by Kwan, Coleen
“I’m sure Jack doesn’t want to be held up by a charity ball.” Louisa stalked after her sister.
“But it’s the highlight of the social calendar. Everyone who’s anyone is fighting to be there. It’s going to be a stunning evening!” Kirsten spread wide her hands in exaggeration.
“It could also be a colossal embarrassment if we don’t get the finer details sorted out,” Louisa retorted.
Kirsten rounded on her sister. “Oh, must we bring all that up again?”
“You insisted you’d take care of the prizes and the auction, and you’ve done nothing! All you care about is what dress you’re going to wear.”
“And you’re just jealous because I bagged the Galliano dress you were after!”
The two sisters faced off, almost spitting at each other. Before they could continue, Lachlan thrust himself in between them.
“I’m sick of this constant bickering. You two will be the death of me. Why can’t you cooperate? It’s not hard, is it, organizing a charity ball?”
“It is when I have to work with someone as incompetent as her,” Louisa spat out.
Kirsten sniffed and stuck up her nose. “Well fine, you don’t have to. You can do it all by yourself now. I resign from the organizing committee.”
“You can’t dump me with everything at the last minute!”
Kirsten folded her arms. “I have no choice. I can’t work with you.”
Furious, Louisa turned to her father. “See what I have to put up with all the time?”
Lachlan lifted his hands in a gesture of weary exasperation. “If Kirsten doesn’t want to do it, then fine. There’ll be less arguing. Louisa, from now on you’re in charge of the ball.”
“But how am I going to get all her tasks done on top of mine?”
“I’ll get someone to help you.” Lachlan huffed for a moment, his forehead furrowed, before he snapped his fingers. “Grace. I’ll get Grace Owens to help you. She’s good at this sort of last-minute crisis stuff.”
“You can’t be serious.” Jack spun around. “You can’t do that to Grace.”
His grandfather lowered his head. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can’t saddle Grace with these snafus all the time. It’s not fair. She deserves better.”
Lachlan’s face hardened. “Has she been grousing to you on the side?”
“Hell, if she did, she’d have every reason to grouse. For years you’ve been dumping her with the stuff no one else wants and ignoring what she might want.”
His grandfather bristled. “She’s never complained to me.”
“Probably you’ve never bothered to listen to her.” His stomach knotted at the thought of Grace being lumped with the sorry dregs of his aunts’ mismanagement. “You’ve been taking advantage of her good nature for far too long, and sooner or later she’s going to get sick of it.”
“You’re wrong. I’m very fond of Grace, and I’ve always treated her well. She has a bright future at Macintyre’s. She’d be mad to think anything else.”
She’s already thinking of leaving, Jack wanted to blurt out, but he bit his tongue. Grace had asked him not to say anything, and he wouldn’t betray her confidence, even though it riled him to see his grandfather still taking her for granted.
“I’ll ask Grace tomorrow if she minds lending you a hand,” Lachlan said to Louisa. “I’m sure she’ll say yes.” He threw a pointed glance at Jack. “She’s very efficient at everything she does, and she knows how much I appreciate her hard work.”
Yeah, right. His grandfather didn’t know the real Grace, didn’t know the deep emotions she hid beneath her calm exterior. Grace had needs—powerful, profound needs—and she deserved to have them met.
Conversation switched to another topic as they went in to dinner. After the meal, as they returned to the living room for coffee, his aunt Louisa collared him and drew him aside. Reluctantly he allowed her to lead him into the library, wary of the single-minded look on her face.
“Are you planning on coming back to Macintyre’s permanently?” she asked without preamble as soon as they were alone.
He frowned. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“As a matter of fact I do. I’m not going to stay silent about this. Cameron’s been working extremely hard since he joined the company, and Dad is very pleased with him.” She pursed her lips. “It’s not fair for you to swan in at a moment’s notice, thinking you can slip back into your old job. You’ve had your chance. It’s Cameron’s turn now.”
