A touch of love (8 page)

"Until you chanced upon creative imagery and wrote The Mind's Eye?"

"Yes. Larry dismissed my book as New Age nonsense and didn't bother to read the manuscript. By the time it sold, I'd seen our marriage for the sham it was and asked for a divorce. I'd intended to return to teaching until my book became a surprise bestseller.

"Larry blamed my sudden success and the pressures of his job for our problems and begged me to give our marriage another try. I had loved him dearly once and thought I should, but the very next week he mentioned how disappointed he was that I wasn't content simply being his wife, and we were right back where we had started. I saw his attempt to manipulate my thoughts and emotions for the abuse it was, left the house we had shared, and never went

back. My parents were planning to move, so I bought this place from them and came home."

Aubrey looked down at her hands and realized they were trembling badly. "You were right when you teased me Saturday night about not going out much. I haven't dated at all since the divorce. Conducting seminars keeps me from being lonely, and quite frankly, I think it will take a long while for the disillusionment of my failed marriage to fade."

Jesse reached out to tilt her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. "There's no reason for you to be ashamed to tell that story. Larry wanted a cardboard cutout of a woman, not one who could think on her own, let alone one who believes in following her heart Now when a kid falls off a horse, he's always told to get right back on again so he's got no time to be afraid. After such a lousy marriage, I don't blame you for avoiding men for a while, but it's high time you got back in the game. Come on, let's go upstairs. Someone else might come to the door and I don't want to give them an eyeful."

When he pulled her to her feet, Aubrey panicked. "Oh no, you can't expect me to regard making love to you as therapy."

"Why not? It sounds like a hell of an idea to me."

"NO!" Aubrey yanked her hands from his. "I divorced a man for trying to make me into something I'm not, and I'm nowhere near ready to make love to you." There was such little room between the sofa and coffee table she couldn't get by him. She glanced over her shoulder and wondered if she could leap over the back of the sofa without falling on her face.

"Hey, take it easy," Jesse called softly. He drew her into his arms but his hold was feather light. "If you're not in the mood, all you have to do is say so. Fortunately I'm

always in the mood, so whenever you feel the time is right, we're sure to connect.''

His shirt was still open, and Aubrey found the warmth of his bare chest beneath her cheek as reassuring as his words. He smelled very good. The first time he had pulled her into his arms they had been outdoors and she hadn't noticed he wore such an intoxicating scent. Damn the man, she cursed silently. Why did he have to be not only handsome, but so wonderfully understanding? An amorous cowboy was the last thing she needed on that, or any other afternoon.

"I'm all right," she assurred him as she moved to the side.

Jesse released her instantly. "Make yourself some tea. I'll go to my aunt's house and get my things."

"What things?"

"You want a list? Let's see, there's my clothes, and—"

"You are not moving in here, Jesse Barrett." Aubrey put her hands on her hips, her mood instantly turning defiant.

"Look, this was your parents' house. Glenn is your maiden name. It's not going to take the killers any great amount of time to find out where you live. If you think I'll leave you here all alone, when you don't even have an alarm system or a dog that could bite anyone higher than the ankles, you're just plain crazy.

"As I see it, I placed your life in jeopardy by taking you over to Pete's house, and I'm not going to leave you to face the consequences alone. We don't have to sleep together if you don't want to. Just think of me as a bodyguard. We can keep our relationship strictly professional. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes," Aubrey was quick to assure him. "But you can't live here indefinitely. If the police haven't been able to prove there has been a murder, much less catch the culprits, how do you think we're going to do it?"

"I don't know yet, but I've got a line on several interesting possibilities. I'll tell you all about them later. Now lock the door after me and don't let anyone else in before I get back. Just leave all the books where I left them so I can find what I want to show you."

In the space of three days' time, Aubrey's well-ordered life had gotten completely out of control. As she stood at the front window and watched Jesse drive away, she feared things were going to become a lot more complicated before they improved. It had begun so innocently, with a cowboy turning up in her seminar, but a sinking sensation filled the pit of her stomach as she recalled the chilling photograph of the Ferrells. That had been imagery of the very worst sort, and she didn't want any repetition of it.

