by Teresa Hill
“And if that isn’t enough, I’ll talk to her. Just give me a call,” Wyatt offered, pulling out a business card and scribbling down a phone number on it. “My office and personal numbers. Feel free to call anytime, Jane.”
She pulled out a card of her own, wrote her private number on it and handed it over to him. Picking up his card, she saw Wyatt Addison Gray IV, attorney at law, with what she knew was a pricey downtown address.
“What kind of law?” she asked.
“Divorce.” His mouth twitched, trying to hold back what she suspected would be a mind-numbingly gorgeous grin. “I have to admit, it seemed to come naturally to me. I saw so many of them in my family as I was growing up.”
Jane nodded. “Me too. What was the longest marriage in your family?”
“Leo’s last one. Eleven years.”
“Wow. Impressive,” Jane declared. “We never managed to do better than six.”
Wyatt shrugged, as if to say, What are you going to do?
“I think we’re going to work together well to handle this little problem,” Jane told him, quite pleased with herself and Mr. Wyatt Addison Gray, Esquire.
“I do, too, Jane.”
Jane felt like a dynamo the next morning, charging through her routine with even more enthusiasm and effectiveness than usual. Powering through her morning kickboxing class, getting to the office early, proofing the copy for her latest ad campaign for her Fabulous Female Financial Boot Camp, even sketching out ideas for a series of advanced classes for women who’d mastered the principles laid out in the first seminar.
She felt like she could do anything.
Her assistant, Lainie, showed up at the usual time, looking puzzled at the way Jane rattled off a list of things she already needed Lainie to take care of.
“You didn’t have one of those energy drinks again, did you?” Lainie asked. “I told you, Jane, your system really can’t handle those. You’re already on overdrive. You don’t need the boost.”
“Of course not.” Jane looked puzzled. “After all, a well-rested, well-nourished woman doesn’t need artificial stimulants.”
She reached for her notepad, always close at hand, and started scribbling.
“Sorry,” she said, quite pleased with herself. “I need to write that down. I’m thinking about working on a book of my philosophies. Financial advice for women is such a nice niche market these days, and it would be a wonderful cross-promotion for my seminars. Don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Lainie said, still frowning.
“What?”
“It’s just that…you seem…happy.”
“I am almost always happy,” Jane insisted.
Lainie looked skeptical. “I think you might have been whistling when I walked in.”
Jane thought back. Had she been? And what if she was?
“How did things go with your grandmother yesterday? Did you meet this man she claims to love?”
“Oh, yes,” Jane said. “A complete cad, but Wyatt and I will take care of the situation.”
“Wyatt?”
“The man’s nephew. Wyatt Addison Gray IV. I have to say, I disliked him on sight as we sat down to dinner, but then we went across the street to this bar and had drinks afterward, and he was completely open and honest and reasonable. Altogether, a remarkable man.”
Lainie gaped at her. “You met a man you think is reasonable?”
Jane nodded.
“And honest?”
“I told you, a remarkable man,” Jane repeated even more emphatically than before.
“And you had dinner and drinks? Like…a date?”
“I date,” Jane insisted.
“Not in this calendar year,” Lainie reminded her.
“I’m just very selective about the men I find worthy of my consideration and time.”
Lainie’s bottom lip curled over her teeth, and she looked like she might bite herself to keep from replying to that, but finally gave up the battle and said, “And when you do, you don’t show up in the office whistling the next morning. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you and Wyatt Gray didn’t end things with dinner and drinks last night.”
“Of course we did. I would never take a man home with me that I’d just met, and going home with him would be just as risky and irresponsible.” And Jane never took irresponsible risks. “Besides, this wasn’t a date. It was dinner at the retirement park with Gram, Gladdy and Wyatt’s uncle, the cad. Assessing the situation we’re facing with them.”
“And the drinks afterward?” Lainie prompted.
“A place to talk without them present, where Wyatt and I found out that we’re in complete agreement that the relationship between his uncle and Gram has to be stopped. We plotted our strategy to make that happen.”
“Of course,” Lainie said. “I just got so excited when you said you met a man you think is reasonable.”
“Well, I’m sure there are a few of them in the world,” Jane admitted.
Granted, that might be considered a rather large concession on her part to the quality of men alive on the planet at this moment. But she did consider herself a reasonable woman, and a reasonable woman would have to concede that Wyatt Gray had not been what she’d first thought.
“I’ll even admit we had a very interesting and enlightening conversation,” Jane said, thinking she was being exceedingly reasonable and fair-minded now.
“Okay, tell the truth. He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” Lainie asked with a knowing gleam in her eyes.
“That had absolutely nothing to do with…anything,” Jane insisted, thinking, oddly, that she felt a little…tingly inside and just a tad overly warm all of a sudden.
How odd.
Lainie laughed.
“It didn’t,” Jane corrected. “You know I always say the worst thing in the world a woman can do, besides depend on a man financially, is to judge one by his looks. I would never, ever do that. In fact, the best-looking men are almost always the most spoiled and immature.”
It was true. She knew it. Long experience with the women in her family had proven it.
“We must be talking Greek God in a designer suit here,” Lainie claimed.
