Through Jenna’s Eyes Page 3

  Her earlier exploration had brought about a physical reaction that he couldn’t ignore. He also couldn’t discard her attitude about her condition, which had been nothing short of amazing. He was having a hard time ignoring her, period.

  Still, he didn’t particularly like that she’d failed to tell the truth about her vision problems and he couldn’t help but wonder what else she might be hiding. He hated deception of any kind, even more so due to his ex-fiancee’s betrayal. But after Jenna had explained her reasons for not telling him the truth, he’d understood her motivation on some level. He didn’t understand why he was so damned attracted to her. Of course, she was a great-looking woman, but that wasn’t all. He admired her need for independence and appreciated her insecurities. She might have been robbed of her sight, but she probably saw a lot more than most people who had twenty-twenty vision. She’d definitely seen more in him than most women, without evening knowing what he looked like.

  And that pretty much answered his question. Throw all those traits into the mix, and you had a remarkable woman wrapped up in a petite package. Regardless, his post-Helena burn had yet to heal, and the last thing he wanted was another female complication. Jenna Fordyce didn’t strike him as a one-night-stand kind of girl, and, lately, that’s all that had interested him. No commitments. No promises. Nothing that even remotely resembled a steady relationship.

  He also didn’t need Jenna hurting herself again, exactly what Logan feared she’d done when a clattering sound filtered through the closed door. He rapped his knuckles on the facing and called, “Are you okay in there?” And if she didn’t answer in two seconds, he was going to break down the door.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I dropped the toothbrush in the sink and knocked over the toothpaste.” At least she hadn’t dropped onto the floor. “Do you need anything?”

  “Not unless you happen to have some eye-makeup remover.”

  He very well could. But he was tempted to deny it in order to avoid having to explain. Then again, if she really needed it, he should give it to her. “Are you decent?”

  “That’s debatable, but you can come in.”

  Logan opened the door to find her wearing the threadbare T-shirt that hit her midthigh, standing in front of the mirror and rubbing a washcloth over her face. Ignoring the clothes piled on the marble counter—including a skimpy lace bra—he strode to the vanity, opened the drawer, pulled out the metallic-gold makeup bag and rifled through it. And he’d be damned if he didn’t find exactly what she was looking for.

  He withdrew the blue bottle and put in her hand. “Here you go. Eye-makeup remover.” She frowned. “Is there something you’re not telling me about yourself, Logan?”

  “I don’t wear makeup, if that’s what you’re asking. It belongs to someone else.”

  “You have a girlfriend.”

  “I have an ex-girlfriend.”

  “I see.” She opened the lid and dabbed the washcloth with the clear liquid. “But you’ve kept a few reminders.”

  “Yeah. To remind me of one of the many reasons why we’re not together anymore. She wore too much makeup.”

  “Okay.”

  Logan expected Jenna to question his other reasons, but she concentrated on removing the mascara. He liked that she hadn’t grilled him. Liked that she’d let past history remain in the past. He liked her a lot and couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way about a woman.

  She blew out a frustrated sigh. “I should never have let Candice put makeup on me. It’s a pain in the butt, and if I don’t get it off, it could cause problems.” Then she turned to him and asked, “Is it gone, or am I ready for Halloween four months early?”

  “Let me help.” He took the cloth from her hand, clasped her chin and wiped at the smudges beneath her lower lids. He was very aware of their close proximity. Aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath the shirt, and that particular knowledge was creating major havoc on his body. If he didn’t get away now, he was in danger of kissing her.

  On that thought, he tossed the rag into the sink and backed up a step. “It’s all gone. And you don’t need any makeup.”

  She smiled. “I bet you say that to all the women you rescue from the clutches of evil mascara.”

  “This is a first. I’ve never intentionally taken off a woman’s makeup.”

  “I’m sure you’re very good at removing lipstick.”

  “Could be.” And if she had any on now, which she didn’t, he’d be glad to remove it for her. “Are you finished?”

  She pushed her hair back with one hand. “I believe I am. Are you?”

  When he realized how close he was coming to making a fatal error, Logan took her by the arm and guided her back into the living room to settle her on the sofa. “Stretch out and I’ll cover you up.”

  After she complied, Logan pulled the blanket up to her chin, concealing her body and giving him some much-needed relief. “Is that okay?”

  She worked her arms from underneath the covers. “It’s fine. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I don’t know. You sound almost angry.”

  “I’m not angry.” At least not at her.

  She stretched her arms above her head before folding them beneath her breasts. “Then you’re not going to boot me out on my butt after I fall asleep?”

  “You’re safe.” But if she knew what he was thinking—that he’d like to climb on that couch with her—she might be the one doing the booting.

  After grabbing up the remote from the coffee table, Logan switched on the TV. “Any particular show you want to watch?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as there’s audio. You decide.”

  A return to his regularly scheduled program might offer a solid distraction. “I recorded the baseball game. They were in extra innings when I left to pick you up.”

  “I know. I also know the score. I heard some guys talking at the bar.” He set the remote back on the table. “Don’t tell me or you’ll ruin it.”

