Something About Joe (16 page)

She was
flushed and a little agitated, and he was fascinated by the rise
and fall of her breasts under her T-shirt. She looked great in
jeans and a T-shirt, the tight denim molding to the curviness of
her hips and butt. Was she wearing sexy black underwear?

“
True, but
taking risks with dollars and cents is different.”

“
So where’s
the risk in having lunch with me today?”

She laughed,
but it was a shaky laugh. “Okay,” she said. “Where to? I’m not
dressed for anywhere fancy.”

“
Hey,” he
said, “check out what I’m wearing. Pizza is what I’m thinking of.
C’mon, I’m seriously starved.”

She hesitated again. “I’ve got my car
here.”

Oh no, he wasn’t going to give her a chance
to sneak off again.

“Come in mine, we’ll come back for yours
later.”

J
oe’s station wagon had seen
better days and it smelled—not unpleasantly—of dog. But the child
seat was new and secure, Allison was relieved to see. Joe explained
he used it for his little sister, Lissa. He was so great with kids.
So different from any of the men she knew. And yet he was more man
than any of them.

Mitchell
woke as Joe strapped him in to the car seat. She expected him to
howl with terror at waking up in a strange place. But through
half-closed, drowsy eyes her baby looked first at Joe then at her,
smiled contentedly, and then nodded off again.

A
bittersweet pain shafted through Allison. All’s right in his little
world with both me and Joe in it, she realized. But that couldn’t
be.

But why couldn’t it? Joe had accused her of
anticipating the end of their relationship before it had even
started. Maybe he was right. Maybe she had over-reacted. Maybe she
was being way too pessimistic.

Joe finished
tucking Mitchell into his seat. Then he turned to her. “At last,
two arms free,” he said.

He held her
tightly against him. Her nipples pebbled and a tingling spread to
the pit of her stomach. She put her arms around his back and pulled
him even closer. This is where she wanted to be, in Joe’s arms,
kissing him, wanting him, on the edge of falling in love with
him.

She jumped
at the loud blast of a car horn and pulled away from Joe, her face
flushed, her breath coming in gasps. A small truck painted bright
blue with a teddy bear and the words “Teddy Bear Beat” honked
again, and loud male voices whooped and whistled as it drove by.
Joe shook his fist in mock anger at its rear view. But he was
laughing and so was she.

As Allison
got into Joe’s car she felt happier than she had for a long time.
Who knows what could happen as she and Joe got to know each other?
If a month ago someone had told her she’d want to date a biker
babysitter with long hair and an earring, who got up on stage and
danced in teddy bear dungarees, she would have questioned their
sanity. Maybe Joe, too, was finding himself in an unexpected,
un-anticipated situation. Maybe he could grow to care for both her
and Mitchell. Maybe—

There she
was again, getting way ahead of herself. And fantasizing
again.

She’d always
thought of herself as not given much to daydreaming. That had
changed the minute Joe Martin had walked in her front door. Now she
seemed to spend half her life dreaming about him, and what could
be.

But right
now she should settle in and enjoy the very real experience of
sitting next to him in his car. She couldn’t help from
surreptitiously admiring his hands with their long, tapering
fingers on the steering wheel. She knew how they felt on her body
and it made her shiver involuntarily with sudden desire.

“Cold?” asked Joe.

“
No,” she
said hastily. Just dreaming—again. Dreaming impossible dreams of
Joe, her, and Mitchell as a family. She had to stop it. The next
thing she’d be thinking about choosing bridesmaid’s dresses—the
black leather or the teddy bear print?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Allison
checked her appearance in
the mirror for what must have been the twentieth time. She
straightened her shoulders and sucked in her tummy as far as she
could. Why had she allowed that shop assistant to talk her into
this dress?

She never
wore pink. But the too-persuasive girl had convinced her it wasn’t
pink, it was peach. Silk the color of a ripe, downy peach. But now
she saw it at night, it looked more like the colour of slightly
flushed naked skin. And, talking of skin, there was a heck of a lot
of it on display. Especially in the cleavage department where the
dress swooped in the front, fastened only with a single hook and a
wrap tie.

