Authors: Jenna Bayley-Burke
“Did he take that?” he mother asked.
“He’s a fabulous photographer. He took pictures everywhere we went.”
“How nice of him to share some with you.”
Jaime nodded, a lump in her throat forming at the shot of her sitting on a rock with Mt. Rushmore in the background. She knew the next would be of them kissing in Salt Lake City, but she showed it anyway.
“That looks like a postcard.” Linda’s voice held no trace of chastisement or judgment. She must not realize the silhouette was her fool of a daughter.
The shot she’d taken of Xavier in the slot canyon hurtled her back to that moment, where she’d been both powerful and vulnerable. And loved it. Loved him.
Maybe that’s why her interview had been cancelled. She was supposed to go with him, take the biggest risk of her life even if it meant calling home for plane fare when it all went down the drain.
She flipped open the ticket, her heart stalling as she deciphered the code. He’d bought her a return ticket, open-ended, first class from Paris to Medford.
“Do you need a ride to the airport?”
Jaime turned to her mother, her eyes heavy with tears. “You knew? How did you know?”
“A mother knows things without her child having to say a word.” Jaime melted into her mother’s arms, letting the tears fall for a moment before she pulled back.
“You’re not disappointed in me?”
“Honestly, Jaime? I’ll be disappointed if you don’t go. He seems wonderful, and he looks at you as if you set the universe spinning.”
“But I’ve only known him a few weeks. What if it all falls flat?”
A silly grin quirked her mother’s features. “You know what your grandmother told me once? It takes a long time to go from a roaring boil to ice. If you keep the heat on, you can keep up a slow simmer forever.”
Jaime blinked then started to laugh. “When did she say that?”
“When I had to tell Keith about you. I thought for sure he’d run, but twenty-five years later, we’re still simmering.”
“Mom! I don’t want to know that.”
Her mother stood, offered a hand and pulled Jaime to her feet. “I know. Ever since you turned twelve all I’m good for is a shoulder to cry on and rides. Let’s go to the airport.”
Xavier looked down at the tiny journal, amazed by how many of the items he’d been able to check off the list. He’d expected to feel something, closure maybe at having done so many. Instead he was wistful for a childhood that could have been, and for the first time in his life he was actually thinking that someday he’d have a child of his own.
Next summer he’d come back, finish the list and try again with Jaime. The items blurred in front of his eyes. Xavier tried to focus, but nothing seemed to work. His mind volleyed between Jaime’s refusal to accept anything he offered and Natalie’s advice to beg her if he had to.
He couldn’t do that. He wanted her to see as much potential in them as he did, and if she didn’t… Well, obviously she didn’t. Xavier stood, dropping the journal into the recliner. He made his way through the cabin of the jet, back to the stateroom.
He opened his traveling case and stared at clothes he hadn’t worn since he’d ended his driving adventure. Unbuttoning his shirt, he’d never felt more ridiculous. He was a grown man getting sentimental about the
I left my heart in South Dakota
T-shirt she’d bought him as a joke.
He shrugged off the dress shirt and pulled on the tee. It was a long flight back and he might as well be comfortable. Next he traded the shoes for bare feet and the slacks for a pair of cargo shorts, the one’s he’d worn the day he picked up Jaime in that rundown DC neighborhood. He rubbed his hair for good measure. Sometime during the trip it had grown long enough to comb, but he didn’t care to look put together when he felt like his life was falling apart.
Closing the case, he slid it back into the closet and sank down onto the bed. He should have picked up some sleeping pills and dozed his way back home. It would beat the hell out of wallowing in self-pity while the plane was fueled up and stocked with provisions.
The minutes had crawled by since he’d walked away from Jaime, each one tugging at him to think of another way. With fashion week less than a month from now, he really couldn’t be away from Marie-Chloe any longer. As the first season without his mother leading the design team and his father’s retirement imminent, it was imperative he and Natalie present a united front.
The decision to use curvier models was a bold one garnering a lot of publicity. Thanks to their father’s tirade yesterday, not all of the press was good. The business was bigger than him. Too many people depended on him to make the decisions for him to check out now so he could get his personal life in order. Still, he didn’t take no for an answer in business and he wasn’t comfortable doing so now.
When he came to New York for fashion week in November, he’d figure out a way to work in a few days in whatever city Jaime ended up. What he felt for her wasn’t a lustful infatuation. It was something bigger, deeper. Something he was unwilling to be without for a moment longer than he had to.
Out of sight, out of mind was not something he would let happen. No, he’d make sure to fly in every few months and tilt her world a little. Enough so that by next summer she’d be willing to come to France. Once he got her there he knew he could convince her to stay.
With the outline of a plan set in his mind, Xavier opted to get some work done. He crossed the room and stepped into the cabin just as the outside doors opened and natural light flooded the space. Thank goodness the hostess was back with the provisions for the trip. One step closer to getting off the ground.
Except behind the hostess with her cart of food was the last person he expected to see, and the only person he truly wanted to. She seemed intent on helping the hostess push the cart into the galley and talking about coffee of all things.
He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”
Jaime turned, smiling as she walked to him. “I haven’t yet. Thank you for leaving my name at the gate. The whole drive here I wondered how I was supposed to get on the plane.” She stopped a few feet from him and ran her hand along the back of one of the recliners. “I hate flying. Usually I have to take something to get through it.”