  “I’ll let you be surprised, then.” She rolled to her side to face him and began twisting the corner of the blanket. “Before you settle in for the night, there’s something I need to ask you.”

  Jenna’s tone was so somber, he worried that maybe she wasn’t feeling well. Worried that he might have to make a trip to the E.R. after all. But her well-being mattered more than the inconvenience. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” She closed her lids, then opened them slowly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen myself in the mirror, and I want to know if my eyes—”

  “They’re as beautiful as the rest of you.” And they were—pale brown, round eyes framed by long, dark lashes. No, she didn’t need any makeup. She was perfect just the way she was. Maybe even too perfect.

  Jenna smiled, but to Logan it looked almost sad. “I bet you say that to all the blind girls who end up on your sofa.”

  “You’re the first, and it’s the truth.”

  When she reached out her hand, he took it without hesitation. “Thanks, Logan. I’m glad we met.”

  “So am I.” And he was, more than he cared to admit. “Now, get some sleep.”

  He gave her hand a squeeze and took his place in the lounger several feet away. He tried to concentrate on the game, but he was too busy analyzing the woman on his couch. He wondered if she was as real as she seemed. If everything she’d told him was accurate. If he’d misjudged her due to his own bitter experience. He suspected he had, and he wanted more proof.

  For Logan O’Brien, the night might have begun with an unwelcome interruption, but it had ended with one huge surprise—Jenna Fordyce.

  Chapter Three

  What are you doing?”

  At the sound of Logan’s distinct and somewhat gruff voice, Jenna turned and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “I was going to make you breakfast to repay you for rescuing me last night. But I’ve never been much of a cook, even before I lost my sight.” She felt
behind her for the carton of milk and held it up. “Can I interest you in cold cereal?”

  “No thanks.”

  Jenna detected a hint of irritation in his tone. “Is something wrong?”

  “When I didn’t find you on the couch after I took my shower, I was worried.”

  She appreciated his concern, even if it wasn’t warranted. “You don’t have any reason to worry.” She touched the edge of the bandage covering her wound. “My head’s a little sore, but I’m fine.”

  Jenna calculated Logan’s approach through the sound of his footsteps, and knew he moved beside her when she caught the trace scent of fresh soap. “As soon as you get dressed, we can leave,” he said.

  She ran a fast hand down the T-shirt he’d loaned her last night. “This is comfortable. Think I’ll just wear it home. I’ll have it laundered and back to you next week.” Better still, she could deliver it in person.

  Not a banner idea. She had no cause to pursue a relationship with a man at this point in her life.

  “It looks good on you,” he said. “But if you keep it, then you’ll have to explain to your father where the shirt came from. And that would lead to telling him you spent the night with me and, in turn, I’ll lose his business.”

  Always seeing things through a business lens, just like her father. “He’s not due home until late afternoon, so don’t concern yourself with getting caught. Which reminds me. What time is it now?”

  “Almost ten.”

  “I can’t believe I slept so late.” But then, she hadn’t slept all that well last night knowing Logan had been only a few paces away.

  “And that’s why we need to get a move on,” he said. “Before Avery finds out you’ve been gone all night.”

  Jenna wouldn’t be surprised if her dad had already called home only to connect to the voice mail. “My personal life isn’t my father’s business, and what happened last night doesn’t qualify as questionable. I slept on your couch, and you kept watch over me from a chair.”

  “I still plan to have you home well before he arrives.” He caught her hand and wrapped it firmly in his. “Come on. I’ll help you get dressed.”

  Plainly, he was more than ready to be rid of her. “I can dress myself, thank you.”

  “I’ll hang around, anyway, to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Jenna allowed Logan to guide her into the bathroom where she took care of her morning ritual while he played watchdog outside the door. She managed to slide the blouse over her head, but when she attempted to close the skirt’s back zipper, it wouldn’t budge. At times like these, she wished she had a closet full of shapeless shifts and elastic waistbands, or the return of her sight.

  Only one option existed at the moment—swallowing her pride. “I need some help, Logan.” The door creaked open. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing serious,” she said, keeping her back to him. “Just a malfunctioning zipper. And if you’re like most guys, you’ve had a lot of practice with women’s zippers.”

  “I’m better at lowering them, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  Though his voice held a touch of amusement, Jenna couldn’t quite shake the sudden images his comment evoked as he moved behind her. “If you can’t fix it, then I guess I’ll have to wear your shirt home, after all.”

  “I can handle it.” Bracing his hand on her hips, he tugged her toward him and went to work.

  After only a single attempt, Jenna felt the zipper dislodge, followed by Logan saying, “You’re all set.”

  She turned to thank him, swayed forward and in order to right herself, landed her hands on a wide expanse of powerhouse bare chest. “You’re not wearing a shirt.” A brilliant observation on her part.

  He clasped her waist. “You have my shirt.”

  Clearly, her brain’s command center didn’t feel the need to remove her hands. “If that’s the only shirt you own, you need to ask my father for more money.”

  “I own several shirts. I just haven’t put one on, yet.”

  She’d found that out the pleasant way. “I see. Or maybe it’s because I don’t see. You could be naked, and I’d never know.”

