A blush crept up her neckline as she explained in a rush how two separate bedrooms adjoined a relatively spacious central living area that would have to serve as their temporary office “until this little matter gets cleared up.”
“Always the master of understatement,” Jonas quipped, pulling up in front of the hotel.
As grateful as he was that Tara had taken all necessary precautions to keep his mind off the gravity of his situation, it bothered Jonas that she seemed so unsettled by the thought of sharing close quarters with him. Didn’t she trust him enough to keep his hands to himself?
Switching off the ignition, he leaned across the seat. Tipping up her chin to force her to make eye contact with him, he asked her point-blank, “What are you afraid of, little one? Haven’t I always been a perfect gentleman around you?”
That’s the problem! she longed to tell him, melting at the endearment designed to remind her of the difference in their ages. What I’m really afraid of is that you have absolutely no interest in me as a woman. A woman who wants to be more to you than just a loyal employee.
But there was no way she could tell him that, not when she was in the process of falling headlong into a pair of eyes so blue that she was certain it would be impossible to hide any falsehood there. Surely if he was guilty of any wrongdoing, she would be able to discern it just by looking into those eyes. At the mere touch of his thumb beneath her chin, Tara felt the familiar jolt of electricity that tugged at her insides and made mush of rational thought every time he came in physical contact with her.
Don’t you feel it, too? she wanted to ask.
Remembering some of the late nights they had spent working overtime when she had caught him looking at her as more than a mere employee, Tara was certain he must. Ever the gentleman, however, he had never acted on the predatory desire she had seen in those electric blue eyes. And he never would, she feared, unless she gave him some blatant encouragement. A pretty new dress and expensive perfume were too subtle by themselves.
Brazenly she traced the outline of his jaw with her index finger. If anything, she thought that two-day stubble and haunted look in his eyes only made him more outrageously masculine than ever. Indeed, such a rebel could capture any woman’s heart with a single glance.
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you’re the one who has something to fear?” Tara asked in a squeaky voice she barely recognized as her own.
The deep bass tones of Jonas’s laughter filled the car. Clearly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was taking, he seized Tara’s hand to try to stop her from making an even bigger fool of herself. Putting her hand demurely back into her own lap, he threw in one of his patented winks in hopes of keeping the mood light.
“Just in case you’re tempted to play with fire, I promise to keep my door locked. I’m already in enough trouble without being accused of robbing the cradle, too.”
Two
Seething at the flippancy of Jonas’s comment, Tara held her head high as they checked into the hotel. The twelve years separating them were hardly enough to put her thirty-four-year-old boss over the hill. It wasn’t as if he was old enough to be her father or that anyone could mistake her for a teenager. Tara’s feminine pride was assuaged somewhat by the elderly desk clerk’s arched eyebrow at two unmarried people signing in for a single suite. Obviously he didn’t think she was too young for Jonas.
“I’ll remind you that we’re a respectable establishment,” the older man said sanctimoniously as he passed them a set of keys.
Jonas glared at him but declined to explain the situation. The old duffer would probably have a conniption fit when he realized an accused murderer was staying under his inviolable roof, he thought as he opened the door to the suite.
The hotel was the best Red Rock had to offer. Decorated in muted mauve and turquoise Southwestern designs, the suite had an air of fading elegance. The living room was spacious enough to make-do as a temporary office, though Jonas suspected it would get crowded once all the equipment and paperwork arrived. Over Tara’s objections, he insisted she take the roomier master bedroom, which had a view of a picturesque city park. As long as his room had a bed and a telephone, Jonas was set. After spending the past couple of nights sleeping on a cot under a scratchy blanket, he assured her this was near heaven.
“I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of bringing along some of your personal items,” Tara said, producing the shaving kit he kept at the office as a spare.
Jonas could have kissed her. The idea flitted through his mind like a golden butterfly canvasing a field of flowers. Instantly he squashed the impulse.
Running his hand over the stubble on his chin, he told Tara how much he appreciated her thoughtfulness. “You know how I hate feeling scruffy.”
All Tara knew was that she wouldn’t mind getting a whisker rub from this blue-eyed demon. As she set about unpacking her own things, she took decided comfort in the buzz of the electric razor starting up in the bathroom. It was the kind of everyday soothing sound to which she could definitely grow accustomed. Absently she wondered if married couples truly appreciated such simple joys of cohabitation.
When Tara heard the shower being turned on, she marveled at how the thought of such an ordinary hygienic act could bring sweat to her brow. All she could think of was the close proximity of Jonas, naked. The water caressing his six-foot-three body, his glistening muscles, and…
Ten minutes later he emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a thick towel wrapped around his middle. With his dark hair shimmering with water, he looked every bit a Roman gladiator. It was all Tara could do to refrain from asking if he would like help wiping that spot on his broad shoulders that he had missed.
“You look like a nude man,” she said with a smile, then realizing the embarrassing Freudian slip, tripped all over her tongue trying to correct herself. “A new man! I meant to say you look like a new man.”
The sound of Jonas’s laughter washed over her. He did have a wonderful way of putting her at ease in the most difficult of moments.
“Listen,” he said with a lopsided smile, “I know how awkward this has to be for you. I’ll promise to try to stay out of your way if you’ll do the same for me. I apologize for my state of undress, too, but I’m actually thinking of burning the clothes I was wearing. I don’t want anything around to remind me of the time I spent in that jail cell. Being the superefficient assistant that you are, I was hoping you might have brought me a couple of clean things to wear…”
Once again on firmer ground, Tara hastened to make him forget her earlier blunder. “I already put clean clothes on your bed. I didn’t bring much along because I figured it would be just as easy to buy a few things while we’re here. You know I’ve been wanting to update your wardrobe for quite some time now.”
Jonas inserted an injured tone to his voice. “Just be forewarned I’m not about to get a nose ring to go along with any trendy clothes you pick out to bring me into the new millennium.”
It was the kind of warm funny banter that Tara liked to think might someday be a part of their marriage. As much as Jonas would like to dismiss her as nothing more than an employee, she couldn’t keep waiting for him to notice she’d grown up. She was, after all, far too bright and ambitious to remain at a dead-end job forever. Certain that this was the perfect opportunity for her to prove what a wonderful wife she would make him, Tara had every intention of maximizing their time together.
“Remind me to give you a raise,” Jonas said, padding off in the direction of his bedroom. “You take awfully good care of me.”
“I’d sure like to,” she replied softly to a backside that made her suck in her breath with longing.
Seeing the damp imprints of his feet across the plush carpet,