This Perfect Kiss (16 page)

Rory looked, too, then had to bite back a half laugh, half groan. Because he saw something new. Crawling up the inside of Jilly’s right thigh was an embroidered snake, its forked tongue and lascivious eyes focused on the apple just out of its reach.

“Oh, my,” Jilly said, sounding faint again.

Rory’s lips twitched. “What would Sister Bernadette say about that, do you suppose?”

Jilly took a deep breath, as if coming to terms with what she’d seen. “That I should look a little more carefully at what I put on in the morning.”

Amen
.

Then she crossed her arms over those cherries and glared at him. “Anyway, you did
not
touch my…my apple.”

He looked back at her with mock outrage. “I most certainly did touch your apple! I had my thigh right against that very sweet, very juicy piece of fruit!”

Maybe he’d gone too far. Jilly just stared at him, her lips moving but no sound coming out.

A little guilt pierced him. And good sense. He couldn’t make her so uncomfortable in his presence that she’d refuse to go along with the request he had to make. “But let’s talk about something else.”

She swallowed. “Not until you accept my apology for the, uh, state I left you in the other night. Are you okay now?”

Since the “state” he thought she referred to was something he’d been in and out of—mostly in—since the first moment her high heel had hit the Caidwater driveway, he wasn’t sure why she was apologizing now. “Okay how?”

“How long does it take to subside?”

That depended on how long it took him to get his mind off her. “Isn’t this a bit personal?”

She blinked those big kitten eyes. “Oh. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just that Sister Bernadette explained the whole thing about boys getting blue, uh, you knows, if you let them get too close to your, um…cherries.” She sighed, as if glad to have gotten all that out.

Rory just stood there, hoping she wouldn’t exhale too hard, because the slightest movement was bound to knock him flat. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “Are you talking about blue balls? The nun told you boys got
blue balls
?”

Again she went as red as the apple. “Um. Yes. That’s the term, I believe, though I think it was another student, not the sister, who actually used it.”

Rory was
seeing
red. Not only had some woman given out a bunch of misinformation to impressionable teenagers, but not one man Jilly had been with since then had bothered to straighten out the biological facts for her. He could see this little sexpot in her naughty high heels floating from Hollywood party to Holly
wood party, making love to men she thought she owed because they’d gotten too close to her—fruit.

The idea made him sick.
“Damn it all to hell!”

In response to his loud curse, the clothing at Jilly’s feet exploded. Something gray and furry erupted. As the creature took scampering laps about the walk-in closet, Jilly backed herself into a corner. When Kiss finally disappeared on a shelf above one clothespole, Jilly nervously eyed the shelf and the stack of boxes on it that the chinchilla had dived behind.

“There’s Kiss,” she said unnecessarily. She also didn’t need to tell him the animal still made her uneasy.

Rory shook his head. That damn chinchilla. It could spend the rest of its life in a shoebox, for all he cared. Laying out the truth for Jilly was more important. “Forget that stupid rodent. Listen to me, Jilly, and listen to me good. There’s no such thing as blue balls.”

She blinked.

“I wasn’t in any more pain or under any more strain than you probably were Friday night. You don’t have to go around thinking you’re hurting a man if you say no. Got that?” He knew he sounded surly and mean, but, dammit, he felt surly and mean. Why had the men Jilly had taken to bed let her go on thinking this kind of crap?

“You’re just being nice.”

“I’m
not
being nice.” He took a step closer to her, ignoring the ominous rustling from the boxes over his head, exasperation spurring him on. “Why would I be nice to you? You have a weird
profession and weird friends. You make me talk about cherries instead of your breasts and apples instead of your p—” He found he couldn’t say it. “Instead of your apple.”

“I don’t want you to think I used…I don’t want to be a tease,” she said.

Rory relaxed a little. “Oh, honey, I know you’re not a tease. Honest to God, I know more about teases than you could ever dream of.”

She looked doubtful.

Rory hesitated. But then he thought about the men who had shared Jilly’s bed in the past, and then he thought about the men who would share Jilly’s bed in the future. He’d been given this opportunity to have an influence on just the type of men they might be.

