Something About Joe by Kandy Shepherd Page B

pounding a million miles an hour, her knees so
shaky she could scarcely stand. “Joe!” She managed to force out his
name.
    But he didn’t turn around. “We’d better get
a move on or you’ll be late back to work,” he said, the only sign
anything out of the ordinary had happened was an even deeper tone
to his husky voice.
    Disjointed thoughts spun in Allison’s head
wiping out the bank, her parents-in-law, Peter.
    For that
crazy, inexplicable moment she’d wanted to kiss Joe Martin back
with hungry passion. Wanted it badly. Wanted it so badly she nearly
forgot she was a city banker five years older than him—and that he
was her child’s nanny.
     
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    All next day, Allison couldn’t
stop thinking about the kiss. Blissful memories of Joe’s mouth on
hers, her hands in his, flitted in and out of her mind, even when
she was nailing down the final numbers of a deal worth multiple
millions. He had wanted her as much as she’d wanted him. She was
sure of that. But he’d ended the kiss so abruptly, said nothing
about it afterward, and she could hardly call him on it. There’d
been no opportunity since to explore what had happened. Or to
repeat it.
    Now she
found herself anxiously fixing her makeup in the mirror of her car
before she locked it and headed into the house. All she was doing,
she convinced herself, was repairing the ravages of a frantic day
at the office. An even more frantic day than usual, with the deal
finally struck with the Hong Kong bankers. She paused, the lipstick
halfway to her mouth. Who was she kidding? Mitchell was hardly
likely to notice the state of Mommy’s makeup.
    But was Joe?
    She hesitated for a long moment, then
carefully slicked on her lipstick. She smoothed back her hair.
Considered it, then decided another spray of perfume would be going
over the top.
    An
involuntary little shiver of excitement ran down her spine as she
remembered a piece of advice she’d read in a magazine—apply your
perfume wherever you expected to be kissed.
    She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
She had kissing on the brain. And she’d better forget it if she was
going to act in a coherent, sensible manner when she saw Joe.
    She could
hear music playing in the house as she climbed the three steps to
her front veranda, and she found herself jangling her keys in time
to it. She wasn’t familiar with this particular kid’s song. It was
a catchy one. Joe must have chosen it from among the CDs she’d
recently bought Mitchell and hadn’t had time to play.
    She liked
it. It reflected her happy mood. Happy in anticipation of seeing
Mitchell. Happy in anticipation of seeing Joe again. Happy in
anticipation of the possibility of kissing Joe again. And exultant
that the deal with the visiting bankers had gone through. Maybe,
just maybe, things were beginning to go her way.
    When she
pushed open the door she saw Joe wasn’t playing a CD. He was
singing and playing guitar, his black-booted foot banging out the
rhythm on her carpet. Neither he nor Mitchell had heard
her.
    Mitchell was dancing; an adorable, unsteady
toddler’s dance, dissolving into delightful peals of laughter as he
acted out the motions Joe was directing in the rocking, rhythmic
song about a dancing teddy bear.
    Her son
looked so cute as he wobbled and wavered on his chubby little legs,
her heart nearly burst with love.
    Her heart
had an altogether different reaction to Joe. His dark head leaned
intently over his guitar as his long, tanned fingers coaxed magic
from its strings. Some of his hair had worked away from the leather
string that held it back and it curled wildly around his
face.
    The men in her life had had conservative
short back and sides—to go with their suits. How could she possibly
find long hair attractive on a man?
    But she did. Oh yes, she did.
    There wasn’t anything about Joe she didn’t
find attractive. Even the earring was growing on her.
    His voice was the ultimate turn on. That
husky, gravelly voice