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He lifted his head, and she felt cold without his mouth pressed against hers.
“One kiss … I thought it would be enough, but I want more,” he said.
She did, too, but this was Jack. And now that his mouth wasn’t on hers … she pushed away from him and he let her go, his hands trailing over her hips until they fell to his sides.
“That got out of hand,” she said.
“I don’t think so, but I guess you’re not ready for anything more,” he said.
She sensed the frustration behind his words and she felt it, too, but she wasn’t going to rush things with Jack. She still didn’t know how she felt about him, and instead of making matters clearer, this night had only served to muddle them.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t rush into this. I thought you were a shallow me, me, me, guy when I came here tonight,” she admitted.
“And now?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Revenge was something that she’d craved and giving it up just wasn’t an option, but now she understood the saying about it being a dish best served cold. Because this heat between them melted her resolve.
“That’s why I need some time to think about this,” she said.
He nodded. “Fair enough. You’ll have plenty of time to mull things over because I leave for L.A. after we finish shooting in the morning. I won’t be back in New York for a week.”
She felt a sense of loss at the thought of him leaving and she knew that she had to get her head straight. It was a good thing he was going away because right now she’d have to say she was still stupid where he was concerned. But she’d miss him. And she hadn’t expected to.
“Will you have dinner with me again next Saturday?” he asked. “Not here, but on a proper date where I pick you up and take you out.”
“Yes,” she said and her voice did that squeaky thing again. She shook her head. “Hopefully I’ll be able to speak when you see me next week.”
“I like you just the way you are, Willow.”
She wished she could believe that was true, but he didn’t know her. He hadn’t back in high school and he didn’t now. On the set she treated him the way she did all talent—with a certain indulgence coupled with disdain. But he was talking about liking her. How could he? She wasn’t even sure she liked herself.
“Ah, you’re just saying that … aren’t you?” There was a hint of something fragile in her voice.
Jack felt as if Willow was still running away from him, and he knew no matter what gestures he made to bring her closer, he was treading on thin ice. He could literally navigate his way on thin ice—he’d been to the South Pole with explorer and entrepreneur Jefferson Haldon eighteen months ago—but this was different.
And personal relationships had always been harder for him. Give him a physical obstacle and tell him it was impossible and he’d find a way to conquer it. But give him a woman and tell him that she was impossible and he was stymied. It was frustrating to think he’d come such a long way from Frisco, Texas, and still hadn’t figured women out.
This woman. Frankly, she was the only one he really wanted to unravel and strip bare. But every time he thought he had a handle on her she did something unexpected … like the squeaky voice thing. What did it mean?
Why was this making her vulnerable? He was the one putting himself on the line … or was he the only one?
“Willow, I’m being honest. There is something about you that intrigues me. Even when you’re giving me the cold shoulder.”
“I’d put that down to ego,” she said.
“Me, too,” he admitted. “I’m not used to being ignored.”
“Then you don’t know for sure that you like me,” she said.
He crossed his arms over his chest, wondering if honesty was the key to this woman. Honesty was tricky because the truth wasn’t always as nice and pretty as people wanted it to be. “Want to know a secret?”
“Sure,” she said.
But there was a guarded look in her eyes, as if she was expecting him to say something … hurtful? He couldn’t read it. Never had been able to. The flashes he had of her from high school were just those big eyes of hers and that guarded expression on her face.
“I’m not sure if I like myself.”
Dammit, where had those words come from? He had meant to feed her some line about how she couldn’t expect him to like her if she kept him from truly knowing her. What he couldn’t tell her is that he’d lost the ability to care about anything but a challenge a long time ago.
“I didn’t expect you to be that honest,” she said. “What’s not to like about you? You’re charming—”
“I didn’t think you’d noticed,” he said, flashing her a calculated grin because he needed to get them back on familiar footing instead of staying here where he felt so damned vulnerable.
“It’s hard not to when you are wooing everyone in sight.”
“That’s my job. I can’t be successful if no one wants to talk to me. I’m the host.”
“You’re right about that,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “So it’s just for show?”
He shrugged. “I genuinely like talking to people and hearing their stories. They fascinate me.”
That hadn’t always been the case. There had been a time in his life when he’d been so focused on himself he didn’t know others even existed. But his accident and hitting rock bottom had changed that. He’d needed people and had been amazed at how many had reached out to help him.
“Me, too. As long as they are moving toward helping me finish whatever I’m working on,” Willow said. She was driven, and he could respect that.
“Is work all you ever think about?” he asked. She had always struck him as a workaholic. Then again, he only saw her in the context of the set, so he thought he might have it wrong. Now he wasn’t so sure.
She shook her head, but then grimaced. “It is. Even when I’m out with my friends I’m always thinking of my next project. But you know how it is in our business. If you take a break for a second someone will pass you by and that’s it. No one remembers your name.”
“You can take a small break. How about when I get back to the East Coast you play hooky for one day?” he suggested. He needed to have her to himself so he could see if she was worth all the crazy she brought to his life.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I want to give you something you can’t give yourself.” He wanted to get her to notice him, and charm and expensive gifts weren’t the key to Willow. He could see that now.
“I don’t know that I want that kind of gift,” she said.
“Too bad. That’s what I’m claiming as my favor.”
“Uh, you already had your favor and it was a smokin’-hot kiss.”
“Dang, that’s right. Okay, fine, we’ll wait until after our date or better yet, I’ll make our date a no-talking-about-work one.”
“If that’s what you want,” she said, nibbling her lower lip.
