A touch of love (7 page)

"So what happened? Did you lose your concentration and get thrown the day you were injured?"

"No, I'd done real well that day. I won, as a matter of fact, but my glove got caught in my rope and I had to fight to get free. That's why I slipped. I should have made it to the ground on my feet easily, but instead, I landed on my ass and like they say, the rest is history. A bucking horse won't go out of his way to stomp a cowboy, but a bull will. A bull will keep coming after you again and again and his hooves are like meat cleavers and," Jesse watched the color fade from Aubrey's creamy complexion and thought better of continuing with such a vivid description.

"I was laid up a long while and couldn't get my timing back. I wasn't about to compete if I had no chance of winning. It would have been too hard after having been the World Champ three years straight."

"Why Jesse, you never mentioned you were a World Champion. I ought to call the Times and tell them, so they

can identify you correctly when they print a retraction of today's story."

"Can you make them retract it?"

"I'm going to try. I'm not worried about being stalked by Pete's killers, but I don't want people contacting me for help in locating their missing relatives. Just think of all the runaways in the country. If parents thought I could find their kids, I'd be besieged with heartrending requests."

"I'd never thought of that."

Aubrey gestured toward the books that surrounded him. "It looks as though you've been busy."

Before Jesse could respond, they were interrupted by the doorbell. "Better let me get that," he warned.

"My number's not listed in the telephone book. There's no way someone could have found my home address unless I'd given it to them."

"I found it, didn't I?" Convinced she might be in real danger, Jesse followed Aubrey from the room. "Look to see who it is before you open the door."

"Worry wart," Aubrey complained, but she ducked into the living room to catch a glimpse of the visitor through one of the front windows. "Relax; we're not under attack."

Not wanting to intrude, Jesse hung back, thinking she would invite the caller to come in, but she didn't. He could hear a man's voice and, curious as to who he might be, he stepped down into the living room so he could also get a look at him through the window.

There was a new black BMW parked out front, and the dark-haired man on the doorstep looked as if he could easily afford to drive it. In Jesse's opinion, he looked too perfect, and he supposed the guy was a bank president or held some other suffocating executive job that required him to look like he had just stepped off the cover of Gentleman 's Quarterly. Just the thought of wearing a suit and tie

made Jesse gag. As Aubrey's voice took on a strident note, he was inspired to come to her defense no matter what had caused the argument between her and her well-dressed caller.

With a devilish chuckle, he tugged his shirttail out of his Levi's and with a yank, unfastened the mother of pearl snaps. Then, certain he was showing off enough bare chest to provoke the man if he had a romantic interest in Aubrey, he walked up behind her.

"You have some kind of a problem here, honey?" he asked nonchalantly. He rested his left arm on the doorjamb and struck a casual pose.

Aubrey knew exactly what Jesse was doing, and why, but it was scarcely called for in this instance. 'Jesse Barrett, I'd like you to meet my ex-husband, Larry Stafford. Larry was just admiring your photo in the paper, but I'm certain he's thrilled to meet you in person."

Jesse stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you," he lied without the least effort to sound sincere. He was shocked by how handsome a man Larry was, but his eyes were so cold a gray they reminded him of marbles. He had never met a man with such a frosty gaze.

In return, Larry Stafford studied Jesse with a contemptuous glance that focused first on his casual apparel and then on his hairy chest. He grasped Jesse's hand only briefly and then cut him out of the conversation as though he didn't exist. He was holding the Metro section of the Times and shook it as he continued to argue with Aubrey.

"I don't know why I'm surprised by this, but for some reason I thought you'd have more sense than to become involved in crimes the police are unable to solve. Do you plan to begin reading palms next?"

Aubrey had very little patience where Larry was concerned, and he had already exhausted it. She straightened

up proudly. "You no longer have a say in anything I do. How many times must I remind you of that?"

"You ought to be grateful that I don't charge you for my advice/'

"I wouldn't pay the bill if you did," Aubrey responded smugly.

