Читать книгу Not Strictly Business! - Susan Mallery, Susan Mallery - Страница 11

Samantha felt the light brush of his mouth on hers. She knew she could easily stop him by saying something or simply rolling off him. It was the sensible thing to do. And yet she found herself not wanting to move. Her recollection of her previous kisses with Jack, from that one extraordinary night they’d shared, were still vivid in her mind. She was confident that she’d inflated their impressiveness over time. A kiss now would allow for comparison.

When she didn’t move, he cupped her face with his hands and angled his head. Then he kissed her again, this time moving his lips back and forth. She felt heat and soft pressure. Blood surged in her body, making her want to squirm closer. She was already right on top of him, their bodies touching in so many interesting places, but suddenly that wasn’t enough. She needed more.

He moved his hands, easing them past her ears so he could bury his fingers in her hair. Then he parted his mouth and bit down on her bottom lip.

The unexpected assault made her breath catch. He took advantage of her parted lips and slipped his tongue inside.

It was like drowning in warm, liquid desire. Wanting crashed over her, filling every cell until it was all she could think of. His fingers still tangled in her hair, which made her impatient. She wanted him touching her … everywhere.

Even as he circled her tongue with his, teasing, tasting, arousing, her body melted. She felt herself softening, yielding, kissing him back with a desperation that made her the aggressor.

She took control of the kiss, following him back into his mouth, claiming him with quick thrusts of her tongue. At last he moved his hands to her back where he stroked the length of her spine. Her hips arched in an involuntary invitation, which brought her stomach in contact with something hard, thick and very masculine.

Memories crashed in on her. She remembered how he’d touched her and tasted her everywhere. She recalled the sight of him naked, of how many times he’d claimed her. She’d been sore for nearly two days, but the soreness had only reminded her of the incredible pleasure they’d shared and had made her want to do it again. But she’d resisted—because of who he was and what he could do to her heart.

She hated the logic filling her brain, the voice that asked what was different now. She wasn’t interested in danger or reality or anything but the way their bodies fit together. If she—

But an insistent barking distracted her and at last she lifted her head only to find Charlie’s nose inches from her face.

Below her, Jack groaned. “I’m going to have to have a talk with that dog.”

She became aware of their intimate position and the very public location. Without saying anything, she slid off him, then scrambled to her feet.

“We’re in the park,” she said more to herself than him. “In public.”

Jack rose more slowly. He reached down for the Frisbee and tossed it, all without looking away from her.

“I doubt anyone noticed,” he told her.

“Still.” She pressed her hands to her heated face. Talk about acting out of character. She had always been a strictly-in-bed, lights-off kind of date. The only exception to that rule … was standing right next to her.

Of course. She was fine as long as she resisted Jack’s particular brand of temptation, but if she gave in, even for a second, she completely lost her head.

“I, ah …” She glanced around, then returned her attention to him. “I’m, um, going to let you get back to your morning.”

His dark eyes glowed with passion. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s for the best.”

His mouth straightened. “Let me guess. This was a mistake.”

His tone of resignation caught her more than his words. He expected her to pull back because that’s what she always did. There were several good reasons, but he didn’t know them. If she had her way, he never would.

“Thanks for everything,” she said, trying to smile. “I’ll see you Monday.”

She hesitated, then walked away when he didn’t speak. A slight feeling of hurt surprised her. What did she expect? That he would come after her? Not likely after all the times she’d turned him down.

Jack watched her go. Once again Samantha was the queen of mixed signals. She had been from the beginning. Is that what made him want her? He never knew where he stood?

“Not exactly the basis of a great relationship,” he murmured, throwing the Frisbee again.

The good news was Samantha wanted him sexually. The truth had been there in her response. For some reason, she couldn’t handle the idea of it, but at least she didn’t find him repulsive.

Was it him in particular or would she have run from anyone?

But she still liked to run and a guy with a brain in his head would let her go. Funny how he’d always been smart, everywhere in his life but with her. What was it about her that made him want to keep trying? It wasn’t that he thought that they were soul mates. He didn’t believe in that sort of thing and he sure as hell wasn’t interested in a serious relationship. What was the point?

He was in it for the sex. Not a one-night stand. That wasn’t fun anymore. He liked to take a lover for a few months, make sure they were both completely satisfied, then move on when one or both of them got restless.

Somehow he doubted Samantha would be up for anything like that.

Which left him where? Wanting a woman who didn’t want him? There was a way to start the weekend. Okay, he was back to his original plan—forgetting about her as anything other than an employee.