“He was beautifully dressed,” Jane admitted, again only trying to be fair.
And still, feeling that unusual, unsettling tingly warmth inside her.
“You know, I may be coming down with something,” she told Lainie. “Does it feel warm in here to you? Could you check to see if anyone messed with the thermostat?”
Chapter Four
Jane waited until Gram was at her regular tennis lesson two days later, because normally Gram and Gladdy were practically inseparable, and then went to do her duty, to save poor Gladdy from Wyatt’s ill-behaved uncle.
Jane pasted on a fake smile, walked into Gladdy’s room, and—
“Oh, my God!”
It looked like Gladdy and Leo were…necking on the love seat! Gladdy had her head on Leo’s shoulder, and his was bent over hers. When Jane burst in, Gladdy gave a start and her head popped up, banging into Leo’s forehead.
Jane stood there, astonished and really, really mad on both Gladdy’s and Gram’s behalf.
“Oh, Jane, dear, will you ever learn to knock?” Gladdy asked, practically giggling.
Giggling?
Jane worked herself up into a good, steaming rage and pointed her finger at Leo, who didn’t look guilty in the least over what he’d done. “You,” she said, advancing on him. “Get your hands off my aunt! Right now! Now!”
She’d beat him off with her briefcase if she had to. Jane lifted it up and back, preparing to take a swing.
Leo Gray stood up, all too slowly for Jane’s current mood, smoothed out his shirt, brushed back the bit of hair on the sides of his head and looked for all the world like he was the insulted party here.
“Girly,” he said. “You’ve got to learn to have a little fun.”
Jane’s mouth fell open.
Girly?
He’d c
alled her Girly!
“I’ll have you know that I am a twenty-eight-year-old adult woman! I am no girl,” she yelled after him, as he left Gladdy’s room. “I should have you arrested for this!”
“Arrested?” Gladdy said, taking her arm and pulling the briefcase out of her hand. “Jane, what are you doing?”
“I came to warn you about that awful man! Did he force himself on you? Tell me, because if he did, I’ll—”
“Leo Gray’s never had to force himself on a woman in his life,” Gladdy insisted. “I mean, have you looked at the man? I know you’re not seventy-five years old like me—”
“Gladdy, you’re eighty,” Jane reminded her.
“Shhhh. He doesn’t know that. A woman should never admit to her real age and never look her real age. There’s no reason to in these days. Speaking of which, Jane, darling, is it too much to ask for you to use that nice age-resistant face cream Kathleen and I bought you for Christmas? You have beautiful skin, dear, but you want to keep it that way. You’ll care about these things one day. At least, I pray that you will.”
“That I’ll worry about wrinkles one day? That’s what you pray for?”
“No, that you’ll learn how to enjoy a man and want to look your best for him.”
Jane sank down into the love seat Leo had just vacated, suddenly so tired and frustrated, she could have cried or screamed. That awful man!
“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked Gladdy.
“Of course, I’m all right. I’m better than I’ve been in years, in fact. Nothing like a fabulous man to make a woman feel young again. I think I’m going to get my hair done and have a facial. What do you say, Jane? A facial? My treat?”
Jane felt like she might turn into a stark raving lunatic at any moment. “A facial? Gladdy?”
“Good skin care is nothing to scoff at, Jane.”
“What about Gram? You love Gram. You always have, and she thinks she’s in love with that man, that awful man—”
“He’s far from awful, and Kathleen has never been in love in her life,” Gladdy insisted. “You know that. You know what the women in our family are like.”
“Yes, but she told me that she loves him. I’ve never heard her sound this way, and if she knew what the two of you were doing behind her back…Not even behind her back,” Jane remembered. “The other night, at dinner?”
“We were holding hands. It’s hardly a crime, hardly anything at all. What a prude you can be sometimes, Jane. I just hate that for you. I want you to be happy in every way, including having a man in your life.”
“Prude?” Jane was so hurt, she could hardly speak. Frustrated, infuriating tears filled her eyes. Prude? “I am not!”
“You’re objecting to hand-holding, my darling. If that isn’t prudish, I don’t know what is. I was holding hands with boys in first grade.”
Jane gasped, hurt. Prude? She opened her mouth to object again, and then realized if she didn’t get out of there right that minute, she was going to cry. And Jane Carlton never cried, especially in front of anyone!
“I…I…I have to go. I can’t talk to you about this right now,” she said, then got up and fled.
She was outside, hurrying down the walkway toward her car, not really watching as carefully as she should have been, when she literally ran right into Leo Gray.
“You,” she said, “Necking with my aunt? Behind my grandmother’s back! My grandmother who thinks she’s in love with you? You rat!”
He didn’t crumple or anything from the impact of their collision. The man was solid for his age. But then he grabbed her by the arms. She hated grabby men.
“Get your hands off me this instant!” she yelled.
“Calm down, girly,” he said, having the nerve to seem amused. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fall down.”
“I don’t need any help to keep from falling down. Let go of me this instant!”
She jerked herself away with everything she had, but he was stronger than he looked, and he didn’t let go. A haze of red came over Jane’s vision. She was so mad now, she couldn’t even see, couldn’t remember ever being this mad in her life.
