But the truth was far more complicated. It had to do with wanting, with hoping, that Jake’s kisses hadn’t turned her inside out because they’d been from Jake. That her response to him had been no different than it would be to any man, that it wasn’t just his particular kisses that could make her feel as if time were standing still.
“Well?”
Emily looked up into Jake’s face. He was waiting for her answer but she knew better than to tell him the things she’d been thinking. She might have been nalve about French menus and good-night kisses, but she knew better than to tell a man like Jake that his kisses robbed her of coherent thought and all but liquefied her bones.
“After the restaurant thing ...I just—I felt like a ninny. I wanted to be cool and sophisticated. So, when I realized he was aiming for my cheek, I turned my head at the last second and-and he ended up kissing my mouth, instead.” She swallowed hard. “And—and...”
“And?”
“And...” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Nothing.”
“Nothing,” Jake said. He knew he sounded like an idiot trapped in an echo chamber but what was a man supposed to say to a woman when she told him what it was like to kiss another man? “What do you mean, nothing?”
“No bells. No lights. No flutter in my... No flutter,” she said, her face flaming. “It was pretty much like kissing a friend. I just didn’t feel anything.”
Jake wanted to shout hosannas. “Really,” he said calmly.
“Really. And Thad knew it. He had to. I pulled back and I stuck out my hand and thanked him for supper and...” She gave a long, deep sigh. “And, that was it. There I was, kissing a man women dream about, and I bungled it.”
“You didn’t bungle it when I kissed you,” Jake said softly.
“I know. And I don’t understand it.” Her eyes sought his. “A kiss is just a kiss, after all.”
Jake smiled a little. “That’s what an old song says, yeah.”
Gently, he framed her face with his hands. His gaze fell to her lips, then rose again. “But it’s not true.”
“No?”
“No.” His voice was calm. That, in itself, was remarkable because her embarrassed whispers were turning him on as much as if she were touching him. “Every man has a different technique.”
“You think?”
“I know. Show me how you kissed him,” Jake said, in a voice he barely recognized as his own.
“How I kissed Thad?” A warning bell sounded softly in Emily’s ears. Don’t, she told herself, oh, don’t do this. But Jake’s thumbs were moving over her skin; his eyes were blazing into hers. “Well...” Her heart began to race. “I told you. He bent down to kiss my cheek.”
“Like this?” Jake said, tilting his face towards hers.
“Exactly. But at the last second, I sort of turned my head...”
“Turn it,” he said, and his voice grew even deeper. “The way you did last night. Fine. Now, do the rest.”
“Kiss you?”
“Yes. Kiss...”
She did. She tilted her face to his, brought her lips to his in a kiss so innocent, so gentle, that he felt his heart turn over.
“And Jennett didn’t intensify the kiss?” he said, or thought he said. The blood was pounding in his ears; he was having trouble hearing anything but its heavy beat.
“He tried,” Emily whispered.
“How? Did he put his arms around you, like this?”
Jake slipped his arms around her and drew her to him. Emily bit back a moan.
“No. I didn’t give him the chance.”
“Well, just in case he does, the next time, let’s work on this a little, okay? Look up at me. That’s it. Now, tilt your head, just a bit...” God. Oh, God, what was he doing? Why didn’t he let go of her? Why didn’t he write her a check for six months’ salary, for a year’s salary, give her a glowing letter of commendation and send her packing? “Now, part your lips, Em. Excellent. Stay like that. That’s fine. Fine.”
He bent his head and lightly, very lightly, feathered his mouth over hers. It was barely a kiss; it was a whisper of a kiss but the feel of her lips, the sweetness of them, instantly drove all the blood from his head straight into his groin.
“Like that?” she said shakily.
Yes. Like that. Exactly like that...
“No,” Jake said. “Not quite. You have to open your mouth just a little bit more. Good girl. Now, relax. Lean into me...”
He groaned. He couldn’t help it. The taste of her. Oh, the taste.
