“Poor little cat,” said Rand, leaning closer. His breath rustled Jamie’s hair. He brushed his lips against her temple and for one impetuous moment, she gave up the fight and allowed herself to fully relax against him.
They both sighed softly.
The rain fell harder, and the wind whipped cold droplets on them and the kitten, making it shiver. “We’d better get him inside.” Jamie forced herself to move swiftly from Rand. But she couldn’t stop herself from turning her head, to see if he was following her.
He was, and she began to tremble all over again.
“Let’s take a good look at this little guy,” Rand said, as they stood in the vestibule of the library. He reached over to pet the cat. It was coal black with yellow eyes and four white paws. “It looks like he’s wearing high-topped sneakers,” he observed dryly.
“That’s a good name for him—Sneakers.” Jamie caught her breath as Rand slipped his thumb beneath her hand to glide over her palm while his other four fingers continued to stroke the cat.
“That’s too generic. And there’s nothing generic about this kitten. He’s a designer cat, no doubt about it. He needs a brand name...Reebok.” Rand’s thumb continued to make suggestive forays from her wrist to her palm.
She raised her eyes to his. The sexual tension hummed between them.
“Jamie, come home with me tonight,” he said huskily. Her heart seemed to lurch to a stop, then start again at breakneck speed. “No.”
“You need to broaden your vocabulary.” His lips curved into a wickedly beguiling smile. “You make too much use of the word no. Say yes, Jamie. You know you want to.” Had Eve and the serpent had a similar conversation concerning a certain piece of fruit? Jamie gulped. “I don’t.” “You do,” he said silkily. “And you will.”
“Miss Saraceni, you got it! You got the kitten!” bellowed Scotty from across the library. He raced toward Jamie and Rand, followed by the other children.
Rand muttered a fierce curse. Jamie felt relief sweep through her. Things were moving too fast and she was too off balance to trust her judgment. She wasn’t sure of her instincts any more, she wasn’t sure of anything any more!
Except that she wanted Rand Marshall so badly that she ached with the force of it, and she didn’t dare give in to her desires.
The children crowded around Rand and Jamie, all of them pushing and straining to reach the kitten.
“Can one of you kids take him home?” Jamie a hopefully, and all the children expressed a desire to do so, then one by one disqualified themselves. Most of them lived in apartments that didn’t allow pets; one child’s brother had an allergy to cat hairs, three of the kids said an animal was too expensive to feed.
“You’ll keep him, won’t you, Miss Saraceni?” one of the children pleaded.
Jamie suppressed a grimace. She’d known all along it would come to this, but felt obliged to make at least a token protest. “With seven cats already at home—” she began.
Rand interrupted her, his tone incredulous. “Seven cats?” She nodded. “And the only thing worse than living with seven cats is living with eight of them.”
“That is a lot of cats,” fifth-grader Ashley agreed. She turned to Rand. “Do you have any pets, mister?”
He shook his head, and the child beamed. “Then^ou can take the kitten home!”
“Me?” Rand was flummoxed.
“What a fantastic idea!” Jamie thrust the little black kitten into Rand’s arms. “Here, hold him. Isn’t he irresistible?”
“You’re certainly managing to successfully resist him,” Rand said dryly. A cat... and him? He’d never had a pet before; he’d even avoided the responsibility of plants. But the kitten was tiny and soft and mewed plaintively as it settled against him. Rand looked from the kitten to Jamie to the expectant faces of the children. The kitten’s tiny pink tongue darted out to touch his hand.
“He’s licking you!” cried Ashley. “He likes you! He knows you’re his new dad.”
“Mr. Marshall, we’re all so grateful to you for giving our little library-box kitten a home,” Jamie said, turning to Rand with a dazzling smile. Only he saw the gleam in her eyes.
“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” he muttered. It was disconcerting to realize that he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, not when Jamie was smiling at him in that certain way. He felt the sandpapery brush of the kitten’s tiny tongue on his skin again. Glancing down at the newly christened Ree-bok, he faced the inevitable. He was well and truly stuck with this cat.
