don’t you go inside?” he suggested.
Straightening her shoulders, she stared him in the eye. This man was way too arrogant for his own good, she decided. “For one, my air conditioner is not working. It’s hot inside. Two, I want to get the children accustomed to playing out of doors. Since they’ll be putting on an outdoor concert this fall for one of the local elementary schools.”
He snorted with mocking disbelief. “Concert! For the past two hours I haven’t heard one decent note from these kids!”
Her lips compressed to a flat line, she rose to her feet. “Will you kindly lower your voice? I don’t want Albert to hear you.”
“Well, I’ve been hearing him for the past thirty minutes. How much longer is this going to go on?”
Grace took in a long breath and let it out slowly as she tried to compose herself. Of course, anyone who wasn’t used to being around beginning music students, especially violin students, weren’t prepared for the noise, but this man didn’t have to be so rude and insensitive about it all.
“What do you do for a living, Mr. Barrett?”
“I’m a lawyer. What has that got to do with anything?”
It figured, Grace thought. He seemed awfully good at asking personal questions. “Did you go into the courtroom without training?”
He glowered and she quickly answered for him.
“Don’t bother telling me. We both know you had years of it. And even then you weren’t an expert. You had to learn. Just like Albert and the rest of my students. And if you do happen to stick around until this fall, I’ll show you what I mean.”
He’d angered her, Jack realized. Her breasts were heaving up and down in short spurts. The color along her angled cheekbones had deepened to the shade of rich wine. Sparks lit her green eyes and the odd thought struck Jack that he wished he were as alive as this woman standing in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt as much passion as he saw on her face.
“I’m sure I won’t be here this fall, Miss Holliday. Like I told you earlier, I’m only staying…a few days.”
She studied him keenly, making Jack wonder what she saw when she looked at him. An old man? A pesky neighbor? Or was she looking at him in a more personal way?
Hell, Jack, since when did you ever care how a woman looked at you.
Not since his wife, and she’d divorced him years ago.
“What about your family? Are they not staying here with you, too?” she asked.
“No. I don’t have a family.”
“Oh.” The news left Grace feeling strangely warm and disturbed. At his age she’d expected him to have a family. If not with him, then tucked safely away somewhere. Now that she knew he didn’t have a wife or children, she felt even more threatened by his powerful presence. “I’m sorry,” she added.
He stopped short of releasing a mocking laugh. “Sorry? Look, this is the way I want to be. Free. Single. I’m as happy as a hog in a watermelon patch.”
From the looks of him, he’d never been that happy in his life, Grace thought. But then, the haggard lines on his face could be mostly from fatigue. Or anger at her for disturbing his peace and quiet.
“Miss Holliday, it’s seven-thirty. My mom is going to be waiting out front.”
Giving herself a mental shake, Grace glanced away from the man to see Albert climbing down from the step-chair where he’d been practicing his violin.
“Excuse me,” she said to Jack. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Jack started to tell her it was time for him to go, too. But he stopped himself short. He’d wanted an opportunity to talk to her. Now that she’d given him one, it would be foolish to pass it up.
Jack listened while she gave Albert instructions on what to practice through the coming week. Eventually the boy’s sheet music and instrument were packed away and with a gentle smile, she led him by the hand out of the backyard.
As Jack watched, he had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that she seemed good with children. Though he’d never had any kids himself, he could easily remember back to when he’d been Albert’s age. Francine, his mother, had been loud and high strung with hardly any time for her son or daughter. She’d never smiled or touched him with the tenderness Grace has just shown Albert. She’d liked her cocktails and the social life that went with being the wife of a highly successful corporate lawyer. She’d seen that Jack and Jillian had the material things they’d needed, but had never given either of them any emotional nurturing.
Francine, having divorced their father shortly before he’d died of a heart attack, had quickly married a wealthy financier on the west coast. Jillian still shed tears when she recalled how their mother had treated them through the years. As for Jack, he didn’t give a damn if he ever saw the woman again.
Pushing the dark thought aside, Jack hitched up his trousers and took a seat on one of the lawn chairs to wait for Grace’s return.
Five minutes passed with no sign of Grace. Jack was getting more than a little restless, wishing he’d held his temper and tongue. He knew from long experience that badgering a person who held information he wanted was not the way to go about business. Honey always caught more flies than vinegar. Trouble was, Jack had almost forgotten how to sweeten his words and still manage to sound sincere. He’d used to be damned good at it, but then, he’d used to want to be a lawyer, too.
“Sorry I was gone so long. But Albert’s mother likes to talk.”
He glanced up to see Grace walking toward him. Quickly he rose to his feet. “Look, Miss Holliday, this whole thing with your students…let’s just forget it. If you’ll be kind enough to let me know when they’ll be around, I’ll try to be gone. That way neither of us will be bothered.”
She searched his face, trying to decide if his olive branch was real. She must have decided he’d passed the test, because after a moment she smiled.
Her teeth were very white against her creamy skin and red lips. A faint dimple dented one of her cheeks and for the first time he noticed there was a tiny freckle just above the top line of her lip. She was perfectly beautiful. If Trent had been involved with her, Jack could certainly see why. Attraction was stirring deep in his gut, making him wonder if he’d gone suddenly crazy. She was pregnant and a good fifteen years or more his junior!
“Please, call me Grace,” she invited. “You’re not one of my violin pupils.”
Clearing his throat, he said, “All right, Grace.”
That he’d conceded to call her by her first name seemed to please her. Her green eyes softened and her lips continued to tilt upward in a provocative smile. “Would you like something to drink. Iced tea? Coffee?”
At the moment he could have used a good shot of Kentucky bourbon, but she didn’t look to be the drinking sort. Actually, if it wasn’t for her pregnant condition, she’d be the perfect sheltered Southern miss.
“It’s hot inside the house,” she went on before he could answer.
