Because of Jane

“And not that it matters, but I was not drunk that day of the press conference and photo shoot. The night in the bar, yes, but not the day of the press conference.”

She put her dainty hands on her dainty hips, reminding Lenny of one of the pretty dolls his grandmother liked to collect. “That’s not how the tabloids saw things.”

“Yeah, well, the tabloids lie.” He shifted, let out a grunt. “I don’t need you here, Ms. Harper.”

She stared at him with so much clinical intensity, he actually got nervous. “You know something, Lenny, you’re an amazing specimen of manhood. So completely male, the testosterone is bouncing off you like laser rays.”

“Glad you noticed,” he said with a lift of his chin. And a testosterone-filled angry glare.

Score one for Lenny. She touched a hand to her burnished hair, while an equally burnished blush moved down her throat. “All of that aside, you’ve made a mess of things. You need a life coach.”

He said something crude then shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I do. I am perfectly fine and I wish my superagent could get that through his thick California skull.”

“He’s concerned about—”

“He’s concerned about the money,” Lenny said, coming down the steps to take her briefcase and tote. He handily tossed them up beside her carry-on, oblivious to the crinkle and crash of her files and personal items. “He doesn’t want the Lenny Paxton gravy train to end. And I’m pretty sure it’s my money he’s offering you to come here for this exclusive therapy session.”

“I wouldn’t exactly look at it that way,” she said through a cringe of distaste. “He just hates to see you wasting away.”

He lifted his hands then winked at her to hide the bulletlike accuracy of her words. “Do I look like I’m wasting away?”

Looking appalled and attractive, she shook her head. “You look okay. Maybe a little out of shape and you do have dark circles under your eyes. But we can fix that with diet and exercise and meditation, and in just a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?” Lenny stomped a foot against the wooden steps, causing caked mud to fall away from his boots. He couldn’t handle this kind of talk for that long. “You’re not serious?”

“I’m very serious. I came to stay for the duration, since part of my assignment is to go through this place and get it in tip-top shape. Usually it takes about a month, but I’m prepared to stay longer if necessary.” Then she leaned forward like a mighty little warrior. “You see, it’s not so much about the clutter in the house, but more about the clutter in your head.”

He put his hands on his hips then nailed her with what sports reporters called the Paxton Scowl. “Meditation? You’re really serious?”

She smiled prettily. “Very.”

He scowled nastily. “Really?”

“Really.”

“We’ll just see about that. I’d hate to resort to shooting a woman.”

Her frown wasn’t so surefire. “You won’t shoot me and you can’t send me away. I’m tired and I’m hungry. I drove all day, so I’d have my own car. But I got a flat out on the highway, and Henry came by. I endured Henry’s smelly, oil-guzzling old truck and even older Hank Williams eight-tracks. At least let me stay the night, then we can discuss this like two civilized adults.”

She sounded so pitiful, Lenny had to challenge her, just because he was in a really bad mood. “Depends on what happens during the night, don’t you think?”

Touchdown. She turned as red as Henry’s old truck. “I’m here in a professional capacity only, Mr. Paxton.”

Lenny figured he could change all that, but refrained from suggesting anything specific for now. “Of course you are, Ms. Harper. Don’t worry. You’re not really my type anyway.”

His cell phone rang. “Henry?” Lenny gave Jane a cool look. “Yes, Henry, she really is a life coach. No, I didn’t shoot her, and no, I’m not keeping her.” He hung up. “Henry sends his regards and said to tell you he’s already changed the flat tire. He’ll bring the car around sooner or later.”

“That was nice of him,” Jane replied. “I didn’t have a spare.”

“Yeah, Henry’s real nice. And you should always carry a spare.”

He went back up the steps and stared at her tote and briefcase. Because some of her pens and paper clips had fallen out, he bent to pick them up and shove them back inside her bag, his hand clutching her tube of “Cinnamon Sweet” lipstick a little too long. When he stood, he tried to hide the pain shooting throughout his body. No need to let her see how he’d been battered and bruised in the name of football. And no need for her to see into his battered and bruised soul, either.