  “I’m not naked.” He shifted closer. “I’m wearing a smile.”

  Without thought, her hands drifted down his firm sides until she contacted a denim waistband. “Very funny. You really had me fooled for a minute.”

  “Anything else you need from me?”

  She could think of several things, most of which wouldn’t be wise. Interesting, yes. Prudent, no. Reluctantly, she dropped her arms to her sides. “I should probably go home now. I need to take a shower.”

  “I have a shower, and I’d be glad to help.”

  How simple it would be to take him up on the offer. How very easy to forget why she couldn’t acknowledge this overriding chemistry between them. “Believe me, I’ve showered by myself before. Every morning, in fact.”

  “Fine, but if you decide on the way home that you’d like my assistance, just let me know.”

  “Do you know where you’re going, Logan?”

  Straight into a ditch if he didn’t keep his eyes on the road and off of her. “I’ve been to your place before.”

  “Really? When was that?”

  He glanced at Jenna to find her frowning. “About two years ago, when I first contracted with your dad. He invited me to a dinner party.”

  “Apparently, I wasn’t in attendance at that little soiree.”

  “No, you weren’t there.” Without a doubt, he would’ve remembered if she had been.

  “I must have been busy, otherwise I’m sure I would have been playing the perfect hostess to my father’s perfect corporate crusader.” Her sarcasm was unmistakable.

  “You don’t sound like you enjoy that scene,” he said.

  “Not really, but I view it as a favor to my father.”

  Logan could relate to family loyalty. “What else do you do in your spare time these days, aside from being a hostess?”

  “I listen to audio books, mostly nonfiction, although I do enjoy a good legal thriller now and then. I’ve been learning Braille and several foreign languages, and when Calvin’s not carting me to doctor’s appointments, he drives me to the library twice a week where I tell stories to preschoolers.”

  He wasn’t all that surprised by the revelation, although he was impressed. “I could tell you like being around kids when I saw you with my nephew.”

  “Yes, I do.” She sighed. “They don’t pass judgment or patronize me. Basically they view me as a storyteller who happens to be blind, not the other way around.”

  He sensed that was important to her—being treated like an average person. As far as Logan was concerned, Jenna Fordyce was anything but average.

  “What do you do when you’re not working?” she asked.

  “I go to sporting events when I have some spare time. And on Sunday, I have lunch with the family.” Although, he’d missed those gatherings several times over the past few months, something that didn’t sit well with his mother.

  “That means you’re going to be late to your lunch because of me,” she said.

  “It’s not going to matter if I’m late.” He would receive more grief from his sister for not jumping back into the dating loop, and from his brothers who claimed he’d lost his touch with women. Come to think of it, he could remedy that harassment—at least, temporarily—with one suggestion. “Since Avery won’t be back until later, you should come with me. The food’s simple, but the company’s good.”

  When she didn’t immediately respond, Logan glanced in her direction to find her deep in thought. “Well?” he asked.

  “I should stay home in case he arrives early.” She sent him an apologetic smile. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to pass.”

  Logan couldn’t explain his disappointment, nor did he want to acknowledge it. But he did feel it. “Not a problem.”

  The conversation waned for the next few miles until
Logan approached the estate—a house that looked as if it could hold five families. “We’re at the entrance,” he said as they pulled into the drive.

  Jenna rummaged through her purse and withdrew a remote control, pointed it straight ahead and sent the security gate in motion.

  Logan drove through the entry and immediately noticed a man with silver hair dressed in a black business suit, standing on the front porch. The last man he wanted to see at the moment.

  Slowing the vehicle to a crawl, he asked, “How well do you and your dad get along?”

  She rubbed her forehead, like the question had given her a major headache. “As long as he doesn’t try to tell me what to do, we get along fine. He’s very overprotective, the consummate doting father. But I love him with all my heart and appreciate all he’s done for me since my mother’s death. I probably don’t tell him that enough.”

  “Well, now’s your chance.” She turned her head toward him, a confused look on her face. “I don’t understand.”

  Maybe not, but she would. And whether Avery Fordyce would understand why his only daughter had been out all night, still remained to be seen. “Looks like your father caught an earlier flight.” And right then Avery looked as if he could fly off the porch and put someone in a choke hold.

  Jenna tipped her head back against the seat and muttered, “Great,” while Logan navigated the circular drive. After stopping underneath the portico, he said, “Let me handle this.”

  “No. I’ll handle it.”

  Logan had barely left the Hummer and reached the passenger side before Jenna had the door open, one leg dangling out of the vehicle.

  After he guided her up the steps, he started to launch into an explanation but lost the opportunity when Avery asked, “Where in God’s name have you been, Jenna?”

  “She’s been with me,” Logan said, although Avery didn’t look too pleased by the disclosure.

  Jenna reached out to find her father’s arm, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I went out for Candice’s birthday and I had a little mishap.” She touched the bandage on her forehead. “Logan was kind enough to have his brother, Devin, who happens to be a doctor, take a look at the cut. He fixed me up with a few little strips to hold it together, Logan loaned me his sofa for the night, end of story.”