Irritation spiked through him at his aunt’s presumption. He hauled in a breath and kept his voice firm as he countered, “I understand that you’re looking out for your son’s interests, but Cameron can fight his own battles. Besides, he’s already told me he doesn’t want to be CEO. He wants to transfer back to Perth to be closer to his daughters.”
“That’s not true! He wouldn’t jeopardize his career like that.”
Jack shrugged, impatient with his aunt’s deliberate obtuseness. “Believe what you like, but maybe you should listen to what Cameron is saying.” He moved toward the door, keen to cut the conversation short.
“No, I don’t believe any of it. Cameron’s just saying that to make you feel more welcome. He’s always been accommodating like that. But deep down, he doesn’t want you back at Macintyre’s, and, no offense, but neither do I.”
He uttered a harsh laugh, tossing over his shoulder as he left the library, “Who knows, Louisa, maybe your wish will come true.”
He shouldn’t have been all that surprised by his aunt’s hostility. But her antagonism was uncalled for, and he was in no mood to linger with his family. He drank his coffee quickly, then made his excuses and took his leave.
As he stepped into the elevator, his other aunt, Kirsten, bustled up in her coat and hopped into the lift with him.
She favored him with a broad smile. “It was so lovely catching up with you, Jack. We must do this again sometime soon.”
He gave a bland reply, not for one minute fooled by her friendliness. Like Louisa, she was after something.
“I noticed Louisa talking to you after dinner.” She made a show of examining her manicured fingernails. “You shouldn’t pay much attention to her. She’s so obsessed with Cameron, she doesn’t know what’s good for Macintyre’s.”
Jack sighed to himself. He should have known the two aunts would have already bickered over his unexpected arrival and what it meant for them. “And you do?” he asked smoothly.
“I do have shares in the company, you know. So of course I take a keen interest in it. Dad is getting on these days. We need someone at the helm with a bit of vim, and, let’s face it, Cameron isn’t the man for that. In my opinion, you’d make an excellent CEO.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not coming back to Macintyre’s.”
The lift pinged as it reached the ground floor and the doors slid open. Kirsten trotted alongside him as he walked out the building. “Oh, but of course you have to. You belong at Macintyre’s. You were born to take over the top job.”
He gave a noncommittal grunt. “My taxi’s here. Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
“No, my driver’s waiting for me.” A chauffeur hopped out of a nearby Mercedes and opened the rear door for her. “Perhaps I could take you back to your hotel?”
He definitely didn’t want to protract this conversation any longer. “Thanks, but I’ll take the taxi. Good night, Aunt Kirsten.”
Fresh annoyance bubbled in him as he got into the taxi. He hadn’t realized his return would stir up such a hornet’s nest. Everyone seemed to want a piece of him, and no one cared what he wanted. No one, except Grace. He heaved in a breath as his thoughts turned back to Grace, and his exasperation seeped away to be replaced by anticipation of what might happen between them tonight.
Last night he’d told himself it wouldn’t be wise to start an affair with Grace, but now he wasn’t as sure. There was a wildness about her that sur
prised not just him but her, too, he thought. She might not think of herself as racy, but she couldn’t deny the scorching physical attraction between them, and now, after the difficult dinner, he didn’t want to fight the pull either. He wanted to give in to it, revel in it, exult in it.
Last night he’d overplayed his hand by arousing her to a fever pitch despite her protests, and then withdrawing and demanding she come to him for satisfaction. Tonight would be different, very different. He would start out slow, dismantling her defenses one by one, and when she had surrendered, he would make love to her all night long.
The image of her soft, naked body in his arms, the melting chocolate of her eyes, her thick hair tumbling over her shoulders, made his blood tingle. His trousers tightened, and any lingering vestiges of tiredness vanished at the thought of what awaited him at the end of the taxi ride.
Chapter Eight
It was almost eleven when Jack let himself into Grace’s apartment, using the spare key she’d given him. The lights were on. Grace appeared and gestured him to follow her into the living room, where she stood holding her hands together, an uncomfortable expression on her face.
