Jack stepped onto the path to his door and stopped. Sienna
stood beneath the porch light, her hair a burnished mantle
flowing over her shoulders. Her feet were bare. Her shoes
and purse dangled from her fingertips. In the space of a
few hours she'd come all undone. It was a sexy look.
Friendship was a beautiful thing but he felt a stab of
regret for the possibilities he was denying himself.
"The taxi's on its way," she said as he climbed the steps
to her side. She shifted her shoes to her other hand.
Glanced up and down the street. She was back to being
nervous. "It's still warm."
Jack leaned against the pillar supporting the veranda
roof. "I'm glad you were able to come tonight after all."
She glanced at her watch. "I wonder where that taxi is."
"It's only a little after 12."
"Oliver didn't know I was going out. I left a note but I've
never been gone when he's come home before." As if
realizing what this told him about her social life, she
shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin. "I don't get out
much since my divorce."
"Was it messy?" he asked, sympathetic.
"No more than most, I suppose." Her mouth tightened as she
glanced away. "Anthony and I talk. Oliver keeps us
amicable."
Why did he get the impression that despite her casual
manner, she was hurting inside? "Are you sure you wouldn't
like to join us for golf tomorrow?"
"I'd only slow you down. I'm guessing you're pretty good
with all the free time you have to spend on sports." She
flushed and tugged on a strand of coiled hair. "Sorry. I
didn't mean that as a dig."
Maybe not consciously, Jack thought, but he decided not to
take offense. Instead, he said mildly, "We don't play
competitively. Renita's not much more than a novice."
"Thanks but it's the one day of the week I can spend time
with Oliver." Sienna's gaze flicked to his clearly
expensive house and back to him. "You really don't work at
anything?"
"Life's short," he said flippantly. "I live for pleasure."
Suspicion clouded her eyes. "Then how do you get money?"
"I'm not a drug dealer. Nothing illegal is going on."
"But you must have worked at some time in the past."
"The past is a foreign country. I lost my passport."
"Mr. Mysterious, eh?" She leaned on the porch railing,
studying him. "Are you really content with just hobbies?"
He sensed she wanted to like him. He wasn't being
egotistical to think that. And he was attracted to her. Yet
it was clear she couldn't help judging him. Self-indulgent.
Lazy. Hedonistic. He could almost hear the pronouncements
flowing through her mind. Those qualities weren't what she,
a doctor, stood for.
"I'm not a bad person," he said, attempting to make a joke
of it. "In fact, you and I operate by the same code--
'First, do no harm.'"
"You don't do harm by having a job."
"I had a job once. I ran a light aircraft charter. I was a
pilot. I also built and repaired engines and navigational
systems." He gave a twisted smile. "A 'Jack' of all trades,
you could say."
"That sounds amazing," she said. "Why did you stop?"
He shrugged. "I got tired of it."
"Really?" she said, dubious. "Will you ever go back to it?"
"No. Never." It had been a great job, one he loved. But
he'd screwed up big time. Leanne had paid the price. "Look,
it's best not to have expectations of me. I don't like to
disappoint."
"Are you warning me off?" Sienna asked.
"No, that's not it. Not exactly."
"It's okay." Her glance went past his shoulder. "There's
the taxi." She bent to slip her shoes back on. From
somewhere she found a hair tie and tamed the mass of auburn
curls into a ponytail.
"Thanks so much for a wonderful evening, Jack. The food was
marvelous. Your friends are lovely." She was smiling as she
circled around him, one foot on the next step down. "I
really enjoyed myself."
"Come again, anytime."
"Love to." Her tone was light.
The taxi's headlights were behind her so he couldn't see if
her expression. Did she mean it, or were her cool gray
green eyes sending another message entirely?
In a way he supposed he had been warning her off. He'd
built a comfortable life, one he could live with. His
friends understood him--well, as much as anyone could
understand someone who didn't spill his guts at the drop of
a hat--and enjoyed him for who he was.
The problem with women was, they always thought they could
change you. He was quite happy being himself, thank you
very much. He didn't want anyone, not even a red-headed
Venus de Milo, rocking his carefully balanced boat.
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