Family of Three

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“S-say what?”

“Say we should have taken your truck.”

“Uh, no…I think the Mercedes is very nice. Not terribly reliable, but it beats my pickup in the comfort department.”

Almost, but not quite, an “I told you so.” All of a sudden Jacob wasn’t angry or even embarrassed. He had to admit it was funny, really funny. Turning, he looked at Alysia squarely. He didn’t trust her, but he wanted her. Badly. And he felt intensely alive whenever she smiled or teased him—or even when she made him angry.

A moment later his amusement faded as he contemplated her expression. Alysia McKenna was dangerous. He didn’t understand why he wanted her so much; she had none of the qualities he normally found attractive—she was too damned independent and unpredictable.

“I’ll call a tow truck,” he said. “Stay here.”

Alysia’s jaw dropped. For a moment Jacob had looked human, ready to smile, even relaxed, then in the space of a breath he’d switched back to cold and arrogant.

“Fine,” she muttered. She poked at the worn fabric over her knee. The spot was wearing through. Slipping her finger between the threads Alysia yanked, and within a few moments both her knees were uncovered. She was immediately sorry. The action was nothing more than mutiny against her own emotions. One half of her still thought Jacob was obnoxious, the other half responded to the deep wounds he seemed to carry inside.

Problem was, which half would win?

Chapter Three (#ulink_3974763d-c315-5b2c-9989-9e7c7195cca3)

“You have an electrical problem,” the service manager of the Mercedes dealership explained. “We should have it fixed by morning.”

Alysia grinned when Jacob frowned. He wasn’t the kind of man who dealt well with delays or changes to his plans. She, of course, was a big change in his plans.

“Bill, I’ll need a loaner,” he said in a tight voice. “I have to drive Miss McKenna back to Astoria, but I’ll return tomorrow.”

“That’s crazy,” Alysia protested. “We can just stay in Portland and go back together.” The manager cast her a grateful glance, probably because they didn’t want her filthy purchases in one of their cars.

“Fine, just great,” Jacob growled. “But we still need a loaner. And I’ll need to make a call.”

“Of course,” Bill said patiently. “We have a car waiting. And you can use the phone in my office.”

Alysia smiled at the man when they were left alone. “It isn’t your fault,” she said, apologizing for Jacob’s impatience.

He smiled back. “I understand. He’s been under a lot of pressure.”

She looked at him with new interest. “Are you two friends?”

“Since we were kids. Now we play on a charity softball team together.”

Alysia blinked. Softball? He was more a charity dinner and elegant auction type of guy. Softball meant grass stains and dust. It meant sliding into home and occasionally losing dignity. Not exactly Jacob’s style, but maybe he liked the competition.

“Is he any good?”

“One of our best players,” Bill claimed. “He’s the reliable one, always making arrangements and seeing we show for the games. Well, except for the past few months. Tracy’s accident messed him up pretty bad.”

Alysia nodded. She had a good idea of how “messed up” Jacob had been over the accident. For all his faults, he helplessly adored his daughter. Leaning against one of the showroom models, a sleek sports car, she tapped her foot against the tire. “What was he like as a kid?” she asked casually.

“A lot like now. Serious, determined to succeed. He—”

“Spilling my life story?” Jacob asked as he walked up to them, one eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, pal,” Bill said, not looking the least bit sorry. “You’ve got a pretty lady here—a good listener, too. It’s about time you hooked up with someone.”

Before Jacob could protest Alysia smiled and slipped her arm under his. She felt rigid resistance in his body and pressed closer. “That’s sweet, Bill.”

Jacob hauled Alysia outside. “Why did you do that?” he demanded when they were alone. “He thinks we’re involved.”

“Come on, don’t be so serious. You can explain tomorrow if it’s so important.” Alysia climbed into the car, shaking her head. “He’ll make up his own mind, anyway, people always do.”

He made a disgusted sound. “I made reservations for you at a downtown hotel,” he said as they pulled out onto the road.

She lifted her chin. “I can make my own arrangements.”

The tension in Jacob’s face eased and he smiled. “Really? You’re dependent on me for transportation.”

“Ever hear of taxis and buses?” she flashed back.

