“Absolutely.” She grinned, but inside she was serious. Yes, she did want to celebrate. And she wanted to do it with Jamison. But telling him might upset their new, fragile understanding, so she thought it best to strive for a light, fluffy demeanor.
He piled change on the table for the waitress. “Okay. But it’ll be hard for me to let you pay.”
She grinned. “Because you’re a chivalrous, old-fashioned kind of a guy?”
“Because my mama taught me manners. And one rule is to never let a lady pay.”
She hooked her arm through his. “Jamison, this is the twenty-first century. We’ll catch you up yet.”
His arm felt stiff, and she quickly released it. What was she thinking? “Lead me to a fabulous restaurant,” she instructed.
He finally smiled. “I know a place…meraviglioso…over a few blocks.”
“Lead on.”
The marvelous place was a tiny bistro with a line out the door. While they waited, Jamison found a Spanish paper and glanced through it while Alexa took in the sparkling white lights on a nearby tree, and watched the sky turn rose, then deepen into dusk. A fascinating array of people walked by—some were dressed to the nines, while others wore casual dress with cameras slung around their necks.
Their wait time flew by, and soon they sat with gold napkins on their laps and bread on the table, with a candle in a bottle in the center. They sat near a window overlooking the street, and Alexa watched more people gather outside to wait their turn to dine. Luckily, the menu was in French, so she knew enough to order chicken cordon bleu and a caesar salad. Jamison ordered fish, listed as fresh caught that day.
Their drinks arrived—both sparkling cider—and Jamison raised his glass. “To your book’s success, and for the new one you’re writing.” His gaze darkened. “And may every one of your dreams come true.”
Something inside Alexa melted. He cared for her. He truly wanted her to be happy. “Thank you.” Softly, she clicked her glass against his.
“Tell me about your childhood,” she said, when their salads arrived.
“I was a hell-raiser.”
“No! I can’t imagine that.”
He smiled and popped a bite in his mouth. “I was always in trouble.”
“Doing what?” Alexa could not imagine straight-laced Jamison ever running wild and free, like a young hellion.
“I rode the freight trains to play hooky from school. Sometimes I wouldn’t get back until dark. My friends came with me. Sometimes we stole food for lunch.” Jamison shrugged. “It grew worse as I got older. I tried alcohol, and started to drink regularly. I never got into other drugs, though.”
Alexa listened with her mouth slightly agape. It sounded absolutely nothing like the Jamison she knew now. “How did you finish school, then? Or did you?”
“My father found out. Over and over again he’d wallop me with his belt. It worked for a while. And then I’d go off again. I got smarter as I grew older, and it took him a long time to find out about the amount of alcohol I was drinking.” Jamison fell silent for a moment. “When he did, he put me to work in the fields. He owns a huge vineyard in Italy,” he told her. “I worked from the minute school let out each day, until sundown. Then I had to do homework. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight, except for approved activities, until I graduated from five tough years of liceo. Then he sent me to college in the United States. I think he’d had enough of me.”
Jamison leaned back so the waiter could clear their places.
Alexa sipped water, trying to digest it all. “Why did you behave like that?”
“I wanted adventure. I liked danger, and I liked to travel. I still do.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Tell me about your childhood. Were you the perfect child?”
Alexa snorted. “Hardly.” She waited while their food was delivered. The glistening chicken with julienned vegetables smelled and looked delicious. She eagerly forked up a bite.
“And?” he prompted.
She swallowed. “I took too many dares in elementary school.”
“For instance?”
“I ate worms once.” She wrinkled her nose, remembering the grittiness and the terrible taste. “And I sprained my ankle jumping off a shed roof. And once, when we lived in North Dakota, I stuck my tongue to a flagpole.”
“Ow.” Jamison flinched. “How did you get it unstuck?”
“A lot of hot air. Mine and my friends’. I knew kids who had ripped their skin off, and I didn’t want that to happen to me.”
He shook his head. “Tell me more.”
