He was a fool.
Rob watched as she went back into her house.
Time, space, distance.
Two weeks in Orlando didn’t seem long enough or far enough away to cool this fire he felt every time he so much as thought of Jess.
He knew of only one way to douse it, and douse it permanently.
“MOM-MY!” Kelsey came rocketing out of the kitchen door, bellowing at the top of her powerful little lungs.
“I’m right here, Kel,” Jess said mildly, “not down the block.”
“It’s really hot inside,” Kelsey said, following her inside, “and I couldn’t get the air conditioner to turn on.”
Jess cursed silently, setting her guitar down on the kitchen floor. It was hot in here. Carefully, she kept her face expressionless. Kelsey followed her down the hall to the thermostat for the central air system.
Jess tried every trick in the book, but couldn’t get the system to switch on. It made not a sound, not a wheeze, not a cough or a hiss. Sometime during her afternoon round of piano and guitar lessons, the ancient air-conditioning had finally gone belly up.
Kelsey’s face was worried. She knew more about their financial status than a six-year-old should. She knew Jess didn’t have the money for a repair of this magnitude.
Somehow Jess managed to smile at her daughter. “Help me open all the windows,” she said.
The outside air wasn’t any cooler, but with the help of the ceiling fan, it at least gave Jess the sensation of circulation.
“Are you going to call the repair guy?” Kelsey asked, catching her lower lip between her teeth.
It would cost sixty-five dollars just to get the repairman to come out. Before Jess called, she was going to make damned sure she couldn’t fix the thing herself.
“Maybe later,” she said. “Kel, why don’t you run down to Carlos’s house, see if he can play for a few minutes before dinner?” If she didn’t get Kelsey out of there, the little girl was going to follow her around, getting more and more worried.
As much as she liked playing with her friend, Kelsey hesitated. “Are you going to try to fix it?” she asked. “Maybe I can help.”
Jess hugged the little girl. “I’ll take care of it,” she said. “Don’t worry, all right?”
Unconvinced, Kelsey went outside. Jess watched from the deck until her daughter reached Carlos’s yard, then pulled a clean filter from the garage. Armed with the filter and the Swiss army knife she kept in her gigantic purse, she found the key to Rob’s apartment, where the filter duct was located.
Like a good landlady, she knocked loudly, even though she knew he was in Orlando. There was no answer and she unlocked the door.
The apartment was dark and quiet. And impeccably neat.
This was the first time she’d been over here since Rob had moved in, she realized. With the exception of the weight-lifting equipment stacked in the corner, the modestly furnished living room looked no different than it had after the last tenant moved out.
It was odd. He had put no knickknacks out, no pictures on the walls, no magazines or books on the coffee table. There was no dust anywhere, and the wall-to-wall carpeting looked as if it had been recently vacuumed.
The kitchen area was just as sterile. The counters were wiped clean and the stove was spotless. The sink had been recently scoured and a small, white dish towel hung neatly on the rack near the refrigerator. There was nothing personal here, either. There were no quirky magnets on the refrigerator, no calendar hanging on the wall, no food out on the counters.
Jess opened the cabinets. There was no food in there, either. The refrigerator held a six-pack of soda and a jar of peanut butter, some mustard and mayonnaise and salad dressing. But that was it.
The only thing in the freezer was a large plastic container. Curious, Jess pulled it out and opened one corner—and nearly dropped it on the linoleum floor. It was filled—filled—with money. Dollar bills. Big bills. God, there must have been more than twenty thousand dollars right there in that container. Maybe more.
What kind of man kept twenty thousand dollars in his freezer? Rob always paid his rent in cash, Jess realized. Maybe he didn’t use the bank. Maybe he couldn’t use the bank. Maybe he had something to hide. She put the money back, careful to leave it exactly as she found it.
The filter duct was in the bedroom closet, and Jess went into that room with somewhat shaken curiosity. If he kept twenty thousand dollars in his freezer, what was she going to find in his bedroom?
