Natural Attraction

by Marisa Carroll

  “Your ex-husband?”

  Kerry nodded shyly. “He wants us to come and visit him. He hasn’t seen the boys since Peter was ten months old. He has a job in San Francisco, a nice apartment….”

  Jessie began pleating the skirt of her teal-blue shirtwaist, then made herself stop the nervous gesture. She was having trouble keeping track of her thoughts. It seemed Kerry was talking about seeing her ex-husband again. But what about Mark?

  “I’ve learned an awful lot about myself these past couple of months. You’ve been a big help, Jessie.”

  “Me?” Jessie was genuinely surprised by the last twist the conversation had taken. A little more of the fuzzy champagne haze cleared from her brain.

  “Yes, you. You’ve shown me just how successful a woman can be alone. I’ve looked at my own behavior a lot differently lately. I still don’t want to be assertive and domineering….” Jessie thought she detected a gentle note of criticism in the words, but ignored it. “But I realize I didn’t contribute in my relationship with David. I let him shoulder all our burdens. I wanted him to take care of me. That was wrong. Marriage should truly be a partnership. I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain. I wasn’t there for him when he needed me.”

  Jessie found herself stirring the herb dip with a serving spoon. The room revolved slowly around her whenever she looked up, so she concentrated on the green-speckled dip. Kerry was telling her something very important but all Jessie could understand was that Mark was going to have his heart broken again. His name on Kerry’s lips halted her useless agitation of the sour-cream-and-chive concoction.

  “Mark’s been marvelous to me these past weeks. I don’t think I can ever repay him for his kindness.” Jessie looked up in time to see the enchanting blush steal over Kerry’s high well-defined cheekbones.

  Jessie dropped the spoon. A dollop of sour cream landed with a slight plop on the teal-blue silk, just above her heart. She tucked in her chin to stare at it mournfully. They were lovers and now Kerry was going to leave him to be reunited with her ex-husband. Poor Mark.

  “He’s such a wonderful, caring, gentle man. He’d take care of me for the rest of my life. But suddenly…I’m not sure that’s what I want any longer. And I think I should explain….”

  “He is a gentle, caring man.” Jessie said into thin air. “And passionate.” She could have bitten off her tongue once the words were out.

  “Well, yes…” Kerry agreed, nonplussed. “I only hope…”

  “Kerry, I have to get this sour cream off my dress before the stain sets. How stupid of me to be so clumsy.” Jessie continued to ramble as she dabbed at the stain with a paper towel from the holder near the stove. She had to get away from Kerry. She needed fresh air to clear her whirling brain.

  “I’ll help,” Kerry offered.

  “No, please excuse me.” Jessie made a move for the outside door but never got more than a foot from the counter before the swinging door opened again.

  “Grand Central Station,” Jessie muttered to herself. Before her, Mark held Kerry’s youngest son in a gingerly fashion.

  “Poopie, Mom.” Peter grinned, showing a mouthful of tiny, sharp white teeth.

  “Oh, Petey. Why didn’t you tell Mommy you had to go potty. I thought you were a so-big-boy now,” Kerry scolded, shaking a pearl-tipped finger under the child’s nose. He grinned unrepentantly.

  “Gross,” came the succinct reply. Nell had drifted in to survey the scene. “I’ll show you where you can change him, Mrs. Bay,” she said politely, catching Jessie’s eye. She was dressed in a pair of violet, slim-legged dress pants, a lacy pale-orchid blouse and angora pullover in a darker shade of orchid. She was not quite as ready to dress up as the twins in their complementing thirties-style jersey dresses but looked very grown-up all the same.

  “Thanks, Nell. You look very nice in that color. So grown-up.” Kerry echoed Jessie’s sentiments easily, taking the little boy from Mark’s arms. “How old are you now, Nell?”

  “Thirteen and a half. Almost,” Nell added the conditional rider.

  “Old enough to baby-sit, are you?” Kerry inquired meaningfully as Nell preceded her out of the kitchen.

  “I sure am.”

  “Whew,” Mark said with real feeling. He surveyed his wet sleeve with a jaundiced eye.

