скачать книгу бесплатно
“I’m going to tell them you had a medical emergency,” she said. “I’ll tell them you had to fly out suddenly—”
“Sorry, Rachel. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He walked over and stood in front of her, his smile dimming. “Why did you leave?”
“What?”
“In San Antonio. I woke up and found you gone.”
She turned away. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
He pulled her back around and took her by the shoulders, staring down at her with a gaze so hot it made her breath catch in her throat.
“One night wasn’t nearly enough. I don’t know why you left, but now that I’ve found you again, I don’t intend to let you go.”
“There’s nothing between us, Jack. That night meant nothing.”
“That night was absolutely explosive and you know it. Tell me you’ve had better sex somewhere else. Go ahead. Tell me.”
She swallowed hard. “I—I’ve had b-better sex somewhere…else.”
Well, those were the most unconvincing six words she’d ever spoken, and the tiny smile that came to his lips told her he knew it. Damn it.
“There are more important things in life than sex,” she said.
“It sure seemed to be at the top of your list that night in San Antonio.”
“I—I was drunk.”
“After one margarita?”
“I can’t hold alcohol.”
“You seemed plenty sober to me. I mean, if you’d been drunk, could you possibly have climbed up on that bathroom counter and—”
“Stop! Don’t say it!”
She shuddered out of his grip. God, she was going to die of embarrassment. Right here, right now.
His voice softened. “Why are you denying this? And why did you disappear?”
“Because that wasn’t me! The woman I was that night—she doesn’t really exist!”
“No, Rachel. Dr. Jack Kellerman, medical humanitarian, doesn’t exist. But the woman I knew in San Antonio—the woman I touched, the woman I kissed, the woman with more erogenous zones than I could count—she was very real.”
Rachel felt her cheeks flush red yet again. “Listen to me, Jack. Just because I took a side road one night doesn’t mean that’s the path I always travel. Or that it’s one I ever intend to go down again.”
“I see.” He nodded thoughtfully. “So you’re telling me that you don’t want any more of the best sex you ever had. For four days. At a ski resort. With a fireplace, a beautiful view…Yeah, I see your point. That would be a fate worse than death.”
“Stop it! Will you just stop it? I don’t want you coming with me!”
“Sorry, Rachel. You’ve made your bed, and now you’re going to lie in it.” He grinned. “But don’t worry. I’ll keep you company.”
Rachel remembered how spontaneous he’d been. How he’d teased and laughed and behaved in ways she’d found totally irresistible. It had all been very tantalizing when it happened between the sheets, but if he turned on those same characteristics full force around her coworkers and her boss, he could send her career up in flames. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Nothing. He knew her secret, so he held all the cards.
“What time do you get off work?” Jack asked her.
“I need to stay until six o’clock tonight.”
“Good. I’ll be back then.”
“You’ll be back? Why?”
“So we can go home together. Where is it we live again?”
She held up her palm. “No. No way. You’re not staying with me tonight.”
“This was a day trip to Denver for me,” he told her. “I haven’t got hotel reservations.”
“So make some.”
“But we’re supposed to be married. What would people think if they knew I was sleeping in a hotel?”
“No one will ever know.”
“Has it occurred to you that once we get to that resort, we’ll be sharing a room?” He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe even a bed?”
Rachel blinked with sudden realization. She hadn’t thought of that. And now that she did…
She’d had her choice of a king-size bed in her room, or two double beds. Of course, she’d reserved the king—she certainly didn’t need two beds. And how could she change it now? What woman wouldn’t opt for a king-size bed over two doubles when she was sharing a room with her husband?
“Seems to me that in light of that upcoming arrangement,” Jack went on, “my staying at your place isn’t a big deal. Then we can go to the resort together tomorrow.” He checked his watch. “Actually, I do have an appointment this afternoon, but I’ll be back here by six o’clock.” He opened her office door, then gave her a knowing smile. “Happy birthday, Rachel.”
He left her office and closed the door behind him. Rachel stared after him in total disbelief, then sank into her chair, put her elbows on her desk and dropped her head to her hands. Oh, Lord, what was she going to do now? For the next four days, she was stuck trying to control a powder keg by the name of Jack Kellerman, a powder keg that could explode at any moment.
She took a deep, calming breath. Okay. She had to focus here. Goal number one: Keep Jack’s identity a secret. Goal number two: Keep Jack’s body out of her bed. Goal number three: Keep Jack’s naked body out of her mind.
