A Match Made by Cupid (Harlequin Special Edition) (11 page)

What would those two things do to a child growing up? What would they do to the woman that child became? Jace couldn’t really say. Not for sure. His family life had been rock-solid, so his life experience was vastly different from Melanie’s.

But hell, it was no wonder she didn’t trust men.

He hurt for her. For the child she’d been and for the woman he knew today. And, yes, the caveman in him wanted to find her father and pound some sense into him. But that was an action that needed to be taken twenty years ago. Doing so now would be pointless.

Jace exited the car and followed in Melanie’s footsteps, his mind circling endlessly. He couldn’t go back two decades to change what had already occurred, and he couldn’t repair the damage that had already been done. But he had to do something. Every part of him screamed with the necessity of doing
something
.

God help him, he wanted to be exactly what she told him she didn’t need: her hero. And, he realized as he reached his office, he’d never wanted to be anyone’s hero before.

So what the hell did that mean?

Chapter Seven

M
elanie hunched over her laptop and read through the draft of her column for the third time. While the piece wasn’t due for a few more days, she had this itchy, almost uncomfortable sensation that it had to be perfect. No surprise given the fact she was nearly fired a week ago.

Would’ve been, if not for Jace. Warm tingles sped along her skin. She stole a glance toward Jace’s office and lifted her hand to touch her forehead. He’d kissed her there yesterday, almost casually, as if doing so was the normal state of affairs between them. It should have ticked her off or at the very least sent her scurrying back to her side of his car.

Instead, she’d felt warm and safe and—underneath her crazy mix of emotions—electrified. So electrified that the yearning to lean in closer, to put her lips on his and steal a real kiss, came over her. She hadn’t, of course. That would have been really crazy, but the thought…and the yearning…hadn’t subsided.

He’d been so easy to talk to, and he’d listened. Really listened to what she had to say, even though she’d likely sounded a little off her rocker. It was confusing. How could the writer of “Bachelor on the Loose” be the same man she was beginning to know? Jace Foster played with women, took advantage of them—even if they knew what they were getting into when they went out with him—and, as far as she could tell, was nowhere close to stopping.

Yet her intuition told her to look beyond the surface. That maybe, just maybe, Jace was a heck of a lot more than she’d assumed.

Which was also nuts. How many women believed that about a man, only to find they were dead wrong? Based on the letters she received for her advice column, a hell of a lot.

Sighing, Melanie returned her attention to the column, reading through the first letter and her response again. The writer, a woman who’d been married for three years, stated that her once-passionate husband seemed to have lost all interest in sex. Melanie wanted to tell the woman that it was likely hubby hadn’t lost interest in sex at all, but that he’d found a new playmate.

Naturally, she couldn’t do that. Instead, she encouraged the wife to talk to her husband, to tell him how she was feeling, and to be honest about how his disinterest affected her. Then, if that didn’t work, to try changing their routine by spicing up the bedroom a bit. She left it up to the woman as to what that might entail, because Dr. Ruth, Melanie was not.

The answer worked, as did her responses throughout the rest of the column. If Kurt found anything objectionable, she’d be surprised. She glanced toward Jace’s office again, and that balmy, almost liquid sizzle returned. She’d barely seen him today. They hadn’t yet discussed yesterday’s interviews, either.

Hmm. Maybe she should have him look over the column, just to be sure. There was nothing wrong with that. She was being nice, that was all. Letting Jace know that she appreciated his trust in her, but also respected him enough to not chance his risking his job.

Melanie printed the column before she could talk herself out of her lame argument. She knew her work hit the acceptable level. If she dissected her reasons for going to Jace, she’d end up changing her mind. And she really wanted to see him.

Grabbing the sheets of paper, she went to Jace’s office and peeked in. His elbows were planted on his desk, his head bent toward his laptop and his expression one of intense concentration. Suddenly feeling foolish, she started to step away at the same second he looked up. Dark-chocolate eyes landed on her, warmed and the barest hint of a smile touched his lips.

Why did he have to be so dang appealing?

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, focusing on keeping her voice clear and her gaze steady. “I… You look busy. I can come back later.”

“One, you’re never a bother, Mel.” He raked his fingers through his shaggy hair, an action she was beginning to notice he did quite often, and then gestured for her to enter. “Two, I could use a break. What’s up?”

