He would only break her heart.
Chapter Eight
Rachel didn’t go over to Jamie’s house the following morning to cook him breakfast. She didn’t go over at lunch, and she didn’t check to make sure he had everything he needed for dinner. In short, she spent the entire day avoiding him.
She’d thought she’d have the courage to take whatever he offered, but had quickly come to the realization she was a complete coward. She wouldn’t make the same mistake she’d made with Deke. He’d also been a client, but she’d allowed herself to be flattered by his good looks and sweet words. She’d allowed herself to be swept away by his charisma, putting his needs before her own, doing whatever he asked of her until she’d lost her job, lost herself, and finally lost him.
Instinctively, she knew Jamie wasn’t anything like Deke. He would never belittle or insult her. Instead, his eyes heated when he looked at her, and when he’d held her in his arms, she’d felt as if she was the most desirable woman on the planet.
And that was the problem.
How was she supposed to resist him, when every cell in her body ached for his touch? She’d spent the entire night tossing and turning in her bed, recalling every luscious second of those moments in the pool. She remembered how hot and thick he’d been in her hand, and the deep, sexy sounds he’d made in his throat when she’d touched him. She could still feel the hard calluses of his palm on the bare skin of her bottom, and she’d wanted him to explore further.
Call her cowardly, but she couldn’t face him. Not yet. Not until she got her own rioting emotions under control.
She peeked through the curtains at the house across the street for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, but there was no sign of Jamie. A wooden fence surrounded the backyard and concealed the pool area from view. Was he out there, lounging by the water? Was he angry with her? Did he even think of her?
Her phone rang, startling her, and she guiltily dropped the curtain back into place, even as hope flared it might be Jamie on the other end.
“Hi, Mom,” she answered, after seeing the number on her display. “How’s the cruise?”
“Wonderful. We just pulled into port at Maui today, and we finally have phone service again. How is everything going?”
Her mother’s tone was cheerfully innocent, but Rachel knew better.
“Mrs. Colton talked with Jamie, didn’t she?”
“She’s concerned, since Jamie said he hasn’t seen you yet today.”
“That’s all he said?”
“I think so.” There was a pause. “Why? Did something happen?”
Rachel walked into the kitchen, pulled out a stool and sat down. “No.”
“So everything is fine?”
“Of course. Jamie’s a big boy. If he needs me, he’ll call.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am. He doesn’t need a nursemaid, Mom, and if there’s an emergency then he has my number.”
“But what if he’s fallen? What if he’s unable to call you?”
Rachel closed her eyes and counted to five, praying for patience. “You said he just talked to his mother. He’s fine.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. But I think we’d all feel better if you just went over and checked on him. Not now, because that might seem suspicious, but maybe in a little while.”
“Good night, Mom,” Rachel said into the phone. “Enjoy Maui.”
She could hear the smile in her mother’s voice. “Good-night, darling. Go check on Jamie.”
Rachel hung up with a groan. If she didn’t know better, she might just think her mother was doing a little old-fashioned matchmaking. Setting the phone down, she scrubbed her hands over her face and then looked at the clock. It was past eight o’clock, and her grumbling stomach reminded her she’d hardly eaten all day.
Now she stood up and opened the fridge to stare moodily at the shelves. Unlike Mrs. Colter, her own mother had not stocked the house with Rachel’s favorite foods, and aside from the usual condiments, salad fixings, a half dozen eggs, and a chilled bottle of white wine, the shelves were mostly bare.
With a sigh, Rachel pulled the bottle of wine out and set it on the island. She was reaching for a wineglass when the doorbell rang. Frowning, she walked into the living room and peeked through the window. Jamie stood on the front steps, balancing easily on his crutches as he waited for her to answer the door.
Anticipation and dread warred inside her, and for a moment she actually considered not answering. As if sensing her watching him, Jamie looked toward the window where she stood, saw her peeking out, and gave a nod of his head.