“How’s that?” he said, his voice low, his body hard, his brain on the brink of combustion. “Better?”
“Better,” Emily said, and sighed. “Much better.”
Jake dipped his head again, settled his mouth over hers, slid the tip of his tongue between her lips and she made a sound, the sound a woman makes as she surrenders herself to a man, and he knew that if this went any further, if he didn’t stop it now, he was going to take her. Strip away her clothes, all that foolish wool, carry her to the couch and take her...
“Jake?” she whispered, and she arched against him, kissed him, bit delicately into his bottom lip...and shattered his control, completely.
He sank down into the chair behind his desk with Emily in his lap. The clip fell from her hair as he tunneled his fingers into it; he felt her shudder and then her arms were tight around his neck, his hands were under her skirt, on her legs, her thighs; she was moaning into his ear and he was lost, he was lost, he was...
The phone rang.
“Jake,” Emily gasped, but he shook his head, cupped her face, took her mouth in deep, hot kisses...
The phone rang, and rang, and finally Jake snarled, reached for it and jammed it against his ear.
“Hello,” he said, “and this better be...”
The look on his face changed. He sat up straight, so suddenly that Emily almost fell off his lap. One glance at Jake’s face and she scrambled to her feet.
“Glad to hear it,” he said, after a minute. His voice was frigid, his eyes icy as he hit the mute button and held out the telephone. “It’s for you.”
“For...?”
“It’s your boyfriend. Jennett.” Jake’s teeth glittered in a predatory smile. “You forgot to tell me why you can’t make that party. You have another date with him this evening.”
Emily’s heart tumbled. “I didn’t forget. Anyway, you didn’t ask.”
“No. No, I sure as hell didn’t.” He shot her another terrible smile. “Why would I? It’s your life, Emily. Who you see is none of my business. Besides, I’m flattered.”
“Flattered?”
“Sure. It’s not every day I’m used as a stand-in for the real performance.”
Emily turned pale. “You can’t believe that!”
“Can’t I?” Jake grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “Have fun tonight, babe. Just remember to give credit where credit is due, when you start turning ol’ Thad on.”
“It’s Thad who’ll deserve the credit,” she hissed, “not you!” Angry tears blurred her vision. She turned her back on Jake as she put the phone to her ear. “Hi,” she said brightly. “No, no problem. Uh-huh. Yes, I’d love to. I had fun, too. The Gondola, at six? Great, Thad. I’ll see you then.”
She heard the click as Thad hung up. Then she slammed the phone into its cradle and swung around, ready to do battle, but she was alone in the office.
Jake was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
EMILY looked up from her computer monitor and checked the clock.
It was almost five, time to stop work and get ready for her date with Thad.
She finished what she’d been typing, saved it to a disk, exited the program and shut off her computer.
Jake still hadn’t returned to the office. She’d spoken to him once, in midafternoon, when he’d phoned to issue some crisp commands. The call had been brief and to the point, with no time wasted on pleasantries. He’d simply ticked off a list of things he want
ed done, she’d said “Yes, Mr. McBride,” or “No, Mr. McBride,” and that was it.
Well, that was fine. It was the way it should be, the way it would be, from now on.
She’d had lots of time to think, after Jake had stormed off, and she’d reached a decision. Not the obvious one, she thought as she put away a file folder, not the first one that had popped into her head, because what was the point of quitting a perfectly good job when there was a far simpler solution?
All she had to do was turn back the clock.
Everything had been great until that fateful moment Jake had smiled and told her to stop calling him Mr. McBride. Such a simple thing, that easy descent into informality, but it had turned life upside down. Well, it was time to set things straight again.
When she saw Jake—when she saw Mr. McBride—tomorrow morning, she would tell him that they were going back to the old rules. She’d call him by his proper name, and he’d stay out of her personal life.
It went without saying that he’d never kiss her, or touch her, again.
Emily rose from her chair, took her purse and made her way to the ladies room. She switched on the light, went to the sink and briskly washed her hands and face.