Easier said than done, he thought as he remembered the feel of her body on his. But not impossible.

Jack reached for his coffee and cursed whoever had invented speakerphones and teleconferences. Spending an hour explaining to stock analysts and trade journalists how he had found a second set of books was not his idea of a good time.

“You’re sure the investigation into how this happened has already begun?” a disembodied voice asked.

“Of course. It started less than twelve hours after I found the books. It would have started sooner, but I couldn’t get an independent accounting team in here until morning.”

“You’re not using your regular accountants, are you?”

“No. No one who has ever been associated with Hanson Media Group is involved. As soon as we have a preliminary report, I’ll make it public. Until then, I don’t have any answers.”

“Do you think more people were involved than your father?”

Jack hesitated. “I don’t have any specifics on that, but my personal opinion in that my father acted alone.”

“Has his death been investigated? Are the company’s troubles the reason he died?”

The not-so-subtle implication that George Hanson had killed himself infuriated Jack. He spoke through gritted teeth. “My father died of natural causes. There was an autopsy. He didn’t kill himself.” And he would sue any bastard who reported otherwise, Jack thought. He might not have been close to the old man, but he wouldn’t let any member of his family be dragged through the press that way.

“Is the company going to make it?” someone asked.

Jack stared at the phone. In truth, he didn’t have a clue. He continued to ride the bad-news train, with a new crisis every day. From where he sat, he couldn’t imagine how this could be pulled off. In his opinion, it would take a miracle or a buyout for Hanson Media Group to survive, but he wasn’t about to tell them that.

“We’re going to come through this just fine,” he said, wondering if saying it would make it reality.

Samantha had spent much of the weekend giving herself a stern talking-to. Being afraid was one thing, but acting like an idiot was another. She had to pick a side—any side. Either she was interested in Jack romantically or she wasn’t.

She hated the mixed messages she sent every time they hung out together. She didn’t like that she had become that sort of woman. In truth, she found him sexy and funny and smart and pretty much everything any reasonable single female would want in a man. But he was also rich, powerful, determined and used to getting his way, which terrified her.

There were actually two different problems. First, that however much she told herself she wasn’t interested, that she only wanted a platonic relationship with him, her body had other plans. No matter how much her head held back, the rest of her was eager to plunge in the deep end and just go for it. The attraction was powerful and ten years after she’d first felt it, it didn’t seem to be going away.

The second problem was also a head-body issue. However much her head could intellectualize that Jack was nothing like Vance or her father, her heart didn’t believe. So she got close, he made a move, she reacted, then the fear kicked in and she bolted. It was a horrible pattern and short of never seeing him again in any capacity, she didn’t know how to break it.

Whoever said acknowledging the problem was half the battle had obviously never lived in the real world. Understanding what was wrong didn’t seem to move her any closer to solving it.

But solution or not, she owed Jack an apology and she was going to deliver it right now. Or in the next few minutes, she thought as she paced in front of his office. Mrs. Wycliff glanced at her curiously, but didn’t say anything. Finally Samantha gathered her courage and walked purposefully toward the door. She knocked once and entered, careful to close the door behind herself. She didn’t need any witnesses for her potential humiliation.

“Hi, Jack,” she began, before starting her prepared speech. “I wanted to stop by and—”

She came to a stop in the center of the room and stared at him.

He sat at the conference table, the speakerphone in front of him, notes spread out. He looked as if he’d received horrible news.

She hurried to the table. “What happened? Are you all right?”

He shrugged. “I’m fine. I had the phone call with several investors and some people from the street. It didn’t go well.”

Of course. The problems with Hanson Media Group. As if he weren’t dealing with enough from that, she was torturing him on weekends. How spiffy.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sinking into the chair across from his. “I’m guessing they had a lot of questions.”

“Oh, yeah. Plenty of suggestions, too. None of them especially helpful. But this is why they pay me the big bucks, right? So I can take the heat.”

Maybe. But Jack wasn’t interested in the money or the job. “Talk about a nightmare,” she murmured.

“One I can’t wake up from. But that’s not why you stopped by. What’s up?”

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry about what happened on—”

“Stop,” he said. “No apologizes required.”

“But I want to explain. It’s not what you think.”

He raised his eyebrows.

She sighed. “Okay. Maybe it is what you think. I’m having some trouble making up my mind about what I want. I’m working on that. The thing is, I don’t want you to think it’s about you. It’s not. It’s about me, and well, who you are. Which isn’t the same as it being about you.”

