Janice nodded.
“I’m glad you’ve agreed to go for the entire weekend,” he said quietly.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
They exchanged smiles, gazing directly into each other’s eyes. Then their smiles faded as the heat of desire began to churn, build, pulse.
The remembrance of the kiss they’d shared in Janice’s living room hummed in their minds and bodies.
Oh, dear heaven, Janice thought, she was being consumed by licking flames of heated passion that were like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
This was want and need in its purest and most honest form. This was Janice, the woman, desiring Taylor, the man, with an intensity beyond description.
How terribly dangerous this was, yet...yes, it was exciting, too, so very tantalizing, and new and wondrous. She was so alive and incredibly feminine.
Savor this, her mind whispered. She would tuck it away as a special memory, mark on a mental calendar the exact day, hour, minute she’d allowed her womanliness full rein as it awakened for this stolen moment.
But quickly now, she must return to who she was, who she must be to protect herself. Sleeping Beauty.
Janice tore her gaze from Taylor’s and stared into the amber liquid in the brandy snifter.
Taylor sat perfectly still, willing his aroused body back under his command. A trickle of sweat ran down his chest and his heart was beating with a wild tempo that was quieting slowly.
Lord, he thought, taking a swallow of brandy. How much time had passed while he was pinned in place by Janice’s mesmerizing eyes?
The restaurant had seemed to fade into oblivion, to be replaced by an eerie, sensual mist that had surrounded them.
Heat had rocketed through him, burning, raging out of control.
He wanted Janice Jennings.
It was as simple and as complicated as that.
Even more mystifying was that he knew it wasn’t just lust. It was more than that, much more.
There were emotions of protectiveness and possessiveness intertwined with his desire. Janice was so fragile, his little wounded bird, and he would protect and care for her, stand between her and harm’s way.
No one would ever hurt her again, cause pain like that which he’d seen in her expressive eyes. No one.
Sinclair, you’re losing it, he mentally fumed. He had to get back on track. Janice continually pushed his sensual buttons because...because she was so different from the women he knew.
She blindsided him. It wasn’t exactly earth-shattering, it was simply new, like an uncharted course, a road he hadn’t traveled down before.
There. That made sense.
But just to be on the safe side, he’d better end this outing before he leaped over the table, hauled Janice into his arms and kissed her senseless.
“Janice, are you ready?” he said, hearing the gritty quality of his voice.
Janice’s head snapped up and her eyes widened. “What?”
“To leave,” he added quickly. “Go home. We’ve covered everything we need to.” And then some. “Shall we call it a night?” A night he had a sneaking feeling he wouldn’t soon forget.
“Yes. Yes, of course.” She leaned over and picked up her purse from the floor.
“I’ll settle the check and we’ll be on our way,” Taylor said, attempting to produce a smile that didn’t quite materialize.
“Fine,” Janice said. “I want to thank you for the delicious dinner. Oh, and thank you for giving me and Sleeping Beauty so much thought, above and beyond the call of duty. I’m excited about the possibility of having a shop in Hamilton House. I hope I can reach an agreement that is satisfactory to Andrea, Brandon and me. Yes, it would be a sound business decision to—”
“Janice,” Taylor interrupted.
She got to her feet. “I’ll meet you in the lobby, Taylor.”
As Janice disappeared around the edge of the screen, there was no doubt in Taylor’s mind that the desire that had consumed him had staked a claim on Janice, too.
And that was a fact he would not, could not, take advantage of. Janice didn’t play, nor even know, the rules of the game. She was off limits, not his to have, nor to make love with.
Darkness had fallen by the time Janice and Taylor left the restaurant, and the sky was a brilliant canopy of twinkling, diamond-like stars.
“Oh, my,” Janice said, looking up at the spectacle of nature’s beauty. “Isn’t that gorgeous?”
Taylor stared at Janice’s profile, seeing the gentle slope of her throat and the outline of her delicate features.
“Yes,” he said quietly, still looking at Janice. “Beautiful. And not appreciated by those who don’t take the time to really see what’s actually there.”
“Mmm,” Janice said. “You’re right.”
The valet screeched to a halt in front of them, then jumped out of Taylor’s car, beaming.
“Cool car, man,” the boy said. He ran around the vehicle and opened the door for Janice. “Ma’am?”
Janice laughed softly as Taylor drove away from the restaurant.
“Ma’am?” she said. “That makes me feel ancient. That boy didn’t look old enough to have a driver’s license.”
Taylor chuckled. “He’s probably a student at Arizona State. The older I get, the younger everyone else appears to me.”
“I know what you mean.”
“My father is the one who is really having problems coming to grips with his age,” Taylor said, his smile changing into a frown. “He’s fighting this retirement thing. I’ve tried to tell him to give it a fair chance, because it has only been a few weeks.
“It worries me. If he doesn’t have the proper attitude, he’ll never adjust to his new life-style. He’s also dwelling too much on missing my mother and she’s been gone for fifteen years. He keeps thinking about the plans they had together for when he retired.”
“I hope he’ll learn to be content again,” Janice said. “Clem is a very nice man, very special.”
