Read Gift of Gold Online

Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz

Gift of Gold (7 page)

Jonas lounged alongside her on the old blanket, sipping beer and eating sandwiches while they engaged in easy, totally nonthreatening conversation. Verity relaxed in the warm sunlight and gave herself over to enjoying the unusual experience.

She liked listening to Jonas talk, she realized. His voice was curiously attractive. She let him finish an amusing story about tending bar in some far-off corner of the world and then she said between bites of her sandwich, “I’ll bet you were a popular lecturer when you taught at Vincent.”

He blinked with deceptive laziness. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged and realized she was blushing. “You have a good voice,” she mumbled. “There’s something very, uh, well...”

“Something very what?” he prodded.

“Something compelling about it. I mean, it’s easy to listen to you.” She stuffed the rest of the sandwich into her mouth before she was tempted to try her foot. She
didn’t know why she was so embarrassed. Probably because she found his voice more than compelling. She found it distinctly sensual. It touched her in an almost physical way and she responded to it.

“Thank you, Verity,” Jonas said very gently as he leaned back on his elbows and watched her through narrowed eyes. “I shall treasure the compliment.”

She was even more embarrassed and covered it up by fishing around inside the basket for a pickle. “Anytime,” she said with false heartiness. “I always believe in giving credit where it’s due.”

He smiled faintly and she knew he was aware of her discomfort. His voice dropped to a low, sexy purr as he quoted softly:

 


My lady scatters precious gifts with a casual, careless
hand.

She knows not how much
I
value the fragile gems she
chooses to bestow.

Greedily
,
I
snatch all that I can take;
a smile of silver, a glance of crystal.

But still
I
hunger for more priceless things;
Treasures that can

t be bought or sold.

For
I
will not rest until
I
claim her body and her
heart;

Gifts of white hot fire and rarest gold.

 

Verity’s head came up quickly and she found herself staring into his brilliant eyes. She knew in that moment that she was being wooed. She had never been caught in a web of seduction before, but it was shatteringly evident that she was rapidly becoming entangled in it now.

For a moment neither spoke. They simply looked at each other and Verity became aware of a vibrant truth. Jonas was the one who could give a gift of gold. It was there in his eyes, waiting for her. And as for fire, well, she might be inexperienced, but she was woman enough to know he offered that, too. It would be a blazing, masculine fire that would burn her to the depths of her soul, branding her forever. She shook her head a little to free herself of the dizzying images. Frantically she sought for a way out of the web that was tightening around her.

“Would you like another pickle?” she asked brightly and slapped it into his outstretched hand. She ignored the amusement in his eyes and began a running commentary on the economy and social aspects of Sequence Springs.

But even as she pushed the conversation back into safer channels Verity knew she was running from the stark truth that awaited her. She was fascinated with Jonas Quarrel. She wanted him. It was the first time in her life she had ever known the full, blazing power of this kind of attraction and it both frightened and excited her.

Why, oh why, she wondered once again, did he have to be the wrong sort of man for her?

The question was, of course, unanswerable, so she pushed it aside once more and went back to enjoying the day.

They whiled away Monday afternoon at the lake, and Monday evening Jonas suggested taking in the film that was showing at the only theater in Sequence Springs. Verity realized it had been a long time since she’d been to a film. When she mentioned that to Jonas, he tapped her chin with his lean forefinger and shook his head admonishingly.

“You work too hard,” he said.

Verity bristled. “That’s a joke, coming from someone who spends his life drifting from one dishwashing job to another.” Too late she realized she had come close to spoiling the whole evening.

“What’s the matter, little tyrant? Aren’t you getting your money’s worth out of me?” Jonas taunted far too softly.

Angry with herself for nearly ruining what had been the most pleasant day she had spent in ages, Verity tried an awkward apology. “I didn’t say that. I just meant that you and I have a slightly different understanding of the work ethic, that’s all. You’re content to drift through life and never use your abilities. I don’t like to see ability wasted.”