She was glad she’d decided against leaving her job. It would be foolish to give up an excellent position with excellent pay for what were, basically, simple lapses in judgment. And Mr. McBride wouldn’t fire her. He might be an easy mark for the Crystals and Brandies of this world but when it came to business, he was a tough, take-no-prisoners warrior. She did her job well, and he knew it. Hadn’t he promoted her and given her a fat raise just a few days ago?
Emily turned off the water, reached for a towel and dried her hands and face.
Yes, he’d stormed out of the office in a rage but by now, he’d have calmed down enough to realize that the best thing he could do, the best thing they could both do, would be to go back to where they’d been. She’d be Emily, he’d be Mr. McBride, and the closest they’d ever come to anything of a personal nature would be on Friday evenings, when he’d smile politely and wish her a pleasant weekend.
Now to get ready for her date with Thad Jennett.
She leaned closer to the mirror and looked at herself critically. She saw wide-set chocolate-brown eyes, a nose that was okay set over a mouth that was nothing special. Average, she thought, just plain, average Emily.
She poked at her hair, neatly confined at the nape of her neck. It looked all right, she supposed; not sexy or glamorous the way the hairdos on all those women last night had looked, but at least the strands weren’t curling this time. She hated those curls; they looked wild and uncontrolled and that wasn’t her, that wasn’t her, at all.
A touch of dark brown mascara might have been a good idea, if she’d known Thad had really meant it when he’d said he’d call. So would a better-looking outfit. Not that she had one. The only nonpractical things in her closet were the silk suit she’d mentioned to Jake—to Mr. McBride—and a bridesmaid’s gown. She’d bought the suit for Serena’s wedding and the gown for Angela’s.
The gown was out of the question. It was long. It was hilly. Mostly, it was puce. The suit wouldn’t have worked, either. It was an okay shade of pale apricot but she’d have frozen wearing it in weather like this, although none of those women last night had seemed terribly concerned about freezing in their excuses for dresses. That Crystal creature, especially, hadn’t been concerned about frostbite but then, she’d probably figured some man would warm her.
Not some man.
Jake.
Had he? Had he taken Crystal out, after the party? Had he taken her home, put heat and color into her skin with his hands and mouth...
Emily glared at her reflection.
“Stop it,” she said sharply.
What Jake did with women was none of her concern. She worked for him, that was all. Besides, she had Thad to think about now. There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t sigh at her good fortune. Thad was handsome. He was interesting. He was famous enough so that women shot her envious little glances when they’d had supper last night...
But he wasn’t Jake.
Emily frowned.
No. He wasn’t Jake, and a good thing, too. Thad was a gentleman. He’d never hold her prisoner in a public elevator, kiss her until she was breathless, press her back against the wall and touch her until she was mindless with need...
Just thinking about it made her head swim.
Maybe some women liked that approach but she wasn’t one of them. She’d never fantasized about being conquered. Why would she? An intelligent woman wanted time to think, to make informed, clearly planned choices. Thad was a man who’d give her that time. No sudden moves, with Thad. No hot, demanding kisses. Just reason, and a careful telegraphing of his intentions, the way it had been last night.
Thad wouldn’t overwhelm her senses, as Jake did. He wouldn’t drive all rational thought from her head.
Emily lifted her chin and eyed herself in the mirror again.
She was really looking forward to tonight. Too bad she hadn’t told Thad she needed time to change. Well, it wasn’t too late to do a little touch-up. She pulled off the hair clip, fluffed her hair. Then she opened her jacket, undid a couple of blouse buttons. She hiked up her skirt, too.
It had worked last night. She’d proven she could get attention from men. But she didn’t want attention from men, she wanted it from Jake...
Emily blinked. She pulled her hair back into its clip, buttoned her blouse, closed the jacket and rolled down the waistband of her skirt.
“Take it or leave it, Thad Jennett,” she said, “this is the eat me.”
