouble slowing his heartbeat.
She knew he was going to kiss her again and she felt his fingers move lazily upward to tangle in her hair. She didn’t stop him, because she couldn’t. She wanted him as desperately as he wanted her.
All the reasons for her to get up, keep their relationship strictly business, crossed her mind, but still she didn’t struggle for freedom. When his lips finally caressed hers, she melted inside. Her lips parted of their own accord, and her arms wound around his neck.
She relished the delicate pressure of his tongue rimming her lips before slipping between her teeth and exploring the velvet-soft recess of her mouth. A feminine ache, starting deep in her soul and spreading outward, throbbed for release as the pressure of his lips increased. He sank deeper into the soft cushions of the couch, taking her with him.
Her fingers settled around his neck. She felt the fringe of his hair brush against the back of her hand.
Groaning, he kissed her harder, his lips molding over hers as one hand twisted in the fiery strands of her hair, pulling her head backward, exposing the creamy column of her throat.
“Kim . . .” he whispered, pressing hot kisses against her skin, “. . . why are you doing this to me?”
“I’m—not doing anything,” she murmured, barely able to think as his hot lips seared the length of her neck and lingered at the small circle of bone surrounding the base of her throat.
She felt his leg rub against hers as he held her closer still, until she was lying above him, her hair falling like a shimmering curtain to his shoulders, brushing against his chest.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” he groaned.
She stared into his eyes then and read the torment of conflict and emotion in his gaze.
“Then—then stop.”
“I can’t, dammit,” he growled, swearing under his breath before cupping the back of her head with his hands. Pulling her forward, he forced her lips to crash against his in a kiss that forced the breath from her lungs and sent her dizzy mind reeling faster and faster until she couldn’t think, couldn’t reason, could only feel.
“Mommy?”
Kimberly froze. Swallowing hard, she heard Lindsay’s feet hit the floor.
“Again?” Jake asked, dazed.
“I told you about the nightmares.”
“Because of the custody battle?” Jake asked, his brows drawing down in concern.
“I don’t know. I hope not.” Kimberly sat up and calmed her hair with her fingers as she heard the patter of feet.
Lindsay, blanket in tow, stood at the top step, rubbing her eyes.
“I had a bad dream.”
“Oh, pumpkin.” On her feet in an instant, Kimberly dashed up the stairs, scooped her daughter in her arms and held her close, glad that Lindsay wouldn’t understand the flush climbing up her neck or the side of her heart. “Let’s get you a glass of water, hmm?”
Lindsay buried her face in Kimberly’s neck. “I was scared.”
“I know, sweetie, but nothing’s wrong. I’m here with you and I always will be.” Glancing down the stairs, she spied Jake staring up at her.
Still half-sprawled on the couch, his hair tousled over his eyes, he caught her gaze and winked suggestively. Kimberly’s heart turned over as she carried Lindsay into the bathroom, gave her daughter a drink, then helped her back in bed.
“I’ll leave the bathroom light on for you,” she said softly. Pressing her swollen lips against Lindsay’s blond curls, she asked, “Will you be all right?”
“Stay with me,” Lindsay pleaded, and Kimberly couldn’t resist.
“Okay.” She climbed into the bed, holding her daughter’s head against her breast, stroking her baby-fine hair, and feeling the heat of Lindsay’s breath as her daughter snuggled against her. “Go to sleep, honey,” she whispered, watching the steady rise and fall of Lindsay’s chest as she tried to calm her own breathing.
As Lindsay fell asleep, Kimberly thought about Jake and her violent reaction to him. Startled at the intensity of her feelings for a man she’d known only a few weeks, she cradled her daughter closer, shut her eyes and wondered how she would get through the coming court battle. She couldn’t imagine being near Jake and still being able to keep her distance.
A quiet cough caught her attention. Her eyes flew open, and she found Jake leaning against the rail of the loft. He had already donned his jacket. He was leaving! Every emotion deep inside broke free, and she almost begged him to stay.
But before she could form a protest, he blew her a kiss and winked, letting her know he didn’t begrudge her closeness with Lindsay. Then he disappeared from view. She heard the front door open and close while a gust of icy wind danced up the stairs. From the living room below, the glow of colored lights seeped into the loft, and Kimberly smiled to herself. No matter what the future brought, it included Jake, and that thought alone was comforting.