Deborah Camp (15 page)

She shrugged, but decided not to let him off the hook so easily. “You might have told me when I first mentioned Stella that you had already spoken to her.”

He folded his arms against his chest and averted his gaze. “It’s a lawyer’s trick. When someone wants to talk, you let them.”

She folded her arms, mirroring him. “Let them hang themselves?”

“Sometimes.”

She smiled, enjoying the exchange of wits and forgetting that she was angry at his refusal to agree with her about Stella. She knew she should take her leave, but she lingered. He was in such a good mood and he looked so good in his wrangler clothing.

“It’s nice to see you out of your business attire.”

He glanced down at his clothes. “I’m glad you approve. You are looking mighty fine yourself today.”

She smiled, amazed that he could make her feel sixteen again and on the verge of a silly giggle. Glancing around, she sought something that could detain her from leaving. “Show me where you live,” she said, grabbing onto the first thing that flitted through her mind.

“Uh …” He blinked, obviously surprised by the change of topic. “Sure, if you want. There’s not much to it.” He extended his hand, motioning her to precede him to the outer office where Bertha’s desk took up most of the space. He nodded toward the other office next to Adam’s large one. The furniture in it was smaller in scale, the desk half the size of the one in Adam’s office, and there was only one bookcase, crammed with books and stacks of papers. She crossed the room to look at a framed document. It was his law degree.

“Zachary Thomas Warner,” she read. “Impressive.” The rattle of a doorknob made her turn around to see that he had opened a door to a room adjoining the small office.

“This is it,” he said. “It’s not much but it’s – well, it’s not much.”

She walked toward him, hesitated on the threshold, and then went inside, prompted by curiosity. There were two windows on the south wall and across from them, against the north wall, was an iron bedstead with a puffy, feather mattress and two pillows, covered with a white linens and a pale blue spread. A painting hung on the wall above the bed. It was in the Greek tradition and depicted several naked ladies bathing in a fountain. It brought a smile to her lips as she turned to survey the rest of the room. An upholstered chair, a small table and two straight-backed chairs, and two book shelves, again stuffed full of volumes and documents. A clothes chest sat at the foot of the bed and an oak wardrobe stood tall, all the way up to the high ceiling, against the far wall. Next to it was a washstand and oval mirror.

There were no curtains at the windows and no rugs on the floor. A reading lamp sat on the table. She looked up to see an electrified light fixture in the middle of the ceiling.

“How do you cook?”

“I don’t. I eat in restaurants or saloons.”

“And you like living this way?”

“It serves me well for now. Like I said, someday I will build a house.” He walked to the windows and looked out at the street below. “In a way, we both are boarders.”

“So we are.” She moved to the bed and dragged her fingertips across the cotton coverlet, her thoughts skipping to the last time they had been together in a bedroom. She felt him behind her, but she didn’t turn around because she knew that when she did, she would be lost in his arms.

Late afternoon sun cast a golden glow into the room, adding a sultriness that went along with the feeling simmering inside her. She couldn’t stop looking at the bed and imagining him there – with her. There was no one to interrupt them now. They could be together. Is that what she wanted? Is that what he wanted?

His hands covered her elbows and moved slowly up her arms. With a tremulous sigh, she leaned back against him and his arms circled her waist. His lips were like a flame against the side of her neck. She tipped her head, encouraging him.

“Jennie, Jennie,” he breathed against her skin. “You’re all I think about anymore. When I’m in court, waiting for my next case to begin, I think of how your hair cascades down your back and how your eyes are like quicksilver. What are we going to do about this?”

She didn’t know. She couldn’t think of anything except the need yawning inside of her. More than anything, she wanted to be swept away to that mindless place of passion she had glimpsed the last time she had been alone with him in a bedroom. She wanted to know that it was real and that it hadn’t just been real for that moment in time. Because if being with him was that profound, then there was no use fighting this. No use telling herself that she wasn’t hopelessly, undeniably in love with him.

She pivoted to face him, framing his face in her hands. The passion in his eyes emboldened her. “Kiss me.”

