Baiting the Boss (16 page)

He froze. “You sound like you’re saying good-bye.”

“I am. My work here tonight is done, and it’s been a long day. I know your flight leaves tomorrow morning, so I won’t see you again.” She stopped, swallowed, and continued, “Say hello to Mary and Tupua for me, will you? I won’t ever forget them.”

Alarm prickled down his spine before he got himself under control. “You’re not leaving without one dance with me.”

She blinked at him. Memories of their last dance together rushed through his mind—the croon of Tupua’s love song, the balm of the night, the softness of Grace’s body cradled in his arms. Need stung him into action. Before she could protest, he drew her into his arms and swung her onto the dance floor.

The band was playing an up-tempo number, but Jack ignored the rhythm and kept Grace in his arms, swaying slowly through the jostling dancers.

“Remember the last time we danced?” he said.

He felt a shiver run through her. Every nerve ending in him was acutely attuned to her, sensing her slightest movement, the smallest breath she took. Her body was warm and supple in his arms, and each time her breasts rubbed against his chest, a rocket of desire shot through him. The perfume of her hair drifted around him, the closeness of her lips lured him. He knew their proximity was affecting her just as much. He could feel it in the tremble of her fingers clasping his, in the unsteady puffs escaping her parted lips, in the liquid depths of her eyes.

“I remember.” Her voice wavered.

He banded his arm tighter around her waist, splaying his fingers across her hip. The seductive fragrance from her cleavage sent his blood pressure soaring. Slowly he massaged her hip, drawing circles in the thin red chiffon. She shivered and gulped.

One more night with Grace. God, what wouldn’t he give for that? But one night wouldn’t be enough. He wanted more, much more than that.

Crazy possibilities swirled through his head. Maybe he could persuade her to help him set up his nonprofit venture. Maybe she’d like to come with him and move from one country to another, one island to another. As soon as he thought that, he quashed the idea. Grace didn’t want the life of a gypsy. She needed stability, permanence, a place she could call home, and a man who would share all that with her.

But nothing could douse the fire in him. He brushed his lips against her temples, feathering baby kisses over her smooth skin. She let out a tiny moan, as if she was losing control, but before he could further his advantage, she pulled back, leaving an inch of air between their bodies that felt like an arctic blast.

“I’m so glad you and your grandfather have made up,” she said in a rush, her voice overbright and breathy.

He sighed. He didn’t want to talk about his grandfather. “Yes. He even said he was proud of me, even though I’ve convinced him I’m not rejoining Macintyre’s.”

She tilted her head to one side. “So you’re adamant about that, are you?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve never had the slightest temptation.”

Oh yeah?
A dissenting voice piped up inside him. He swatted it aside. Okay, so he’d enjoyed directing the team on the Malaysian project. He’d been stimulated by the challenge, and his natural leadership skills had welcomed the test. He would relish the cut and thrust of being CEO of a major company, but all of that wasn’t enough to make him change his mind.

“You must miss her a lot.”

He started. “You mean Becky?”

Grace nodded. “You loved her so much, and I can see why. She was so beautiful and sparkly and lively, like a glass of champagne, and she was always friendly to everyone at the office, including me.” She paused. “You won’t come back to Macintyre’s because of her.”

A muscle flickered in his jaw. “That’s right,” he answered automatically. He pondered Grace’s words. Becky
had
been like champagne, but a man couldn’t survive on bubbles alone. As much as he’d loved his effervescent wife, their union hadn’t been one of equals. She’d required his protection, his company, his attention—all of which he’d gladly given, while his own needs had gone unmet. Needs that Grace could fulfill so perfectly. Grace was warm, loyal, generous, and at the same time she was determined, independent, capable. She was the perfect blend of tenderness and strength. His throat tightened. Shit. He was being disloyal to Becky’s memory. Why the hell did he have to compare the two?

Grace gazed at him, a strange steeliness in her expression. “And me, Jack?”

“You?”

“Yes, me. Will you think of me when you go back to Filemu Island? Or will I fade from your memory as soon as you step onto the plane tomorrow?”

Frowning, he spun her round the dance floor. “What’s brought this on? Has Lachlan been saying something?”

“Nobody’s said anything. I want to know.” She tipped her chin higher. “Are you always going to be content with brief affairs? Or will you one day allow yourself to fall in love again?”

Her words sent shock and guilt stinging through every nerve. A moment ago he’d been thinking about his needs, and now Grace had to bring up love. Was that one of his unsatisfied needs? “You’re being rather personal, don’t you think?” he growled.

Instead of being intimidated, she shrugged her shoulders. “What do I have to lose? After tonight, I won’t see you, probably for a long time, maybe never if I change jobs.”

His gut snarled as conflicting emotions warred in him, and resentment won. “So you thought you’d just have a dig around my feelings? See what you could turn up?”

