Fools Rush In

“Yes?”

“Did Mattie tell you I’m having a dinner party tomorrow night? If I had seen you, I would have told you myself. Just a few close friends.”

“She said some people were coming over. Do you want me to help?”

He realized then that he didn’t think of her as a servant, and maybe he ought to. Seeing her in that light might have a taming influence on his libido. “No, indeed. That’s Mattie’s job. You’re invited as my guest. See you this evening.”

For once, she didn’t look him in the eye the way she did when she wanted to get a point over. Instead, she gazed so intently at something over his left shoulder that he had to control the impulse to turn around and see what had her attention. “Uh…Thanks for the invitation. How casual are your dinner parties?”

The question took him back a bit. What kind of dinner parties did she go to? “Well, I put on a jacket and tie. You mean what should you wear?” At the risk of annoying her, he grinned broadly. “That red jumpsuit would be just the ticket.” He’d wanted to see her in it again.

Her eyes widened, and she shifted her gaze to his face. “Really?”

“You bet. And don’t forget those big silver earrings.”

She stared at him as though in wonderment. “Why’re you so surprised? Believe me, you made quite a picture in that get-up.”

“Thanks.”

For once she didn’t have a come-back, and he wondered what she thought of the way she looked. As far as he was concerned, she had what she needed and plenty of it in just the right places. “See you this evening. Oh, yes. Those things you ordered for Tonya…I’ll pick them up Saturday.” He braced his left hip against the doorjamb. “You grooming her for a show in the National Gallery of Art or for the Metropolitan Opera House? Hell, Justine, she’s only a year old.”

Her shoulders squared and her back stiffened. She’d gone from kitten to lioness in a second, and he prepared himself for their first argument. But her gentle voice belied her battle-ready demeanor. “Duncan, she’s a thirteen-month-old who sings all the time and draws on everything. If she doesn’t have crayons, she uses her little fingers.” She laid her head to one side, and he knew he could expect a challenge. “Do you know how Picasso and Leontyne Price got started?”

He didn’t, and he expressed his capitulation in joyous laughter. “Remind me not to confront you unless I’m ready to do battle.”

Justine hummed a few bars of “Mighty Like A Rose,” one of her mother’s few legacies. Whenever she hurt, her mother would kiss and rock her and sing a few bars of that song. She didn’t remember the words, because she was five when her mother died, but the tune lived in her memory, a cherished possession.

Overjoyed as she was to be with her child, happiness eluded her. The flame between Duncan and her would someday erupt into an inferno, and when it did, the Piper would come to collect his due. She picked up a copy of The Evening Post, glanced at her column, and threw the paper aside. What would she do if Duncan’s self-control deserted him and she found herself locked to him in the consuming passion of which she’d begun to dream? He’d send her away, because he didn’t want an involvement with her any more than she wanted it with him. But oh, how good it had been to feel his hands on her and her breast against his rock-hard chest. She had wanted to scream at him, Just take me and love me and show me what I’ve missed. Shocked at her thoughts, she walked out on her balcony and gazed at the forest of oaks that proudly displayed their orange, red, purple, and yellow autumn leaves. She sucked in her breath in awe at the beauty her eyes beheld. Her mood of minutes earlier dissipated and a smile crossed her face. Maybe this was where Mattie got ideas for her hair. The thought enlivened her spirits.

Was she his partner? An extra woman for the unattached man? Would he have a date? She considered staying in her room rather than be seen as an extra at the dinner table. Her older aunt invited couples only to dinner, and the widowed one did the same, except for the “friend” who’d been a “friend” for as long as she could remember. Justine had long ago decided that her aunt’s friend was her lover and had been years before Uncle Benedick had passed on. She wondered if she should check the dining room; Mattie could be sloppy. She stamped her foot in frustration at her awkward position in Duncan’s house.

She hung a long rope of silver beads around her neck, setting off the deep red silk jumpsuit and silver hoops. She had always regarded that jump suit as casual wear, something in which she lounged in her room. But if he wanted her to wear it, she would. She didn’t like high heels, but wore them anyway as she tripped down the stairs and nearly stumbled when she reached the bottom. Duncan stood nearby, tall and handsome in a dark business suit, talking heatedly with a tall woman whose flawless skin had the color of fresh pecans. She raised her head and started past them.

