The Trouble with J.J Part 13

A muscle twitched in his cheek. "Genna and I have been at Copper Beeches. It's the first time I've gone anywhere in two months. Not that it's any of your business."

He was dangerously close to losing his temper, Genna thought, biting her lip. It wouldn't do for him to lose his cool when the woman was in perfect control and obviously baiting him. Genna put her hand on Jared's forearm. It was like iron beneath his dinner jacket.

"Jared," she murmured. "Introduce me."

He looked at her as though she'd just materialized from out of nowhere. Realization dawned slowly, softening the fierceness of his features.

"Genna, Simone Harcourt. I've told you all all about her." He shot a meaningful look at the composed Ms. Harcourt. "Simone, this is Genna Hastings, my neighbor-" about her." He shot a meaningful look at the composed Ms. Harcourt. "Simone, this is Genna Hastings, my neighbor-"

"How convenient for you." Simone smiled unpleasantly.

"And friend," he bit off, his face turning to granite, his eyes twin blue flames. He was about to say something more-or perhaps go for the woman's throat-but Genna cut him off at the pa.s.s.

"So," she said, stepping forward with a saccharine smile. "You're the poor lonely woman trying to steal Jared's daughter from him. How incredibly rude of you to drop by. I was under the mistaken impression that Elaine's family was well bred. Well, no matter. I'll go make us some coffee, though I seriously doubt Jared will invite you to stay."

She turned from Simone, smiled and winked at Jared. A suspicious twitch tugged at the corner of his mouth. He watched Genna sweep from the room like a queen. She had rescued him from making a major tactical error and reminded him he wasn't in this dogfight alone. They were a team.

Sliding his hands casually into his pants pockets, Jared turned back to Simone, who looked considerably less composed than she had a moment ago.

"Genna will be Alyssa's kindergarten teacher this fall. She's been a tremendous help in getting Alyssa to cope with her mother's death. She minored in psychology and graduated summa c.u.m laude from Va.s.sar."

Simone swallowed. Things were not going the way she had expected. She hadn't been expecting Jared's neat, tastefully decorated home or quiet, colonial Tory Hills, with its treelined streets. She hadn't been expecting a baby-sitter who looked as if he could crush beer cans by scowling at them but instead spent the evening regaling her with the details of his master's thesis: The Importance of Paternal Involvement in Child Rearing. She hadn't expected the station wagon in the garage or the swing set in the fenced backyard.

A headache began to throb between her neatly plucked brows. Jared was nothing like she'd remembered. Her sister had married an overgrown teenager with long hair and an I-don't-give-a-d.a.m.n att.i.tude. The man standing before her appeared to be mature. He was composed, sardonic, and handsomely turned out. The diamond stud in his ear gave him the dangerous aura of a gentleman pirate from a bygone era.

And then there was Genna Hastings. Summa c.u.m laude from Va.s.sar? That blasted private investigator had told her Genna Hastings was unemployed. She should have known better than to hire a man who looked like a bargain-bas.e.m.e.nt Mike Hammer. From the pictures he'd taken, she had come to the erroneous conclusion that Genna Hastings was a topless dancer, or worse.

"What are you doing here, Simone?" Jared asked in a bored tone as he leaned indolently back against his cluttered desk.

With a deep breath she calmed her features and her mind. She had to keep her objective in clear view. "I came here to give you a chance to settle this business out of court. I think we both know what will be best for Alyssa in the long run. There's really no need to drag your personal dirty laundry into public; your reputation is bad enough already. Turn Alyssa over to my care, and I'll be very generous with your visitation privileges."

Jared gave an unamused bark of laughter. "That's big of you, considering you don't have squat to take to court."

"Don't I?" She arched an elegant brow at Jared, then gave Genna, who had just returned to the room, an insulting once-over. She rose gracefully from the chair with a large manila envelope in her hand and came toward them, taking her time. She had the moment and she was making the most of it. She stroked the envelope lovingly, her confidence returning. "I think the court will find these extremely interesting. Proof positive in black and white that you aren't fit to have Alyssa in your custody. Really, they only substantiate the less than desirable reputation you've built for yourself over the years."

She handed the envelope to Jared and stood back to watch.