While she hadn't admitted it to Jesse, she frequently let herself dwell on sharing the future with a man. She had given him all the traits of good character, but had purposely kept his physical appearance vague because any creation of a particular ideal would exclude men who might better fulfill her desires. A swaggering Brahma bull rider was absolutely out of the question, however.

She went into the kitchen to brew some soothing herbal tea, but as she sat down to sip it, her mind filled with taunting images of a blue-eyed cowboy with a wicked grin. Some bodyguard he would make! She might be in far greater danger from him than from the murderers he was so determined to catch.

"We'll just have to solve the crime and send him home," she promised herself, but she had little faith that they could succeed when their only clue was a ghastly photograph she refused to view a second time.

She had set the kitchen table for two, but occupying the same space and sharing a meal were two entirely different things in Jesse's view. 'Til make you a deal. I'll eat some salad, if you'll take a slice of pizza."

Aubrey was amused by his effort to strike a bargain, but saw no reason to agree. "Salads are filled with delicious nutrients, while the only nutritional value in a pizza is in the sauce and crust. In fact, eating high-fat meats like pepperoni or sausage and cheese could actually contribute to a slow form of suicide."

Jesse was used to women watching their weight, but he thought Aubrey was taking her choice of food to obnoxious extremes.' 'What if I order a pizza topped with mushrooms, olives, bell peppers, and just barely sprinkled with cheese?"

"Well, that would be a significant improvement," Aubrey agreed reluctantly.

Jesse grabbed the telephone to place his order before she qualified her answer. The pizza arrived as quickly as the company promised, and while Jesse would have preferred Canadian bacon or Italian sausage, he was too hungry to regret his compromise. Aubrey had a fat-free ranch dressing that enhanced the flavor of the salad sufficiently to make it palatable, and as he bit into his first slice of pizza, he decided the vegetarian special wasn't half bad.

Aubrey took only a single slice of pizza and began with her salad. She hadn't invited anyone to have dinner at her house for a long time, and it was rather nice having company again. Still, she didn't really believe she needed a bodyguard and hoped after Jesse followed her around for a couple of days, he would be bored witless and go home. She took a sip of water and struggled to find a subject for conversation that wouldn't lead directly to an argument.

As soon as Jesse had taken the rough edge off his appetite, he explained his day's explorations. "I looked through the books you'd mentioned in The Mind's Eye, but I didn't

find much on ESP, so I searched through your bookshelves. I found a volume from the Time/Life series on the Mysteries of the Unknoxvn that has a test for ESP. It uses cards with symbols and is supposed to be an accurate test of psychic ability. Have you ever taken it?"

* 'Yes, but it was nearly a year ago, and my score was lower than what anyone would correctly identify by chance/'

Jesse appeared perplexed. "How can that be possible?''

'To score lower than chance? Well, I suppose it requires some sort of talent, but obviously not the one we're looking for."

"That's discouraging," he murmured between bites. "After dinner, let's make a set of the symbol cards and try it again."

"Jesse, really. Please don't get your hopes up." Or anything else she thought to herself. She took a quick mouthful of salad to hide her smile, tickled by the joke she dared not speak aloud.

"Did you try the test with Trisha?" When Aubrey nodded, Jesse assumed she had been distracted by her vivacious assistant. "That's reason enough to take it again."

Aubrey couldn't imagine why, but his scowl provided a ready glimpse into his reasoning. She rested her fork on the side of her plate. "You don't like her for some reason?"

Jesse shrugged slightly. "She's just not my type is all. I'm too tall to go for petite women. I'm afraid I might inadvertently suffocate one with an enthusiastic hug."

There wasn't even a hint of clumsiness in any of Jesse's actions, so Aubrey thought the danger of his killing a woman with affection extremely remote. "I thought we were talking about ESP testing. Can't you think of women as anything other than sex objects?"

Jesse groaned as though he had been harpooned. "Oh, please. You can't expect me to willingly admit to being a male chauvinist."