“Miss Saraceni, you said we could put up the St. Patrick’s Day decorations today,” piped up a skinny little girl with long blond braids.
“That’s true, Tiffany,” agreed Jamie. “They’re in a folder on the big table in the activity room, along with some rolls of masking tape.” Before she’d finished speaking, the kids were racing to the room at the back of the library.
Rand watched them go. “I’m trying to figure out how I got roped into this.” He shook his head. “Never thought I’d see the day I’d be playing daddy to a cat!”
“It’s a good way to get started,” Jamie said dryly. “By the time you’re daddy to a baby, you’ll be a pro.”
“A baby?” Rand laughed. “Me?”
“Why not? Don’t you like children?’*
“Sure. I like kids. And while I’m aware that single parenthood is in vogue, I firmly believe that a couple should marry before having a child.”
“And, naturally, the smoothest of smooth operators has no plans for marriage.”
“You bet I don’t,” he said breezily. “I like my life exactly the way it is. You, of course, want to get married,” he added with a rather patronizing smile. “You’ve undoubtedly been dreaming of orange blossoms and white lace from the time you dressed your first Barbie doll in her wedding gown.”
“My mother dressed the dolls. She’s still dressing them. Mom’s a doll dealer,” Jamie explained. She was eagerjo drop the subject of marriage. Though she didn’t know why, his irreverent attitude toward it depressed her. “Our house has thousands of dolls stashed in every room.”
“Our house?” echoed Rand. “You live with your mother?"
His tone was similar to that of someone who’d been exposed to the bubonic plague and was asking about the symptoms. Jamie heard apprehension, disbelief and horror in his voice.
She was proud of her family and not at all apologetic about living with them. She told him a little about the seven Saracenis at home, not forgetting to include her older brother Steve, a frequent visitor, though no longer a permanent resident.
“All those people live in the same house with you?” Rand was aghast. “I haven’t dated a woman who lived with her family since my teens, when all my dates were teenagers themselves.”
“Then isn’t it lucky that you’re not dating me?” Jamie shot back.
“When I reached my thirties, I even gave up dating women with roommates,” Rand continued wildly. No, he would not, he could not get mixed up with a woman whose living arrangements rivaled an episode of The Waltons. “You could invariably count on the roommate to appear at all the wrong moments.” He grimaced at the memory. “What a major inconvenience!” But nothing like the presence of seven live-in family members!
“And you accused me of being a control freak!” Jamie said caustically. “A classic case of the pot calling the kettle black!”
“Exactly what do you mean by that?”
She smiled a superior little smile that set his teeth on edge. “I mean that you’re as controlled, and controlling, as I am, if not more so. At least I live with other people who make it impossible for me to completely control everything in my life. You won’t even risk that.”
He stared at her, stunned. A lifetime of perceptions seemed to spin and shift like pieces in a kaleidoscope, and he saw himself not as a freewheeling, devil-may-care bon vivant, but as a rigid, regimented... control freak? He furiously sought to deny it, to her and to himself.
“You’re way off base with your armchair analysis, honey. I happen to be the most spontaneous, live-for-the moment person I know. It’s just that I hate inconvenience and demands and expectations.”
His voice rose as he warmed to the subject. “I put up with all of that in my professional life, but not in my social life. The ideal Rand Marshall woman lives alone. She comes and goes as she pleases, just as I come and go as I please. There are no strings or ties, just freedom, independence and privacy.”
Rand was positive that privacy and convenience would be unattainable with a woman who lived with seven members of her family. There would be curfews, schedules, obligatory boring chats with curious, expectant relatives. One thing was certain: hot sex and family life just didn’t mix.
“I’ve never heard of a more sterile, lonely, unfulfilling life.” Jamie was glaring at him now. “I feel sorry for you and your so-called ideal women. But then, maybe you deserve each other.’!
“Don’t waste your sympathy on me,” he said tightly. “And my life is not sterile or lonely or unfulfilling! Far from it!”
He thought of his house, his cars, his fat royalty checks. He’d achieved all of it on his own, independent of the Marshall family fortune and its strangulating restrictions. He could do what he wanted, when he wanted, wherever he wanted. There were no demands or expectations, not even on holidays, for his parents and brother had long been making their own holiday plans without including him.
