“Control!” she said as she pushed away from the wall. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, then went through a bedroom to get to the stairs.
At the bottom were two beautiful old doors. One was locked, but the other one led into the living room. The ceiling was fairly low, with great overhead beams that spoke of the age of the house and added to the calm, peaceful feeling of it. A wide, deep fireplace was along the wall, with pretty windows on the far side. The couch and two big chairs were soft and comfortable looking. They had been moved to the far end to make space for a narrow bed and a desk.
As Hallie looked at the bed, she wondered how a man with shoulders like his could sleep on it. Did his feet and arms hang over the sides? The thought almost made her giggle.
On impulse, she went to the desk. It was old and scarred from many years of use. On top of it were a few neatly stacked paperbacks—murder mysteries written by men—and a big leather date book with a matching pencil holder.
Hallie sat down on the little wooden chair, and after a quick glance about the empty room to make sure she was alone, she opened the date book.
What she saw made her gasp. Inside were large, glossy photographs of Shelly. On top was one of those professional-looking head shots. Shelly just out of the shower was beautiful, but fully made up, her hair swept to one side, a seductive little smile on her perfect lips, she was a stunner.
Beneath that were composites of other shots. There was Shelly riding in a convertible, her hair tousled, her face turned up to the sun. It looked as though it had been taken on a movie set. Another one was of Shelly in a red silk blouse, open to show her black bra, on what looked like a stage. There was a photo of her holding a bar of soap to her cheek. An ad, maybe?
The last picture was a full-length shot of Shelly in a bikini. All five feet eleven of her, not an ounce of fat anywhere, long blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, and looking like the all-American girl. Every man’s dream.
Hallie leaned back in the chair, feeling like she’d just deflated.
In all the turmoil of what was turning into a very long day, it hadn’t registered with her when Jared said that Shelly had exchanged emails with the prospective client. But then Hallie’s mind had been reeling from the news that her stepsister had faked her passport and tried to steal a house.
Hallie held up the bikini shot. She’d never been able to understand how Shelly and her mother could live on a diet of greasy burgers, fries, and cola and never gain weight. After they’d come into her life, Hallie went from her grandparents’ fresh vegetable diet to endless carry-out and she’d begun to pack on the pounds. In school, playing soccer had kept most of the weight off, but after her father and stepmother died, Hallie’d had the job of supporting Shelly. She didn’t have time to cook. It had been work and nothing else. Coming home late at night and eating Big Macs and drinking big colas had left her with an extra twenty-five pounds. Add that to the fact that she was only five foot four and…
She didn’t want to think of a physical comparison between her and Shelly. She’d lived with it for too many years. “Both of these girls are your daughters?” people would ask her father. Tall, willowy Shelly and short, childishly round Hallie the product of the same parents? Not possible!
One time Ruby had answered the question by saying, “But Hallie is real smart.”
Hallie knew Ruby had meant
well, but it still hurt. In her family, Hallie was the smart, responsible one who always did the sane, sensible thing, while Shelly was the pretty one who always screwed up and was always forgiven. “Hallie, you need to help Shelly” was something she’d heard on a daily basis.
Hallie stood up and carefully put the photos back inside the book. That’s what she got for snooping!
She put the chair back under the desk and went into the kitchen—and the charm of it helped to clear her mind. How her grandparents would have loved the old-fashioned appearance of it! The sink was huge, as were the gas stove and the refrigerator. In the center was a square table that looked as old as the house, and it was in front of yet another fireplace.
Two of the doors leading out of the kitchen were locked, but a third one led to a pretty little glassed-in porch that was full of white wicker with pink and green cushions. There was a piece of white linen in an embroidery hoop and she picked it up. It had a design of two birds and half of it had been beautifully sewn. She wondered if the late Henry Bell had done it.
When she heard the click of a door, then two male voices, she froze in place. One was Jared’s and the other was a deep, rich rumble that made Hallie’s breath catch in her throat.
Damnation! she thought. This guy is expecting Shelly and he’s going to be deeply disappointed. Have some sympathy for him.
“Hallie?” Jared called. “Are you here?”
With her shoulders back, she walked into the kitchen and saw him. Heaven help her, but he was even better looking close up. Worse, there seemed to be an energy around him that was like some powerful magnet pulling her to him. Part of her wanted to leap the distance between them and lose herself inside his big, strong arms.
But years of practice at hiding her true feelings kept Hallie glued in place, her expression pleasant but neutral.
“This is—” Jared began, but Jamie cut him off.
“You’re Hallie?” Jamie asked, his eyes wide. “But you’re not—” He broke off to look her up and down in a way that every woman hopes some gorgeous man will look at her. Not in that lecherous way that can make a woman feel exposed and vulnerable, but in a way that made her feel beautiful and so very, very desirable.
Jamie grasped the side of the sink, as though if he didn’t support himself he’d fall down. “I thought someone else was coming, but you…You’re…” He didn’t seem able to say any more. When he leaned against the cabinet, his crutches fell backward, and Jared caught them.
Hallie straightened her shoulders. It looked like to him, one female was as good as another. If he couldn’t have the divine Shelly, he’d take this one.
But Hallie’d had too many years of guys trying to get near her so they could be close to Shelly. All she knew for sure was that this had to stop now!
She took a step toward him and when he smiled broader, she frowned deeply. “Look, Mr. Taggert—at least I assume that’s who you are—I don’t know what you’re thinking about me, but it’s wrong. You’re here in my house so I can help you recover and that’s all. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said softly, his eyes widening even farther.