Read A Prince for Jenny Online

Authors: Peggy Webb

Tags: #star crossed romance, #romance with single dad, #small town romance, #sequel, #sweet romance, #romance, #Peggy Webb backlist, #Southern books, #Peggy Webb romance, #classic romance, #contemporary romance

A Prince for Jenny (3 page)

Gwendolyn prayed to God she was right, for if dreaming did hurt, they'd all have Jake Townsend to answer to.

 o0o

When the clock said three, Jenny poured tea into two porcelain cups, then carried them into the garden and sat at the table, waiting for Daniel.

Gwendolyn stood at the window not knowing what to do. A part of her wanted to go out and gather Jenny and her teacups, then bring her inside and tell her as gently as she could that Daniel Sullivan would never show up in the flower garden for afternoon tea, that men like him paid court to women who fit in their fast-paced, sophisticated worlds. Another part of her wanted to march into Sullivan Enterprises and drag Daniel Sullivan out by the ear and force him to take tea in the garden with Jenny—and to smile while he did it.

The hands of the clock inched around to quarter after. Outside in the garden, Jenny was oblivious to time. She guarded the teacups from a dragonfly determined to use them as a landing pad, and laughed at the antics of that crotchety old mockingbird scolding a pair of robins.

Inside the kitchen, Gwendolyn squeezed her hands together and watched. This business was bound to drive her to an early grave.

 o0o

Daniel sat in his parked car with his hands sweating, like some teenager full of fear and hormones. Glancing into the rearview mirror, he ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he should have taken the time to shower and change.

Hell, he was acting as if this were a damned date and not a last-minute attack of conscience that had sent him scurrying to Jenny's yard instead of sending Helen as he'd intended. If he'd followed his head instead of his heart, he'd be sitting in his office right now. Safe.

"Daddy, aren't we ever going inside?" Megan, the impatient one. "I want to pet the guinea pigs before Jenny paints."

"All right, children. Let's go." He glanced at his watch. Three-thirty. He'd be out of there in five minutes.

Gwendolyn met him at the door. The children raced off to see the guinea pigs, and he faced Jenny's executive assistant.

"She's waiting for you in the garden," she said. "Wipe that scowl off your face."

"It matches the one on yours."

"Let's get this straight: Jenny sees you through the eyes of innocence, but I don't. I don't know why you came back. All I know is that if you do or say anything to hurt her, I'll personally run you out of town on a rail."

"Miss Phepps, I can assure you my motives are pure."

"Good. Keep them that way."

The minute he saw Jenny, he knew he'd lied. She was sitting at the white wicker table wearing a feminine dress that matched her eyes and a bright smile that rivaled the sun. He hadn't come merely to see that his children arrived safely; he'd come to see Jenny's smile.

"Hello." She rose, graceful as a willow. "I knew you'd come."

"Hello, Jenny."

"Say it again." Pressing her hands over her heart, she spoke in a breathy, wistful voice.

"Hello..."

"No. My name."

"Jenny..."

"Again," she whispered.

"Jenny..."

Her name was music on his lips, part litany of praise, part litany of supplication, and he had the sensation of falling, falling straight into her blue eyes, through their golden center all the way to the magic that lay beyond. Wind stirred her hair and the filmy skirt that rustled around her legs. One delicate finger touched her lips.

He stood breathless at the wonder of it all.

"I made tea," she said.

Two china cups sat upon the table. And two lace-edged napkins. Sitting down, she lifted one of the cups and offered it up to him. How could he refuse?

"That's kind of you, Jenny." He sat at the wicker table, feeling too big and unaccountably ill at ease. When he took the teacup, her soft hand touched his, and he felt an astonishing shock of awareness.

To cover, he took a sip of tea. It was cold.

"This is delicious."

She smiled as if he'd awarded her a great prize. "Mother taught me how to make tea. It was a long time ago. I couldn't read very well, but I could make tea."

He pictured her as a little girl, struggling with the printed word, probably frustrated. How wise her mother had been to teach her something at which she could excel.

"Your mother must be a lovely woman."

"She is ... and lucky too. She has Jake. Sometimes they dance in the moonlight."