“Well, don’t let me stop you from returning to your terrific life,” Jamie said, dismissing him with a chilly glance. “I have to check on the children now.” She turned and walked away.
“Jamie,” he called after her. He chose not to recall that only moments before, he’d been ready to relegate Jamie Saraceni to the far recesses of his memory because her living arrangements were inconvenient for him. Inexplicably, he couldn’t seem to let her walk away.
“I’ll need to buy some supplies and things for the kitten. I could use some advice on what and where to get it.” He turned on the full force of the Rand Marshall charm, complete with engaging smile. “Will you come along? Living with seven cats qualifies you as an expert adviser. We’ll go as soon as you’re off work. Six o’clock, isn’t it?”
“I’m sure you’ll manage just fine on your own. The sales clerks in any pet store will be glad to help you,” Jamie said, without looking at him.
She was hurt and angry—and determined to put Rand Marshall out of her thoughts for good. She’d watched him recoil as she’d talked about her family; he’d rejected her out of hand, and Jamie did not take rejection lightly.
She’d watched her handsome, charming brother reject woman after woman, time after time; she’d observed her sister’s heartbreak when poor Cassie had been rejected by her womanizing, smooth-talking husband. All those years of witnessing rejection secondhand had bred a resolve in Jamie never to experience it personally. So far, she hadn’t. She did the rejecting, by carefully screening whom she dated, by taking her leave the moment she sensed trouble in a new relationship.
She sensed big trouble now. Rand Marshall held a power over her that no other man ever had. The power to hurt her. Jamie’s defenses roared into overdrive. She continued walking toward the activity room.
Rand’s eyes filled with emotion. He was suddenly so consumed with fury, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he ignited into flames. “If you walk through that door, you’ll never see me again,” he said in a low growl. “I won’t play the role of besotted sap and besiege you with balloons and candy and flowers to raffle off.”
She whirled around, her deep blue eyes as fiery as his. “Good!”
He stared at her, taken aback by her response. It wasn’t the one he’d been expecting. “I’m not bluffing, Jamie,” he felt obliged to point out.
“I realize that. You’ve already made it very clear that you won’t waste your precious time on someone who’s committed the unpardonable offense of living with her family.”
He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. She was besting him at every turn. A totally new experience for him. Women didn’t argue with Rand Marshall, they pulled out all stops trying to please him. And he liked it that way!
What he should do—what any self-respecting Brick Lawson hero, oozing glib machismo would do—would be to get out now. He didn’t have to put up with a stubborn, strong-willed control freak who refused to play the role he’d assigned her. He turned to leave.
Then it struck him. He wasn’t going to talk to her again. He wouldn’t see her smile, wouldn’t kiss her. Ever again. He’d never get the chance to make love to her. Rand tried to identify the peculiar feeling that gripped him. Was it...loss?
Jamie pushed open the double doors leading to the activity room.
“Jamie.”
The sound of his voice, deep and masculinely commanding, halted her in her tracks. She gazed at him, her dark blue eyes pensive and wary.
“When I heard you lived with your family, my first inclination was to head for the hills and not look back.”
Jamie said nothing. Rand drew in a deep breath. “But I’m still here.” His lips twisted into a self-mocking smile. “There are no hills to run to in South Jersey, the terrain is relentlessly flat. And I still wantyou^to go out with me.” He took a step toward her. “Tonight?”
“I can’t tonight, Rand.” This was going to send him screaming in the opposite direction. Though she knew it was probably for the best, she ached inside. “The Merlton Elementary School is having its annual Spring Sing, and my nephews are in it. So are all my after-school kids in there.” She indicated the group in the activity room. “I promised I’d go.”
It was beginning already, Rand thought, exasperation sweeping through him with tidal-wave force. The intrusive, never-ending demands of family interfering with his pleasure and convenience. This was no way to conduct a nostrings affair!
Forget it, he said to himself. It won’t work. The whole idea was doomed from the start. “The Merlton Elementary Spring Sing, eh?” He arched his brows. “You don’t want to miss that. And I wouldn’t ask you to.” Shrugging, he turned to leave.
