Wonders Never Cease (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 11

  She looked down at her big toe sticking through a hole in her nylons. At least he gave me a brand-new toothbrush and minty toothpaste when we got here.

  Jill moved to a shelf filled with cookbooks. “Do you actually cook this kind of stuff?” she asked, selecting one on Cajun cuisine. “I’ve become a McDonald’s junkie since my divorce.”

  She caught the obvious sneer that Ben sent Czar. “What? You’re not a fan of express cuisine?”

  Ben dropped a tea bag in a cup. “Czar and I are a bit more finicky than that, right boy?”

  Czar shook his head.

  Jill sighed and took out a colorful little book with ice-cream cones dripping with chocolate and colorful sprinkles on the cover. “I used to be a gourmet cook, you know. I studied with a French chef when we were living in Denver. Used to impress the heck out of Peter’s clients.”

  “But now you prefer fast food?”

  Rather than reveal her pathetic excuse for a social life—frozen pizza and cat food—Jill flipped open the book. On the inside page was an inscription in red crayon: To Uncle Ben. Love, yur neice, Jenny.

  “Your niece and I have something in common, we both love ice cream.”

  He glanced at her as he popped the cup in the microwave. He pressed a couple of buttons then returned to the refrigerator. When he straightened, his hands were filled with sandwich makings: bread, cheese, mustard, sprouts.

  Jill put back the book and walked to the bay window in what was meant to be the dining room. Czar followed. She stroked his long handsome nose, trying to keep the more sordid aspects of the evening out of her mind.

  “What time do you have to be at work in the morning?” Ben asked.

  Jill turned to look at him. His large, capable hands deftly slathered bright yellow mustard on dark brown bread. He cut several slices of cheese from a thick brick then arranged some sprouts on top of that.

  Jill pictured the contents of her fridge and, for some reason, felt less womanly—and slightly put out. “I usually go in around eight.”

  The microwave beeped for his attention.

  “I’ll pick you up at seventy-thirty then,” he said, delivering her cup to the island. “Let this steep a few minutes,” he advised.

  “Not necessary. There’s a bike path right behind my house. I can take it straight to work.”

  He didn’t say anything. Instead, he opened a cupboard and took out a plate for his sandwich. “Are you sure I can’t fix you something to eat?”

  Jill put a hand to her belly. “No, thanks. That little nap in the tow truck helped, but I still feel a bit queasy…” She sighed. “I can’t believe you’re being so nice about this. Peter would have been utterly repelled. My mother would be rolling over in her grave, if she were dead.”

  Ben laughed. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It would if you knew my mother.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  Jill shook her head. “Are you nuts? And ruin a perfectly wonderful evening?” she asked facetiously.

  His grin was too intimate, too knowing. Jill dropped to one knee and motioned for Czar to come close. The dog nuzzled the side of her face as if to say he understood completely. In a way, she was a little envious of the beast. It was obvious from observing them that first afternoon that Ben and Czar shared a bond few friends could claim.

  You could tell me what’s going on in your master’s head, couldn’t you? she silently asked, holding Czar’s head between her hands.

  His soulful eyes seemed to say, Of course.

  “Your tea is ready,” Ben said.

  Jill gave in to the temptation to study Ben. He hadn’t changed clothes, but had kicked off his shoes and opened the top three little pearl buttons of his shirt. The tiny vertical pleats running from shoulder to waist were rumpled, with traces of mascara in spots.

  “I’ll have your tux cleaned, by the way,” Jill said.

  “No.”

  He turned his back to her to reach into an overhead cupboard for a glass. The long clean line of black trousers over a tightly sculpted butt made her mouth fill with moisture. He’d be gorgeous naked.

  Jill wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her jersey pants. She couldn’t believe such a thing had entered her mind. She reached for the glass of water she’d left on the countertop. It was the first thing Ben had given her when they entered the house, even before he’d taken off his jacket.

  Why deny it? She was attracted to this man. Big time. But what to do about it was something else altogether. Even without the external issues facing her, there was the matter of her self-esteem. Peter had done a number on her, and Jill wasn’t sure she trusted herself to fall in love.