“Believe me,” Jonas retorted, “the world does not need another professor of Renaissance history. It’ll get along just fine without me. Now stop fretting about my lack of future prospects and eat your popcorn. You need a little fattening up.

She grumbled about the greasy, salty popcorn he bought but ended up eating her share. Jonas seemed pleased. She wondered if he would attempt to kiss her again that night and spent a long time trying to decide how to react if he did. She acknowledged to herself that she was actually considering indulging in her first full-blown affair. That thought made her feel light-headed.

The question of a good-night kiss, let alone anything else in that line, did not arise, however. Jonas took her to her door, wished her good night, and loped off to his cabin.

Verity tried to tell herself it was just as well and that she was vastly relieved. The truth was that she was more than a little disgruntled. She felt off balance. She also regretted the derogatory comments she had made about Jonas’s lifestyle. If she’d kept her mouth shut she might have wound up having a nightcap and
a good-night kiss with her professional dishwasher. Instead, she ended up reading for an hour before she could fall asleep.

Her father had frequently told her that her tongue was her worst enemy, Verity reflected as she turned out her light. Maybe he was right. She had yet to meet a man who didn’t run from it.

But Jonas hadn’t really run from the sharp-edged sword of her tongue. He had simply sidestepped it, sliding out of the way in the manner of a fencer dodging an opponent’s thrust. If she wasn’t careful, he might easily slip through her guard with his next move.

Verity just wished she knew whether she wanted to win or lose the battle.

 

On Tuesday the No Bull Cafe reopened for the light but steady weekday crowd that kept it going during the off season. The local people showed up during the week, as did a few tourists who happened to be passing through town and had seen the restaurant mentioned in a guidebook. And as usual, a few spa patrons could be counted on to drift over for lunch or dinner.

Verity managed to keep herself and Jonas busy during the day to prevent any time for awkward moments during which either one of them might be tempted to bring up the subject of their relationship.

Relationship.
The very word made her nervous and fretful, Verity decided that evening as she and Jonas closed the cafe. She didn’t think that what she and Jonas had at that point qualified as a relationship, and, as far as she could tell, Jonas seemed not to be worrying about the issue at all. In typical male fashion, he appeared blithely unaware of all the soul-wrenching questions that were plaguing her. That annoyed Verity.

She told herself that any man who remained oblivious to the agonizing uncertainty in which she was mired was certainly not a sensitive enough male to interest her. Unfortunately, Verity was intelligent enough to know she was lying to herself. Brains could be a great curse.

But Tuesday brought an unexpected event. Laura called late that afternoon.

“Verity? I want to make reservations for three. Rick and I have a special guest staying at the spa and we want to take her to dinner at your place. Any problem?”

“Nope. I’ll put you down for seven. How’s that?” Verity opened her reservation book and jotted a note.

“Sounds fine. You’ll want to meet our guest, Verity.”

“Who is it?”

“Caitlin Evanger” Laura waited for recognition to hit.

The
Caitlin Evanger? Caitlin Evanger, the artist?”

“One and the same,” Laura affirmed proudly.

Verity was entranced. “I heard she was a total recluse.”

“She is. She’s got some physical problems. Apparently she was in a serious car accident years ago and never fully recovered. She came to Sequence Springs to take the waters, as they say in Europe.”

“I’ll be thrilled to meet her,” Verity declared, aware of Jonas listening in on the conversation as he moved around the dining room setting up tables.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Laura warned. “She hates attention.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll try not to embarrass you with a lot of fawning and groveling. See you at seven, Laura.” Verity hung up the phone and grinned at Jonas. “How about that? We’re going to be feeding a famous artist this evening. Caitlin Evanger. Ever hear of her?”

“I think so.” Jonas folded a napkin with great precision and placed it properly on the table. “The name is vaguely familiar. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any of her work, though.”

