Any Thursday (Donovans of the Delta) (8 page)

“One more dance, Hannah.”

“Just one more.”

 o0o

It was well past midnight when they left the waterfront.

Hannah looked back at the cozy little place and was filled with a sweet nostalgia. The tender way Jim had held her, the way his eyes had deepened when he’d looked at her, the way his voice had wrapped her in velvet—all came rushing over her. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel so much in a long, long time. Maybe too long.

She wished she could press the evening and put it in a scrapbook.

Jim was unusually quiet as he drove her back to the country club for her van. It was a comfortable silence, and she discovered that she liked it. There was a great difference between the quietness of being alone and the quietness of a shared moment. In her cabin in Alaska she’d had years of being alone, and she’d always believed she wanted it that way. Now she wondered.

“I wish the evening could last forever, Hannah.”

With a start she realized they were in the parking lot beside the clubhouse.

“You sound as if you really mean that, Jim.”

“I do.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “I’ve discovered that romancing you is just as much fun as sparring with you.”

Her breath caught at his choice of words. “Was it romance?”

With one arm he pulled her close, so close she could feel his warm breath against her temple. She saw the sparks ignite in his eyes. He was going to kiss her. She could almost taste his lips on hers.

“It might have been—” Abruptly he stopped speaking and pulled back from her. She felt the distance he put between them. “It might have been,” he repeated, “if you were the girl of my dreams.”

Was it hope that shriveled inside her at his words?
Don’t be ridiculous.

“How fortunate for both of us that I’m not.” She jerked open the car door and plunged out into the night.

“Hannah. Hannah! Wait!”

She ignored his calls. She probably should turn around and thank him. For a giddy, foolish moment she’d been dangerously close to making the same mistake she’d made with Rai.

She slammed the door of her van and revved the engine. The tired old motor sounded like a polar bear with a toothache and was loud enough to wake everybody in Greenville, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to be home and out of Jim Roman’s sight.

 o0o

By the time she got home, she’d cooled off enough to think straight. What she needed was to forget about the unexpected glow Jim Roman lit inside her and to follow through with her original plan—seduce him and forget him. Once and for all she needed to prove to herself that she was in charge of her life and that no man could ever take that from her again.

Although the air-conditioning was running full force, she felt the need for some fresh air. She opened her bedroom window and sat on the windowsill, leaning out so she could breathe the night air and glimpse the stars. The peace of the evening was in direct contrast to the turmoil inside her.

 
Ahhh, Jim. Why do you make me feel this way?

Far in the distance she heard the sounds of a car. He was coming. The moonlight lent a magic to the moment so that the dusty rented car seemed to be a glorious chariot and Jim a mighty warrior returning from battle. Hannah leaned farther out the window to get a better view.

Jim still wore the toga with the air of a man who didn’t care what the rest of the world thought. As she watched, he absently patted his hips, then reached inside the car and pulled out a pipe. She had never seen him smoke. Her brother Paul had once told her that he smoked his pipe only when he needed to do some serious thinking.

What was Jim thinking? Was he shaken by the same feelings that raged through her? Was he replaying every kiss, every touch, every look they’d shared, just as she was? She envied him his pipe. It gave him something solid to hold on to.

Hannah stayed at the window until Jim started toward the house and disappeared under the eave of the front porch. She imagined the way the front door creaked when he came through, imagined the way he would be moving quietly so he wouldn’t wake the rest of the household. Her heart hammered as she listened for that one squeaky board at the top of the stairs that would betray him.

When she heard it, her resolve firmed. She’d give him five minutes, then she’d make her move.

 o0o

Jim was standing at the window, looking out, when she opened the door that connected his bedroom to the bath they shared. He turned at the sound of her entrance.

She stood just inside the door in a patch of moonlight. With her swirling red dress and her tumbled dark hair she looked like fire and smoke, he thought. He didn’t smile, didn’t speak, merely stood watching her. Hot, dangerous, wild, exciting—all the things she was washed over him.

“I knew you’d come.” He watched the effect of his statement on her. She remained in the doorway, composed and serene.