“I have something I could give you.” He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe of the stateroom, silently willing her to come to him.
Jaime rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you do. But before we take off and I start having a panic attack, I have some things I should say.”
“Something you couldn’t have told me earlier?”
“Earlier I still had my pride.” She stepped to him with careful slowness. “Now I’m thinking if there is something I really want, I should stop at nothing to get it.”
“I agree.” Tension slid from his shoulders, loosened the tightness in his chest. “I was planning to come to you every few months to remind you of what you were missing out on, or maybe to remind myself.”
She stood in front of him, her body trembling. He reached for her hands, damp and cool. He lifted them and placed her palms flat against his chest. The contact soothed him. He hoped it did the same for her.
“I know you don’t like ultimatums and strings, but I’m coming to Paris to be with you. I’m not staying in an apartment you’re not in.”
“I’m glad. I’d hate for you to come all that way and sleep alone. I have a penthouse in the city. We’ll live there.” Her body relaxed at his words and he wrapped his arms around her. She sank deeper against him and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I’m not going so we can continue our fling. I’m here because somewhere along the way I started to fall in love with you and I don’t want to stop.”
Emotion surged through him at her words. He framed her face in his hands and lifted her gaze to his. His stomach tensed and he felt as if he were about to jump off a cliff without a bungee cord. “I’m falling in love with you too.”
Her eyes sparkled with fresh tears, and he couldn’t wait another second. He lifted her off her feet and carried her into the stateroom, kicking the door closed behind them. He set her down on the bed and then lay beside her.
“This can’t be safe.” Jaime inched back on the bed until her head found the pillow, her brown hair spilling around her in waves.
“I have condoms. Somewhere,” Xavier said, his mouth hungry on hers, saying everything he’d tell her someday, when he trusted his emotions more.
“Wait.” Jaime squirmed free from beneath him. “I mean the plane. Don’t we need to be in seats, with seatbelts and learn the emergency procedures?”
“Jaime, the only emergency we’ll have is if you try and get off this bed.”
He took her lips again as their bodies sank into the mattress. He might be about to fly back to Paris, but he’d finally found his way home.
“Paris is always a good idea.” Audrey Hepburn
About the Author
Jenna Bayley-Burke is known for her fun, sexy romance novels, baking banana bread
and over-volunteering. She thinks she has the best jobs in the world–mother, wife and author. When she’s not lost in her latest story, she can be found pursuing whatever hobby her characters are enamored with–photography, crotchet, shoes, gardening, crafts
and cooking up a storm. For more on Jenna check out her website
www.jennabayleyburke.com
.
Look for these titles by Jenna Bayley-Burke
Now Available:
Her Cinderella Complex
Par For The Course
Compromising Positions
Pride & Passion
Private Scandal
For Kicks
If the shoe fits…run with it!
For Kicks
© 2012 Jenna Bayley-Burke
Breeze Cohen senses something is missing from her life, but her career doesn’t leave time for anything but retail business strategy—particularly the upcoming product launch for her cornerstone client, Nitrous.
No way is she going to let live-for-the-moment Logan Chandler tarnish her professional reputation. Even if the ex-athlete poster boy for Nitrous makes her heart pound like she’s run a marathon.
After surviving a near-fatal accident, Logan doesn’t want to waste a minute of life. It’s meant to be lived, ravished, enjoyed—and there’s no one he’d like to ravish more than Breeze. There’s a deep pool of mutual desire beneath her icy façade. He can feel it every time they touch.
When a training snafu at Nitrous launches Breeze into damage control, Logan is ready and waiting to lace up and take her for a run on the wilder side—if he can catch her.
Warning:
Side effects may include a desire to melt chocolate with body heat, spontaneous phone sex, and an intense drive to find loopholes in your workplace fraternization policy.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
For Kicks:
“No.” She shook her head, the dark ringlets that escaped her clip swaying. “This is a business dinner.”
“And after dinner?”
He’d sensed the mutual attraction all day, but she’d opposed his flirtatious advances with her arsenal of retail knowledge. He knew she was just trying to keep her own attraction at bay. And all day he’d let her, especially since they were in her stores.
But this was a restaurant. A quiet table in the back with low lighting. The only business going on was in her head.
“It would be unprofessional for anything to happen between us.” She spoke in her ever-efficient manner, which he already found disturbingly endearing.
“How so?”
“We work together.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re a manager for Mendelssohn’s department store. I’m a brand manager at Nitrous. We work for separate companies.”
“Companies with a tenuous agreement at the moment. One which I’d like to convince you we can honor.” An undeniable spark of enthusiasm lit her baby blues.
“I have no doubt in your abilities, Breeze. But you have no bearing on a business agreement. So we’re free to explore whatever we’d like.”
“I’m not interested.” She set down her fork and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I would never jeopardize my career by mixing my professional and private life.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.” He set down his own fork and stared into her eyes until she dropped her gaze.
“I’ve worked too hard to have people think my success is due to anything other than my professional abilities. And when you’re a woman, that’s exactly where people’s minds go.”
“But we don’t work together.”
“People will assume the Nitrous account ebbs and flows with how we’d be doing personally.”
He dropped his head back and cursed the part of himself that found her protests charming. “Then you’d better give me your home number and address.” Her eyes were wide when he gazed down at her and squared his shoulders.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“If work is the only place I can get a hold of you, people will talk. If you want to keep things private, we can.”