“I have,” Verity declared enthusiastically. “There was an exhibition of her stuff a few months ago in San Francisco. I went to see it. Her paintings are absolutely fascinating, Jonas. There’s this incredible, hard edge to them and yet they’re not cold or lifeless. You can almost feel the passion under the surface, but you get the impression that it’s a very dangerous passion and therefore it’s overlaid with this amazing sense of discipline, if you know what I mean.”

Jonas cocked one brow and gave her an odd look. “I think I know what you mean.”

Verity felt a slow warmth rising in her cheeks. She wasn’t certain she wanted to analyze Jonas’s glance. It seemed safer to change the subject. “Good grief, I wonder if I’d better rethink the dinner menu. Maybe I should substitute orange and jicama salad for the carrots in dill sauce. Carrots are so ordinary.”

“The way you do carrots in dill is anything but ordinary,” Jonas said brusquely. “Don’t worry about the menu for tonight. I’m sure your celebrity guest will be able to find something on it to suit her.”

Verity gnawed thoughtfully on her lower lip. “Do you really think so?”

“Tell you what. If she doesn’t like what she sees on your list of specials, I’ll run into town and get her a hamburger.”

“Sometimes your sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired, Jonas.”

 

At five minutes after seven that evening, Jonas found himself seating Rick and Laura Griswold and their guest, Caitlin Evanger. He had met Rick on Monday and liked him. Griswold was about Jonas’s age, with thinning hair and an easygoing smile, although tonight the smile seemed a bit forced. He kept himself in good shape and had the kind of outgoing personality that resort managers need. It was obvious that both he and his wife were very proud to be escorting their important client this evening, but it was equally obvious that they were finding the honor somewhat wearing.

Jonas had to admit that Caitlin Evanger was impressive. Definitely not the kind of woman who would be overlooked in a crowd. There was a sense of drama about her that made itself felt instantly.

She was tall, almost as tall as Jonas, with short, silvery blond hair that she wore slicked straight back from her high forehead. Physically, she appeared to be about thirty, but there was something in her face, a hard, weary cynicism, that gave Jonas the impression she was a lot older in some ways.

Her features would have been riveting at any age. Her stark hairstyle focused attention on her high, aristocratic cheekbones and small, perfectly shaped mouth. Jonas wondered idly if that mouth had ever been shaped into a genuine smile. He seriously doubted it.

He didn’t notice the jagged scar that marred her left cheek until she turned her head. The contrast between her beautifully classic profile and the savage line of ruined flesh was startling, but not nearly as startling as the cold gray stare that met his polite glance.

It was the kind of look that chilled a man straight to the bone. Caitlin Evanger’s gaze took in everything around her and made it clear that she would never be impressed by anything the world had to offer, let alone what a mere male could provide.

This was one cold lady, Jonas decided. Not the kind of woman a man imagined curling up with on a winter’s night. Verity had
a few thorns on which a man could cut himself, and she also had a sharp tongue and a certain feminine arrogance, but there was no doubt about the fire inside. Caitlin Evanger was a glacier right to the core.

The artist wore a steel brace on one leg, which showed beneath the hem of her severe black silk shift. She used an ebony cane to make her way toward the table Verity had carefully chosen earlier. It was the one nearest the fireplace. Her movements were slow and deliberate because of the brace and the cane, but there was a regal quality about them. Everyone around her instinctively slowed down to match her stately pace.

“I’ll tell Verity you’re here,” Jonas said as he finished seating the Griswalds and their guest.

Laura smiled gratefully, her eyes tense. “Thanks, Jonas.”

Jonas walked into the kitchen, aware that Caitlin Evanger was watching him the whole distance. He could feel those icy gray eyes on his back. It was enough to make him shiver from the chill.

He found Verity looking disheveled and flushed from the heat of the stove. The sight of her warmed him instantly. A few curling tendrils had come loose from the knot at the back of her head. She was concentrating intently as she arranged a picture-perfect salad of endive, blue cheese, and roasted walnuts. He smiled at the image she made.

“Your star guest has arrived,” he announced.

Verity’s head came up quickly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “She’s here? Where did you put her?”

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