A Bride for Jackson Powers (Desire, 1273) by Dixie Browning Read Free Book Online Page B

really be that naive? She had about as much chance of finding her purse in this mob as he did of sprouting wings and flying out of here. “Sit down, honey, let me round up someone from security. I wouldn’t count on getting it back, though.”
    “That woman I was telling you about? The one whose husband is a cement contractor, and whosethree teenage sons are traveling with her? She might’ve seen something. I was talking to her outside the rest room. She was showing me some pictures of her cat, and I was showing her pictures of Robert—I told you about Robert, didn’t I?”
    Not only told him, she’d shown him the pictures. Her family, such as it was—all steps and in-laws—seemed to mean a lot to her.
    He figured the friendly old woman and her equally friendly sons—if they really were her sons—might have had a small scam going. God knows it wouldn’t be the first time some lowlife had taken advantage of a disaster. Looters seemed to crawl out of the woodwork after every catastrophe, big or small.
    Finding any uniformed personnel was next to impossible. Whenever any one of them, from the cleaning crew on up, showed their faces, they were mobbed. Nevertheless Jax finally managed to talk to someone from security, only to be told that one missing purse was far down on the priority list. In this terminal alone they had nine missing children, three women in labor at last count, two heart attacks and a diplomat with two broken fingers.
    On hearing what he had to report, Hetty swallowed hard. He wondered if she was going to cry. Two crying females might be more than he could handle at one time.
    She fooled him. Took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “Thanks for trying. I really do appreciate it, because I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
    Her chin wobbled once before she got it under control. But when the tip of her nose got suspiciously red, Jax simply opened his arms. After only a brief hesitation, she walked into them, lowered her head to his shoulder and opened the floodgates.
    “Go ahead, cry if it’ll make you feel better,” he offered generously.
    “It w-won’t. It’ll only make m-my throat ache.”
    But she cried, and he held her because it was the right thing to do. And because he damned well wanted to hold her! He didn’t know how much she’d been carrying in her purse—a few traveler’s checks, her tickets and baggage claims, probably, along with the kind of things most women carried in purses. Family photos, credit cards, makeup…
    He could help her with the financial stuff once he got past her prickly pride, but at the moment he had other things on his mind. He’d meant only to comfort her in her loss. Unfortunately comfort didn’t begin to describe the feelings that coursed through his body. As her warm tears soaked through his shirt, he was aware of a growing warmth in another region. It didn’t help matters at all.
    Leaning against the wall, he held her until the shudders subsided, and then he patted her back clumsily, all the while trying to ease her body away from his.
    It wasn’t working. “Feeling better now?” he asked, forcing a false note of cheeriness.
    “Don’t look at me, I’m all red-eyed and awful looking.”
    “Yeah, you’re a monster, all right.” He dug outhis handkerchief, glanced at it and shoved it back into his pocket.
    She took a deep gulp of air and lifted her face from his shoulder, but made no attempt to disengage herself from his embrace. “I’m all right now.”
    Jax gave up. She had to be aware of what was happening to him. There was no way he could disguise his arousal, but it was damned poor timing, considering the fact that they were in a public place, surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of people.
    Because he couldn’t seem to help himself, his hand slid down to her hips, pressing her tightly against him. It only made things worse. Her mouth was mere inches from his, her eyes closed, the lashes glistening with tears.
    Well, what the