The Princess and the Pauper (7 page)

“Take me home,” she pleaded in a voice husky with emotion.

“Bettina—”

“No, please, Jesse. Just take me home.” She blinked rapidly.

Without another word, Jesse placed an arm around her waist and led her around the corner and out of sight. Dazed, April stared after them, aware how easily the lovely Bettina had touched an inner part of him. She was so envious that she felt slightly sick.

A few moments later Lance stepped outside, wrapping his arms around her waist and growling into her hair. His imitation of Phillip increased April’s ire. “What did you say to Bettina?” she demanded flatly. “She looked about ready to cry.”

“I
didn’t do anything. Spence was the one.”

April groaned. “What did he do?”

“He just… made a stupid pass, you know.” Lance shrugged. “She took it wrong, that’s all. Come on, let’s get in the car.”

He tried to hustle her to the car as Carrie, Phillip, Kristy and Spencer came through the door. “Tell me what Spencer did,” April insisted.

“What’s the big deal?” Lance was growing angry. “He just kind of grabbed at her and told her he’d see her later. You know what he’s like. Come on, let’s get back to Tasha’s party.”

April was beginning to understand. “Where did he grab her?”

“Jesus, April. You’re so damned judgmental!”

“On the breast?”

“He just fumbled with her blouse,” Lance muttered quickly, a moment before the doors opened and the rest of their group jammed into the car.

April started the engine, consumed with despair and embarrassment. She was with sadistic morons whose hormones ruled their senses. Good grief. She could hardly face herself. What would Jesse think when Bettina told him what Spencer had done?

“He did what?” Jesse asked. So softly that the dangerous quality of his tone made Bettina frown with concern.

“It’s all because of those rumors Stef circulated,” she said quickly. “After all, Stef is Spencer’s older brother. It’s not really Spencer’s fault.”

Rain fell onto Jesse’s bare head, and his jaw set in a purposeful line. It was a sure sign of trouble to anyone who knew him well. And Bettina knew him very well indeed.

“If you do anything to any of those boys, I’ll never forgive you,” she said vehemently. “I mean it, Jesse. Leave them alone.”

Jesse clenched his right hand into a fist. He shoved it inside the pocket of his leather jacket. Windsor Estates boys. They deserved to be taught a little respect.

“Don’t do it,” Bettina warned. “Don’t.”

She was soaking wet, too, from their motorcycle ride together. Without another word, he kick-started the engine, intending to leave her standing in the driveway. She laid a hand on his forearm. “No.”

He looked at her, silently. Accusingly. “Sorry.”

“So help me God, Jesse Cawthorne, if you so much as touch one of those Windsor Estates boys, you’re going to end up in jail. In
jail!
And what about Jordan? What do you think that’s going to do to him? He’ll be right on your heels. Right behind you. You’ll hate yourself for ruining his life!”

Jesse revved the throttle to cut off the rest of her words, tearing out of the rutted driveway and onto the road. He drove with daring. A stream of water spewed up from his back tire, and pebbles of rain slammed into his visor.

The winding road up to Windsor Estates was lined with cars, indicating that graduation parties were still going strong. Jesse drove straight to Tasha Bennington’s house, cutting the engine about half a block away. He strode rapidly up the steep hill, his temper smoldering.

The first person he encountered with April Hollis. She was standing in the middle of the yard, her back to him, hands on her hips, her long black hair lying vividly against a sheer white blouse – made sheerer by the water pouring from the skies. The fabric clung lovingly to her skin. He could see the smooth line of her shoulder blades and the outline of her spine.

“Fine, I’ll walk!” she was shouting to someone just outside of Jesse’s line of vision. She turned abruptly on her heel and splashed through a pool of water as she strode angrily toward the road. She nearly ran into Jesse before she saw him. “You!” she exclaimed, and he was taken aback by her hostility.

“Leaving so soon?”

He was unprepared for attacks. Before he could draw a breath, she was shoving against his chest, propelling him backward until his boots lost purchased on the slippery, wet ground.

“Get – out – of – my – way.” Her teeth were set, her cheekbones prominent.

Jesse almost laughed. He clasped her hand to his chest, more as a way to stop the shoving then to draw her nearer. But the impetus of her last thrust sent her sprawling against his chest. He felt the crush of her warm breasts, heard the breath whoosh from her lungs. Then she was squirming like a wildcat.

“Hey!” He struggled to get her under control. “Hey!” he yelled again, louder. Capturing her flailing wrists in one hand, he ordered coldly, “Stop it.”

“Let go of me, or I’ll scream,” she warned in an autocratic tone.

“Scream away. Just who attacked whom? What the hell are you trying to prove?”

She jerked her arm; it was all the aggravation necessary for Jesse to react in kind. He yanked her forward and held her in a bone-crushing embrace that had her gasping for breath. “Now listen to me, princess. I didn’t come here to play games.”

Though clearly mutinous, she quieted. Out of the corner of one eye he could just see the crown of her dark head. He had the impression of a mind scheming away, devising a plan to thwart him. What in the world was he doing with her?

“Why,” she asked out of the blue, “is your last name different from Jordan’s?”

Jesse lifted his brows. “We had different fathers.”

“Oh.”

She was meltingly warm in the cold rain. In spite of himself, Jesse could feel his blood stir. She lifted her head, slanting him a look. He met her gaze wordlessly.

