Leanne Banks - Trouble in High Heels

He narrowed his eyes. “If you’re talking about the duke -”

“Lori, sweetheart,” Virginia said as she entered the room, “you don’t have to load the dishwasher.”

Lori seized the opportunity to remove her wrist from Jackson ’s clutch and immediately put his plate into the dishwasher. “I’m done. I’m sure Jackson will help with the rest. I’ll scoot upstairs and get the room ready for our little concert.”

She dashed out of the room without looking back, but she could feel Jackson ’s eyes boring a hole into her as she left.

Five minutes later, she’d dusted the room and pulled out a vacuum cleaner to use on the scarred wooden floor partially covered with an area rug. Maria hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d called the room dusty. Lori quickly took care of the floor, then used the vacuum attachments on the chairs.

A hand on her back startled her, and she whirled around to find Jackson looming over her. She put her hand to her chest, her heart racing. “A little warning would be nice. You scared me to death.”

“Do you need some help?” he asked, surprising her with the offer.

She blinked, then glanced around the room. “I don’t think so. It looks okay to me.”

He looked up at the light fixtures and ran his finger over a sideboard. “I’ll take care of the tall stuff.”

“Thanks,” she said, feeling something strange unfurl within her stomach. Maybe it was the mashed potatoes, she told herself and turned back to the chairs.

Stealing a glance at him and watching his broad shoulders stretch as he dusted the top of the sideboard, she felt an odd sense of expectancy, anticipation, as if something big was about to take place. It wasn’t rational, which meant she should probably dismiss it. It wasn’t as if Jackson had decided he was in love with her and couldn’t live without her.

She rolled her eyes at herself. That couldn’t be what she truly wanted. If it was, she was just pathetic. The truth was he probably expected to take her to bed. Lori’s emotions veered again, this time to indignation. “Bloody hell with him,” she murmured under her breath, determined to get her mind back on track.

“Excuse me?” he said, turning toward her, his eyebrows lifted in inquiry. “What did you say?”

Shrugging, she felt her cheeks heat. “Nothing,” she said and turned again to her task.

Two minutes later, Virginia and Maria stood in the doorway carrying trays of slices of pie and cups of coffee. Geoffrey stood behind them. “I offered to help, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“You’re providing the entertainment. That’s good enough,” Virginia said.

Geoffrey raked his hand through his hair. “Entertainment may be stretching it,” he muttered.

His nerves were obvious as he sat down on the piano bench and cracked his fingers. Feeling sorry for him, Lori squeezed his shoulder and tried to reassure him. “Relax, this isn’t an audition.”

Lori heard the clash of a spoon against fine china and glanced over her shoulder at Maria, who may as well have been shooting lasers through her. Lori lifted her shoulders. What was that woman’s problem?

Lori sat down in the only seat left, next to Jackson. All too aware of his closeness, she noticed the strength of his legs stretched out within sight of her, one of his large hands resting on his leg. During the ride they’d shared, she’d become intimately aware of Jackson ’s strength and the easy way he’d kept Rowdy under control.

She didn’t want to think about that now. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on the romantic show tune Geoffrey played. She was surprised at how well he played. He stroked the keys, producing and evoking heart-wrenching emotion. When he stopped, everyone in the room was silent.

“That was beautiful,” Lori said. “You really do have a gift,” she said to Geoffrey.

He ducked his hand in modesty. “Thank you. Another?”

“Yes, yes,” Virginia said, clapping her hands. “More. More. You’ve already earned back every bite we’ve fed you.”

“In that case,” Geoffrey said and began another song. He played for thirty minutes, and although Lori knew the listeners could continue, she didn’t want to take advantage of Geoffrey.

“We’d probably better stop now if we ever expect to talk Geoffrey into playing for us again,” Lori said, rising. “I should get some pie for him.”

“I already got his pie,” Maria said, following Lori to her feet.

“Good,” Lori said. “Do you want some tea with it?”

“I can get his tea,” Maria retorted.

Taken aback by the woman’s response, Lori shrugged. “Fine, thank you.” She glanced at Geoffrey. “You want to go for a walk after you have your dessert?”

His gaze slid toward Maria, then back to Lori. He paused an extra beat, and she wondered what was going on.

Jackson cleared his throat. “Lori, let’s check on the horses.”

She sighed. “Okay, but I’ll be back soon,” she said to Geoffrey, who still looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“I’ll take the dishes downstairs,” Virginia insisted, shooing Lori away. “And Geoffrey, thank you for the beautiful concert.”

Lori followed Jackson downstairs and out the front door into the dark night. The way his wide shoulders narrowed to his hips in a perfect V shape drew her gaze. Nothing feminine about this man. Nothing even metrosexual. She wished he didn’t capture her attention so easily. She wished she didn’t care what he thought of her or how he felt about her.

Thoroughly distracted, she caught her foot on a tree root and went sprawling forward against his back. She automatically flung her arms around him.

“What the-” He covered her arms with his hands and whipped around, drawing her against him.

“Sorry,” she said, breathless from the fall, not from her proximity to him, not from the intensity of his gaze on her, and not from the sensation of being in his arms. “I tripped.”

His gaze wrapped around hers for a long moment, and her heart beat ten times before she remembered to pull away. Pushing against him, she stumbled backward.

“Okay,” he said, glancing behind her. “I guess we’re far enough away. What’s your game with the duke?”

She blinked. “Game? There’s no game. It’s all out in the open. His family needs money. I need a husband. He has asked me to marry him.” She paused and added, “Again.”

He narrowed his eyes. “When did that happen?”

“This morning,” she said.

He gave a whistle and shook his head. “I knew you were fickle, but this takes the cake. You propose to me one night, and less than two days later -”

“I didn’t propose,” she interjected. “I said we should get married. It wasn’t as if I got down on one knee and begged you.” Every muscle in her body stiffened. “If you thought I would beg you, then you’re wrong.”

“But you couldn’t give me fifteen minutes to consider it.”

“You took more than fifteen minutes, and you haven’t exactly been banging down my door to get to me since we had the discussion.”

“Was I supposed to bang down your door? Was that what you wanted?”

She bit her lip at the raw sexuality in his gaze. “I didn’t say that. What I’m saying is that you haven’t overwhelmed me with your eagerness.”

“I didn’t know that was part of the job description,” he said, moving toward her.

“It wasn’t,” she said, her nerves jumping. She shook her head, flustered. “I just got the impression you weren’t interested.”

“So you moved on to the next guy,” he said. “Is this what our marriage will be like? If I don’t give you the answer you like whenever you want it, however you want it, then you’ll move on to the next man?”