Hallie patted his arm. “Well, don’t you worry. First, we’ll dispose of this trash,” she nodded toward Cyrus, who was dazedly pulling himself into an upright position, “and then I’ll examine your injuries. Thank God Serena insisted that I look for her lost parasol, or I never would have happened by.”
Jake eyed her with mock innocence and feigned an injured moan. “You promise? You’ll take care of all my injuries?”
“Of course,” she retorted soothingly, turning to frown in Cyrus’s direction and thus missing the deviltry growing in Jake’s eyes.
“So this is the piece who’s replaced my daughter in your bed, eh, Parrish?” growled Cyrus, staring back at Hallie with open contempt.
Hallie gasped with shock, her hand tightening instinctively on the parasol.
Cyrus’s eyes raked her with distaste. “Can’t say much for your taste in women these days. But then again, I don’t expect that a gimp like yourself has much of a choice anymore.” He gave Hallie a lewd wink. “Well, at least he doesn’t keep you awake at night, eh, Missy?”
Hallie flushed with embarrassment as the man made a crude hand motion that left little doubt as to the meaning of his remark.
With a growl of fury, Jake hurled himself at Cyrus, pinning him to the floor. Like a man possessed, he rained blow after brutal blow upon his antagonist in an uncontrollable barrage, unmindful of anything except satisfying his burning rage. The sight of the man’s frightened eyes and his desperate struggles to escape only added fuel to Jake’s anger.
“Jake, stop! Please stop! You’re going to kill him!”
Jake ceased abruptly as Hallie’s frantically pleading voice penetrated his bloodthirsty frenzy. As he stared at Hallie’s ghostly white face and looked into her amber eyes, large with terror, he dropped his bloodied fist to his side. Then he looked down at Cyrus’s battered face. With a foul oath, he released the man, who, now silent, sagged against the carpet.
“Jake,” Hallie murmured, her heart contracting at the look of shame and defeat that swept over his features. She bent down to help him to his feet, whispering, “It’s all right.”
Wrapping her arm around his trim waist and stooping slightly to brace her shoulder beneath his arm, she supported him securely against her softness. He made no protest as she guided him to a chair a few feet away and settled him carefully in it.
She then turned to scowl darkly at Cyrus King. With a little sniff of disgust, she stalked to the door, fully intent on summoning Hop Yung to toss their unwanted visitor into the street.
As she yanked the door open, Hop Yung came tumbling into the room, obviously guilty of eavesdropping. With admirable aplomb, he pulled himself upright and made an energetic bow in her direction.
Hallie couldn’t help smiling at the little man’s audacity. “Hop Yung, would you be so kind as to see Mr. King to the door? I believe he has expressed a desire to take his leave.”
Hallie and Hop turned to stare expectantly at Cyrus King, who hesitated and then nodded, apparently thinking better of voicing his objections.
Jake watched the byplay, smiling to himself and thoroughly enjoying the sight of his father-in-law being forced to defer to Hallie’s imperious commands. He chuckled softly. His Mission Lady certainly was a bossy piece of work.
As Cyrus King followed Hop out the door, he stopped abruptly, his cold glare striking Jake from across the room. “Don’t think this is the end of it, Parrish. I’ll be back for Serena, and the next time don’t expect to hide behind a woman’s skirts.”
“Be glad for that woman’s skirts. They kept me from killing you.”
“Just remember my words when you toss up those same skirts and take your paltry pleasures. Next time it will be you at my mercy, and nothing will stop me from killing you.”
With that, Hop Yung slammed the door shut, catching the lagging Cyrus squarely in the back and eliciting a loud howl of pain from him.
“What an awful man,” whispered Hallie, sinking to her knees in front of Jake.
“And they say mothers-in-law are the ones to be feared,” he joked feebly, smiling as she spat daintily on her handkerchief and lightly dabbed at the blood smearing his chin.
Hallie returned his smile wistfully. Even with that blackened eye, and with blood dripping from his lip, he was still the most wonderfully handsome man she had ever seen.