His mouth swooped to hers, pressing, releasing, pressing, releasing. She drove her fingers through the back of his silky-soft hair and positioned his mouth on hers. Her lips parted like flowering petals and his tongue swept over them and then inside to stroke and tease.

She moaned and arched against him, amazed at her boldness, but more amazed at her thundering, towering feelings. She had never felt so alive before, so brimming with need and want. He was like a drug to her, intoxicating and deliciously dangerous.

He spun her across the floor, his fingers tangling in her hair. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and then she found herself sitting in his lap in the upholstered chair. He kissed the column of her neck, her mouth, her throat, her mouth again. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and ran her hands over the hot skin of his chest and ribs. She hungered for him and pressed kisses against his strong throat and chest, which was lightly furred with gold.

“I want you, Jennie,” he said, his voice husky and broken.

She nodded, unable to speak. He pushed her away so that he could look into her face. His hands moved over the bodice of her dress and she felt her nipples gather into tight, tender buds. She arched toward him and he bent his head and nuzzled her breasts through the cloth until she writhed with impatience.

Scrambling from his lap, she stood before him, her knees trembling, her lips throbbing from his kisses. She glanced toward the bed. He reached out and slid one hand up under her skirt to caress her from knee to thigh as he levered himself slowly from the chair. She grew still, and their gazes locked in a silent question and acquiesce.

A door opened and closed and a man called out, “Zach? You here?”

Zach jerked his hand away from her and his eyes widened. He mouthed,
Adam
. He shoved his shirttail back into the waistband of his dungarees and buttoned it hurriedly. Pressing a finger to her lips, he bid her to be silent. He glanced into the mirror over the washstand and finger-combed his hair back off his forehead. Walking quickly to the door, he glanced back at Jennie and motioned for her to stay put. Then he opened the door, slipped out of the room, and closed the door firmly behind him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked.

Jennie listened as she pulled the blue ribbon from her mussed hair and straightened her dress. She looked down at the damp circles over her nipples where Zach’s mouth had been moments ago.

She drew a shaky breath and started to sit on the bed, but thought better of it. The bed might squeak. Adam might hear. Covering her face with her hands, she shook her head and tried to ward off the feelings of embarrassment that marched toward her, threatening to vanquish the wondrous feelings that had rioted inside her. She could hear Zachary and Adam talking – Zachary’s baritone and Adam’s nasally tenor – and after a few minutes her embarrassment at almost being caught gave way to anger.

Why was she hiding? She should not endure such treatment, she told herself. Zachary would have to choose – tell Adam about his feelings or keep his distance from her. She would not disguise her feelings for him, hide in back rooms, or practice any further pretense.

Ten minutes ticked by before she heard Adam leave and Zachary opened the door to his room again. At least he seemed regretful and – irritated, she decided, recognizing that the latter was directed at Adam and not at her.

“Damn it all, he has the worst timing.” He closed the door and leaned back against it, his gaze taking in her every feature. “What? You look … well, I can’t exactly tell what you’re feeling right now.”

“I won’t keep you in the dark,” she said, tapping one foot. “You’re lucky I’m not carrying a loaded gun or I’d shoot you.”

He spread one hand across his shirtfront. “What did I do? I didn’t know that Adam was going to pop in for some case files to take home with him.”

“Adam is not the problem.” She aimed a finger at him and jabbed the air.
“You
are.”

“Me? How do you figure that?”

“You haven’t told Adam about your feelings for me.”

“No, but I —.”

“And you have no intention of telling him,” she finished.

“I haven’t had time to contrive a plan, Jennie. It’s not like we’ve been chasing each other for months.”

“Chasing each other”

“Let me rephrase that.”

“Are you going to tell Adam?”

He scratched at his cheek where tomorrow’s beard was beginning to show. “Adam won’t be happy about it and he will probably tell me that I have to rein this in.”

“Just like that? All it will take is for your law partner to tell you not to touch me and you will never be tempted again?”