Taylor nodded. “That he is. He’s aged a great deal in the past year or so, though. I can see the differences in him. His heart condition has taken its toll, I’m afraid.”
“You love him very much, don’t you?” Janice said, looking over at Taylor.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Taylor paused, glanced quickly at Janice, then redirected his attention to the heavy traffic. “What about you, Janice? Your family?”
“I’m an only child and I never knew my father. My mother said he died while attempting to rescue some people from a burning building, but I don’t believe that.
“I don’t think my parents were ever married. There were no photographs, no mementos of my . father, and my mother didn’t wear a wedding ring. She claimed it was too sad to see that ring on her finger, knowing he was gone.”
“That sounds feasible to me,” Taylor said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.
“I suppose it does,” she said. “But I remember one time when my mother said my father had drowned while trying to save some swimmers caught in an undertow. She didn’t keep her lies straight.”
“Oh, I see. Does that upset you?”
“I really don’t care one way or the other.”
“And your mother?” Taylor said. “Where is she?”
“She was killed in an automobile accident when I had just turned twenty. She was in a car with... Well, that’s not important. She and...her companion had been drinking heavily. He...the driver...lost control of the car and slammed into a tree. They were both killed instantly.”
“Lord, Janice, I’m sorry,” Taylor said, frowning. “That’s rough.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she said, her voice flat and low. “People shouldn’t drink and drive. What they did was wrong.” She paused. “Very, very wrong.”
And there was something very wrong with this story, Taylor thought, narrowing his eyes. There was a cold edge to Janice’s voice that he’d never heard from her before.
She’d skittered ar
ound saying who was driving the car when the accident that had killed her mother occurred. There was definitely more to this tale than Janice was telling.
And now there was another piece missing from the puzzle that was Janice Jennings.
“So, you’re all alone in this world,” Taylor said. “What did you do on Christmas?”
“Christmas?” Janice said. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know. Christmas is such a familyoriented day. I just wondered if you were alone.”
“No, I celebrated with my neighbor, Shirley. She’s divorced and has no children, so we cooked a nice dinner together and exchanged gifts. It was very pleasant. Good heavens, Taylor, don’t view me as poor little orphan Annie. I’m very happy with my life exactly as it is.”
You could be lonely even as we speak and not even know it.
Was Janice lonely? he thought. And not aware that she was, because she’d been on her own for so long? Deep within her, perhaps unknown even to herself, did she yearn for a soul mate, a husband, a baby?
Now he was sounding like Brandon. Janice had her life set up exactly the way she wanted it, just as he did.
But then again, maybe she didn’t realize she was lonely because—
“Cripe,” he said, shaking his head in self-disgust.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh. Nothing,” he said. “I’m just not making any of the signal lights. They see me coming and turn red. But that’s fine. We’re in no rush.”
“No,” Janice said softly. “Not at all.”
“We’ll just take it slow and easy,” Taylor said.
But what beautiful Janice didn’t realize, he thought, was that he wasn’t talking about how he was driving the car.
Chapter Seven
Janice crossed the dark living room to snap on a lamp, sending a soft glow of light over a portion of the large room. She turned to see that Taylor was still standing just inside the closed front door.
“Your keys,” he said, extending them toward her.
“Yes, thank you.” She retraced her steps and took the keys. “Could I offer you something to drink, Taylor? I’m afraid I don’t have any liquor in the house, but I have soda, sun tea, or I could make a pot of coffee.”
“No, thank you,” he said, smiling. “The brandy and coffee did the trick.”
“Oh. Well. All right.” Janice paused. “Then I guess I’ll see you on Saturday. What time would you like to leave?”
“Ten o’clock? That would get us up to Prescott at the lunch hour. We’ll eat when we get there.”
“Fine.”
“Remember that it’s a lot cooler a mile high, so bring a sweater.”
“Fine,” Janice said, nodding.
“Well, I guess I’ll shove off.”
“Fine.”
Taylor frowned. “You sound like a broken record.”
“Yes, I guess I do,” she said, laughing. “Fine, fine, fine. That just goes to show you how easy I am to get along with.”
“Yeah, right,” Taylor said, chuckling and shaking his head. “If you leave out the fact that you’re the most complicated woman I’ve ever met.”
“Me?” Janice splayed one hand on her breasts, an expression of genuine surprise on her face.
“You, Ms. Jennings.”
“Well, you’re rather complex yourself, Mr. Sinclair,” she said, smiling.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” she said, shaking her head.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to sit down and have an in-depth discussion about all of this?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“That would not be a good idea.” Janice extended her right hand toward Taylor. “Thank you again for a lovely evening.”
“The pleasure was mine.”
Taylor looked at Janice’s hand, her face, then back at her hand. He gave it a quick shake, then started toward the door.
“Good night, Taylor,” Janice said softly.
Taylor stood with his back to her, one hand on the doorknob. One second ticked by, then two, then three.
“Ah, hell,” he said finally. “This is ridiculous.”
He turned around, closed the short distance between them and cradled Janice’s face in his hands. He gazed directly into her eyes for a long moment, then lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his.