"I think you already have." Aubrey picked up her slice of pizza and bit off the tip. She couldn't recall the last time she had eaten a pizza, and layered with vegetables, this one was awfully good. * 'Where do you suppose a person gets a preference for a certain physical type? I've never understood it myself. I don't want to be limited by some absurd preconception of perfection when an attractive appearance can mask hideous character flaws."

Their conversation had taken such a dark turn, Jesse began to suspect Larry Stafford had not simply been controlling, but physically abusive, as well. He also sensed this was not an appropriate time to pursue such a personal line of questioning. A warning from my intuition, he recognized with a surprising burst of satisfaction. He had a hunch now and then which proved to be correct, but they occurred too seldom to be of much use.

He watched Aubrey finish her salad and was grateful she didn't glance up before he had thought of a response. 4 'American men are programmed from infancy to lust after leggy blondes, although I've always harbored a weakness for redheads," he admitted with a sly grin.

Aubrey ignored his last remark rather than encourage him. "You believe our preferences are due to media influences then, rather than innate?"

Jesse winked at her. "Sure. Boys are bombarded with sexual stereotypes from the time they're old enough to notice mommy doesn't look like dad. It's no wonder the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated is their biggest seller, but damn few women live up to that ideal. But what about women? Fabio has no shortage of fans, but not many men are bodybuilders, and maybe the few who are can't carry on a decent conversation."

On a roll, Jesse gestured with his fork. "What type of man fulfills your fantasies?"

Aubrey had to finish chewing another bite of pizza

before she replied. "Are you asking if I have a dream lover?" Jesse nodded, encouraging her to go on. She laughed to herself and then made a halting confession. "I've always been partial to the Indians in films. Now that they're hiring Native Americans to play those parts, they're even more appealing."

She glanced away for a moment. "There's something about a tall, lean man with golden skin and a wild mane of ebony hair that's incredibly sexy. I can't say that I've ever met such an individual, but still, if a film has lots of handsome Indians, then I'll definitely go to see it."

"Ah yes, the noble savage," Jesse agreed. "What sort of horse does your favorite brave ride?"

"I've never really thought about a horse, but a black and white pinto would be nice."

Aubrey's eyes had taken on a lively sparkle, inspiring Jesse to continue. "Does your Indian wear a warbonnet that trails eagle feathers to his moccasins?"

"No. Warbonnets are certainly impressive, but it would cover his hair and prevent it from whipping about his shoulders as he rode across the plains."

"He'd be hunting buffalo with a lance, I suppose?"

Jesse was studying Aubrey's reactions much too closely, but for once she didn't mind and smiled warmly. "What else?"

Suddenly the thought of her riding double on any man's horse annoyed Jesse so badly he brought their game to an abrupt close. "I don't know, maybe a rampaging herd of prairie dogs. Would you like more pizza? If not, do you have any notecards we could use to make a deck to test your ESP?"

It was Aubrey who felt like groaning now, but she suppressed the frustrated moan. "Are we back to that?"

Jesse assured her that they were, got up, and carried

their plates to the sink. "I'll help you clean up later. Let's do the test first."

"No. Let's clean up now. As I see it, this is my kitchen, and I make the rules," Aubrey insisted firmly. She left the table and wrapped the last of the pizza in foil before placing it in the refrigerator. She then donned a pair of rubber gloves and rinsed off their plates, glasses, and utensils.

"Do you always wash your dishes before placing them in the dishwasher?"

Jesse stepped out of her way as she pulled open the door and placed each into the appropriate slot or rack.

"Of course. It might not be necessary, but I don't want to leave globs of cheese crusted on the plates."

"God forbid."

Aubrey wiped off the counter. Jesse's expression made it plain he considered washing the dishes twice sheer lunacy, but she doubted he did his even once. "Do you use paper plates at home?"

"No, of course not. I have nice dishes and a woman to take care of them."

Aubrey yanked off the gloves and draped them over the edge of the sink. She hadn't stopped to consider what Jesse's home situation might be, but obviously his aunt didn't realize he lived with someone. She felt a twinge of jealousy and, sickened by the bitter sensation, endeavored to hide it.