by Cathie Linz
“Did my uncle tell you that I was injured in the line of duty?” Jack asked her.
“No.”
Didn’t the woman have any curiosity? he irritably wondered. “I’m a firefighter.”
“That’s nice.”
Nice? Nice?! That’s it? Okay, so swinging his crutch at her had not made the best of first impressions. But he could make up for that. “Look, why don’t you and your daughter sit down while I write up the list. As you can see, it takes me a while to get around.” He’d never had to use the sympathy angle before, but hey—if it worked...
It didn’t.
“You moved fast enough swinging that crutch of yours,” Kayla replied.
Ah, so she wasn’t going to make this easy on him, was she? Okay. That was fine by Jack. He hadn’t had a challenge like this in years. Well, actually, he’d never had a challenge quite like this, but he was man enough to rise to the occasion.
And the way her angora sweater clung to her curves did indeed make a certain part of his anatomy rise. She was tall, only about four or five inches shorter than his own six feet. And she wasn’t wearing heels. In fact, she was wearing practical-looking black flats.
“In those clothes, you don’t look old enough to have a daughter,” he murmured.
Kayla narrowed her eyes at him. She knew damn well he was practicing his charm on her. She also knew that he was aggravated it wasn’t working. Good. It served him right—for scaring the heck out of her, swinging his crutch at her and nearly decapitating her.
It didn’t matter that he had the most intriguing eyes she’d ever seen—a blend of blue and gray. They were like smoke. In contrast, his dark lashes and eyebrows were a commanding combination. His hair was equally dark and somewhat on the wild side, which she had a feeling matched his own personality. Somewhat on the wild side.
He had the powerful build of a man who was used to physical activity. His shoulders were exceptionally broad, straining against the sweatshirt he wore. And the running shorts displayed his muscular legs, the calf muscles well developed. All of him was well developed, for that matter.
But if he thought she was going to melt, now that he’d turned on the sex appeal—the heated looks from those smoky eyes, the devilish grin from lips a sculptor would have loved—he was sadly mistaken. She’d already been put through the grinder by a pro. Her ex-husband, Bruce, had been as good-looking as they came. She’d fallen in love with him at first sight and had scarcely been able to believe her luck when he’d finally asked her out. It had been her first month at college. By the end of the year, she’d dropped out and they’d gotten married. The next five years had flown by as she’d been busy working to put her husband through medical school—only to have him dump her when he’d finished his internship.
That had been nearly three years ago and the hurt was still there, if not the love. Kayla had used part of the divorce settlement she’d received to start up Errands Unlimited with Diane. After all, Kayla had been running Bruce’s errands throughout their marriage. Yet as a working mother, she knew how little time there was in a day, and had often wished she’d been able to afford to hire someone to do the million and one things that needed to be done in a day that had too few hours.
And now she had the chance to prove herself to Jack’s uncle, with the reward being her first big account. Yes, this job was an important one, not that Kayla intended to let Jack know that.
She intended to keep things strictly professional. She didn’t care how attractive the man was. Her ex-husband had been hunk material. On the outside. She’d discovered too late that he was just a jerk at heart.
“The list,” she reminded Jack.
“Right.”
As Kayla watched him struggle to maneuver himself over to the couch she had to steel herself against giving in to her immediate impulse to rush over and help him. It wasn’t in her nature to just stand by when someone needed assistance.
“Mommy, you’s huggin’ me too hard,” Ashley complained.
“Sorry, baby.” Kayla kissed her daughter’s forehead. “We’ll be going soon...”
A string of curses filled the air as Jack hit his big toe on the leg of the coffee table.
“Mr. Elliott, I’d appreciate it if you’d watch your language around my daughter!”
The outraged primness of Kayla’s voice made Jack want to...kiss her. She had the kind of mouth for it. Soft and full. Downright lush.
Shifting Ashley from one hip to the other, Kayla said, “If you can’t write up the list now, I’ll come back later....”
Not wanting her to leave yet, Jack said, “No, let’s do this now.” He sank onto the couch. Wondering why it was so lumpy, he tugged a pile of newspapers, several T-shirts, and an empty pizza carton out from under his thigh.
His apartment would never win any housekeeping awards on the best of days, which this was not. Shoving the pizza carton onto an already overladen coffee table, Jack said, “First off, I need food. There’s nothing in the kitchen except for a bag of lentils. I don’t know how the hell they got into my house. I hate lentils.”
“Then write up a grocery list and I’ll pick up some food for you. You’ll also have to give me the money.”
“That’s the second thing on my list. I don’t have any cash.” Jack ran an impatient hand through his hair, further ruffling the dark strands and intensifying his wild buccaneer look. “I have to go to the bank or an ATM. I mean, you’ll have to go to the bank or an ATM.”
“Why don’t you just make me out a check instead?”
“That’s number three on the list. I’m out of checks. I meant to order more from the bank, but I never got around to it....”
Kayla’s sigh threatened to set him off again. So did the way she was looking around his living room, as if expecting rats to come crawling out of the woodwork. He might be messy, but he was no slob. But before he could say so, she spoke first.