Delighted Aubrey could hold her own with her obnoxious ex, Jesse began to laugh. "Actually, we're thinking of franchising a string of tarot card parlors. Perhaps you'd like to invest. They're sure to be a veritable gold mine and you obviously have expensive tastes."

Larry's steel-gray eyes narrowed to menacing slits. "You couldn't possibly know what my tastes are."

Jesse slipped his arm around Aubrey's waist and pulled her close. "I'd say I've got a real good idea what pleases you."

Rather than respond, Larry sent an insolent glance roving over Jesse's muscular frame. When he finally lifted his eyes to Jesse's, his grin was mocking. "You might be surprised." He turned, then and left without bothering to tell Aubrey good-bye.

Aubrey walked back into the house, but the way Larry had looked at Jesse had made his skin crawl and he was too stunned to move for a moment. Finally, he closed the front door and followed her into the living room. "Is Larry gay? Is that why you're no longer married to him?"

Aubrey sat down on the sofa and folded her hands primly in her lap. "No. He's not gay. He was just playing with your mind, and it obviously worked. But please, I don't want to agrue with you about him."

"We're not arguing," Jesse denied. "I just asked you a simple question. You make only vague references to an unhappy marriage in your book. Now that I've met Larry, I'd really like to know what happened. Hell, I'd like to know why you married a man like him in the first place."

Aubrey bit her lower lip to force back the tears that thoughts of Larry always brought. "You've no right to ask such personal questions, Jesse. I think you'd better go."

"Oh no, I'm not going anywhere," Jesse promised as he walked around the sofa to face her. There was a slate-topped coffee table in front of the sofa and after deciding it would support his weight, he sat down on it opposite her. Easily capturing her knees between his own, he reached out and took her hands in a gentle clasp. "Neither of us is going anywhere for a good long while."

Aubrey wasn't afraid of Jesse, merely embarrassed to tears by the years she had wasted trying to please a man who had refused to be pleased. She shook her head and glanced away.

Jesse tightened his grasp. Aubrey was again wearing the calla lily ring, and he took care not to gouge the petals into her finger. "I want the truth, lady. All of it and right now."

Aubrey responded with a surprisingly defiant tear-brightened stare, but despite her stubborn effort to exclude him, Jesse knew he had every right to learn her secrets, even though he had known her only three days. On Saturday he had been prepared to dislike her quite thoroughly, but he had soon discovered that was impossible. She was far too exciting a woman to dislike, even if they did clash wills far too often.

"How do you reconcile the fact that you don't always practice the same open, caring attitude that you preach in your seminars?"

"It's not a question of not practicing what I preach," Aubrey insisted obstinately. "It's a matter of maintaining my personal privacy."

"The hell it is!"

Aubrey recoiled as though he had struck her, but she still didn't begin the tale he was so anxious to hear. Jesse

was regarding her with the same hostile stare she had seen at the seminar, but this time she fully understood the cause. He challenged her constantly, but he had every right to hold opposing opinions. Still, she wasn't convinced she ought to trust him as completely as his demand required.

"All right/' Jesse conceded. "I apologize for the foul language, but I was sorely provoked. Let's start over from where you got home this afternoon. How did your seminar go?"

Aubrey was surprised by his sudden change of direction, but gave him credit for at least attempting to understand her. "Corporations hire me to conduct stress reduction workshops for their executives. That's what we were doing today. My presentation is slightly different than the one you attended, but the message is essentially the same: what we can imagine, we can achieve. People impose a great deal of stress on themselves when they try to live up to the unreasonable expectations of others, rather than striving to fulfill themselves."

'That's certainly true," Jesse agreed, and his hold on her became a smooth caress across her palms.

The warmth of his touch was distracting, but too pleasant for Aubrey to want to pull free. "I encourage people to find their strengths by following their hearts. I help them stop making excuses and begin setting realistic goals. When people dare to live their dreams, they become far more relaxed and confident. Confident employees are more productive, and so the whole company benefits from my seminars."

Jesse nodded thoughtfully. "You're a very persuasive speaker, but I can't help but wonder what type of goals you've set for yourself. Do you hope to remarry someday and have a family?"

Aubrey smiled slightly. "Yes, of course I do."

