Since he’d effectively cornered her into hiring him, his addendum wasn’t fair and he knew it. But she obviously wanted him, too, which to his way of thinking put
them on equal footing.
Her eyes were glazed with desire, narrowed in thought.
But in his mind it was a win-win situation. They’d get to know each other again in the time she had left. That she was leaving soon helped ease his mind about getting involved with a woman who had always affected him so strongly. So did her reticence.
He’d been recently burned by a hot and heavy romance with Kristina, but this one with Lauren had a beginning, middle and predestined end.
Surely she was smart enough to realize the same thing.
“Well?” he asked, staring pointedly at their intertwined hands.
She drew a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “Jason?”
“Yes?” He held his breath.
“Tomorrow morning, my house. Game on.” She pulled her hand from his and straightened her spine, swinging her hair over her shoulder in a sassy display of attitude surely meant to cover her uncertainty.
No way was she sure of victory. Not the way she’d been nearly panting from just holding his hand. Damned if he wasn’t rock hard and ready to go, too.
She turned and started for the door.
“See you then…sweetheart.”
She missed a step, righted herself and kept on going.
Satisfied, more than satisfied really, Jason folded his arms across his chest and glanced down at Fred. “Game on, Fat Man,” he said to the dog.
Tomorrow morning at nine, their battle of wills would begin. As a competitor of the fiercest kind, Jason looked forward to the challenge.
PROGRESS WAS a thing of beauty, Clara Deveaux thought as she dusted the old treasures in Edward’s house. Things he’d accumulated over the years. Some might call them clutter, but she respected them because they had meaning to the man she loved. She’d always been a believer in good Wiccan magic, never a believer in bad.
She emulated her Jamaican grandmother’s ways and lived by the saying, first do no harm. It had worked well for her until that fateful day her father had arrived from Jamaica, determined to marry Clara off to a man he’d chosen. She’d already met and fallen in love with the gruff, eccentric Edward Corwin by then, but she hadn’t wanted to disappoint her father. Never mind that she was already forty years old, the situation had been a tricky one since she was raised to respect and honor her parents.
She’d been planning to tell her father the truth, but her two worlds collided; the tall Jamaican with the flowers, her father moving fast and discussing wedding plans, and the wounded man she loved. Edward had walked into the shop and correctly interpreted the men’s intent. He hadn’t trusted in Clara’s feelings and had stormed out.
After explaining to her father and suitor that she had no intention of agreeing to an arranged marriage, she’d gone in search of Edward. She’d tried to reach him but he’d wanted nothing to do with her. That had been the last she’d seen of him for seven years, until Amber Rose Corwin had walked into her shop to buy a gift for her new father-in-law, Edward Corwin. That had been Clara’s sign.
She’d returned to Edward’s life, determined to wait as long as it took for him to heal so they could have a future. After his hospitalization last year, the doctor put him on antianxiety medication. Mike, Edward’s son, had asked her to move in, make sure he took his pills and keep his appointments. Clara knew the Goddess was looking out for her then.
It had only been about four months, but there was light. Edward talked to her at dinner. Not rambled, disjointed thoughts but real conversation. He’d ask about her day, her business. He had begun reaching out to her at last. Baby steps, but she was so grateful.
She replaced old candles around the house with fresh, new ones, wanting the scent to permeate by the time she returned home from work. Ever since she’d reopened her shop, Crescent Moon, here in Stewart, her New Age gift business was better than ever.
Her home life was harmonious and she was at peace. Maybe tonight she’d kiss Edward on the cheek before going to bed. It would be their first physical sign of affection but Clara felt certain Edward was ready.
JASON ARRIVED at the Perkins mansion at nine on the dot. Clipboard in hand to take notes on the project, he walked up the front porch to find the door ajar. As he stepped inside, a flash of fur whizzed past him, brushing his pant leg as it made a mad break for freedom.
“Hello? Lauren?” he called out.
“I’ll be right there!” Her voice sounded from deep inside the house.
Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, he paced the outer hallway of the large house. He’d never been inside before and, based on his history with this family, he expected old ghosts to reach out and touch him. Instead, all he sensed was an old home with peeling paint, a mildewed smell and dilapidated flooring.
“Sorry, but you won’t believe the morning I’ve had,” Lauren said, out of breath.
She came toward him, closing the last button on her light pink man-styled shirt. Her feet bare, her long hair swinging as she moved, no makeup on her face, she was a breath of fresh air in this stuffy house.