His arm lightly on her shoulder brought her to a quick halt “Justine, this is my sister, Leah.”

Leah’s knowing look told Justine that Duncan’s sister had noticed her relief that she was his sister and not his date. “Hello, Justine. I’ve been anxious to meet you. Duncan talks about you a lot.”

He looked down at his feet and then toward the living room. “Leah lets anything that comes to her mind drop out of her mouth.”

Leah shrugged a shoulder. “I’m blunt. And nobody calls me Leah. I hate the name. Call me Banks if you want me to answer.”

Justine extended her hand. “I’m happy to meet you, Banks. Duncan hasn’t mentioned having a sister.”

Banks let a rueful smile linger on her face. “I embarrass him, Justine. He’d love to have a dainty, ultra feminine little sister who’s brainless.”

Both of Justine’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure? He’s been acting like an egalitarian with me.”

“I’ve known him longer. He thinks I need a total makeover.”

The grin that settled around Duncan’s mouth assured Justine that she shouldn’t take the conversation seriously. Duncan and his sister adored each other.

“I’d be satisfied if she’d quit walking around like a chimney belching bituminous smoke.”

“Grant me my one vice, Duncan. I don’t interfere with yours.” She turned to Justine. “You’d think he’d introduce me to his boss. I’ve been trying for six months to meet that man on square ground when I have the advantage, and my own beloved brother has access to him every day, and won’t get us together. I was just telling him what I thought of him when—”

So that had been their argument! “If he won’t do it, ask somebody else.”

“I asked my girlfriend, Melissa Grant Roundtree, to introduce us, but the opportunity just won’t come.”

“Excuse me while I answer the door,” Duncan said, looking down at Justine’s face. “Be right back.”

Chills snaked down her back. What would she do if he walked back to them with a woman on his arm?

“Wipe the worry off your face, Justine. Duncan doesn’t have a woman. He’s sworn off them for life.”

“Wh…What?”

“Sorry, but I saw right away that you like him. Just be careful. He’s a great guy, but he goes by the title of man, if you know what I mean. And I don’t expect he’s going to expose himself to what he just got out of any time soon.”

“Leah. I mean, Banks, what are you talking about? I’m Tonya’s nanny.”

“Come on back in the kitchen. Duncan won’t let me smoke anywhere else in the house, and Mattie doesn’t mind.” They walked down the long brown and beige tiled hallway to the modern brick-floored kitchen. Banks kissed Mattie on the cheek and lit a cigarette. “I know you’re her nanny,” Banks said softly so that Mattie couldn’t hear, “and we don’t want to get into that yet. If you’re a nanny, Wayne Roundtree’s in love with me, and as far as I know, he’s never met me. Did you answer the ad for nanny or the one for wife?”

I need my wits with this woman, Justine cautioned herself. “Nanny. Is he looking for a wife?”

Banks blew a few smoke rings. “Yeah. For a strictly business deal. Now who’s crazy? Him or me?”

“There you are,” Duncan’s voice boomed. “Wayne, I want you to meet my sister, Leah—the one who’s blowing smoke. And this is Justine Taylor.” Banks quickly rubbed the cigarette against the sole of her left shoe and put it out.

“I’m glad to meet you, Wayne,” Justine said, showing as little interest as possible in the man who was Duncan’s boss and the object of Banks’s affection.

Wayne grinned and winked at Duncan. “Not worth a backward glance, eh?” He took her extended hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Justine.”

She looked from Wayne to Banks, hoping to see a spark of desire in his face and praying that Banks would say the right words.

“Hello, Wayne. It’s a relief to see somebody from home down here among these jaded Washingtonians.”

Wayne appeared suitably impressed, and his low drawl seemed to captivate Banks, who gazed unsteadily at him. “Well, hello. Duncan didn’t tell me he had a sister. Where’ve you been?”

“Mostly in Frederick. I told Melissa I wanted to meet you, but the three of us are never in the same place.”

“Melissa? My sister-in-law? Wait ’til I see her. All she had to do was tell me she had a nice brown, long-stemmed beauty she wanted me to meet. Duncan, what’s the matter with these women?”

“Search me. Justine, you want to come with me and meet some of my buddies?”

