Sentimental Journey (13 page)

"Out here, Drew."

The lean, brown-haired man rounded the corner. "Jessica's with you—good."
He nodded. "The cab will be here in five minutes."

"Thanks, Drew." Brodie glanced at Jessica, his look still impersonal. "Will you be all right?"

She wondered what he would do if she said no. "Of course." She smiled, a tremulous action by a mouth that was still afire from his kiss.

There was barely time to say her goodbyes and thank her hosts for the evening before the taxi arrived. She waited while Drew kissed Marian. Brodie was already in the living room so they exchanged no tender farewell.

As the taxi pulled out of the driveway, Jessica leaned back in her seat and sighed, staring out the window into the blackness of the night.

"You'll get used to it," Marian said.

"Beg your pardon?" Jessica glanced at her companion.

"You'll get used to evenings ending like
this if you continue seeing Brodie," the other girl explained her comment.

"Oh." Jessica couldn't think of anything else to reply.

"Like prices, all of Brodie's plans are subject to change without notice. Which means our plans, too. It's their way of life…Brodie's and now Drew's."

"Doesn't it bother you?" she repeated the question she had asked Marian earlier.

"If you love a man, you learn to accept the way he is and don't try to change him."

Jessica sensed the comment was meant as advice. "Yes, that's true," she agreed.

"Brodie is quite a man; all man. Who knows? Maybe if I'd met him before Drew, I might have fallen for him."

The woman was joking. Jessica sensed that Marian was very much in love with her husband. She had only made the comment to invite Jessica to confide in her. But Jessica wasn't sure enough of her own feelings to do that yet.

"Have you met Brodie's other girl friends?" she asked instead.

"Girl friends—that's the operative word. Marian seemed to consider the question. "I've seen him with other women, but he's never made a point of bringing them along for a social evening. I think I would have to say no, I haven't met his other girl friends. You're the first. Brodie generally keeps his private life private."

"I see." Jessica hadn't doubted for an instant that there were other women in his life, but it was a bit bolstering to hear Marian say that she was the first she'd met socially.

The cab whisked into the hotel entrance. Marian stepped out of the rear seat with a friendly goodbye, and Jessica continued the journey alone to her apartment complex.

At the office the next morning, a dozen red roses were delivered to her. The message written on the attached card had been simple. "I'm sorry. B."

All day long she had expected him to call. That night she sat by the telephone, but it didn't make a sound. Saturday morning, the operator called to read her a telegram, "Had to fly out of town. Be back next week," signed Brodie.

Jessica was beginning to discover what Marian had gone through when Drew was away so much. Not that she knew precisely. After all, Marian had been married to him at the time, whereas her own relationship with Brodie was tenuous at best.

On Wednesday night, the telephone was ringing impatiently when Jessica arrived at her apartment from work. She fumbled for the key and, in her haste, couldn't get it to turn the lock. An agonizing number of seconds went by before she could open the door and race to answer the phone.

"Hello?" Her greeting to the unknown party was eager and rushed.

"I missed you at the office. I called, but the girl said you'd just left." Brodie didn't bother with a greeting.

It didn't matter. Just the sound of his voice sent a thrill of happiness through, her veins. "I just got home," Jessica admitted.

"After the last
time, I thought I'd better call first to see if you'd made any plans for tonight." Brodie was dryly mocking.

"None," she told him shamelessly.

"I'll be over."

"When?" But the line was dead.

Jessica hung up the phone and glanced around the apartment. She hurriedly picked up the magazines scattered about, plumped the pillows and emptied the ashtrays. Then it was into her bedroom, out of her clothes and under the shower.

Once out of the shower, she slipped into her short, Japanese-style robe. A shower cap had kept her hair dry. She brushed it until it glistened like gold, then began applying new makeup.

As she pressed a tissue to her mouth, blotting her lipstick, the doorbell rang. Jessica stared at her reflection in the mirror. It couldn't be Brodie, not yet. She wasn't dressed. There was nothing to do but answer the door. Wrapping the velour robe more tightly around her, she secured it closed with the sash, tying it in a double knot. Then she hurried to answer the second ring of the doorbell.

"I would have been here sooner, but I stopped to buy dinner." Brodie indicated the bag of groceries in his arm. His disconcerting blue gaze swept her from head to foot, noting the bare skin of her legs from her knees down and the V front of her robe fastened only by the tie around her waist. "I should have been here sooner," he corrected himself with a suggestive look that sent Jessica's pulse rocketing into space.

"I didn't expect you so soon." She moved out of his way when Brodie walked in. His lack of inhibition never ceased to remind Jessica of the abundance of hers. She closed the door behind him. "You can put the bag in the kitchen. It will only take me a few minutes to get dressed."

"Why bother?" In the short time it had taken her to shut the door, Brodie had set the grocery bag on the nearest flat surface and was blocking her path.

"Brodie, please!" Jessica held up a hand to stave off his advance.

He used the obstacle to pull her into his arms. She strained against his hold, twisting her head to elude his mouth. But Brodie seemed to take pleasure in intimately investigating every inch of her exposed shoulder. The action sent delicious shivers of gooseflesh over her skin, all the way down until her toes curled. Weak with desire, Jessica let him capture her mouth, only to find his kiss more potent. She shuddered as his hands slid inside her robe and caressed the round globes that swelled to his touch, rosy nubs turning to hard pebbles under his teasing fingers.

When it seemed there was no turning back from the flames she sensed Brodie's withdrawal. The front of her robe was drawn closed and a last, hard kiss was planted on her lips. Then he was holding her away from him.