Stopping just shy of the chairs flanking his desk, she held out the printed pages of her column. “I was wondering if you could review this? I worried nonstop last week that there would be a problem, and I’d, um, just feel better if I had a second opinion this week.”

Surprise and relief colored his expression. She’d expected the surprise, but the relief annoyed her. Just a little. Still, he hesitated before agreeing. “You’re sure?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to do this. We have an agreement.”

“I’m sure. Besides, you also have an agreement with Kurt. I’d say that trumps ours,” Melanie said, going for levity.

“
Nothing
trumps anything to do with you.”

Her annoyance evaporated. “That’s…nice, but you shouldn’t have to worry about your job over this. I was upset last week and…” She shrugged off the rest of her statement, not ready to admit her opinion of Jace wasn’t quite the same as it had been a mere seven days earlier. She placed the printed sheets on Jace’s desk. “So, there you go. Let me know what you think.”

He slid the papers over to him. “Give me a sec. I’ll read this now.”

Oh. She hadn’t expected that. “Okay. Sure.”

It didn’t take him long. When he finished, he glanced up. “This is great, Mel. No man-hating verbiage at all.”

“Whew,” she said with a grin. “Guess I’m learning something.” And then, because she wasn’t quite ready to leave, she continued with, “I listened to your interviews last night.”

“Yeah? What did you think?” Jace leaned forward, every ounce of his attention on her. “Are you a believer yet?”

“No.” Maybe?
No.
“But if we have to pick a couple from those we talked with, there are three I like. Geoffrey and Veronica, the couple with the bride deploying and the couple expecting a baby. Even though I think they are far too young.”

“Right. Well, we didn’t set age limitations,” Jace teased. “But if you had to pick just one of them, who would it be? I’m curious if we’re on the same wavelength.”

She hesitated, thinking it over. “I’d choose Geoffrey and Veronica in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for the fact that he couldn’t even take a full day off of work for their wedding.” Melanie shook her head, feeling the same frustration she had when they’d talked with the couple.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think that statement came from a romantic.” Jace’s lips twitched in the makings of a grin. “You’re sure you haven’t become a believer when I wasn’t looking?”

She resisted the childish impulse to stick out her tongue. “If you’re going to get married, at least show the day some honor. That’s all I meant.”

“You have a point, but think about every word that was said.” Jace angled his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Veronica mentioned they’d recently opened their own business. New businesses take a lot of focus to be successful. Perhaps they’d scheduled the wedding for yesterday, and these meetings came up at the last minute.”

“Still bothers me,” Melanie said, even though she agreed with Jace’s take. “But, yeah, I guess they’d be my first choice.”

“Good. Mine, too.” Jace nodded toward a chair. “You can sit down, you know.”

“I have to get back to work, but hey, we’re one-third of the way through. That’s good news.” Even as Melanie spoke, her stomach dipped in disappointment. When the assignment was over, so was her one-on-one time with Jace. Since when had that become a bad thing? “Maybe we’ll finish this up quicker than I thought.”

“Not so fast, Speedy Gonzalez.” Jace twirled his pencil and grinned. “I like Geoffrey and Veronica, but I think we should plan on one more day of interviews at the courthouse before making a final decision. Maybe on Friday.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment vanished. “Okay, sure. Friday works.”

“And I might have a few interviews set for next week. One is with a couple who have been married for fifty-two years. They have five children,
twelve
grandchildren, and, if I’m remembering correctly, a few great-grandchildren, as well.”

She blinked, trying to imagine a relationship so solid that it lasted for fifty-plus years. She couldn’t. And because she couldn’t, she went for sarcasm, saying, “Don’t they know about birth control?”

A deep, rolling laugh erupted from Jace’s chest. “You never fail to surprise me, Mel.” He stood, rounded the desk and stopped directly in front of her. Their gazes met, and the bones in Melanie’s legs seemed to melt.

He brought his fingers to her cheek and lightly brushed them against her skin. Now she lost the ability to breathe. “Um…what are you doing?”

“You have a smudge on your cheek, Mello Yello. Looks like you lost a battle with your pen.” His fingers pressed in a little harder. “Nope, not coming off. Think you’ll need soap and water for this.”