  Jessie turned back to the counter. “You’d better go back with the others. Mom and Hi will be cutting the cake as soon as I get out there with the camera.” Jessie looked around distractedly. “Good Lord, where is my camera?”

  “I believe I saw it on the mantelpiece,” Mark replied, moving several steps closer.

  “Yes, you’re right.” Jessie darted to the left, sidestepping his tall, imposing figure. She stopped short. “Oh, darn, I forgot this damned stain.” The pleasant daze of alcohol was wearing off. Jessie wished she had another glass, but the bottle was empty.

  “Let me help.” Mark’s voice was a raspy baritone that acted so potently on her senses. Immediately the half-dizzy feeling returned.

  “Anything else to go out to the buffet table?” Lyn asked from the pass-through. She gave Mark a friendly smile.

  “Just this tray.” Jessie pointed to the offending veggies. She wasn’t about to touch it again. Mark scooped it up, handing it to Lyn. “I’ll be out in a minute to take the pictures. I have a spot on my dress,” Jessie explained with exaggerated care.

  “You should have worn that awful old apron, not Grandma,” Ann said wisely as she joined her sibling at the opening in time to accept the dish of herb dip from Mark. “She was right about getting something on her dress.” She eyed her mother’s stained gown leniently. “Move your corsage over to cover it. Nothing will show in the pictures that way.”

  They were gone. Suddenly, in a house filled to bursting with people, Jessie was totally alone with Mark.

  “We have to talk, Jess.” He was tired of playing Mr. Nice Guy. Jessie needed a firm hand on the reins. He’d figured that out. She’d run him ragged otherwise.

  “Not now, Mark. There are so many things going on,” Jessie answered the challenging statement repressively.

  “Someplace private,” Mark plowed on. “Now.” There was so much they needed to settle between them. His patience was at an end. “Lead the way.”

  “Yes, sir, Colonel. Will my darkroom do?” Jessie mumbled contrarily but her eyes sought deep into his. Mark kept his gaze deliberately non-committal. He wasn’t going to take the chance of scaring her off again or setting off her unpredictable temper, either. That had happened too often in the past. He had to work fast. He couldn’t count on more than a few minutes alone with her.

  In the converted pantry Jessie switched on a dim overhead bulb and went directly to the mirror over the deep, old-fashioned double sinks. She began to unpin her corsage but her fingers felt like sticks of wood.

  Mark brushed her fingers away and pulled out the balky long-shafted florist’s pin. “Where do you want this?” His gaze was bold and heated. Silver flecks were shot through the blue depths. Jessie felt the swirling currents of desire between them. Fascination snagged her will, held her still, when she knew she should be running for the living room as fast her legs would carry her.

  Jessie licked dry lips. “Just move it to the other side. To cover the stain.” She wished her voice didn’t sound so breathless and whispery.

  Mark’s fingers brushed the skin of her throat as he pushed aside the collar. Jessie shivered in pleasurable anticipation. She’d missed his touch so desperately. She wondered miserably how long it would take her to adjust to living without it. Probably the rest of her life.

  “There.” Mark stepped back to survey his handiwork. “All hidden. No one will ever know how careless you were.” Was there strain in Mark’s voice despite the light tone of the quip? Jessie wanted to believe there was. And not because he was embarrassed to be alone with her. His fingers lingered on the swell of her breast for a fraction of a second longer. A fine tremor coursed through his hand.

  Je
ssie took a deep breath. She had to know. The question was eating a hole inside her. Kerry had hinted she was assertive and domineering. Well, she would be. Jessie came out with it point blank.

  “Are you Kerry Bay’s lover?”

  “What?” Mark seemed genuinely surprised. His finger brushed over the petals in her corsage with deliberate restraint. His eyes widened a moment, then narrowed in contemplation.

  “Why do you ask that, Jessie?”

  “Because I care about you a great deal. If Kerry can give you what you want—a home, your own children, love—then I won’t stand in your way.” Jessie didn’t feel particularly gallant as she said it. She felt like crying. “But don’t keep doing this to me, Mark, please.” She snapped her mouth shut before she gave herself away even more. She hadn’t said she still loved him but she might as well have.

  “Doing what?” he queried softly.

