Holiday by Design

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Holiday by Design Page 11

by Patricia Kay


  “It’s not as bad as it sounds, though,” Joanna continued. “When I’m out, I usually only eat half of my entrée and take the rest home, so I get two meals out of every one. And sometimes three!”

  Later, when their entrées arrived, he could see why she’d said that, especially about Giacomo’s. The portions served were huge. He’d followed Joanna’s recommendation and ordered the Bolognese tagliatelle, which she’d said was considered as authentic as a person could get outside Italy, and he immediately knew there was no way he would eat it all.

  She had opted for the chicken marsala. “I love everything here,” she confessed. Her dark eyes shone in the candlelight. She laughed softly. “Sometimes I even dream about their food.”

  If Marcus hadn’t known it before, he would have known in that instant that he was irresistibly drawn to her. There was something so appealing in her enthusiasm, and in how she didn’t seem to care about impressing him. In fact, he pretty much liked everything about her now, except for the overdone bohemian clothing she favored and the too much makeup/too much jewelry look. But that could be changed.

  Giacomo himself waited on them. When he heard Joanna address Marcus by his first name, he beamed. “You are Italian also!”

  Marcus shook his head. “No, I’m not. My mother is French and my father’s ancestors came from England. But I’m the third Marcus in the family, so someone way back must have liked the name.”

  “I think you must have Italian in your blood,” Giacomo declared. “That’s why our Joanna likes you.”

  Marcus looked at Joanna, and he could swear she was blushing, but the light was too muted for him to be able to really tell. He couldn’t remember when he’d last seen a woman blush. Joanna was full of contradictions. She acted and dressed in an edgy, kind of tough way sometimes, but what you saw was not exactly what you got.

  As they ate and talked, he enjoyed watching her. She didn’t pick at her food the way so many of the women he’d dated in the past had. The food was delicious; Marcus liked it, too. She also seemed to enjoy the excellent Montepulciano he had ordered from the wine list.

  Determined to learn as much as he could about her while he had the chance, he said, “You mentioned your family earlier. Do you have siblings?”

  She had just cut a piece of chicken and answered before putting it in her mouth, “Four.”

  “Four!” No one Marcus knew had a large family. “Younger? Older?”

  “Tony, Mike and Joey are older. Billy’s younger.”

  “You’re the only girl?”

  She nodded and twirled some of the spaghetti that had come with her entrée onto her fork.

  “Do your brothers worry about you as much as I worry about Vanessa?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m afraid they do.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “Thankfully, I don’t live at home. Neither do any of them, but still...when we get together, I get the third degree, especially from the three that are older.” Making a face, she added, “It drives me crazy. Even though I know they just give me a hard time because they care.” She popped the forkful of spaghetti into her mouth. A tiny drop of marinara sauce landed on her chin. Not the least bit embarrassed, she blotted it with her napkin.

  Her smile was enchanting. Right then, he wanted nothing more than to lean across the table and kiss her. Even the thought of kissing her caused his body to react in areas he’d rather it didn’t. At least not while he was in a public place and could do nothing about it.

  For the remainder of their meal, he tried to tamp down the growing sexual desire being with her had evoked. He had never liked feeling out of control, and the way he felt about the woman across the table was too much, too soon and too unsettling. He had to be sure he was doing the right thing before he went any further in this relationship, that she really could be the right woman for him, because the one thing he was clear about was that Joanna wasn’t a woman he could easily walk away from.

  Somehow he managed to get through the rest of the meal without doing or saying anything he might be sorry for later.

  They both declined coffee or dessert, she had her leftovers boxed and put in a plastic bag and Marcus had just inserted a credit card in the folder containing the check when he noticed the street glittering under the light of a nearby streetlamp. “It’s raining,” he said.

  “I think it just started,” Joanna said. “Doesn’t seem to be coming down very hard, though.”

  “I’ll go get my car and pick you up outside. That way you won’t get wet.” He handed the folder to a passing waiter.

  “That’s not necessary. A little rain won’t kill me.”

  Normally Marcus didn’t take no for an answer. Yet when their eyes met across the table, he didn’t think he was misreading what he saw in their dark depths. She didn’t want the evening to end with him dropping her off at her front door, either—rain or no rain. All the suppressed desire that had flooded him earlier returned.

  The rain turned out to be only a light drizzle, so they didn’t linger under the awning that sheltered the doorway to Giacomo’s. Instead, he put his arm around her protectively, and together they hurried down the street.

  In minutes, they reached the corner of her street. They had to cross over and walk several buildings to the east before they’d get to the entrance to her building. The rain was coming down more steadily now, and they had to wait for several cars to pass, but when the street was clear, they dashed across. They had made it up and over the curb when suddenly she slipped and stumbled. He grabbed her with both arms to prevent her from falling down.

  The rain, and everything else, faded into the background.

  The cars going by, the light from a nearby café, the sound of a siren somewhere in the distance, any possible onlookers—none of these things mattered. Marcus was barely aware of them.

  Only the woman he was holding was important.

  He tightened his arms around her.

  She looked up. Her eyes shone in the dark. The rain had flattened her unruly hair and glistened on her eyelashes. She looked totally beautiful to him.