“As a teenager, I had a rebellious attitude. I didn’t like anyone telling me what to do or how to think, but I didn’t do drugs or anything like that. I was mostly quiet, and ignored my parents as much as I could. I was mouthy at times.”
Jamison chuckled.
“I know—surprise, surprise. But not to my dad. He’s got a temper.” Alexa fell silent.
Quietly, he said, “Tell me more about your home life.”
“My parents fought constantly. It got worse when I was in junior high.” Alexa bit her lip. “Their anger scared me. And so did the shouting…and the other things. I was terrified they’d get divorced. Then I wished they would.”
“When did they separate?”
“When I was sixteen. Beth was eighteen. I think they stayed together for us.” She released a short, humorless laugh. “The divorce was worse than all the fighting. It felt like my whole world exploded.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I started hanging out more with my friends, including Priscilla—you know, the one I wrote the book about? She encouraged me to get into trouble, but I didn’t. As a senior, I became editor of the yearbook, and I was in the French Club. Other than that, I buried myself in books.”
“Like you do in your writing now?”
“It’s my own world,” she admitted. “And it’s safe.” She had never told anyone that before.
“Is that why you’re so careful with relationships?”
“Partly.” Alexa fell silent and finished the last delicious morsels.
The waiter appeared and whisked away their plates. “Dessert?” he inquired in heavily accented English. He must have realized that they—or at least she was an American.
Alexa looked at Jamison. “I’ll share one with you. Or I’ll just take a bite, if you want a whole one for yourself.”
The waiter grabbed this opportunity to rattle off a long list of desserts, most of which Alexa did not understand. She did, however, understand soufflé and chocolat.
Jamison smiled a little. “Chocolate soufflé?”
She nodded eagerly, and he said to the waiter, “We’ll share a chocolate soufflé.”
“Bien,” he said, and bustled toward the kitchen. The waiter soon reappeared with the dessert in a dish with cream dolloped on top, and two spoons.
“Gracias,” Alexa said, and poked through the cream to the tender insides. The warm chocolate melted in her mouth. “Yum. I’ve never had a soufflé before. This trip is very educational.”
“You’re easy to please, princess.”
She grinned. “You know my Achilles heel. I’d better be careful.”
“Afraid I’ll use it against you?”
“Would you be so dastardly?”
A smile gleamed. “I might. If the stakes were high enough.”
A tiny shiver slipped through her. What could make stakes that high for him?
Their spoons slid into the soufflé at the same time, dipping up bites. It felt intimate, sharing a dessert like this. Alexa tried not to think about it. Weren’t they trying to keep things light and fluffy?
“You can finish it,” Jamison told her.
She realized that she had already eaten half. “You think I’m a pig, don’t you?”
“No.” His lips twitched. “I think you’re a chocoholic.”
“And right you are.” Gleefully, she savored the last tidbits, then sighed with reg
ret and laid down her spoon. “Now that was meraviglioso!” She tried to flick her fingers like Jamison had done, but ended up snapping them instead.
He snorted out a chuckle. “No. Like this.” He kissed his fingers, then flicked them outward.
“I forgot the kiss. Wait. I can do it.” Alexa smooched her fingers and flung her hand out. Her nail caught the tall candle and it fell toward Jamison. With a swift hand he stopped it.
Alexa didn’t know whether to laugh or feel horrified. “I’m sorry! I almost set you on fire.”
“I think it’s time for the check.”
“I’m paying. Remember?” She snatched it from the waiter’s hand when he arrived.
Jamison let her pay, but she could tell by his faint frown and averted gaze that it was hard for him to do.
Outside, it was dark, but the shop windows and the street lamps cast warm glows onto the sidewalk.
“Okay,” she said. “Show me that Italian thingy again. I’ve got to prove I’m not totally incompetent.”
“All right. Hold your fingers like this.” He demonstrated, pressing his fingertips together.
“Like this?” Were his fingers that splayed out and flat?
“No.” Sounding faintly amused, he stopped at the corner of a building. Shadows enveloped them. “Like this.” He cupped the back of her hand and his fingers urged hers into the proper position.