Again, there was nothing personal out on top of the dresser. A small bowl held some coins, but that was it. The bed was neatly made, covered by a bland, tan bedspread. Jess was disappointed. She’d been half hoping his bed would be covered by a zebra-striped comforter, or something with a big, bold tropical pattern.
She slid open the closet door.
She hadn’t really expected to find any skeletons or gruesome body parts in Rob’s closet, but what she did find was awfully mundane.
A dozen dress shirts hung there, still covered in plastic from the dry cleaners. Five or six pairs of pants hung next to the shirts, along with several business suits. Way in the back of the closet, in the corner, was a pair of worn-out hiking boots. One had fallen over onto its side—chaos and anarchy among all the neatness and order.
Unable to stop wondering about all that money, Jess pushed the clothes aside to access the air conditioner filter, and as she did, she caught a whiff of the fresh, tangy soap Rob used. Turning abruptly away, she crossed the room and opened both of the windows.
There was no breeze blowing. The outside air hung motionless and hot in the blazing afternoon sun. But with the windows open, at least she could pretend that she didn’t have to breathe in Rob’s unmistakable and very masculine scent.
Damn him for not wanting her, and damn her for wishing he did—for wishing he would hang some of these sweet-smelling clothes in her own crowded, messy closet.
It was probably just as well that Rob didn’t want to become involved with her, Jess told herself firmly. She didn’t need a secretive man with a violent past who kept more money than she made in a year in a box in his freezer.
She opened the screwdriver blade of her Swiss army knife and quickly unfastened the screws that held the metal air vent in place. The old filter slipped easily out. It wasn’t very dirty—certainly not enough to clog the system.
Still, she replaced it with a clean filter and reattached the metal grill.
Snapping the Swiss army knife shut, she gathered up the old filter and let herself out of Rob’s quiet apartment, careful to lock the door behind her. The cooling system’s compressor housing was on the side of the house, near Kelsey’s flower garden and the Greene’s porch. Leaning the dirty filter against the garbage shed, Jess stepped carefully over her daughter’s sun-baked marigolds and began opening the compressor housing.
“Is it broken, Miss Jess?”
“Hi, Stan,” she said, glancing up at her neighbor, who was leaning on the fence that separated their two yards. She’d been expecting him. He appeared nearly every time she worked out in the yard. “Well, it’s not working, that’s for sure.”
From what little she knew about engines and compressors, this one sure didn’t look good. It was black with grease and age and crud.
“Hot day.”
“Yes, it is.” Thank goodness for that fence. It was the only thing preventing Stanford Greene from coming into her yard and peering over her shoulder.
“I understand congratulations are in order,” he said.
Jess glanced up at him, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand in a vain attempt not to get engine grease on her face. “Congratulations for what?”
“Kelsey informed me that you are going to remarry.”
Jess straightened up. “You’re kidding.”
“She said you and your new tenant were making wedding plans.”
Jess swore softly under her breath. “I’m sorry. That’s not true,” she told
him.
Stanford watched her expressionlessly. “Mama always punished me severely when I lied.”
“Kel’s not lying,” Jess said. She crouched down and tried to wipe the grease from her fingers on the grass. “Not really. She just got too caught up in a fantasy world. When you’re six years old and you want something really badly, reality starts to blur.”
Stanford was watching her unblinkingly. Lord, what was she doing, attempting to explain her daughter’s forays into fantasy worlds with a man who was quite clearly and firmly anchored in a far-off world of his own?
“A lie is a lie,” Stanford said self-righteously.
“Not always,” Jess said, standing up and closing the compressor housing with a bang.
“Did you fix it?” Stanford asked.
Jess shook her head. “Nope. It’s dead, Jim.”
“My name is Stanford,” he said.
“I know. I was making a feeble joke,” Jess said. “Don’t you watch ‘Star Trek’?”