“You give yourself too much credit.”

Her tart reply made him smile. Sweet would never be the word to describe Hannah. “You’re not here because of my irresistible charm?”

“I’m not even here because of your refreshing arrogance.”

The offhand compliment pleased him. “Do you find me refreshing, Hannah?”

“Invigorating probably would be a better word. Being with you is like taking a cold dip in Glacier Bay.”

“Come closer, Hannah. I have a way to heat the waters.”

She seemed to float toward him, borne along on the billowing red cloud of a dress and a wave of heady fragrance. Passion ripped through him with a suddenness that made him almost dizzy. He’d never known a woman’s walk could do that to a man.

She stopped inches away from him. With her index finger she reached out and skimmed his cheek. He didn’t move. He barely breathed as her finger moved slowly downward, across his throat and into the mat of chest hair exposed by his makeshift toga.

“That’s what I’m counting on, West Coast Warrior.”

The blues music of her voice hummed through him, tensing his already tight muscles. He hadn’t meant to be bewitched by her.

He caught the hand that played along his chest. Lifting it, palm up, to his lips, he sucked, trying to ease his hot aching by drinking in the coolness of her. He heard her catch her breath.

“Do you like that, Hannah?”

“Skilled lips always excite me.”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes.”

He gathered her into his embrace and took her lips. She was willing and pliant, fiery and passionate. She was all the things he’d ever wanted in a woman except one: She was not and never would be a woman he could take care of. Hannah Donovan was the most strongly independent woman he’d ever met. And the most exciting.

Heat seemed to steam up from them as they kissed. The term “burning passion” took on new meaning for him. He was on fire with need, sizzling, scorching with desire. He wanted to rip her dress away. And yet . . .

His thoughts spun away.
Sweet
. Her lips were so sweet.

“Hannah. My Hannah.” He was scarcely aware that he’d spoken, was scarcely aware that he was moving his hands over her body as if she were something precious.

“Hmmm . . .” she whispered, “you are . . . delicious. I can’t . . . get enough.”

Nor can I
, he thought.
Nor will I ever
. With sudden clarity he realized that nothing would ever be casual between them. What had started as a challenge had turned into something else entirely, something he didn’t want to name, something he didn’t want to think about. More to the point, he realized he couldn’t have casual sex with Hannah.

Recklessly he took one last deep drink from her lips, then he broke the kiss and gazed down at her. With her wide indigo eyes and her tumbled jet hair, she was desirable almost beyond imagining. He nearly changed his mind.

“Jim?”

“Did I succeed in making things hot for you?”

His words hit Hannah like a dash of ice water. She raked her hands through her hair and tried to decide what had happened. One minute she’d been in charge and the next she’d been lost. All it had taken was one look, one touch from Jim.

She drew a shaky breath. The game she was playing had taken a dangerous turn. With great certainty she realized that Jim’s bed would never be a proving ground of her independence. She didn’t want to think about what it would have been: She merely wanted to hang on to the few shreds of control she still possessed.

Without taking her eyes off his, she reached out and loosened the knot that held his makeshift toga in place.

“Not hot enough.”

When she peeled the tablecloth from his body, she managed to look both cool and wickedly desirable. She’d have been pleased if she had known what a struggle Jim had to keep his hands off her.

“Not nearly hot enough,” she added as she ran her hands over his chest.

A shaft of moonlight caught the flames that sprang into his eyes as her hands moved downward. With her index finger she lightly traced across the front of this briefs.

His sharp intake of breath made her smile. “Do you like that?” she asked softly.

“Be careful how you play with fire. You might get burned.”

“I’m a big girl now, Jim. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you, Hannah?”

Something in his voice made her hesitate. Her hands stilled as she looked into his face. It was tight with an emotion that looked almost like anger.

“Do you?” he repeated.

She tossed back her hair and jutted out her chin. “Yes. I know that you want me.”

His silence thundered around the room. Hannah’s breath caught in her throat as she looked at him.

“I’ve made you want me,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

That was all she had, that one word, but it was satisfaction enough. It was time to end the game while she still could.

