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She had an aching desire to retake what had once been hers, and the need overwhelmed her fears. She plundered his mouth and he responded.
He crushed her to his body.
Time melted away and it was the same as it had been. His lips and hers, dancing in unison. Electricity zinged between them like lightning, their arms and bodies interlocking in an embrace so warm, so hard, so hot that Meg could hardly breathe.
When Jake pulled back he tasted her lips again and again, as though he couldn’t get enough of her. Finally, he pulled away.
Her lips were still hungry, as her body was, and it was all she could do to stop herself crying out at his withdrawal.
The corners of Jake’s mouth twitched. He seemed to enjoy her struggle to capture her composure. ‘It’s still there, Meg.’
‘It’s not enough, Jake,’ she managed breathlessly. Her blood pounded wildly through her veins and an aching was aroused in her that she’d kept suppressed for too long. ‘I’m going home.’ She pulled out of his hold and snatched up her bag. She had to get away from him before she did something stupid.
‘Meg.’
His voice cut into her, straight to her core. She stopped.
‘You owe me a chance, Meg.’
She spun around. ‘What the hell gives you that idea?’
‘Damn it, Meg. You’re the one who ran away. I want to talk about this.’
‘I’m different and you’re—you’re…You’re you! I’ve grown up.’ She looked away to hide the truth. ‘I won’t live like that again, Jake.’ Never again.
She could barely suppress her temper. She wanted to tell him everything she’d been through, all the pain, the hurt, the loneliness, but the words died on her lips. He wasn’t any different now from the man she’d known three years ago—it would end just the same. ‘I’m not your wife any more.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘YOU may not wear my ring any more.’ Jake glanced at her bare finger and his gut lurched. ‘But we’re still married.’
Meg strode resolutely to the door and swung it wide. ‘Goodbye, Mr Adams.’ She lifted her chin in defiance.
Jake ignored the door.
She was still beautiful. Her large blue eyes and lush red lips spoke directly to his body. The spark in her voice fired his passion and her ivory skin called to him to touch her again and again.
Meg needed someone looking out for her. It could have been him if he hadn’t been blinded by work. He should’ve seen she wasn’t happy. Her leaving him like that had been confirmation of his greatest fear.
Marrying her had been right for him, but not for her. He’d taken advantage of her youth, her naivety, and paid for it with a gaping hole in his life.
But now he was back. He was worthy of her now. He had money, security, and was hell-bent on not making the same mistakes again. He was sure that, whatever her reason for leaving, he could make it right now.
Jake could barely restrain his need to make her his again. But he knew from Meg’s chilly reception that she wasn’t ready to let them pick up where they left off. She wasn’t even willing to see how much he’d changed. If only he knew why. Then he’d have some chance of sorting this all out.
A muscle quivered in his jaw. ‘I mean it, Meg. I’m not leaving your side until you tell me what happened.’
Meg crossed her arms over her soft, full breasts, her lips pressed together in a grim line.
The look on her face said it all. Jake knew it well. Hers was a look of defiance, as if she’d rather be struck dead than give in to him. He’d spent enough years coercing men to work to know he had to change tack or lose.
‘Let me start over, Meg. This has gotten all out of proportion. I came to find you so I could work out what went wrong. So…’ He paused, faltering in his course of action. She had to feel safe, see him differently. ‘So I don’t make the same mistakes with…’ His befuddled mind dredged up the name of the woman who had handled his company’s business logo and card designs. ‘With Vivian.’
Meg’s arms dropped to her sides. Her lips parted in surprise, her whole jaw slack, blank eyes staring at him.
Of all the rotten…Meg’s mind ran through a dozen expletives. The nerve! Coming to ask her to explain to him what he’d done wrong so he didn’t wreck his precious relationship with this Vivian. The only reason!
She clenched her hands by her sides. No wonder it had taken him so long to find her. He’d been waiting for a good reason. And her name was Vivian.
She walked stiffly back to her desk, moving around the expanse of timber, hoping for some barrier between them. This had had to come. She had known that it would eventually. Though she’d expected some document in the mail from his solicitor, demanding she sign divorce papers so he could marry some nameless, faceless woman. Not him in person. ‘I guess you’ll want a divorce, then.’ She ground the words out from between her teeth.
He looked taken aback for a moment. ‘Yes, of course. But I’m not going to sign anything until I understand fully what went wrong with us.’ He seated himself casually in one of her embroidered chairs and propped a foot up on his knee, exuding a calm that Meg wished she could find herself.
‘Then why the hell did you kiss me?’ She leant heavily on the desk, wishing she could spit fire and strike him down where he sat, with her eyes alone.
He shrugged matter-of-factly. ‘Habit. Sorry. Forgot who you were for a moment—I just got carried away with your lips so close, begging to be taken.’
‘They were not begging!’ She turned away, willing her cheeks to cool. She’d been acting like a total idiot. She mentally rehashed their conversation and kicked herself. He’d been harping on about wanting to know what had happened in the past, not inviting himself into her life, or her future. She took several big breaths to slow her pounding heart. Here she was trying to convince him that she was mature now and she’d been rambling like a scared child.
