Julianna Morris - Family of Three

Whiskers twitched.

“Damn,” Jacob muttered. “Threatening a cat. I’m losing my mind.”

The sun was just peeking above the horizon when Alysia opened her eyes. She yawned, then groaned. For a glorious moment she’d forgotten about her soon-to-be-resident problem, Jacob Reynolds.

Resident. As in living together. Naw…she dismissed that description. It sounded too much like…well…living to gether. He’d upset her life already, and certainly her sleep. Twice she’d awakened during the night. Each time because of an erotic dream involving horizontal calisthenics with the man.

“Maybe I’m attracted to Jacob because he looks like Captain James,” she speculated out loud, then dismissed the thought.

The unpleasant truth was she found Jacob Reynolds dangerously attractive and didn’t know how to handle it. If his kiss was anything to judge by, a man of infinite passion existed beneath his starched appearance, a man who could rival the sexy Captain James Reynolds in every way.

Swiping a lock of hair from her eyes, Alysia sighed. She could forget her X-rated dreams and Jacob. But making friends with his mother and daughter would be nice. In the few minutes Alysia had spent with Tracy she’d discovered the child was bright, imaginative and hiding some kind of troubling secret. Tracy hadn’t mentioned a secret, but something in her expression gave her away.

And that brought her back to Jacob Reynolds. Squarejawed, self-possessed, a man in charge of his world.

Cool air brushed Alysia’s skin and she tucked the quilt around her shoulders. Before moving to Oregon she’d always slept in the nude, but the cool coastal weather and draftiness of the old house had persuaded her otherwise. Her concession was minor, she now used satin nightshirts. She loved satin. It reminded her of stroking polished wood, cool to the touch, then warming like a part of your hand. Sensuous.

Like Jacob and the way he kissed.

“Damnation, stop thinking about the man,” she scolded herself. She wasn’t thrilled about this change in her plans, but she’d adjust. Most of her life had been spent adjusting.

On the surface Jacob was stuffy and overbearing, but Alysia knew a lot about deceptive appearances. She also knew a lot about secrets. Growing up in official Washington, D.C., had contributed untold depths to her education. The nation’s capital was a great place to learn about all kinds of things.

The Captain swept onto the bed and she stroked his thick pelt. “Hi, boy,” she murmured. A thrumming, contented purr filled the air, his teeth clicking as he rubbed his jaw along the hard plaster cast on her broken arm.

“You weren’t very nice to him,” she said.

He yawned.

“Were you jealous?” The possibility had occurred to Alysia. She’d responded to Jacob Reynolds in a very female and fundamental fashion. The Captain had sensed her response and didn’t like it. Pure, undisguised jealousy.

“Mrreow.”

“Just like a man.”

The cat shimmied between the bedsheets and Alysia’s body and she shifted accordingly. But when he flexed his paws in the manner of a contented feline, she immediately scooted from the four-poster bed. He stuck his rumpled head out and complained.

“Forget it,” she said, yanking clothes from the dresser. “Claws and satin don’t mix.”

A shower finished clearing her mind, but it wasn’t until she reached for a towel that Alysia remembered the trip to Portland. “Drat,” she muttered. It was bad enough to have Jacob moving into her house, now she had to be confined in a car with him.

An hour later she waited on the veranda, the keys to her truck in hand. When Jacob pulled into the driveway and got out she waved stiffly. He was wearing another expensive suit—blue this time. And though it was stuffy and formal, she couldn’t help noticing it fit him to elegant perfection.

He nodded, then walked to the passenger door and opened it. “Get in. Please,” he added when she hesitated.

“Uh, I thought we’d go in my pickup.” Alysia motioned to the battered vehicle at the side of the house.

Jacob blinked, then stared incredulously. Go in that? The truck was held together by nothing but rust and some baling wire. “That thing wouldn’t last twenty miles.”

“The pickup is very dependable.” Alysia planted her hands on her hips. It was then he noticed her jeans were just as tight as the ones she’d worn the previous day. For a crazy moment he imagined sliding them down her long legs, inch by silky inch.

“Uh, besides,” he said huskily, “you aren’t safe driving with a cast on your arm.”

“I do fine with this cast, and whose fault is it, anyway?”

He couldn’t argue, but on the other hand, he wasn’t getting into the ancient truck—with or without Alysia McKenna behind the wheel. “The Mercedes is more comfortable and it’s faster,” he said. “I thought you’d want to get this trip over with as quickly as possible. I mean, you have a business to run, right?”

“Why should you care? You want me to fail.”

All at once, Jacob wasn’t sure he wanted Alysia to fail, even if success meant she’d stick out her three-year lease. “I don’t want you to lose your business,” he said carefully. “I just want you to succeed somewhere else.”

“I guess the Reynolds family is too aristocratic for a common business venture on their land,” Alysia said evenly.

He glared. “This isn’t accomplishing anything. If we have to fight, let’s do it in the car.”

Alysia pursed her lips. “Maybe we should go in separate vehicles. I might find an estate sale in Portland. Then the day wouldn’t be such a waste,” she said, sounding innocent.

On any other occasion Jacob would have agreed. Alysia was the last woman he wanted to spend time with—she had an unsettling impact on his senses. Yet he truly believed it wasn’t safe for her to drive such a decrepit pickup, especially with a broken arm. “I’ll take you to any sale you want to go to,” he said through gritted teeth. “So get into the car and stop being so stubborn.”

For a moment Jacob thought Alysia would hit him, then her face softened and a mischievous grin curved her lips. Without further argument she climbed into the Mercedes.

Immediately Jacob felt a sense of impending doom.

“Okay,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s go.”

When they reached their destination Alysia got out and stretched. She had dressed carefully for the occasion—extremely faded jeans, a faded flannel shirt and old sneakers. There weren’t any major holes in the fabric, and the clothes were clean, but she knew they irritated her companion. His expression had been grim every time he looked her direction, though they’d managed to have a lively and interesting conversation during the two-hour drive.

Inside the lobby of the office building Alysia’s eyes widened. The law firm was not only big, it screamed old money and conservative values. Fine artwork decorated the walls. And they actually had an elevator operator. An operator. Someone paid to take people up and down so they wouldn’t damage their fingers hitting the buttons themselves.

They whooshed up to the fifth floor and she followed Jacob to a corner office, guarded by several secretaries. “Jacob Reynolds and Alysia McKenna, here to see Mr. Braeden,” he said to the woman at the first desk. “I called last night and made a personal appointment.”

The secretary’s professional smile turned brilliant. “Of course. Mr. Braeden is expecting you. Go right in.”

Alysia felt the full weight of the woman’s stare as they passed by.

“Jacob!” A tall, ruggedly handsome man jumped up from behind his desk and hurried across the room.