If she could pull off all three of those things, she just might escape from this outrageous situation with her career and her self-respect intact. If not…
Oh, boy.
She closed her eyes and promised God that if He’d just get her out of this one little pickle, she’d never tell a lie again.
4
AFTER LEAVING RACHEL’S office, Jack headed back to the Fairfax Hotel, where he met with the manager and got a tour of the place. Everything was as he’d expected it to be, and more. He called Tom, gave him some specifics, and told him to start working up a bid. Then he dropped the news that he wouldn’t be back to the work site for a couple of days. Tom had gone a little nuts over that, but this trip wasn’t negotiable. Business would keep.
Rachel wouldn’t.
He certainly hadn’t planned for things to go the way they had today, and he could hardly believe his luck. A four-day retreat? Sharing a room? And Rachel had to pretend he was her husband?
Did it get any better than that?
Okay. She clearly didn’t want him around. Or she thought she didn’t, anyway. But now he had four days to convince her otherwise. To put her into the same kind of atmosphere they’d experienced in San Antonio and see what might happen between them. If he could bring back just a glimmer of the connection he’d felt with her, it would all be worth it.
At the Fairfax, he begged for the use of a computer from the hotel manager’s secretary. He researched the Web sites of humanitarian groups who flew to other countries to offer medical assistance, committing buzz words to memory that he could use if necessary. Rachel would undoubtedly fill him in on information concerning what she’d told the people she worked with. Then he’d mesh the two together and come up with a profile he could use so he wouldn’t get tripped up. Even without the preparation, though, he wouldn’t have anticipated any problems in that regard.
After spending his entire childhood as the son of a petroleum engineer who was transferred every year or two, Jack had lived all over the United States and in several foreign countries. He’d been forced to give up friends, then turn right around and make new ones so many times that he’d become a master of the game.
At first it had been painful. Then he discovered the secret. If he made the other kids laugh, pretty soon he had them eating out of his hand. Life could be pretty dull, and the person who spiced things up was the person who had a list of friends as long as his arm. He sometimes felt that he could parachute into anyplace on the planet, and within two days he could have a party and invite twenty people who’d be happy to come. Consequently, he’d never met a situation in his life that he couldn’t talk himself into or out of, and this one would be no different.
After he finished his research, he went by a couple of downtown stores and picked up a few things. Ski equipment he could rent at the resort, but he needed enough clothes and other items to last him four days. He hadn’t planned on going on a buying spree, but as an independently wealthy doctor, shouldn’t he really look his best?
Then, at the appointed hour, he returned to Rachel’s office. Her attitude toward him hadn’t changed a bit. In fact, she acted so coldly toward him as they drove to her condominium that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see icicles forming on the inside of her car. Once they got there, she parked her car, strode inside and didn’t even bother to look back to see if he was following her or not. Jack just smiled. She couldn’t hold out forever. Sooner or later, the sweet, congenial, sexually insatiable woman he’d known in San Antonio would rise to the surface, and when she did, he’d be waiting.
Then he went inside her condo, and he wondered if maybe locating her wild side again would be a taller task than he’d imagined.
Her decor consisted of off-white carpet and off-white walls. Generic art that matched the drapes that matched the sofa that matched the chairs. Not a speck of dust anywhere or a statuette out of place. Dreary traditional furniture that looked as if nobody had ever sat on it. Her home looked like a place where a person twice her age might live—a person twice her age with a desire to freeze the pants off anyone who stepped foot inside it. It reminded him of the decor he’d seen at her office today—modern, efficient, practical, heartless. If he’d found just one cracked wall, a mismatched pillow, or even a family picture or two, he might have been able to feel comfortable.
No chance of that.
Did the same woman live here whom he’d shared the room with in the historic San Antonio hotel? The one with the leaky clawfoot tub and the four-poster bed? The one with the cracks in the walls? The one she said she loved the very smell of?
Impossible.
Rachel hung her coat in the front closet, then did the same with his.
“Have you eaten?” she asked him.
“No, but I’d be happy to take you out.”
She gave him a yeah, I’ll just bet you would look, then strode toward the kitchen. “I’ll order something.”
“Order?”
“I don’t cook. Not very often, anyway.”
“Then what do you eat?”
“Yogurt and granola for breakfast. A salad for lunch. Anything ready to microwave for dinner. Low fat, low cal.”
