A touch of love (11 page)

Jesse had an annoying way of insinuating himself in her life, and she still didn't know quite what to make of him. He had seemed to be genuinely interested in her assistants' romantic dilemmas, and she could not help but wonder just what qualified him to be an expert on love.

When they returned to Aubrey's that afternoon, Jesse waited for Trisha to leave and then suggested a swim. "If that's how you usually relax, you needn't change your routine just because I'm here."

The air-conditioning at the bank had made the conference room positively chilly, but on the ride home they had been bathed in the late afternoon sun and it had been sufficiently warm to make the pospect of a swim enticing. 'That does sound good. Did you plan to join me?"

"Sure, but I promise to stay on my side of the pool and swim laps so I won't be in your way."

Jesse had such an expressive glance, Aubrey had no difficulty whatsoever reading what was really on his mind. Still, she really did want to swim. "Do I have your word on it?"

Jesse raised his right hand. "It's your pool, ma'am. I'll have to abide by your rules."

Aubrey was tempted to present an extensive list of prohibitions, but knew it wouldn't do a bit of good. "Last one in the pool is a rotten egg," she said instead, and dashed for the stairs before the astonishment had left his face. She knew better than to wear the pink bikini, and after tossing her clothes aside, slipped on a modest aqua tank suit. When she reached the pool, Jesse was just leaving the cabana wearing the swimsuit he had borrowed on Sunday, but with a running dive, she beat him into the pool.

Jesse had no idea what had inspired Aubrey's playful

mood, but considering it a great improvement, he slipped into the water in the shallow end and, as promised, began to swim with a carefully measured stroke. When he reached the other end of the pool, Guinevere ran up barking loudly. He flicked water in her face and waited for Aubrey to complete her second lap and also reach the deep end.

* Tour hairy hound has a real short memory. I fed her this morning, but she acts as though I'm a complete stranger/'

Aubrey called Guin over and hushed her indignant yaps. "She's an excellent watchdog, so I'll not scold her." Loving the gentle caress of the warm water on her skin, Aubrey turned away and again swam for the shallow end.

Aubrey was fast, but Jesse's greater size gave him the advantage and he easily beat her down to the end of the pool. When Aubrey began her turn, he caught her eye. 4 'Want to race?"

Guinevere had run alongside the pool and was again barking furiously. "I think we just did," Aubrey called, hoping to be heard above her pooch. "Do you want to try for distance?"

While he was sorry she wasn't wearing the bikini, the way her wet tank suit was molded to her slender curves wasn't at all disappointing. "I don't think I can keep track of my laps," he admitted honestly.

"Then you lose, because I'll have no trouble keeping track of mine." Aubrey pushed away from the side and swam toward the deep end.

Jesse cursed under his breath, then decided all he had to do was float and let Aubrey wear herself out swimming. He didn't want to be too obvious about what he was doing, however, and began swimming up and down the pool at such a lazy pace he could have kept it up all night. When at last Aubrey paused to rest in the deep end, he came up beside her and tried to sound surprised.

"Are you quitting already? I've barely had time to warm up."

Aubrey hadn't been fooled by his relaxed pace. Crystal droplets clung to his lashes, brightening his gaze, but she saw past his ploy and shook her head knowingly. "Do the women in Arizona actually fall for your tricks?''

"Every single time," Jesse admitted with a deep chuckle. "But I relish a challenge."

"Yes, I just bet you do." Aubrey grabbed the side of the pool and pulled herself out of the water with a graceful lunge. She turned to sit on the tile lip and smiled sweetly. "Go right ahead and finish your swim. I'll keep watch so you're in no danger of drowning."

She had such beautiful legs, Jesse couldn't resist placing a kiss on her knee before he also pulled himself out of the pool. Seated beside her, the prospect of drowning himself—in her—was incredibly appealing. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. "We forgot about towels. Are you cold?"

Aubrey was about to shove him back into the pool when she noticed the long scar that curved up and over his right knee. Unable to stop herself, she reached out and the instant her fingertips brushed his skin, she heard the roar of the crowd, and through a swirling dustcloud, saw him astride a huge bull. She knew exactly what was going to happen but Jesse's hand covered hers before she could pull away. She saw him slip, and then heard the sickening crunch as the bull's hind feet came down on his knee.

