Blue Mist of Morning (11 page)

"No, Anne," he answered firmly, the set of his strong jaw
implacable. "I won't reconsider. You can move in with Jenny and me and
make more money for Sue than you're making now, or you can keep your
job at the restaurant and lose this one. What's your decision?"

"You're not leaving me with much of a choice," she
retorted, thrusting out her small chin rather defiantly. "Are you?"

"No choice at all, as far as I can see," he admitted
tonelessly. "So it's settled. I want you to move into the house
tomorrow night, because, as you know, I have that trip to San Francisco
this weekend, and I don't want to leave Jenny alone."

"It's not going to work out, you know," Anne declared
impetuously. "She's not going to be thrilled having me there, spying on
her."

"I'm hoping you can become her friend, but if you can't,
she'll just have to accept the arrangement anyhow." He shrugged. "She's
my sister and she's acting very immaturely lately. I don't intend to
leave her alone there so Kirt Callen can take advantage of her. You
might be able to help her see him for what he is. I know you don't want
him to have a chance to ruin her life."

"Of course I don't. I'd really like to help her,
but…"

"You'll be helping yourself too, Anne," Ty interrupted
gently, trailing one fingertip over the delicate skin beneath her eyes.
"You look tired. I could have turned you over my knee when I saw you
last night. You've been exhausting yourself, trying to hold down two
jobs."

"Not really. I'm fine. I…"

"You've lost weight."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have. I can tell," he murmured, his large hands
dropping down to span her waist. "You're thinner than you were the last
time I did this."

Anne's heart jumped. She wished he hadn't said that. Since
that day he had kissed her and she had rushed out of his office, she
had tried to maintain a cool, strictly professional relationship with
him. She had only partially succeeded. Though he had never given any
indication that he wanted to repeat that episode, she hadn't been able
to completely forget how his kiss had made her feel. And right now, the
touch of his hands on her narrow waist wasn't helping her achieve
forgetfulness. Her wide gray eyes sought his as she shifted her feet
self-consciously. "There'll be gossip, you know," she murmured, saying
the first thing that came into her mind. "If I move into your house,
people will think… that we…"

"Maybe they'll be right," he whispered provocatively,
tracing the soft shape of her mouth with one fingertip. And when her
lips parted with a swift intake of breath, he lowered his head.

Unable to move, almost mesmerized by the enticing look in
his dark blue eyes, she could only murmur a soft protest before his
mouth descended on hers. Then it was too late. Her own eyes fluttered
shut, and she was swept up in dizzying sensations too delightful to
resist, as his hard marauding lips moved against hers. Every inch of
her skin caught fire, and her breath caught in her throat as his hands
came up to cup her breasts. His fingers curved into the cushioned
softness, his thumbs moving caressingly over the suddenly aching peaks,
until they surged tautly beneath his touch.

His gently exploring fingers were warm through the thin
fabric of her blouse and brief lace bra. Anne's legs weakened as he
drew her closer against him. Her arms encircled his neck and her
fingers tangled in the thick clean hair on his nape. She relaxed
against him, all pliant feminine warmth. Delighting in the firm,
seeking lips that plundered hers, she kissed him back with an urgency
that almost equaled his. Yet, when his hands moved down her back to
cover her gently curving hips and he molded her body to his, forcing
her awareness of his desire, she tensed, her pulses pounding.

"Ty, no," she breathed, turning her mouth away from his.
As her hands slipped down to press against his chest, she could feel
the rapid beating of his heart. Her body, still burning from his
caresses, urged her to go back into his arms, but her brain urged
caution. She took a jerky step backward, away from him. Unable to look
at him directly, she touched trembling fingers to one temple.
"This… sort of thing isn't… part of the
arrangement, is it?"

"It could be," he answered, his voice appealingly husky.
"But only if you want it to be."

"I don't," she said hastily, but somehow the words sounded
ridiculously unconvincing, even to her, and rosy color suffused her
cheeks. With a muffled exclamation, she spun around and started to rush
away. She was stopped as Ty reached after her and caught her arm.

