Trouble in High Heels by Leanne Banks Page A

on your own. That’s all understandable, but it’s better to have had someone terrific in your life even if you lose them.”
    Surprised at his expression of sympathy, she held his gaze and felt a wave of deep understanding flow between them. “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”
    “Something like that,” he said and cracked a smile. “In your case, better to have been loved and lost than never to have been loved at all.”
    His sympathy touched her. She leaned toward him and brushed her lips over his cheek. “Thanks.”
    “For what?” he asked, looking surprised.
    “For being nice,” she said with a shrug.
    His lips twitched, and he turned back to the steering wheel and put the car in gear. “Don’t get used to it,” he said in a gruff voice.
    She wondered what experience had made him adopt his philosophy. She wondered what his family life had been like. “You know, we haven’t talked much about your family,” she ventured.
    “That’s right. And there’s no need to change that now.”
    “It’s not fair that you know almost everything about me and I know nothing about you.”
    “You know enough. You know I’m your accountant and you can trust me not to give in to your wiles to get more money and you can trust me to find a temporary husband to meet your specifications. You can trust me to look out for your best interests, because your best interests are my best interests.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “It’s still not fair.”
    “Fair enough,” he said firmly and pulled to a stop in a graveled parking lot close to the main ranch house.
    “What’s your mother like?”
    “She’s a hard worker. Always has been. Always had to be.” He muttered the last part under his breath.
    “And your father?”
    His eyes narrowed, and she saw a dozen emotions come and go in his gaze. “Undependable. Sometimes there, but usually not. Sometimes working, but usually not. It would have been easier if he hadn’t been around at all. Then my mother and brother wouldn’t hope he would come through when he didn’t.”
    “Oh,” she said, at a loss.
    “Yeah,
oh,
” he echoed, meeting her gaze. His facial features were neutral, but the way his hands clenched the steering wheel revealed his anger. “Aren’t you glad you asked?”
    “Yes and no,” she said, knowing she was treading on eggshells. “Yes, because it makes me understand you a little better. No, because the subject is obviously a painful one for you.”
    “Painful,” he mocked. “You have to give a damn in order to feel pain. I don’t.”
    It might have been wiser to let it go at that. There was really no need to disagree with him, but Lori had glimpsed his honesty. She skimmed her fingers down his arm to his still-clenched fingers on the steering wheel. “I think I feel some
damn
right about here,” she said gently, rubbing the tense tendons in his right hand.
    His eyes darkened with an emotion that made her feel a little nervous. She almost retracted her hand and her statement, but she had the odd sensation of playing truth or dare, and if she didn’t take the dare, then he would never respect her. She would Super Glue her lips together before she confessed, but she wanted Jackson ’s respect in a big way.
    His right jaw twitched once, twice, and he narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to sustain the anger but was having a tough time. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I’ve never heard anyone suggest that my hands had some damn in them,” he said.
    “Well, they do. Look at them,” she said, but his hands were relaxed now. “Okay, well, they
did
have some damn in them.”
    “Sure you didn’t imagine it?”
    She dropped her jaw in surprise. “Absolutely not, and you know it. Your hands were-” She broke off when she saw the beginning of a chuckle. He was teasing her. She punched his bicep.
    “Ouch!”
    “Oh, right,” she said. “Like you barely even felt that. You think you’re so