by James, Sandy
Jozsa. It bothered him that she was constantly slipping into his thoughts despite his efforts to guard himself. He knew he should push her away. He had no right to drag Joy into his miserable excuse for a life, but something wouldn’t let him forget her.
Lucas tried to reason with himself, to tell himself that he only thought about her because he’d been away from home for too long. Because he had been without feminine companionship for too long. The only women he’d seen for years were either uniformed in camouflage or wore burqas and veils over their faces. Joy was just a pretty woman he could admire.
That notion was nothing more than a lie. Joy meant something more, but he wasn’t sure he had anything left to offer her. She was better off without him meddling in her life.
Lucas’s eyes suddenly caught the subtle movement in the grass. His Peeping Tom had returned.
Smiling despite himself, he went back into the kitchen. Quickly slipping on his shoes, he headed out the front door, hoping to catch her unawares.
Creeping up as quietly as a lion stalks its prey, Lucas worked his way behind where Joy sat with her sketchbook. Inch by inch he eased up behind her. She’d be so surprised when he—
“Good morning, Lucas,” she said without bothering to turn around and face him.
“How did you hear me?”
Joy’s laughter floated around him, tickling his ears and making the corners of his mouth twitch to form a smile. She kept sketching. “I didn’t hear you. My heart knew you were there.”
The woman said the strangest things. “Incredible. What are you, a psychic?” He came to peer over her shoulder at the drawing she had been creating. He didn’t know whether to be pissed or flattered when he saw the rough outline of his own silhouette leaning against the kitchen door, drinking his coffee.
“I’m Romungro,” she replied as if that should answer the question.
“Ro-what?”
She put the sketchbook down on her lap and looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m Romungro. My family are gypsies. Hungarian gypsies.”
“Gypsies? Really?” he asked as he moved in front of her.
“What’s wrong with being gypsy?” He could hear the defensiveness in her voice and caught the tightening of the muscles in her face and neck.
“Well, nothing, I guess. I just didn’t know there were any real gypsies left in the world. Especially not here. Indiana isn’t particularly ethnic.”
“Of course there are real gypsies. We’ve got plenty of friends, and there are many Romungro left in Hungary.”
Lucas smiled at her indignant tone. “I suppose that explains the name of the restaurant. So why are you hiding out here again?”
“Sketching my...um...your house,” she replied as she jammed her supplies back in the big red bag that accompanied her everywhere. She stood up and brushed some damp grass off the back of her jeans.
His eyes lingered on her butt. He’d only seen her in a skirt, and the way those jeans hugged her curves... Lucas was having a hard time not staring at her like some horny teenager. Remembering the warmth of her touch as she had read his palm, he splayed the fingers of his right hand, savoring the memory.
She reached down to grab the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m done. I’ll leave you alone now.”
Her words made him ache inside as he suddenly realized he was tired of being alone. “I never said you had to leave. You can stay as long as you like,” Lucas hurriedly explained. Then he thought of the best way to tempt her to hang around. “Say, how’d you like to come and see the inside of the old place?”
Joy’s eyes lit up at the invitation. “Oh, yes. Please.”
Lucas laughed as he reached down and picked up her discarded sandals. “Think you might need these?”
Joy blushed and nodded. He dropped them in front of her, and she slipped her feet into the flip-flops.
“Let’s go.” He led her across the field toward the back door. He had to shorten his usual pace when he realized she was having a hard time keeping up. Heavens, she was a tiny thing.
Opening the door leading to the kitchen, Lucas gave Joy a sweeping gesture of his arm as an invitation to enter. With a charming smile, she went up the small concrete steps to join him on the porch.
Her first view of the house was all Joy had hoped it would be. She was enchanted with what she knew the mansion had been as well as what she thought it would one day be again. Setting her bag down on the kitchen table, she let her gaze wander as she took in every inch of the place.