  Without a word or another thought but how much he wanted her, he lowered his head and fitted his mouth to hers.

  * * *

  Joanna’s heart went nuts. Despite the rain, despite how wet she now was, despite everything, when his mouth claimed hers, her body felt as if she was having a hot flash. Or at least what she imagined hot flashes felt like.

  The kiss—oh, what a kiss!—became two, then three. His tongue delved, he crushed her to him and every part of her—heart, body, brain—responded. If they’d been inside, in her apartment, she would have wanted him to tear off her clothes, to throw her down and have his way with her. She couldn’t seem to get close enough. Every fiber of her being wanted, had to have, more.

  How long they stood there kissing like two kids who had just awakened to the wonders of sex and couldn’t keep their hands off each other, Joanna couldn’t have said. Only when someone in a passing car honked the horn several times, with accompanying catcalls, did she reluctantly pull away.

  Her head spun from the effect of those kisses, and from the knowledge that he had kissed her. She was still breathing hard, and her heart wouldn’t slow. She didn’t know what to do...or where to look...or what to say.

  He seemed just as stunned as she was.

  “C’mon,” he finally said, putting his arm around her again. “Let’s get you inside.” His voice sounded gruff and uneven.

  Joanna let herself be led. It was only when they entered her building and she saw the shrewd look Thomas gave her that she made a supreme effort to pull herself together enough to say, “The rain caught us walking back from dinner.”

  “So I see,” Thomas said. His normally impassive face had a knowing expression on it.

  Joanna kept her head high as she and Marcus we
nt to the elevator and pushed the button to summon it. Screw Thomas. Who cared what he thought? All she cared about was what Marcus thought. Even after the elevator doors closed and they were on the way to the fifth floor, he didn’t say anything. She bit her lip. He didn’t look at her, either.

  Was he sorry?

  Oh, God.

  He probably was sorry. Maybe he even thought she’d only pretended to fall so he’d have to catch her. That she’d somehow planned what had happened next.

  She swallowed.

  Well, if he was sorry, she guessed she’d soon know. And she’d handle it. No matter what it cost her.

  * * *

  He’d done it now, Marcus thought as he followed Joanna into her apartment. Instead of using caution and making a rational decision, he’d jumped right smack into the danger zone. There was no going back.

  Did he want to go back?

  Kissing Joanna had only intensified his desire for her, yet he knew it was too soon for more. He didn’t know her well enough yet, and he couldn’t afford or deal with another mistake and the emotional upheaval it caused, for he wasn’t cold enough or calculated enough to just walk away without caring whom he might have hurt. This time, and especially with this woman, he had to be damn sure. And he couldn’t be that positive until he’d had enough time alone to think about what had already happened between them tonight.

  To make a rational decision, not one ruled by his hormones.

  He shouldn’t even have come up to the apartment. He should have said good-night at the door, then made certain she was safely inside.

  But how could he have done that without at least mentioning what had happened between them? He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t kissed her like a starving man.

  He was still trying to figure out what to say to make a graceful exit when she turned around and, meeting his gaze with something very close to dignity, said, “Marcus, I think we need to cool it, don’t you?”

  Relief and disappointment warred for dominance. Now he wanted nothing more than to yank her back into his arms and kiss her senseless and after that, to lead her into her bedroom and show her how much he did not want to cool it.

  But something about her expression warned him he’d better not start something he couldn’t finish, something that might ruin everything for both of them. He’d better be sensible and rational and very, very sure about his feelings for her and where lovemaking between them would ultimately lead before he leaped...again.

  Regretfully, he nodded. “You’re right.” He refused to say he was sorry, because he wasn’t, and he didn’t want her to think he was. Showing someone you found her desirable wasn’t a sin. Going forward if you weren’t serious would be, especially with a woman like Joanna.

  Bending forward, he kissed her cheek. “Good night, Joanna. Thank you for a wonderful evening.” He smiled at her. “Now go get dry. I’ll feel guilty if you catch a cold.”

  Without waiting for her to answer, he turned and walked out the door.

  * * *

  When the door closed behind him, Joanna began to shiver uncontrollably. A minute later her face was wet with something other than rain.

  She’d been right.

  He was sorry.

  Thank God she hadn’t made a fool of herself by showing him how bereft she felt right now and how much she’d wanted him to contradict her and say he didn’t agree, that he wanted them to make love. Tonight. She closed her eyes. Those kisses! How could he have kissed her like that if he didn’t want to make love to her?

  Why was she so stupid?

  Why hadn’t she backed away? She’d known he was going to kiss her. She could have stopped him.

  You didn’t want to.

  No. She hadn’t wanted to. And, being a man, he had taken what he wanted in the moment. If the same thing had happened here in her apartment, they probably would have gone on to the next step, and then, when he’d had a chance to think about it afterward, and realized he’d made a big mistake, she’d have been in a lot worse predicament. Because kiss or no kiss, romp in bed or no romp in bed, she still had to see Marcus if she wanted the show in his gallery.

  Now her disappointment and emptiness morphed into anger. Not at Marcus. Anger at herself. Grow up. You knew any romantic relationship with Marcus would never work out. So why are you so unhappy?

