by Lisa Jackson
“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.
“W
hat 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, t
he 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.
CHAPTER EIGHT
By the end of the week, Kimberly couldn’t wait to leave the bank. She hadn’t heard from Jake in two days, and she was surprised how often she thought of him, how much she longed to hear from him. And it wasn’t only because of the custody hearing looming in her future.
Sighing, she slapped a few papers in her briefcase and snapped it closed.
Outside, winter had landed full force on Portland. A storm had dropped six inches of snow on the city, tangling traffic and causing delays. Electrical outages caused commuter tie-ups and fender benders on the frozen streets. The bank’s messenger service had been crippled, and everyone’s nerves were at the breaking point.
Bill Zealander was the worst. Since the transfer of the Juniper account to Kimberly, he’d first complained loudly to Eric Compton, and when all his arguments hadn’t changed Compton’s decision, Zealander had begun to ignore her completely. Fortunately Kimberly had been kept busy dealing with Henry Juniper’s paranoia, and she couldn’t worry about Bill’s fragile ego. Not when Henry was convinced his sister Carole was getting into Daddy’s funds.
She’d deal with Zealander next week, she decided, yanking her briefcase from the desk. Maybe he’d cool down over the weekend. Then again, maybe he’d only be worse.
“Don’t borrow trouble,” she told herself as she joined the exodus to the elevators. The doors parted, and Jake sauntered through. His warm gray gaze landed on her, and her heartbeat instantly quickened. “Well, counselor,” she drawled with a smile, “what brings you here?”
“One guess,” he teased.
“I give.”
“You.”
Her spirits soared. What was it about him that touched her so? Wearing a ski jacket, sweater, insulated pants and Cheshire-cat grin, he took hold of her arm. “Taking off early?” he mocked.
“I pulled the early shift.” She grinned up at him. “And it’s been a loooong week.”
