Sweet Fortune (17 page)

“I see. Well, then, you'll probably want to go straight home to your place and get some sleep.” She gave him a bright little smile.

“You're right about one thing, at least. I want to get some sleep.”

He scooped her up in his arms, carried her into the bedroom, and tossed her lightly down onto the bed. He leaned over her as he tugged the robe free and dropped it on a chair.

Jessie lay back against the pillows and watched with a deep, disturbing hunger as he stripped off the rest of his clothing. She might as well face it, she told herself. She was not going to kick him out. Not tonight, at any rate.

“You can make the coffee in the morning,” Hatch said as he got into bed wearing only a pair of briefs. “Just be sure you make it strong.”

He turned on his side, facing her, and anchored her with a possessive arm around her waist. She could feel the sinewy muscles of his forearm pushing lightly against the soft weight of her breasts. In an agony of anticipation, Jessie waited for his wonderful, powerful hand to glide down her hip and over her thigh.

Nothing happened.

Jessie looked closer and noticed Hatch's astonishingly dark lashes lying against his high cheekbones. His breathing was slow and even. He was already asleep.

She touched his shoulder gently, knowing she was at least partially responsible for his exhaustion tonight. He had done it for her, she realized. She had to remind herself that his motives had certainly not been entirely altruistic. She was temporarily a high priority for Sam Hatchard. He was willing to indulge her to a certain extent while he courted her.

Still, he had come through in a way she had never expected. He had made a commitment and he had kept it. He had even taken on her father in order to make good on a promise to her. Jessie had to admit she did not know any other man on the face of the earth who could have pulled off the feat of getting Vincent Benedict to the school fair today.

“I hope,” she whispered into the darkness, “that you don't think you can just show up like this and fall into my bed any night you happen to feel like it.”

“Now, where would I get an idea like that?” Hatch asked without opening his eyes.

Hatch awoke the next morning, inhaled the womanly fragrance of the white sheets, and exhaled with satisfaction as he realized he was finally in Jessie's bed.

Another turning point, he decided, pleased. Another victory in the small, important war they were waging.

Hatch reached for Jessie and found the other side of the bed empty. He groaned and opened his eyes. A rain-drenched daylight was filtering through the slanted blinds and the aroma of coffee wafted in from the kitchen.

Some victory. A whole night in Jessie's bed and he had not even managed to make love to her while there.

Maybe he was working too hard lately.

Hatch shoved back the covers and sat up slowly. He glanced around with deep interest, enjoying the intimate sensation of being in Jessie's bedroom. Her robe still lay on the chair. The mirrored closet door was open, revealing a colorful array of clothing. A selection of loafers, running shoes, sandals, and high heels were scattered carelessly on the closet floor.

Jessie was obviously not a fanatic about neatness. Just as well, Hatch told himself as he went into the bathroom. Neither was he.

The small tiled room was still steamy from Jessie's recent shower. Hatch opened the sliding glass door and stood gazing at the collection of items arranged on the ledge beside the shower handle. There were a variety of shampoo bottles and soaps, a woman's razor, and a long-handled back brush. The scent was fresh and flowery.

When he got into the shower, Hatch felt as if he were invading some very private, very female place. It made him acutely conscious of his maleness and of how alien that maleness was here in this female sanctuary.

The sense of possessiveness that rippled through him as he stood there in Jessie's shower made Hatch's mouth twist in a faint, wry smile. Everything felt right, somehow, as if he had been waiting a long time for this moment.

When he emerged from the bedroom twenty minutes later he found Jessie sitting at the kitchen counter with the morning paper. She glanced up quickly as he came into the room and he caught the flash of nervousness in her eyes just before her elbow struck the coffee cup that was sitting next to her.

The cup went spinning across the counter. Hatch watched with interest as it teetered precariously on the edge and then went over the side. As Jessie stared in dismay, he reached out and caught the empty cup before it hit the floor.

“Another cup of coffee?” Hatch asked calmly as he picked up the pot and poured one for himself.

“Yes, please.” She carefully refolded the paper.