Jacob stopped at a light and looked at Alysia. She seemed annoyed, energy radiating from her like a bright fire. “Or you could stay at my house,” he offered, surprising even himself with the suggestion. “Unless you think it’s improper…or feel uncomfortable about it.”

Her eyes widened. “Improper? That’s a Victorian attitude. I know…you’re worried I’ll loose my head and have my way with you.”

He fought a groan. The faint twinkle in her eyes told him she was teasing, but it didn’t erase the sensual images her suggestion had conjured. “Alysia,” he murmured huskily. “Has anyone told you you’re a royal pain?”

“Frequently,” she said, grinning.

Jacob shook his head. It was amazing how quickly she got upset, then cooled off. She could have handed him an eviction notice before they ever moved into the house. And he wasn’t sure he’d have been so generous in Alysia’s shoes, considering the provocation.

“All right,” he said. “We’ve got extra stuff there, like toothbrushes and toothpaste. You can, uh, have something of mine to sleep in.”

“Sounds comfy.”

Jacob was anything but comfortable. Even his seated position wouldn’t hide the hard arousal she’d raised in his groin—for the second time in as many hours.

Alysia didn’t know what she expected of Jacob’s home. If she had expected anything, though, it wouldn’t have been a colonial-style house on a large wooded lot. Comfortable, solidly made furniture filled the living room, with few feminine touches. It made her wonder about Tracy’s mother.

“There isn’t any fresh food,” Jacob announced, tossing his suit coat over the back of a chair.

“I’ll check the kitchen. Maybe there’s something I can whip up.” Alysia wandered to the back of the house, looking into each room curiously. She found eggs in the refrigerator and a can of green chilies in the cupboard. It was a beginning. “How do feel about omelettes?” she called.

Jacob followed Alysia’s voice. She was poking into the cupboards and drawers like she owned the place. She kept shaking her head and muttering about people who didn’t have plants or homey things in their sterile kitchens. Finally she plopped a pan down on the black marble countertop and frowned.

“Is this a real kitchen, or just a showroom model?”

He knew she was trying to start another argument, but it didn’t stop him from saying, overemphatically, that it was real.

“Could have fooled me. There’s still a manufacturer’s label on this omelette pan.”

“There’s no such thing.” Jacob tried to snatch the pan, but she grabbed it and danced out of the way. “Alysia, get back here. There’s no label on that pan.”

“Yes, there is,” she said as she darted away, with Jacob in hot pursuit.

Lunging, Jacob caught her by the breakfast nook and trapped her against the table. He lifted her hand and examined the cookware minutely. “See?”

When she laughed he felt the shimmering vibration clear to his feet. “I guess I was wrong,” she whispered.

Oh, God. He stared into her upturned face. She was compelling, undisciplined, beautiful. Too unpredictable by far. One minute happy with her life, the next moving across country. How long would it be before she changed again? Before she discovered that Oregon didn’t answer her dreams, and flew off to find something else?

One night couldn’t hurt, his body coaxed.

One night? Jacob doubted any man could leave Alysia alone after just one night. She was seductive—the way only danger can be seductive.

His finger traced her cheek. “Your face is dirty,” he murmured. Leaning down, Jacob flicked the spot with his tongue, then smiled when Alysia drew a gratifyingly shaky breath. His lips followed the curve of her jaw, caressing the softness of her skin. Her unique scent was a memory burned into his senses.

Jacob knew his weakness would torment him later. Alysia was volatile and stubborn. He could never understand her. All the wanting in the world couldn’t change their differences. Yet she was so soft, so tantalizing. He wanted to trust her. He wanted to believe the honesty in her eyes. When he touched her, the danger didn’t seem to matter.

Jacob tangled his fingers in her hair. Vaguely he heard the pan hit the floor, followed by the pressure of Alysia’s unencumbered hand on his back as she arched into his embrace. Slowly, he reached down and cupped her bottom. Firm, gently curved, molded by worn fabric, it was exactly right.

“What. ?” she moaned when he lifted her to the table, then pressed the rigid swell of his arousal at the juncture between her legs. “Jacob?”

“Just this,” he breathed, flicking the top button loose from her flannel shirt. “And this.” The second button went. The third revealed a lacy bra designed to explode a man’s mind. “My, my, Miss McKenna. What have we here? Such feminine lingerie. You astonish me.”