At least he had the grace to leave them alone and give Banks a chance. Wayne seemed interested enough, but maybe his joviality was nothing more than courtesy. Duncan’s fingers at her elbow were meant to reassure her, and she didn’t attach any significance to the special attention. If only he wouldn’t watch her like an eagle about to dive for trout while he introduced her to his friends. She’d been properly brought up by aunts with strict codes of behavior, and she knew how to act with people. What did he expect? She opened her mouth to tell him he needn’t fear embarrassment, when it dawned on her that his interest was in another direction: she wasn’t behaving as a servant would, but as Dr. Justine Taylor Montgomery. Too late to repair that damage; she’d have to watch it.

“You don’t drink?” he asked after she declined all that he offered.

“I’ll drink wine with my dinner, but Tonya could wake up any minute, and I don’t want to be tipsy if she needs me.”

He searched her face as though gauging some inscrutable object or investigating the unknown. “What do you usually drink?”

“A glass of white wine.”

“Mr. B,” Mattie yelled. “It’s on.”

He continued to gaze into her eyes. “Dinner’s ready. Will you sit at my right?”

“But Duncan, that’s…I work for you. Surely, you don’t want to give the impression that I’m more than—”

His fingers tightened on her arm. “As long as I’m in my house, I can give any impression I like—provided I don’t offend you. I wouldn’t want to do that. Come with me.”

None of his friends appeared to find it unseemly that Duncan escorted his daughter’s nanny to dinner and gave her a place of honor at the table. She turned to find Duncan’s gaze on her.

Unsure as to how she should deal with his attentiveness, she tried to divert his attention by focusing the conversation on Banks and Wayne. “They seem to have hit it off. If you knew she wanted to meet him, why didn’t you arrange it before now?”

He placed his fork on his plate and leaned back in his chair. “Justine, my sister is as mercurial as a person gets. If Wayne makes one false move with her, she’ll tell him to drop dead. He’s my boss, and he’s also like a brother to me, and I’d as soon not have to tie up with him because of Leah.”

“But she’s enchanted with him and has been for a while.”

“Enchanted or not; if he doesn’t toe the line, she’ll give him the boot, and he won’t get a second chance, sure as my name is Duncan Banks.”

She didn’t like the sound of it. “Does that run in the family?”

“Hardly. I don’t expect perfection from people.”

She let herself breathe more deeply. “What do you expect?”

He leaned toward her and whispered, “Honesty. Weakness, I can understand, but not dishonesty. And whatever you give me, give it with your whole soul, every bit of yourself. I refuse to be anybody else’s guilt or, for that matter, their charitable duty.”

His stricken look told her he’d said more than he had intended, that he hadn’t wanted to reveal so much of himself. She shuddered to think that, of their own volition, her fingers had found his beneath the table and grasped them as though in a gesture of comfort. When she tried to remove her hand, he tightened his grip.

“Look at me, Justine.”

She cast her glance downward and closed her eyes, refusing him, but she was about to learn that he would always stand his ground.

“Justine, if you don’t look at me, I’ll make you do it right here in front of everybody. If you don’t want my mouth on yours right here, open your eyes.”

She had to open them. Not merely because of his threat, but because she needed to see his face. “Don’t complicate this, Duncan. Please leave things as they are. I want to work here, but I can’t if you start something with me. I—”

“Why do you want to work here? And another thing, I can’t start anything with you unless I have your eager cooperation. You’re as safe with me as you would be in the Vatican. And you know it.”

His question, potent with danger, flowed out of him so readily that she knew it hadn’t just occurred to him, that it nagged at him waiting for a chance to be asked. She dodged it and commented on his assurance of her safety.

“Thank you, Duncan, but I have never doubted that you are honorable. It blazes across your countenance like a big red sun just before it sinks beyond the horizon.”

She glanced first at their entwined fingers and then toward the other end of the table where Banks sat with Wayne Roundtree in rapt attention beside her. “Duncan, please give me back my hand.”

His answer was a wide grin, roguish but determined, and she shifted her gaze to find Duncan’s sister watching them intently. She couldn’t help wondering why Banks wouldn’t use the opportunity to gain Wayne’s attention. Instead, the woman’s eyes seemed to pierce her, to scrutinize her insides, and she’d have thought it an act of rudeness if Banks hadn’t suddenly smiled and then turned to Wayne.

When they finished the five course meal and moved to the living room, Justine expected Duncan to circulate among his friends, but he stayed close to her.

