CHAPTER EIGHT
JACK WAS STILL WIRED after he said good-night to Mallory. His cold shower had done even less for his disposition than his state of arousal and sleep was impossible. He couldn’t think of a damn thing except Mallory tossing and turning in the bed across the hall from his. Just because they had both agreed to part company before things went any further he didn’t have to like it. He tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed.
Edgy and frustrated, he figured he might as well put his restless energy to use and get some work done. Hanging out at the bar and making small talk with the bartender might give him some insight into Paul Lederman. The elusive client. He pulled on a pair of jeans and an old University of Michigan sweatshirt, then took the elevator downstairs.
Jack glanced at his watch and was surprised at how late it actually was. At a summer resort the bar would normally be hopping, but last call had been half an hour ago and the place had emptied out. As he made his way inside the room, he realized he hadn’t been the only one who couldn’t sleep. His associate had the same idea of hanging out with the bartender, only Mallory had cozied up to him in a way Jack never could.
Apparently playing the helpless woman at the pool table had gotten her close to the surly guy. Close in a way Jack didn’t like at all. He clenched his hands into fists as he watched Mallory, dressed in form-fitting jeans, lean over the pool table so the bartender, a blond-haired surfer type, could press up behind her and correct her form.
She tossed her hair back and laughed at something the bartender whispered in her ear. Jack’s gut clenched with jealousy. A foreign emotion for him when it came to women. A shocking one when it came to Mallory. He’d been with attractive women before, eager women, women he’d actually had sex with, but he’d always been able to cut them loose with no regrets or second thoughts.
So why with this woman? The one he worked with, who could jeopardize his career with one whisper. Perhaps it was the forbidden that attracted him, since their rendezvous could only be conducted in secret. Maybe it was the excitement of the chase, the challenge she posed that intrigued him so. As his body, still strung tight, reminded him, it could also be the lack of closure to the relationship that tugged at his gut.
He couldn’t put her behind him. Not yet, anyway. It was time he stepped up the challenge.
He strode forward into the light surrounding the pool table. “Mind if I join the game?”
At the sound of his voice, Mallory groaned while the bartender turned his head to acknowledge the intrusion. “Bar’s closed,” he said.
Jack leaned an elbow on the wooden edge of the table and nodded at Mallory. “She looks like a customer to me.”
Mallory narrowed her gaze and shot him a scathing glance.
“She’s a guest of the house. You can come back tomorrow night. Drinks on the house.” The bartender turned his concentration back to Mallory, or rather, to her waist. He gripped his hands around the bare skin of her midriff, where her shirt had drifted upward.
Anger Jack hadn’t experienced in ages rushed to the surface along with another memory—of coming home early from school at age fifteen to find a stranger and his mother exiting the bedroom she shared with Jack’s father, the stranger’s hands on his mother’s waist as he helped her snap her pants closed.
But unlike his mother, Mallory didn’t giggle and lean closer. She stiffened and would have moved away but for the pool table in front of her and the bartender’s strong arms holding her in place. Whatever her earlier act, she was obviously through with the man now.
“Doesn’t look like she wants to be that kind of a guest.” Jack spoke through clenched teeth.
Sparks flashed in Mallory’s blue eyes, emotion and anger aimed at him. “She can speak for herself.”
She turned her gaze to the bartender and fluttered her lashes in a gesture Jack had never witnessed from Mallory before. “Looks like my friend doesn’t know when a lady’s playing hard to get, Jimmy,” she said in a lazy drawl. But she casually moved his hand away from her waist.
“You know this guy?” The bartender jerked a finger Jack’s way. From the sneer on the man’s face, Jack figured any hope he’d had of gleaning information about Lederman was long gone.
“We work together.” Mallory let out a long-suffering sigh and took a step back from Jimmy, tripping over his sneakered feet and nearly toppling to the floor in the process. Jack tried to reach for her at the same time as the bartender but she lunged onto the pool table and steadied herself first.
“Oops.” She let out an un-Mallory-like laugh. “Those darn Long Island Iced Teas.” She batted her eyelashes again and glanced at Jack. “Did you know they have a drink named after this area? Well sort of this area. Long Island Iced Tea. He makes them extra special,” she said, smiling at the bartender. “Think I can have the recipe?”
“I think you’ve had enough.” Jack had no doubt she wasn’t drunk, just trying to keep the bartender off balance and intrigued. He stepped forward and grabbed her elbow before his competition could get to Mallory first.
“Don’t you think the lady can decide when she has or hasn’t had enough?” the bartender spoke.
