Nobody's Baby but Mine(24)

Tucker smiled at her. “Did anybody ever tell you that you talk funny? Like you should be narrating wildlife films on public television.”

“Or be somebody’s damn butler,” Cal muttered. His pale eyes raked her. “What are you doing here?”

Tucker crossed his arms and leaned back against the doorjamb to watch. Jane had no idea what had transpired between these two men, but she knew they weren’t friends.

“She came here to give you spiritual advice on dealing with the problems of old age, Calvin.”

A small muscle twitched at the corner of Cal’s jaw. “Don’t you have some training films to watch, Tucker?”

“Nope. I already know everything God does about the Colts’ defense.”

“Is that so?” He regarded him with those seasoned campaigner’s eyes. “Did you happen to notice their safety signals whenever they’re about to blitz?”

Tucker stiffened.

“I didn’t think so. Go do your homework, kid. That golden arm of yours ain’t worth a damn ’til you learn how to read a defense.”

Jane wasn’t entirely certain what they were talking about, but she understood that Cal had somehow put Kevin in his place.

Tucker pulled away from the doorjamb and winked at Jane. “You’d better not stay too long. Old guys like Calvin need their beauty sleep. Now you feel free to stop by my room when you’re done. I’m sure he won’t have worn you out.”

Although the young man’s gall was amusing, he still needed to be put in his place. “Do you require spiritual advice, Mr. Tucker?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Then I’ll pray for you.”

He laughed and took off down the hall, all youthful strut and blatant disrespect. She smiled in spite of herself.

“Why don’t you go right along with him, Rosebud, since you think he’s so damn funny?”

She turned her attention back to Cal. “Were you that cocky when you were young?”

“I wish everybody’d quit talkin’ about me like I’ve got one foot in the damn grave!”

Two women rounded the corner and came to a stop as they caught sight of him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. “Get in here.”

As he shut the door behind her, she glanced around the room. The pillows were bunched up against the headboard of the king-size bed, and the spread was rumpled. Static flickered on the silent screen of the television.

“What are you doin’ in Indianapolis?”

She swallowed. “I think you know the answer to that.” With a boldness she couldn’t believe she possessed, she slid the palm of her hand down over the light switch by the door.

The room plunged into a darkness that was relieved only by the flickering silver light from the television screen.

“You don’t believe in messin’ around, do you, Rosebud?”

Her courage was rapidly flagging. This second time was going to be even more difficult than the first. She dropped her purse to the floor. “What’s the point? We both know where this is headed.”

With a thudding heart, she looped her fingers over the waistband of his slacks and pulled him toward her. As his hips pressed against hers, she felt him grow hard, and it was as if every cell in her body came alive.

For someone who had always been timid with the opposite sex, playing the femme fatale was a powerful experience. She sank her fingers into his buttocks and pressed her breasts to his chest. Running her hands up along his sides, she curled her body against him, moving seductively.

But her sense of power was short-lived. He pinioned her to the wall and caught her chin in a rough grasp. “Is there a Mr. Rosebud?”

“No.”

His grip tightened. “Don’t mess with me, lady. I want the truth.”

She met his eyes without flinching. In this, at least, she didn’t have to lie. “I’m not married. I swear.”

He must have believed her because he released her chin. Before he could question her further, she pushed her hands between them and released the snap on his slacks.

As she struggled with the zipper, she felt his hands on the bodice of her jacket. She opened her mouth to protest just as he pulled it apart.

“No!” She snatched at the gaping silk, ripping a seam in the process as she covered herself.

He immediately stepped away from her. “Get out of here.”

She clutched the jacket together. He looked furious, and she knew she’d made a mistake, but the only way she could keep this from becoming unbearably sordid was to preserve her modesty.

She forced herself to smile. “It’s more exciting this way. Please don’t spoil it.”

“You’re making me feel like a rapist, and I don’t like it. You’re the one who’s after me, lady.”