That McCloud Woman

by Peggy Moreland

  He groaned and scrubbed harder at his face, then dug his fingers through his hair as he straightened, as if in doing so he could rip the memories from his mind. He didn't want to remember. He wanted to forget. It was the only way he knew to survive.

  Setting his jaw, he braced his hands against the edge of the sink and peered through the kitchen window at the darkness beyond. The Pond House stood in the distance, its windows dark, its occupants sleeping. It's the kids, he told himself, his gaze going to the second-story windows and to the bedrooms where he knew they slept. They were the ones who were keeping the memories alive by reminding him of all he'd lost. Molly with her sweet, cherubic face, and the unselfish gift of her bear. Billy with his devilish pranks and false bravado, his desperate need for a father's guidance.

  In spite of Jack's determination to ignore them, they were getting under his skin and dangerously close to his heart.

  He shifted his gaze to the first floor, and to the window of Alayna's bedroom. He curled his fingers against the edge of the chipped porcelain sink. The woman who cared for those kids was doing her own part in threatening his sanity. Warm, compassionate, loving. She was beginning to make him yearn for things that could never be.

  He had to get out of here, he told himself, and turned away from the window. And the quicker the better.

  But first he had to finish the job he'd started.

  He'd given his word.

  Jack didn't consider himself a thoughtful man, or a generous one, for that matter. The idea of giving a woman a present rarely passed through his mind. But on this particular morning, as he made the short walk to the Pond House, a gift was what pressed uppermost on his mind. Though the gift he was considering had no monetary value, to his way of thinking, it was priceless.

  Before he left, he was going to give Alayna back her sexuality, her self-confidence.

  How he was going to go about giving her this gift, he wasn't exactly sure. But he'd figure out a way. He owed her. Well, maybe not him, exactly. The debt wasn't so much his, as it was life's. And life owed her big time.

  Alayna was a kindhearted woman, who, in his estimation, had gotten a raw deal. She had a heart filled with love and kindness, and she seemed hell-bent on offering that kindness to every stray that showed up at her door.

  Including him.

  But what she really wanted—and needed, in Jack's opinion—was a houseful of kids of her own. He knew that she wanted children. She'd told him so herself. But she'd never have those children if she didn't get over this crazy notion that she was no good at sex.

  When he approached the kitchen door, he feared there might be an awkwardness between them, considering how the night before they'd touched on that one subject that seemed to cause her so much embarrassment. But she met him at the door with the same smile she had greeted him with every other day since she'd hired him.

  "Good morning, Jack!" She held the door wide and looked up at the sky, her eyes shining with appreciation. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"

  It could have been storming for all the notice Jack had given the weather. He glanced up to find a clear blue sky, its radiant color broken only by wisps of clouds threaded through. But all he noticed was that the sky was almost the same hue as Alayna's eyes. He dropped his gaze to hers, to verify his assumption. "Yeah. It's beautiful all right."

  She waved him in. "You're early. The kids haven't even left for school, yet."

  Jack shook his head as he caught the door and followed Alayna inside. He hadn't realized until that moment that she'd been aware of his carefully staged arrivals at the house in order to avoid being around the kids.

  He held up the bear. "I thought Molly might want to take Teddy to school with her."

  Alayna's lips parted in surprise. "Jack. How sweet. Just a minute," she said, and turned. "Molly!" she called. "Someone is here to see you."

  "Who?" But before Alayna could answer, Molly was barreling into the kitchen, her cheeks as pink as the new tennis shoes she wore. Billy was fast on her heels.

  Molly skidded to a stop when she saw Jack, her eyes going wide. But this time Jack found no fear in them. He sank down to one knee in front of her and held out the bear. "Thanks, Molly, for the loan."

  Hesitantly she reached out to stroke the bear's face. "You can keep him, if you want."

  His heart in his throat, Jack pressed the bear into her hands, then crooked a finger to smooth a knuckle against her cheek. "Thanks for the offer, but I think Teddy misses you."