Oh, thank goodness, Janice thought.
Taylor dropped his hands from her face to wrap his arms around her, nestling her close to his body. Her hands floated upward to encircle his neck, her fingertips inching into his thick hair.
He parted her lips to delve his tongue into her mouth, meeting her tongue in a stroking rhythm.
The kiss was ecstasy. It tasted of rich brandy, with a faint flavor of coffee. The kiss was heat exploding within them as desires soared. The kiss was theirs, and they savored every breath-stealing moment of it.
She didn’t want this kiss ever to end. That’s my second wish, little genie, Janice thought dreamily. Taylor felt so good, tasted so good, smelled so good, like soap and fresh air and man. He made her feel so feminine and alive. And so very, very special.
Taylor raised his head a fraction of an inch to take a rough breath, then slanted his mouth in the opposite direction as his lips captured Janice’s once again.
Nectar, he thought. Sweet nectar. Kissing Janice, having her pressed to his aroused body, was sending him up in flames. She was heaven in his arms, and he didn’t want to let her go. She was responding to him, totally, passionately, and it made him feel ten feet tall.
Oh, Lord, how he wanted to make love with this woman.
The demanding voice of reason began to hammer at Taylor’s mind, pushing its way through the sensual mist consuming him.
Slowly and reluctantly, he ended the kiss, gripped Janice by the shoulders and eased her away from his painfully aroused body.
Janice slid her arms slowly from Taylor’s neck and met his gaze, seeing the heated desire smoldering in his dark eyes and knowing the same want and need was reflected in her own.
Taylor took a step backward, then drew one thumb gently over Janice’s moist, slightly parted lips.
“I want you, Janice,” he said, his voice gritty with passion. “And you want me. That’s it, the honest bottom line. But I know, I just somehow know, that if we make love tonight, you’ll regret it in the morning, and I couldn’t handle that.”
“I...” Janice started, then for the life of her couldn’t think of another thing to say.
“When we do make love,” Taylor went on, “the time will be right for both of us. That’s the way it should be, has to be, because what we would share will be very, very rare and wonderful. So—” he brushed his lips over hers “—good night, Janice Jennings.”
“Good night, Taylor Sinclair,” she whispered.
Taylor left the house, closing the door behind him with a quiet click
Janice didn’t move. She simply stood staring at the door, her mind racing as her heart began to slow to a normal tempo.
I want you, Janice, her mind echoed. I want you, Janice.
She pressed trembling fingertips to her lips.
Was it true? Really true? A man like Taylor wanted to make love with her? Someone whose appearance was far from glamorous?
Yes, it was true, because she’d felt Taylor’s arousal when she’d been nestled close to his body, seen the desire reflected in his eyes. It was true, because he’d walked away, having said the time wasn’t right for them to take such a momentous, intimate step.
Dear heaven, how was this possible? she thought, shaking her head. Taylor was accepting her, wanting her, exactly as she was, without the sexy clothes, artfully applied makeup and wildly tumbling, seductive hair.
It was too much to comprehend all at once, she thought, moving her fingers to her temples. It was so confusing, so new and unbelievable.
Because it had never happened before in her entire life.
Since she was a small child, her beauty had bee
n everything, the measuring stick by which she was accepted or rejected.
True, Shirley was her friend with no questions asked, but that was far different from a man—from Taylor—seeing, wanting, the woman beneath the outer shell.
To her husband, even her own mother, she had been an object, a means to an end, that had resulted in the ultimate betrayal.
But now?
Now there was Taylor.
“Oh, God, this is so terribly complicated and confusing.” Janice said aloud.
A wave of total exhaustion swept through her. She felt drained, so weary she could barely put one foot in front of the other. She locked the door, turned out the light and went to bed, falling immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Janice sat on her patio and watched the pair of hummingbirds enjoying the syrupy breakfast she’d provided for them. They hovered and sipped, staying close together, taking turns at the feeder in a ritual known only to them.
How strange, she thought as she drank her tea. She’d previously viewed the delicate birds as separate entities. Now . she saw them as a couple, bonded for life, assured of the other’s pleasure, as well as their own.
Janice sighed.
She felt so unsettled, as though everything in her well-ordered existence was suddenly topsy-turvy, not as it had been. So much had changed so quickly because of the emergence of Taylor in her life.
She set the cup and saucer on the table and wrapped her hands around her elbows in a protective gesture.
The walls she’d spent years constructing around herself were weakening, slowly but surely being chipped away by Taylor.
That was so dangerous, so foolish and wrong. If she allowed this to continue, she’d be exposed, vulnerable, with no defense against heartbreak.
She wanted to run as far away from Taylor as she could, as quickly as possible.
Janice sighed again.
No, that wasn’t true. She wanted to stay, to be the recipient time and again of Taylor’s kiss, touch, his smile. She wanted to see the passion in his eyes, hear him say how much he desired her. Her. Just as she was. Janice the woman, the person, not Janice the beautifully decorated doll.
“Enough of this,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’m driving myself crazy.”
The Irresistible Mr. Sinclair Page 8