“Anything exciting in the headlines?” He sat down across from her and grimaced as he tasted the weak brew.

“There's another article about the damage being done to the earth's ozone layer by pollutants.” Jessie frowned. “You know, I can see why people would be attracted to a cult that focused on saving the world from environmental disaster. The issue has the same awful sense of impending doom that the thought of global war has. Don't forget, there was a time when everyone wanted to build a bomb shelter in his backyard.”

“Speaking of which, have you given up that damn-fool idea of using the invitation to visit DEL headquarters?” Hatch asked without much real hope.

“Of course not. I'm going to phone and make the arrangements first thing tomorrow morning.” She eyed him warily. “Are you still going to insist on going up there with me?”

“I don't see that I have much option.”

“Sure you do. You can decide to let me go alone.”

“No way, Jessie. We don't know what you're getting into. You're not going up there alone, and that's final.”

“It'll probably take a couple of days,” she pointed out. “That's a heck of a long time to stay away from Benedict Fasteners. The company might fall apart without you.”

“Don't you think I know that? Stop trying to talk me out of going with you. You aren't going alone.”

“What about the company?”

“I'll leave your father in charge. He's run it for the past thirty years. No reason he can't handle it for a couple more days.”

“I suppose you've got a point.” She frowned. “Are you going into the office? It's Sunday.”

“There are some things I have to clear up if I'm going to be out of town for a couple of days.”

“I see. Are you really sure you can afford to take the time off?”

He raised his brows. “Don't bother trying to get rid of me, honey. I'm here to stay.”

She bit her lip. “Hatch, we have to talk about this.”

“The trip to the San Juans?”

“No,
this
. You. Here. In my kitchen at eight o'clock in the morning.” She drew a deep breath. “If we're going to have an affair or something, we need to set a few ground rules.”

“We're not having an affair.” Hatch got to his feet and carried his cup over to the sink.

“What do you call this business of showing up on my doorstep at one in the morning and spending the night?” she demanded.

“I call it being engaged to be married.” He caught her chin on the heel of his hand and gave her a quick, hard kiss. Then he headed for the closet where he had left his jacket and briefcase.

“Hatch, wait. Don't you dare walk out of here before we've had a chance to discuss this. Hatch, come back here. I mean it. I swear, if you don't come right back here I'm going to…Oh, damn.”

He gently closed the door behind him as he went out into the hall.

Hatch was not in the least surprised to find Vincent in his office on Sunday morning. The older man almost always came in on the weekends, just as Hatch did. Benedict looked up, scowling when Hatch stuck his head around the door to announce his presence in the building.

“Where the hell have you been?” Vincent rapped out. “I've been calling you since seven-thirty this morning to find out how things went down in Portland.”

“Things went fine down in Portland. Next time you can't reach me at my place, try Jessie's.”

Benedict blinked and then started to turn a strange shade of red. “You spent the night with her? You're sleeping with my Jessie?”

“Better get used to the idea, Benedict. I'm going to marry her, remember?”

“You damn well better marry her now or I'll get out my shotgun.” Vincent drummed his fingers on the desk and narrowed his gaze. “I suppose this is a sign the courtship is going okay?”

“I like to think of it that way. Before I forget, I'll be gone for a couple of days this week. Jessie and I are going up to the San Juans while she investigates her psychic cult case. You're in charge while I'm out of town. Don't run us into Chapter Eleven, okay?”

“For Christ's sake, Hatch. You're the CEO around here. You can't just take off like this.”

“Not much point being the boss if you can't take a couple of days off when you feel like it, is there?” Hatch growled.

“Goddammit, this DEL thing is crazy. Don't waste your time on it.”

“No choice. Jessie's decided to waste her time on it, so that means I've got to waste some of mine. You don't want her going into that mess alone, do you?”

“Hell, no. I don't want her going at all.”

“She's made up her mind. So I'm going alone to ride shotgun.”

Vincent glowered at him. “Strikes me she's got you running around in circles. If you can't control her any better than this, I'm not so sure you're the right man for her after all.”

