Sentimental Journey (15 page)

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Authors: Janet Dailey

BOOK: Sentimental Journey
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Jessica hugged her arms and turned her back on the fury of the spring storm. Brodie had called this afternoon to say he would see her tonight, but the rampaging weather was changing that. Incoming planes would be rerouted to other airports. He hadn't called her yet, but Jessica was sure he would when he landed safely elsewhere.

The doorbell rang. For a minute she stared at it in disbelief. Hesitantly she moved forward to answer it, opened it a crack, then swung it wide when she recognized Brodie. The dampness of his hair made it blacker still. His suit jacket was almost drenched by the rain.

"You didn't land in this weather!" Jessica protested.

Thunder rumbled. "It was a helluva flight, but it takes more than an act of God to keep me away from you," Brodie stated.

As he walked into the apartment, she saw how haggard he looked. The last two times she had seen him, she had noticed he seemed tired. Tonight, exhaustion had carved deep lines in his face, even dulling the sharpness of his eyes.

"Your jacket is wet. You'd better take it off." She stepped behind him to help him with it.

"Your present is in the inside pocket," he told her when shed raped the sodden garment over a chair back.

Her hand hesitated on the damp material. "I'll get it in a minute." She glanced over her shoulder to see him tiredly rub the back of his neck. "How about a drink?"

"Sounds good."

The storm had broken shortly after six o'clock. Jessica had been so certain that Brodie wouldn't be able to make it that she hadn't bothered to dress. She was wearing the tight-fitting brushed denims and red chambray blouse that she'd put on after work. The storm, her clothes and his tiredness convinced her that the place to have dinner was in her apartment.

As she fixed his bourbon and water, Brodie called from the living room. "Do you mind if I use your phone? I have to get hold of Drew."

"Go ahead," she answered.

When she returned to the living room, Brodie was seated on the sofa. He was leaning forward his elbows on his knees, holding the telephone receiver with one hand and rubbing his forehead with the other. Jessica set the drink on the table beside him and his mouth quirked briefly in thanks. His attention was instantly back to the phone.

"Hello, Drew. It's Brodie,"

The line crackled. Then his attorney's voice came through so clearly that Jessica could hear it. "Brodie! Where the hell are you? I've been trying to reach you for the last two hours."

"I'm in Chattanooga."

"Chattanooga?" The stunned response echoed into the room. "That's the fifth or sixth time you've made an unscheduled stopover there. Listen, if you have to keep holding Janson's hand, maybe we have the wrong man for the job. What the hell's the problem this time?"

Brodie leaned against the sofa back and attempted to loosen the knot of his tie. Jessica reached over and did it for him, unfastening the top three buttons of his shirt.

"I'm not here to see Janson."

"Then what are you doing there?" In the pregnant pause that followed Drew's question, Brodie glanced at Jessica. She wondered if he would respond to that invasion of his privacy. But the need didn't arise as Drew guessed, "You're there to see Jessica, that blonde you took to Janson's place. Brodie, I know I'm butting my
nose in where it doesn't belong. You're as human as the next man. If you have to keep making these stops in Chattanooga, rearrange things. You're beating yourself to death with this schedule."

"That's my worry, not yours." There was just enough snap in his voice to terminate that discussion. "I went over those figures Cliff gave me on the food-processing plant in Memphis, and they told me nothing. I'll be there in the morning. Have Cliff meet me at the airport with something more than what I have."

"What time?"

"What time am I supposed to meet the banker in Nashville?" Brodie countered.

"Nine, I think. Yes, nine o'clock."

"Okay, change it. Have Cliff fly to Nashville. Take the earliest flight. That way I can go over everything with him en route to Memphis. Anything else?"

"It can wait until I see you tomorrow," Drew answered.

"All right, see you then." Brodie hung up.

"He's right, you know," Jessica said. "You are working too hard." She reached out to lightly trace the deep groove near his mouth with her fingertips.