“Oh.” Her heart beat very fast at his nearness. “And then what?” Why did she feel so breathless? She had better stop talking—she might sound like a ninny.
“And then—” He leaned close and kissed her fingertips. Alexa drew startled, quick breath. A sweet song strummed through her blood. “Flick them out, like you’re releasing a butterfly.” His fingers flew outward and hers followed.
“Perfect.” To her regret, he released her. “Now, do it on your own.”
Alexa thought she could do it now. With flourish, she kissed her fingers and flicked them out, as though releasing pixie dust. “To my teacher, who is meraviglioso!”
He smiled and she giggled, feeling high on life. “Come on!” She grabbed his hand. “I’ll race you to that craft store. I want to buy one more thing.”
She didn’t hold his hand for long. Mostly because he wasn’t running, like she was. Well, it was more of a jog. Good thing she had worn flats. And good thing the store was only half a block away. She held the door open. “Come on, slowpoke.”
Alexa knew exactly what she wanted. She went straight to the wooden yo-yo bin. “What color do you like?” she asked. “Besides black, please!”
He looked at her. “Red.”
“Red it is.” She plucked one out and paid for it, then tugged him outside and dropped it into his hand.
“What’s this for?”
“I saw you playing with one the other day. You need a toy to keep you occupied, don’t you think?”
He gave her a strange look. “I do?”
“All that soccer will turn your brain to mush. You need to practice hand-eye coordination. So when the bad guys come, you can zap them.”
“With the yo-yo?”
“Sure. Why not?” Alexa knew she was being silly, and grinned at him.
He smiled back and tried out the yo-yo. It zinged perfectly back into his palm.
“See?” she said. “You’re an expert already.” Alexa thought about the T-shirt she had bought him. He’d like that, too. But she would wait until they got back home. She gave a not so fake yawn. “Let’s head back. Are you ready?”
“Sure.” Jamison gave the yo-yo a few more experimental throws and they took a cab home.
Inside, Alexa pulled off her jacket and ran to her room. “I’ve got one more surprise for you,” she called over her shoulder. “So don’t disappear.” She ditched her purse and pulled the shirt from the pink bag. The pink package would tip him off. She cast about for potential wrapping paper, and then spied the towels. Perfect! Carefully, she rolled the gift inside the towel and trotted out to her bodyguard. He’d pulled off his jacket, and now waited for her with a faint smile.
“Close your eyes and put out your hands.”
“Does it bite?” he wanted to know.
“Don’t be silly!” She pushed the wrapped bundle into his hands. “Now look.”
He opened his eyes. “A towel.”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “Open it.”
Slowly, he unrolled the towel to reveal the shirt. He smiled. “You bought it for me.”
“Of course for you. See what it says? ‘Dangerous.’ And on the back, a tiger.”
The dark gaze met hers. “Are you saying I’m dangerous?”
A blush warmed her cheeks. Actually, that is exactly what she had thought. Only she hadn’t thought it through so clearly then. “Um. I guess.”
He shook it open. “Dangerous to whom?”
“Um…bad guys?”
“Bad guys?”
Warm confusion swirled through her heart. Dare she tell him the truth? She swallowed. “To me,” she said softly.
“Alexa.” She heard the warning in his voice, and his gaze darkened. He dropped the shirt to the couch. “I thought we weren’t going to do this.”
She bit her lip. “I know.”
He moved toward her, as if unable to help himself, and cupped her jaw. She gazed at him as soft and tender feelings tangled inside, and waited for him.
“Alexa.” That single word sounded tormented. Alexa stepped toward him. Only a few inches separated them now. His breath warmed her chin. It was all she could do not to lean in and kiss him.
He wasn’t moving toward her. Why?
And then, slowly, he did. Alexa’s lids closed halfway, anticipating the contact. Wanting it more than she could ever have thought possible.
Why hadn’t he kissed her? Her eyes flickered to his. Need burned in his black eyes. Also an unexpected plea. He wanted her to kiss him. She knew it, instinctively. To prove that she wanted him, too.
