Redemption (23 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Barrett

BOOK: Redemption
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“That’s not true,” he protested, wishing now he had refrained from mentioning Annie. “In fact, I’m currently in a dry spell. It’s been…weeks,” he said.

“Oh, so you’ve decided to quench your thirst at the most convenient watering hole? What’s the matter? Isn’t your co-star receptive to your advances?”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing going on between Laura and me except friendship. And we’re not talking about me here, though that was a clever attempt to turn the tables.” He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter, giving her a confident half-smile. Although Claire could probably cut him to shreds in a boardroom, when it came to this particular topic, he knew his stuff.

“And as for you being a ‘convenient watering hole’…Well, the food’s great, but my water glass has been dry since I got here.” He let his gaze drift down. “Of course, after ten years in the deep freeze, I guess those extremities,” he said, glancing up at her nose, “are starting to get a little frostbit.”

Giving her a wicked grin, he drawled, “And if I’m the reason for that, I figure it’s my duty, ma’am, to warm you up.”

Before she could protest, he folded his arms around her, lifted her easily until her feet left the floor, and sat her on the counter. A little gasp slipped from her throat, but he settled his mouth on hers before any further sound could escape.

This time, he kissed her intimately, deeply, with more heat than before, determined to break through the icy barriers she had erected. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting honey. She had obviously dipped into the honey jar herself, and it made his blood race to know that she too could be tempted. Like a chemical reaction, he felt lust surge through him. His loins tightened, and what had been a teasing challenge became more urgent.

One hand slipped inside her sweater. Her skin was surprisingly warm underneath. His fingertips explored every inch of her back, her shoulders, halting at the bra strap that pressed into her soft flesh. In seconds he had it unhooked. He heard her gasp but ignored it.

Until he heard the word “no,” he planned to take this as far as he could.

Far from protesting, however, Matt could swear she was enjoying this. Her arms clung to him, and he could feel her pulse throbbing in the veins in her neck. He kissed the spot tenderly and felt her shiver in response. He moved his mouth to her ear and was rewarded with another shiver.

She started to back away, and Matt took advantage by slipping his hand, now nicely warmed by her skin, around to her stomach. “You’ve got the softest skin,” he murmured, wishing he knew something to compare it to that wasn’t corny. But his mind was incapable of creating analogies at the moment. His body—particularly the lower half—was in control now. It directed his hand to her breast. He cupped his palm around its weight.

He felt her tighten in resistance against him. It had been ten years, he reminded himself. Better to take it slow. His fingers danced over her nipple, and he heard her moan. In a heartbeat, his mouth was on hers, seeking, exploring, encouraging a response he was now sure he would find.

Every instinct he had urged him into her. The blood pounded in his veins, and sensation replaced thought. He wanted nothing more than to lay her across a horizontal surface…

But then Matt felt her stiffen against him, heard her gasp in protest. Not a no, but somehow he knew he had to let her control the pace.

He sucked air into his lungs, willing his racing heart to slow. The throbbing tightness in his jeans was another matter, one that craved the recently broken contact. Resisting the urge to flatten himself against her softness, he braced himself against the counter, breathing in the scent of her hair.

He let out a shaky breath and murmured softly against her hair. “God, it’s good with us, Claire. Do you know the first time I made love to a woman after you, I thought something was wrong with me? It didn’t work nearly as well.”

She gave him a sharp look. “If you think I’m buying that line, you’re—”

“It’s not a line,” he said, laughing softly. “If it was, I’d insist on a rewrite—it’s a pretty bad one.” Then he sobered. “It’s true. It’s never been the same. Not with anyone.”

It
was
true, Matt reflected. Though he had been searching ever since, unconsciously, for a woman who brought him to the same level of gut-wrenching passion, he had never found one. Instead, he had settled for sexual expertise rather than true feeling. The implications of that…he would think about later, he decided. When wide gray eyes weren’t staring at him skeptically with just a hint of need in their depths.

“It was your imagination. You had to justify what happened by building it up into something it wasn’t.”

“This coming from a woman who ended her sex life due to the same experience?” He raised an eyebrow.

She looked away and broke the last remaining contact. Reaching behind her, she struggled to refasten her bra. Matt nudged her hand away, turned her slightly, then made quick work of the clasp.

He could feel her fury coming off her in waves.

“Regardless, I’m not interested in repeating the experience,” she said, facing him. “It may have been life altering for you, but personally, I can live without the complications.”

He laughed. “Complications?” He shook his head. “If that’s all you feel when I stick my hand up your sweater, I’ve lost my technique.” He smiled ruefully, then glanced at his watch in regret. “And unfortunately, I’ve got to be on the set at five a.m., or I’d stick around and give it another shot.”

Before turning to leave, he gave her a wink, saying, “Thanks for dinner—and the video. I’ll have it copied and get it back to you.”

Chapter Fifteen

C
LAIRE
C
AREFULLY
S
TEPPED
A
ROUND
an outcrop of scaffolding and glanced down at the copy of the floor plans in her hand. The eighth-floor theater was beginning to resemble a daycare center. In one corner would be a kitchen, for staff to prepare snacks brought in from the restaurant downstairs. An indoor garden would bloom underneath new skylights, an opportunity for the kids to learn about nature. The stage area would be carved into three separate playrooms, including one just for infants.

Claire couldn’t wait to show the plans to Joan. She’d be glad to know that when she came back from maternity leave, her baby could come with her and be well looked after in the bright new space.

Having been the board member to propose it, Claire thought of the childcare center as her baby. She smiled at the pun. In some small way, she felt she was giving back to all those who’d helped her when she struggled to raise her son alone, with no one but her aging grandmother to help look after him. Gram had been a lifesaver, in more ways than one.