As gently as possible, she wiped his lip, relieved to see that the wound had stopped bleeding. Unconsciously, she touched the cut, and the texture of his sensuous mouth seemed to burn her fingertips.
Lord! she thought, dropping her hand abruptly. The man’s strong, masculine beauty is making my mind go all mushy and turning me into a witless ninny. It didn’t seem fair, or decent, that every inch of him was so perfect.
Hallie let her gaze slide down to the muscular form correctly attired in a gray morning coat. No, it wasn’t fair at all. How was she supposed to keep her wits about her when his jacket hugged his powerful shoulders like that? And the way the white linen of his crisply starched shirt contrasted against the smooth honey tones of his skin? It was positively sinful. She definitely needed to attend a few of Reverend DeYoung’s revival meetings, seeing as how her mind was working its way down such a wicked path.
And down was where Hallie’s gaze sank. She didn’t miss the way the cut of his impeccably tailored trousers snugged against the flat surface of his belly, or how they hinted at the athletic strength of his thighs. She also noted, with unmaidenly interest, how the fit left little doubt as to his masculinity.
Hallie suddenly realized where her eyes were focused and quickly glanced back up at his face. She drew a sigh of relief when she saw that his expression was politely bland. Thank God he hadn’t noticed her over enthusiastic inspection of his person. She flushed at the memory of her bold scrutiny, and it was then that he rewarded her with a wickedly charming grin.
“Finished with your examination, Doctor?” Jake quizzed lightly, leaving no doubt in her mind that he had observed her eager perusal. “And have you come to any conclusions?”
He leaned forward as if daring her to reply.
Hallie hastily composed herself and answered in her best doctor-to-patient voice, “I conclude that the nasty-looking cut on your lip should be properly tended.”
“My lip?” he asked, a teasing light dancing in his smoky-green eyes. “Is that all you discovered in your rather, ah, lengthy observation?”
“I wouldn’t presume to pronounce any further findings without a far more complete, and I might add, intimate, examination,” she retorted rather primly. She stole a glance at Jake and saw that he was regarding her with warm interest.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had the unusual privilege of being intimately, or otherwise, examined by a lady physician.” He lightly stroked the curve of his jaw, mulling over the notion. “The idea does have some merit, though. Hmm. Come to think of it, I did take some nasty blows from Cyrus King that could benefit from your tender ministrations.”
He nodded, and Hallie became mesmerized by the genuine smile that sketched across his lips, a smile that was reflected in the inviting depths of those tip-tilted eyes, beckoning her to move closer.
“What’s wrong, Doctor? Afraid to intimately examine a man?” he taunted challengingly. “Or could it be that you’re not nearly as experienced as you would like me to believe?”
“Of course I’ve intimately examined men before. Hundreds of them!” she lied, half expecting the ceiling to open up and lightning to strike her where she kneeled.
For, in truth, her experience with male anatomy was strictly limited to little boys and one very old cadaver. She’d certainly never treated a man as potently masculine as Jake Parrish.
Nonetheless, not being one to shrink from a challenge, Hallie added brazenly, “I’ve even been known to dissect a few male cadavers, and if that’s not intimate knowledge I don’t know what
is.”
What, indeed! Jake thought, forcibly suppressing his urge to howl with laughter at the naiveté of her words. In a choked voice he managed to reply, “I hardly think a dissection will be necessary. However, you did promise to tend my injuries and I’m feeling the need sorely.” He closed his eyes, groaning playfully.
Hallie rose to her feet and reached for his face. “If that is what you wish, then it’s my sworn duty to aid you in your distress.”
Jake almost laughed aloud at Hallie’s priggish little speech. Then he felt her cool, work-roughened hand cup itself beneath his chin. He opened his eyes as she gently lifted his face and found himself captured by a most remarkable pair of golden eyes. The color vaguely reminded him of the sun reflecting through amber glass, and they were lit as brightly as a candle, flaming with an intelligence and compassion that sparked his imagination. They were beautiful eyes, exotic with their almond shape and thickly rimmed with inky lashes. Eyes that offered a generosity of spirit, an innate kindness, a caring, that Jake found himself longing to accept.