The ceilings were high. She liked the open feeling the kitchen had, liked how she could hear the whispers of the past swirl around her senses. Families had lived here, thrived here. She ran her fingers across the cabinets and let them brush the walls. Both were painted a hideous avocado green, but Joy didn’t mind. She saw the room differently. She saw the potential.
“Peach,” she whispered.
“Beg your pardon?”
“Peach. This room would be best in peach. And the cabinets need to be stripped to the bare wood and varnished, not painted,” Joy simply said as she wandered into the dining room.
Lucas gave her a cock-eyed stare and followed her. “I hadn’t decided yet.”
The dining room had an enormous old-fashioned glass chandelier that hung low enough to illuminate a table, had one been there. The room contained no furniture, only a small pile of boxes and a large Army duffle bag. The prisms of the fixture were stained and dusty. Joy was enthralled. She let her fingertips caress the glass and enjoyed the ringing sound the pieces made as they fluttered in her hand’s wake. “Brown and cream,” she pronounced before meandering out of the dining room to the foyer. “And a large pattern for the wallpaper.”
“Brown and cream, huh? Nice to know I don’t have to put a lot of thought into the new décor.”
She spun around in a circle a couple of times like a happy child when she reached the huge foyer. The staircase and its long wooden banister dominated the area that opened to the second story. A light fixture that hung from loosened electrical wires dangled precariously above her. The tall walls were papered with a dark blue pattern, but she saw it so very differently, saw how gorgeous that banister would be when the wood could show it’s markings after the smothering paint was removed. And when they put in an octagon window to let in the sunlight...
Joy started to move away without a pronouncement of color. “Well? What should it be?” Lucas asked.
“You’ve already decided on white and wine,” Joy replied as she walked toward the living room.
“Damn, you’re good,” Lucas said as he followed.
“I’m happy you approve.”
Joy instantly fell in love with the living room and its incredible stone fireplace. The thick layer of ash revealed it had been years since it was cleaned properly. She ran her fingers across the dusty, rough oak mantel and tried to summon the ghosts. They sent waves of happiness her way. “You’re so lucky,” she said fairly breathlessly.
“Why lucky?”
“There’s been no evil here. The ghosts are happy to share with you. They know you’ll make the place sparkle again.”
“Nice to know,” Lucas said with a small chuckle that told her he thought she was simply telling a silly story, that he didn’t understand.
Joy arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re not a believer. Doesn’t matter. I can feel them.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “No, I’m not a believer. I’ll just have to take your word for it. So none of the ghosts will...I don’t know...murder me in my bed or anything?”
“You watch too much TV. Green. Like the woods. Not that awful color in the kitchen. And you need a painting of a field full of wildflowers for above the mantel. I’d be glad to paint you one.” She went back to the foyer and mounted the stairs.
Lucas leaned against the banister and watched her climb the steps, enjoying the sway of her hips. He was charmed by her reactions to his home, and he glanced around the foyer wondering what she believ
ed it would look like. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine the room the way she had described, tried to see it through her artistic eyes.
The air left his lungs in a gasp as he suddenly remembered the weakened second-story floor. Before he could shout a warning, he heard the breaking of wood and a small, frightened squeal.
Taking the steps two at a time, Lucas shouted, “Joy! Where are you?” He ran into his bedroom, but it was empty. Hurrying to the first of the spare bedrooms, he saw her on the floor. It looked like she was simply kneeling for a moment until he realized one of her legs had broken through the floor and the other was crumpled uncomfortably beneath her. “Jozsa!”
Lucas ran to her, oblivious to the rotting floor. Crouching down, he reached under her arms to pull her out of the hole. Instead of jerking her free as he desperately wanted to, he eased her up so that she wouldn’t scrape her leg against the jagged, rotten wood her foot had slipped through. When he had her back on her feet, he immediately dropped to one knee and ran his hands down her leg. The jeans were still intact, and he couldn’t find any sign of injury.