Without thinking, without even realizing what she was doing, Melanie reached up and curled her fingers around Jace’s hand. She stepped in closer, lifted her chin and stared right into those delicious eyes of his. “You’re making me crazy,” she admitted, her voice just this side of husky. “The way you touch me, look at me. Are you playing with me, Jace?”

“You’re making
me
crazy,” he said. “I…God, Mel, I can’t get you out of my head.”

“We work together. This would be—”

“Crazy,” he said, finishing her sentence for her. “But so what? Let’s live crazy. Let me take you to dinner tonight. Just the two of us, somewhere quiet.”

“I…I can’t.” She retreated a few steps. A wash of relief that she had an excuse to say no rippled through her. Because without that excuse, she would’ve said yes. And then…then, who knew what else she’d end up saying yes to? “I have dinner with my mother tonight. Every Tuesday, like clockwork.”

“Ah. Well, maybe another time.” Was that regret or relief she heard? “But have fun with your mom. Tell her I said hi.”

“Will do.” He remained a little too close for Melanie’s comfort, so she retreated farther, stopping in his doorway. “So, um, I’ll talk to you later. I should have my intro to show you tomorrow.”

Returning to his side of the desk, he said, “I don’t want to see it yet. Let’s wait until the end, and then we’ll go through everything at once.” He winked. “Will make the bet more interesting.”

Wow. She’d almost forgotten about the bet. Too much on her mind, that was all. “Sounds like a plan.”

She turned on her heel to leave. Just as she stepped completely out of his office, she heard him say, “By the way, Mel. You look hot with ink smeared on your cheek.”

She didn’t respond, just kept walking, but her heart picked up an extra beat. Jace Foster, the man who could have almost any woman he wanted, thought she was hot. With ink on her face, no less. The pleasure stayed with her through washing said ink off, through working on the introduction to the Valentine’s Day feature and all the way through the rest of the day.

If her mind whispered for her to be careful, that charming women was second nature to men like Jace, she mostly ignored the warnings. Oh, she didn’t intend to act on her attraction—or if she was going to call a spade a spade—her lust. Still, his flattery and attention felt good. So why not enjoy it?

When the workday ended, she walked by Jace’s office to say goodbye, only to find the room dark and empty. She shrugged off her disappointment at missing him and headed for the parking garage. Her thoughts went to the night ahead. Hopefully, her mother wasn’t planning a surprise get-together with Wade. Melanie would far prefer to be prepared for that meeting.

Reaching her five-year-old Volkswagen Jetta, Melanie unlocked the doors, deposited her purse and laptop on the passenger-side seat and climbed in. A yawn slipped out. Her up-and-down emotions, combined with the events of the past few days, had worn her down. What she needed, she thought as she put her key into the ignition, was an early night. Maybe a long, hot bubble bath first. After dinner with Mom, of course.

She turned the key and…nothing. Not even a hiccup of a noise from the Jetta’s engine. Cursing under her breath, she removed the key and tried again. Still nothing. Well, hell. She’d filled the tank that morning, so she knew the car wasn’t out of gas.

“Come on. Don’t do this to me,” she whispered, trying one more time. “I’m still making payments on you. You have to start.”

When the car remained silent and unresponsive, Melanie cursed again. Loudly. Grabbing her belongings, she made her way toward the elevator. From past experience, she knew her cell phone couldn’t get a signal in the parking garage, which meant to freaking deal with this she needed to return to the office or go stand outside of the garage.

Seeing as it was growing dark, she chose the office. Once there, she called for a tow. They told her they’d be there within the hour. After that, she phoned her mother to tell her that she wouldn’t be able to make it for dinner. Oddly, Loretta wasn’t upset by the news, claiming fatigue from a long day at the salon.

Then, Melanie returned to her dead-as-a-doornail car and waited.

Two hours later, Melanie parked her rental car next to the curb three houses down from her duplex. Her neighbors, a group of college students, were apparently having a party, because the double-wide driveway she shared with them was full. She was so aggravated about
her
car that she didn’t even care.

The shop wouldn’t be able to look at the Jetta for a few days, which meant she wouldn’t have her car back until sometime next week. Even though her auto insurance gave her a discount on rental cars, she still had to fork out thirty dollars a day for the Ford Focus she’d driven home. She wouldn’t be able to afford that for long.