Mallory bestowed her sweetest smile upon him. “A man who respects a lady’s mind. I like that.”
“Did you forget our early morning meeting?” Jack asked pointedly. “With Mr. Lederman?” He tossed Jimmy’s employer’s name into the mix and got the reaction he’d hoped for.
Jimmy stiffened. “You work with Lederman?”
Mallory clenched her jaw, clearly unhappy with Jack invading her territory. “He’s considering using my firm. I thought I mentioned that.”
“Before or after you pumped me for information?”
Mallory shrugged and smiled sweetly. “I’m a people watcher by nature. You wouldn’t hold that against me, would you? Tell you what, why don’t we meet up again when he’s not around?” She elbowed Jack in the side.
Jack stifled a grunt but before he could speak, the bartender shook his head. “The boss’ll have my head for consorting with the guests,” he muttered. “Not that he wouldn’t appreciate your charms himself but I need this job.”
“Smart move,” Jack said, making note of his reference to Lederman’s taste for the ladies.
Jimmy scowled. “She’s all yours, buddy.”
“I’m not anyone’s,” Mallory muttered. “Especially his.”
Jack grinned. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying, do you sweetheart?”
The bartender cursed beneath his breath and headed back to the bar to clean up for the night. Obviously he didn’t like the idea of Jack getting the better of him, but when he put his testosterone aside, he knew his job came first.
Jack turned to his colleague. “Time to get you upstairs.” Without waiting for a reply he lifted her into his arms and over one shoulder. “See ya around,” he called out to the bartender who was still cursing and nursing his wounded pride.
Jimmy glanced over and caught sight of Jack’s caveman routine and Mallory’s flailing fists. He laughed hard. “Maybe you’re not so bad. You come by tomorrow,” he said to Jack. “Drinks are still on the house.”
Mallory punched helplessly at Jack’s back until the last shot hit a kidney.
Jack grunted. “You got it,” he called. “Maybe we can compare notes.”
“Put me down,” Mallory yelled at him.
The bartender laughed again. Jack left the bar and made a quick right to the bank of elevators. He had no desire to cause a scene in the lobby.
Once inside the private elevator, he deposited Mallory on her feet.
“Just in time.” She pulled down on her shirt and glared at him.
“I know.” Right before he’d freed her, he’d felt her soft hands inching inside the waistband of his jeans searching for the elastic on his underwear.
He burst out laughing. “An older brother teach you that dirty trick?”
She shook her head. “I’m an only child. And you were this close to singing soprano.” She held her thumb and forefinger together.
“I’d have to be wearing underwear for that weapon to work.”
Her eyebrows arched in surprise and her blue eyes darkened with the possibility he was telling the truth.
He leaned back against the chrome and mirrored wall.
A grin formed on her lips as she stepped closer. “Prove it.”
“What?”
Her fingers reached for the snap on his jeans as his breath caught in anticipation and desire. “You said no underwear. I want you to prove it.”
His groin, free from constraints except for the hard denim wanted to do just that, but he held on to her wrists and met her gaze.
Her face was inches from his, her warm breath with barely a hint of alcohol rushed over his skin.
“How’d you keep surfer boy’s hands off you?” he asked.
She tilted her head to the side. “Are you jealous? I admit he has a great body and a gorgeous tan, but…”
That did it. Jack silenced her with a kiss. It started slow but quickly blazed out of control. His tongue, her tongue, his groan, her heartfelt sigh—he couldn’t tell the difference as they melded together. Like a dying man at an oasis, he drank from her, taking all she offered, all she had to give. And he gave back in kind, until they parted, coming up for air.
Her dazed blue eyes opened wide. “You were jealous.”
He sucked in a deep breath of air. “Not a chance, sweetheart.” But his thudding heart called him a liar. He stepped back and contemplated her. “So how’d you keep the bartender talking and not groping?” He grasped for mundane conversation, anything to give him time to regain his equilibrium.
“I sat next to a huge potted plant in the corner, ordered drinks, nursed them while I inflated his ego, dumped them when he served other customers.”
He grinned. “You are something.”
She averted her eyes. “Why haven’t the doors opened yet?”
He glanced around for the first time and realized neither of them had pushed the button for their floor.
He punched in the button for the fifth floor. The mechanism kicked into gear and they began their ascent. “Elementary.”
“Then how come neither one of us thought of it?”
He reached out and fingered a strand of her hair. “Because we were distracted?”