Alexa took a quick breath. Somehow it felt like a bold step; actually declaring her attraction to him. But she was attracted to him. No denying that. Tenderness swelled, overflowing her heart, and she felt joy that she could meet his heart-deep need.
Softly, with only a faint whisper of trepidation still in her heart, her mouth touched his. The sweet contact jolted through her.
He shuddered, and his hands closed around her waist, pulling her closer. Jamison commandeered the kiss from that moment on. The sweetness slowly intensified to flame and then bloomed into need…and hunger. Heat leaped in Alexa, and fire. He kissed her deeper, and a swift urgency blossomed within her. Her heart pounded too fast, and her world became only him. Only this moment. Then Alexa felt his tongue flick against her lips, urging her to open to him.
It wasn’t a good idea.
What were they doing?
But searing need overrode her better sense, and willingly she surrendered to him. Slowly, he invaded her mouth, intimately branding her with the essence that was him. The shock of it ricocheted through her nervous system. The flame burned hotter, brighter. Her knees felt like jelly. The force and virility of the man surged through her, making her tremble. He was always so unassuming to the rest of the world, but not now. No more leashing himself into the invisible background. Now she felt the whole man, and her head spun with the potency that was him.
Jamison broke the contact, chest heaving rapidly against her. Feeling lost, she gazed at him, confused. His gaze looked tortured, but he stepped back, putting distance between them. “Better stop now, princess. Before you do something you regret.”
At that moment, Alexa couldn’t imagine what she could regret. She felt disoriented. Why had he kissed her like that, if only to pull away? “What do you mean?”
“I don’t meet your criteria. Remember?”
For a second, she couldn’t think what he was talking about. Then she remembered. Because of his height?
He pressed on relentlessly, “Isn’t Colin your perfect man?”
&nbs
p; She took a step back, feeling confused. “I wasn’t thinking about Colin right now. I was thinking about you.” How could she think about anyone else?
He waited, his face hard, shoulders stiff. “Tell me the truth, Alexa!”
“Why did you kiss me like that?” She begged for understanding. She felt like she had been through a car wreck.
“Because I couldn’t help myself!” He slammed a hand through his hair. “I wanted you to respond to me. But it is not enough,” he said through his teeth. “Tell me the truth—who do you want? Colin, or me?”
She stared at him, struggling to think clearly. Her heart wanted Jamison. Her head said she was insane. All they did was fight. Not to mention, they lived an ocean and a continent apart. One would be an unbreachable gulf, but two…
Didn’t pursuing Colin make the most sense? Wasn’t he her perfect man, like Jamison accused?
“You’re right. That was…pleasant, but I...” She felt like a fool. What was she saying? She wanted to kiss him some more! Impulsively, before she could think, she touched his arm. It felt like steel under his ubiquitous black shirt. He tensed when she touched him. “Jamison…”
“Don’t, Alexa.” His deep voice sounded slightly strangled. “I never know if I’m coming or going with you. All I know is this has got to stop.” He twisted his arm free.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play games with me, Alexa! I can’t take it.”
“I’m n…” She cut her denial short, because truly, she didn’t know what she was doing. She was attracted to Jamison in some twisted sort of a way. He was all wrong for her, wasn’t he? They squabbled all the time. Colin was the perfect man—the man she had dreamed of her entire life. He met almost every single one of her criteria, and he was actually interested in her. And they had an adult, civilized relationship. Wouldn’t she be a fool not to pursue him? “I’m sorry.”
A muscle clenched in his jaw. “At least you’re honest.” He sounded bitter. “But I knew the score from the beginning, didn’t I?”
“Jamison…”
“Don’t try to placate me. You’ll insult me by trying.”
“I don’t intend to placate you!” Her temper sparked. “Mr. Know-it-all!”
“I don’t know anything when it comes to you.” He took a harsh breath. “I think I need to pull myself out of this situation.”
Her Reluctant Bodyguard Page 21
