"Listen to me. Jennifer. The streets are no place to be on your own. They’re tough and they kill. You’ll never make it out there. It would be like an orchid trying to survive in the Antarctic."
"You’re wrong," she protested stubbornly. "I’m used to taking care of myself."
"And you’ve been doing such a good job of it too."
She glared at him. "So far."
Even though it exasperated him, he had to admire her courage. Everything seemed stacked against her, but she wasn’t about to crumble. Her bravery was badly misplaced, though. It wasn’t making it easy for him to help her, and if he couldn’t get her to tell him the truth, it was going to kill her.
He shoved his fingers through his sandy-colored hair. "Dammit, Jennifer, I’ve never known a woman as infuriating as you, and, believe me, I’ve known some infuriating women in my time."
Jennifer tried not to care about the women in Jerome’s life and instead attempted to reapply herself to her bacon and eggs, knowing that this might be her last meal for a while. It was useless, though. The food wouldn’t go down. It just seemed to stick in her throat. Pushing the food around on the plate, she pondered her situation. It would be infinitely easier for her if she just told him. She hated lying to him. But uppermost in her mind was the need to protect him—if he would just let her.
"You need a plan, Jennifer."
She laid down her fork and met his eyes. His expression had turned brooding. "Look, this is my problem, not yours."
"Okay." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "What are you going to do? For Instance, how are you going to live?"
"I can get a temporary job."
"And what are you qualified to do?"
"Office work. I’m a very good secretary."
"Is that what you did before you met Richard?"
She hesitated and hoped he wouldn’t notice. "Yes."
He did notice, she could tell by his expression, but he said, "And how long do you think it will be before he tracks you down?"
"I don’t know. There’s a chance they won’t find me."
"A chance." He snorted. "Don’t you think it would be better to confront Richard and get things settled once and for all?"
"No!" Her face lost color. "Oh, God!" She lowered her head to her hands. "I don’t know."
"Jennifer." He reached across the table to grasp one of her hands so that she had to look at him. "I’m a lawyer, a damned good one. Let me handle this for you. I’ll institute divorce proceedings for you, and I’m willing to bet that Richard won’t contest. He’ll be too afraid of what you might tell in court."
Jerking her hand back, Jennifer rose and walked to the window. She wrapped her arms around herself. What was she going to do about Jerome? Behind those smoldering blue eyes of his, there was high intelligence, real competence, and a strange sort of sympathy. Surprisingly she wanted to trust him. Yet she couldn’t help but worry, not only about the danger she was in, but the danger she could be placing him in too.
She felt cold. She had felt cold ever since that moment two, almost three days ago when she had run out of the apartment where she and Richard had been living. Sensing Jerome’s penetrating gaze on her, she turned and tried one more time. "I can walk out your door and it will be as if I were never here. You can get on with your life and I can get on with mine."
His answer was stony silence.
In despair, she began to chew on her thumbnail. He just wasn’t going to let her protect him!
"You’re cold, aren’t you?" Jerome asked quietly, still sitting at the table. "Look, let’s take this one step at a time. I think the first order of business should be buying you some clothes."
"I can’t let you buy me clothes!" Jennifer protested, horrified.
He eyed her consideringly. "Most women love it when a man offers to buy them clothes."
"I’m not most women!"
"I think I said something of the sort just a short while ago." He tossed his napkin on the table and got to his feet. Up to
"You’re wrong," she protested stubbornly. "I’m used to taking care of myself."
"And you’ve been doing such a good job of it too."
She glared at him. "So far."
Even though it exasperated him, he had to admire her courage. Everything seemed stacked against her, but she wasn’t about to crumble. Her bravery was badly misplaced, though. It wasn’t making it easy for him to help her, and if he couldn’t get her to tell him the truth, it was going to kill her.
He shoved his fingers through his sandy-colored hair. "Dammit, Jennifer, I’ve never known a woman as infuriating as you, and, believe me, I’ve known some infuriating women in my time."
Jennifer tried not to care about the women in Jerome’s life and instead attempted to reapply herself to her bacon and eggs, knowing that this might be her last meal for a while. It was useless, though. The food wouldn’t go down. It just seemed to stick in her throat. Pushing the food around on the plate, she pondered her situation. It would be infinitely easier for her if she just told him. She hated lying to him. But uppermost in her mind was the need to protect him—if he would just let her.
"You need a plan, Jennifer."
She laid down her fork and met his eyes. His expression had turned brooding. "Look, this is my problem, not yours."
"Okay." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "What are you going to do? For Instance, how are you going to live?"
"I can get a temporary job."
"And what are you qualified to do?"
"Office work. I’m a very good secretary."
"Is that what you did before you met Richard?"
She hesitated and hoped he wouldn’t notice. "Yes."
He did notice, she could tell by his expression, but he said, "And how long do you think it will be before he tracks you down?"
"I don’t know. There’s a chance they won’t find me."
"A chance." He snorted. "Don’t you think it would be better to confront Richard and get things settled once and for all?"
"No!" Her face lost color. "Oh, God!" She lowered her head to her hands. "I don’t know."
"Jennifer." He reached across the table to grasp one of her hands so that she had to look at him. "I’m a lawyer, a damned good one. Let me handle this for you. I’ll institute divorce proceedings for you, and I’m willing to bet that Richard won’t contest. He’ll be too afraid of what you might tell in court."
Jerking her hand back, Jennifer rose and walked to the window. She wrapped her arms around herself. What was she going to do about Jerome? Behind those smoldering blue eyes of his, there was high intelligence, real competence, and a strange sort of sympathy. Surprisingly she wanted to trust him. Yet she couldn’t help but worry, not only about the danger she was in, but the danger she could be placing him in too.
She felt cold. She had felt cold ever since that moment two, almost three days ago when she had run out of the apartment where she and Richard had been living. Sensing Jerome’s penetrating gaze on her, she turned and tried one more time. "I can walk out your door and it will be as if I were never here. You can get on with your life and I can get on with mine."
His answer was stony silence.
In despair, she began to chew on her thumbnail. He just wasn’t going to let her protect him!
"You’re cold, aren’t you?" Jerome asked quietly, still sitting at the table. "Look, let’s take this one step at a time. I think the first order of business should be buying you some clothes."
"I can’t let you buy me clothes!" Jennifer protested, horrified.
He eyed her consideringly. "Most women love it when a man offers to buy them clothes."
"I’m not most women!"
"I think I said something of the sort just a short while ago." He tossed his napkin on the table and got to his feet. Up to
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