She felt the nausea well up in her throat, broke free of his grasp, and lurched to her feet. She ran for the house, nearly tripping over Guinevere, who raced along beside her. She made it into the bathroom off the den with no more than a second to spare, but she was even more terrified than when Jesse had shown her the photograph of his cousin's family.

She did not know how she could explain to him, or to anyone else, what she had not merely seen, but felt clear to her marrow. Shaken, she sank to the floor. She now feared it was Jesse who carried the hideous visions. She doubted he would find that premise any easier to believe than she did, but somehow the intuition she had learned to trust convinced her it was true.

into detail when I told you what happened, nor when I spoke for your seminar today.''

Aubrey wrapped her arms around her bent knees and rocked gently. "I saw it all clearly when I touched your knee. Had I actually been there that awful day, I couldn't have felt it any more deeply. I still don't believe I'm psychic, though. I think you're the one who's creating the awful visions, and I'm merely receiving them."

That bizarre notion convinced Jesse that Aubrey must be becoming hysterical. He rose and hauled her to her feet. "I want you to take as hot a shower as you can stand." He yanked open the glass door on the shower enclosure and, holding on to her towel, eased her inside. He turned on the hot water, but afraid he might scald her, adjusted the temperature by adding some cold before closing the door.

The bathroom had the same rust and navy color scheme as the den. Jesse had thought it both elegant and soothing but as he twisted the damp towel, the colors swirled around him with a jarring clash. If Aubrey had caught one of his worst memories in an eerie flash, it certainly had not been his doing. Perhaps they were playing with a power that couldn't be controlled, but he had never expected their attempt to solve a baffling crime to take such a puzzling turn.

He left the bathroom to shuck off his wet trunks and pull on a pair of Levi's. Afraid Aubrey wasn't herself, he quickly returned to the bathroom, which was rapidly filling with steam. "Aubrey? Are you okay? Shall I bring you a robe?"

When she failed to respond, he slid open the small cabinet along the wall and removed another towel. He then opened the shower door just a crack to peek inside and found Aubrey huddled in the far corner. She hadn't removed her bathing suit, which he thought was probably

lucky for them both in the state she was in. He reached in to turn off the water, and then wrapped her in the clean towel before turning her around and leading her out.

"I'd like to sweep you off your feet and carry you upstairs, but my knee would probably buckle and we'd go bumping right back down. I'll just walk you up like this." He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her through the den and up the stairs.

When they reached the second floor, he paused at the doorway of the master bedroom. The thick comforter on the white enameled Victorian bed matched the dainty violet print of the robe Aubrey had worn Monday morning. A heap of pillows covered in the same pretty floral pattern, trimmed with white eyelet and purple ribbon, nearly obscured the fancy scrollwork of the headboard. A matching dust ruffle brushed a white rug with a deep purple border. The window overlooking the pool where Aubrey had waved to him was draped in gathered puffs of the violet print.

The armoire and dresser were handcrafted pine and painted the same creamy marshmallow shade as the walls. An easy chair and ottoman covered in a luscious purple velour faced a wall unit with a television set, collection of curios, and profusion of potted plants. Warmed by the afternoon sun, their glossy leaves were as bright as those scattered across the bed linens and curtains.

It was a delightfully feminine room, filled with the faint aroma of vanilla incense. Jesse found it difficult, if not impossible, to imagine Larry Stafford sharing it, then recalled Aubrey had moved here after her divorce, so he never did live here. The whole house was beautiful, but he still thought it a terrible shame she occupied it all alone.

"You're going to have to take off that wet bathing suit," he coaxed gently. "Shall I help you?"

Aubrey glanced down and seemed surprised to find she

was still wearing the aqua tank. Without replying to Jesse's offer, she slipped away from his grasp and walked into the adjoining bathroom. She left the door slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of sparkling white tile and wallpaper with a narrow purple stripe.