  “This…” Jessie waved her hand agitatedly between them, blurting out the word in pain and growing anger. He couldn’t be that dense. He was baiting her. “Being so close…touching you…” she ended lamely, dropping her gaze to the knot of his discreetly patterned gray-and-black tie.

  “Do you mean saying ‘I love you,’ then asking you for commitments you can’t make?” Mark’s voice was even and low, but his words demanded an answer.

  “Yes.” Jessie’s chin came up. Pride gave her the courage to continue. “Oh, Mark. I’m not noble. I can’t stand it any longer. Do you love Kerry?”

  “I do care for her as you said,” Mark replied with equal honesty, “but not in that way, Jess.”

  “You aren’t sleeping with her?” If he was sleeping with Kerry it would mean he was committed. She knew him well enough to be sure of that. Causal sex wasn’t his style. She was scared to death to hear what he had to say, but equally afraid not to ask.

  “No.” The answer came directly on the heels of her question.

  “You didn’t try to seduce her with curried lamb and Amaretto mousse?” Jessie was suspicious now. That teasing, sparking glint of private amusement was in his eyes. She bristled. “’Fess up.”

  “I was afraid you’d figure that one out.” Mark looked down at his hands. Somehow they’d captured and held Jessie’s small, pale ones. She felt so good. He was having trouble concentrating on anything but her, but time was running out. Someone was probably looking for her already.

  He took a quick deep breath. It was heady with the fragrance of her hair, piled in soft curls on top of her head. There were roses and baby’s breath twisted in the shining mass. Her skin was soft and cool. “Kerry seemed to expect it of me,” he said with patently false innocence. He had to keep this stage of the proceedings as light as possible, but it was the hardest task he’d ever set himself. He needed Jessie in a responsive mood for the second, most important stage of the negotiations.

  “Mark Elliot, you don’t expect me to believe she seduced you?” Spirit returned to light Jessie’s expressive face from deep within.

  “Well, not exactly,” He grinned sheepishly. One dark brow quirked upward, meeting a wave of thick black hair on his forehead. “I thought I needed to change with the times, Jess. And I was hurt.” His words were serious now. “I admit I needed the ego boost. I could have made love to Kerry numerous times, but you were always there before my eyes. I couldn’t do that to her or to myself. It made me so damn mad those first few weeks, having you there between us like a ghost. Maybe that was part of the reason I let it go on so long. I don’t know.” He shrugged broad shoulders. The rustle of his fine wool suit was loud in the quiet of the old pantry. “Then Halloween night, when you tripped over your own two feet—”

  “It was that damn cloak,” Jessie said, defending herself.

  “It doesn’t matter. I only knew I had you in my arms again. It was no use trying to pretend any longer that I was over you.”

  “Then Kerry started having problems with the IRS,” Jessie said, drawing her own conclusions.

  “She needed support. Her dependence was flattering but physically, things just never worked out—so to speak.”

  “Details,” Jessie pressed boldy, sensing an advantage.

  “Maybe I am too old to make love in the back seat of cars?” Jessie seriously doubted that, but didn’t voice the conviction aloud. “I did intend to spend that night with Kerry, to lay my own demons to rest, to get you out of my system.”

  “But…” Jessie prodded hopefully.

  “Peter developed a croupy cough and Nathan had nightmares…. Kerry lets him sleep with her when he cries at night. I figured there wasn’t room for both of us in her bed,” Mark added laconically. “Psychologically speaking, don’t you believe that’s damaging for a small child, Jess?”

  Jessie didn’t answer. What precisely was he trying to tell her.

  “Kerry’s young and vulnerable. She needed help and guidance. I’m a sucker for damsels in distress. I probably always will be,” Mark admitted with endearing honesty.

  “An officer and a gentleman,” Jessie said musingly, the anger dying out of her tone.

  “I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m too old to take on Kerry and her problems. I want a woman who I can relate to in more than a physical way, who looks at the world the way I do.” He had to talk fast. He never got more than ten minutes alone with Jessie. With all the extra people in the house tonight, the odds were against even that long. “Jessie…”

  “Mark—” Jessie pressed a finger to his lips, forestalling what he’d been about to say “—it won’t do either of us any good to drag this out further. I love you, I probably always will, but I haven’t changed my mind. I’ve made peace with myself. Perhaps I didn’t articulate my feelings very well on the subject, but I still don’t want to have more children….”