  A slow smile spread across Molly's face. "Really?" She held Teddy out and looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and awe. A horn honked and she quickly tucked the bear under arm. "That's Jaime," she said with a sudden rush of breath. "He hates it if we make him wait." She popped a quick kiss on Jack's cheek, then whirled and raced for the front door. "Bye, Alayna. Bye, Jack," she called over her shoulder.

  Billy hooked his backpack over his shoulder. He gave Jack a high five, then grinned. "See ya, dude."

  Jack slowly rose, watching the two disappear. "Yeah," he murmured, touching a shaky hand to his cheek and the kiss Molly had left there. "See ya."

  Jack worked alongside Alayna throughout the morning, painting one of the upstairs bedrooms—and watched her out of the corner of his eye.

  He hung a new clothes rod in the closet he'd enlarged—and frowned at her back.

  He snatched up his paintbrush again—and all but screamed his frustration.

  He couldn't help himself. The only way he could think to prove to Alayna that she wasn't sexually deficient, was to seduce her, and he wasn't willing to go that far. Besides, even if he was willing, Alayna didn't appear to be the type of woman who would tumble into bed with a man just for the sport of it. And he sure as hell didn't want her drawing any false assumptions from his actions. He cared too much for her to want to do anything that might cause her pain when the time came for him to leave.

  And Jack was leaving. Just as soon as he finished the remodeling job … and as soon as he figured out a way to give Alayna the gift he wanted to give her.

  He glanced her way and frowned. She sure as hell wasn't helping matters any. Throughout the morning, she had worked alongside him all innocence and smiles, telling him stories about her childhood, and throwing in funny little things that Billy and Molly had said or done over the weeks. And the more she talked and smiled, the madder Jack became. How was a man supposed to broach a woman about her sexuality when she was acting like Little Miss Mary Sunshine?

  Finally, after three hours of silently stewing, waiting for an opportunity that didn't come, Jack slapped his brush across the top of the open can of paint and left it there.

  Alayna turned to peer at him curiously. "Problem?"

  "No," he snapped irritably. "Paint's getting thick. Needs some thinner."

  He stepped behind her, and out of her line of vision, then folded his arms across his chest and glared at her as she gave her shoulder a "whatever" lift then went back to her painting. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out a way to approach her, or why he felt this undeserved anger toward her. It wasn't as if she knew what he was wanting to do.

  It's the clothes, he finally decided, needing to put the blame for his anger somewhere. She was wearing a man's tailored shirt again, and those same baggy pants she'd worn the first day they'd worked side by side in the breakfast room.

  He frowned as he moved his gaze over the baggy shirt, noting the perspiration that dampened the fabric between her shoulder blades and dotted the bumpy line of her spine. With the air-conditioning off and the open windows letting out paint fumes, but letting in heat, she had to be sweltering under all that garb.

  Hell, he was, and he'd stripped off his shirt hours ago!

  But then Alayna always wore a lot of clothes, no matter what the temperature. Those stupid, shapeless dresses that covered her from neck to calf. The baggy shirts and pants. Nothing he'd ever seen her in offered a hint to the woman beneath. Well, other than that blue robe of hers, but he
didn't figure that counted in the scheme of things, since he'd only seen her in it that one time.

  But the fact that she was always covered from neck to toe didn't prevent him from remembering what she felt like beneath all those clothes. The feel of her breast in his hand, small, but firm, her nipple, when aroused, as hard as a ripe berry.

  And her taste. He ran his tongue over his upper lip at the memory. Sweet. Innocent. Yet, hot and carnal. An unlikely combination, but there, all the same.

  And she considered herself lacking in the sex department. Humph!

  He narrowed his eyes at her, wondering if her choice of clothing had anything to do with the image of herself that her ex had left her with.

  "Why do you wear so damn many clothes?" The question was out before he realized he'd even intended to voice it.

  Startled by his question, she twisted her head around to look at him, then lifted a shoulder and went back to her painting. "Why advertise if you have nothing to sell?"

  "Who said anything about advertising or selling? I'd think you'd be more comfortable, not to mention cooler, if you dressed in something with a little less—well, with a little less fabric," he said in frustration.