She managed a smile, taking her eyes off his powerful body and staring at the fabric samples on her desk. ‘I’ll be glad to discuss your failings as a husband.’ Meg revelled in the idea of doling out a serving of revenge. She gritted her teeth. She would love to bring him down a peg or two with some hard truths. ‘Let’s say dinner tonight at seven, at Vivo’s?’
‘Same place as lunchtime?’ He hesitated. ‘Okay, sure.’ He rose in one fluid motion.
‘And bring Vivian,’ Meg added, inspired. She couldn’t get into any trouble with Jake if his precious girlfriend was there. And it would be darned interesting to see whom he was making such a fuss over. Then she could put a face to the woman who could tolerate Jake’s lack of commitment.
‘Vivian?’
‘Yes. Bring along the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.’ Her stomach twisted into a painful knot at the thought. ‘She’s the one who’d be most interested to hear what I have to say. She did come with you, didn’t she?’ Meg raised an eyebrow and held her breath. Maybe this woman was involved with him for his money and his body, not for love.
‘She’s in Brisbane.’ Jake’s voice faded, losing its strength. ‘Won’t be down until…tomorrow afternoon.’ He stopped and drew a deep breath. ‘That’s what I came in here about, actually. I wanted to check out the place for her. She wants a gown for some charity ball on the Gold Coast.’
‘Two birds with one stone?’
He shifted his weight and thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘Yeah, something like that.’
‘And do I check out?’ Meg didn’t know what to think any more. Her head felt as though it would split in half with the strain of the day’s turn of events. ‘Of course I won’t let on that you kissed me. I wouldn’t want to upset the apple cart.’ Or did she? Certainly she had some duty to let the woman know what she was getting into with Jake—she’d just have to find a way to wend his womanising ways into the conversation.
‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’
‘No worries.’ She smiled. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.’ Like plotting revenge, or collapsing in a heap, or both.
‘Will you still come tonight?’ Jake moved towards the door with all the satisfaction of a beast that had captured its prey.
‘Sure.’ A meal with Jake couldn’t hurt, and finding out all about Vivian and making a meal of her would be exactly what her ego needed to repair some of the damage.
‘Vivian?’ Jake could almost picture her behind her desk, ebony-black hair coiled on top of her head, pristine suit, sharp eyes and pinched mouth. Nothing like Meg.
‘Yes.’
He gripped the phone tighter. ‘Jacob Adams, JAKCO Constructions. You may not remember me. We met at the golf club, you did some work for me…?’
‘Of course I do,’ she purred. ‘Jacob, how are you? How’s work going? How’s the logo? The business cards? Is my ad in the Yellow Pages working?’
He swallowed. He hadn’t needed one in the first place; he got his work from tenders out of the newspapers mostly. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to disappoint the efficient woman. ‘Works great.’
‘Good.’ There was silence. ‘What can I do for you, then?’
He dragged air into his lungs, stewing on how to phrase his request. ‘I need your services for a week, in Melbourne. Strictly business, of course.’
‘Of course. Sounds intriguing, tell me more.’
What could he possibly say? He wasn’t about to blurt out the truth to a stranger. ‘I need a companion to avoid any misinterpretation of my actions—’
‘Does this involve a woman?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you don’t want her to get the wrong idea. I’m assuming you’ll pay for my expenses, my time away from work…?’
‘Of course.’
‘My company could bear closing its doors for the right price,’ she tittered.
Jake quoted a figure he was sure would fully compensate her for any loss of business. Money wasn’t an issue. Only Meg was, and it was blatantly obvious she felt threatened by him. If he could get her to let her guard down…
‘Are you offering anything extra?’
He racked his brain as to what more she could want. ‘Yes. You get a dress by a designer in Melbourne.’ Women loved clothes. He smiled. He should have the deal sewn up.
‘Not exactly what I was expecting, but why not? When do I start?’
Jake couldn’t help but smile as he dropped the phone into its cradle. That was one problem solved. Now he could focus all his energies in one direction only…
Meg hadn’t counted on the noisy, cluttered restaurant of lunch turning into such a romantic venue at night. The lights were dimmed, candles were lit on each cloth-covered table, and there was soft music. Couples nestled everywhere, leaning close and enjoying the atmosphere.
She held her hands together tightly, kneading them as she approached the tall figure at the bar. He wore a cream cotton shirt and dark Armani trousers, but she knew better than anyone that clothes didn’t make the man. So he dressed well, and exuded a subtle scent of cologne that invaded her nostrils and sent goosebumps all over her skin…She felt like standing there for a while and just drinking in the sight of him, but she’d tortured herself enough for one day. ‘Jake.’
He turned, his eyes running down over her, from her black silk blouse to her black loose-fitting trousers and high-heeled boots. ‘Meg. I was starting to think you weren’t coming.’ His smile widened in approval.
Her stomach fluttered and she was glad she’d resisted the urge to dress to the hilt. Although some part of her wanted to rub his face in what he’d missed out on, the other part was more than content for him to go his way with this Vivian woman and leave her and hers well enough alone. What she needed was love, and Jake wasn’t the one to give her that. Jake was a load she wasn’t willing to bear again. ‘I got caught up at home.’