  A sound intruded into her thoughts and she realized Ben was staring at her with an inquiring look on his face. She felt herself blush. Putting the cart before the horse, aren’t I? “Sorry, a wandering mind.”

  “Probably from malnutrition. Won’t you at least try some yogurt? It would help restore some good flora to your stomach.”

  The concern in his eyes made her agree to try it.

  “Good,” he said, returning a second later with a small carton of peach yogurt. He set it beside her tea then walked around the counter to join her.

  The counter separated the kitchen from a rather cavernous room with a vaulted ceiling and a bank of sliding glass doors partially hidden behind tan and white floor-length drapes.

  Looking down, she watched Czar sprawl on the floor beside her with a weighty sigh. Jill sympathized. It had been a tough night.

  She opened her carton of yogurt and absently stirred the pale peach concoction. “Good thing it’s not strawberry,” she said without thinking.

  “Are you allergic?”

  Jill nodded. “Strawberries and anchovies.”

  “Alone or together?”

  The humor in his tone made her grin. “Doesn’t matter. They both make me break out in hives.”

  “Czar loves anchovies.”

  Jill froze—spoon halfway to her mouth. “I beg your pardon?”

  Ben’s eyes were twinkling in the indirect light. “Pizza is our mutual splurge. Veggie on my side, meat-lovers on his. With anchovies.”

  Something too sweet for words blossomed inside her chest. He buys his dog pizza.

  Apparently not realizing the effect his words had had on her, he sat down in the chair beside her and started to eat his sandwich.

  Czar, however, was looking at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. A rush of heat filled her cheeks.

  “Is the tea still too hot?” Ben asked.

  Flustered, Jill shook a big gulp. She winced as it went down. “Nope. Just great. Thanks.”

  They ate in a companionable silence broken only by Czar’s occasional snore. The yogurt tasted good, but Jill only took a few bites. She didn’t think her stomach was ready for too much.

  “All done?” he asked.

  Jill leaned against the backrest and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened to me, but I don’t want to risk another attack.”

  “Drink your tea, I added a couple of herbs that will help replace what you lost earlier.”

  She grimaced. “This whole night has a sort of surreal quality—as though I were standing outside my body watching it happen to someone else.”

  He chewed thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything. Fleetingly, Jill wondered if silence was a police ploy to get people to confess things they had no intention of confessing.

  She picked up her mug—a big, yellow, ceramic vessel bearing a Magic Mountain logo. Its warmth soaked into her fingers. “You probably think I overreacted, right? Granted I was borderline hysterical when I thought you were leaving me alone on the road, but what if the mechanic finds out someone tampered with my brakes?”

  Ben took another bite of sandwich. When he was done chewing, he washed it down with a swig of tea then said, “That’s tomorrow’s topic.”

  Jill shivered. The thought of someone deliberately trying to hurt her was t
errifying. “Am I crazy to be worried?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “I was there, remember? Something was definitely wrong with your brakes. Tomorrow, we’ll find out the cause. There’s nothing we can do about it tonight.” He put a hand on her arm. “I don’t want you to think I’m trivializing your fear, Jill, but I usually advise people who have been through a traumatic experience to focus on what’s coming at them, not what they just went through.”

  “Right,” Jill said dryly. “Otherwise they’ll miss that jab to the nose.”

  His lips twitched. Jill wished she was brave enough to kiss him, just lean over and put her lips on his and forget about everything else. But with her emotions riding so close to the surface, it was a bad idea. “You’re right. I’ll just have to wait until I’ve talked with the mechanic tomorrow.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to give him a call myself. I can tell him exactly what it felt like when I pumped the brakes.”

  “Sure. I’d appreciate that.” As she reached for her glass of water, a nerve in her neck became pinched and she flinched.

  “Does your neck hurt?”

  She rolled her shoulders. “Not as much as my stomach muscles.” She rubbed her midsection right at the bottom of her ribs. “I didn’t realize vomiting was so physical.”