Hallie tenderly traced the dark swelling beneath his eye, not daring to meet the gaze she could feel trained upon her face. For she knew that to do so would mean to drown in those cool green pools. When Jake at last lowered his lids, his heavy lashes swept against her fingers, startling her with their length. Then he winced, almost imperceptibly, at her gently probing inspection, and her heart wrenched with sympathy.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, for to have spoken in a normal tone would have broken the curious magic of the moment. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” He sighed and then relaxed.
She let her fingers slide in a feather-soft motion down the side of his face, her sensitive touch reveling in the surprisingly silky texture of his skin. She stopped to explore the tempting contour of his high, chiseled cheekbone.
“Jake?”
“Hmm?”
“I would never hurt you,” she murmured, overwhelmed with tenderness.
“I know.”
And Hallie felt her breath catch in her throat as Jake rested his cheek in her cupped hand, nuzzling gently against her palm in an almost childlike gesture of trust. It was an act of naked vulnerability—an act that made her yearn to enfold him in her embrace and to rest her face against his, an act of such simple faith that it almost undid her.
It was as if Jake Parrish, a man known for his omnipotent strength, had let a chink open in his steely armor and was entrusting her with a revealing glimpse into his sensitive inner soul. Lightly, she stroked his cheek, mutely acknowledging his silent plea for tenderness.
The feel of Hallie’s gentle fingers against his face infused Jake with the peace he urgently sought yet rarely found these days. He was held spellbound by the magical solace that radiated from her touch. How natural it felt to rest his cheek in the curve of her palm—how right. It was as if he had waited a lifetime for someone who could still the thundering chaos raging in his head and engulf him with a warm blanket of tranquility. It seemed like forever since he had been blessed with the priceless gift of a caress.
Yet, somehow, this odd little woman had recognized his aching need and, with the touch of her hand, had made him realize just how much he missed simple human contact.
Jake opened his eyes to study the face that went with the bewitching touch. It was true that Dr. Hallie Gardiner would be considered plain by many, for her face had that square-jawed type of strength that was at odds with the delicate, doll-like features that were so in vogue. Yet her skin was as smooth as an unblemished peach, with a tint every bit as delicate as the fruit it resembled. And though her nose was a bit long, it wasn’t unattractive; it didn’t hook, bump, or twist. Indeed, it was blade straight and could safely be pronounced unremarkable.
Then Jake’s eyes sharpened with interest, caught by a pair of generously curved lips. He had always preferred women with full, succulent mouths, for they seemed to invite a provocative impression of lush promise.
And Hallie Gardiner definitely had the sort of mouth that made a man hunger to tease it with his lips and tongue. Jake could almost picture that mouth swollen and trembling from the assault of his kisses, and his groin tightened uncomfortably in response to his erotic thoughts.
With a violent shudder, he forced his eyes away from the disturbing feature to meet her dreamily longing gaze. Ah, yes. One mustn’t forget those wonderful, expressive eyes.
Yet most people would consider it a nondescript face, he mused to himself. But if that were true, then why did he, a man known for his unerring appreciation for beautiful women, feel such an urge to pull those untidy coils of hair from the spinsterish chignon and watch them dance in fire-touched splendor around her face? Why did he long to explore what lay beneath her ugly, ill-fitting clothing, to discover if her magic was in more than just her touch? But most of all, why did he feel such a need to bury himself in her flesh and fill his loneliness with her warmth?
A slash of heat knifed through his loins as he suddenly pictured Hallie naked and in his arms. She was beautiful, her skin the color of melted peaches and cream, touched by the molten copper of her hair as it cascaded around her enraptured face. He could almost feel her heat as he plunged his needful flesh into the core of her fire, forcing a response from her body so sweetly overwhelming that she arched up violently, hungry to receive every inflamed inch of him.