“I really should be going,” she said.
But she made no move toward the door. She seemed as reluctant as he was to see this night end. “We didn’t get to really enjoy our coffee since we had that little work crisis to attend to … want another cup?”
She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I can’t or I’ll be up all night.”
“How about seeing where that kiss could lead?” he asked.
“I want to say yes. I think that’s why I’m still here. But I don’t get why I’m attracted to you,” she said. “It would have been so much nicer if your kiss tasted gross.”
That startled a laugh out of him and he shook his head. “You really are one of a kind. Sorry for not being gross.”
She gave him a really tender half smile that let him see how vulnerable she could be. And it was odd to see that expression on her face because she was always in charge. Always so in control of herself and her surroundings, but now he had a glimpse of a different side of her.
“It just makes everything so much more complicated.”
“Surely you’ve had that happen before,” he said. He couldn’t believe she’d get to thirty and not have found a man she could like kissing. “Dating is never as simple as we want it to be.”
“I don’t really date,” she admitted. “As you noted earlier I’m pretty much always all about work.”
“No man asks you out?”
“They do but I’m busy and no one has intrigued me enough—”
“Enough? Enough to what?”
She tipped her head to the side, studying him with that clear cool gaze of hers. “To risk getting hurt.”
“Not every relationship equals hurt,” he said.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, turning on her heel and heading toward the door.
“Who hurt you?” he asked. “Was it a lover or your father?”
She glanced back over her shoulder. “It doesn’t really matter. At least not now.”
Willow was surprised by how intuitive Jack was and she didn’t necessarily like it. A fun bet with Nic was one thing; actually letting Jack past her defenses was something else. She’d meant it when she’d said she wished he wasn’t a good kisser. She didn’t want to like him.
She understood why Nichole had wanted her to come on this date. But Willow hadn’t realized how much she had hidden away from her past until now. The emotions she’d thought she’d forgotten were all there stirring inside of her and making her say and do things that her common sense said not to.
“I think it does matter,” he said. “I don’t want to fight a ghost of a man. Tell me the details so I know what I’m up against.”
No way. She didn’t want to get all deep and Greek tragedy on him. She always thought of her epic quest for vengeance as some sort of ancient tale. It made it easier to wait for opportunities to strike back at Jack. Vengeance wasn’t an instant gratification process.
“This was our first date,” she said. “You are supposed to be thinking about asking me out on a second date, not about the other men I’ve dated.”
“I am thinking about that, Wills, but I know that you’re not going to fall for a man you can’t trust. And so far all I’ve done to impress you is not kiss gross.”
“The not being gross thing counts for a lot more than you think it does,” she said, trying to move the conversation back into safer waters without letting him see how desperately she wanted to stop talking about this.
“Trust me, I’m flattered. But one of the things I’m seeing about you is that it takes more than a kiss to woo you.”
“Why woo me? Can’t you just do whatever it is you usually do?” she asked.
“No way. That’s the surefire way to have you for just one night,” he said.
That had to be a line.
“You want more than that?” she asked. “You don’t even know me.”
“Agreed. But I want to know you. Every time I’m with you I want to stay in your presence as long as I can. I know it’s not cool to admit but I’m obsessed with you.”
“Obsessed with me? As soon as you figure out why you’ll move on,” she said.
He shrugged. “I don’t think so. That’s why I need to know more about you.”
She doubted that knowledge would help. But the fact that he admitted to being enamored with her was a mark in her favor. She wanted revenge and she saw that it could be very easily had if she played her cards right. Except that she was conflicted. She liked Jack.
He had a self-effacing side—something that she’d take over ego and arrogance any day. He was funny and charming and then there were his kisses, which had almost made her want to drag him to the floor and have her way with him.
“I guess next Saturday will be a big date for us, then,” she said.
“Unless you want to stay here now and talk all night,” he said. “I’m flying to L.A. in the morning so I don’t mind.”
“Really? Don’t you need sleep like the rest of us?”
“I do,” he said, “but for you, I’d give it up.”
She had to work tomorrow but she was honest enough to admit to herself that she probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight for thinking about him. But staying here had mistake written all over it and she was done making mistakes with Jack Crown … really, she was.
“I can’t. I’m not ready to be that intense with you, Jack. I’m still not sure you aren’t playing some kind of game with me.”
He looked hurt for a nanosecond and then covered it with a shrug. “I’m not really a player.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t know you well enough yet. Thanks again for helping out with Deidre, though.”
“No problem. I like being able to help.”
“I can see that,” she said.
She reached for the doorknob and then glanced back over her shoulder to say goodbye. There was a wistful look on Jack’s face. She realized then that Nichole might have known that Jack seemed to genuinely care about her. Willow didn’t understand him herself. How could someone who’d treated her so callously in high school have grown into this man?
“Night,” he said, lifting one hand to wave goodbye to her.
“Night,” she said, walking out into the hallway and closing the door. She leaned back against it and took a deep breath. She really didn’t know what had happened but her heart was racing and she regretted leaving him.
She wasn’t being careful with her own emotions. Why was it that Jack Crown seemed to know the things to do and say to make her feel this way? Why couldn’t she meet another man who had this kind of power over her?
Why him?
She pushed away from the door and walked down the hallway before realizing she’d forgotten her coat. Dammit, if it weren’t so cold she’d just leave it. But it had been snowing when she’d arrived. She turned back and knocked on his door.
He opened it and held out her coat. She saw that he’d put his own on and had his keys in his hands. He had a scarf draped around his neck.
