That McCloud Woman (5 page)

Alayna
poured syrup over her pancakes. "Frank took care of the major repairs
before he left, but there are still quite a few things that need attention.
There are two baths upstairs. The shower leaks like a sieve in one of them,
though both could stand some remodeling. And there are a few changes I'd like
made in the bedrooms." She waved her fork vaguely. "Enlarging
closets. Adding shelving. Painting. That kind of thing." She parted her
lips and slipped a forkful of pancakes between them. She smiled at Jack as she
chewed. "But I think what I'd like to do first is tackle the wall in the
breakfast nook. You really
aroused
my curiosity with your
comments about the wood hidden beneath the wallpaper."

The
emphasis she placed on the word "aroused" had Jack snapping his gaze
to hers. He immediately regretted the action. Her face was flushed with excitement,
her blue eyes bright with expectancy. The craziest notion bubbled up out of
nowhere … he wanted to lean across the table and cover her mouth with his, and
show her what it meant to be
really
aroused.

Slowly
he dragged his napkin from his lap and wiped it across his mouth, then across
the perspiration beading his forehead before wadding it in a ball against his
thigh. "Then that's where I'll start," he said, picking up his fork.

"What
will we need to do?"

Jack
jerked his head up again. "We?" he repeated, his face going slack.
"
You're
planning on helping me?"

She
laid down her fork, her shoulders drooping right along with her expression.
"Well, yes," she said uncertainly. "But I won't get in your
way," she added quickly, "if that's what you're worried about. I just
thought the work would go that much faster if I helped."

Jack
set aside his own fork, his appetite suddenly gone. The idea of working
alongside Alayna and the forced intimacy involved had created another, more
dangerous hunger.

Paper
hung in tattered strips, already revealing sections of tongue-and-groove boards
by the time Alayna returned to the breakfast room. Thankfully she had exchanged
her robe for a pair of baggy cotton slacks and a man's tailored white shirt.
Even though she was now covered from neck to toe, somehow she still managed to
look sexy, a fact that irritated Jack.

Out
of the corner of his eye, he watched her roll up her sleeves and knew he was
going to have to think of some way to dissuade her from helping him. He wasn't
sure his system could take much more temptation.

"Okay,
so what do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice full of enthusiasm.

Keeping
his eyes focused on his work, Jack tipped his head toward the soggy wallpaper
he'd already ripped from the wall and dropped to the floor. "You can pick
up the scrap paper and put it in the garbage sack I've set out."

"That's
all?"

Jack
bit back a smile of satisfaction at the disappointment he heard in her voice.
Realizing that this might be just the way to get rid of her, he kept his gaze
on the wall in front of him. "Well, I suppose you could start on the
plumbing in the bath upstairs, if you'd rather do something that requires more
skill."

"But
I don't know anything about plumbing."

Jack
dropped his hand to his side, and slowly turned to look at her, his posture
that of a man at the end of his patience. "Well, then why don't you pick
up the paper, like I suggested?"

To
his surprise—and disappointment—Alayna dropped to her knees and began to scrape
the soiled and gum-slickened paper into a pile.

"What
do we do after all the paper is off?"

Jack
stared down at her, watching in growing amazement as she crawled around on the
drop cloth he'd spread on the floor, picking up the soggy paper and stuffing it
into the garbage bag. She didn't flinch, didn't curl her nose, didn't argue.
Hell, she didn't even complain! She just did as he'd instructed. A woman of
obvious breeding, and a doctor, no less, willing to lower herself to performing
menial labor? The woman was an oddity. A paradox. A total opposite to his
ex-wife who had thought herself too good to get her hands dirty. He gave his
head a shake, clearing it of the old memories, and went back to tearing off
paper.

"Once
the paper's off," he said, firming his voice as he refocused on her
question, "we'll have to clean the wall, removing all the old paste and
any residue the paper left. Then we'll give it a good rubbing with a mixture of
linseed oil and a little turpentine. If you're satisfied with the look, then
we'll brush on a clear sealer. If not, we might want to first add a stain, then
the sealer."

At
his use of the word "we," Alayna sat up and rocked back on her heels,
wiping her palms down her thighs. "You'll let me help you do all those
things?"

Jack
angled his head to look at her and saw the almost childlike hopefulness in her
eyes. Quickly he looked away, refusing to be moved by it. "We'll
see."

Alayna
dropped back down to her knees and started picking up the paper faster.
"Neat. I love to paint." At Jack's doubtful grunt, she scooped up a
pile of paper and stuffed it into the bag. "I really do," she
insisted. "When I opened my first office in Raleigh, I was operating on a
shoestring. It was a dump. Really depressing. I completely redecorated it and I
did all the painting myself. I even did a mural of a jungle with all these wild
animals peeking out from behind the trees and plants."

Jack
turned to look at her.
A mural of a jungle?
What was she, a
veterinarian? "What kind of doctor are you, anyway?"

"A
child psychologist."

Jack's
stomach plunged to his feet. He quickly turned away and picked up the brush and
put it in motion.

Intent
on gathering up the paper, Alayna went on with her explanation, unaware of his
reaction to her choice in careers. "I specialized in cases of abuse and neglect.
My clients were usually sent to me by the courts." Having picked up all
the paper he'd discarded, she rocked back on her heels and watched while he
brushed water over another section of the wall. "My husband thought I was
crazy." She chuckled, remembering. "He hated painting with a
passion."

She
slowly sobered as other memories of her ex-husband slipped into her mind, and
she dropped her gaze to her hand, unconsciously rubbing at the spot where she'd
once worn his ring. "In fact, he hated my office, my career, my clients.
He couldn't stand imperfection in any form." A shiver chased down her
spine at the unwanted reminder, and she straightened, lifting her gaze to Jack
… and found him staring at her.