This wasn’t
really the dress to wear to the Banker of the Year Awards Dinner.
Last year she’d worn black, high-necked; the year before black,
button-through.

But on neither of those occasions had she
been escorted by Joe.

She picked
up a comb, intending to pull it viciously through her hair. The
hairdresser had put it up, but not in the severe style Allison
usually favored. It was purposely tousled, disheveled—the latest
look, the stylist had assured her.

What kind of a wimp had she turned into,
letting shop assistants and hairdressers talk her into styles she
wasn’t used to wearing?

A wimp who wanted to take Joe’s breath away
when he came to pick her up, whispered a disconcerting inner
voice.

She put the
comb down on her dressing table. The hair wasn’t what she had asked
for, but she had to admit it didn’t look half bad. And she loved
the dress. It was amazing what a difference a slinky, silky dress
could make to her confidence. She felt good in this dress—it was a
temptress’s dress, womanly, sexy.

Heaven knows
what Joe would be wearing. He was a man who swore he’d never wear a
necktie again. Who saw a suit as some kind of symbol of freedom
lost and creativity stifled. She’d only ever seen him in jeans,
leathers, or in overalls printed with teddy bears.

The banking
industry was renowned for its conservatism. And tonight was a
formal, black-tie occasion. Did Joe even own a tailored
jacket?

She’d be the
talk of the bank if she showed up with a guy wearing biker
leathers. The industry was as gossip-ridden as it was conservative.
She knew the talk might not do her career any good. But she didn’t
care. Having decided on a last-minute impulse to ask Joe to escort
her, she had to accept him the way he was. She’d stand proudly
beside him no matter what he chose to wear.

They came from two different worlds and
maybe the twain would never meet. But it wouldn’t be from lack of
effort on her part.

Clive had
hit the roof when she’d told him who was to be her escort. “You
must be insane to bring along your bit of rough—keep him at home in
the bedroom.”

She knew his
crude words were fuelled with jealousy—he’d taken it badly when
she’d told him she only wanted to be friends—but they’d hurt. Not
for herself. But for Joe. How dared Clive belittle him? Her
response to Clive had been cold and he hadn’t liked
that.

Tough. She
was proud of Joe and she’d be proud to introduce him to her
colleagues.

She heard
his knock on the door. She checked herself in the mirror. Picked up
her purse and her shawl from the bed. Took another quick glance in
the mirror, and wiped back a recalcitrant wisp of hair. Sprayed on
more perfume. Checked in the mirror again. Then jumped as Joe
rapped again on the door, louder this time.

She hurried
down the stairs.
How would he look when
she opened the door to him? She braced herself for what she might
see—and reminded herself she’d accept without comment whatever he
was wearing. Embedded in her mind was an image of how he’d looked
the very first time she’d opened the door to him just two weeks
before.

She pulled
open the door. And had to stifle a gasp.

Standing in the doorway was a sophisticate
in an elegantly tailored tuxedo that did more for his
broad-shouldered physique than any tight T-shirt. Gone was the
ponytail tied back with leather. His hair was still longish but now
fashionably styled. He was clean-shaven. Only the ear stud remained
to remind her of Joe the biker.

Allison
stared at him, weak-kneed with admiration. He looked mind-bendingly
handsome. If she’d met him at a party she’d have been too nervous
to talk to him. He could have his pick of any woman he wanted.
But—for tonight, anyway—he was hers. The thought sent a delicious
shudder of pleasure through her body.

He stared
back, his narrowed eyes travelling in appraisal down the length of
her silky, clinging dress and upward again. His gaze told her she
looked beautiful but he said it anyway, in his sexy, husky
voice.

“
You look
beautiful, too,” she said with a catch in her voice. “Well, I don’t
mean beautiful...I mean...I do
mean
beautiful.”