“Don’t be angry with me, Jack.” Her eyes grew dark and grave. “I’m trying to help you.”

“We’re good in bed, but that doesn’t give you carte blanche with me.” The words shot out before he could consider them.

She stopped dancing and stared at him, her face growing pale. “You don’t have to remind me that what we shared was only sex. I-I always knew that, and I’m fine with it, but in the future, for your own good, you should be looking for more than just sex.”

Shit. Why did she have to make him feel like such a jerk? “Just sex will do for me. I don’t need more.”

“One day you’ll regret—”

“No,” he barked, causing people around them to stare. He didn’t give a damn. “Don’t presume to know what I need, what I’m capable of.” He didn’t know why fury was pounding through him, but he couldn’t seem to control it. “I like just having sex. It’s simple and straightforward and afterward there aren’t any complications. I don’t want anything more.”

She blinked at him, looking stunned and hurt by his outburst. Had Grace somehow fallen in love with him? The possibility filled him with gut-churning panic. He couldn’t handle this, especially when his mind was seething with confusion about Grace. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he had, judging by her expression. Christ, was she going to fall apart right here?

But instead of bursting into tears like he half feared, she drew herself upright and set her shoulders back. “Sure, Jack,” she said, her voice as steady as her gaze. “I understand.”

People were staring at them, eavesdropping without shame. Grace didn’t appear to notice them. She stood there, proud in her floating red frock, and to Jack she’d never seemed more strong and dignified and spirited. He wanted to stretch out and pull her into his arms, but she was beyond his reach.

“Grace…” he began hoarsely.

With a slight bow, Grace stepped back. “I should leave now. Thank you for the dance. Good-bye, Jack.”

He didn’t want her to leave like this. He didn’t want her to leave at all. Ever. But the miasma in his head thickened, muddling all his thoughts and feelings. If she would only stay and dance with him. If he could hold her in his arms, he would be able to make sense of the confusion engulfing him.

He made a grab for her but missed, and she slipped away through the onlookers, her dress a red blur among the black tuxedos. Panic churned in him again, but panic of a different kind. Panic that he’d never get close to her again.

“Grace!” he called out.

But she had already disappeared.

Chapter Ten

He sat on the stone wall and watched the sun rise over the ocean. Before him the graveyard sloped down toward the sea, warmed by the first sunrays. He hadn’t slept all night, but he didn’t feel tired. Instead, he felt as though a heavy load had at last slipped from his shoulders and he could breathe once again.

The long phone call to Becky’s parents had helped. He hadn’t spoken to them in a while, but this time he’d been able to open up to them, and their loving kindness had left him in tears. Finally he could remember Becky the way she deserved, could think of her without stabbing remorse. He’d left Iceland poppies on her memorial stone, orange, pink, and yellow flowers, bright and sunny and cheery, just like she’d been.

Now, as he stood, he felt the rising sun filling him with warmth and hope. Hope tinged with anxiety. He knew what he wanted more than anything else, but did he deserve to succeed?

…

Grace dipped her spoon into her laksa and poked at the bean sprouts. For once the spicy aroma did nothing to perk up her appetite, but she’d had to get away from the office, and she’d found her feet tracing the familiar path to Chang’s. She hadn’t been here in years, but it was exactly the same. The same long queue of devotees, the same jam-packed interior. By a stroke of luck, she’d bagged a small table in the far corner away from the serving counter.

She took a sip of her soup, but the pungent liquid couldn’t dissolve the hard mass wedged in the back of her throat. The lump had been there ever since last night when Jack had confirmed once and for all that she was nothing special to him. Jack might like her, might desire her body, but he reserved his heart for Becky, and that was never going to change.

Good thing he was leaving today.

The elderly man sitting opposite her gulped down the last remains of his laksa and got up to leave. At Chang’s, tables were shared, and during the lunch rush, any chair vacated was instantly snapped up, so Grace didn’t glance up as another figure hovered near her table.

“Is this seat taken?” a familiar male voice spoke above her.

Her heart stopped. Her gaze flew up to clash with Jack’s steady gray eyes.

“Jack?” Her spoon slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the plastic table.

He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat, propping his elbows on the edge of the table. “Penny told me you’d gone out for lunch. It was a lucky guess of mine that I’d find you here.”

She slid her hands beneath the table and squeezed them between her knees in a vain attempt to stop their trembling. “But shouldn’t you be at the airport by now? Your flight leaves in less than an hour.”

“I can always reschedule.” He paused, studying her intently. Today she hadn’t made any effort with her appearance. She’d slipped on an old dress, left her hair loose, and hadn’t bothered with makeup. By contrast, he looked smart and urbane in black trousers and a charcoal shirt, his thick hair brushed back from his tanned face. “You have some laksa on your chin,” he said gently.