“I’ll advance you the money, but please be advised that this is a one-time occurrence. Your uncle is paying for my services, but not for the materials supplied—not for the groceries bought or the dry cleaning picked up....”
“Lady, I haven’t had anything dry cleaned since 1990,” Jack retorted, his anger rising at the sound of her long-suffering tone of voice. It made him feel like an idiot. She made him feel like an idiot. The problem was, she also intrigued him, tempted him and aroused him. A lot! More each time he looked at her.
“If you’re going to make a list, you’ll need something to write with,” she briskly said, coming closer to hand him a pen with her free hand.
As their fingers met, a spark sizzled. Given his earlier attraction to her, Jack was expecting it—but apparently Kayla wasn’t, because she shot him a startled look. He saw a glimpse of an answering awareness in her eyes. It was just a glimpse, but it was enough. For now. She wasn’t unmoved.
Jack smiled. Suddenly his immediate future was looking a lot brighter. Here he’d been feeling sorry for himself, moping around the place because of his busted leg and the projected four-week recovery period until he could return to work. But now it looked like there was a good chance that things could get real interesting in that time period. Really interesting, thanks to a woman with big blue eyes and a frosty manner.
Even given her unexpected presence, he still hated being laid up this way. It put a real crimp in his style, not to mention the fact that he had too much to do to be slowed down.
Jack didn’t realize he’d spoken that last thought aloud until Kayla said, “That’s what I’m here for. To help you.”
So why was it that Jack had the sudden feeling that Kayla would end up doing more harm than good to his bachelor life?
Two
“So, what did you think of my nephew?” Ralph Enteman asked Kayla as she drove away from Jack’s building. Ralph had called her on her cellular phone.
“He’s everything you said he was...and more,” she replied.
Recognizing the irritation in her voice, Ralph said,
“You’re not going to quit, are you?”
“Of course not! In fact, I’m on my way now to get your nephew some groceries and other necessities.” In her opinion, Jack could definitely also use some common courtesy and patience with a little cooperation thrown in. Unfortunately none of those things could be picked up at any store. Talk about being obstinate...the man could give lessons to a mule!
As if reading her mind, Ralph said, “I did try to warn you that Jack could be stubborn.”
“Yes, you did. But apparently you didn’t warn him that I was coming to his apartment. Jack mistook me for someone else. He tried to smack me over the head with his crutch.”
“Oh no! I know he’s got a temper, but I never thought he’d do anything violent.”
Kayla felt compelled to clarify. “In his defense, he thought I was trying to break into his apartment.”
“Oh. Well then, his reaction makes sense. Someone did break in and rob him a few months back, although that neighborhood is much better than where he used to live. The thing is, Jack isn’t a man to just sit around and do nothing if threatened.”
“Believe me, I wasn’t at all threatening. Quite the opposite.” Kayla was tempted to add that she’d had her daughter with her, but she wasn’t sure what Ralph’s reaction would be. After all, Jack hadn’t been that pleased to see Ashley.
But Kayla had a schedule and nothing messed with it, even handsome firefighters like Jack. Today was Wednesday, and on Wednesdays Kayla kept Ashley with her until one p.m., when she dropped her off at the Windy City Day Care Center. One of the things Kayla liked about her work was the ability to take Ashley with her now and then. Most workdays Kayla did leave her daughter in child care, but there were certain days, like today, when they shared time together.
Stopping at a red light, Kayla shot a smile over to Ashley, who was strapped into the car seat and happily talking to her favorite toy—a rather battered teddy bear named Hugs. The bear was even older than three-year-old Ashley, because Kayla had bought it for her the day she’d found out she was pregnant. There had been some tough times in the intervening years, and the toy’s brown fur had now faded to a dark beige from numerous washings.
“Anyway, I’m sorry Jack upset you,” Ralph was saying.
“He didn’t upset me,” Kayla assured him. After all, it wouldn’t do for her client to think that she was easily distracted. She wanted him to appreciate her calmness and reliability. She wanted him to think of her as a woman who got the job done. “We got everything settled, no problem.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
After hanging up her cellular phone, Kayla told herself that she hadn’t lied to Ralph. As far as she was concerned, everything was settled between Jack and her. And that sizzle of attraction she’d felt when she’d handed him her pen had been a figment of her imagination. She refused to even consider any other explanation.
“Anyone home?” This time Kayla made sure to announce her return to Jack’s apartment. She’d tried ringing the buzzer, but there had been no reply. And after his former blunder, Kayla didn’t trust Ernie the Doorman anymore. The fact that Ernie had asked her if she was Jack’s “latest” hadn’t exactly endeared him to her, either.
“This is your second time here today, not that I pry into other people’s business,” Ernie had told her in a monotone so deadpan it would put a caffeine-freak to sleep. What little hair Ernie had was carefully combed back from his forehead in a futile attempt to give him the image of having more hair than he actually did. His uniform fit his hefty build so snugly that the buttons were straining, as if ready to launch themselves across the lobby.
Despite his disclaimer about prying into other people’s business, Kayla had sensed that Ernie had been more than willing to give her the lowdown on Jack, but she hadn’t stayed to chat. It was already after three, and she had other clients and other errands to run before calling it a day. But she had accepted Ernie’s help in transporting several bags of groceries up to Jack’s front door.