Hatch's fingers clamped around the edge of the door. He smiled thinly. “Stay out of this, Benedict. I'm in charge around here, remember?”

“I can cancel your contract anytime, and don't you forget it.”

“You won't do that. Not as long as you're getting what you want. And so far, I'm giving you exactly what you want. Oh, yeah, congratulations on Elizabeth's first-place win in the science fair.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Vincent nodded proudly. “The kid gets her smarts from my side of the family.”

Jessie lounged in the chair next to her mother and watched Lilian methodically try on twelve different pairs of shoes. The saleswoman who had brought out the dozen boxes did not seem in the least dismayed by the prospect of a customer who wanted to try on so many different styles. Lilian Benedict was a regular at the big downtown department store's shoe salon. She never left without buying at least one pair.

“You're serious about this nonsense of going up to the San Juans to look at some cult headquarters?” Lilian frowned thoughtfully at the pair of patent-leather heels she was considering.

“Afraid so,” Jessie said cheerfully. “I don't like those. The spectator pumps look better on you.”

The truth was, almost anything Lilian tried on looked good. She had the same innate style that Constance had. Lilian was a few years older than Constance but she kept her dark hair tinted close to its original ebony shade, allowing only a few dramatic traces of silver to show. Her full, womanly figure was still amazingly firm and her fine bone structure ensured that her look of exotic sophistication would hold up beautifully until she was a hundred.

Jessie had frequently wondered about the similarities between Lilian and Constance. They were so much alike, not only in their physical appearance but also in the way they thought and acted. Connie, rather than Glenna, could have been Lilian's sister. Both women found her observation amusing.

“What did you expect?” Lilian had once said to Jessie. “Men are creatures of habit. They're attracted to the same sort of woman over and over again. Second wives often resemble first wives, and they often have a lot in common.”

Jessie watched her mother try on the spectator pumps again. “Hatch insists on going up to the island with me.”

“That's reassuring. When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. I called the phone number on the invitation card this morning. The person who answered was very helpful. Sounded very professional. We take a ferry to one of the nearby islands. The DEL people will pick us up in a seaplane and fly us to New Dawn Island.”

“New Dawn Island?”

“That's what they call it,” Jessie said. “Apparently they own it, so I guess they can call it anything they want.”

“Sounds completely screwy to me.” Lilian shook her head over a pair of red heels the saleswoman was offering.

“We'll be given a tour that lasts a couple of hours and then flown back to the island where we spent the night. That's all there is to it.” Jessie shook her head regretfully. “I'm not sure how much I can possibly learn about Susan Attwood's fate or the leader of this DEL thing in just a couple of hours. But at least it's a starting point.”

“Well, I suppose there's really nothing to worry about. Hatch should be able to take care of anything that comes up. He's a very competent sort of man, isn't he?”

“Uh, yes. In some ways.”

Lilian gave her a sly smile. “I get the impression the big romance is heating up rapidly. Connie says she thinks you and Hatch are already sleeping together.”

“That's what I like about this family. Absolutely no privacy.”

Lilian chuckled. “You know as well as I do that we're all hoping you and Hatch will work it out.”

“I'm not so sure Aunt Glenna feels that way.”

“Nonsense. Glenna knows that a marriage between you and Hatch would be the best thing for all concerned. It's the only viable solution to the situation.”

Jessie gazed broodingly at the pair of Italian leather sandals her mother had on at that moment. “Doesn't it strike you that it's a bit strange that Hatch is thirty-seven years old and still single?”

Lilian flashed her a look of genuine surprise. “Didn't anyone tell you he was married once?”

Jessie stared at her, dumbfounded. “No. No one mentioned that little fact.” Least of all, Hatch. “Divorced?”

“Widowed, I think. Connie told me about it. She said Vince mentioned it in passing a few days ago.”

“Widowed. I see.” Jessie absorbed that bit of information slowly, examining it from every angle. “I wonder why Hatch never told me about his first wife.”

“I gather she died several years ago. Don't fret about it, Jessie. I'm sure he'll tell you all about his first marriage in his own good time.”