Joy trembled while he ran his hands back up her leg. As he finally stood in front of her, she tilted her head back and stared up into his face with those enormous brown eyes he wanted to drown in.
“My sandal fell through.”
“You’re all right?” he asked before he reached out and tugged her into his arms, burying her face against his chest. Lucas stroked the back of her head. “You’re all right.” He buried his nose in her hair. God, she smelled heavenly. Like the wildflowers in the field after a rain.
Lucas tried to will his mind to calm down, tried to still the racing of his heart. He wondered if he would ever get used to the idea that everything here wasn’t dangerous or potentially deadly. When it dawned on him how hugging Joy felt so very right, he almost pushed her away. This was a complication he wasn’t remotely ready to handle.
“What is it, Lucas?”
Gazing down into her eyes again, Lucas cursed himself for feeling the way he did. Something about this woman made him feel raw, exposed. It was both erotic and disturbing. He wasn’t a stranger to sex, but he couldn’t remember feeling the same pull toward any other woman, the same intense need to throw her on the bed and bury himself inside her. To lose himself in her. Knowing it was the wrong thing to do, he slipped a finger under her chin, tilted her face up toward him, and settled his mouth on hers.
It started so tender. Just a simple little kiss.
Lucas ended the kiss, moving a mere inch away, and felt her breath flow into him. So sweet. He thought about pulling further way, leaving it as it was. Safe, innocent, no commitment. But that tingle her simple breath sent ripping through him took his will away. His mouth took possession of hers again.
Joy had been waiting for this, for a chance to share a real kiss. She stood on tiptoe and slipped her arms around his neck. The kiss was dizzying. Her mouth opened to the insistent nudge of his tongue, and when his warmth swept inside, she smiled in her mind.
Pressing her body against him, Joy let herself revel in feel of him. Funny. He makes me feel...joy. She almost laughed at the irony of the notion. Each time his tongue glided across hers, she felt tremors run through her. It would be so simple to get used to the sensations he inspired.
Szivem, her heart whispered to her. My love. This man was her mate. Now, if she could only convince him of that fact.
Lucas broke the enchantment of the kiss, panting as if he had run a six-minute mile. Joy sensed the conflict in him and knew he needed her patience. Slowly withdrawing her arms, she gave him some space. “Yellow,” she finally said to break the tension.
“Yellow?”
“Yellow. This room should be yellow. And it’d be nice if you fixed the floor, too.” She winked. Joy reached down and took off her remaining sandal, turned on her heel, and walked carefully toward another bedroom.
Lucas just shook his head and followed, not entirely sure he would ever get used to the funny way this woman reacted to every situation. He found her in his bedroom, staring out of one of the tall windows. Between the kiss and seeing her so close to his bed, his body felt on fire. It took every ounce of his willpower not to quickly cover the distance between them, take her back into his arms, and make love to her.
But he hardly knew her. Why couldn’t he corral his unruly thoughts? Why couldn’t he rein in this deep desire?
Looking out of the dirty glass, Joy glanced down toward the field. It was amazing to realize that if Lucas had stared the same direction in the same way, he would have seen her much sooner. At least she wouldn’t have to hide anymore. She hoped he wouldn’t mind her presence now.
As she let her gaze wander the untended grounds, she saw a red truck pulling a horse trailer easing its way up the overgrown driveway before coming to a stop at the new barn. “You’ve got company,” Joy said as she turned back to Lucas. “Were you expecting someone?”
He appeared a bit surprised until she saw the understanding sweep over his face. “Seth.”
“Blue. Sky blue. And that picture should go in the dining room.” Joy pointed to her painting and led the way back to the stairs with Lucas following closely behind.
* * * *
By the time Joy and Lucas located her wayward sandal and made their way out to the barn, a tall, dark-haired man had guided a brown horse out of the trailer. Joy went over to run her hand down the gelding’s long, velvet nose. The horse nudged her when she stopped petting it. Joy laughed and stroked the animal again.
