by Girard, Dara
“Wasn’t the movie any good?” she asked him.
JD looked up, surprised to see her. She didn’t blame him. Except for cursory remarks like “hi” or “good morning,” she hadn’t engaged him in conversation.
“Gran wasn’t feeling well so I just ordered something in then played for her.”
“Played for her? What did you play?”
He folded his arms and a slow smile touched his lips. “I’ll tell you if you’ll show me your studio.”
Damn, he hadn’t forgotten. “I’m not that interested.”
JD shrugged then went into the family room. Monica swore because she knew that he’d gotten her. Her imagination would race until she discovered what he’d played for his grandmother. She reluctantly followed him into the other room and saw him reading a book on dog training. Although he looked casual, something about him was different. More subdued. She again wondered why he was here. What was he running away from? She knew he had his reasons why he wanted to hide, but it wasn’t just overwork; she understood because she had her own dark reasons. “Okay, you win,” she said.
“Good.” He tossed the book aside and stood up as if she’d said exactly what he’d expected. For a moment Monica wondered if his subdued look had been a trap.
“Tell me what you played first.”
JD shook his head. “After I see the studio. I wouldn’t want you to change your mind.”
Monica rested her hands on her hips, affronted. “I wouldn’t—”
He held up his hand, firm. “That’s the deal.”
Monica sighed fiercely then marched up the stairs. If he wanted to see her studio, fine. He wouldn’t uncover anything exciting there. Just equipment and jewelry designs. She had nothing to worry about. He wouldn’t stay long. He’d just have a quick look around and then he’d be gone. But that thought didn’t stop her from being aware of how close he was to her as he followed and how he seemed to loom over her. It was an amazing feat, because he was only a couple of inches taller than she was, but he commanded the space around him. She took a deep breath then opened the door.
JD walked in and looked around. Monica quickly scanned the space to make sure everything was in its place. She liked to keep things meticulous. A large magnifying glass stood attached to her drawing table, and several old clothes and a worn apron hung on pegs off to the side. Sheets of silver sat sorted by size and were filed neatly in a freestanding organizer. Several pliers, a small hammer and a torch for soldering lay neatly on a workbench situated in the middle of the room directly under a skylight. Several bottles, clearly labeled, were lined up on the table next to small remnants of jewelry she had been working on, and at the back of the studio was a double sink.
Monica couldn’t read anything from JD’s expression. She folded her arms, regretting letting him in. Was he going to judge her or be politely condescending?
“I’m the artist, darling, and you’re merely my creation,” Delong liked to say in an indulgent tone when she offered him a design or tried to sketch something of her own. “Why do you need to create art when you’re a masterpiece?”
“These are just sketches of new designs,” she said when JD lingered over her drawing table. His silent study grated on her nerves.
“And this is a custom-made design for a client. I sell my items on consignment through a small gift shop in town, and I have an associate who takes several of my pieces to local art shows and sells them there.”
JD watched her with such intensity she suddenly felt tongue-tied. “It’s a good business,” she said defensively.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” he said in a low voice.
“You haven’t said anything.”
“Because I don’t know what to say. You sell locally?”
“Yes,” she said, proud that her work was selling.
“Why not expand?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“You should.” He shrugged. “I’d expected some cute homemade trinkets, but these are stunning. Museum quality. You shouldn’t only be selling them to tourists and secondhand shoppers. These are world class. It’s evident that you’ve studied internationally. I haven’t seen patterns like this since my trip to Benin and Nigeria.” He lifted a sketch and moved over to the light. “This one makes me think of Marrakech—the fusion of artistic vision captured in one small object. What’s your company called?”
“The Silver Stone.”
He nodded. “Good. It rings true.” He sat down at her drawing table. “What was the inspiration behind this?” He gestured to a set of earrings.
“The peacock. I was traveling in Malaysia and I saw one and it captivated me. The colors were extraordinary.”
“Yes, I can see that. Put them on for me.”
Monica stared at him for a moment, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “Why?”
“Because I’m thinking of buying them as a gift for a friend and want to see if the set will work.”
An intimate friend? Monica wanted to ask then scolded herself for even caring. Of course he did. He probably had several. He was an attractive man. Even she had nearly fallen under the spell of his casual flirtation. And she wouldn’t think about the kiss. He’d never mentioned it because it had been an impulsive act that hadn’t meant anything. But there was no way she’d put on her creations and be compared to the glamorous and stylish women he knew. “Use your imagination.”
“I just want to see them on a real person.”
“It will be like draping crystal around a tree trunk.”
“You’re a lot prettier than a tree trunk and this will take less than a minute. Your ears are pierced, so you must have worn jewelry at some point. Come on,” he said in a silky, persuasive voice.
Monica sighed then put the earrings on. He helped her clasp the matching necklace, the knuckles of his hand brushing against her skin, causing it to tingle. She abruptly turned to him, steeling herself from his affect on her. “There,” she said in a sharp tone, trying to be nonchalant. “Doesn’t that give you an idea?”