He smiled. “None of that made sense, but it’s okay. Let’s just forget it and move on. You didn’t like what happened and I’m okay with that.”

She started to tell him that she had liked him kissing her, but stopped herself. That wasn’t the point … at least she didn’t think it was.

“You push my buttons,” she admitted instead. “You have some qualities in common with my ex-husband.”

Jack winced. “Not the good ones, right?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Just my luck.” He glanced out the window at the view of the city. Rain darkened the horizon and made the lights sparkle. “Life would be a lot less complicated without relationships.”

“Not possible. Then we’d be nothing but robots.”

“Or just very sensible people. Like Vulcans.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure we should aspire to pointed ears.”

“But their philosophy—no emotion. I understand the appeal.”

“Too much pressure?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Too much everything. I remember when I was a lot younger. My brothers and I really got along. My father was busy with work, so there was just us and whatever nanny worked for him that month.”

“I’m guessing the three of you were a handful.”

He grinned. “Full of energy and imagination. It was an interesting combination. What I can’t figure out is when we stopped being a family. That’s David’s big complaint and he’s right. We don’t pull together. I want to blame my father, but that only works so long. The three of us are grown-ups. We need a new excuse.”

“Or maybe a way to change things. Would you like to be close to your brothers now?”

He nodded slowly. “Maybe together we could figure out how to fix this mess. But I can’t get Evan and Andrew to return my calls. When it’s time to read the will, I’ll have to drag them back here. It’s crazy.”

“But they will come back,” she said. “You could talk to them.”

“I don’t know what to say anymore. How sad is that?”

She had to agree it was pretty awful. If she had a brother or sister, she wouldn’t ever want to lose touch.

“Maybe if you talk to Helen,” she said without thinking. “She might have some ideas.”

Jack looked at her. “No, thanks.”

Samantha felt herself bristle. “What is it with you?” she asked. “Why won’t you even give the woman a chance? Name me one thing she’s done that you don’t approve of. Give me one example of where she screwed up big time.”

“I don’t have any specific events,” he said.

“Then what’s the problem? You said you trusted my opinion of her and were going to stop assuming the worst.” He made her crazy. Jack could be so reasonable about other things, but when it came to Helen, he refused to be the least bit logical.

“I don’t think the worst,” he said.

“You certainly don’t think anything nice. She’s pretty smart. Why don’t you talk to her about the business?”

“My father wouldn’t have told her anything.”

“How do you know?”

“He didn’t talk to anyone about the company.”

“To the best of your knowledge. Did it ever occur to you that he might have married her because she’s smart and capable? That maybe when things went bad, he talked to her.” She held up both hands. “I’m not saying I know anything. But neither do you. You treat Helen like she’s a twenty-one-year-old bimbo your father married because she had big breasts. It’s crazy. You have an asset there you’re not using.”

He looked at her. “You’re a very loyal friend.”

“Helen makes it easy to be. Will you at least think about what I’ve said?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

She was fairly sure she believed him. Jack had never lied to her. But why was this an issue in the first place? Why didn’t he already know his stepmother’s good points? Every family had secrets, but this one seemed to have more than most.

“It was just my mom and me,” she said. “I can’t relate to problems inherent in a large family.”

“Want to trade?” he asked, then grimaced. “I’m sorry. I know you and your mom were close. You must still miss her.”

She nodded, thinking she’d missed her most during the last few months of her marriage. When she’d wondered if Vance was really what she’d thought or if she’d been overreacting.

“We’d always had a special relationship,” she said, “but we got even closer after my dad left. There was something about worrying about our next meal that put things in perspective.”

“The man was a first-class bastard,” Jack told her. “You haven’t talked to him since?”

“He never wanted to talk to me. When I got older, I tried a few times, but eventually I gave up. He just wasn’t interested. I heard he passed away a couple of years after my mom.”

“I won’t say I’m sorry. Not about him.”

“I always think that things could have been different. I wasn’t interested in him for what I could get. I just wanted a relationship with my father. But he never understood that. Why do relationships have to be so complicated?”

“Not a clue.”

She stood. “Okay, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

She left, not sure if she’d made things better or worse between them. She had a feeling that the only way to really solve the problem was to make a decision one way or the other and stick to it. If she was going to keep things business only, then she should not go to his office to chat. If she was interested in something else, then she should do that.

Complications, she thought. Questions and no answers. At least her life was never boring.

Jack returned from his working lunch meeting with the vice president of finance to find his stepmother waiting for him in his office.