So graphic and unexpected were his thoughts that he was unable to suppress his shuddering moan.
“Jake?”
He opened his eyes at the sound of her anxious voice.
“Are you all right? You look so flushed and … strange.” She paused to feel his forehead. “You seem to be a trifle warm. I hope you’re not getting a fever.”
“Warm?” he muttered beneath his breath, shifting in his seat to find a more comfortable position. “Now there’s an understatement.” The cut of his trousers was definitely on the constricting side at that moment.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing!” he snapped, far more sharply than he intended. Didn’t the woman realize what she had done to him?
Then he laughed. Of course not. She was the Mission Lady, for God’s sake. Imagine getting worked up over one of those prudish Bible-thumping fanatics.
He glanced at her highly colored face and remembered the longing he had read in her eyes. Well, maybe not so prudish, he amended. Not if her transparent reaction to him had been any indication of her true feelings. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he wondered what Hallie’s reaction would be if she could read his thoughts.
Worried. Hallie was worried. Lord! The man was sitting there, laughing like a lunatic, and neither one of them had said anything remotely funny. Perhaps Cyrus King had inflicted some sort of terrible damage on Jake’s head when he had hit him.
Unmindful of everything except her growing concern for Jake’s condition, she abruptly buried her hands in the sable softness of his hair and began to prod at his skull with sharp, jabbing motions.
Jake’s laughter died in his throat at her odd behavior. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for the bump.”
“What bump?”
“The one that will be swelling over the crack in your skull. I can’t think of anything else that could make you behave in such an unpredictable manner!”
“Ow!”
“Aha!” she crowed triumphantly, poking at the knot rising on the back of his head. “I knew it!”
“My behavior has nothing to do with that particular bump,” he growled, removing her hand and rubbing the area with a reproachful look.
Hallie crossed her arms over her chest. “If your head isn’t the culprit, then pray tell what is?”
“You really want to know?”
“Of course. I can’t make a proper diagnosis if you don’t tell me where it hurts,” she scolded. “Now why don
’t you show me the area that’s causing you such discomfort so I can make a thorough examination?”
His eyes raked her boldly for a moment before he drawled, “Fine. Do you want me to drop my trousers here, or would you prefer to examine me in the privacy of my chambers?”
At his words, Hallie’s gaze flew downward, and her eyes widened with shock as they focused on the bulge of his arousal.
“Well, Doctor? What’s it to be?” He grinned lazily. For the first time in their acquaintance, the woman was struck speechless.
Think, Hallie! she commanded herself, wondering at the strange tension that was coiling deep in her belly and trying to ignore the way the thought of Jake Parrish trouserless made her feel curiously flushed all over. She glanced up at his face to see him smiling at her. Aha! He was bluffing. He had to be. He wouldn’t just drop his pants like that … would he? But did she dare to call his bluff?
“Right here will be just fine.”
His eyes flared with surprise and then he gave her a very slow, very wicked grin. “As you wish, Doctor.” And his hands moved to the buttons on his trousers.
“Wait!” Hallie gasped. Damn the man. Leave it to Jake Parrish to effectively trump her play. Oh, Lord! Now what?
“What’s this, Doctor? Surely a woman of your vast experience wouldn’t be shocked by the sight of a naked man?”
“Of course not.” The bastard! Wait. Oh, yes. She knew how to fix him! She remembered a woman at the medical college who had been much too pretty for her own good. She had regularly been accosted by such behavior from clodhopping men. After one such episode, in which a swain had become frighteningly persistent, she and Hallie had concocted a method of discouragement which had proved to be 100 percent effective.
“Well, Doctor?” he quizzed in a taunting voice.
“I was just trying to save your modesty until after I had had Hop Yung fetch me a bucket of ice. Of course, if you want to undress now, it makes no difference to me.” She stared at his hands on his waistband.
Yesterday's Roses Page 10