"But I'm not what you had in mind, am I?"

His cocky grin was very appealing, but Aubrey refused to fall into the trap she was positive he wished to set. She leaned forward slightly and spoke in a husky whisper. "Has it never occurred to you that not all women want to fall into bed with every blond hunk they meet?"

"No, because that's impossible," Jesse scoffed, amused by the roundabout way she had chosen to pay him a compliment. "Besides, it's not me we're talking about here, but you. I still want the truth."

Aubrey sat back. "Let me see. Where was I? Oh, yes. We were discussing today's seminar. My part went rather well. Trisha has a date with one of the bank's vice presidents, but I believe everyone above teller has that title so it may not be as impressive as it sounds. Shelley's boyfriend cruised back into town, but he's a worthless slime who hasn't paid a nickel in child support for their daughter. As for Gardner, he just watched Trisha flirt her way through the men in the audience, but it was plain he was dying inside. Now is there anything else you'd like to know?"

"I know Trisha's a flirt, but I barely noticed Gardner. I'm surprised Shelley has a daughter. She looks as though she just graduated from high school."

"She's twenty-four, but her vulnerability makes her appear younger. She does the graphics for my brochures, and I'd hoped that working at the seminars would boost her confidence. Unfortunately, she's still painfully shy."

"Well, it's nice that you're concerned about her and your other employees. Now let's get back to your husband. He's obviously successful. Why didn't he make you happy? Tell me."

His relaxed manner invited her confidence, and yet she caught the faint hint of a threat in his voice. "Or else?" she asked.

Jesse gave a sly chuckle. "Oh, yes, or else I'm going to assume that all you need is a man who'll treat you like a

woman and I'll make love to you right here on the sofa instead of taking you upstairs/*

"You wouldn't dare," Aubrey hissed.

Jesse let go of her hands and released his silver belt buckle with one hand. "Try me."

Aubrey stared at the teasing light in his eyes. He wasn't threatening her with physical violence, but he was making a promise he looked determined to keep. If he made love as well as he kissed, then that was no threat at all, she realized with a small sigh of surrender. "All right, I'll talk."

"Smart girl."

Aubrey tried to find somewhere to focus her glance other than Jesse's taunting grin, but he was much too charming to ignore. "My book was purposely vague not only to guard my privacy, but to avoid a lawsuit from Larry. He's an extremely successful attorney. I was twenty-four and teaching art in high school when we met. He was thirty, and more sophisticated than any man I'd ever dated. I was too thrilled by his attentions to give his proposal more than a few seconds consideration. We drove to Las Vegas and were married that very night."

When Aubrey suddenly fell silent, Jesse encouraged her to continue. "Come on, you're just getting to the good part. Don't stop now."

"I should make some tea or something."

"You can't be that thirsty. Just tell me what happened. Couldn't he get it up on your wedding night?"

"He had no trouble at all," Aubrey shot right back at him. "It was just that he was always very mechanical, as though he were following a script. Trial attorneys tend to have a theatrical nature, and he was as slick in the bedroom as he was in a courtroom, but there's a vast difference between technique and honest emotion."

That remark hit Jesse real close to home because it fit his relationships with women as well. He didn't like that

fact at all. "I can understand that," he managed to say, consoling himself that he had never received a complaint from any of the women he had taken to bed. Of course, it was highly possible none of them had possessed the brains to make the comparison Aubrey just had.

Aubrey was beginning to feel a little sick to her stomach. Certain Jesse wouldn't believe that excuse, she hurried to finish her story. "He had been wonderfully attentive while we were dating, but once we were married, he became increasingly distant. He was never openly critical, but he managed to find fault with everything I did. He would say, 1 Oh, you're wearing the blue dress to the party? I'd hoped you'd wear the green.' He would never mention a preference before I was dressed, however.

"At first I did my best to please him, but the harder I tried, the less success I achieved. I was attempting to live out his fantasy of the perfect wife, you see, and it just wasn't me. We appeared to have the perfect marriage, but I felt abandoned. I didn't know what I'd done wrong, or to whom to turn."