He turned her to him. One lean finger tipped up her chin,
so she had to look at him as his dark gaze drifted over her, lingering
on her still-parted lips before moving up to meet her eyes. "Don't be
afraid of me, Anne," he commanded softly. "You have no reason to be.
I'm not one of those men who finds fear in a woman exhilarating. So I
don't want fear from you."

"What
do
you want?" she asked
tremulously. And when a flame flickered in his eyes and answered her
question quite clearly, she turned and made her escape from the room,
wondering just how she was going to handle him now. Here in the office,
she was able to remind herself constantly that he was her employer and
that she couldn't become involved with him. Yet such self-assurance
might not be very convincing, once she was living with him in the same
house.

It was Sunday night. In the study of the Manning house,
Anne closed the book she was reading and, crossing her arms behind her
head, stretched lazily. She lowered her feet, which she had tucked up
beside her in the chair, and slid them into her favorite, rather worn,
canvas espadrilles. Standing, she stretched again and smiled slightly.
For the first time in over two weeks, she felt thoroughly relaxed and
well-rested. Due to the two full nights' sleep she had gotten since
moving into the house on Friday, she no longer felt as if she were
running on sheer nervous energy.

She was almost relieved that Ty had practically
blackmailed her into coming to stay in his house, though she still
questioned his method of achieving what he wanted. It hadn't been
particularly fair of him to threaten to fire her simply because she had
made the mistake of forgetting to send those contracts to Denver. On
the other hand, Anne couldn't really blame him for taking advantage of
her mistake, so he could compel her to move in and keep an eye on his
sister. In fact, she had to admire him for the concern he felt for
Jenny. Some businessmen were so involved with their work that they were
fairly oblivious to the feelings of the people they should be closest
to. At least Ty recognized the fact that at the moment Jenny was very
confused and very vulnerable. So Anne really couldn't fault him very
much for doing everything in his power to protect his younger sister.

Tugging the bottom of her peach cotton-knit sweater down
over her slim hips, Anne glanced around the comfortably furnished
study. Books lined two walls from floor to ceiling. A large globe on a
carved wooden stand sat beside a mammoth oak desk. Small tables were at
each end of the brown leather sofa and beside each of two matching
chairs. It was a cozy room, conducive to quiet contemplation, and Anne
suspected Ty probably spent a good deal of his time in here. She
couldn't know that for sure, however, since he had left for San
Francisco on Friday, shortly after she had moved into the house, and
wasn't due back until later tonight. In a way, she dreaded his return.
His absence during the weekend had enabled her to adapt to her new
surroundings without the added pressure of having to cope with him.

Unfortunately, becoming accustomed to the Manning home was
all she had accomplished in the past few days. Though she had hoped to
begin getting acquainted with Jenny, the younger girl hadn't
cooperated. Jenny had stayed in her room almost continuously since
Friday, much to Anne's surprise. At least that meant the girl wasn't
with Kirt Callen, though Anne suspected she had talked to him on the
phone several times. It had distressed Anne to take all her meals alone
in the elegant dining room, while Jenny had hers on a tray up in her
room, but she had respected the girl's desire to be by herself. If she
was to have any sort of relationship with Ty's sister, she knew she
would need to proceed slowly or risk alienating Jenny altogether.
Still, Anne knew she herself would have to make the first friendly
overtures.

Thoughtfully tugging at the tendril of hair that grazed
her cheek, she stared out across the room for a moment or so, then
decided it wasn't too soon to pay Jenny a casual visit in her room.
After picking up her book, she left the study and walked across the
wide entrance hall to the curving polished stairs. As she placed a foot
on the first step, she paused a moment to admire the rich patina of the
gleaming hardwood floor. It was buffed to such a high gloss that it
reflected the light from the crystal chandelier suspended from the
ceiling.

The Manning house appealed to Anne. Constructed in the
mid-1800's, it was situated a few miles south of Alexandria and sat on
a gently sloping hill, lushly green with grass and scattered with huge
old oak trees. And the interior of the house was every bit as
impressive as the exterior. The grand hall ran from front to back and
opened on to a large drawing room, a smaller sitting room and a
spacious dining room, as well as the study. It was a lovely old home,
but Anne felt rather lonely in it. She supposed that would change when
Ty returned and Jenny finally decided to stop hiding in her room.

