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“Good morning.” Her voice was a soft melody, blending with the hush of daybreak. “Feeling better?”
He nodded. “Much. Thanks to you.”
He watched her eyes, held his breath and waited for the disgust or disappointment he expected. When none was forthcoming, Dax accepted the fact that Jenna Garwood was even more special than he’d originally thought.
“I’m glad.”
He held out the mug. “Careful. It’s hot.”
Expression quizzical, she accepted his offering, wrapping both hands around the cup before sipping daintily. “Thank you.”
“Enough cream?”
“Perfect.” She started to rise. “I’ll finish breakfast now.”
The blanket slid away. He replaced it and guided her back down, adding a reassuring squeeze to the delicate bones of her shoulder. “Stay. Weekends are lazy. No rush.”
Jenna settled readily and sipped again at the cup. Steam curled upward, wrapping her face in a mist, as if she were a genie who’d appeared to grant his fondest wishes. Ah, if only it were so. But Dax Coleman was the worst kind of realist, a man who barely believed in people, certainly not in pregnant genies. Though if he could believe in anyone, after last night he might believe in Jenna.
Fool that he was.
Turned sideways on the bench, Jenna drew her legs up close to her body and arranged the long ends of a robe and the fleece blanket over them. Her feet peeked out, pink and elegant the way he’d remembered. He hadn’t thought about her feet, about those pink-tipped toes, in days. Funny how he wished for an excuse to touch the smooth, soft skin again.
She patted the empty end of the bench. “I’ll share my space with you.”
Dax hesitated, wondering if spending nonworking time with the housekeeper was a good idea. Considering his fanciful thoughts this morning, it wasn’t.
Her mouth curved in a soft smile. “It’s so beautiful out here. People should take the time to enjoy these moments.”
Hadn’t he been thinking the same thing? He eased onto the far end of the bench and leaned forward, letting the coffee cup dangle between his knees. The space between him and Jenna was limited, though, and her toes grazed the side of his thigh. He tried not to think about it but the knowledge that only a layer of denim separated his skin from hers lingered.
“I try to find a few minutes to come out here every morning,” she said, her voice soft and dreamy.
He hadn’t known that. “No wonder you look tired.”
She smiled. “Do I? I’m not really. I’m—” She stopped and sipped at the cup again.
He swiveled his head sideways just enough to watch the thoughts and feelings flit through her eyes. Even in the semi-light, her eyes shone with an inner strength and beauty that had him mesmerized. He didn’t know when he’d begun thinking of her this way. Maybe he was still asleep with the remnants of the cursed headache impairing his mental function, but the woman was messing with his mind. As hard as he tried to remember she was hardly out of her teens, he failed more often than not.
And last night, she’d offered to undress him.
A white-hot blaze flared in his gut. He tamped it down, glad for the chill morning, though even the fiercest winter wouldn’t have cooled the fire Jenna had started inside him.
This morning she was rumpled and uncombed, still in her robe, the likes of which he’d never seen. It was expensive; he knew that much from watching Reba spend like a queen, but even she had never had anything like this. Jenna’s urgent need for a job didn’t fit with the fancy clothes or the air of upper-crust breeding she wore like a princess. Had her cheating husband left her penniless? Had he taken everything and caused her to run away in shame, destitute?
“You’re what?” he asked, picking up the conversation, wanting to know more than he should have, but not willing to ask the questions about her husband. Had she loved him? Did she still?
“Mmm, I don’t know how to express it.” Her shoulders lifted. “Grateful, I suppose.”
He’d wanted her to say happy. How dumb was that? No woman had ever been happy here. Not his mother or his sister or his ex-wife. Too far from the city. Too far from civilization. Too far from friends and shopping malls.
“Different from where you’re from, I suspect.”
She made a small amused sound. “Oh, yes. Very different.”
He couldn’t help himself. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
The early-morning quiet, the intimacy of Jenna in her housecoat and blanket, and him remembering the touch of her cool hands against his temples had him talking in ways he wouldn’t normally have.
“A very good thing. A person can feel safe here. Free.”