His eyebrows drew together in a frown. ‘Are you involved with anyone?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
Jake cast her a quick glance. ‘I’m sure the guy would be interested to know you’re still married.’ He paused, but she didn’t respond. ‘Did you tell him you were going out with your husband?’ Jake clenched his fists. ‘He could have come too, you know.’
‘Let’s get a table, shall we?’ Meg didn’t want to get into the details of her personal life with Jake. She wasn’t about to blurt out what she’d gone through in the last three years, or who was waiting for her at home.
‘Fine.’ Jake raised a hand and signalled one of the Italian waiters. They sat down at a much-too-quiet table in a corner. Jake ordered wine and they both ordered their meal. Then he turned to her.
‘So, tell me what happened to us.’
‘Now?’ She lowered her eyes and moved uneasily in her seat. He had never been one for patience or subtlety, but she’d expected to have a chance at indigestion before she tackled that one.
‘Good a time as any.’ Jake leant on the table, reducing the space between them by precious inches. His boldly handsome face smiled warmly at her.
Meg felt her stomach curl. She’d rehearsed her story all afternoon, but it seemed to stick in her throat. She took a gulp of water from her glass. It was one thing lamenting Jake’s actions for years, another to tell him to his face how he’d broken her heart.
The wine arrived, and Meg snatched up the goblet and gulped the deep red vintage. It went down quickly, hitting her stomach with such force that Meg slapped the glass down to cover the unpleasant response. She hadn’t eaten lunch—hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, figuring her poor belly was suffering enough with stress without adding food to it.
‘That good, hey?’ Jake teased, his wide smile sending her senses into a spin.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know where to start.’ Her mind reeled with confusion. Where was the level-headed woman she knew so well? The one who’d coped despite all the obstacles, trials and tribulations sent her way? She had the perverse urge to run home to see if she’d left her lying out on the bed, where her clothes had been all afternoon, taunting her with what was coming.
‘Tell me anything, then. Tell me about your career.’
She was glad of the reprieve, though cautious at what he was up to with this show of civility. Meg rattled on for what seemed like ages, carefully choosing her words so she didn’t trip herself into revealing more than she wanted to. She told him lightly about how she’d eked out a meagre existence above a garage in Toorak, her main patron being her landlady, who’d believed so much in her designs that she’d advertised by word of mouth.
Meg didn’t want to harp on any of the details. It wouldn’t do her any good to fuel any sense of guilt Jake might have for what had happened in the past. If he knew what she’d been through, and how much she owed, she hated to think what he might do; his over-inflated sense of duty might run rampant, all over her well-ordered life. And the way his eyes never left her face while she talked, the way his hands gripped the edge of the table, suggested he wasn’t as calm as he was pretending to be.
‘Your landlady sounds like Winnie.’
‘Yes,’ Meg answered.
‘You miss her?’
‘Yes.’ Her father’s aunt, Winnie, had died just after Meg had begun college. She hadn’t been like a mother to her—she’d never known a mother. But Winnie had been like a very old big sister. She’d been her friend more than anything, and not afraid to tell her anything that she’d needed to know—although sometimes Meg felt she’d given Winnie more of an education about life than her great-aunt had given her.
Mostly she remembered the fairytales Winnie had told her as a child, of the princess being saved by the handsome prince, and how she was carried off to the castle in the air. Later, when Winnie’s eyesight had started to fail her, Meg would read her stories. She was glad that she’d died peacefully in her sleep; it gave her the hope that her old friend had been dreaming of her own prince when she’d left.
It had been a shock finding her there like that. And of course Dad hadn’t been there. She’d been alone. She’d had to work out all the details herself while Dad wired her the money. He hadn’t even made it to the funeral. But he’d made it to his own, only a year later.
‘How is your mother?’ Meg asked politely. Jake’s mother, Moira, had never liked her. She’d gone out of her way to make sure Meg knew how disappointed she was at Jake’s decision to marry her. Moira had looked daggers at Meg at the wedding, had ignored her totally at the reception, and had made herself conspicuously absent when Jake and Meg moved to a home of their very own.
‘She’s fine.’
‘Any more stepfathers?’
Jake shot her a dark look. ‘No.’
‘I’m sorry, that was out of line.’ Moira had gone through three husbands and several lovers. Meg was sure it was her personality that attracted them; she tended to be light and cheerful most of the time. It was the rest of the time that was the problem.
Their meal arrived and Meg tried to concentrate on the flavour of her lasagna, but its taste was lost on her. Nothing registered with her as real except Jake on the other side of the table and the strained distance between them.
What did she care anyway? That was the point, after all, she kept telling herself. All she had to do was get this over and done with and she could get back to her life. The thought echoed around in her mind. It had a hollow ring to it.
‘And how’s Danny?’ Meg was sure that he was a safe subject, if not a flamboyant one. Danny had been Jake’s best friend for as long as she could remember, sticking with him through thick and thin despite their different natures.