As Anne reached the head of the stairs, her shoes sank
down in the thick pile of a sculptured beige carpet. She admired the
Oriental silk screen that decorated the left wall of the wide corridor.
Outside Jenny's room, she listened for some signs of activity within,
but heard nothing. Although she wasn't sure what she was going to say
to Jenny, she knocked, then opened the door upon hearing a fairly
unenthusiastic invitation to enter.

For Anne's tastes, Jenny's room was too frilly by far. Featuring a bed with a white organdy canopy, windows with
ruffled organdy curtains and a dark pink carpet, it seemed appropriate
for a much younger girl. Shelves built into one wall were laden with
countless expensive stuffed animals that looked far too clean and
well-preserved to have ever been cuddled or dragged around by one ear
by a little girl who loved them. Jenny lay sprawled on her stomach on
the ruffled organdy coverlet atop her bed, looking as out of place as a
bull in a china shop in her patched jeans and bedraggled sweatshirt.

Her chin cupped in her hands, she looked up from the
papers scattered on the bed before her. As she gazed at Anne, her eyes
were as aloofly cool as Ty's could sometimes be, and her only visible
reaction to the intrusion was a slightly haughty uplifting of her dark,
nicely arched brows.

"I got tired of reading and was feeling a little lonely,"
Anne began honestly, giving the younger girl a smile. "I thought maybe
we could talk for awhile. Or are you busy?"

Jenny sniffed. "I was just going over my notes for a
history term paper, but they're boring me to tears. What the devil do I
care about the First World War?" Her blue eyes glittered challengingly.
"Maybe I'll just forget the whole thing and not turn in a paper at all."

"That's always an option, I guess," Anne responded with an
unconcerned shrug. "If you don't think you can write a good paper, then
there's not much point in turning one in."

"I didn't say I couldn't write a good paper," Jenny
protested irritably. "I just said I wasn't interested in trying."

"Umm, I see. Well, I suppose you'll have to decide whether
or not you think it's worth the effort, won't you?"

"Oh, I guess it is," Jenny muttered. "My grades in history
are pretty good, so there's no use failing the course by not turning in
a term paper."

"Makes sense to me," Anne answered absently. Tucking her
book beneath one arm, she slipped her hands into the pockets of her
jeans and glanced casually around the room, noticing the messy
book-covered desk in the far right corner. She inclined her head in
that direction. "Is that what you've been doing up here all
weekend—making notes for your report?"

"Some of the time." Turning over, Jenny sat up on the edge
of her bed and flicked a strand of long, dark hair back over her
shoulder. "Why do you ask? Do you think I might have been sneaking out
of the house by climbing out my window and down a ladder?"

Anne laughed softly. "To tell the truth, that thought
never occurred to me. But maybe it should have. Is that what you've
been doing?"

Apparently not pleased by the way the conversation was
going, Jenny tensed, balling her hands into fists at her sides. "You're
not fooling me one bit, you know," she said sharply. "I know exactly
why you're here. I'm not stupid."

"I never imagined you were," Anne replied frankly. "I was
pretty sure you'd realize I'm here to keep an eye on you when your
brother can't be here himself."

Jenny's mouth nearly fell open. "You mean you admit it!"

"There wouldn't be much point in trying to lie, would
there? I know you're not that gullible."

"Well, at least you're honest," Jenny muttered
be-grudgingly. Then uttering a frustrated oath, she slapped her palm
against one bedpost and curled her fingers so tightly around it that
her knuckles became white. "Ooh, why can't Ty just mind his own
business and let me live my own life? What I do is no concern of his."

"I think it is," Anne said gently. "You are his sister and
he cares about you."

"Oh fiddlesticks!" Jenny exploded, jumping to her feet.
"He never seemed very interested in me until Daddy died. In fact, Ty
lived in his own apartment in Alexandria until Daddy's accident. He and
I don't really know each other very well. So why has he developed this
sudden interest in me?"