“How about a pizza?” he asked.
She winced. “I guess one without meat would be okay.”
“I was thinking pepperoni.”
Her lip curled, clearly showing her distaste. “Do you ever think of your arteries?”
“As little as possible.”
“I don’t blame you. They’re probably a real mess.”
“If you’ll remember, we ordered room service in San Antonio.”
She looked away. “So?”
“Steak and potatoes. Chocolate cheesecake for dessert. Extra whipped cream. In fact, as I remember, we talked the room service waiter into bringing us an entire can of whipped cream.” He grinned. “Amazing what you can do with one of those, isn’t it?”
Her cheeks flamed red all over again. She started to say something, then clamped her mouth shut, probably figuring that denial was pointless since she was the one who’d emptied most of the can.
She pulled open a kitchen drawer and grabbed a coupon. “Go ahead. Order pepperoni. Extra cheese. Stuffed crust. And why don’t you get a bunch of those bread sticks while you’re at it? The ones that you dip in garlic butter? That ought to really send the old cholesterol through the roof.”
He smiled. “Now you’re talking.”
She rolled her eyes with disgust. Slapping the coupon on the counter, she went into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Jack sighed and shook his head. He knew at heart she was a pepperoni pizza eater, but now was not the time to push the issue. He grabbed the phone, dialed the number of the pizza place and ordered a vegetarian supreme.
By the time the pizza got there and they ate, it was approaching eight o’clock. No matter how often he tried to start a conversation, Rachel rebuffed him at every turn. If she couldn’t stop him from coming to the resort with her, she clearly intended to make their time together as unpleasant as she possibly could. That was okay. He wasn’t blessed with an excess of virtues, but patience was one he had in spades.
After they finished eating, Rachel sent him to the living room, then cleaned up the kitchen. She then disappeared down the hall, brought back sheets, blankets and a pillow and lay them on the sofa. She returned to her bedroom. A moment later, he heard a shower running.
Well. So much for an evening of pleasant conversation. Or great sex.
Okay, the “great sex” thing had been a real long shot. But a guy could always hope.
Figuring he’d seen the last of her tonight, Jack located a TV behind the doors of an armoire. He pulled out the remote, ran the dial, stopped on a few things that he thought might be interesting only to find he really didn’t give a damn.
Finally he flipped the TV off, then got up and inspected her bookshelves, where he found all the latest titles of the day—Oprah picks, up-to-the-minute nonfiction, a few classics, a pristine coffee-table volume of modern architecture. On a wall next to the bookshelf hung two diplomas, indicating that she had both a bachelor’s degree and master’s degree in architecture from an institution he recognized as a prestigious women’s college.
Women’s college. He’d often wondered what kind of people went to a place for four years where they spent all day without ever setting eyes on a member of the opposite sex. He’d had a nightmare like that once. It wasn’t pretty.
Then he glanced down the hall and noticed a second bedroom. Guest room? Probably not, since he was sleeping on the sofa. Then again, she was out to punish him.
He walked quietly down the hall. The door was ajar. He pushed it open and peered inside.
A desk sat along one wall, a drawing board in the corner. More bookshelves. But the books they contained were hardly literary masterpieces or full of contemporary buzz. Most of them were history texts and books on architecture of all periods—ancient, medieval, eighteenth and nineteenth century—mostly used books with ragged covers. And the balance of the titles were fiction, mainly mysteries and romance.
Yes. This was more like it. He had the distinct impression that the books in the living room with the unbroken spines were the ones she showed to the world, while these tattered ones lived in her heart. Then he turned and got another surprise.
That day in San Antonio, they’d browsed through the Alamo gift shop, where he’d bought her a poster of an 1830s map of Texas. Here it was, matted, framed and hanging on the wall.
He remembered so clearly the time they’d spent there, perusing every document, every artifact. To find a woman with that kind of knowledge of the historical periods that fascinated him had pleased him to no end. That he was attracted to her in every other way possible made him feel as if he’d found the perfect woman. A soul mate, and he didn’t even believe in such things.
And then she’d disappeared.
“What are you doing in here?”
He spun around. Rachel was standing behind him, wearing a blue terry-cloth robe that gave a new meaning to the word frumpy. He knew a really hot body lurked under there somewhere, but he sure as hell couldn’t see it right now.
He shrugged. “Just looking around.”