A feeling of foreboding crawled over Genna as she watched Jared's hands open the flap and extract Simone's "proof." Then the world abruptly dropped out from under her.

The envelope was full of grainy eight-by-ten black and white blowups of Jared and herself. Several had been shot from outside the back screen door of Genna's own house. Those were of Jared holding her on his lap on the kitchen floor. There was one of them nose to nose in the department store on the day they'd run into Allan Corrigan.

The great majority of the photos had been taken from outside Jared's bedroom window. The horizontal slashes of venetian blinds cutting across the pictures, only added to the feeling of voyeurism. And though the quality of the photographs was poor, the subject matter was quite easily defined: she and Jared undressing each other, naked, embracing, making love.

Genna felt sick. Bile rose in her throat. What kind of monster could do this? Someone she didn't even know had taken her cherished memories and reduced them to p.o.r.nography. Tears blurred her vision. She felt her knees sag as if the bones were suddenly disintegrating. Jared's arm came around her bare back as strong as an oak limb. He held her against a solid body that trembled with rage.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, kissing her hair. He turned his eyes on Simone then, and she stepped back at the pure, violent hatred in them. "Want to take a picture of this too, Simone?"

She flinched at the acid in his voice. Her veneer of confidence had cracked the moment Genna had laid eyes on the pictures. She had looked so hurt, so betrayed. That wasn't at all what Simone had expected. Anger, yes, and embarra.s.sment, but Genna had reacted as if something beautiful had just been senselessly destroyed.

Jared eased Genna down onto his desk chair, where she sat in numb, shocked silence. Everything had taken on a sense of unreality for her. She felt stupid and helpless in her fancy party dress.

Jared wished he could do something to ease Genna's pain, but the only thing he could think of was to wrap his hands around Simone Harcourt's throat and choke the life out of her. He could take what Simone dished out to him personally, but she had hurt Genna, who was an innocent bystander in all this. That was unforgivable.

He rounded on Simone, feeling sick and disgusted, swinging at her with the envelope and photographs clutched in his hand. "You b.i.t.c.h! You pay someone to take pictures like this and you think I'm I'm not fit to be a parent?" not fit to be a parent?"

Simone swallowed convulsively, raking a badly shaking hand through her dark hair. "The court needs evidence-"

"Evidence!" he shouted. "What the h.e.l.l kind of evidence is this? Evidence that Genna and I are two healthy adults who care very much for each other? You don't see Alyssa in these pictures, do you? Do you?" Do you?"

"N-no-but-" she stammered.

"She wasn't even in the d.a.m.n house!"

Trembling, Simone grabbed the back of a chair for support as she watched Jared pace the room like a caged panther. Never in her life had she seen such blind fury. It terrified her to know she was the one guilty of unleashing it, terrified that it might turn full tide on her.

Jared stopped his pacing, his chest heaving beneath his elegant evening wear. Hands shaking with rage, he shoved the photographs back into the envelope and resealed it. For a long moment he stood there, the air around him vibrating with the same antic.i.p.ation that thickens the air before a violent storm.

Suddenly he swore viciously and flung the envelope to his desktop, sending papers flying. His hands ravaged his short raven hair, and he cradled his head in them as he struggled to rein in his emotions. When he spoke, a fault line of possessive desperation cracked through his rough voice. "What kind of evidence am I supposed to find that shows how much I love my daughter?"

His question hung in the air.

Genna saw his eyes glaze with tears and she looked away, her heart breaking for him. Standing in the doorway was Alyssa, barefoot and looking very tiny in her eyelet nightgown. Her big eyes swam with tears as she clutched her doll to her.

"Daddy?"

Jared was on his knees beside her instantly, smoothing a hand back over her neatly braided black hair. "What is it, baby?"

"Why are you fighting?" One lone tear skittered down her cheek.

Jared tenderly took his daughter in his arms and brushed the tear away with his thumb. He had been on the verge of losing every vestige of self-control; now he struggled to regain it. Alyssa was frightened, she needed his strength now, his rea.s.surance. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Aunt Simone and I are having a disagreement, that's all. It's nothing for you to worry about, m.u.f.fin."

Alyssa looked from adult to adult, clearly skeptical of her father's explanation. A little whimper came from her throat as she cuddled against Jared. "I'm scared, Daddy."