“Yes,” he said. Then he smiled. His teeth were crooked and yellow. “Oh. That’s what the doctor always says. I get it.”
“See you later, Stan,” Jess said, going inside the house to call the repairman—and watch the remainder of her checking account get flushed down the tubes.
THERE WAS GOING TO BE one hell of a thunderstorm tonight.
Jess had awakened at the first rumblings of thunder, and she stood now at her opened front door, watching the row of palm trees that lined the road shiver in the rising wind. A flash of lightning lit the sky to the west, and the sound of thunder grew more ominous. The first large drops of rain hit the ground as a car pulled slowly onto the street, its headlights streaks of bright in the darkness.
The rain fell, faster and faster, and the wind carried a wave of wet toward the screen. Jess pushed the window shut, then scrambled to check the other open windows in the house.
Lightning flashed again, and the thunder that followed was nearly instantaneous and deafening. She went into Kelsey’s room, but her daughter was fast asleep. It was true. Kelsey could sleep through anything.
Jess moved quietly back into the hallway. Another bolt of lightning lit the dark night, clearly illuminating her reflection in the mirror for a brief instant. Her eyes looked worried, her face somber.
The repairman had made it out to the house early in the evening. He didn’t have the part to fix the air-conditioning system right away, and the bad news didn’t stop there. It was going to take another two days, at least, to order the part. And the part and labor were going to cost around five hundred dollars.
Five hundred dollars.
A gust of wind shook the house, and the lights in the living room flickered, came back up, then went out, plunging Jess into total darkness. It covered her completely, smothering her.
Fighting a flare of panic, she groped her way into the kitchen and found the flashlights. Turning them both on, she carried them into Kelsey’s room.
The rain made a roaring sound as it fell hard on the shingles of the roof. But it wasn’t loud enough to mask a muffled thud from Rob’s apartment.
Jess frowned. Rob wasn’t home—he was in Orlando. Had she left a window open in his apartment this afternoon? She groaned, imagining the flood of water on the living room floor, or worse—on the bed.
She left one flashlight on in Kelsey’s room, checking to make sure the little girl was still sleeping soundly, then hurried to the kitchen door.
As she stepped out onto the deck, Jess was instantly soaked by the warm rain that was blowing in sheets. Lightning flashed and she jumped, spooked, and rushed for the door to Rob’s apartment. Her key stuck in the lock, and she jiggled it until it finally opened.
She closed the door, shutting out the rain and the wind, and flashed her light around the living room. The beam from the flashlight made the shadows of the furniture jump about grotesquely on the walls.
The living room window was tightly shut—she hadn’t opened that one this afternoon—so she went into the bedroom, heading for the window beyond Rob’s big bed.
But something made her turn her head back toward the other side of the room, and she froze, imagining a dark shape, a man, standing there. It’s a chair, she thought, or the closet door is open. Isn’t it?
Before she could aim her flashlight in that direction, lightning lit the room.
It was a man. The bursts of unearthly light reflected off the broad expanse of a muscular chest, and gleamed off a long, deadly-looking knife.
Jess swallowed a scream and dove across the bed, trying to reach the bedroom door first. She felt a strong hand grab her ankle, and she kicked out in panic as she realized he wasn’t going to let go. She swung the flashlight up toward where she imagined his face was, using it as a weapon. She connected with something solid, and the flashlight fell out of her hand, the light bouncing wildly as it hit the floor.
The hand still held her, and she shrieked as she felt herself pulled down off the bed and onto the hard bedroom floor. Her head hit the floorboards with a nasty crunch, but still she fought back.
Then the man’s heavy body was pressing down on top of her, and she could feel the coldness of his knife at her throat.
Rob, help, she thought, unaware that she spoke the words out loud.
“Oh, God,” the man said, his voice hoarse. The pressure from both the knife blade and his weight lifted, and Jess felt herself being gently picked up. “Jess… I’m sorry—”
She opened her eyes slowly as he placed her on the bed. Lightning flashed again, and she could see him leaning over her, dark hair falling over his forehead.