"I am, huh?" He caught her hand and pulled her over to kiss her hands Then with a reprimanding slap on her rump, he pushed her away. "Go and open your present."

Jessica walked over to the chair where his jacket was. "I thought we'd have dinner here tonight instead of going out, is that all right?" It was easier to talk about something else while she was opening the package she didn't want.

"Perfect." His hooded gaze watched her strip away the paper.

"How hungry are you?" Her mind raced through the contents of her cupboards, trying to plan a menu.

"Ravenous. I don't think I've eaten since yesterday."

"How could you forget something like that?" she laughed, and tried to ignore the box in her hand.

"It's easy. I could have had something on the plane tonight, but I knew I'd be having dinner with you, so I waited."

There was no way to delay opening the box any longer. Inside was a gold cigarette lighter with the letter J etched on it, the initial punctuated with a diamond.

"It's beautiful." Jessica admired it for the necessary minute, then walked over to kiss him. "Thank you." She tasted the bourbon on his mouth. "Is the drink all right?" She said, changing the subject as quickly as she could.

"Very good. And very thoughtful."

"Just trying to show a little old-fashioned Tennessee brand of hospitality." She smiled. "You sit back and enjoy your drink. I'll start dinner."

Her choice of menu was limited by the food and the amount of it on hand. It turned out to be more Italian in origin than Tennesseean, with a salad, spaghetti and meat sauce, and warmed bread. But it was quick and hot and stuck to the ribs. Afterward Jessica cleared the table but left the dirty dishes in the sink to join Brodie in the living room.

"Would you like another cup of coffee?" she asked.

"Not particularly." Seated on the sofa, he was looking at her in a most disturbing way. "Drink, dinner, more coffee—are, you trying to impress me with your hospitality?"

Outside the thunder and lightning were stir competing for honors in a violent contest. Jessica was indifferent to the battle. It was happening on the periphery and had little to do with them.

"Come here," Brodie ordered, and lazily watched her cross the room to stand in front of him.

Pulled onto his lap, Jessica met his kiss halfway, her lips parting almost instantly to know the full possession of his mouth, sensual and stimulating. His hands tugged her blouse free of her waistband and began unfastening the buttons.

Abandoning herself to the heady oblivion of his kiss, she could only think of the pleasure her flesh would feel at his touch. His fingers entered the shadowy valley between her breasts.

His mouth curved against her lips. "It must have been a man who invented bras that hook in front."

In the next second, her breasts were freed of their enslavement. Brodie's mouth burned its way down her throat to celebrate their release. Her fingers curled into the springy thickness of his black hair, her hands pressing his head to her. A sweet ecstasy claimed her at his intimate caresses. Eventually his mouth returned to her throat and neck, taking sensuous little nibbles of her skin.

"Isn't this better than coffee?" Brodie mocked her when she couldn't hold back a tiny moan of desire.

"Much better," she admitted in a disturbed whisper.

"Now if you're really intent on showing me your hospitality, you'd offer me a place to sleep." He teased her mouth, making it tremble for his kiss.

"I do have—" she tried to end the tantalizing brush of his lips, but he continued to elude her "—a spare bedroom."

"If I stayed, you know I wouldn't sleep there."

His hand was at her waist and the snap of her jeans gave way to his probing fingers. The telephone rang at the same instant. Jessica jumped guiltily at the sound. She heard Brodie's muffled curse as she leaned over to reach the telephone on the end table beside the sofa.

"Hello?" Jessica avoided glancing at Brodie as she answered the phone.

"Is Brodie there? Let me speak to him," an unfamiliar male voice requested.

Covering the mouthpiece with her hand, Jessica looked questioningly at Brodie. "It's for you." There was a disconcerting darkness to his pupils, ringed with clear blue.

His mouth thinned grimly. "Find out who it is."

She took her hand away from the telephone. "Who's calling, please?"