“How was dinner with your family?” she asked.
“The usual.” He hauled in a deep breath as he examined her. Tonight she was casual in yoga pants and a stretchy, white T-shirt, with her hair falling loose around her shoulders, the way he liked. He hadn’t seen her all day, and he had a craving to inhale her fresh gardenia scent into his lungs. “What’s up?” he asked, noting the faint line between her eyes.
“Rose, my flatmate, came home earlier than expected. I took the liberty of packing up your things so she could have her room back. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” He threaded his fingers through his hair as the implications of what she’d said sunk into him. After the tense evening with his family, he’d been looking forward to focusing on pleasanter problems—like how to separate Grace from her clothes—but now it appeared he’d have to take a rain check on that. “It’s no problem. I’ll check into a hotel tonight.”
“No, it’s late, and I can’t throw you out in the middle of the night. You can sleep in my room tonight and find a hotel tomorrow.” His eyebrows shot up, and she hastily added, “I’ll take the couch.”
He glanced at the pillow and folded blanket on the couch beside them and shook his head. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“Jack, you’re too tall. You’ll never fit.”
Resting his hands on his hips, he shot her a meaningful stare. “You know, there’s an obvious solution to this problem.”
Her cheeks warmed instantly, betraying the fact she’d been thinking the same thing as him. The knowledge set his blood pumping. “I don’t know if I’d call what you have in mind a solution.”
“Hey, look, do you think I’d try anything on you while your flatmate is just across the hall? I’m simply proposing we both get a good night’s sleep in your nice, comfortable bed. Nothing else.”
Yeah, right, and pigs might fly, too. Knowing her friend was only a few meters away might cramp his style, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop the sparks flying between them. Even now a part of his brain was focused on how round and ripe her breasts looked and devising ways of getting rid of that T-shirt. How would he keep his hands to himself if they were in the same bed and she was lying a few inches away from him?
Grace eyed him doubtfully. She folded her arms under her breasts, making them boost up so that he momentarily lost track of his thoughts. He swallowed down his drool.
“So you’re saying we’ll just be sleeping.” She emphasized the last word. “Nothing else?”
He couldn’t help grinning. “Not unless you want to.”
“So it’s all up to me?”
“Yep.” Right now he’d agree to anything just to remain with her.
“Nothing like last night is going to happen.” She shot him a stern frown.
He nodded. “Nothing.”
Studying her shining, cinnamon hair drifting around her cheeks, he had the urge to fold her into his arms and immerse his face in her hair. He just wanted to hold her. Just hold her and let all his worries slip away from him. The longing spiked in his blood like a shot of tequila.
“Hey, I’m too tired to do anything but sleep,” he said.
A sympathetic smile tugged at her lips. “Did your aunts try your patience that much?”
“They’d try the patience of the Pope.”
He bit off the end of the sentence as the knowledge of what was in store for her pricked him. He didn’t want to tell her about the charity ball, didn’t want to sour the mood between them.
“I’m sorry.” Her smile faded, and she looked remorseful. “If only I’d realized how difficult things would be for you.”
He could say the same about her. He lifted his shoulders. “Let’s forget our problems for now.”
“Do you want to hit the sack?” she asked.
He nodded and followed her into her bedroom, feeling like a traitor for withholding information. She would find out soon enough about the frigging ball, he argued with himself. And why should he have to break the bad news to her when it was all Lachlan’s doing?
They took turns in the bathroom. While Grace was brushing her teeth, Jack pulled on a T-shirt and track pants and climbed into bed. Electric anticipation hummed through him when Grace returned to the bedroom. She brushed her hair for several minutes until it shone, then rubbed lotion into her hands and forearms. He watched her every move, fascinated by her bedtime ritual. Even though he’d promised not to lay a finger on her, he was looking forward to spending the night with her.
“No bunny pj’s tonight?” he asked as she approached her side of the bed.
“They’re in the wash. How about you? Are you decent?”