JD rubbed his chin, letting his gaze roam over her in a slow, lazy appraisal, making her body grow warm as the seconds stretched. “No, that won’t work.” He looked at another pair. “Try this set.”
She hesitated. “I don’t—”
“Just one more,” he said in the same silky voice.
Reluctantly, Monica obliged, and again his penetrating gaze seemed to undress her, peeling the layers back off her ugly paisley dress and tinted glasses as though he could see who she really was. He looked at her as if she was stunningly beautiful, and it frightened her.
He shook his head again and smiled. “Why don’t we—”
It was the smile that did it. It was superior and smug, and she realized it had all been a game. JD hadn’t been looking at her with any real interest. She’d let her vanity make her a fool. She wasn’t Venus. Just Monica, and Monica was a laughable, pitiable creature who no man had glanced at in months. The sharp sting of humiliation pierced her then turned to anger. “Get out.”
He blinked. “What?”
Monica shoved him toward the door. “I said get out!” She shoved him harder, as if trying to get rid of not only him, but also the feelings he had stirred up in her. “I thought you were different, but you’re just like all the rest. Did you enjoy your little game? Was it fun to mock me? It was like dressing up a dog, wasn’t it?”
JD widened his eyes, stunned. “That’s not what—”
“You knew in an instant whether the necklace would work against your friend’s long, smooth neck, how the earrings would dangle against her perfect jawline, but you had to try it out on me—the plain woman—so you could laugh at the stark contrast.” She shoved him again.
JD stumbled back into the hallway. “Monica—”
“‘How could someone so ordinary, so sheltered, create such beautiful things?’ you thought. I know your type—arrogant and condescending. The world revolves around you, and everyone else should just g
et out of your way.” She tapped her chest. “I’m proud of my business. It may be local and small, but it’s mine and that means a lot. I don’t care what you think of it or me or about your big companies and fine women. You’re no better than—” She stopped before she said Anton’s name and steadied her voice. “I’m sorry I ever trusted you. It was a foolish mistake I won’t make again.” She slammed the door shut. JD swung it back open with such force she stumbled back and fell to the ground. He approached her and she held her hands up, ready to defend herself.
JD squatted in front of her, his gaze soft and his voice tender. “What the hell did he do to you to make you so afraid?”
Monica slowly let her hands fall. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. What’s his name?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, in no mood to argue with him. “It was a long time ago.”
“But you’re still afraid.”
“I’m not afraid. Just cautious.”
JD seized her arm and she screamed out in alarm. He immediately released her. “You call that cautious?”
“You surprised me, that’s all,” she said, embarrassed by her reaction. He must think I’m crazy.
“I’ve never hit a woman in my life.” He nodded to his wound. “And trust me, I’ve had reason to.”
“It’s not that.”
He held out his hand. “Why don’t we start again as friends?”
Monica lowered her gaze.
JD dropped his hand. “For the last several days you’ve treated me like a pariah and I’ve left you alone, but we’ll be sharing this space for about two months. I’m not going to pretend that you don’t exist, and I want you to do the same.”
Monica scrambled to her feet and dusted off her dress, wishing he didn’t sound so sincere.
JD didn’t stand. He remained kneeling and looked up at her, bewildered. “I like you, okay? Really. It surprised the hell out of me, too. You’re not my type at all, but there’s something about you.” He shook his head, amazed. “I can’t explain it.” He rose to his feet. “I like you. It’s as simple as that, and if you gave me a chance I think you’d like me, too.”
Monica folded her arms and turned away. She did like him. That was the problem. She liked him more than she wanted to. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m just not used to this.”
JD walked up behind her, close but not touching. “I could make you get used to it real fast.” He slowly turned her around to face him. “I think you’re wonderful,” he said then his lips covered hers like hot caramel over ice cream, his bottom lip as soft as she’d remembered and as delicious as ripened strawberries. He sent her senses spinning.
Wonderful? He thought she was wonderful? No man had ever said that to Monica. To Venus? Yes. Always to Venus. As Venus she’d been called spectacular, exquisite, dazzling, gorgeous. Men had complimented her on everything from her eyes to her ankles. Adoration was a given, but after months living in this small town as Monica Dulane, not one man had complimented her or given her a second look, which was the way she wanted it to be.
JD had changed all that. Here was a man telling and showing her how wonderful he thought she was. Just the way she was. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his solid form against her until she felt the evidence of his desire, and her own body grew warm and wet with wanting. Yes, she wanted him. She opened her mouth to receive him farther inside, and his moan of pleasure was all the encouragement she needed. Monica snaked an arm around his neck. “This is probably a mistake.”
“I don’t make mistakes, just calculated risks.”
“I’m a big risk.”
“I can take whatever you give me.”
“We’ll see about that.” She jumped up and wrapped both legs around his waist then covered his mouth again. He cupped his hands under her bottom and then her thighs, matching her passion with his own. She kissed a sensitive part behind his ear. He nearly lost his balance and fell against the wall. The impact made her head wrap come loose, but she didn’t care. She could ride him for miles.