“You said I’d come to you, and I did . . .” She took a step back. “What you didn’t know was that I would walk away—untouched.”

Willing herself not to run, she turned and walked slowly to the door. She expected some challenge from him, or at least mocking laughter, but there was nothing except a screaming silence.

Keep going
, she told herself.
Don’t turn around.

She made it to her bedroom before she looked back. And then all she could see was the darkness that separated them.

 o0o

Jacob arrived with the morning.

Hannah was the first to see him. Unable to sleep, she’d risen with the sun, put on her jogging shorts, and started outside for a good, hard run. Just as she reached the front porch, Graves Johnson’s station wagon stopped in the driveway and out stepped her youngest brother.

She raced toward him, “Jacob!”

He grabbed her with one arm and waved goodbye to their longtime neighbor with the other. “Thanks for the lift, Johnson.”

“Glad to do it, Jacob.”

Hannah caught Jacob’s face between her hands. “Let me look at you.” Jacob was smaller than the rest of the Donovan men, but he managed to look every bit as big. He was compact and powerful, with the red hair of his mother’s Scottish ancestors, Hannah’s vivid blue eyes, and a rakish grin all his own.

Hannah tenderly brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “You’ve no right to look so wonderful. It’s been almost a year.”

“There’s a big world out there to see.” Jacob turned his face toward the city and got a faraway look in his eyes. “How is she?”

“Rachel?” Hannah need not have asked. She knew Jacob was inquiring about the woman who had jilted him. “Happy, according to the Greenville grapevine. She and her husband are living in Seattle now, I believe.”

“Seattle. So far away.” The fleeting look that crossed his face might have been pain, but with Jacob, Hannah was never sure. He’d always been a great pretender. The family prankster, the vagabond, the one who made the rest of them laugh.

He made her laugh now. Affecting a frown, he lifted a strand of her hair. “Is that gray I see? Thirty and not married. What will Aunt Agnes say?”

“Plenty. Just wait until she gets hold of you. You’re not a spring chicken anymore, yourself, baby brother.”

“I can handle Aunt Agnes. I’ll just invite her to go hang gliding. She’ll be too scared to give advice.”

Hannah roared with laughter. “Remember that Christmas you took her up in your balloon? She gave Pop hell for months about raising such a daredevil.”

“It wasn’t half as bad as the tangent she went on when she caught you out behind the barn smoking a pipe.”

A brief image of Jim with his pipe came to her mind. She firmly pushed it aside. “I never did get the hang of that.” Hannah squeezed his hand. “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? How did you come anyway? Your Cessna? Your balloon?”

“Learjet. Mine. Johnson’s flight came in right after I landed, and he gave me a lift. I didn’t want to wake anybody this early. Especially not Hallie. They say a bride needs her beauty sleep.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Neither would I.”

They looked at each other in the early dawn, a brother and sister whose special bond needed no words. Finally Jacob spoke.

“What does one do on his sister’s wedding day, Hannah?”

She glanced upward toward Jim’s window, then turned back to her brother.

“Run like hell.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

Jacob tossed his duffel bag onto the porch, then the two of them sprinted down the driveway, turned east, and raced into the sun.

CHAPTER SIX

Hallie’s wedding was at two o’clock in the afternoon.

Jim sat in the back of the church, watching. The bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome, and everybody looked happy. It was an occasion of great joy, but he felt like hell. Standing at the front of the church was the reason—Hannah Donovan. With her madonna smile and her sedate lace and pearls, she almost made him believe she wasn’t the same sultry woman who’d come to his room the previous night and finished destroying every dream he’d ever had about a sweet old-fashioned girl.

“Do you take this woman . . .”

The minister’s voice penetrated Jim’s consciousness.
Do you take this woman?
His gaze burned over Hannah. Yes, he thought, he’d take that woman. He’d take her in the pasture behind her house, in the hayloft, in her bed, in his bed. He’d take her anywhere he could get her. He’d even take her to San Francisco if she’d come. But then what? She was as wedded to her career in that godforsaken wilderness as he was to his in the big city.