  “Well, let’s get you into the hot tub,” he said. “It might help your aching muscles.”

  Jill hesitated. She was tempted, but…

  “My sister left a suit here. You’re about the same size.”

  Hot, steamy water. Relaxing. Soothing. Ben. Seminaked. She looked at Czar, who wagged his tail and seemed to smile his encouragement.

  “What time is it?”

  “Nine-thirty.”

  Early. Too early. Too much time to worry and wonder and stress.

  “Okay. Let’s do it—go hot-tubbing,” she clarified.

  His grin made her blush. “Anybody ever tell you you have a way with words?”

  His chuckle was big brother–like. He rose and pulled out her chair like a gentleman. The man was nearly perfect, Jill thought. Too bad she couldn’t get involved with him, because she sure did like him. A lot.

  CHAPTER SIX

  JILL GAZED at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. The bikini—three scraps of bright blue fabric adorned with dainty yellow flowers—was a bit snug, but it would have to do.

  For modesty’s sake, she tried using her sweatshirt as a cover-up, but it made her legs look like two white clothes-pins supporting a bag of laundry. After tossing it aside, she tiptoed down the hallway. Ben had promised to leave a towel on his bed. “Go through my room,” he’d advised. “I haven’t repaired all the decking outside. It’s the safest route.”

  Yeah, right. Safe, she thought dryly as she checked out his bedroom. Masculine, orderly. Pewter walls with textured vertical blinds at both the large window and across one-half of the sliding patio door. A bedspread of Native-American design in gray, burgundy, black and turquoise topped the king-size bed. Oriental runners stretched across sections of beautiful hardwood flooring.

  “Nice,” she whispered.

  After checking to make sure Ben wasn’t in view, she dashed across the room to pick up the big burgundy towel at the foot of the bed. Just as she leaned over, something cold touched the back of her thigh. She let out a squeal and vaulted to the bed.

  The door to the right opened and Ben appeared, dressed in black boxer trunks. No shirt. He glanced at her then looked at Czar, who wagged his tail.

  Jill instantly realized what had happened.

  “Czar,” Ben said sharply.

  Dancing from foot to foot to keep her balance, Jill was positive every red blood cell in her body had congregated in her face. “Don’t scold him. I overreacted. I forgot he was here.”

  Ben put out his hand to help her down from the bed. “Sorry.”

  “It…it’s okay,” she stuttered.

  He looked at her—his gaze lingering in a very male way.

  “Your sister must be smaller than me,” she said, reaching past him for a towel.

  “You look amazing,” he said, an impish smile flitting about his sensual lips. “But…that’s Jenny’s suit, not Joely’s. I didn’t know my niece left one here.”

  Jill snatched the towel to her chest and wrapped it around her. “Your teenage niece? No wonder it’s tight. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “I know. You blush the prettiest shade of pink.” He took a step closer. She could feel his warm breath on her bare neck and shoulders when he said, “Don’t tell her I said so, but it looks a lot better on you. If she looked this sexy, her father would never let her out of the house.”

  Jill’s embarrassment disappeared. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had called her sexy. Under Ben’s scrutiny, she felt sexy.

  “Ready?” He took her hand and led her across the patio.

  Jill stumbled slightly, bumping into his solid, bare shoulder. The contact seemed to sizzle. He gripped her hand a little tighter. “Have your eyes adjusted?”

  She could make out the spa because of the vapors rising like steam from a witch’s cauldron. Private. Cozy. Romantic. What was she thinking?

  He let go of her hand and hung the two towels on hooks on the fence, well within reach of the hot tub. “I’ll get us some ice water.”

  As Jill slowly lowered herself into the hot, percolating water, she heard Ben speak to Czar. Instantly, the dog was at her side, respectfully keeping his distance but not taking his eyes off her. Jill decided she liked the idea of being guarded; she felt wonderfully safe.

  “Oooh,” she sighed, slipping lower until the water topped her shoulders. She’d piled her hair into a pony topknot using a hair tie she’d found in her purse. She closed her eyes and sank back, letting the warm water caress her aching muscles.