It was all his fault!
Every bit of it!
Her grandmother would be brokenhearted. He’d been necking with Gladdy, Gladdy who’d called Jane a prude! And this awful man had the nerve to tell her she needed to relax?
Before she truly thought of what she was about to do, Jane pulled back the hand with her briefcase and got ready to whack him with it. She got the backswing in and was bringing her hand forward when, only then, her mind cleared just a bit so she could actually see what she was doing.
She was about to hit an old man.
A nearly ninety-year-old man!
“Oh, my God!” she cried, changing her mind right at the end of her backswing, as she started swinging her arm forward.
Could she stop it now? Was it too late?
And then she gasped as she was lifted off her feet—literally—and hauled around in the other direction.
Wyatt saw Jane and Leo having what looked like angry words, but he wasn’t really worried at first.
Then Leo put his hands on Jane, holding on to her.
Not the smartest thing to do, Wyatt was sure.
Then he saw Jane wind up to take a swing at Leo with her briefcase.
“Good God! Jane!” he yelled, barely getting to her in time.
He was in the wrong place to get between her and Leo. He was behind Jane. So he just put an arm around her waist, hauled her back against him and swung her around the other way.
Leo ducked and her briefcase went flying, landing harmlessly in the petunias in the flower bed to the right.
She screamed in pure outrage, like she was being mugged in a dark alley, kicking her feet in the air, her arms coming back to grab him. She hit him in the eye, then grabbed and thankfully got nothing but his hair. Afterward she took that handful of hair and yanked hard.
“Jane,” he hollered at first, because she wouldn’t have heard him over the racket she was making otherwise. “It’s Wyatt. Shhhh. I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”
He got another arm around her, this one across her hips, her body completely plastered against his as he spoke softly into her right ear. “Shhh. It’s all right.”
She stopped kicking out with her feet, stopped squirming and went still. Maybe that was even worse, because then her hips were pressed against his abdomen—sweet, curvy Jane hips. She was breathing hard, and as he lowered her to her feet, her whole body rubbed along his.
Damn, Jane.
She really would be outraged if she knew the direction of his thoughts at the moment.
He put her down and she turned around, right there in front of him, looking shocked, still more than a little mad, and all rumpled and…sexy.
Very, very sexy.
Her hair had come tumbling down from that well-disciplined knot she’d had it in yesterday. It tumbled about her shoulders and her face. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
A look of horror came over her face as she glanced from him to Leo to the crowd of retirees Wyatt now realized had come to watch this scene.
“Oh, my God!” she said, like she’d just woken up from a nightmare.
He took her carefully by the arms, to steady her and nothing more, not because he just needed to have his hands on her. “It’s okay,” he promised quietly, then turned and addressed the crowd. “Everybody’s fine here. Just a slight misunderstanding. Let’s all move along now. Nothing to see.”
Jane’s mouth fell open, and for a moment, it looked like she was going to hide her face against Wyatt’s chest to keep from having to see anyone. Not that he had any objections.
He had the feeling Jane Carlton very seldom, if ever, let herself really lose it like that, and while he wasn’t a man to condone violence, he had to admit, if any man could push a woman over the edge, it would be one of the Gray men. Leo pr
obably deserved to be whacked with much more than the briefcase.
His mouth twitched. He was aching to grin, but tried to maintain his stern facade as Leo came cautiously closer. Wyatt eased Jane’s face against him in a loose embrace, while she hid for a moment.
Over the top of her head, he mouthed to Leo, “What the hell did you do now?”
Leo shook his head, pretending an innocence Wyatt was sure was completely fake.
“Get out of here,” he mouthed.
Before he turned Jane loose on the man.
Wyatt waited until Leo was far enough away. He felt fairly certain Jane wouldn’t chase after him, if she saw him, and then reluctantly stepped away from her.
She was shaking and felt so tiny in his arms. “You okay now?” he asked.
When she finally lifted her head, she looked a bit dazed and still horrified. “I can’t believe I did that.”
Again, Wyatt had to fight not to grin, because she looked like she was confessing to mass murder.
“Leo’s fine,” he said. “Not a scratch on him.”
“I almost hit another person!” she cried. “An old man!”
“Now that would offend him terribly. Calling him an old man and thinking he was too frail to take you on in a fight.”
“I don’t fight!” Jane cried. “I can’t…I would never…I’ve always been devoted to nonviolent ways of settling disagreements. I abhor violence in any form.”
“An admirable principle,” Wyatt assured her.
“But I could have really hurt him. I mean, I take kickboxing and self-defense classes.”
Wyatt couldn’t help it. He chuckled at that.
Jane, kickboxing? It was laughable, given her size. If her little suits weren’t so severely cut, he’d swear she had to shop in the girl’s department.
“I could have hurt him,” she insisted. “I’ve had abused women go through my seminars. And every now and then, a man gets mad at the things I’ve taught a woman and shows up at the office. I thought it was important to learn to protect myself, that every woman should.”
“Of course,” Wyatt agreed. Mad men came looking for her? Pint-size Jane? He didn’t like the sound of that at all.