“By your caveman routine. Which reminds me, don’t you ever carry me anywhere again.”
“Or what?” The doors opened and he escorted her out of the elevator, his hand on her back.
She paused to turn and meet his gaze. “I’ll have to teach you a lesson, of course.” Laughter danced in her eyes.
“Of course you would.” And he’d get himself another invitation. He hoped. “Give me your key. I’ll help you get the door.”
Her expression turned wary.
“Friends help friends, okay?”
She reached into her pocket.
“Let’s meet up for breakfast and discuss what you learned about Lederman. He left a message saying he’ll be back the day after tomorrow and I’d like to be prepared.” Although Jack was frustrated by the continued delay, part of him was grateful for the extra time alone with Mallory that Lederman’s absence provided.
“Can we make it lunch? I’m beat.” She pressed her card key into his palm.
“Sure thing.” Then, knowing exactly how she’d respond, he picked her up once more and tossing her over his shoulder, headed for her door.
She didn’t fight him. Instead she ran her fingers through his hair. “You’ll pay for that,” she murmured.
“That’s what I was hoping for.”
* * *
THANKS TO MALLORY, Jack awoke early, something that was becoming a habit on this pseudo-vacation. After carrying her into her room and depositing her on the bed, he’d stayed for one lingering good-night kiss before making himself scarce.
But part of him wished they’d never met up at the hotel bar last night. Both the jealousy and caveman routine were foreign to him. He hadn’t recognized the blatant anger or possessive feelings Mallory aroused in him. Even as he’d realized her intent was to gain information from the bartender, the primal urge to carry her out and make an ass of himself had taken over.
After a long morning workout and soothing shower, Jack headed for the restaurant to meet Mallory. He took what had become his usual seat in the café, ordered black coffee, and rubbed a hand over his face, wondering when sanity would return.
When he caught sight of her talking with the hostess, he realized the answer was a resounding never. Jack was destined to live in this perplexing, arousing hell created by one Mallory Sinclair.
This morning she’d exchanged her navy dress for a gray one, and the bun for a clip that held her hair away from her face in an equally severe style.
He shook his head. Jack saw Mallory’s beauty inside and out, and his desire was no longer diminished by her deliberately harsh daytime appearance, yet his level of frustration with her duality grew.
Few male heads turned as she made her way to his table, and though Jack took pleasure in the fact that only he knew Mallory the seductress, a perverse part of him wanted other men to envy him for having this incredible woman by his side. He found himself wishing she’d show herself for the sensual woman she really was.
He was determined to find out the reasons behind the change.
True, she wanted to make partner in their male-dominated firm and saw downplaying herself as the means. And considering the old guard distrusted women and only grudgingly gave Mallory their respect, Jack understood. But he didn’t have to like it. She deserved to be acknowledged for her abilities and accepted as the woman he knew her to be—nothing hidden, nothing feigned.
Although why he cared so much about how she chose to handle herself, her appearance and career remained a mystery to him. So did the reasons she kept up the charade here and now.
“Hi.” As she slid into the chair across from him, the desire to free her hair and watch it spill over her shoulders grew stronger.
“Hi, yourself.”
She set her bag down by her side. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”
He slid his freshly poured, untouched cup across the table. “Go ahead, it’s on me.”
She treated him to a grateful smile, one that transformed her face with an ethereal glow and put light into her eyes. He wondered if he was the only one who could see beyond the heavy black frames to the sparkling blue gaze beneath.
“No contacts today?” he asked.
“Nope.” She shook the napkin out and placed it in her lap.
“Because it’s daytime.”
“Correct. What are you having for breakfast?”
“An omelette.” He didn’t want her to change the subject before he could dig deeper. “Would you wear contacts if you were on vacation?”
She shrugged. “I’m not on vacation, I’m working.”
“No one here is from the office.” He gestured around the tourist-filled room.
“Except you.” She gave him a penetrating glare.
Both the look and the point grated. “So you trust my silence for whatever happens between us at night, but you don’t trust me during the day?”
Mallory let out a long-suffering sigh. “You miss the point. No one else from the office is here, but Lederman is due back soon and he’s unpredictable enough to show up unexpectedly. He works with the higher-ups and would probably love to talk. Then there’s Mrs. Lederman. Though she’s accommodating now, she can turn any time when she realizes it’s in her best interest.”
“And last night’s show?”
She dropped her shoulders in resignation. “I wanted information but I won’t risk going out in public like that again.”
Jack hated to admit she had valid points, only because it meant suffering through the torment of waiting till evening to see his Mallory again. With the ball in her court, he had no idea if or when he would see her again.