“Listen, Jilly, don’t you ever let anyone say you teased them and so you have to pay up. You might have a great body and you might look undeniably enticing in anything you put on, but I’ve never met a woman who is less a tease. You wear your feelings on your sleeve and in your eyes and in the shade of rose your skin turns when you talk about anything to do with sex or men.”

She didn’t look like she believed him.

He made a rough, impatient gesture, and his hand met one of the hanging garments. Rory fisted the silk material and pulled the robe from its hanger. It still held the scent of his father, Daniel Kincaid. The scent of power and selfishness. He stared down at the paisley material, astonished that he was considering telling Jilly
about that night. The Kincaids had paid big to keep it private.

But her safety was worth more than that price and his pride. “Let me tell you, honey, that after the lesson the man who wore this taught me, I know teases and I know users.”

She swallowed. “Who does it belong to?”

“My father. He swears Hugh Hefner stole the smoking jacket look from him,” he said, and laughed without real amusement. “Anyway, I introduced dear old Dad to the sweet young thing I’d met in line at the DMV. A nice, un-Hollywood, uncute meet, right? She lived in the Valley and wanted to become a day-care teacher, she said. I melted on the spot. Day-care teacher. Nice, normal. So damn wholesome. I asked her to marry me. She was the kind of woman who could give to our children all I didn’t have growing up.”

“You wanted children?” Jilly said softly.

“Oh, yeah. And with her. I gave her a big ol’ ring and she gave me the big ol’ Yes I wanted to hear more than anything.”

“And then?”

“Like I said. I introduced her to the family. Grandfather, Dad. Had a real old-fashioned engagement party. And two days later I came home unexpectedly and found my father in bed with my sweet young thing. My fiancée. Only she was nastier than she looked. And she didn’t really want to be a day-care teacher after all. She wanted to be an actress on the daytime soaps.”

Jilly swallowed again. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Rory released the silk in his fist and let the robe fall to the floor. “I didn’t tell you that to get your pity, Jilly. I said it so you’d know I know you’re not a woman like that. I’ve got a finely honed radar for those types. You’re not a tease or a user, even though you might be a little weird and you might dress a little flakily.”

“So I’m just flaky and weird. Thanks.” She made a face. “I think.”

Rory shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Now that he’d dumped that story on her, he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. “Well, anyway…” He cleared his throat. “I hope you’re free next weekend.” Better just tell her straight out. If she saw it as a choice, she might think she had a say in the matter.

She blinked at the sudden turn of conversation. “What?”

“We’re going on a trip.”

She repeated the order slowly, patent disbelief in her voice. “We’re going on a trip.”

He held firm. “Yes. I have to meet with some of the Blue Party people in San Francisco. The man who’s sponsoring my Senate bid wants to be introduced to the woman I’m going to marry.”

What he didn’t say was that it had been merely a casual mention. He could easily have made excuses, but for some reason, Rory had liked the idea of having her with him.

But Jilly was shaking her head. “I agreed to let you say we’re engaged. I never said I’d play your fiancée.”

“Too bad,” he answered. “Unfortunately, some
additional footage of us showed up on television over the weekend. You kissing me at the gallery opening. So the tabloids and the talk shows have heated up again on the subject of us. The leaders of the Blue Party want to meet you.”

All true. And the prospect of hours-long meetings had seemed so much more palatable with Jilly nearby.

“Grrr.”

He lifted his hands. “Hey, what can I say? It’s not my idea.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s right. I’m certain
you
wouldn’t choose to travel with, let alone marry, a woman with ‘a weird profession and weird friends.’”

Rory set his jaw in response to her stubbornness. “Yeah, well, at this point we’re both out of choices. I have this meeting up in San Francisco, and you are going there with me.”

“Over my flakily dressed body.”

“Listen, Jilly, the senator wants to meet you. You need to help me out.”

“I don’t need to do any such thing.”

Gritting his teeth instead of throttling her stubborn neck, Rory admitted to himself they weren’t getting anywhere. “Never mind. I’ll give you the details later,” he said, retreating toward the closed closet door.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she answered, bristling.