His long-lashed reddish-brown eyes seemed to measure her features, as he gazed down at her. “Enjoy the meal?”

She nodded and forced a half-smile. All right, he was honorable, but her nerves still rioted at the thought that he slept across the hall from her and that their bedroom doors didn’t have locks. “Yes. It was wonderful. I had no idea that Mattie could turn out a gourmet meal. I had expected some first class soul food.”

Looking at him, relaxed against the marble fireplace, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a man so comfortable with himself. “Oh, she can cook that, too,” he said, “as well as French or Italian, and always top fare. There’s more to Mattie than those ridiculous wigs. Aperitif?”

“N…No thank you. I’d better run up and check on Tonya.”

With a finger on her arm, he detained her. “I told you. You’re off tonight. I’ll check on her. If you want to get away from me, just say so.”

She looked up quickly, startled. “Why would I want to do that?”

“You’re asking me?” Ice laced his speech. “Look, Justine, I don’t know why I’m pestering you. If you’ll excuse me…”

To her amazement, he half-bowed and left her. What had brought that on? Surely, he wasn’t so thin-skinned.

“What got into him?” Banks asked, her words and delicate spicy perfume announcing her presence.

Justine looked up at Banks, about five-feet-nine, slim, and beautiful. Almost enough like Duncan to be his twin. “You tell me. You’ve known him longer than I have.”

Banks’s tongue poked the lower side of her jaw, a gesture Justine had often seen Duncan make. “He’s bothered about something, and maybe he ought to be.”

Justine had to reach for self-control to avoid reacting to Banks’s cryptic remark. Still, she couldn’t refrain from glaring at Banks. “What do you mean?”

Unperturbed, Banks shrugged with the elaboration of royalty conferring an honor. “Why is an intelligent, well-educated, smart woman like you working as a babysitter? You’re finishing school from your head to your toes, girlfriend, and I bet you never made a bed in your life.”

Taken aback by the woman’s shrewdness and blunt remark, Justine pretended to be unruffled. “Not everybody can judge a book by its cover. Congratulations.”

“Save the sarcasm, Justine. What are you after?”

A sigh eased through her lips before she could stifle it. She lifted her chin in defiance, but thought better of the words about to spill out and decided to bridle her tongue. No point in making an enemy of Duncan’s sister. “I’m trying to make a living while I develop some writing skills. That all right with you?”

Banks sat on the edge of a leather arm chair, leaned forward, and cupped her knees with her hands. “I’ll buy that. For now. If I were you, though, I’d watch it with Duncan. For all that heman front, he’s as tender as Tonya, and I’ll tell you one more thing. Girl, if you ever trip his trigger, you’re in for a full-scale war.”

“Thanks. But why are you telling me this?”

Banks’s raised left eyebrow was meant to question Justine’s intelligence. “You kidding? Deny it all you please, girlfriend, but you want Duncan just about as much as I want Wayne Roundtree. From what I’ve seen, I suspect you’d be good for him. Of course, what I’ve seen also tells me there’s plenty more to you than meets the eye.” At Justine’s barely contained annoyance, she went on, “Don’t mind me. I say what I think. That way you know where you stand with me. Can’t say that for my brother, though. He’s about as open with his thoughts as a deaf mute; by the time you figure it out, your name is Mudd.” Wayne joined them and saved Justine a rejoinder.

“Are you headed back to Frederick tonight, Leah?”

Justine could barely refrain from grinning when Banks pulled air through her teeth and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Wayne, we aren’t going to get anywhere if you insist on calling me Leah. My name is Banks.”

“Get real, Leah. I can’t call you Banks; that’s what I call your brother.”

“Then call him Duncan,” she huffed. “He loves his name. I can’t stand mine.”

“It’s a lovely name, and I like it. Brings to my mind a graceful swan, long-necked and elegant, as you are,” Wayne said, and Justine thought of telling Banks that Wayne Roundtree wouldn’t be browbeaten. “I repeat, going to Frederick?”

“I have to,” she mumbled, in a manner that suggested she wasn’t pleased with him. “I’m working tomorrow.” She bunched her shoulders. “Duncan would love it if you drove me. Save him the long trip tonight.”

Wayne raised up to his full height of six feet, three inches and bestowed a cool smile on Banks. “Leah, I don’t give two hoots what Duncan would love, and I’m not trying to save him a trip anywhere. I want to know what you would like. Do I drive you?”

