He ignored her light humor and gave her another perusal. “You have very tempting dimples.”
She lifted a hand to her mouth. “I’ve heard them described as cute, but tempting?”
Jon sat on the sofa beside her, crowding her so that his thigh pressed against her knees. “Yes, tempting.” He touched the tiny dimples that winked in and out at him as she talked or smiled. They were at the corners of her mouth. “They focus attention on your mouth. Make me think of other things I’d like to do to it…to you…with you.”
The dimples winked, disappeared. “I’d advise you to curb your, uh, impulses. This town is pretty straitlaced.”
He leaned closer and noticed that she didn’t flinch. Brave. He liked that in a woman. “Are you?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“You kissed me back.”
Anne shook her head. “I did no such thing. That was an accident when I touched your lips. I was trying to tell you not to act on what I could see in your eyes.”
“Which was?”
“Lust, clear as the nose on your face.”
“I wasn’t the only one who felt it,” he insisted. “You moved your lips under mine. And your heart was beating like sixty against my chest.”
For a moment, she thought of all the possibilities—falling in love, kissing, teasing, laughing, sleeping together, waking in each other’s arms. Having a home, children…well, it was a lovely thought, but those things were never to be, not for her.
She had the family curse.
For a moment, the old resentment rose. Because of her heart, she hadn’t been in the school band. She hadn’t been a cheerleader. She hadn’t played basketball or soccer.
Fragile, delicate little Anne, who mustn’t become overexcited, overheated, overjoyed. Poor Anne, who’d fainted when the captain of the football team had given her a smothering kiss one time. She’d been fifteen. It had been her last date while in high school. All the guys had been afraid she’d have heart failure and her aunt would kill them because of it.
Her mother’s heart had given out during childbirth. Two cousins had died from weak hearts almost at birth. She had a heart murmur, which wasn’t terribly serious in itself, but it was an indication of the family trait.
She wouldn’t pass it on to her children. To force them into a restricted life when all the world was there to be discovered, to watch them die before they’d hardly lived, to see them fall in love, marry, then die before their children had a chance to know them the way her own mother had? No, she simply wouldn’t, couldn’t do it.
But sometimes she thought of the possibilities.…
She stifled the regret. She’d learned long ago to be stoic about life, to laugh at its foibles before it laughed at hers.
She gave her companion a mocking smile. “My heart always beats fast when I’m being accosted.”
He stood, putting a couple of feet between them. His gaze licked over her like fire. “Accosted?” He gave a snort of laughter and his lashes dropped to dangerous levels over his eyes. “I’ve hardly begun. How about some lunch? The hot dogs at the bazaar looked pretty appetizing.”
She blinked at the change in topic. “Why should I want to spend my time with a known criminal?”
“I paid good money for that kiss. I didn’t steal it,” he reminded her, his mouth turning up attractively at the corners. He thrust his hands in his back pockets and rocked back on the heels of his scuffed boots as he watched her.
“I was speaking of your assault.” She stood and slipped her sandals back on. “Yes, lunch would be fine. My aunt and uncle must have heard about the kiss by now. It will reassure everyone to see me whole and well. Also, it might save you from getting beaten up by my more ardent protectors if we’re seen together.”
This time he blinked in confusion as she jumped from subject to subject with no pause. She grinned at him.
He lifted her left hand. “Those ardent pals of yours haven’t put a ring on your finger.”
“How observant of you,” she murmured, pulling away and running her fingers through her hair to smooth the heavy waves into place. She felt vibrantly alive, she realized. Strong and eager for life. She cast a wary eye on her companion, wondering what it was about him that affected her so.
“Let’s go.” He took her arm. “Don’t you lock up?” he asked when they went out on the porch.
“Not during the day. What would be the point? Everyone knows I hide the key over the door.”
He gave her a sardonic glance. “Is the whole town as trusting as you?”
“I’m not trusting,” she shot right back. “If thieves want anything I’ve got, they’ll get in anyway. If the door’s open, they can go right in without breaking anything. See? It’s simple logic.”
“I have a feeling nothing is going to be simple about our relationship.”
She cast him a startled glance from under her lashes. Again a vision of the future came to her—of her running across a field with this man, holding hands and laughing, a child and a dog running ahead of them…
Retreating to sober reality, she realized he not only disturbed her heart, he sent her dreams into a tailspin. She didn’t understand it.
“We don’t have a relationship,” she stated.
“We will,” he declared.
2
“Would it be rude to ask your name?” Anne asked. She placed the two cups of cola on the table. The cups, one red, the other green, heralded the season’s colors.
Her companion put the hot dogs and curly fries, seasoned with Tex-Mex spices, on the table beside the drinks. “Jonathan Sinclair—Jon to my friends.” He smiled as if at some secret thought while he pulled out a chair and held it for her.
“Sinclair? As in Sinclair Ranch?”
“Right.”
Instead of sitting, she held out her hand. “Anne Hyden, as in the Flower Garden.”
He shook her hand, then held it as he asked, “Should this mean something to me?”
“I’m one of your customers. In fact, I have a big order in for Christmas. That’s only a little over three weeks away,” she reminded him. “It is going to be ready, isn’t it?”
He had no idea. “Would I let one of my best customers down?” He sincerely hoped not. That might delay, although not impede, the relationship between them.
“It’s been known to happen,” she said wryly. She took her seat. He sat opposite her.
She bit into her hot dog. He did the same. She tried to keep her eyes off him, but it was difficult. He had no such qualms. He stared at her, an gleam of intrigue in his eyes, as they ate. A man to watch out for, she decided. A man who could be dangerous to a woman’s heart.
“So you own a flower shop,” he said when he finished.
“Yes. It was a dream come true to be able to buy it when the owner retired.” She’d had to fight her aunt every step of the way, right up to the final closing. She licked a smear of mustard off her lips.
“I’d like to do that for you,” he murmured, his gaze glued to her mouth.
She wiped her lips with a napkin. “You’re disconcerting.”
“Do I make you nervous?”
More than that. He conjured up old dreams of forbidden things