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Jason said nothing.
“Sorry I’m late. I got held up at work.”
The apology was met with silence. Hank’s earlier feelings of guilt were rapidly changing to impatience. “Jason, I’m talking to you.”
The boy turned a sullen gaze on him. “So?”
“I expect you to answer me.”
“Why should I?”
“Because it’s polite.”
“It’s polite to keep your promises, too. Ain’t that right?”
Hank held on to his temper. He recalled what Ann had said about these kids having been mistreated by far too many adults along the way. “Yes, that is right. I’ve explained, though. I am sorry I got held up.”
“Right.” He sounded skeptical and angry. Years of rejection had obviously taken their toll.
Hank tried again with a more neutral topic. “I understand I’m borrowing your room.”
“It’s Mom’s house. She can do what she wants.”
“But it’s your room and I appreciate your letting me use it. I like the posters.”
Jason ignored him. Hank had no idea what else to say in the face of all that pent-up hostility, so they sat on the dock in silence until Jason reeled in a good-size snapper.
“That’s a beauty,” Hank said. Jason almost managed a smile as he unhooked the fish and plopped it into a bucket of seawater. “You’re good at this.”
Jason shrugged, dismissing the success. “There’s not much to it.”
“I don’t know about that. I haven’t caught anything yet.”
After another instant of suspicious silence, Jason suggested grudgingly, “Maybe it’s your bait. What’d you bring?”
“Shrimp.”
“That should be good.”
“You fish a lot?”
“Some.”
“Who taught you?”
“I just did it. All the guys in Key West did.”
“That’s where you’re from? Key West?”
Jason nodded, then said, “Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind?”
“What?”
“Don’t you want to know how I got here?”
Hank knew at once he was treading on treacherous ground. As he had earlier with Tracy, he felt out of his depth. “If you want to tell me,” he said finally.
“I was in jail,” Jason said bluntly. His expression was defiant, daring Hank to react badly.
“Mom bailed me out,” Jason added. “Then she brought me here.”
Hank had to swallow his shock. He didn’t want Jason to see how troubled he was by his belligerent announcement. Was Ann out of her mind, though? What on earth had possessed her to take in some kid who was in trouble with the law?
“What did you do?”
Jason glared at him. “Who says I did anything?”
“There usually aren’t too many innocent people in jail, at least not for long.”
“Okay, so maybe you’re right.”
“And?”
“I stole a car. So what? It was no big deal.”
“Grand theft sounds like a big deal to me. Why’d you do it?”
“I needed to get to the store.”
His sarcasm set Hank’s teeth on edge. Again he swallowed his irritation and repeated, “Why’d you do it?”
“My old man needed the money.”
The flat tone sent a chill through Hank. “Bad enough to make you steal?”
“When you need a fix bad enough, you don’t worry about how you get it. It wasn’t the first thing I did. It was just the first time I got caught.” Jason made it sound as though that were the crime.
Hank felt his stomach churn. Anger and pity welled up deep inside him. “What you did was wrong,” he reminded Jason.
Jason regarded him defiantly, then retorted with youthful bitterness, “Where I come from you’re taught to mind your parents.”
Hank could see the twisted logic at work. What worried him, though, was how much it was still affecting Jason’s thinking. Was the boy ready to break the law again at any provocation? What kind of influence could he possibly be on all those other kids Ann had taken under her wing? He tried telling himself it was none of his business. He tried telling himself she’d be furious at his meddling. He looked again at the tense, angry kid beside him and decided he had no choice. There was no way in hell he could remain uninvolved. He would talk to Ann the minute they were alone.
Getting Ann alone, however, was no easy task with six children underfoot. It was after nine by the time the little ones were in bed and the older kids were settled down doing their homework. Hank took a beer from the refrigerator, popped it open and held it out toward Ann. She shook her head.
“You want something else?”
“No.”
“Feel like taking a walk by the water? It’s a nice night.”
She regarded him warily. Hank grinned. “Don’t panic. I’m not planning to rip off your clothes and have my way with you.”
Ironically, as soon as the denial was out of his mouth, Hank realized it was a blatant lie. He did want to strip away the layered T-shirts, the too-long skirt and those ridiculous socks. Those socks were orange tonight. With a blue skirt and yellow and green shirts. She reminded him of a particularly colorful parrot.
She also smelled like strawberries again, which made him want to taste the creamy white skin of her neck. Which made him achingly hard. Which would have made the lie obvious if she’d looked anywhere other than straight past him as she said stiffly, “I never thought you were.”
Hank held the screen door open. As she marched past him, he wondered what perversity made him want a woman who was all sharp angles and tart tongue, a woman who clearly regarded him as a nuisance. There were a dozen other less complicated women he could have called for a date. Unfortunately, the only woman he seemed interested in spending time with tonight was this one.
They walked in silence. It was Ann who finally broke it.
“Was there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Can’t a man just enjoy the night and your charming company without wanting something?”
She regarded him skeptically. “It’s possible, but you don’t strike me as the type.”
“How do I strike you?” he asked, suddenly curious about her impression. She was a psychologist. The possibility that she might be able to read between the lines and detect things about him that even he didn’t admit was troublesome.
“As a man used to getting what he wants, women included.”