  "I'm comfortable."

  "Yeah, and you'd be a hell of a lot more comfortable if you weren't so damn stubborn." He caught her by the shoulder and spun her around. Caught unsuspecting, Alayna dropped her brush and braced her hands against his chest, struggling for balance.

  When he reached for the hem of her shirt, her mouth and eyes gaped wide. "What are you doing?" she cried.

  "What you won't do." He unbuttoned the bottom four buttons, then quickly caught up the shirt's tails and tied them in a knot under her breasts. He stepped back, eyeing the results, then dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his knife.

  Her eyes widened even more as she watched him snap open the blade with the flick of a nail. "What are you—" But before she could fully voice the question, he had a hold of her wrist, pulling her arm out to shoulder level. "Giving you some air." Catching the fabric at her shoulder and holding it out away from her skin, he stuck the knife into the seam and ripped upward, making a good-size slit in the cotton. Ignoring her cry of dismay, he kept a grip on the sleeve while he calmly pressed the backside of the blade against his thigh and closed his knife. He slipped it back into his pocket, then, without warning, gave the sleeve a hard jerk, ripping the fabric and severing the sleeve at the seam.

  He felt the shiver that shuddered through her and watched gooseflesh pebble the patch of damp skin he'd exposed to the air. He shifted his gaze to hers, then slowly dragged the sleeve down her arm, watching her blue eyes darken and smolder. He dropped the torn fabric to the floor. "Better?"

  With her arm free now, Alayna rubbed a hand up and down it, but was unable to move her gaze from Jack's. Never in her life had she endured anything as sensual, as utterly seductive, as what she had just experienced at his hand. Though he'd exposed only one arm, she felt naked, bare, utterly aroused … and as tongue-tied as a schoolgirl. "Y-yes, th-thank you."

  He lifted his hands to cup her shoulders, and squeezed, his fingers digging into the skin he'd bared. "You can't hide your sexuality," he told her, his voice husky, his brown eyes burning into hers, "any more than you can deny it."

  Lost in the emotion that turned his brown eyes almost black, she stared unblinking. She wanted to say something, to do something totally insane, like throw her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless.

  But then his hands were gone, and he was turning away, and the opportunity was gone. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her throat. Her pulse pounded beneath her shaking fingers.

  Oh, God, she cried silently. Did You send Jack to taunt me with my inadequacies? Or to teach me how to overcome them?

  She opened her eyes in time to hear the back door close behind him.

  Oh, how she hoped he was there to teach.

  Jack stalked his way to the barn, stepped inside, then slammed the door closed behind him. He grabbed a shovel propped against the wall and hurled it across the room. It hit the far wall with a loud thunk, then fell to the ground with a clatter.

  But the action didn't relieve Jack's frustration.

  "Damn!" he swore, digging his fingers through his hair. "Damn, damn, damn!" He sank to the ground, bracing his elbows on his propped knees, his fingers still knotted in his hair. What had he been thinking? What had made him do such an utterly stupid thing? Grabbing Alayna like that. Ripping her shirtsleeve off.

  He heaved a frustrated breath and fell back against the barn wall, dropping his arms to hook them over his knees. Another five seconds and he'd have been kissing her. No, hell, he'd have had her on the floor and been making love to her!

  And what a mistake that would've been. With all the hang-ups Alayna had about men and sex, in his present state, Jack would have scared the hell out of her.

  And he didn't want to scare her. He didn't want to add to her problems. He wanted to help her. But how? he asked himself. How was he going to help her when every time he looked at her, he wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless?

  Think, Cordell, think! he ordered himself. There's got to be a way.

  "—then Merideth ran to Daddy and tattled on us and we all got in trouble."

  "I did not tattle," Merideth cried indignantly, insulted by Mandy's accusation.

  Sam merely laughed.

  "Yes, you did," Mandy insisted. "You always tattled, didn't she, Alayna?" she asked, turning to her cousin for confirmation.

