Flirting With Danger

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Flirting With Danger Page 10

by Claire Baxter


  “I thought she was dead?”

  “She died in a car crash. The driver was Bernard’s best friend, and the two of them had just left an isolated hotel where they’d spent the weekend, unbeknown to either of their spouses. The kids of both families had grown up together and they were all devastated.”

  His chest ached for Jasmine.

  “Mind you,” Liz went on as she took the remaining plates from his arms, “it wasn’t the first affair their mother had had, by all accounts. Rob doesn’t say much, but from the little I’ve heard, she sounds like a very selfish woman. Poor Jasmine has been trying to prove to the outside world that she’s not like her mother ever since.”

  Aaron heard the door open behind him, but he was frozen to the spot. Liz had dumped a pile of information on him in a very short time and he was still trying to assimilate it.

  “You’re in the way, lad.”

  Startled, Aaron stepped aside to allow Bernard access to the kitchen. Bernard drew level with him and said, “You’d better not be toying with my daughter’s affections, lad. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

  “We’re not—”

  “Not dating. I’ve heard what you’ve both said. And now you’ve heard what I have to say, right?”

  Aaron stiffened. No one seemed to be giving Jasmine credit for overcoming whatever traumas were in her past and becoming the strong woman she was today. “You know what, Bernard? Your daughter is capable of looking after herself. She’s intelligent and far too sensible to get mixed up with someone like me. Excuse me.”

  Aaron made his way outside. One glance found Jasmine talking to the girlfriend of her brother Brad. She looked his way and smiled, then excused herself from the conversation and limped over to him.

  “Do you wish you hadn’t stayed now?”

  “No.” He could honestly say that wasn’t the case. If he hadn’t stayed, he wouldn’t have learned this new information about her. Information that went some way toward explaining her attitude toward him, and her behavior in general. He couldn’t blame her for putting up barriers to protect herself. The trouble was, the more he knew about her, the more he wanted to break those barriers down.

  How perverse was that?

  Bernard was right—he wasn’t the settling-down type, which meant he was the wrong person to get close to Jasmine. But for all their differences, they had something in common too. He knew how it felt to be hurt by a parent. If anyone could understand how the past had affected her, it was him.

  “I’m impressed,” she said.

  “Don’t be. Your father doesn’t like me. I don’t have irresponsible heartbreaker tattooed on my forehead, do I?”

  She leaned forward as if to check, and the sun-warmed scent of her skin wafted up to him, tangling with his senses and making him stifle a physical reaction.

  “No, but it could be arranged. Brad knows someone—”

  “Thanks, I’ll pass. I already feel like I’ve had hot needles poked under my fingernails.”

  She grimaced. “Were they that bad?”

  Nodding, he said, “Don’t worry, I told them that you’re like a sister to me, and that mollified them.” He recalled Bernard’s menacing glare. “They have a right to be this way; they care about you.”

  He hadn’t used the word sister, and if he had it would have been a lie, but right now it seemed like the best way to reassure her that he hadn’t given her family reason to act even more protectively.

  Then she got distracted by people gathering their belongings, and he took the opportunity to stare at the curve of her cheek, the line of her neck, and wonder about the man who’d broken her heart—and whether her family had let him escape unscathed. It was a pity he hadn’t had more time alone with Liz; given the chance, he would have found out every detail she knew.

  …

  The next day when Aaron arrived, her chair was still in the front garden, so she settled down to read while he worked. Not that she could concentrate on her book, though. Overnight she’d replayed her brief conversation with Leon again and again. Each time her heart rate spiked, only to dip again when she recalled Aaron saying that she was like a sister to him. Somehow she had to make up her mind whether she wanted him to be attracted to her, or not. And if she did, she had to find a way to stop him seeing her as a sister.

  Aaron was spreading tile adhesive onto the concrete base, and appeared to be concentrating, so she was surprised when he said, “I noticed that there were no photos of your mother on display.” He paused while he replaced the lid on the tub. “Why is that?”

  She shrugged. “Because I don’t have any.” She watched his hands as he began to arrange the small mosaic tiles on the adhesive.

  “That’s unusual, isn’t it? Don’t you have any from when she was young?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s this about?”

  “I’m interested.”

  “In my mother?”

  “Not really. It’s just something that Liz said.”

  “I suppose she said that I look like my mother, but I don’t. I’m nothing like her. Nothing at all.” She huffed out a breath. “Liz has a big mouth.”

  “She gave me some friendly advice.”

  “How friendly? Rob’s got a black belt in karate, you know.”

  “She had your best interests in mind when she told me about the accident.”

  Jasmine stared, then lifted one shoulder. “I’m sure she did, but that doesn’t give her the right to talk about this with someone outside the family.”

  He pressed down on the tile he was fixing, then swiveled on his heels to face her. “You tell me. I’d rather hear it from you.”

  She shook her head, closed her eyes, then drew in a deep breath before opening her eyes again. “My mother was exceptionally beautiful. I look a little bit like her when I’m dressed up and wearing makeup. Most of the time, I don’t.”

  “She couldn’t have looked perfect all the time.”

