Naturally Naughty - Leslie Kelly [31]
“God, I’m sorry,” he muttered. Sorry for Edie, who, he’d learned, had been ridden out of town like a scarlet woman by the old guard of Pleasantville. Sorry for Kate, who’d grown up in this tiny house, on Edie’s small income, made smaller by his parents’ selfishness. Sorry for himself, because what he wanted more than anything was to find Kate and to tell her how hard he’d fallen for her on the day they’d met, just over a month ago.
But he couldn’t. His family had done enough to hurt the Jones women. Until he could find some way to right the wrong, he couldn’t let himself see Kate again.
It had been impossible to stay away from her. He’d been drawn to her, easily locating her store on Michigan Avenue. Twice he’d watched her from outside, trying to figure out how to go in and face her. The second time he’d had his hand on the door handle, prepared to go inside. Then he’d seen her in the closed shop in the arms of a tall, dark-haired man. He’d driven away, never finding out whether the guy had been friend or lover. But the image of her with another man had given him some long, sleepless nights.
Like now.
He closed his eyes again, determined to sleep, then opened them as he heard a noise through the wall. A bang. A low curse. Both came from next door, inside what should have been the empty half of the duplex, which belonged to Edie’s sister.
“Son of a bitch.” Jumping up, he grabbed some sweatpants and ran downstairs, figuring the vandals had returned.
Whoever the vandals were, they weren’t very smart. The front door to the adjoining unit was wide open. He easily made out the beam of a flashlight moving around upstairs. Ready to transfer all his unexpended sexual energy into some violence against the intruders, Jack took the stairs two at a time. In the upstairs hall he turned toward the room directly beside the one in which he’d been lying next door. As he burst in, the beam of a flashlight, held by a dark-clothed person, swung toward him.
“Stop right there, you rat bastard,” Jack snarled as he tackled the person and took him to the floor.
“Ow, get off me!”
A female voice had spoken. Definitely a soft, curvy female body cushioned his against the hard floor. A mass of thick, dark hair spilled across his hands and brushed against his bare chest. Catching the achingly familiar sweet scent of lemon, he knew even before he saw her who it was. “Kate?”
The flashlight thunked as it rolled out of her hands, swinging around to shine on her face.
She stopped struggling beneath him and stared up, finally recognizing him in the shadowy darkness. “Jack?”
“I’m sorry.” He rolled off her. “Did I hurt you?”
She sat up, sucking in deep breaths, but didn’t answer. When Jack reached toward her, to make sure she was real and all right, she flinched away as if she couldn’t bear his touch.
He probably deserved it. He couldn’t imagine what she’d made of his silence since their meeting. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she finally answered, her voice shaky and her breathing still shallow. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
“This is my aunt’s house. She knows I’m here, she told me I could stay for a while.”
Kate staying right next door? Sleeping in this room, directly next to the one where he’d be sleeping? Moving around in this house behind one all-too-thin wall so he’d be able to hear her sigh in her sleep or step into the shower?
God help him.
“Now, answer my question, Jack. Why are you here in the middle of the night?” She glanced down, as if just noticing his bare chest and loose sweats. Her eyes immediately shifted away, but not before he saw her lips part so she could suck in a deep, shaky breath.
“I’m staying here.”
She jerked her attention back to his face. “Staying? Here?”
“I mean, next door.