“Hell no.” He frowned. “You know better than that. I’m just saying that Adam will expect me to honor my promise to him.”

“It was a foolish promise – and you can tell him I said so. You can’t promise not to feel something for someone.” She turned and paced to the windows. “I will tell you what I will not do from now on, Zach, and that is hide.” She pivoted sharply to face him again and ticked off a short list on her fingers. “From this day forward, I will not be ashamed of how I feel about you. I will not cower in some back room like a dirty secret. I will not put up a false front for others when I am with you or speak of you. I will not lie to myself or anyone else about my feelings for you. Now what will
you
do, Zach?” She folded her arms and waited.

He shoved away from the door, standing tall. “Well, Hell’s Belles, Jennie, I’ll talk to Adam tomorrow. He’s already warned me off you.”

“When?”

“After I asked you to their house for dinner.”

“That was a business meeting. Is Adam also opposed to those?”

“No, except that it wasn’t a business meeting.” He grinned. “I asked you to dinner, but I didn’t have anything new to tell you. I confessed to Adam and he said we would talk about your case after dinner to cover my impulsive invitation. He told me to keep my head around you. I agreed, but I didn’t realize at the time how impossible it would be.”

She looked away from him, touched by his admission. “Am I really the first client you have … well . . ?”

“Seduced? Yes.”

“You are seductive,” she said, capturing his gaze again and taking slow steps toward him. “Like the taste of brandy or a haunting melody.”

He captured her hands in his. “You’re right that we can’t
not
feel things. It’s like telling someone not to think of a horse. What do you think of?”

“A horse.”

“Right. But you have to understand that there is a good reason behind the agreement I made with Adam. Mixing romance with business rarely has a good outcome. I take each case personally, but I don’t get personal with my clients because I want to keep my head clear and my thoughts focused on their divorces.”

“Do you want me to hire another lawyer?”

“That would be your prerogative.” He directed his gaze to their joined hands and his thumb fanned over her knuckles.

“Is that what you want?”

“No, but Adam might suggest that.”

“Would Adam take over my case?”

“Probably, but I don’t want him to.”

“Neither do I. I want you, Zachary.”

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I do like the sound of that.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed the tip of each finger, sending delicious shivers down her arms and spine. “I don’t want to cheapen this by hiding and lying. Let me talk to Adam.” He pulled her flush against him and she had to tip back her head to meet his amorous gaze. “I’m not sure I’m good enough for you, Jennie.”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss one corner of his mouth and then the other. “What nonsense talk is that? I’m a simple woman. I came here seeking a new life for myself, the same as you.”

“Simple?” He kissed the dimples in her cheeks. “You’re not simple. You’re the most complicated and beguiling woman I know.”

“How you talk.”

“It’s true.” With each word, his lips brushed hers, sending sparks flying.

“What’s so complicated about me?”

“You are wise and naïve and sensible and impulsive.”

“And beguiling?”

“It’s all I can do right now not to tear that dress off of your body and kiss every part of you.”

She closed her eyes, swimming in a sea of longing. “I thought I knew myself inside and out until I met you.”

He drew back. “What did you discover about yourself?”

“That there are feelings between a man and a woman that are beyond measure, beyond description.”

“You knew that before.”

She shook her head, opened her eyes and stared at a button on his shirt.

“No? Not even with your husband?”

“Not like this,” she whispered. “This is a love I’ve never known before, Zach.” The white button blurred with her tears.

“Ah, Jennie. Don’t go breaking my heart now.” He cupped the back of her head in one hand and brought her cheek flush against his chest. She could hear the steady beat of his heart and his shallow breathing. He kissed the top of her head and then held her at arm’s length. There was guardedness in his eyes that hadn’t been there a few moments ago. “Do you want me to walk with you to the boarding house?”

Gently disengaging herself from him, she whisked the vestiges of tears from her eyes. Just like that? He was sending her away? “No, that’s not necessary.”

“I know you want to get home to Oliver.”

“Yes, of course.” She ran trembling hands over her hair and wondered what she had said to make him back off. “You will talk with Adam?”