Oh, damn.
She dabbed at her chin with her napkin. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk with you.”

“Oh.” Her heart went into free-fall. What did he mean? Did he just want to chat with her, or did he want something more?

As she licked her lips, she caught him staring at her mouth before he gave himself a shake. “Last night…well, last night wasn’t the right place for a whole number of reasons.”

The bones in her spine cricked as she sat bolt upright. She didn’t want a rehash of last night. “Yes, last night was quite a shemozzle what with your grandfather firing me and then unfiring me.” She laced her hands together on the table. “I spoke to Lachlan today. I told him I’m resigning from Macintyre’s. I leave in two weeks’ time.”

“You’re resigning?” Surprise burst across his face. “But what about the job at the foundation? I thought you’d be perfect for that.”

“Maybe, but I need a complete break.” From Macintyre’s. From any reminder of Jack.

“And you’re resigning without securing another job first? Isn’t that a bit rash?”

“Probably.” She pressed her lips into a self-deprecating smile. “But, you know, I’m tired of always walking on the safe side. I’ve decided to throw caution to the wind a little. I might land another job soon, or I might not. I might not even want to get another job right away. I might want to…to do other things.”

Jack’s eyes were still stretched in amazement. “But what about that apartment you’d set your heart on buying?”

“I’ll have to pass on that.”

Still looking gob-smacked, he leaned back in his chair. “Oh boy.”

“Why exactly are you here, Jack?” She frowned. “Did your grandfather send you to try to sweet-talk me into withdrawing my resignation?” What typical Macintyre high-handedness. “I’m telling you right now it won’t work.”

“No, I haven’t spoken to my granddad today.”

Her curiosity rose. “What have you been doing, then?”

“Why don’t I show you?” He shot to his feet, suddenly filled with purpose, and stretched out a hand toward her. “Grace?”

It wasn’t fair how her body reacted to Jack so instinctively. Without her permission, her legs straightened, and she rose from her chair. Her hand reached out for his, but at the last second she came to her senses and pulled it back. He shrugged at her refusal but said nothing as he ushered her out the restaurant and into a waiting taxi.

“Okay, we can go now,” Jack said to the driver.

“Where are we going?” she asked when they’d traveled a few blocks.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

She caught the eager glint in his eyes. “It better not be your hotel suite.” If it was, she didn’t see how she’d resist him. Even now it was torture to be sitting next to him, breathing in his heavenly scent, hyperaware of his every movement, every breath. Oh, how long would it take to get over Jack?

His smile glimmered at her. “I hadn’t thought of that but, no, it’s not my hotel suite.”

She felt herself melting toward him and turned away to avoid temptation. Peering through the window, she frowned. “Hey, that’s my local grocery store. Are we going back to my place?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

His cryptic answers were beginning to chafe, but before she could demand an explanation, the taxi turned into her street and slid to a halt opposite her building.

“We’re here.” There was a note of suppressed anticipation in Jack’s voice.

When they were both standing on the pavement, she said, “Okay, what gives? Why are we here?”

“You’re facing the wrong way.” Touching her shoulder, he gently turned her round. “This is where you should be looking.”

They were standing in front of the Victorian tea warehouse opposite her home, the building she’d watched being renovated. Mystified, she turned to Jack. “I told you I’d given up on buying an apartment here.”

“Let’s just go in and have a look, huh?”

He urged her forward, and she fell into step beside him. Now that the scaffolding had been dismantled, the refurbished building could be seen in all its glory. They walked into the magnificent lobby and entered one of the lifts. Jack pressed the button for the top floor. He didn’t utter a word until they reached their destination and the doors opened.

He pulled a key from his pocket and opened the only door on that floor.

Grace widened her eyes. “Where did you get that key?”

“From the real-estate agent.” He gestured toward the door. “This way.”

Grace stepped into an enormous space flooded with light from floor-to-ceiling windows that boasted an uninterrupted view of the skyline. Other rooms and hallways led off this main room, but even without exploring them, she knew exactly where she was.

“This is the penthouse,” she said. “The one I was daydreaming about.”

“You don’t have to daydream anymore.” Jack held out the key toward her. “It’s yours now.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “Yeah, as soon as I win the lottery.”

“No. It’s really yours. I bought it for you this morning.”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything except stare at him, unable to process his words. Stepping closer, he lifted her numb hand and pressed the key into her palm. “It hasn’t been fitted out yet,” he added. “You get to choose all the finishes.”

She squeezed the key until it was digging into her flesh. Finally she found her voice. “You’re crazy, Jack. Are you doing this because you feel guilty about me? Don’t. I knew it was never more than a fling for you. It’s not your fault that I—that I…”

As her voice faltered, she realized that Jack was tense and breathing hard, as if he were hanging onto her every word. “What, Grace? What’s not my fault?”