  “Oh, but she did. She was obsessed by her looks, and using them to get her way. It didn’t matter if we were late for school, or even whether we’d had breakfast before leaving the house, as long as her hair and makeup were flawless, and her clothes were sexy. She wouldn’t have been seen dead in frumpy clothes.”

  That was more than she’d meant to say, and the last few words made her sound callous, she realized, but they’d spilled out, because they were true.

  “Anyway, if I did have any pictures, I wouldn’t put them on display out of respect for my dad. He went through hell for most of his married life, and then she’d use the same charm offensive on him that she used on all the other men. He could see what she was doing, but he was helpless to resist.”

  “So, you rebelled against her by doing the opposite?”

  “I didn’t rebel. I’m just not like her.”

  “Liz told me about the accident.” He stopped arranging tiles and turned to face her. “I’m sorry. It must have been horrible for you.”

  “It was.” The memory made her eyes sting, but she would not cry. She stared straight ahead, seeing only the events of that day. “I was upset for my father, losing both his wife and his best friend, and for the embarrassment he had to go through, that we all had to go through, and about the sense of betrayal, and losing my friends, because we never saw the other family again. And somewhere down the list, I was upset about losing my mother, although even then, I knew she didn’t really care about me.”

  A point that had been brought home to her when she’d been taken sick at school one day. Nothing serious. A tummy bug, that was all. She’d thrown up in the classroom and the humiliation had been horrendous. That, on top of the pain in her stomach and the unfamiliar nausea, had made her feel very sorry for herself. The school had summoned her mother, but when she’d arrived, there had been no hug, and no comforting words either.

  It was the first time that tomboy Jasmine had really needed a cuddle, and all her mother had done was complain about having to endure the smell of sickness in her c
ar and warn her not to get too close in her smelly clothes.

  It had hurt. A lot.

  She blinked rapidly. “She used to flirt and exploit her looks to get whatever she wanted. Can you blame me for wanting to show them all, my dad and my brothers, even myself, I suppose, that I really wasn’t like her in any way?”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “I was already a tomboy from hanging out with the four boys. I just accentuated that part of my personality, and played down the feminine side.”

  “I understand, but I reckon they’ve got the message by now. They know you. You don’t have to keep up the facade.”

  “It’s not a facade. This is how I am.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with how you are. Far from it. But if you did want to, say, wear a pretty dress or have your hair done, I bet none of your family would have anything negative to say about it. And if you asked them for help, I’m sure they’d find that perfectly natural. They wouldn’t think less of you for it.”

  In the early years her mother had forced her to wear dresses that were totally impractical for playing outside with her brothers, then, as she began to grow up, things had changed. Jasmine had begun to resemble her mother, and despite her refusal to wear makeup or style her hair or do anything designed to enhance her looks, her mother had treated her like a threat, as if she were vying for the male attention that her mother seemed to crave.

  That wasn’t normal, was it?

  Surely a mother shouldn’t see her own daughter as a rival?

  Aaron’s phone rang, and he stood while he dug it out of his pocket. His face lit up when he saw who was calling, and Jasmine fought down a spike of jealousy. Ridiculous. As if she had any right to be jealous. She didn’t even want the right, but it was impossible to have a conversation like they’d just had without feeling closer. She’d shared some very personal stuff, unloaded some heavy baggage on him, and it was only natural to feel an emotional connection, she was sure.

  He listened to the speaker then said, “Tonight?” He gave her an apologetic glance and moved away from the veranda to continue the conversation.

  When he came back she had her nose buried in her book, determined not to look as if she cared who he’d been talking to.

  “That was Joe’s brother.”

  She looked up, taking a moment to work out who he meant. “Joe…as in, your friend, the firefighter?”

  And brother, as in, not female?

  He nodded. “He owns a venue that’s being used for the Fringe Festival. He’s putting on a private party for opening night in Joe’s memory because it’s the anniversary of his death. He asked me to go. I couldn’t really say no, considering the circumstances.”

  “Oh, no, of course you couldn’t. That sounds good.”

  “It is. I haven’t seen Tony for ages. It will be great to catch up with him again. We used to play football together on the team that Joe coached.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He wants me to take a partner. Someone to dance with. I think he’s concerned about having an empty dance floor.”

  “Right.” His frankness was unwelcome. She didn’t want to picture Aaron dancing with some beautiful woman.

  “So, what about it? How’s your ankle? Is it up to dancing?”

  Frowning, she said, “It’s okay, but—”

  “Come to Tony’s party with me.”

  She took a sharp breath. As quickly as excitement had bubbled up, she stomped it back down. “I don’t know.”

  “Give me one good reason why not.”

  “I’ve got things to do.”

  “Not good enough.” His eyes narrowed. “When was the last time you went out for fun? And no, Leanne’s wedding doesn’t count because you had no choice about that.”

  “I go out. I meet Sasha for a drink sometimes.” Or at least, she used to. That hadn’t happened since Kane had appeared on the scene.

  “Is that it?”

  She glared at him. “I don’t need to go out to be happy. I like being on my own.”

  “You know, Jasmine, there are two types of people: those who write themselves a bucket list, and those who’ve already done it all.”

