Free Sentimental Journey by Janet Dailey Page A

him.
    "When I make our dinner reservations, maybe I should reserve us a sleeping car." His sideways glance inspected her face.
    Jessica felt it grow warm. "No, thank you."
    "Does the thought of making love embarrass you?" Again his candor unnerved her. "Or isn't it proper for women of breeding to discuss such things?"
    She didn't want to answer either question. She was on treacherous footing. The sooner she reached solid ground, the better off she would be.
    "It must be time for me to get back to the office," she offered desperately.
    Brodie glanced at his watch and mocked, "So it is. Always the conscientious employee, aren't you?"
    "I earn my salary." She refused to sound righteous.
    They turned and started back for the parking lot. "And do you work Saturdays, as well?"
    "No, the office is closed on Saturdays." Her steps quickened.
    "That doesn't mean you don't work. Officially, the office may be closed, but there still may be work to do," he reasoned.
    "So far I haven't had to work on Saturday," was the only answer Jessica could give.
    "What do you do, then? Play tennis? Golf? Swim?"
    "It depends."
    "What will you be doing this Saturday?" Brodie asked.
    "I don't have anything special planned." Immediately Jessica realized she had fallen into another one of his traps.
    "In that case, we can plan something together," he decided.
    "If you have in mind that sleeping car…" she began with rising indignation.
    "Actually what I had in mind is a tour of some of Chattanooga's attractions. A day spent sight-seeing. Is that innocent enough for you?" A wicked light glinted in his eyes.
    "I suppose so…" Again it was an invitation that left her without grounds to refuse. Part of her didn't want to refuse, either.
    "Good. I'll pick you up at your apartment at ten Saturday morning." It was all settled.
     

 
    Chapter Six
     
    SATURDAY MORNING was flooded with sunshine, There wasn't a cloud in the crystal-blue sky as it formed a contrasting backdrop to the spring green of the land. The white flowers of the dogwood blossomed in the hills. The air was filled with mating calls from the trilling song of birds to the chattering cries of squirrels.
    Jessica stood on the narrow balcony of her apartment to watch and listen. A loose-fitting silk blouse of olive green, its color a shade darker than her eyes, was belted at the waist over a pair of white Levis. A long, chunky chain of gold hung around her neck.
    It was a warm, coatless day, certainly not the kind of day one wanted to spend indoors. But of course she wasn't. Jessica glanced at the gold watch on her wrist; one minute before ten. As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
    Her heart gave a sudden leap of excitement and she paused until it had resumed its normal rate. It was essential to keep both feet on the ground today. It would never do to be carried away by spring fever, a malady she was susceptible to.
    The doorbell rang a second time as she turned the knob and opened the door wide. Her heart became lodged in her throat at the sight of Brodie, despite her effort to keep it firmly in its place. He seemed so potently male standing there.
    A white shirt stretched across his wide shoulders to taper to his waist, the long sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, the top three buttons unfastened. A pair of brushed denims hugged his hips and emphasized the long length of his legs. But it was the impression of so much tanned, hard flesh that was causing the most havoc with her senses.
    "Hello." His greeting had a velvet quality to it. "This is for you—a rose for a Thorne, if you'll forgive an overworked sentiment."
    Until Brodie offered it to her, Jessica hadn't noticed the single red rose in his hand. Her fingers curled around the stem to take it from him, the carnelian red petals in full bloom.
    "It's beautiful," she murmured inadequately. "Thank you."
    "Are you ready?"
    "Yes. Just give me a moment to put this in a vase."
    She hurried into the kitchen, took a bud vase from the cupboard, and