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“While it lasted, the relationship was mutually satisfying.”
“It never lasts, Jack. Why is that?” She folded her arms on the table.
He lifted one broad shoulder dismissively. “I’m not looking for anything permanent. Don’t I get points for sending roses and breaking it off before someone gets hurt?”
“You’re a hit-and-run player. How do you know there’s no such thing as love at first sight?”
A dark eyebrow arched. “Maddie, I had no idea you were such a romantic.”
She ignored the way his words pricked her. “You may not get hurt, but how do you know others don’t?”
Maddie hurt for all the Angelica Tedescos in his life. And roses wouldn’t mend a broken heart. She knew for a fact only time would do that. Time and a promise not to make the same mistake. Jack had mistake written all over him.
She met his gaze. “It occurs to me that you’re a lot like your father.”
“You’re wrong.” His voice was sharp enough to cut glass.
“Am I? What was it you said to him tonight? Buried in work and playing with women? You described yourself, Jack.”
His gaze jumped to hers as the muscle in his jaw flexed. “Aren’t you just full of questions and observations.”
“It’s part of my job and what you expect from me,” she shot back. “And here’s an observation for you. In spite of that, he seems like a charming man.”
He scowled. “Believe me, he’s not the nice man you think, Maddie.”
She waited and hoped he’d say more, but he’d shut down tighter than an airport in a blizzard. If he expected them not to talk about what happened tonight, he’d brought the wrong woman to London.
“Jack, we all have flaws. Yours is a reckless streak that makes you very good at what you do.”
“Your point?”
She stopped and waited until he looked at her. “Your father is no doubt imperfect, but he loves you.”
The dark look got darker still and his blue eyes glittered with something dangerous. “And you got that from an observation?”
“No. I got it when he told you it’s been a long time.”
“I’m not following,” he said, shaking his head.
“That meant he’s missed you.”
“Oh, really?” He leaned forward.
“Yes, really. And when he said you’ve done well, that meant he’s proud of you.”
“I had no idea you were gifted in reading between the lines.”
“It’s easy to read between the lines when one isn’t emotionally involved,” she told him. She set her fork down on her empty plate.
“And you think I am?”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s your father. You love him and he loves you.”
“And you know this—how?”
“When you abruptly announced it was time to go, he tried to get you to change your mind.”
“Translation?”
“I love you. I’ve missed you. I’m not ready for you to leave so soon.”
He laughed, but the sound was bitter and harsh and completely humorless. “Not that I buy into such a lunatic theory,” he said, “but how do you know this?”
“My father.” She pushed her plate aside. “He used to tell me I looked like a college football quarterback and I found that fairly offensive as I prided myself on being feminine.”
“And doing a fine job.”
There was that gleam in his eyes again as he let his gaze boldly roam over her. Along with the compliment, it produced a warm glow in the wasteland of her heart. She wished she could blame the feeling on the wine, but that simply explained the buzz. This sensation was so much more. It was all that attention zeroed in on her. It was exciting. It was scary. It was a stepping-stone to heartbreak.
“I complained to my mother and she explained it was approval. That he was actually saying that I’m trim and fit.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Jack’s gaze lowered for a fraction of a second.
His attention was more than scary. It made her want to run but she wouldn’t because she’d be humiliated and Jack would win. She forced herself not to look away. “That’s when I started translating male speak,” she explained.
“Fascinating.”
“I’m convinced your father was trying to reach out—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He stood abruptly. “Did you leave room for pie? I had it made specially. Let’s have it in the sitting area.” He took one of the pieces on a dessert plate and walked over to the sofa.
And just like that the conversation was over. “All right.”
She took the other piece of pie and followed him. The suite, ironically enough, was decorated in the color of money. Thick jade carpet cushioned her bare feet and furniture covered in varying shades of green was arranged in a conversation area on one wall. Maddie sat on the sofa at a right angle to him and concentrated on eating her dessert.
“This is really delicious. Almost as good as my sister Susie’s. The whipped cream is to die for,” she said, closing her eyes. Memories of a past holiday flitted through her mind and she started to laugh.
“What?” Jack set his untouched pie on the table, then rested his arm on the end of the sofa.
“I was just remembering the time my mother caught us squirting the whipped cream straight from the can into our mouths.”
“A hanging offense if I ever heard one.” This teasing man was more like the New York Jack.
Relaxing, she set her plate with half the pie uneaten beside his, then curled up on the love seat. “It’s funny now, but my mother was not amused.” She rested her chin in her palm as she looked at him. “Do you remember what your favorite Christmas present was?”
He grinned. “A bike. Top of the line. I’d been lusting after it for months. Cut a picture out of a catalogue and hung it in my room. What about you?”
“A doll house. With furniture.” She sighed. “It was—”
“What?”
“You’ll think it’s silly.”
“No, I won’t,” he vowed. “Give me a chance to screw up before you make me guilty.”
“You’ve got a point,” she agreed. “Okay. It was that tweener time—”
“Excuse me?”