“Jack, it’s Kayla,” she called out as she pushed the door open a little further. She had two plastic bags of food in one hand. The list of groceries he’d given her had cost her nearly eighty dollars, and most of it was junk food. “I’ve got your groceries. Anyone here? I’m not a burglar or belly dancer...” she couldn’t resist adding with a grin. “Hello?”
She made it into the living room without Jack taking any kamikaze swings at her with his crutch. In fact, she didn’t see any sign of him. For a moment she panicked, wondering if he’d fallen and hurt himself. An image flashed into her mind of him lying in the bedroom, injured, unable to get up. Then she registered the sound of the shower running.
Her mental image switched from him lying on the bedroom floor, to him lying in the bathroom, his chest bare...perhaps even all of him bare.
“Oh, great, that’s very helpful,” she muttered under her breath. “Having steamy fantasies about your client when the poor man is injured and could be in trouble.”
So what should she do? Knock on the bathroom door and make sure he was okay? Let him know she was there? She certainly didn’t want him walking out of the bathroom nude or anything. He seemed the type to do just that. Yet she didn’t want to startle him, either. He might slip in the shower and break his other leg.
Putting her ear to the door, she heard him singing. Okay, that meant he wasn’t in trouble. In fact, his voice wasn’t half-bad. Neither was the rest of him. The rebellious thought slipped into her mind before she could stop it.
“That’s enough of that,” she muttered under her breath. “Get your mind out of the shower!”
In the end, Kayla decided to write a note telling him she was there. She taped it to the bathroom door. She’d no sooner done that than the phone started ringing. Expecting an answering machine to pick up, she waited for seven rings before the noise drove her crazy, forcing her to answer it herself. She’d never been able to just ignore a ringing phone—after all, it might be an important call.
“Mr. Elliott’s residence,” she said briskly, juggling the six-pack of soda she was trying to place into the fridge at the same time.
“Who is this?” a woman’s voice demanded. “Where is Jack?”
Wishing now that she hadn’t answered the phone, Kayla said, “He’s in the shower.”
“In the shower?” the woman repeated in disbelief. “What kind of answer is that?”
“The best one I’ve got,” Kayla retorted. “May I tell him who’s calling?”
“Misty. And have him call me back as soon as he gets out!”
“Fine. Does he have your number?”
“Honey, he knows me inside and out,” the woman purred before hanging up.
Kayla had no sooner hung up the phone than it rang again. She’d automatically picked it up before realizing what she’d done. “Hello?” she said before belatedly tacking on, “Elliott residence.”
“Oh, my, you’re not Jack!” Caller number two had a husky female voice that was made all the more sultry by a Southern accent.
“That’s right,” Kayla said cheerfully. “I’m not Jack.”
“Which girl are you?” the woman asked. “You don’t sound like the snippy attorney who was chasing him last week. And you’re not the waitress with the English accent, either.”
Kayla began wondering if that was how Jack had broken his leg, from being chased by endless lines of women.
“Mr. Elliott is unavailable at the moment,” Kayla stated. “May I take a message for him?”
“Tell him Mandy is worried about him and willing to drop everything to come on over there to take care of him. He just has to say the word and I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll tell him.”
By the time Jack came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a smile and a pair of running shorts, Kayla had collected a stack of nearly half a dozen messages—all from women with names that rhymed.
“You got calls from Misty and Mandy, Tammy and Sammy, Barbie
and Bobbie,” she said, trying to keep a straight face.
“What are you laughing at?” he demanded defensively.
“Nothing.” Her earlier amusement disappeared as the details of his appearance belatedly sank in with her.
He’d looked good before but now...now he was raw masculinity incarnate. More of him was bare than was covered. He was a throwback to another age, a time when men survived by their physical strengths.
Although solidly built, there wasn’t an ounce of extra flesh on him. Dark hair covered his chest, trailing down from collarbone to navel, but not so thick that she couldn’t see the ridges of muscles beneath. He radiated presence and power—a knight minus his shining armor.
Which left her as what...a damsel in distress? Realizing she’d been holding her breath since he’d walked in the kitchen, she belatedly inhaled. She could smell the fresh scent of his soap. Her gaze fastened on the single droplet of water slowly meandering down toward the waistband of his running shorts, which clung to his still-damp lower torso.
The silence was deafening as Kayla heard the increased pounding of her own heartbeat. She saw the way his chest rose and fell. Was he breathing faster, too? Her eyes lifted to meet his. Only then did she realize how pale he was.
Quickly gathering her wits, Kayla asked, “Uh...are you supposed to be taking a shower so soon after breaking your leg? When did you break your leg, anyway?”
“Yesterday.”
“Yesterday!” His answer evaporated her steamy fantasies as concern took their place. “And you’re singing in the shower today? Are you crazy?”
“Probably,” he muttered, grimacing at the pain shooting up his right leg.
“A three-year-old would have more sense! Here, you’d better sit down before you fall down,” she said, scooting a kitchen chair over to him.
“I’m not an invalid,” he snapped.