“You said the barn was ready, didn’t you?” the man asked Lucas. “You’re looking at me like you had no idea I’d be here.”
Lucas’s irritated glance told Joy he was annoyed, and she hoped it wasn’t at her intrusion.
“I remembered,” Lucas replied. “I... I just...lost track of time. The barn’s ready. I still need to put some fence up for a couple of the corrals, but I got a stall ready for Jack.”
“Jack?” Joy asked.
The man turned to her. “Monterey Jack. He pulled a suspensory and needs some down time. If I keep him at my farm, he’ll blow a gasket because he can’t go out on the practice track. He lives to race. And by the way, I’m Seth Remington. Lucas is obviously too rude to introduce us.” He held out his hand to her.
Joy grasped it and shook hands with the handsome man she had already recognized. “You’re Seth Remington. Wow. You know, I used to cut pictures of you out of magazines and put them on my bedroom wall.”
Lucas’s face contorted in pain as if someone had hit him in the stomach.
“Um, yeah,” Seth said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
She’d obviously made him uncomfortable, and Joy was instantly sorry.
“Not quite as famous now. And you’re obviously not shy.” Seth gave her a wry grin. “And you are?”
“This is Joy,” Lucas replied.
“Joy. Got a last name to go with that?” Seth asked.
“It’s Kovacs,” Lucas replied for her.
Seth arched a dark eyebrow. “Ko-what?”
“Kovacs. Sounds like watch with a V,” Lucas said as if it was common knowledge.
Joy smiled that he’d remembered how to pronounce her ethnic surname. Then she turned back to Seth. “No one has ever accused me of being shy. How long is Monterey Jack staying?”
“Probably a month or so. His suspensory has to heal.”
“Suspensory?” she asked.
“It’s a tendon in the lower part of the leg.” Seth pointed to his own calf as an explanation of Jack’s injury. “I’m not sure he’ll race again, but the old guy has earned a vacation anyway. If he doesn’t make it back to the track, I’ll break him to a saddle and keep him as a pet.”
“I told you I’d break him for you, Seth,” Lucas said with a frown. “That’s my job now, remember? Rehabbing old racehorses.”
Seth led the horse into the barn. “Not my Jack, you won’t. If anyone breaks him, it’ll be me.”
“Yeah, you’ll break him and your stupid neck in the process,” Lucas scolded. “You’ve got a wife and kid to think about.”
Joy and Lucas followed Seth and watched him turn Jack loose in the first stall. The horse lowered his head and snorted around the shaved pine-chip bedding before he folded his legs beneath him, rolled over to his back, and writhed around grunting.
Joy had never seen anything like it before and immediately grew concerned. “Is he all right? He looks like he’s having a seizure or something.”
Both Lucas and Seth laughed. “Most horses like to roll around in new bedding,” Lucas explained.
“Yeah, and Jack is definitely a roller,” Seth added. “Aren’t you, papa?” Jack got back on his hooves and came over to nudge Seth with his nose. As he patted the horse, Seth glanced over at Lucas. “You’ll take care of him?”
“What did you think I’d do with him, Seth? Sell him for dog food?” Lucas replied with a note of irritation in his voice.
“Don’t blow an aneurysm. He’s one of my favorites. That’s all. Aren’t you, papa?” Seth continued to pet the horse like some huge dog.
Joy couldn’t believe how affectionate Jack was with Seth. She collected her share of stray cats, but her experience with horses was next to nothing. “Are all horses this sweet?”
Both men snorted a laugh. “Hardly,” Lucas replied. “Jack is just spoiled rotten.”
Seth gave Lucas a scowl. “And he best stay that way.”
Leaving the horse and casually strolling through the barn, Seth seemed to be sizing up the place. “Nice, Lucas. Really nice. I can’t believe you got it up so fast. Those Amish are a wonder, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, they sure are. Glad you like it,” Lucas replied as Joy noted the pride in his voice.