"There's a bottle of bourbon in the bag. Would you fix me a drink?" he asked huskily. "I'm going to need it."

Jessica opened her eyes slowly, hardly daring to believe that he meant it to end this soon. She wasn't even sure if she wanted him to stop now.

"I promised not to rush you, Green Eyes, so don't look at me like that unless you mean it." The smoldering light in his eye told her it wasn't an idle warning.

"I…" Jessica wavered, "I'll fix you a drink."

Brodie walked to the bag, handed her the bottle from it, then picked it up and followed her into the kitchen. "I thought we'd have dinner here tonight—it's the one place I can be sure there'll be no interruptions. Drew might guess I'm here, but since your number isn't listed he can't get hold of me." He set the bag on the counter while Jessica took a glass from the cupboard, "I hope you like steak."

His talking had given her time to settle her senses. She wondered if it had been deliberate on Brodie's part. There was so much about him that she was only just beginning to understand. He wanted her, but he was waiting until she could come to him with no regrets. His control of his emotions was frightening, as frightening as her lack of it.

"Yes, I like steak," she answered him.

"Show me where everything is." Brodie began unpacking the bag. "I'll do the cooking while you get some clothes on." He arched her a mocking look. "Imagine what your parents would think if they knew you were entertaining a man in your robe!"

Jessica ignored that. "Do you want your bourbon straight?"

"A splash of water and a couple of ice cubes will do."

She added two cubes of ice from the refrigerator and set the drink on the counter beside him. Unconsciously her hand moved to hold the gaping front of her robe together.

"It will only take me a couple of minutes to change. Have your drink. I'll take care of the cooking when I get back."

"I'll cook," Brodie insisted. "I'm very good. Don't forget I've led the life of a bachelor almost since I learned how to walk."

As it turned out, he was an excellent cook. The steaks were done to perfection, the new potatoes were steamed to lose none of their flavor. The sauce for the asparagus spears was creamier than Jessica had ever been able to make hers. Dessert was fresh strawberries.

Not only had the meal been superb, but so had the company and the conversation. They had talked about everything, argued over politics, agreed on musical tastes, had a few favorite authors in common. Over coffee, the subject had shifted to his business and the two men who worked so closely with him; his attorney and financial advisor—both of whom Jessica had met the previous week.

"Drew has practically become my right arm." Brodie swirled the half an inch of coffee left in his cup. "He's a very valuable man. I don't know how I got as far as I did without him."

The candlelight flickered and waned. The dancing flames drew Jessica's attention to the carved candleholders in the center of the table, the ones Brodie had bought for her. It seemed appropriate that they should be used for the first time with him.

"I think Drew has a great deal of respect and admiration for you, too," she commented.

"Why do you say that?" Their eyes met over the diminishing candles.

"Marian told me how much he enjoys his work, which has to mean that he enjoys working with you. That kind of feeling only comers when you respect and admire the other person. Besides—" she smiled "—he has to love his work or he wouldn't put up with the schedule you keep!"

"It gets hectic," Brodie admitted with a wry twist to his mouth. "You lose track of time and cities. All airports look alike."

Jessica noticed his cup was empty. "More coffee?"

"Please." He handed it to her in its saucer.

"Why haven't you ever married, Brodie?" she asked curiously, rising from the table to refill his cup.

"Who says I'm not?"

His reply hit her in the stomach. Shaken, she let go of the cup and saucer, which shattered on the floor. She clutched the back of her chair for support. Until that moment, it had never occurred to her that he might be married. Marian had said she'd seen him with other women, but she'd also said that he kept his private life private.

"You've broken the cup." Brodie rose from his chair and stooped to pick up the pieces.

Jessica stared at him. His hair gleamed blue black in the candlelight. The white of his shirt stretched across his broad, muscled shoulders and back.

When he straightened to hand her the broken pieces, she found her voice. "Are you?"

"Am I what?" A black brow arched in deliberate ignorance.

"Are you married?"

"Are you afraid you might be on the verge of having an affair with a married man?" he mocked the ashen color of her complexion, her eyes as green and round as the unbroken saucer. "It wouldn't be proper for a woman like you to become involved in a triangle like that, would it?"

Her fingers dug into the wooden back of the chair. "Answer me, Brodie! Don't play games."

"As it happens—" when she didn't take the pieces from him, he set them on the table "—I'm not married. Does that make you feel better?"

"Is that the truth?" Jessica continued to eye him warily, swallowing at the tightness in her throat.

"Don't you believe me?" he taunted softly.

"I don't know what to believe." She turned away, angry and frightened and uncertain. She crossed her arms, rubbing her hands over her elbows.

Silently Brodie came up behind her, his large hands closing around the soft flesh of her upper arms. "You can believe this." He kissed her neck.

Jessica lifted her shoulder to deny him access to her neck a second time, but he moved to the other side. She tried to twist away. Instead she was turned into his arms.

"And you can believe this." His mouth brushed her lips before she could turn them away.

"Stop it!" She kept her head lowered and mined to one side, but she didn't struggle.

"You're hurt and confused, aren't you?" His voice held amusement.

"Yes, damn you!" Jessica hissed.

The heat from his body was burning her skin, the muskiness of his male scent like a drug to her senses. She was aware how tantalizingly close his mouth was. All of these things stirred her blood.

"You're trembling," Brodie accused softly, "but not from anger. I can see that pulse beating in your throat. I make you feel things that you're not sure you should feel, especially with a married man. But if this is sinning, Green Eyes, imagine what heaven must be."

"Stop playing this cruel game!" She closed her eyes for a second, then opined them to give him a sideways glance. "Are you married or not?"