“Decent enough.” He flashed her a raunchy grin. “Usually I sleep in the nude.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”
In one fluid motion she slid between the sheets, careful to keep a proper distance between them, switched off her lamp, and pulled the covers up to her chin. “Good night, then.”
He eyed the expanse of bed between them. “No good-night kiss?”
She pressed her soft lips together. “Good night, Jack.”
Grinning, he turned off his own light and stretched out his length against the sheets. Slowly the muscles in his body relaxed. The seductive vitality of her body reached out to him, and instant, trigger-happy excitement stirred in him. Forget it, pal. He wasn’t going to get any sex out of Grace tonight, and strangely he didn’t mind. In a completely different way, it was pleasurable to lie beside her in the dark and hear the gentle ticking of her breathing. She was incredibly sexy, but she was also comforting and peaceful to be with in a way he’d never felt with any other woman, not even Becky. A soothing sensation stole over him, and within minutes sleep descended on him.
…
Gauzy moonlight drifted through a crack in the curtains, bathing the bedroom in a silvery glow. From the street below came the muffled drone of late-night traffic. Grace rested her cheek against her folded hands and drank in the sight of the man sleeping on the pillow beside her. Sleep softened his features, his eyelashes fanning dark against his skin, the waxy moonlight picking out the stubble on his jaw. She fought the yearning to trace her finger along the line of his mouth, her heart contracting with the effort.
The truth she’d been holding back sank deep into her. She was in love with Jack. That was why she wanted to lie here forever, lingering over his slumbering face.
She’d fallen in love with him three years ago when they’d eaten laksa together, but now she loved him deeper, in a whole new painful way. She loved him, even though there was little possibility he would ever return her feelings. He might lust after her at the moment, but he didn’t love her. Still, lust was not to be sneezed at. Especially when she was lying next to him, and she only had to lean across a few
inches to kiss him on the mouth. God, how she wanted that mouth against hers.
Moonlight speckled his shoulders and picked out the hairs on his forearms resting on top of the sheet. He breathed in, his chest expanding, causing her to bite on her knuckle to stop herself from stroking her fingers across his delicious torso. She would never tell him how she really felt about him, but surely she could steal a few moments of happiness with him?
Stop it. She turned over, thumped her head into the pillow, and focused determinedly on the clock. Go to sleep. Forget about Jack. Forget about his warm weight so tantalizingly close, his virile scent wrapping around her body. Forget everything and go to sleep.
Resolute, she shut her eyes. She only had to make it through the night. It couldn’t be that hard.
…
Balmy warmth flooded through Jack. Slumber clogged his brain. He was dreaming of floating in a steam cloud. And he wasn’t alone in his dream. A woman lay in his arms, spooned up against his body, the curve of her butt snug against his groin, her back pressed up along the length of his chest. His face was buried in her hair, and she smelled fantastic. His whole dream was fantastic. He shifted, felt something firm and smooth and hot in his palm. A breast. He was holding a rounded breast, and the nipple was taut and alive beneath his thumb.
This was no dream.
Consciousness slammed into him. He woke with a start to a darkened room, Grace in his arms, his hand cupped around her breast under her T-shirt, and a throbbing erection in his pants. In the stillness of the night, he heard tiny puffs coming out of her. Lifting his head an inch, he saw her eyelids were shut, but her little gasps and her tingling nipple told him she wasn’t exactly dead to the world. Was she feigning sleep while she ground her delightful bottom against his crotch? He squeezed her nipple gently, and a stronger wheeze escaped from her.
It was all the encouragement he needed. Rolling her onto her back, he brushed the hair from her face before dipping down to taste her lips. He started out slow, flicking his lips against hers, stroking his tongue against her teeth, before he went in a little deeper, reaping the moisture of her mouth. She uttered a tiny groan and arched up her neck to give him better access. Taking full advantage, he crushed her lips harder, then gorged his way across her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin. All the while he worked on her breast, circling her hot flesh with his fingertips, rotating his thumb across her nipple.