But she noticed anyway. Her tone hinted of understanding and sympathy. “I can’t leave. You look as if you need someone to talk to and I’m tired and I need a solid meal. Please?”

Lenny wanted to be mean and tell her to take a hike, but he couldn’t do that to a stranded woman, even if he really didn’t want to deal with another woman. “Fine, then. Make yourself at home, but just for tonight.”

He pointed toward the screen door. “There’s a big room upstairs on the right.” He paused, looked out toward the mountains again, thinking he’d regret putting her in that particular room, but at least it was clean. “I guess you can stay in there, but you’d better not rearrange anything, understand? The kitchen is straight down the hallway to the left.” Leaning close, he added, “And don’t expect room service.”

LENNY MARCHED past Jane, the smell of sweat and spice surrounding him in a heated mist that hit her nostrils with all the force of something both forbidden and enticing. Since when had her sensory awareness escalated to the point of bringing on an adrenaline rush? Just nerves and being tired, she told herself as she watched his retreating back.

“You have a dog in there, right?”

He turned, a wolfish grin causing his words to come out in a snarl. “Yeah. I hope you like animals, because the dog stays—but you won’t be here long enough to get to know my dog, or me.”

Memo to self, Jane thought, watching the frown increase on his face. This man is hostile and unyielding. Marcus hadn’t told her Lenny didn’t want her here. Marcus hadn’t told her a lot of things. Such as, this man was obviously hurting in more than just a physical way.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Jane called after him, a nervous twitch forming over her left eyebrow. “You won’t regret this.”

“I already do,” he shot back, his tone dismissive and condescending. “Just leave your bags there. I’ll bring them up later.”

Then he picked up his gun and disappeared around the side of the house.

Jane turned toward the cool darkness of the hallway beyond the screen door, dragging her bags since she was certainly capable, for goodness’ sake. There she was met by the biggest, ugliest dog she’d ever seen. A dog that immediately started drooling on her loafers.

CHAPTER TWO

“UH, OH.” Jane did not like animals. Animals were smelly and slobbery and usually an all-around pain in the neck (just like football players, come to think of it). Her eyes already burning, she said, “Get off me, you big lug.”

Taking her verbal plea as an invitation, the dog pawed his way up her dress, whimpering for attention. Jane grabbed his dirty paws, desperate to get him away from her personal space. “I said, get off me.” She backed against the screen door, causing it to squeak and creak. Grabbing onto the doorjamb, she tried to save the last of her dignity before Lenny found her standing here, cowering.

But it was too late. The groaning door gave way while the dog kept advancing toward her. Jane backed up, her hand slipping from the doorjamb while the screen door banged open.

She fell back against Lenny Paxton’s hard chest, felt the solid wall of his body and immediately felt a charged current of energy radiating from him. Before she could pull away, the dog came running and crashed into her—front side. While Lenny held her—back side.

“Boy!”

At Lenny’s harsh command, the dog dropped, whimpered a retort then gave Jane a big-eyed look as if to say, “Aren’t I lovable enough for you?”

Jane looked around at the man fogging up her usually sensible brain right along with her really sensible glasses. Lenny lifted her away, his movements shaking the old floorboards of the porch, his famous frown locked inches from her nose.

Looking just about as flustered as she felt, he said, “I told you I have a dog.”

“Is that what this is?” she managed to ask through a shaky laugh, her eyes on the huge monstrosity sitting at her feet. “More like an ox.”

Judging from the smirk on his face, Lenny was enjoying her discomfort. But Jane also saw something else in his diamond-edged eyes. Fear and apprehension. He’d done this on purpose. Let her walk right into this big animal. His scare tactics weren’t going to drive her away, just because he was afraid to have her here. She’d take an allergy pill and get along with this big brute. And the dog, too.

To prove she was in this for the long haul, Jane wiped her sweaty hands on her dress then leaned over and tentatively patted the dog on its splotchy gold-and-white head. “Nice doggy. What a nice fellow.”