“Rob?” she breathed. Her head was spinning. That knife! The way he’d leapt at her—as if he were defending his very life. And what was he doing here? He was supposed to be away, in Orlando on business.
His eyes were slightly wild, and he was still breathing hard, but it was definitely Rob. His face was filled with concern. “God, I thought you were—” He broke off, shaking his head. “Someone else,” he finished inadequately. “Breaking in.”
He’d thought she was someone breaking in—maybe to take all that money he had in the freezer. Jess sat up, and the pounding in her head made her reel. Rob’s strong arms were there, holding her, pushing her back down against the pillows, but she resisted. She couldn’t deal with any of this right now. “Kelsey,” she said. “I can’t leave her alone for long. If she wakes up—”
She felt Rob’s fingers exploring her head, and tried to bite back a cry of pain as he found the bump.
“Oh, Jess,” he said again, “I’m so sorry.”
Lightning flashed, and despite her throbbing headache, she suddenly became aware of how tightly he was holding her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his eyes looked almost blue in the dim light. That was odd. Jess knew his eyes were brown. And where were his glasses?
Her gaze traveled down to his chest. Yes, just as she had speculated, he had the body of an athlete. He was solid, powerful-looking, his muscles well-defined.
And, oh, my Lord, he had a tattoo! Mild-mannered, bespectacled Rob Carpenter actually had a tattoo! Two tattoos! One was a snake, coiled, ready to spring, up high on his left arm, near his shoulder. The other was a sword. It, too, was on his left arm, but on the inside of his forearm, several inches above his wrist.
“You scared me to death,” Jess said softly. “Holding that knife like that…” Her mouth was dry, and she wet her lips nervously. She didn’t dare move. She could feel his heart beating hard in his chest, all too aware of her bare arms against his warm, smooth skin, his lips only inches from hers. She remembered the way those lips had felt against hers.
“You scared me, too,” he admitted just as softly. He, too, didn’t move. He just looked at her.
The spell seemed to last forever, until a loud clap of thunder made Jess wince with pain.
“I’d better get you some ice,” Rob said. He moistened his lips slightly, and his gaze travelled down to her mouth.
> Lord, she wanted him to kiss her. Lightning flashed again, lighting his face.
“What color are your eyes?” Jess breathed.
He pulled away from her then, breaking free from her gaze. “Brown,” he said abruptly, turning away. “I’ll get you that ice.”
He went out of the bedroom, fast.
After a moment, Jess stood up, holding on to the headboard with both hands to steady herself. Her flashlight was still on the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, her head swam and she couldn’t keep her balance. She swayed and crumpled to the floor.
Rob was by her side in an instant, and he scooped both Jess and the flashlight up into his arms. She could feel the cold of the ice pack pressing against her bare leg. It was an odd sensation. His hands and arms were so warm, the ice so cold.
“I’ve got to go to Kelsey,” Jess said.
“I know, sweet,” he murmured, carrying her easily out into the living room. “Hang on,” he added, as he opened the door onto the deck.
It was still raining hard enough to soak them both as Rob carried her the twenty-odd feet from his door to hers. He wrestled her kitchen door open and brought her inside, closing the door behind him with his foot.
He carried her swiftly into her bedroom, laying her gently on top of her bedspread. Grabbing a towel from the bathroom, he gave it to her so that she could dry herself off.
“I’ll check on Bug,” he said, leaving the flashlight with her.
The light from the flashlight was looking a little wan. It flickered, making the shadows of Jess’s four tall bedposts jump and leap around the room. She struggled to sit up, wincing as she put the ice against her head. There were candles in the kitchen. But right now that seemed so very far away.
“Kelsey’s fine—sound asleep.” Rob came back into the room. “Jess, lie down,” he said. “What do you think you’re doing?”
No Ordinary Man Page 7