The wistful quality of her voice tore at his heart. He studied her, the golden hair that would gleam in the moonlight, the silky skin that would be soft to the touch, the heart-shaped lips that would taste so sweet. Feelings stirred deep within him, feelings that had nothing to do with compassion but everything to do with a man wanting a woman.

"Do you dance in the moonlight, Daniel?"

"I used to." A century ago, it seemed.

"How wonderful that must be." Jenny glanced down at her lap. "My brothers tried to teach me once, but I'm too clumsy to dance."

"You're as graceful as the dandelions that dance on the summer breeze ... and twice as pretty in that lovely blue dress."

"Thank you." Softly, she reached out and touched his hand. "You're a nice man."

As she rubbed a delicate finger across his knuckles, Daniel imagined himself whirling her around in the moonlight, holding her lithe body close so she wouldn't stumble. Passion stirred his loins, and he mentally pulled himself back from the brink. God in heaven, what was he thinking of? Casting himself in the role of hero, of somebody who would ride up on a white charger and rescue her from her burden of innocence.

Her hand burned on his, but he gladly suffered the pain. Never again would he use his stinger on her, for Jenny was more than born special: She was special in ways he dared not even think about.

"I'm glad you came, Daniel."

"I'm glad too." Was he? A part of him was turning cartwheels at the sheer ecstasy of being in her sweet presence, but a part of him was weeping.

"You will stay while I paint the children?"

"Yes." Sullivan Enterprises seemed another world away, and suddenly not so very important.

"I knew you would." She stood, smiling down at him, with her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "And afterward, we'll all have a tea party."

Daniel was overwhelmed, a prisoner of her tender touch and innocent expectations. He sat in her delicate wicker chair sipping the cold tea while she tamed his two hellions with gentle persuasion.

"Let's swing." She climbed aboard a rope swing as happy as a child herself. His children's joyous laughter drifted upward, then Jenny left her swing and took up her brush.

Her hands flew over the canvas, as fragile looking as two snowbirds, but swift and sure. When she finally laid the brushes aside, he was amazed that he'd watched for an hour instead of only minutes.

"Are you ready for a tea party?" Jenny asked his children.

"Yeah!" They raced to her and caught her hands, with Megan grinning up at her and asking, "Can the animals come too?"

"Yes. Go inside and bring them out, and I'll get the cookies and tea."

She started across the yard, an enchanting woman who made Daniel forget everything except the magic of being in her presence.

"I'll help," he said, under her spell. And that's how he found himself in the kitchen pouring tea into tiny cups and laughing.

Later they ended up sitting in a lopsided circle on the grass—Megan holding onto Eleanor and Franklin, the guinea pigs, Patrick hugging Ruby and Marilyn, the prissy Persians, and Jenny cuddling Ralph and Ernest, the fluffy mutts.

Daniel sat beside Jenny, feeling a contentment he hadn't known in years.

"It's peaceful in your garden, Jenny."

"I love gardens. The birds and the flowers don't mind that I'm different." There was quiet dignity in her voice and not a shred of self-pity.

The world was full of thoughtless cruelty, especially for people who didn't fit the norm, and the idea that Jenny had suffered filled Daniel with helpless rage. He tried to think of a response that wouldn't sound condescending.

"I don't care if Jenny's taller," Megan said. "Do you, Daddy?"

"Not in the least." He'd never been prouder of his daughter. "We don't mind if she's prettier than other people either, do we?"

"Nope."

"And more talented?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see joy bloom across Jenny's face. Daniel felt as if he'd won an Olympic gold medal.

"Nope."

"See, Jenny. We're like the birds and the flowers." He turned to her, smiling, and suddenly he got lost in her blue eyes. "We like you exactly the way you are."

"And I like you." She touched his hand softly. "I think you're wonderful."

He wasn't, not by a long shot. His father knew it; Claire knew. But being called wonderful felt damned good, and so he kept sitting in the flower garden when plain common sense told him he ought to go. Was he selfish to want Jenny to keep thinking of him as wonderful?

"Daniel." Jenny leaned close to him, her face rosy. "Do you dream?"

Cynical men didn't dream, but he didn't tell Jenny that. Instead he said, "Do you?"

"Yes, I dream about going off to see the world." She got a faraway look in her eyes. "I'll drive myself, so I can stop in the woods and wade in the rivers and sit under the trees and listen to the birds. And I'll go in a bus big enough for my animals."