But the past was over, and Claire had no need for her grandmother’s help, either financially or as a refuge when she was escaping from the reverend and his wife—she refused to think of Roy and Deborah Porter as her parents.

She stepped off the stage, which had once hosted fashion shows in Kaslow’s heyday, and almost ran into Evan, tapping at his mobile. He stuffed the phone in his pocket and glanced around at the scaffolded walls, frowning.

“What a waste of perfectly good cash. Kaslow’s is bleeding money, and you want to turn this into a luxury theme park for rugrats.”

Claire braced herself for another skirmish. Evan was the one person on the board who’d never accepted the fact that Kaslow’s was no longer a privately held corporation and no longer controlled its own destiny. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But the theater wasn’t being used anymore, and the board approved the renovations. The childcare center will help Kaslow’s attract top-notch employees.”

“Kaslow’s never had any problem attracting top-notch employees.” Written on his face were the words “until you came along.”

Claire swallowed her retort. It was best to ignore Evan and the enormous chip on his shoulder, she’d found.

But he wasn’t done. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Bendel account. They selected Kaslow’s. Tell me, what did you offer Monsieur Lemond to sweeten the deal?” His gaze lowered to the scalloped collar of her blouse.

Claire clutched the floor plans tighter. “Nothing other than the quality that Kaslow’s is known for,” she said sharply.

“Apparently the video you sent influenced the old bat. I’m not the only one wondering what you had to do to get it. After the way you screwed Matt Grayson in the location negotiations, you’d think he’d want nothing to do with you.” He let that sink in, then added with a hard smile, “Or are you, literally, screwing him now?”

Claire didn’t flinch, though inside she cringed at Evan’s crude suggestion. Instead, she fixed him with the cool stare she’d perfected when harsher words than Evan’s were hurled at her. “Keep your playground taunts where they belong, Evan.” She turned to go, but his next comment stopped her.

“Lee Ann says she saw you talking to him in the rotunda.”

Claire turned. “Lee Ann?”

“My secretary.”

Lee Ann, Claire remembered, was known more for her too short skirts than her speed at typing.

“She must have been mistaken.” Claire kept her voice calm, despite the fact her stomach had lurched in a dead drop. “I’ve had nothing to do with—”

“Oh, there you are!” Jackie Prescott appeared from behind the scaffolding, her heels echoing in the cavernous space. “I’ve been wanting to congratulate you on the Bendel account. I’ve got some ideas for promotion—oh, hello, Evan.” She gave him a look that Claire suspected wasn’t entirely as guileless as it came across. “Weren’t you working on that account?”

“Yes, and if my mother hadn’t chosen that day to break her hip, I’d have been the one to secure the deal.”

Jackie ignored his expression. She was no doubt used to his sour moods. “Well, the main thing is Kaslow’s will benefit. The exposure will be tremendous. Isn’t that right?” She turned to Claire. “I’m loving what’s happening with the childcare center! I can’t wait to get some photos so we can place a piece in the local papers, hopefully get some national press on our renovations.”

Claire couldn’t help a smile. Jackie had the air of a ditz sometimes, but underneath her chic blond bob was a shrewd publicity hound.

Evan aggressively flicked a piece of lint off his sleeve. “I’m sure the national press has better things to report on than what’s happening on the eighth floor of Kaslow’s. Right, Claire?” He gave her a secretive smile, a reminder of their recent conversation.

Claire wanted to wrap his Hermes tie around his skinny neck but instead she pinned him with a cool stare. “At least they’re not reporting our same store sales,” she replied. “I’ve got some ideas about improving sales at the Cherry Hill store we’ll have to discuss when you’ve got a minute, Evan. I’ll have Joan contact you.”

He slid his hands in his pockets and smiled blandly. “I’m all ears when it comes to your plans, Claire.”

As he walked away, Jackie turned to her and said with a serious look on her face, “Watch out for him. He’d sell his own mother if there were a run on the commodity market.”

Claire smiled at her description. Since their first skirmish in the boardroom, she and Jackie had developed a sort of friendship. “He’s still upset about the Atlantic City store,” she explained. “He seemed particularly fond of the plans for some reason.”

“Yes, well, he holds a grudge. He got a board member fired last year when he nixed Evan’s bonus.”

They stopped at the back entrance to the theater, next to the elevator. Jackie leaned toward Claire, her voice low. “And his secretary Lee Ann will do his dirty work. She’s his eyes and ears. He planted her on the
Lyin’ Hearts
set, just in case any worthy gossip came her way. Although frankly, I think she was there to offer her ‘services’ to Matt Grayson.” Jackie laughed. “As if he’d want anything to do with her!”

Claire stepped aside as several workmen walked past, hoping Jackie would change the subject, but unfortunately Jackie seemed to be in the mood for sharing.

“I don’t know why Bernard Kaslow puts up with him,” she continued as they got on the elevator. “He feels he owes it to his brother, I guess. But if he knew Evan was screwing his secretary on the side, he’d cut him out of the will. Bernard’s a bit…old-fashioned.”

Claire smiled tightly and pressed the button for the seventh floor, wishing she had taken the stairs. Anything to avoid a gossip session with Jackie and especially the reminder about Bernard Kaslow’s old-fashioned values. If he ever found out that his financial officer was once a notorious homewrecker, he’d toss her out on her ear along with his nephew.

Somehow, she had to get Matt to agree to keep their past a secret. How, she didn’t know. Instead of being pacified with a few visits with Tripper, he was growing more determined to be a part of his son’s life, of their lives.

Claire swallowed the fear in her throat. She just had to convince Matt that there was too much at stake and that their past was best buried and forgotten.

Chapter Sixteen

“I
S
T
HIS
A
LICIA
H
OWARD
? From the
Inquisitor
?”

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