Not half as scared as I am. I love you so much, he thought as he hugged all forty-two pounds of sweet-smelling little girl and rained kisses over her dark head. G.o.d, don't let me lose her now G.o.d, don't let me lose her now.

"There's nothing to be scared of, baby. Everything will be all right, I promise," he muttered, immediately feeling like a fraud and a liar. "You should be in bed, m.u.f.fin; it's late. Let's go, okay?"

"Come and tuck me and Dollie in, Daddy," Alyssa insisted, dropping her head to his broad shoulder and sticking her thumb into her mouth.

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

They disappeared down the hall, leaving Genna and Simone and a deafening silence. Genna would have sat there for the rest of her life without speaking. She wanted to pretend Simone Harcourt didn't exist, hadn't violated her love for Jared, wasn't trying to take Alyssa away. She had tried to temper her feelings with some sense of sympathy toward the woman. Simone had lost her sister; having Alyssa with her was the one way of holding on to some part of Elaine. But the ability to think objectively had shriveled and died inside Genna, and she sat quietly running her palms over the skirt of her dress.

The pressure of guilt forced Simone to speak. "I want only what's best for Alyssa. She's my sister's child."

"She's Jared's child." Genna said with weary vehemence.

Simone went to the wing chair to retrieve her beige calfskin purse. She took an uneven breath and shook her head as she dug for the keys to her car. "He's not the man I remember."

Genna wanted to laugh. Simone had been expecting a c.o.c.ky quarterback with punk hair and a T-shirt from Chowderhead's Chowderhouse, as if that had anything to do with the man Jared Hennessy was inside. She could almost sympathize with the woman's confusion. Almost. "Maybe you just never looked close enough."

If Simone had meant to make a grand exit. Genna didn't wait to see it. She kicked her heels off and padded out of the room in her stocking feet. It was late and she was tired, the kind of bone-deep tired that comes after a highly charged emotional battle. She couldn't help but wonder who had won.

At the door to Alyssa's room she stopped and leaned against the frame, hesitating. The door was ajar. Her need to see Jared overriding her respect for his privacy, she pushed it open with one finger and peered in.

Alyssa was asleep, curled on her side with her thumb in her mouth and Dollie tucked securely beneath her chin. Jared knelt beside the bed, head bowed as if in prayer as he watched his daughter sleep.

He must have sensed Genna standing there, because she didn't move, yet Jared turned to stare at her. With the weariness of a hundred-year-old man, he got to his feet and moved across the room. He had tugged loose his bow tie, and it hung like a ribbon of black silk around the open neck of his wing collar.

"Had enough excitement for one evening?" he asked in a throaty whisper, one corner of his mouth lifting fractionally.

"I'm okay." She sighed. She reached out and fingered a black stud on his shirtfront.

His gaze held fragments of respect, wonder, something more. Finally he said, "Yeah, you are."

"Are you?"

It seemed to take an eternity for him to gather the strength to shrug. "Don't worry about me. I can play with pain." He forced a pathetically fake grin. "That's why I make the big bucks."

Genna didn't smile back. "Don't bother with the act, Hennessy. We're a team, remember?"

He heaved a sigh and ran the tip of his forefinger down Genna's upturned nose. "I remember. If I'd known how rough this game was going to get when I recruited you, I'd have warned you, you know."

"I know. I wouldn't have done anything differently. I don't have any regrets. I'm a big girl."

"I've noticed." The glimmer of a twinkle lit his eyes in the dim light of the hallway. His hands found her waist and he drew, her close. "Listen, I don't have a game ball to award you, but I'll buy you a drink. You don't mind using Bullwinkle tumblers, do you?"

"What?" she teased. "No Rocky the Flying Squirrel?"

"Sorry. The burger joint's not offering those until next week."

With tired smiles on their faces they walked to the kitchen arm in arm for support.

By silent agreement the subject of Simone was dropped. Conspicuous by her absence, they a.s.sumed she had taken her evidence and gone home, leaving them alone to sit on the patio holding hands, sipping fine Irish whiskey and listening to the quiet sounds of the night.