In reply he leaned forward and claimed her
mouth with his, holding her face possessively between his hands.
His hands were warm on her skin and his mouth was hot with the
promise of fierce pleasures. She felt flooded with a wild longing
for him and her mouth opened eagerly under his.

His hands
slid from her face, down her neck and her shoulders and he pulled
her close to him. She trembled at his nearness, at his hard
strength. Her fingers wove through his hair as she kissed him and
forgot time, place; only aware of her craving for him.

Then she heard a noise behind her. She
pulled reluctantly away from Joe, her heart pounding, her breath
ragged.

“
Oh...
uh, Katie,” she stammered.
The sight of her young nanny, grinning knowingly at her, pulled
Allison back to reality.

She flushed
at being caught in such a passionate kiss on her doorstep with Joe,
but then overcame her embarrassment to smile back at
Katie.

Her nanny
was burning with curiosity about her predecessor and had been
quizzing her about Joe as they’d got Mitchell through his evening
routine. Allison was on such good terms with Katie she’d let
herself be teased about her date. She’d felt like a teenager as
she’d confessed to Katie how attractive she found Joe.

Now she
could see, from the way Katie was checking out Joe, she had formed
the same opinion.

Allison felt a lurch of insecurity as she
saw Katie as Joe might see her.

Pretty.
Young. Only twenty-one, slender, her narrow hips shown off in
tight, faded jeans. Her tight, ribbed top clung to pert, perfect
breasts and revealed a goodly portion of tanned, flat
tummy.

A little of
Allison’s joy in her own appearance deflated. She’d forgotten about
the age difference between her and Joe; in some ways he seemed more
grown up than she did. But, at twenty-seven, he could take his pick
of desirable young girls like Katie.

Joe offered
a business-like hand to Katie and shook it. Allison’s heart sang
with relief as she realized Joe was only showing necessary
politeness to her pretty young nanny. There wasn’t a trace of
lustful appraisal—except when he looked at Allison.

“
I trust
you’re enjoying looking after Mitchell as much as I did,” he said
to Katie.

“
I’m very
glad to be back with him, he’s a darling,” Katie said, equally
polite.

“Both Mrs. Bradley and I appreciate you
being able to stay on and babysit for the evening. Is everything
under control?” Joe asked.

“
Absolutely.
Stay out as long as you like,” Katie said as she flashed a
conspiratorial look at Allison.

Joe took
Allison’s arm to steer her through the door and down the path. His
fingers burned on her bare flesh, his body nudged hers as they
walked. She felt momentarily light-headed at the wave of desire and
anticipation that swept over her.

He opened
the gate for her with natural courtesy. She looked for his station
wagon. She assumed she wasn’t riding pillion on his Harley—though
for one crazy moment she wished she were. With her arms wrapped
around his body as he roared away with her, not to the banker’s
ball but to some wildly romantic place where they could be alone.
Just the two of them...

Then she noticed the sleek black limousine
double-parked outside her house.

“
Joe,” she
said, “we’re not...
you
didn’t...”

“Of course,” he said, as the driver came
around to open the door for them.

She slid
into the car’s leather luxury. Champagne sat cooling in a bucket
and fresh flowers scented the air.

Joe didn’t seem to think there was anything
unusual in their mode of transport. He folded his long legs in next
to her and settled back as if he were used to riding in limos. He
instructed the driver to take them to the city hotel where the
awards dinner was being held. Then he poured a glass of champagne
for her.

Allison felt
elation bubbling up inside her like the champagne bubbles exploding
in her glass. It was only a short ride into town. The limo was an
utter extravagance, a wonderful and totally unexpected gesture on
Joe’s part.

She put down her champagne and slid closer
to him so their legs were touching. She was heart-stoppingly aware
of every inch of contact. Wonderingly, with tentative fingers, she
reached out and touched his perfectly-tied bow tie. “But you told
me you’d never wear a suit and tie again.”