  But Alayna didn't hear the question. She was staring out the kitchen window, her thoughts on Jack back at the house, and remembering the angry look on his face when he'd ripped her sleeve from her shirt, the sensations that had flooded her body when he'd pulled the sleeve down her arm, the huskiness in his voice.

  Mandy punched her arm. "Alayna?"

  Startled, Alayna snapped her head around. "What?"

  "Is something bothering you?"

  Alayna's eyes widened. "No!" She sat up straighter in her chair. "I was just—" She shifted her gaze from Mandy's to Sam's and finally to Merideth's, and she saw the doubt in their eyes, and knew that she couldn't fool them. Not her McCloud cousins. They knew her as well as she knew herself. Maybe better. And why would she even try to hide her problems from them when she'd driven over for the sole purpose of seeking their advice? "It's Jack," she admitted reluctantly.

  All three cousins leaned forward expectantly. "What about him?"

  Alayna plucked at the napkin beneath her glass. "Well, I don't know really. You see—" She huffed a breath, frustrated with her inability to verbalize her current dilemma. "I want to have sex with him," she said bluntly.

  Merideth hooted at the ceiling. "Maudie was right. You did hire him for his body."

  "Merideth!" Mandy and Sam cried in unison.

  Merideth lifted her chin. "Men pay for sex. Why can't a woman?"

  Laughing, Alayna held up a hand, staving off a sibling battle. Her cousins were so predictable … and so dear. "I wish it were as simple as offering Jack cash and the deed being done." She sank back in her chair with a sigh, her smile fading. "Unfortunately it's not."

  Mandy peered at her in concern. "Do you have feelings for him?"

  Alayna sat a moment, thinking, knowing Mandy's questions deserved an honest answer. "I don't know," she said at last. "I know I care for him, and I know I'm attracted to him, which is ridiculous considering the amount of time I've known him." She rolled her eyes as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "Know him," she said in exasperation. "I don't know anything about him. He stubbornly refuses to discuss his past." She heaved a breath. "I just know what I've witnessed over the last few weeks by living and working so closely with him. And that is," she added pointedly, "that Jack Cordell is a kind and sensitive man—though he tries his best to disguise it. He's honest, extremely knowledgeable about a great number of things and he works very hard." She shot Merideth a sly smile. "And he looks pretty darn go
od without a shirt on, too."

  Merideth tossed back her head and laughed, but Mandy's face still registered concern. "What happened between the two of you to provoke this sudden desire to have sex with a man you hardly know?"

  Alayna frowned. "Well, this morning," she began, then stopped, shaking her head. "No, actually it began several weeks ago when he kissed me."

  "He kissed you?" Mandy repeated, unable to disguise her surprise.

  "Yes. It was the night you invited us all for dinner. I was determined to find out why Jack had refused to join us, so after I put the children to bed, I went in search of him. I found him on the pond's pier. We were sitting there talking and watching the sunset, and that's when he kissed me."

  "A sunset. A kiss. A definite prelude to sex," Merideth concluded knowingly.

  "A kiss is a prelude to sex?" Sam rolled her eyes. "Maybe for you, it is."

  Merideth arched a brow. "Oh, really? Seems as if I remember Nash winning you over in a similar way. A simple little kiss and you were panting after him for more."

  "A simple little kiss?" Sam snorted a laugh. "Nash doesn't do simple little kisses. His are—"

  "Okay, you two," Mandy lectured sternly, "knock it off. Alayna didn't come over to hear the details of your sordid sex lives." She turned back to her cousin. "He kissed you, then what happened?"

  Alayna pressed her fingers against her lips, remembering her reaction. "It was horrible."

  Merideth frowned, confused. "His kiss?"

  Alayna frantically shook her head. "No, no. His kiss was wonderful. It was after the kiss that was horrible."

  "What happened?"

  "He—well, he put his hand on my breast, and I—" Alayna pressed a hand over her breast, remembering the feel of his hand there, then let it drop weakly to the table. "—well, I panicked."

  Compassion softened Mandy's eyes as she reached for Alayna's hand. "Oh, Alayna."