La Gondola was Chez Louis by another name, or at least in another language.
It was small, intimate and dimly lit. And if the captain’s greeting was anything to go by, she wasn’t going to understand the menu here, either.
Still, only a coward would turn tail and run. So what if her comprehension of menu-Italian began with Chianti and ended with lasagna? So what if she was wearing more yards of fabric than all the other female diners were wearing, combined, or if each of them must have spent the whole afternoon on hair and makeup?
Looks, as her mother had often told her, weren’t everything. She was bright, she was well-educated. She could carry on a conversation, get by with ordering Chianti and lasagna. As for the rest...wearing a designer dress and having a perfect face and an even more perfect mane of hair wasn’t everything.
On the other hand, maybe it was.
And maybe turning tail and running was the better part o, valor, but it was too late for that. ‘Mad had already risen to his feet to greet her as the captain bowed her into the booth.
“EmilyDarling,” he said, touching his cheek to hers as he clasped her hands, “you’re here, at last.”
Yes, she thought, she was here. And now that she was, she wished she weren’t. Not because she was dressed wrong, or because she knew she’d never be able to read the menu, but because she was here with the wrong man.
Her name wasn’t EmilyDarling, and she hated air-kisses, and Thad was wearing half a bottle too much of cologne. Jake never wore cologne; his scent was simply of soap and man, and she had the feeling that sharing chili dogs on a sidewalk with him really would be the best kind of fine dining...
She blinked.
“Yes,” she said gaily, “I’m here, at last.”
Thad drew her down beside him. “Did you have a long day, EmilyDarling?” He smiled. “You probably did. That boss of yours doesn’t give you time to think. I’ll bet he keeps you chained to the desk.”
“He doesn’t. I mean, that’s not why I’m late. The crosstown bus—” She stopped, took a breath, and started again. “Sorry. You were joking, of course.”
Thad smiled. “Your innocence is so charming. Well, I know just the way to relax you. Let’s have a drink.”
“Chianti,” Emily said quickly.
Thad laughed. “Chiant
i,” he said, and laughed again. “Don’t be silly, EmilyDarling. La Gondola is known for its wine list.”
A hovering waiter handed him what looked like the Manhattan telephone directory. Thad opened it, glanced through it, and ordered something unpronounceable. Moments later, a bottle was brought to the table and opened. Thad sniffed the cork, swished some wine in his mouth, and nodded.
“Excellent,” he said briskly and the waiter poured the wine. Emily lifted her glass when Thad lifted his and took a sip of what surely had to be paint thinner. “Isn’t that delightfu1, EmilyDarling?”
“Lovely,” Emily replied, and tried not to cough.
“Well,” Thad said briskly, “did you hear what happened at the Bishikoffs’ the other night?”
Emily didn’t know who the Bishikoffs were, much less what had happened. It seemed to involve a dining-room table, a frantic rodent, and a rather athletic Persian cat. She tried to make sense of the story, got as far as feeling sorry for the poor mouse, then gave up listening and just smiled and nodded and said “oh, really,” whenever it seemed appropriate.
“Wonderful story,” Thad said, chuckling at his own humor, “don’t you think?”
“Wonderful,” she agreed.
What am I doing here? she thought. And where was Jake, right now? Was he out with some woman? Was he looking across a table like this one, smiling into her eyes? Would he go home at the evening’s end or would he spend the long night locked in another woman’s embrace...
“Emily?” Thad said. “What would you like?”
Emily jerked her head up. There was a menu lying in front of her. It made the wine list look like a short story.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, and opened the menu. If lasagna was listed in elegant gold script anywhere on those parchment pages, she didn’t see it. Determinedly, she snapped the menu closed. “I’ll have pasta.”
“Excellent choice, EmilyDarling. How about trying the house special? You’ll love it.”
“I’m sure I will.” Well, she would. She liked lasagna better but pasta had just popped into her head. How wrong could you go with spaghetti?
The Bedroom Business Page 9