"Rise and whine, Sleeping Beauty," a smoky voice murmured in Genna's ear. She lay sprawled on her stomach in bed with her nightgown hitched up around her waist and her face buried in her pillow.

"Oven mitts," she mumbled, squirming into a more comfortable position.

"Oven mitts?" Jared said. He stood back a moment to survey the situation-and the view. He'd had every intention of waking Genna quickly; he was eager to get on the road. But when he'd come up the stairs and seen her enchanting backside presented so invitingly, his intentions had gone out the window. A man couldn't really pa.s.s up an opportunity like this, now, could he? he asked himself.

He pulled off his cowboy boots, dropping them on the rag rug beside the bed, then tried to ease down onto the bed beside Genna. She was taking up too much s.p.a.ce and wouldn't budge. "Hey, bed hog," he teased in her ear. "Move over."

One sleepy eye opened and focused on him, and she smiled. She made enough room on the bed for him to settle comfortably, then immediately cuddled up to him and sighed contentedly. In her foggy mind she never thought to wonder what he was doing in her bed or how he had gotten into her house. The important thing was he was here, and it seemed very right.

"Hi," she said in a sleep-rusty voice which Jared found incredibly s.e.xy.

"Hi yourself, gorgeous." He smiled. Her hair was all mussed around her head, and she had racc.o.o.n smudges of mascara beneath the bleary blue orbs of her eyes. He thought she was adorable. "You awake?"

"Mmmm-hmmm." Her hands began to wander over the vast planes of his chest but stopped abruptly. She looked up and frowned at him. "You're wearing clothes," she said accusingly.

Jared chuckled. He pulled her head down for a long, hungry kiss as one hand explored every inch of exposed flesh from waist to thigh. His fingers combed through the soft, dark curls that protected her femininity, and he teased her until she was gasping for air.

"Yes, I'm wearing clothes," he whispered silkily. "Want me to take them off?"

Her hands were already unbuckling his belt. "Let's just rearrange them. I'm in kind of a hurry."

"Really?" he remarked dryly as he rose so she could yank his jeans and briefs down. "I hadn't noticed."

"Quit fooling around, Hennessy," she groused, her fingers delighting in the feel of his skin.

Jared refrained from pointing out that fooling around seemed to be exactly what she wanted to do. Instead, he rolled her over and made love to her with an enthusiasm she more than matched.

The moment of sweet, hot release came quickly, but seemed to go on and on. Slowly, gasps relaxed into sighs that slid into even breathing. Just as Genna was drifting off, Jared pinched her bottom.

"Jared," she exclaimed as if she had just noticed him. "What are you doing here?"

"That should have been self-explanatory," he said, nuzzling behind her ear. "Maybe I'm not doing it right."

"I wouldn't worry on that score if I were you." Her body was still tingling from his touch. He made her feel wonderful ... and sleepy. Her eyes drifted shut.

"I came to wake you up," he explained, disgustingly chipper. "We're going on a trip."

"Hmmm? Wake up? What time is it?"

He glanced out the window. "Dawn."

"Funny, I didn't hear it crack," she grumbled, burying her face deeper into her pillow.

"Well, you were ... preoccupied." He chuckled, sliding out of bed and straightening his clothes. "Come on, get up! We've got places to go, things to do!"

"Go?" Genna rolled to her back and looked at him with only one eye open. "Go where?"

"Up to the Berkshires," he said as if she should have known. "An old friend of mine has a farm up there. We're going to spend the day."

She sat up, watching him dig through her dresser drawers for clothes. He tossed her a black lace bra, a pair of plum tap pants, and two mismatched socks. "When did you decide this?"

"A couple of hours ago." He lifted a cream satin negligee out of a drawer by one strap and raised an eyebrow. "It's all set up. I called him."

Genna glanced at the clock. It wasn't quite six. "And he's still your friend?"

"Don't you own any boots?" he asked, bent over in her closet. Shoes came flying out in all directions.

Genna popped out of bed, hooked a finger through a belt loop on his jeans, and pulled him out of her closet. "I can dress myself, thank you. If I let you pick out my clothes, I'll be on Mr. Blackwell's list, right up there with Cyndi Lauper."

He sat on the bed and watched her as if he thought she might need help.

"Where's Alyssa?" she asked, pulling on a plaid cotton shirt.