Monica ripped open his shirt and took one of his nipples into her mouth and let her tongue tease it. And she would have done a lot more, if her glasses hadn’t started sliding off her face. She quickly remembered where she was and who she was supposed to be: Monica. Shy, retiring Monica would not suck a man’s nipples and ride him like a bronco.
Monica abruptly pulled away and shoved her glasses back on her face, appalled by her behavior. “I’m so sorry.”
JD stared at her, startled and breathless. “About what? That was amazing.” His eyes scanned the length of her as though removing her clothing. “You’re amazing.” He pushed himself from the wall and walked toward her with purpose.
Monica took a hasty step back. “My God, what do you see?”
JD halted and furrowed his brows. “What?”
Monica threw out her arms, wanting to laugh. It was so absurd that this gorgeous man was attracted to her. She saw the night sky behind him and thought of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Clearly a trickster was creating havoc in her life, just as he had in that play where the fairy queen fell in love with the ugly character Bottom. It was as if JD was under a spell. “Tell me what you see that’s so wonderful.” She let her hands fall. “I’m plain. I’m fine with that. I’m twenty pounds overweight—”
JD shook his head. “You’re not overweight. You’re just the right size.”
She ignored him. “I wear dull clothes, tinted glasses—”
“Why do you have to wear them?”
Monica paused, surprised by the question. Hadn’t Nadine told him? “I’m sensitive to light.”
“Even in the house? I could make the lights dim.”
She adjusted her head wrap. “I’m sensitive to all kinds of light.”
“Oh.”
Monica scratched her head. “Now what was I saying?”
“I don’t remember.”
She narrowed her eyes, catching his quick grin. “I do. I was talking about what you see in me. How we’re completely mismatched because I’m plain and—”
“So what?”
“What?”
“You don’t seem to care, so why should I?” He pressed a finger to her lips before she could argue. “Let me tell you what I see. I see a confident woman who can handle a rifle when she needs to. A smart woman who runs her own business. A talented woman who creates extraordinary jewelry, and a woman with lips that taste so sweet she leaves me hungry for more.”
His mouth covered hers again. She didn’t stop him. If he was under a spell, so was she. Delong had been her only lover and he’d been ardent and sensual, but he’d never made her feel like this.
JD’s lips slid to her neck. “I could strip you naked right now.”
“But you won’t.”
“I will next time.”
And she wanted him to. But not now. She had to plan it. She had to be careful. Monica drew away. “We’d better stop.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re scaring me.”
He stepped back, startled and concerned. “What?”
Monica shook her head, regretting her choice of words. “No, not you…I mean this. It’s all happening too fast.”
JD let out a deep breath. “All right, we’ll take it slow. Just give me a minute. Let the beast go back in its cage.”
“You call it a beast?”
“Only when it’s disappointed.”
She caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not helping matters by touching me like that.”
She snatched her hand away. “I’m—”
“And don’t apologize again. I understand—I don’t like it—but I do.” He traced the pattern of her necklace with his finger. “It’s beautiful, but if I were to buy you jewelry, it would be a simple set of pearls—elegant, simple and exquisite.”
“You have a tongue made of honey.”
He winked. “You should know.”
Monica felt her face grow hot thinking of what his tongue had been up to, but she didn’t turn away. She took his hand. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
JD wasn’t hungry so Monica made a simple meal of a grilled cheese sandwich and bowl of tomato soup for herself. They went into the family room and watched a NOVA special. Although the program was interesting, JD seemed especially quiet. He stared at the screen but his attention seemed to be elsewhere. Was he brooding because she’d halted what they’d been doing upstairs? She remembered that her husband could sulk for days if he didn’t get his way.
“Do you want to change the station?” she asked.
“No, it’s fine.”
She sighed. “I know you’re annoyed with me for stopping everything, but it really was moving too fast.”
He turned to her. “I’m not annoyed.”
Monica began to relax. “Then why have you been so quiet? What’s wrong?”
“I was thinking about Gran.” He hesitated. “I’m worried about her. She didn’t seem herself tonight, and I hated leaving her alone.”
“Invite her over for dinner tomorrow.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course I wouldn’t mind. Why would I?”
“I know how much you like your privacy and space.”
“I’ve grown to love her. If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t have a place to stay.”
JD leaned over and kissed Monica on the cheek then stood and pulled out his cell phone. “Thanks. I’ll call her right now.” He disappeared into the other room.
Monica touched her cheek like a moonstruck teenager who’d been kissed by a rock star. The feel of his lips made her want to tell him the truth. “Monica?”
She turned and saw JD frowning, the phone pressed to his chest. “She won’t come?” she asked him.
He shook his head and his frown deepened. “No,” he replied. “It’s not that. She’s determined to be the one to cook dinner.”
Monica held out her hand. “Give me the phone.”
JD hesitated. “She’s stubborn.”