  She should be thanking the Lord that Marcus had seen it, too, and that he’d made it easy for her to extricate herself from a no-win situation. If he’d tried to apologize or say what had happened had been a mistake, she’d have died. As it was, her pride and her dignity were intact.

  This disappointment was just a blip on her horizon.

  She would get over it.

  Wouldn’t she?

  Chapter Ten

  Joanna and her mother spent most of Saturday looking at rentals. Georgie had recommended a real estate agent her family knew, and the woman, incongruously named Bunny—“It’s not short for anything. My mother just liked the name!”—was a whiz who lived up to Georgie’s description of a go-getter who knew her business.

  Still, the whole process took time. A couple of the listings Bunny showed them were pretty good—not perfect, but acceptable—and Joanna could have been content with either, but she still wanted to see everything available before making a final decision. If she didn’t, she’d always wonder if she had missed out on the perfect place.

  A few minutes after three, she found it.

  The space, a large storefront that was already divided between the front area, which was a perfect size for the kind of showroom she wanted, and a much larger back area, where she and a couple of assistants could have an ideal workroom. There was also another small room behind the workroom that could serve as an office or even a storage room if she wanted her office to be private, as well as a kitchen and a bathroom. Plus, there was an apartment on the second level with two bedrooms! The second could be turned into anything Joanna wanted. She could use it for her private office or even just a creative haven away from everything and everyone.

  And unbelievably, the rental space was located in Belltown, only blocks from Marcus’s gallery. It was an ideal neighborhood, both for commerce and for living. Why, she could even walk to the Pike Place Market if she wanted to, and the Queen Anne area, where Georgie had grown up, was also within walking distance. In addition, there was a public parking lot nearby, so her customers wouldn’t have to hassle with street parking if they didn’t want to. And by leasing the space, she would get two parking slots in a garage next door, so she’d be covered.

  Joanna could hardly believe it when she got her first look at the listing. They were asking more than she had wanted to pay, but she knew, even without Bunny telling her, that the location and space were worth it.

  “We could offer a little less,” Bunny said in answer to Joanna’s unspoken query, “but I doubt they’ll agree. This really is prime space, Joanna. It just came on the market, and someone’s bound to snap it up soon.”

  “It does seem perfect,” Ann Marie said. “The only thing is...”

  Joanna frowned. “What?”

  “It’s not secure like where you live now. Your dad and I, we’ll worry.”

  “She can install a good alarm system,” Bunny interjected quickly. “She’d want to do that with any ground-floor space. And she can put a double lock on the door at the foot of the stairs leading to the apartment, so she’ll have extra security that way, too.”

  “I’ll be perfectly safe,” Joanna said. Then she grinned. “I can get a dog!” She’d always wanted a dog. She loved her cat, Tabitha, but she’d always dreamed of having a German shepherd like the one her doctor had kept in her office for years as a mascot/guard/companion.

  “Well...” her mother said, obviously weakening. “I guess your Dad might feel okay about this place if you had a do
g.”

  It was on the tip of Joanna’s tongue to say that she was too old for her father to still think he could make her decisions for her and hadn’t they settled that a long time ago? But she restrained herself—why upset her mother?—and said instead, “I’ll take it, Bunny.”

  Bunny smiled happily. “I’ll call the listing agent right now. Cross your fingers he hasn’t already gotten a contract on it.”

  Now that she’d seen this space, Joanna knew she would be very disappointed if she didn’t get it. So she not only crossed her fingers, she said a few Hail Marys while Bunny placed the call.

  In the meantime, Joanna’s mother was walking around, inspecting everything and making notes on a little pad she always carried in her purse. “You’re going to need more electrical outlets in the back room, Joanna. We’ll get Uncle Walt to do that for you.” Joanna’s uncle Walt, an electrician, was married to her mother’s younger sister, Tessie. “And our Mike can install some blinds you can pull down to close off those big front windows at night.”

  Joanna’s gaze met Bunny’s, and Bunny winked. She was currently on hold at the listing agency. “Mom,” Joanna said, “I should hire you to run my business for me.”

  Ann Marie looked up from her notes. “And if I didn’t have the yarn shop, I’d jump at the chance!”

  Joanna was afraid to think too far ahead in case something went wrong, because Bunny was still on hold, but her mind spun. Oh, if this place already had a contract on it, she didn’t know what she’d do. None of the others she’d looked at could hold a candle to this one, and she knew now that she’d seen it, she wouldn’t be happy with anything else.

  Finally Bunny was connected to the listing agent. After telling him Joanna wanted the place and she would be sending the contract over within the hour, she listened for a few seconds, then gave Joanna a broad smile and a thumbs-up.

  Yes! Joanna almost forgot how miserable she’d been the night before as she and her mother hugged each other and Joanna did a little happy dance. But once the contract was signed and Joanna had written a check to accompany it, and Bunny had said she’d email Joanna a final copy from the listing agency and then taken them back to Joanna’s apartment, where her mother kissed her goodbye and said to call her if she needed anything, Joanna’s spirits flagged a bit.

 

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