Jesse debated following her, not wanting to again find her collapsed on the floor, and he would have, had she not swiftly reappeared wearing a short lavender sleepshirt. Her hair was wrapped in a purple hand towel, and she did not bother to remove it before climbing onto the high bed and slipping down under the covers.

Perplexed, Jesse moved to the end of the bed and rested his hands on the curving footboard until he was certain Aubrey was resting comfortably. Then he walked around to the other side of the bed and stretched out beside her. He wanted an explanation, not only for Aubrey's strange ability to scan his past as though it were an old movie, but also for the disastrous consequences she had suffered. He propped his head on his hands and stared up at the white ceiling fan. Its four tulip bulbs would give plenty of light, but he didn't want to have to wait until dark for his answers.

When Aubrey awakened, it was nearly eight o'clock, and Jesse was sleeping soundly beside her. A thin stream of light shone from the partially open bathroom door, but curled up facing her, his face was in shadow. He was still lying on top of the comforter, while she was underneath, but she didn't recall inviting him to share her bed. She was about to give his shoulder a rude shake to send him away when she remembered why she had come upstairs to her room, and quickly yanked her hand away.

She eased herself up into a sitting position and removed her towel turban. Her hair was still slightly damp, and she gave her head a hasty shake to fluff out her curls. She had

touched Jesse before that afternoon with no ill effects. He had held her hand, kissed her, even given her a leisurely back rub without clouding her thoughts with hideous visions. Why had that day been different?

"Jesse, wake up," she urged loudly, and he immediately opened his eyes.

Jesse sat up and squirmed to get comfortable amid all the pillows. "Do you usually sleep with all of these?" he asked, clearly tempted to toss several to the rug.

"No, most are merely decorative but that's not really our problem, is it?"

Jesse also thought her mattress was too damn hard, but he was so relieved she was speaking calmly that he let the matter of his comfort, or lack thereof, slide. He reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. "No, but I'd prefer arguing about pillows to watching you become so upset again. Are you really all right?" He reached out to touch her forehead, but Aubrey raised her arm to block the move.

"Just keep your hands to yourself, please. When you showed me the photograph of your cousin and his family, what were you thinking?"

Insulted by her harsh rebuff, Jesse crossed his arms over his bare chest and tried to recall. "I thought they'd been kidnapped and murdered. I was hoping you'd receive the same eerie sensation from the photo that I had, and perhaps some tangible clue. It didn't even occur to me that you would provide the details you did." Jesse waited, and wondered if she would again accuse him of creating the bloody vision she had had, but she simply nodded.

''And when I touched your knee? What were you thinking then?"

Jesse knew telling the truth was always best, and smiled slyly. "I was thinking what beautiful legs you have, and I

was worried about your being cold. Believe me, bull riding was the farthest thing from my mind."

Aubrey believed him and softened her tone. "Was the description I provided accurate?*'

"Sure was. That's what startled me so, and it obviously did worse to you."

Aubrey thought they ought to be having this conversation elsewhere, but still felt too shaken to move. She hadn't invited another man up to her bedroom, but then, she hadn't invited Jesse there, either. She knew she ought to complain that he had exceeded the limits of her hospitality, but he looked so at home beside her. He provided precisely the comfort she so desperately needed.

"I wasn't thinking about anything when I touched your scar. I was just going to trace its curve, then wham. I felt as though I'd been tossed right into the dusty arena with you, and that's the last place I'd ever want to be."

"Is that why you kept me from touching you just now? Are you afraid it might happen again?"

"I don't know what to think," Aubrey confided truthfully. "I felt as though I'd been turned inside out and shaken like an old rug. It was all so quick. I was seated at poolside one moment, and the next, I'd been plunked down in the middle of a rodeo. To say that was frightening in itself doesn't come close to explaining my terror. I knew something awful was about to happen and I was powerless to prevent it.

"Nothing like this has ever happened to me prior to meeting you." She turned to face him squarely. "That's why I think it's you who's creating all the havoc."

Jesse thought her assumption just plain crazy, but that was scarcely a helpful opinion. "Let's think about this a minute," he counseled. "You're the one who's been looking inward, searching your heart for your own sacred path, and attempting to rely more on your intuition. Isn't it