He laughed, relieved. There were no uncanny revelations in that analysis. “I can’t deny that. Is there something wrong with going after the things that are important to you? Isn’t that what life is all about?”
“It depends on who gets trampled in the process.”
“Do you think I’m trying to trample on you, Annie?”
“You’ve only been here two days.”
“Exactly.” He grinned. “And I’ve been on my best behavior.”
“Why doesn’t that reassure me?”
“You’re the psychologist. You tell me.”
She suddenly hugged her arms protectively around her waist. Hank had an urgent desire to push them away, to draw them around his own waist so that he could feel her slender body pressed into his. He figured she’d slug him if he tried. He decided he’d better change the subject.
“I wanted to talk to you about Jason.”
Her gaze shot to his, her nervousness apparent. “What about him?”
“I think you’re taking a bad risk having him here.”
She stopped in midstep and her hands went at once to her hips. Challenging. Defiant. Mother-hen protective. “Why on earth would you say something like that? You don’t even know him.”
“Simmer down,” he soothed. “I know he’s had problems with the police. He doesn’t seem especially remorseful about it, either.”
Her expression changed to one of astonishment. “He told you that?”
“More or less.”
Her face lit up as if he’d just announced that the kid had been accepted at Harvard. “Don’t you see how wonderful that is?”
“Wonderful? It was scary sitting there with this skinny kid talking about stealing cars and taking dope as if it were perfectly ordinary stuff.”
“In his life, it was.”
“And that’s the kind of influence you want around the others?”
“Jason doesn’t try to influence the others. He practically says nothing at all. The fact that he opened up to you means he’s beginning to trust adults again. He was obviously anxious for your approval.”
“It sounded to me more like bragging. I think he was more interested in shocking me. The boy could be dangerous.”
She waved off his fears. “He’s not dangerous. He’s scared.”
Deep in his gut Hank wanted to believe Ann was right. He’d seen for himself the evidence of vulnerable kid behind the tough, grown-up facade. He’d known a lot of kids just like that in his time. Some of them grew up and made something of themselves. Some of them didn’t. Those were the ones who scared the hell out of him. He reached out and gently touched Ann’s uptilted chin. “What if you’re wrong?” he asked gently.
“I am not wrong,” she said stubbornly. “With the right environment, the right sort of support and a little unconditional love, Jason will do just fine.”
He sighed with impatience at the Pollyanna viewpoint. “You’re too trusting, Annie.”
“And you’re too cynical.”
“Being a liberal do-gooder is just fine, as long as it doesn’t endanger anyone else.”
“I’d rather be a liberal do-gooder than a self-centered jerk.”
“It is not self-centered to worry about you and those kids,” he retorted angrily, though he was surprised himself at the depth of his concern. That she dismissed his fears so lightly made him indignant. The fact that he wanted her anyway stunned him. His blood pounded. When Ann parted her lips to counter his last furious comment, he settled his mouth over hers. It was the only way he could think of to silence her.
It was also the only way he could think of to still the demanding throb that had his entire body quivering with the irrational, uncontrollable need to know her touch. He expected a fight, perhaps even hoped for one to prove how foolish the attraction was. Instead her lips were velvet soft and trembling beneath his. And, after an instant’s startled stiffening, she relaxed against him. Her arms drifted around his neck. Her hips tilted into his, a perfect fit. Pleasure shot through him. Hot, searing desire replaced casual curiosity.
And Hank knew he was in more trouble than Jason had ever dreamed of.
Chapter 4
Ann heard the music the instant she turned into the driveway. Beethoven? At full blast? She had to be hearing things. She was used to being greeted by rock and roll at best. She listened more closely. The familiar classical strains swelled, carrying on the turbulent wind. It was definitely Beethoven. The night air was suddenly filled with violins and the sound of waves crashing against the shore. She felt as if she’d stumbled into the midst of an outdoor concert in which man and nature combined to stir the soul.
Exhausted and drained by a nerve-racking series of sessions, to say nothing of the residual impact of Hank Riley’s totally unexpected and thoroughly devastating kiss the previous night, she leaned back in the front seat of the car. The music flowed over her, soothing, working its magic. Her eyes drifted closed. Hank’s provocative image appeared at once. She opened her eyes to banish him, but the image lingered just as plainly. She gave up the pointless battle and shut her eyes again. Her lips curved in a smile at the pleasantly surprising sensation of peace after so many hours of jarring dissonance.
“Annie?”
Dazed, she blinked at the sound of Hank’s voice.
“You okay?” he asked, leaning down beside the car and peering in at her. His blue eyes were filled with tender concern. Recognizing it, her heart tapped a new and surprisingly sensual rhythm. It had been years since anyone had ever worried about her, even fleetingly. She was the strong, clear-thinking one. She was the one others came to to pour out their troubles. Whether privately or professionally, she was expected to cope, to endure. The fact that this man thought she might occasionally need help in doing that made her feel cherished somehow, even as it sometimes irritated her. Sometimes? It almost always irritated her. But not tonight. Tonight she basked in the unfamiliar warmth of the sensation.
“I’m fine,” she told him now. “I was just enjoying the concert.”
He grinned ruefully. “Sorry if it was too loud. The kids haven’t complained, so I didn’t realize how far the sound carried.”