Helen smiled when she saw him. “I was in the neighborhood,” she said.

Under normal circumstances, he would have been polite and done his best to get her gone as quickly as possible. Since his last conversation with Samantha, he was curious to find out what Helen wanted.

He motioned to the leather sofa in the corner. Helen crossed the room and took a seat. He followed and settled in a club chair, then tried to figure out what was different about her today.

She was still pretty, blond and only a few years older than him. Not exactly a bimbo, as Samantha had pointed out, but still very much a trophy wife.

While she wasn’t dressed in widow’s black—did anyone still do that today?—she’d replaced her normally bright clothes with a navy tailored pantsuit. She’d pulled her hair back and, except for simple earrings and her wedding band, she seemed to have abandoned the heavy jewelry she usually favored.

“How are you doing?” he asked. “Is everything all right at the house?”

She frowned slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re alone in the house. I know it’s large and I wondered if you were coping all right.”

Eyebrows rose slowly. “You can’t possibly be concerned about me.”

He shrugged. “I’m asking.”

“Hmm. All right. I’m doing fine. Yes, the house is big and empty, but your father worked long hours, so I’m used to being there alone.”

Jack shifted in his seat and wished he’d never started the damn conversation in the first place. But he was already into it. “Are you, ah, sleeping?”

She sighed. “Not really. I still expect George to walk in and apologize for working late again. But he doesn’t.” She smiled. “Enough of my concerns. They’re not why I stopped by. I wanted to check on you. It’s been a difficult couple of weeks.”

“You’ve been reading the paper.”

“Several. There wasn’t a lot of mention in the national press, which is something, but we’re getting plenty of local coverage. I feel just horrible, Jack. I wish I could make this all better.”

So did he. “Did you know about the second set of books?”

He watched her as she spoke to see if she got uncomfortable, but her cool gaze never flickered.

“I didn’t. George didn’t talk about the business very much with me. I wanted him to. I was interested. But he just wasn’t one to do that. I do know that for the last year or so before he died that he was under a lot of stress. I had an idea there were problems with the company, but I had no idea they were this bad.”

He wanted to believe her. Right now he had enough bad news without thinking there was someone making trouble from the inside. Not that Helen worked for the company, but until the will was read, she controlled his father’s stock. Speaking of which …

“Do you know what’s in his will?” he asked bluntly.

“No. He never discussed that with me, either.”

“So what did you talk about?”

“Everyday things.” She crossed her legs. “Jack, I’m not the enemy here. I always thought things would be better if you, your father and your brothers could reconcile.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

She drew in a breath. “So you still don’t like me.”

“I don’t know you. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” she said, surprising him. “I wanted to get to know you and Evan and Andrew. I invited you all over several times. You were the only one to come.”

Jack remembered the lone uncomfortable dinner he’d attended. His father had spent the entire time telling him that his decision to go into the law instead of joining Hanson Media Group was foolish at best. That no good would come of it. Jack recalled walking out sometime between the salad and main course.

“He wasn’t an easy man,” he said.

“I know, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think he meant to be so difficult. He tended to see things one way.”

“His.”

“He wanted you to be happy.”

Jack grimaced. “He wanted me to run his company, regardless of what I wanted.”

“Here you are,” she said softly.

“Lucky me.”

“I wish things were different,” she said. “I wish he weren’t dead. Not just for me, but for you. I wish you didn’t have to do this.”

“There isn’t anyone else,” he reminded her. “I’m stuck.”

“You’re the best choice. I’m sorry this is taking you away from what you love but the company is important, too. We all have to make sacrifices.”

“Not from where I’m sitting. So far it’s a sacrifice committee of one. I wish I knew what was in the will. Maybe he left everything to you and I can screw up enough that you’ll fire me.”

She shook her head. “Don’t hold your breath on that one. George was always interested in surprising people. I doubt he wrote a boring will.”

He believed that. “If he left the company to me, I’m selling.”

She stiffened. “Just like that? Your father gave his life to this company.”

“I know that better than anyone, except maybe you.”

“I loved him, which means I can forgive his flaws.”

The implication being Jack should do the same.

He wanted to ask her how that was possible. How could she give her heart to a man who made sure she always came in second. But he didn’t. There wasn’t any point. People who were supposed to love you left, one way or the other. Some disappeared into work or circumstances. Some walked away and some died. But at the end of the day, everyone was alone. He’d learned that a long time ago and he didn’t plan to forget it.