"You're
married?"

At
the stunned look on his face, she quickly shook her head. "No.
Divorced." When he continued to stare at her, she returned the question.
"Are
you
married?"

"No."
He turned back to the wall, and peeled a strip of paper from it, letting it
fall to the drop cloth, then added, "Divorced."

She
stared at his back, wondering if the sadness, the emptiness she'd seen in his
eyes was a result of the divorce. "Were you married long?"

"Long
enough." Jack ripped another strip of paper from the wall and dropped it
to the floor and, along with it, it seemed, the topic of discussion.
"There's a scraper in my toolbox. Get it for me."

Alayna
saw the tenseness in his shoulders, heard it in his clipped order. Avoidance.
She knew the symptoms well. And knew, too, how unhealthy the tactic was.

She
crossed to his toolbox, found the scraper he'd requested, then returned,
holding it out to him as she studied his profile. "Divorce can be
painful," she offered quietly, hoping to draw him back into the
conversation. But he didn't bite. The only sign that he'd heard her was an
increased tenseness in his jaw. His gaze remained fixed on the wall.

"Was
yours a painful divorce?" she asked, angling her head to better see his
face, his expression.

Jack
flung the paper he'd just torn from the wall to the floor and bent to pick up
the paintbrush again. His lips remained stubbornly pressed together as he
swiped water over a new section of faded wallpaper with angry strokes.

His
refusal to talk about his divorce told Alayna what he refused to admit. His
divorce
had
been painful. From experience, she knew that talking helped.
"Jack?" she prodded gently. "Was it painful?"

He
tossed his paintbrush back into the can, then looked at her over his shoulder.
"Don't try crawling around in my head, Doc. You might not like what you
find."

Alayna
refused to let him intimidate her. "Sounds as if you've had experience
with a psychologist. Judging by your tone, it wasn't a very happy one. Is that
true?"

"Bingo,"
he muttered bitterly and picked up his paintbrush again. "Paid a damn
fortune to spill my guts to some tight-assed, sanctimonious stranger who sat in
a chair and mumbled 'hmm' all the time. When that didn't work, I paid another
wad of money in attorney fees." Slowly he turned to look at Alayna, his
mouth thinned in a grim, thin line. "Now there's somebody you might enjoy
psychoanalyzing, Doc. My ex's divorce lawyer. Smiled the whole time he was
ripping out my heart and draining the blood right out of me. I'll bet you'd get
a kick out of digging around in his gray matter."

Unaffected
by his bitter tone, Alayna listened, enthralled. Jack was talking. This was
good.

"Cats,
children, divorce lawyers." She ticked off each on her fingers, as if
making a list, then glanced up at him, teasing him with a smile. "Is there
anything or anyone else I should add to your list of dislikes?"

His
scowled deepened. "Yeah. Angel-faced psychologists. They really get under
my skin." He picked up the scraper and tossed it to her. She caught it
deftly in one hand. "Now, are you going to yap your jaws all day, or are
you going to work?"

"Oddly
enough," she replied, unoffended, "I can talk and work at the same
time. Can you?"

"Yeah,"
he replied irritably, "if the topic's interesting." He stooped to
pick up his paintbrush again, then turned his back to her. "Unfortunately,
this particular one bores me stiff."

Three

«
^
»

"
M
audie
tells me that you've hired a new remodeler."

Alayna
handed Mandy a glass of iced tea, then shuddered visibly as she sank onto a
patio chair opposite her cousin. "Yes, and I can just imagine what all
Maudie had to say on
that
subject."

"Oh,
let's see," Mandy replied, tapping a finger against her chin, as if trying
to recall the details of the conversation. "Something about Frank scamming
you out of thousands of dollars, and what a softhearted little fool you are.
Then I believe she mentioned something about this man you hired to replace
Frank being a good-looking hunk, and that she is sure you hired him just to
satisfy this insatiable need of yours for wild sex and—"

Alayna
snorted. "Oh, yeah," she said sarcastically, "that was it, all
right."

"—and,"
Mandy continued
pointedly, trying hard not to smile, "this same man—the one, by the way,
who was hired strictly for his sexual prowess—will also steal you blind, the
same as Frank did." She lifted her glass of tea, and smiled at Alayna from
behind it. "I think that's about all she had to say on the subject."

Alayna
arched a brow. "Are you sure?" she asked dryly.

Mandy
tossed back her head and laughed. "No. But those are the best parts."

Annoyed,
Alayna folded her arms beneath her breasts and crossed her legs, her foot
pumping like an oil derrick. "I swear. I love Maudie to death, but there
are times…"

"I
know, I know," Mandy agreed, still laughing. "But she means
well."

In
spite of her annoyance, Alayna found herself chuckling, too, as she thought of
Maudie with her mother-hen-heart and her bossy ways. "Yes. It's her only
redeeming quality."

Mandy
nodded her agreement, then glanced around. "Where is he, anyway? I thought
for sure I would be interrupting something really sordid by dropping by without
calling first."

"He
went to town to pick up some supplies."

"Oh,
well. Maybe next time." As she sipped her tea, Mandy continued to look
around, making note of the changes since her last visit. "You've really
done a lot with the place."

Alayna
followed her cousin's gaze, smiling her pleasure at all she'd managed to
accomplish. Frank had completed a lot of the work before he'd run out on her,
and after only a week, Jack had done quite a bit more. "Yes, but there's
still a lot to be done."

"All
in due time."

Alayna's
brow creased with worry. "But that's just it. I don't know how much time I
have. I want to be ready if they should call and have more children needing a
home."