“That time between when you believe in Santa Claus and when you suspect the truth. I wanted to believe, but I’d heard the ugly rumors.”
“Gossip does spread.”
“I was like you and the bike, wanting that doll house so badly it was all I could think about. But I knew my parents couldn’t afford much that year. My sister got braces. We needed a new car. Money was tight.” And why was she spilling her guts? It wasn’t what she and Jack did. But she’d started this. “Anyway, I decided to go see Santa with my younger brother, Dan.”
“Dan was a believer?”
“Yeah. But he was intimidated by the beard and suit. I sat on Santa’s lap to coax him into it. Mom wanted a picture.”
“And you told Santa what you wanted?” he guessed.
“On the off chance that he was magic, I sort of whispered it in his ear.” She shrugged and self-consciously toyed with a strand of hair. “Pretty silly, huh?”
“On the contrary—” He reached over and put his hand on hers.
The touch was warm, strong, sweet, and stopped her heart. It could have been the wine, the buzz, or sharing a suite with Jack, but the feel of his hand on hers was like a punch to the gut and it took two deep breaths to get everything moving again.
That had never happened before.
“Did you get it?”
“What?” she asked.
“The doll house?”
“Oh. No. Anyway—” she eased her hand from beneath his “—tell me about your bike.”
“It was blue. And it didn’t come from Santa,” he teased.
“I knew you thought I was being silly. It’s very sad when you have to grow up.”
“It is, yes.” He looked at her, an odd expression on his face. “If you still believed, what would you ask Santa for this year?”
“Florence,” she said.
“Who?”
“Not who,” she said, laughing. “Italy. I’ve always wanted to go there.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure why. I’ve seen pictures, but I just have a feeling it’s one of those places you have to see with your own eyes.”
“Who knows? Maybe Santa will make it happen.”
“Maybe.”
When he smiled, the scary exciting feeling came back with a one/two punch. It was time to call it a night before she said something else she’d regret.
“I’m exhausted. Funny how sitting for hours on a plane can do that. I think the traveling has caught up with me.”
Amusement disappeared from his eyes, replaced by what looked like regret. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I shouldn’t have made you travel on Christmas. You had plans. With someone special?”
“Yes.” Not quite a lie; her friends were special. “But it’s okay. Actually, this turned out to be a nice holiday after all.”
The brooding look was back, as if he were remembering the ghosts of Christmas past. Quite frankly she’d never seen a man more in need of a hug.
He stood and held out his hand. When she took it, he tugged her to her feet and into his arms. They were pressed together from chest to knee and it felt really good. If he hadn’t looked so lonely, she might have been able to resist but she couldn’t help herself. She put her arms around his neck and held him close.
“No matter what you think,” she said, “your family was happy to see you.”
“I’ll take your word for that.”
She looked up and his eyes flared with something hot as his gaze settled on her mouth. Was he going to kiss her?
She held her breath, suddenly wanting to feel his lips on hers more than she’d ever wanted anything—including that doll house. But she didn’t dare toy with Jack.
He looked at her for a long moment, before lowering his head to settle his mouth on hers. One soft touch and her breathing went from zero to ragged in a heartbeat. He tightened his arms around her, fitting her body more closely to his, setting off sparks inside her. The needy moan trapped in her throat threatened to make her go up in flames. This was a place she’d never been before and didn’t want to ever leave.
But this was Jack. Her boss.
She would never know how she managed to find the willpower and presence of mind to pull her mouth from his and disentangle herself from his arms. “It’s time to turn in.”
That breathless, needy voice couldn’t really be hers, could it?
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Merry Christmas, Maddie.”
“Same to you, Jack.”
She hurried into her room and shut the door, heart pounding as if the devil were after her. The devil in the form of Jack Valentine? She’d certainly seen his dark side, a side she hadn’t known he had. A side she’d have been better off never finding out he had because she was drawn to it. The dark side was what made her hug him. And that led to…
She leaned against the door and pressed her fingers to her still-tingling lips. If only it hadn’t been a good kiss. But it was without a doubt the best kiss she’d ever had.
Now she hoped there wouldn’t be the devil to pay.
CHAPTER THREE
ALL Maddie had wanted was a dreamless sleep and to wake up and have the old Jack back. She hadn’t seen him yet, and she could say the same thing for sleep thanks to that kiss. After two years, why now? And what did it mean? Probably nothing. By sheer numbers, the women in his life proved that. Maddie wanted more. Jack teased her about the men she dated, but she’d never hear the end of it if he found out she was a virgin.
Her current state of purity had everything to do with crappy judgment in men. She’d fallen head over heels once, with a bad boy of course. She’d almost given him what she’d been saving for marriage but had found out just in time that he’d bet his buddies he could get her into bed. He’d lost the bet.
So now her taste in men leaned toward the ones who showed no obvious signs of bad boy-it-is—no earrings, tattoos or long hair. The problem was she didn’t want to sleep with any of them either. Up until last night, Jack hadn’t tempted her but she couldn’t let a nothing kiss change anything because he didn’t want a permanent relationship.