He ground his molars. Damn it. San Francisco was for her own good and for his peace of mind. “Later. For now, I’ll just—” He turned the knob.

Nothing happened.

He turned it again, shoving with his shoulder at the same time.

Still nothing happened.

“What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t face her. “The door is locked or jammed, or something.”

She groaned. “Mrs. Mack warned me that some of the doors will do that.”

Great. Now he was locked inside a closet with a woman who looked like a sex goddess and who was acting like an irritable donkey. “Well, you could have warned
me
.”

“How did I know you were going to shut the door?”

He swung around, pissed because she was right, and pissed because, as usual, disaster continued to dog him whenever she was near. Fighting his frustration, and losing, he gazed at her and her garish, Garden of Eden outfit. “For God’s sake. You should have known when you started talking about your stupid cherries and apples!” Desperate to get out of her vicinity now, he kicked the uncooperative door with his foot.

The useless thump unleashed sudden chaos.

With frightened squeals, Kiss jumped up from his latest hiding place, sending boxes tumbling onto Rory’s head. Jilly laughed, the sound cut short when the creature dived from the now-cleared shelf to the floor, where he scuttled over and around Jilly’s feet. She gasped, then jumped away from the critter, bumping against Rory’s chest. He automatically put his arms around her, twisting so that her back was against the door
and he could shield her from the chinchilla’s frantic dashing.

The rodent circled the closet once. Twice. There was another mad scrambling pass, and then the animal suddenly quieted, having nestled away in another hidden location.

Rory’s arms still encircling Jilly, they both froze, holding their breath against another violent chinchilla scurry.

After a moment, Rory let out his air. “I think we’re safe.”

Jilly didn’t immediately move out of his arms, and he didn’t let go. She felt warm again, too warm, and her breath smelled sweet. “Maybe we should just stay put for a while,” he said.

She took him seriously. “You don’t think we should bang on the door and call out to someone?”

Inwardly smiling, he shook his head with an almost imperceptible movement. “I think they’ve moved their search to another wing. They’ll be back here eventually, but I don’t want to give Kiss another rodent panic attack.”

She tensed again, her eyes widening. “No. Let’s not do that.”

“Anyway,” Rory said softly, “it’ll give us another chance to talk about this weekend.”

“No.” She said it automatically.

“C’mon. Say yes.”

“No.”

He smiled down at her. “If you don’t, I’ll kiss you again.”

“No!”

“I’ll touch those cherries.”

“No.”
She studied him through suspicious green eyes. “Anyway, you wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want you to.”

He smiled again. “But after I kiss you, you’ll want me to.”

She tried to jerk away, but he tightened his hold. “Easy, easy. Remember the crazed chinchilla.”

She immediately refroze. “I hate that smugness of yours, do you know that?” She lowered her voice in a lousy imitation of his. “I’ll make you want me to.”

He laughed softly, disturbing the curls around her forehead. “Believe me, sweetheart, your revenge is that despite how much trouble you cause me, I want to, too.”

She looked up at him. “There you go again. I don’t know whether to be complimented or insulted.”

“I’m just being honest. I don’t know how the two of us got into this situation, or why the two of us even
met
, when it comes to that, but for the moment, we happen to be engaged. And for the moment, I don’t mind holding you in my arms.”

Her gaze narrowed. “I’m still not going to San Francisco with you.”

He sighed. “It won’t be that bad. It’s a beautiful city and we’ll have a suite at one of the best hotels. You can play around during the day, find more goofy stuff for your shop, I’m sure. Then we’ll have dinner with Senator Fitzpatrick.”

“Senator Fitzpatrick?”

“Yes. Senator Benjamin Fitzpatrick. He’s the one pushing me to be the Blue Party candidate.
He’s the one who wants to meet my fiancée. It’s…it’s a kind of command performance, you see.” Just a slight embellishment of the truth.

“Senator Benjamin Fitzpatrick.” She said the name slowly, as if this were the first time she’d ever heard it. “Maybe I…”

A thrill of victory sped through Rory’s blood, joined by a last-minute worry. “Now listen, these are the final few meetings before I announce my candidacy. If you could just manage to, uh, tone yourself down, it would be really great.”