  Mark pulled her close, avoiding the corsage on her breast but fitting their lower bodies together so intimately that Jessie gasped. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Jess. I have—”

  “Jess! Where are you? Mom and Hi want to cut the cake. We need you for the pictures.” Tim’s voice cut across Mark’s words.

  “Damn it!” Jessie had never heard him swear quite so forcefully before. He released her. “We’ve got to do something about all the interruptions in this house, Jess. I didn’t even get a chance to kiss you. We’ll discuss this later.” It was Colonel Elliot speaking again. Mark ran a agitated hand through his dark hair, waving her ahead of him out of the old pantry into the brightly lighted kitchen and the duties that awaited her there.

  THE NEXT FORTY-FIVE MINUTES passed in a kind of blur for Jessie. It was almost as though someone had smeared Vaseline on her camera lens, giving everything that hazy out-of-focus look that was usually referred to as romantic. To Jessie it was merely confusing.

  At one point, during a lull in the fesitivities while Tim was rearranging the living-room furniture to accommodate dancing to the big-bands’ stereo records he’d chosen to honor the newlyweds, Jessie noticed Mark and Kerry were gone. She felt a sharp tug of anxiety around her heart.

  Had Mark changed his mind about the lovely young woman? Had something occurred other than the fact that Kerry had caught Marta’s bouquet—thrown from the half landing—to push Mark back into her arms? Something like the fact that they hadn’t settled anything back there in her darkroom? Was Mark simply fed up with competing for her attention?

  Two more glasses of champagne hadn’t done anything to curb her overactive imagination, Jessie decided self-derisively as she chatted near the cake table with Aunt Lettie and Reverend Armstrong. What had Mark been going to tell her when they were interrupted? There were so many possibilities that she surreptitiously refused to let her heart or mind dwell on the most wonderful discovery of all.

  He still loved her. He wanted to work out the differences. That meant compromise in Jessie’s book, and for her there could be no compromise on the issue of having a baby. Her spirits plummeted again. She had another glass of champagne.

  Jessie was dancing with
Hi to an old Glenn Miller record when Mark materialized at her new step-father’s shoulder. He dwarfed Hiram, who graciously relinquished Jessie into the younger man’s arms. Mark pulled her close. His suit jacket was still cold from the November night air and a few melting snowflakes dotted the dark wool. Jessie wondered vaguely when it had started snowing. Held tightly against his chest, Jessie could feel the heat of his body reach out to enfold her.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jessie caught sight of her mother in the arms of the Reverend Armstrong. Tim and Helen moved slowly beside them. In a corner of the couch pushed up against the bay window, the twins kicked off their shoes and curled up, giggling merrily, maybe at the choice of music or maybe for other more private reasons. Jessie wondered dreamily if they’d been sampling the champagne behind her back. She’d have to have a talk with them in the morning about the dangers of alcohol, she decided before giving up to the purely sensual pleasure of being held in Mark’s arms.

  “I missed you,” she said in dreamy contentment.

  “I had to take Kerry and the boys home. It was past their bedtime. Seems like they’ve lost their regular baby-sitters of late.” He glanced over at the twins.

  “Their idea of playing Cupid,” Jessie murmured, enlightened. “Did it work?” She cocked her head and searched the rugged contours of his face.

  “It didn’t hurt,” Mark admitted with a grin. “Guerrilla tactics, pretty ingenious. A twelve o’clock curfew for a man my age is pretty offsetting.” He changed the subject, “Kerry’s going to have a long day tomorrow.”

  “Really?” Jessie didn’t care about Kerry Bay any longer, but curiosity died hard even when you were tipsy on champagne.

  “Really.” Mark looked down at her indulgently. He pulled her closer, ignoring the interested glances of Jessie’s relatives and offspring. He’d have to get used to it. Privacy was going to be a scarce commodity in their marriage. “They’re leaving for California to visit the boys’ father.”

  “Flying?” One word replies worked best, Jessie had found. Her tongue didn’t seem to have as much trouble with them.