Free Stolen Kisses by Sally Falcon Page B

while in Washington. Finally, as they put down their plates, they both gave credit to the chef.
    “Let me get dessert, and you can show me what you’ve been doing while I was out of town.” In one swift movement, Trevor was on his feet. He retrieved her tote bag and placed it by her side before collecting the dirty dishes.
    Jessie slowly wiped her hands on her napkin, glad for something to do while he hovered over her. For the past half hour she’d forgotten about why she was there and how it had been arranged. She couldn’t let her guard down again. A charming smile and amusing conversation were the first steps to heartache, she lectured herself. Grabbing her tote bag as if it was a life line, she began to pull out her sketches and material samples.
    “Say, you’ve been busy,” Trevor said easily, placing a tempting confection of emerald green and white in front of her. “Just let me get the rest of this out of the way, and you’ll have my undivided attention.”
    “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Jessie murmured, staring at the parfait glass without really seeing it. She didn’t know if she was going to be able to take another bite. Her palms were beginning to sweat and her pulse rate was rapidly increasing. She remembered the feeling from her first presentation in college, when her mind had gone totally blank. This time she wasn’t nervous about what she had created, but about her audience.
    “Okay, now let’s see what you have in mind.”
    Jessie swallowed deeply as Trevor sprawled on the floor beside her, propping himself up on his elbow just inches from her knees. Until now he had kept his distance on the other side of the tablecloth, remaining impersonal throughout dinner as promised. With him so close, she knew that she was going to do something foolish. So she opened her mouth and began to talk about colors, textures, and contrast, anything to keep from watching Trevor as he spooned the creamy parfait into his mouth.
    “No, no royal blue. I had to sleep under a velvet-blue canopy when I was growing up, and I don’t ever want to do it again,” he said decisively a few minutes later.
    Jessie immediately began searching frantically in her bag, with no idea of what she was looking for. The image of him lying in bed had come too quickly to mind, and in her imagination, he hadn’t been a little boy. It really didn’t matter if he slept in the nude or not; her only interest was the bed itself and the color scheme. Was it her imagination or had he moved closer while looking over her sketches?
    “I like the idea of using a combination of styles throughout the house,” Trevor continued, unconscious of Jessie’s dilemma. “Daddy went a little overboard at the old homestead, especially with some of the massive pieces. I do have some good pieces that Aunt Beth left. They aren’t overly ornate, thank heaven. They’re stored in the garage. Let’s see, there’s a sideboard and dining room table as well as a sofa, some chairs, a washstand with all the pitchers. Oh, and two bedsteads. Too bad Tory commandeered all the Duncan Phyfe for her cottage.”
    “How do you feel about a grandfather clock?” Jessie quickly grasped at the first piece of furniture she could think of, one that didn’t go in a bedroom.
    “I thought one would look ideal in the entry hall near the staircase. It would draw the visitors’ eyes to the carvings on the banister and the ceiling plasterwork.”
    “Terrific. Just let me know when you want to go shopping. My only limitation is nothing too heavy or ornate. We don’t have to stay too true to the period. I don’t want to live in a museum.”
    Though the look in his eyes was perfectly innocent, Jessie’s breath caught in her throat for a second. “You want to go shopping with me?”
    “Naturally I want to go along. Why should you have all the fun?” He looked startled that she’d even question his participation. “I’m usually free until early afternoon, so we