This might be dangerous. Isn’t there anyone else who could do it?"
"I’ll do it," Leo said firmly. "Trust me."
"With our lives." Jerome gave a half-laugh.
Leo didn’t laugh at all. But her weather-creased face seemed to alter a fraction, if not exactly soften, it certainly appeared less harsh. "Don’t worry. It’ll be okay." Then the expression vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place, and her voice once more became businesslike. "What else can I do to help? Do you need reservations or a place to stay?"
"No. After Jennifer told me about this place last night, I realized that it’s close to a lake where I’ve done a little fishing. They have a really nice lodge there, plus individual cabins. This time of year there should be no problem renting a room. How long will it take you to set things up?"
"Not long. A couple of hours okay?"
"That’s great. And, Leo, there’s one more thing."
"Yes?"
He handed her a key. "This is to my apartment. Would you mind coming up here a few times a day, turning the lights on and off and such, to make it look as if we’re here and just holed up for the weekend?"
Leo looked at the key in her hand. "You’re giving me the key to your apartment? Are you sure?"
"I’m sure, Leo. You’re Sami’s friend, and therefore, I consider you my friend, or I never would have asked for your help."
Her face showed nothing of what she might be feeling. "I’ll be glad to, Mr. Mailer."
Jerome smiled at her. She was an enigma, but somehow, in some strange way, he knew that he could trust her. He just hoped he wasn’t wrong. His instincts were about all he had going for him at the moment.
#
They had had no trouble renting a two-bedroom cabin situated right on the banks of the lake, and as Jerome studied the sitting room, he decided that it would suit them just fine. Both charming and cozy, it was also fairly isolated from the lodge and the other cabins.
He cast his gaze toward the bedroom Jennifer had chosen. She was in there unpacking. For no reason in particular he strolled toward the room and looked in. She was placing a champagne-colored lace teddy into a drawer. He forced his eyes away from her to take in the rest of the room. The whole cabin, including this bedroom, was furnished in comfortable early American decor. The bed was a four-poster, and the posts rose nearly to the ceiling. At the top a square frame rested, supporting heavy curtain panels in a forest green print. The wide bed was covered with a fluffy comforter in the same print.
Jennifer looked up and saw him. "Hi. I’ll be through in just a minute."
"Take your time." He stared at her for a minute longer, then walked back into the sitting room. Rolling his shoulders, he tried to loosen the knotted ropes of tightness that had been there for days. He felt as if he were a walking time bomb, ready to explode. And to be fair, it wasn’t Jennifer’s fault. No, the fault lay in his reaction to Jennifer. The way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she moved about his apartment—it all excited him beyond belief. His desire for her throbbed through his body constantly, even when he wasn’t with her.
He was a man who had gone through his adult life deliberately avoiding romantic complications and serious involvements. Yet only a few days ago, one very beautiful and mysterious lady had walked into his life, and with every hour that passed he had become more and more deeply involved with her.
Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he turned toward the wide window and the vista beyond. Secluded, peaceful, beautiful. And he was here with Jennifer.
So what was he fighting against? Not her, never her. Himself? Probably. But dammit! Why shouldn’t he allow himself to relax this one time?
Here, in this scenic, tranquil place, they were in no danger. As far as he knew, they had managed to get out of St. Paul completely undetected. And, most of all, there were no more problems facing them. Only
"I’ll do it," Leo said firmly. "Trust me."
"With our lives." Jerome gave a half-laugh.
Leo didn’t laugh at all. But her weather-creased face seemed to alter a fraction, if not exactly soften, it certainly appeared less harsh. "Don’t worry. It’ll be okay." Then the expression vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place, and her voice once more became businesslike. "What else can I do to help? Do you need reservations or a place to stay?"
"No. After Jennifer told me about this place last night, I realized that it’s close to a lake where I’ve done a little fishing. They have a really nice lodge there, plus individual cabins. This time of year there should be no problem renting a room. How long will it take you to set things up?"
"Not long. A couple of hours okay?"
"That’s great. And, Leo, there’s one more thing."
"Yes?"
He handed her a key. "This is to my apartment. Would you mind coming up here a few times a day, turning the lights on and off and such, to make it look as if we’re here and just holed up for the weekend?"
Leo looked at the key in her hand. "You’re giving me the key to your apartment? Are you sure?"
"I’m sure, Leo. You’re Sami’s friend, and therefore, I consider you my friend, or I never would have asked for your help."
Her face showed nothing of what she might be feeling. "I’ll be glad to, Mr. Mailer."
Jerome smiled at her. She was an enigma, but somehow, in some strange way, he knew that he could trust her. He just hoped he wasn’t wrong. His instincts were about all he had going for him at the moment.
#
They had had no trouble renting a two-bedroom cabin situated right on the banks of the lake, and as Jerome studied the sitting room, he decided that it would suit them just fine. Both charming and cozy, it was also fairly isolated from the lodge and the other cabins.
He cast his gaze toward the bedroom Jennifer had chosen. She was in there unpacking. For no reason in particular he strolled toward the room and looked in. She was placing a champagne-colored lace teddy into a drawer. He forced his eyes away from her to take in the rest of the room. The whole cabin, including this bedroom, was furnished in comfortable early American decor. The bed was a four-poster, and the posts rose nearly to the ceiling. At the top a square frame rested, supporting heavy curtain panels in a forest green print. The wide bed was covered with a fluffy comforter in the same print.
Jennifer looked up and saw him. "Hi. I’ll be through in just a minute."
"Take your time." He stared at her for a minute longer, then walked back into the sitting room. Rolling his shoulders, he tried to loosen the knotted ropes of tightness that had been there for days. He felt as if he were a walking time bomb, ready to explode. And to be fair, it wasn’t Jennifer’s fault. No, the fault lay in his reaction to Jennifer. The way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she moved about his apartment—it all excited him beyond belief. His desire for her throbbed through his body constantly, even when he wasn’t with her.
He was a man who had gone through his adult life deliberately avoiding romantic complications and serious involvements. Yet only a few days ago, one very beautiful and mysterious lady had walked into his life, and with every hour that passed he had become more and more deeply involved with her.
Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he turned toward the wide window and the vista beyond. Secluded, peaceful, beautiful. And he was here with Jennifer.
So what was he fighting against? Not her, never her. Himself? Probably. But dammit! Why shouldn’t he allow himself to relax this one time?
Here, in this scenic, tranquil place, they were in no danger. As far as he knew, they had managed to get out of St. Paul completely undetected. And, most of all, there were no more problems facing them. Only
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