Frustration filled him. “Omelette for you, too?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Pancakes with a side order of bacon. A glass of orange juice. Oh, and coffee, please.”
The waitress, who had made her way over, jotted down their orders, then took the menus back from Mallory.
“Worked up an appetite last night, did you?” he asked.
Mallory pursed her lips, obviously wanting to smack him in his inflated ego. Jack grinned, enjoying teasing her and knowing she wouldn’t stay mad long. He waited for her carefully worded barb.
“Being carried off by a macho male has that effect on me,” came out of her mouth instead. A blush crept onto her cheeks at the unexpected omission. “And the coffee’s for you.”
He let out a loud laugh and the people at the neighboring table turned to look. She narrowed her eyes and glared, but instead of sobering, the more frustrated she got, the harder he chuckled.
“Can I help it if that scene you made brought out the worst in me?” Jack stopped laughing. His feelings last night were no joke.
“I had no idea you’d show up.”
“But once I did, you enjoyed it.” His stare never wavered.
“Maybe for a minute.” She bit down on her lower lip and leaned closer. Her honest blue eyes bore into his. “And only because I thought that jealousy bit was an act,” she said.
Surprise at her admission caught him off guard. His self-confident colleague had turned into a vulnerable woman. He’d never have believed it if he hadn’t heard her say so out loud.
He leaned closer, too, until their lips were inches apart and their breaths mingled. “That was no act.”
“At some point I realized that. But I never thought you’d react that way about me.”
“I sure as hell didn’t expect it either. Not at first glance.”
She tipped her head to the side, a serious expression crossing her face. “I appreciate the honesty.”
“Good. But I’m not finished yet.” Unable to get closer as she physically withdrew across the table, he grabbed for her hand instead. “I wasn’t jealous only because I’ve seen the seductress in you. I was jealous because I’m intrigued by you. By all of you.”
Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.
“Care to tell me why you wouldn’t think I’d be interested enough to get jealous?”
Considering the physical sensations that arced between them, Jack couldn’t understand why she’d doubted the sincerity and strength of that emotion.
She shrugged, then said simply, “Because no one’s ever reacted possessively with me.”
“Then I’d have to say you’ve had a string of stupid men in your life.”
She grinned. “And I’d have to agree with you.”
He tightened his grip around her smaller hand. “This inability to see yourself as you should—that comes from where?” Because no woman deliberately dressed herself down and downplayed such incredible looks without a damn good reason.
Her lips shut as if she could stop the truth from coming out by sheer willpower alone.
“Bad relationship?” he hazarded a guess.
“Bad upbringing,” she shot back, then opened her eyes wide at the realization that things were finally out in the open between them.
“Go on.” He sat back and waited, but didn’t release her hand, knowing their emotional connection could only be strengthened by physical touch.
“First I was an accident, then I was a disappointment. My father wanted a boy. He got me instead.” As she spoke, the light in her expressive eyes dimmed. “Over time I learned not to expect too much.”
“And your parents never delivered.”
“Right.”
He shook his head, anger and frustration filling him at two people who’d created a child and then proceeded to negate her sense of self-worth. He’d at least had his father behind him. Mallory had had herself—and she’d managed to chart her own destiny.
In Jack’s mind, she’d taken the wrong course. Hiding herself couldn’t make her happy for long, but only she could realize that truth. If he happened to nudge her in the right, sensual direction, he’d be happy to help her out. Not just for selfish reasons but because she deserved to experience all life had to offer—and not see those wonderful things skewed behind thick, oblique lenses.
“Your parents were wrong, you know.”
She shrugged, but her intense stare told him she was listening.
He wondered if she believed him and made it his mission to be sure she was paying attention. “And it’s their loss—missing out on you.”
Her eyes filled with moisture, gratitude evident. She inhaled a shaky breath. “Thanks again. Truth’s a wonderful thing and I don’t hear it much.”
An emotional lump formed in his throat. “When I’m with you, my body tells you exactly how I’m feeling. What’s the point in lying now?” As if by suggestion, he shifted in his seat to alleviate the sudden discomfort in his groin.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a nice guy?” Her lips lifted upward in a grin that warmed him and chased away the chill that had always surrounded his heart.
He shook his head. “I’ve never given anyone reason before.”
Mallory struggled to calm her pounding heart. This connection between them was growing stronger. She felt it.
