Dana edged closer, then sat in an old armchair that invited customers to curl up. She’d spent hours in this chair on other occasions, lost in the design books that she suspected Mrs. Finch had started to stock just for her. Though she held one of the newest books now, all of her attention was riveted on the chattering pair at the front of the store. They were just out of view, though occasionally she glimpsed Jason’s blond hair when he leaned forward to make a point.
She supposed it was nice that a man as busy as Jason would take the time to visit a sweet little old lady. No, there was no supposing about it. It was nice. So why did she seem to resent it? Why was she so suspicious of this sudden change of heart?
Actually she’d been increasingly disgruntled this whole week when Jason had ignored her and spent his spare time with Sammy. Her brother had come home filled with stories about Jason’s excellent left hook, his fancy footwork in the ring, his awesome sucker punch. Dana wondered idly where those punches had been when she’d slugged him at Washington’s Tavern. She should probably consider herself lucky that she’d escaped that day without a scratch.
At any rate it seemed that Jason was slowly but surely winning Sammy over. She couldn’t very well begrudge her brother the male attention he so badly needed, but she was beginning to wonder exactly where she fit in. It bothered the daylights out of her that it seemed to matter.
The truth, she finally admitted with a sigh, was that she was feeling left out. Downright lonely, in fact. In a life that had been crowded with work and school and raising Sammy, it was a totally new and not particularly welcome sensation. Mrs. Finch was the closest thing she’d ever had to a grandmother. Sammy was her brother. For reasons that escaped her, Jason seemed intent on adopting both of them.
As for Jason’s plans where she was concerned, his precise role in her life seemed to defy description. In another era, he would have been described as a beau, one who’d already made his intentions perfectly clear. In this bolder day and age, he might have been her lover by now, if both of them hadn’t had serious reservations about such a drastic move. For the past week he’d been virtually ignoring her. Had he lost interest? Wasn’t that what she’d wanted? Since she wasn’t able to put him—or her own emotions—into a nice, neat little compartment, he was troublesome.
She glanced wistfully toward the front of the store. She could just walk up and join them. They hadn’t deliberately shut her out of the conversation earlier. In fact, the expression in Jason’s eyes had been warmly welcoming. In a way, she supposed, she envied them their uncomplicated conversation, their free and easy laughter. Whenever she was with Jason the conversation always took a dangerously intimate turn, and the laughter had a wickedly provocative edge to it that set off fireworks deep inside her, even when they were arguing. Sometimes especially when they were arguing.
“Where did you go?” Jason asked softly, coming up and hunkering down in front of her. He braced his hands on her thighs, sending a jolt of awareness through her. Those fireworks exploded in fiery splendor.
Dana’s pulse scrambled at the probing look in his eyes.
“I’ve been right here,” she said.
“Maybe physically, but your mind must have been a million miles away. You looked, I don’t know, a little sad, I guess.”
Dana wasn’t about to admit to the oddly jealous turn her thoughts had taken. Instead, she said, “Who won the battle over the mystery writers, you or Mrs. Finch?”
“We agreed to disagree. I promised to read old Agatha with a more open mind and she’s going to reconsider MacDonald’s Travis McGee series.” A spark of pure devilment lit his eyes. “I was hoping she’d offer me one of those romances with the sexy covers.”
Dana chuckled at his disappointed expression. “I’ll just bet you were. Carrying one of those around would have done astonishing things to your image.”
“Think it would counteract the stodgy coat?”
Without thinking about what she was doing, Dana reached over and fingered the hair that had fallen over his eyes. As she smoothed it back into place, she felt his skin heat beneath her touch, detected the sudden leap of his pulse. Knowing that she could stir him so readily gave her an unexpected sensation of power. Why was it Jason who made her feel so much like a woman? What quality did he have that wreaked havoc with her best intentions? Compassion? Gentleness? Strength? He had them all.
And that terrified her.
“There’s nothing wrong with the image that coat projects,” she told him, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips.
“Oh?” he said, his voice suddenly whisper rough. “I was under the impression you considered me and my coat deadly dull.”
“A week ago I might have,” she admitted.
“And now?”
“I don’t know what to think of you anymore,” she said, sounding bemused. “Sometimes…sometimes I can’t even think when I’m around you.”
Jason looked every bit as bewildered as she felt. He captured her hand and drew it to his chest. She’d never touched material as soft as the fine cotton of his shirt. Beneath it she could feel the powerful thunder of his heart as his gaze held hers.
“But you feel things when you’re with me, don’t you?” he asked quietly. “Tell the truth, Dana. Aren’t you the least bit tempted?”
Something in his tone pleaded for honesty. She owed him that much, even knowing she couldn’t commit to more than this one costly admission.
“Tempted to go to bed with you?