He doubted that she could drive a car, let alone a bus, but he pretended to believe in her vision.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Jenny," he said, and meant it. "Usually when I travel, I race along the interstates from motel to motel, seeing nothing but fast-food restaurants and shopping malls."

"Can you teach me to drive a bus?" She leaned toward him, earnest in her request

"You can already drive a car, I assume."

"Oh, no. Not yet." She broke a cookie into four pieces and gave one to each of her cats and dogs. "But I'm going to learn."

"Can I go too?" Megan piped up.

"You can go, but only if Daniel says yes."

"Can I, Daddy? Can I go with Jenny on her bus trip to see the world?"

"We'll see...."

Megan made a face. "That means no," she whispered to Jenny.

"Maybe it means maybe," Jenny whispered back.

Daniel smiled as the two of them pressed their heads together, whispering. He'd never been happier.

They ate the last of the cookies and drank the last of the tea, and there was no longer any reason to stay. The party was over. While the children scurried to restore the animals to their rightful places, he stood beside Jenny in the flower garden.

"Thank you for a beautiful afternoon, Jenny."

"You liked it?"

"Yes. Very much."
Too much
.

Her face radiant, Jenny wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder.

And Daniel knew he was treading dangerous waters. Standing beside her with her soft hair brushing against his cheek, he wanted to be the one to bring those looks of rosy adoration to her sweet face. Always.

He wanted to be Jenny Love-Townsend's hero.

Somehow he was able to leave the flower garden, though he had no idea how he'd said good-bye. After he'd delivered the children safely to their nanny, he plunged into his work as if all the demons in hell were chasing him.

Long after everybody else had left the SullivanEnterpriseBuilding, Daniel sat in his office bent over his work, determined to forget an unexpected tea party with a woman who called him wonderful.

 

 

Chapter Three

Jenny washed all the teacups except Daniel's. Standing in the kitchen, she ran her finger around the rim. She couldn't bear to wash away the place where his lips had touched.

"Jenny?" Gwendolyn poked her head around the door. "Why don't you leave those dishes till we get back? We don't want to be late for dinner with your folks."

"I'll be ready in a minute."

"Okay, honey. I'll wait for you in the front hall."

Jenny hung the tea towel on the rack to dry, then set Daniel's teacup on a silver tray and carefully carried it upstairs. In her bedroom, she set the tray on a marble-topped table beside a photograph of Jake and Sarah. Then she tenderly lifted the cup and pressed her lips where Daniel's had been.

Closing her eyes, she saw a beautiful vision. She saw herself sitting beside Daniel and his children in a forest glade with all her animals gathered at their feet. The vision was as clear as a photograph pasted into an album, and the caption below it read, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, on their trip to see the world.

A family of her own. Wouldn't it be lovely?

"Jenny," Gwendolyn called, bringing her back to reality.

Cradling the cup with both hands, she set it on the silver tray, then she positioned the tray just right so that at night she could reach out anytime she wanted to and touch Daniel's cup.

In the doorway, she took one last look at the cup. She loved the way he'd looked drinking his tea, with his eyes all dark and sparkly. Jenny sighed. She'd have to be careful not to dream of too much.

 o0o

That night Daniel dreamed of Jenny. They were waltzing together in a field of flowers. With her body close to his, she was as graceful as a ballerina. Music swirled round them, and the sun warmed their skin. His hands were hot... and his body ... The music played on and on, but they were no longer dancing. They were lying together on the flowers, mouths joined, legs and arms twined together. He could taste the heart shape of her mouth. She was sweet, sweet. He entered her slowly, and she was sweeter still, so sweet that he cried for her, cried for them both.

He jolted awake. Sweat poured off his face and his body. Swearing, he fought his way out of the tangled sheets and made his way to the bathroom. Leaning against the porcelain, he viewed himself in the mirror. With his wild black hair and eyes, he looked like somebody's worst nightmare come true.

Jenny's.
If he didn't rein in his feelings, he was going to be Jenny's worst nightmare come true.

He splashed cold water on his face, then crawled back to bed. He'd failed everybody he ever loved. By all the saints, he would not fail Jenny.

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