She wanted to run from it but didn’t dare. Talking past her emotions wasn’t easy but she owed Jack for easing a huge burden she’d always carried with her. “About the jealousy bit?” She changed the subject back to last night. “I didn’t enjoy the act.”
In fact, the bartender’s sweaty palms and let-me-show-you-a-good-time attitude had turned her off from the beginning. Only her search for information had kept her rooted in her seat and had forced her to allow his unwanted attention.
“I didn’t want him touching me.” She gazed at Jack through heavy eyelids. “I wished it was you.”
His skin drew tight over his cheekbones as awareness raced between them. “I appreciate you returning the favor,” he said finally.
She knew he was referring to her honest answer and nodded. She’d give him even more honesty later. Because this conversation had proven to her without a doubt—she wasn’t finished with Jack Latham.
“Now, care to tell me what you uncovered about Lederman?” Jack lowered his voice.
Grateful for normal conversation, Mallory looked around. The restaurant had grown more crowded and a low hum of voices droned on around them. They could easily talk in hushed tones without being overheard, or so she thought until she turned toward the hostess station.
Mallory let out a groan. “I wish I could, but Alicia Lederman’s doing the rounds of the tables, talking to customers.”
“Food’s up.” The waitress arrived with their plates, giving them yet another reason to postpone talking business.
He let out an equally frustrated sound. “Guess we’ve got to wait.”
Mallory nodded and reached for her fork. Since this trip, she’d gotten good at waiting.
And even better at anticipation.
She finished her meal in record time, hunger for food satisfying one craving, while her need for Jack only grew.
* * *
JACK HAD PROMISED to wake Mallory from a late-afternoon nap but calls to his secretary and another client took longer than he’d expected. By the time he left the conference room Lederman had given him for business use and made his way back to their floor, Jack realized she was probably out sightseeing or walking on the beach. But he figured he’d give waking her a shot anyway, just in case.
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Rise and shine.” He knocked on her door.
“You looking for the Missus in the room?”
Jack turned.
A chambermaid stood behind him, an armload of towels in hand. “I saw her leave a little while ago.”
His disappointment was keen. For no good reason, he knew, because he had no concrete plans—just a burning desire to see her again. And he couldn’t control the disappointment building inside him, because after their bonding session she’d thought nothing of disappearing without leaving him a message.
“Are you sure it was her? Dark hair, blue eyes.”
“I’m sure. She asked me for fresh towels and…” The dark haired woman shook her head. “Never mind. Other folks’ strange requests aren’t my business.”
He didn’t question her further. “Well, I appreciate the information.”
She smiled. “No problem. You have a nice day.” She let herself into Mallory’s room carrying the towels and Jack began a retreat back into his own.
“Wait.”
He turned back.
“I didn’t realize you were the gentleman across the hall. She…” The woman pointed to Mallory’s door. “She left something for you. I was going to leave it on your bed when I finished inside. Wait here.”
She strode to her utility cart and returned with a white sheet of paper in one hand, an innocuous brown bag in the other. “These are for you.”
“Thanks.” His pulse picked up rhythm as he lifted the paper and inhaled the fragrant scent. Arousal hit him harder and stronger than ever before. So did the sense of anticipation.
One part of him knew she was answering his challenge from last night. Another part of him sensed she was responding to their new-found closeness today. He’d never experienced such intense feelings for another person—never wanted to make someone else feel better and ease their pain—until Mallory.
The thought scared him spitless so he focused on the invitation instead. Waiting until he was alone in his room, he peered into the bag and pulled out the bottom half of a string bikini, too skimpy to cover anything at all.
His mouth went dry and he opened the sheet of paper and read aloud. “Our cabin at eight. Come for a romp on my beach.” He fingered the nylon strings in his hands. He could come right now, he thought wryly.
A vision came to him, of Mallory wearing the matching top, nothing below. Jack broke into a sweat. He shook his head. No way would she have the nerve. Then he remembered she’d already gone skinny-dipping. She had also revealed her deepest emotions. Her nerve was greater than he’d realized.
The next couple of hours loomed long in front of him, but no doubt that was her intent. To leave him with the flimsy bottoms and lots of time on his hands to think.
And fantasize.
By the time eight o’clock rolled around, Jack was in a heated state of need. And by the time he arrived at the cottage door, his hands were shaking.
The woman knew how to drive him mad with suggestion and innuendo. If he believed in relationships, he’d think he’d found a woman who could engage and entice him, keep him interested for a lot longer than one night.
Good thing he didn’t believe or he’d be in deep trouble. Jack raised his fist and knocked on the door.