  Czar made a sound and she opened her eyes. Ben approached with two tall plastic glasses. Jill’s heart fluttered in the oddest way. His broad shoulders tapered to a flat tummy; his muscular legs were covered with a sparse nap that sparkled in the light from the windows.

  Her mouth watered as she watched him descend into the tub. When Ben reached the center, he sank beneath the frothy bubbles only to pop up a few seconds later, hair slicked back and dripping wet, like some disciple of Neptune.

  The backs of her knees tingled and something hummed inside her.

  He plopped into one of the carved-out seats across from her. Breathing space. Breathe, Jillian.

  “Are you okay?” Ben asked.

  Jill squirmed. Did rabid lust fall under the heading okay? “Sure. Fine,” she said in a squeaky voice.

  He reached for one of the plastic glasses and moved closer to hand it to her. “Drink. Your electrolytes are probably all out of whack.”

  Something’s out of whack for sure, but I don’t think water is going to help. Obediently, she closed her eyes and drank. Icy drops slipped past her lips and ran down her throat.

  She felt Ben’s finger catch a droplet before it reached her clavicle.

  When she opened her eyes, his hand was hovering as if caught in a war of wills. She understood completely. With a sigh, she set the glass on the molded plastic ledge and slid closer to him, resting her forearms on his shoulders. Their knees touched. “This is probably nuts,” she whispered against the slight stubble on his jaw. “But I’m tired of thinking. I want you to kiss me. Please.”

  Lips, chilled by the air temperature but warmed by passion, met in a tentative, investigative manner befitting both their natures and careers. For the first couple of seconds. Then, instinct took over.

  BEN’S MIND SNAPPED OFF like a flashlight. His arms closed around her wet bare flesh as if he might find a way to crawl inside her skin.

  Jill made a little sighing sound that nearly sent the blood surging through the top of his head. Her lips parted and welcomed his tongue to explore the warm, sweet cavity of her mouth. Tea and toothpaste.

  He shifted slightly so their
upper bodies were more closely melded. Ben could feel the outline of the skimpy bikini, the tips of her nipples flattened against his chest. He scooted his hips forward and leaned back, drawing her onto his lap.

  She jerked skittishly when her thigh connected with his erection. “Are we going too fast?”

  Lifting her chin, Jill pulled in a deep breath. In the light from his bedroom he could see a faint glistening around her lips from his kisses.

  Her torso was turned just enough that Ben’s hand came in contact with her breast. He tilted his hand palm out and lingered over the tip that strained against the wet fabric. Her responsive arch made him gently squeeze the ripe softness.

  “Fast? Slow? To hell with time,” she said sotto voce.

  A certain wistfulness in her tone made him link his fingers across the middle of her back, letting her use his arms for support. The slash of blue string looped around her neck marred the perfection of her beautiful neck and upper chest. Her breasts peeked in and out of the bubbles; the triangles of fabric teased his imagination.

  As if reading his mind, Jill reached behind her back. The scrap of cloth suddenly floated to the surface. Grinning, she ducked down so the water touched her chin. Then the microtop suddenly sailed from the water to land in a puddle beside Czar, who sniffed it with interest.

  “Are you shocked?” she asked.

  Yes. “A little.”

  “Me, too,” she said, running her hands through the water in front of her. “I swear, I’ve undergone some kind of personality transplant tonight. I can’t explain it, but I feel incredibly liberated.”

  She stopped moving. Her topknot tilted to one side like the curl atop a melting ice-cream cone. “There I go again—only thinking about me. Completely disregarding your feelings. Maybe you’d rather not be in a hot tub with a half-naked woman.”

  Ben couldn’t keep from laughing. “Yeah, right. My worst nightmare.”

  She scooted closer, as if testing his interest. “We could blame my newfound lack of inhibition on surviving a near-death experience, but I don’t think that’s it. I suddenly feel…renewed. You not only saved my life, Ben, you’ve made me feel desirable. That’s something I haven’t felt for a long time. Do you understand?”