“Would you mind walking me home?” she asked.

Jesse glanced back to the house. The Windsor Estates voice he wanted to pummel were all inside, save for Lance Broderick, who was on the porch. Apparently Lance had been the unlucky recipient of April’s verbal attack.

“Well?” April demanded, her chin jutting upward impatiently.

Jesse released her, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was fast losing interest in retribution. Bettina was right. His actions could only hurt Jordan in the long run.

The Hollis’s home was about two blocks from the Benningtons’. Head bent against the rain, he started up the street, with April walking silently at his side.

At the gate to her house, she suddenly drew in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry about Bettina,” she said, surprising Jesse down to his socks. “Spencer Tamblin is such an ass.”

“Mmm.”

She licked rain from her lips. “Would you like to come in?”

Jesse glanced at the field stone manor house. “No, thanks.”

“There’s a gazebo in the back, where we could at least be dry. I’d really like to talk to you.”

Every bit of common sense he possessed warned him not to. April Hollis was the epitome of everything he loathed and distrusted.

“Please,” she said softly. “It’s graduation night.”

When she walked through the gateway, he reluctantly followed.

The gazebo was shrouded by maple trees, whose spring leaves were shimmering with rain. April walked to the center of the eight-sided structure and sat on the light, filigreed wrought iron bench. Jesse stood to one side, his gaze on the massive roof of the house that was just visible above the trees.

“You’re soaking wet,” April observed. Now that she’d talked him into joining her, she wasn’t sure what to do with him.

“So are you.” He glanced her way.

“So why were you at Tasha’s?”

“Retribution.”

April smiled in spite of everything. “Against Spencer?”

“The ass himself.”

April laughed. As if the music of her laughter finally reached him, Jesse walked to the bench and propped one foot against its feet. April smiled at him engagingly. “Can I ask you a question?”

He sighed, as if called to some unwelcome task.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Ask.”

April felt foolish. “Who’s Bettina? I mean, is she someone special… to you?”

He took a long time in answering, and when he finally did, it was clearly with the greatest reluctance. “She’s my sister.”

“Your sister? I didn’t know you had a sister.” April’s relief was so transparent that it made a faint smile appear on Jesse’s lips.

“I have a sister, and a mother and a half-brother. My father’s dead.”

“Oh.”

“My mother’s a housekeeper. She works for the people who lived two doors down from you. She used to work for the Benningtons. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she worked for your family once upon a time.” He regarded her consideringly. “Now
I
have an interesting, challenging job. I drive the forklift at Tamblin’s Mill. But I’m aspiring to be a beer truck driver. Tell me, what do you think my chances are?”

April refused to avert her eyes. “I suppose there’s some point to this story.”

“Have you ever had a job, April?”

It was the first time he’d actually called her by name. They’d passed a hurdle, she supposed. Oh, what she would give to tell him she did have a job – any job – but all she could do was shake her head.

“I’m willing to bet you never will.”

“You’re such a snob,” she said wonderingly.

“I’m a snob?”

“Yes, you’re a snob! I’ve never heard quite so clearly that I’m no good because I have too much money. That’s not only being a snob, that’s being prejudiced. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“Don’t I?” He leaned closer to her.

April slowly shook her head. As an invitation to prove her wrong, it couldn’t have worked more effectively. He slid his booted foot from the seat, paused a moment, as if rethinking the situation, then slowly settled down beside her.

April met his eyes, waiting, her heart beginning an insistent pounding. His gaze dropped to her mouth and his arm stole over her shoulders. He paused a hairbreadth from her lips.

“Are you Windsor Estates girls as good as they say?”

She gritted her teeth. “You don’t scare me.”

For an answer his mouth found the curve of her cheekbone. His lips were coolly sensual. April swallowed, her pulse leaping. She sat perfectly still and grasped the edge of the bench with tense fingers.

“I do scare you,” he said, a smile in his voice.

She turned slightly, goaded by his insolence. His eyes teased, but there was a flame smoldering in their shadowed depths. She continued to stare at him until a small sound of disgust escaped his lips and his hand curved around her neck, bending back her head.

This time his mouth covered hers suffocatingly. The kiss was long and plundering. April’s body trembled. She couldn’t help herself. His hands cupped her face and the pressure on her mouth intensified. His tongue thrust past the barrier of her teeth. Dizzy, she slid her hands up his jacket, clinging for support. She wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the kiss deepened, and moments later his hands slipped under her damp blouse, moving upward to cup one breast.

April tore her mouth free, shocked. But he yanked her to him with forceful arms, crushing his lips to hers yet again. Apart from a small whimper of protest, she fought him no more. Her mind spun at the sweet way he molded her flesh. She was utterly helpless when her bra was unsnapped. The feel of hard fingers stroking her soft skin dragged a moan from her throat.

Dimly she realized he’d lost his cool detachment. His breathing was ragged now, almost painful. April’s breath came in short gasps.

“Jesse,” she murmured. Once more she guided his mouth unerringly to hers, amazed at the desire storming like a hot raging river through her veins.

Jesse realized they were fast approaching the point of no return. He felt it very keenly. Dragging his lips from hers, he tried hard to control his galloping pulse.

“Stop,” he ordered tersely.

April’s eyes were dreamy aquamarine pools. “No.”

“Yes.” His laugh was shaky and it irritated him. “We can’t take this any further.”