  “That’s deep for you. I thought the only depth you liked was in your girlfriends’ necklines.”

  “You give me a hard time, but I’m really a nice guy.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “It’s true. I’m kind to animals, and I’m against animal testing. Unless it’s multiple choice. Anything else, they get nervous and fail.”

  She shook her head. “So, you don’t need a bucket list because you’ve done everything you want to do in life?”

  “Not quite, but I won’t die wondering. My point is that one day you’ll look back on your life and wish you’d had more fun.”

  She pressed her lips together.

  “You know, people don’t lie on their deathbeds wishing they’d spent more time renovating.”

  His words were like a punch to her stomach, taking away her ability to speak. He was right. She was still in her twenties; she was supposed to go to parties at her age.

  “Anyway, I’m not asking you to BASE jump off a building, just to go to a party with me.

  She did want to go. She wanted to have fun. To dress up. To show him that she was not his sister. “Okay.”

  “What?”

  “I said, okay. I’ll go to the party with you.”

  His smile started small and gradually spread across his face. “All right, then. Now we’re talking.”

  “I need to borrow something to wear for a party,” Jasmine said into the phone as soon as Aaron had left.

  Once she’d explained what she wanted it for, Sasha said, “I’ll be over there in fifteen minutes.”

  “But Kane—”

  Sasha had already hung up. Jasmine could only hope that she hadn’t interrupted a romantic date.

  Aaron had said he’d be back to pick her up when she’d had time to get ready for the party. That was when she’d realized she didn’t own any appropriate clothes, and it was too late for a trip to the shops.

  When Sasha arrived, she was barely visible over the pile of clothes in her arms. “Let me put these on your bed.”

  “You didn’t have to do this. One would have been enough.”

  “Nuh-uh. We have to find the perfect top. You can wear it with your best jeans, assuming you have a decent pair.” As she spoke, Sasha held up a glittery shirt in front of Jasmine, then dismissed it. She tried another, and another, then said, “With your eyes, this would look fabulous, but you wouldn’t go for it. Too revealing.”

  Jasmine looked down. Although there didn’t appear to be a lot of the top, she loved the gorgeous topaz color of what little there was.

  “Oh, wait, I brought shoes too. I left them in the car.”

  While Sasha dashed out to her car, Jasmine took off her T-shirt and slipped the filmy topaz top over her head, then looked in the full-length mirror. Blimey. She’d never worn anything so revealing—at least, not intentionally. She wouldn’t even be able to wear a bra with it, and she could see why Sasha would say it wasn’t her thing, but even she had to acknowledge that this was a sexy top. And that she looked like a sexy woman in it. All her workouts had paid off, giving her toned arms and a flat stomach, as well as the strength she needed to do her job.

  But still…she wasn’t used to dressing for male approval.

  “Oh, wow.”

  Jasmine’s eyes snapped up at the sound of Sasha’s voice.

  “Are you going to wear that one?”

  “I think it suits me.” She shrugged. “Does it?”

  “Does it ever. Aaron won’t know what’s hit him.”

  Jasmine frowned. Was that why she’d chosen it? Because she wanted Aaron to see her as a beautiful woman? Or because she wanted to look good for herself?

  Both, she decided.

  There, she’d admitted it. She drew in a careful breath. And wanting to l
ook nice for Aaron didn’t make her her mother, she reminded herself. But if he still saw her as a sister after tonight, she might as well give up any hope of him ever changing his opinion and seeing her as a desirable woman.

  “Now, I know you don’t like stilettos, so we have here a choice between a kitten-heeled strappy sandal in tan, or these chocolate wedge heels that are probably not so sexy, but they’re supercomfortable.”

  Jasmine curved her lips into a smile. “It has to be the kitten heels.”

  “Really?”’ Sasha’s eyes widened. “You’re going all out to hook him, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not stupid. I know there’s no hooking Aaron. I just want to look good tonight, for a change. Is there anything wrong with that?”

  Sasha snorted. “Not in my book. I think it’s about time you made the most of what you have, because I’m telling you, when you get old you’ll wish you’d flaunted it while you had it.”

  Not quite the same words that Aaron had used earlier, but similar enough that Jasmine stared, stunned into silence. Life was passing her by, and if she didn’t do something about it soon, it would be gone before she’d screwed up the courage to get on board.

  “I have a suggestion,” Sasha said. “I think you should leave your hair loose. Forget the ponytail for once. It’s not like you have to be practical tonight.”

  Jasmine started to shake her head, then changed her mind. “All right, I will. Can you help me with my makeup too?”

  “Sure. I’d love to.”

  Sasha had only just left when Aaron arrived. Jasmine was starting to have second thoughts, wondering whether she was asking for trouble in going all out to attract Aaron. She probably was, but now it was too late to change her clothes. She pulled open the door to see Aaron standing there, radiating masculinity through his smart-casual clothes. She kept forgetting how good-looking he was, which meant that when she saw him, she lost her breath all over again.

  His gaze moved from the top of her head to her feet, and up again. Then it dropped, but only as far as her chest. Which made her tingle madly.

 

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