“That would be nice,” she said in a barely audible voice.

Justine left them to settle the matter and slipped upstairs to look in on Tonya. All evening, she’d longed to sit beside the child’s bed and watch her sleep, to be there for her when she woke up and see her smile of recognition. Torn between the desire to nurture Duncan’s interest into a living, permanent emotion and the need to preserve her status as Tonya’s nanny, she’d needed reassurance of Tonya’s affection—the one thing that could fill her life forever. Her heart pounded in joyous rhythm as she gazed down at the sleeping child.

“She’s asleep.”

The sound of his deep, velvety voice sent tremors of excitement ricocheting through her body. “I know. I just thought I’d check.” She cut a wide swath around him, avoiding his eyes as she did so, rushed to her room, and closed the door. She’d never been afraid of relationships, had always delighted in exploring them, game for new experiences. And then Kenneth deceived her. She squeezed her fists tight, fighting to shut out the gnawing sounds of the past, to live in the present, grab whatever happiness came her way and hang onto it.

The stench of the burning rubble, the gutted remains of the Sutton Motel in Falls Church, Virginia and the sight of the black plastic bags tied to gurneys that passed within inches of her came back to her, bridging time, and she was there again. She hadn’t known that she cried out until her door sprang open and Duncan Banks had her in his arms.

“What is it? Why are you shaking so? Justine, honey, tell me what’s the matter.” She had to pull herself together, to reclaim her dignity. She couldn’t let him see her shattered this way. He held her closer in an unmistakable caress, and she wanted to luxuriate in the warmth of his embrace, but her relationship with her child was at stake. She rested her head on his shoulder for a second, lolling in what might have been, and then moved away.

“I’m sorry if I alarmed you, Duncan, but I’m all right now.”

He wasn’t easily pacified. “You don’t get off that simply, Justine, and if you had heard the terror in your voice, you wouldn’t blame me for insisting. What happened to you?”

She didn’t question his right to an explanation, but she couldn’t tell all. “You’re right. It was the sudden memory of a terrible tragedy, so fresh and so real. I…I suppose I forgot where I was.”

“And you’re not going to tell me about it, are you?”

Still shaken, she had to control her voice, lest it tremble.

“Some day, perhaps, if our relationship warrants it. For now, you’ll have to trust me, Duncan. I promise I haven’t committed any crimes, and I have no unpaid debts. You don’t have to worry about my character.”

His grim expression belied his words. “I don’t question your good character, Justine. To mimic you, you wear it wrapped around you like a bold spring breeze. If you’re all right, I’ll leave you. But if you need me…” He let it hang.

She couldn’t face the merrymakers downstairs, so she’d get Banks’s phone number and apologize for not saying good night. She got ready for bed and faced a welcomed fact. That scream was at last a physical reaction to the pain of that morning in Falls Church, Virginia. She still hadn’t cried.

Duncan walked down the stairs with heavy, burdened steps. He’d waste a lot of time if he tried guessing what could have been so horrible that its memory wrung such a terror-stricken scream from Justine. He ought to be grateful that it happened, because he needed a reminder that he didn’t know Justine Taylor. Yet, it was no use denying his strong attraction to her. When he’d held her in his arms upstairs there, he’d felt her pain, and he knew the danger that presaged. A man was headed for trouble when his gut reaction to a woman was to protect her, and he’d wanted to shield Justine from whatever demons haunted and hurt her. He paused on the bottom step, unwilling to break his thoughts and join his friends. Maybe he’d take his annual hunting trip early. Justine was as capable of taking care of Tonya as he was. When he got back home, she’d be out of his system.

He pulled air through his teeth in disgust at himself. He had to straighten out his head. If she had so much as raised her face and looked at him or put her hands near his shoulders, he’d have taken her mouth, the consequences be damned. And that didn’t make a shred of sense. He glanced up at Wayne Roundtree and his baby sister heading for the front door.

“You don’t want me to drive you home, Leah?”

“Wayne’s gonna drop me off on his way to Beaver Ridge.”

He didn’t suppose it was funny; nothing amused him right then. But he couldn’t help enjoying Wayne’s apparent discomfort—until the man reprimanded Banks, “I’m not dropping you off; I’m taking you home. You said you’d like that, and that’s what I’m doing.”