“Rand.”
The sound of her voice stopped him cold.
“Would you like to come to the school program with me?” Jamie asked impulsively. It was, she realized discon-certedly, one of the very few times in her life that she’d acted on impulse.
“Yes,” he replied with such enthusiasm, it was as if she’d invited him into her bed instead of to an elementary school program.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been elated over the prospect of a simple date, but then, this was no ordinary date with a typical Rand Marshall woman. This was Jamie Saraceni, and he was gleefully aware that she’d just broken two of her cardinal dating rules—for him!
He hadn’t had to undergo her telephone clearance, and the separate-vehicle lunches had been preempted. He was making progress with this woman who had so artfully managed to madden and captivate him all at the same time.
A sudden shriek and the unmistakable sound of furniture being overturned in the activity room startled them both. The kitten meowed, reminding them of his presence and his needs. Reluctantly, Rand and Jamie parted to tend to their responsibilities, but not before Jamie gave Rand directions to her home in Merlton along with the time to arrive.
He left the library whistling a lively dance hit from a couple of years back. The lyrics extolled the excitement of knowing deep down inside he was breaking all the rules. He decided it was his theme song for tonight.
Five
It was still raining that evening when Rand parked in front of a small brick and frame house in a crowded residential section of Merlton.
Sometimes he stayed in the car and honked the horn to summon his date, particularly in inclement weather. Tonight Rand dutifully braved the torrent of blowing rain and walked to the front door.
Before he had time to press the bell, the door was flung open. He smile
d at Jamie’s undisguised eagerness. Oh, yes, she was thawing nicely, he congratulated himself. He wouldn’t have long to wait. If tonight wasn’t the night, she’d be in his bed by the weekend.
Except that it wasn’t Jamie who’d opened the door with such flattering speed. It was her cousin Saran.
Rand suppressed the small—extremely small, he assured himself—twinge of disappointment rippling through him. He bestowed his most charming, designed-to-induce-a-swoon smile on Saran. “Hi, is Jamie ready?”
Saran didn’t swoon. She gazed at him steadily. “I can’t believe you’re coming to this thing tonight,” she said bluntly. “The Merlton Spring Sing is just awful. Even parents dread going to it. Don’t you have anything better to do? Or are you that hung up on Jamie?”
Uncharacteristically, he had no ready answer to the questions. They were questions he didn’t dare to ask himself. It was a relief when an old woman, dressed all in black, joined them in the tiny vestibule.
“Hello.” She extended her small, blue-veined hand for him to shake. “I’m Mrs. Saraceni, Jamie’s grandmother.” “Mine, too,” interjected Saran. “So what if my dad was your nephew? You’re still my grandmother to me.”
“So what, indeed,” the old woman agreed amiably. “Who are you, young man?”
Rand quickly removed his hands from his pockets, corrected his slouch to a military straight posture and shook her hand. “I’m Rand Marshall, Mrs. Saraceni. I’m pleased to meet you,” he heard himself say in a tone and manner which would’ve pleased even his etiquette-obsessed parents.
The old woman’s piercing black eyes seemed to pin him to the wall. She was very clearly assessing him and didn’t care if he knew it.
“He’s the guy from the library, Grandma,” said Saran. “Not the wacko dentist who sent the balloons and candy et cetera,” Rand inserted swiftly, flashing a smile that had never failed to captivate and enthrall its female recipients.
Grandma shrugged. “Too bad. I wanted to meet that one. I particularly liked the milk chocolate butter creams he sent Jamie, and the candied almonds weren’t bad, either. For a dentist, he sure pushed the candy. I’m half tempted to make an appointment at his office just to see him for myself.” Jamie chose that moment to appear in a pair of loose-fitting pleated tan slacks and an indigo sweater that accentuated the vivid blue of her eyes. The casual clothes enhanced her neat figure, her full, high breasts, small waist and softly flaring hips. Rand swallowed. The initial attraction he’d felt for her was nothing in comparison to the desire he felt for her now. He stared at her, his body beginning to throb.
Rule Breaker Page 6