"Tell him it's Jim. I just got an update on the weather," the voice answered.

Jessica covered the receiver again and relayed the answer. "It's a man named Jim. Something about the weather."

"I'll take it." Brodie took the receiver from her hand and helped her off his lap. "Yeah, Jim. What's the word?"

Jessica couldn't hear the reply as she turned away from Brodie to fasten her bra and button her blouse. There was a shaking awareness of how much she wanted Brodie to make love to her. At the moment, the desire was drifting into the past tense under the brilliant light of uncertainty. She guessed that he had only to touch her again and the light would go out.

"Okay, Jim, I'll be there." Brodie hesitated a minute, then replaced the receiver.

"Who is Jim?" Jessica asked, pushing her hair away from her face.

His gaze flickered over her buttoned blouse front. "My pilot. Radar shows this storm cell should be out of the area in about a half an hour. There's another one approaching that should arrive in an hour, possibly an hour and a half. If we expect to take off tonight, it has to be soon."

"Your pilot? You mean you have your own plane?" Jessica stared.

"A little Lear jet."

"A little Lear jet?" She laughed in astonishment. "I thought…I guess I thought you were flying in and out on a commercial line…or a charter. I didn't realize you owned your own plane, complete with a crew."

"I'll take you for a ride in it some day," he promised, faintly amused by her reaction. "I'll have to leave. I'll probably be back next Tuesday." He rose from the couch.

Jessica looked up. "I'll be waiting."

Brodie curved a hand around the back of her head and bent down to kiss her. It was brief and unsatisfying for both of them. When he straightened, she reached out for him, but he was already striding toward the door.

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

ON TUESDAY, a meeting at the office made Jessica late returning to her apartment. She hurried along the corridor, hoping she'd have time to shower and relax before Brodie came. At the door, she blew a strand of hair from out of her eyes and inserted the key in the lock.

But the door wasn't locked. Jessica was positive she had locked it this morning when she had left. Cautiously she pushed the door open and glanced inside. The first thing she noticed was the aroma of roast beef. She frowned. Was Brodie here? Had he arrived earlier and persuaded the manager to let him in?

Walking inside, she closed the door. "Hello?" she called.

A girl stuck her blond head around the corner of the kitchen, "Well, it's about time you got home."

"Jordanna!" Jessica stared at her sister. "What are you doing here?"

"Surprise!" was the laughing response. "Tom and I are on vacation. Mom and dad volunteered to look after the children. So here we are, two weeks all to ourselves!"

Before Jessica could recover from the shock, she was being hugged by her older sister. "But what are you doing here?"

"We're on our way to Memphis to see Justin, then on to New Orleans to spend time with Tom's parents. We decided to spend the night here with you. It will give us a chance to visit. Gracious, we haven't seen you since Christmas," her sister declared, stepping back to take a look at her. "You seem different, changed." Green eyes, a shade brighter than Jessica's, glittered with knowledge. "It must be a man."

Jessica's mouth became dry. "There is someone," she admitted reluctantly.

"You'll have to tell me all about him. Come in the kitchen with me." Jordanna took hold of her hand and pulled her toward the room. "I was just going to add some carrots and potatoes to the roast."

"I…I was going to take a shower. It's been a long day and—"

"Tom's using it now." Her sister, unknowingly, cut off that avenue of escape. Cleaned carrots and potatoes were sitting in a colander in the sink. When Jessica reached for them, her sister protested, "Pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down. I'll take care of dinner."

Jessica did as she was told and watched Jordanna open the oven door, releasing a new wave of cooking smells. It was the first time she had really looked at her sister in years. Motherhood and maturity had affected her figure, which was still trim but now bordered on the voluptuous. Her hair was rinsed to a platinum shade and styled in a short, youthful cut that framed her attractive oval face and drew attention to her unusual green eyes. Fresh and outgoing, her personality was one of Jordanna's greatest assets. Jessica felt her heart sinking.

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