His husky tone undid her defenses. What was the point in denying something so obvious?

“It’s not your fault that I fell in love with you,” she admitted. Swallowing, she forced herself to continue. “Lots of women fall in love with you, Jack. You couldn’t possibly afford to buy every one of them a penthouse to ease the hurt.”

His eyes burned so intensely she could feel her cheeks tingling. “No, I couldn’t afford that,” he said hoarsely, his throat working. “That’s why I’d only buy a penthouse for the woman I’ve fallen in love with.”

His words reached her, sank in, but didn’t make sense. “But last night you said it was just sex, nothing more.”

“Because last night I was still running scared, afraid to admit the truth to myself.” He moved over to the huge windows as if he needed time to gather himself. She found herself following him, desperate to believe him.

“For years I’ve been blaming myself and Macintyre’s for Becky’s death,” Jack said. “I blamed my grandfather for driving me all the time. I blamed myself for buying into his line that work came first. But I would never put work ahead of the woman I love. The truth is, I loved Becky, but not in an adult, mature way, not the way a husband should love his wife.”

He gulped in a shaky breath. “I latched onto Becky because I was looking for a family of my own. She was frothy and fun and the complete antithesis of my dour, nose-to-the-grindstone grandfather. I married her for all the wrong reasons. I thought I loved her, but it wasn’t enough. And she thought she loved me, but it wasn’t enough to keep her happy here in Sydney. She pined for attention, and I didn’t—couldn’t give it to her.” He rubbed eyes darkened by his memories. “We were never equals in our relationship. I see that now. Even when we were together, I often felt lonely, and I could never figure out why, until now.”

He turned to her, his face ablaze with raw emotion. “Grace, I didn’t know what it was to really love a woman until I met you. You showed me what it means to love, to share everything, good and bad, to be genuine friends and lovers. I love you, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

He folded his fingers around her hand. “Grace, say something.”

His arm muscles were taut and shaking, she realized, and a sheen of sweat dewed his forehead. It had cost him a lot to open his heart to her.

“Jack…” She began to perspire herself. “I can’t believe you’re saying all this.”

With a sudden motion he pulled her into his arms. “Believe it, darling. It’s all true.” He sounded choked and overwrought as he buried his face into her hair.

Too dazed to speak, she flung her arms around his waist in a fierce hug. This wonderful man loved her! Every heartfelt word of his declaration sank in and resonated within her, multiplying the power of her emotion. She smoothed her trembling hands over his back, delighting in her right to caress the man she loved. He dusted her hair and forehead with light kisses, all the while murmuring incoherent endearments.

There was a dull clatter as the forgotten key slipped from her hands and fell to the floor. Grace reached for it and held it up to Jack. “And this?”

He grinned, full of glee. “It’s not a stunt. It really is your place.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “But you didn’t have to do this. You could’ve just talked to me.”

“Sometimes talking’s not enough.”

“But it’s too much. Way too much.” She glanced up at the soaring ceilings, her brain growing dizzy at the amount of money he’d splashed out on her. “And I can buy my own apartment, you know. I don’t need a man to do that for me.”

“I know that, but I wanted to spoil you. Extravagantly.”

“You succeeded. I can’t get over this place. It’s incredible.” She slid her arms around his neck. “Thank you, darling.” Uttering the endearment sent a thrill through her. She reached up, searching for his mouth, and lost herself in another sparking, lingering kiss.

As they came up for air, the glow in his eyes burned brighter. “I agree you don’t need a man to buy you an apartment, but you do need one in the bedroom, don’t you?”

The hot look in his eyes made her weak all over. She threaded her fingers through his hair. “Oh, absolutely. You can share my bedroom anytime.”

“That’s good, because I’ll need a place to live now that I’m staying put in Sydney.”

She caught her breath. “You are?”

He nodded. “While I was here I realized how much I missed the challenge of corporate business, how much I still want to accomplish. I’m coming back to Macintyre’s.”

“Oh, Lachlan must be ecstatic.”

“I haven’t told him yet.”

“And Filemu Island? Your nonprofit venture?”

“Will dovetail quite nicely into the Macintyre Foundation. I’ll make sure the school project gets off first.” His voice lowered as his eyes brightened with enthusiasm. “I’m hoping you’ll come back to the island with me for a month or so. I could really do with your input, not to mention your company.” He curved his hand around her nape, his palm warm and possessive on her skin.

The thought of spending hot, tropical nights with Jack shot a quiver of anticipation through her. “I-I think my schedule’s free for the next month.” She played with the buttons of his shirt. “And I’d love to visit the island again.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” His smile melted her bones, but instead of kissing her as she anticipated, he added, “Which leads me to my next point. How can I convince you to take up that position within the foundation?”

“You’re so sure I’d be a good candidate?”