'I'd love to see them.' Jackie took a seat that set Mrs. Grange squarely between her and Nathan. He was eating in silence, like a man who found himself placed next to strangers at a diner. 'Four sons. You must be very proud.'
'They're good boys.' Her wide, stern face relaxed a bit. 'The youngest is in college. Going to be a teacher. He's smart, that one, never gave me a minute's trouble. The others…' She paused, then shook her head. 'Well, that's what having kids is all about. This is a real nice salad, Miss MacNamara. Real pretty.'
'Jack. And I'm glad you like it. Would you like some more coffee?'
'No, I'd best get back to work. You want me to take those shirts to the cleaners, Mr. Powell?'
'I'd appreciate it.'
'If you don't need to use it now, I'll do your office.'
'That's fine.'
She turned to Jackie, and her eyes were friendly. 'Don't worry about keeping out of the way upstairs. I can work around you.'
'Thanks. Don't bother, I'll get these.' She started to gather up bowls as Mrs. Grange plodded out. Nathan frowned at her over the rim of his iced coffee.
'What was all that about?'
'Hmm?' Jackie glanced at him as she transferred the leftover salad into a smaller dish.
'That business with Mrs. Grange. What were you doing?'
'Eating lunch. Would you mind if I gave her the rest of this to take home?'
'No, go ahead.' He drew out a cigarette. 'Do you usually have lunch with the help?'
She looked at him again, one brow lifting. 'Why not?'
Every answer he thought of seemed stilted and snobbish, so he merely shrugged and lit his cigarette. Because she could see he was embarrassed, Jackie let it pass.
'Is Mrs. Grange divorced or widowed?'
'What?' Nathan blew out a stream of smoke and shook his head. 'How would I know? How do you know she's either?'
'Because she talked about her sons and her grandchildren, but she didn't mention her husband. Therefore it's elementary, my dear Nathan, that she hasn't got one.' As an afterthought, she popped one last crouton into her mouth. 'I opt for divorce because widows usually continue to wear a wedding ring. Hasn't it ever come up?'
'No.' He brooded, staring into his coffee. For some reason he didn't want to confess that Mrs. Grange had worked for him for five-no, it was nearly six years now-and he hadn't known she had four sons and three grandchildren until five minutes ago. 'It wasn't part of her job description, and I didn't want to pry.'
'That's nonsense. Everyone likes to talk about their families. I wonder how long she's been single.' She moved around the kitchen rinsing bowls, tidying counters. The rings on her fingers flashed with wealth, while her hands spoke of confidence. 'I can't think of anything tougher than raising kids on your own. Do you ever think about that?'
'Think about what?'
'About having a family.' She poured herself another glass with the idea of taking the coffee upstairs. 'Thinking about kids always makes me feel very traditional. White picket fence, two-car garage, wood-paneled station wagon and all of that. I'm surprised you're not married, Nathan. Being a traditional man.'
Her tone had him scowling. 'I know when I've been insulted.'
'Of course you do.' She touched his cheek lightly with her fingertips. 'Being traditional's nothing to be ashamed of. I admire you, Nathan, really I do. There's something endearing about a man who always knows where his socks are. When the right woman comes along, she's going to get a real prize.'
His hand clamped over her wrist before she could draw away. 'Have you ever had your nose broken?'
Absolutely delighted, she grinned at him. 'Not so far. Want to fight?'
'Let's try this.'
Jackie found herself sprawled over him as he sat on the stool. He'd caught her off balance, and she had to grab his shoulders to keep from falling on her face. She hadn't expected him to move that quickly, or precisely in that way. Before she could decide how to counter it-or whether she should counter it-his mouth was on hers. And it was searing.
He didn't know why he'd done it. What he'd really wanted to do, ached to do, was slug her. Of course, a man didn't slug a woman, so he'd really been left with no choice.
Why he'd thought a kiss would be revenge was beyond him now that it was begun. She didn't struggle, though he knew from the way her breath caught and her fingers tightened that he had at least surprised her.
But she couldn't have been more surprised than he.
Damn it, he wasn't the kind of man who yanked women around. Yet it seemed right when it was Jackie. It seemed… fated. He could rationalize for hours, he could reason and deliberate until everything was crystal-clear. Then he could touch her and blow logic to smithereens.
He didn't want her. He was eaten up with wanting her. He didn't even like her. He was fascinated by her. He thought she was crazy. And he was beginning to be sure he was. Always he'd known there was a pattern to everything, a structure. Until Jackie.
He nipped his teeth into her bottom lip and heard her low, quiet moan. Apparently life wasn't always geometrical.
She'd asked for it, Jackie thought to herself. And, thank God, she'd gotten it. Thoughts of revenge, of making him suffer and sweat, flew out of her mind as she dived into the kiss. It was wonderful, sweet, sharp, hot, trembling, the way she'd imagined and hoped a kiss might be.
Her heart went into it, completely, trustingly. This was a man who could love her, accept her. She wasn't a fool, and she wasn't naive. She felt it from him as clearly as if he'd spoken the words. This was special, unique, the kind of loving poems were written about and wars were fought for. Some people waited a lifetime for only this. And not everyone found it. She knew it, and she wrapped her arms around him, ready to give him everything she was. No questions, no doubts.
Something was happening. Over the desire, over the passion, he could sense it. There was a change inside him, an opening, a recklessness. When her mouth was on his, her body melting in his arms, he couldn't think beyond the moment. That was crazy. He never thought of today without taking tomorrow into account. But now, just now, he could think only of holding her like this. Of tasting more of her, bit by slow bit. Of exploring her, discovering her. He couldn't think of anything but her.
It was insanity. He knew it, feared it, even as he pressed her closer. Sinking. He was sinking into her. It was an odd and erotic sensation to feel himself lose his grip. He had to stop this, and stop it cold, before whatever was growing inside him grew too big to be controlled.
He drew her away, struggling to be firm, planning to be cruel. If she smiled at him instead of striking back, he knew, he'd be on his knees. He knew he should tell her all bets were off, to pack her things and leave. But he couldn't. No matter how much he told himself he wanted her out of his life, he couldn't ask her to go.
'Nathan.' Aroused, pliant, already in love, she cupped her hand over his cheek. 'Let's give Mrs. Grange the rest of the day off. I want to be with you.'
Words caught in his throat, trapped in a fresh surge of desire. He'd never known a woman who was more open with her feelings, more honest with her needs. She scared him to death. He gave himself an extra moment. He couldn't afford to have his voice sound unsteady or to have her see how flexible his resolve was.
'You're getting ahead of yourself.' As if the kiss had been only a kiss, he set her back on the floor. He hadn't realized how much warmth she'd brought to him until he'd no longer been touching her. 'I don't think having an affair is in your best interests, or mine, considering our current arrangement. But thanks.'
She went pale, and he knew that he'd gone too far in his rush for self-protection.
'Jackie, I didn't mean that the way it sounded.'
'Didn't you? Well, whatever.' She was amazed, absolutely amazed, at how much it hurt. She'd always dreamed of falling in love, deeply, blindly, beautifully in love. So this was how it felt, she thought as she pressed a hand to her stomach. The poets could keep it.
'Jack, listen-'
'No, I'd really rather not.' When she smiled at him now, he realized just how special her genuine smile was. 'No explanations required, Nathan. It was only a suggestion. I should apologize for coming on too strong.'
