“I just wondered if you wanted the payroll files tonight. Michele has already gone home and she had most of them locked up in her office.”
“Go home, Jim,” Jake told him. “Mrs. Anderson doesn’t need those files tonight. We’re headed out the door.”
Claire wheeled around to pin him with a scathing look. How dare he make that decision for her? That damn eyebrow of his rose, daring her to contradict him. With a lift of her chin, she turned back to her employee to do just that.
“Then you won’t be needing me any more tonight?” Jim asked hopefully. “It’s my wife’s birthday, and I promised to take her to dinner.”
Claire’s pique faded. She felt like a heel that had stepped in something in the barn. “Why didn’t you tell me this was a special occasion? You should’ve gone home hours ago.”
“It was your first day, Mrs. Anderson. As second in command I needed—and wanted—to help smooth your way.”
Claire smiled at him. After today she understood why Jim had been Alan Townsend’s most trusted employee. He would’ve made an excellent director of accounting. “You’ve been a tremendous help, Jim. Thank you. We’ll continue tomorrow. Now go home and be with your family. I never asked. Do you have children?”
The thin, slightly balding man beamed. “Three girls. Ten, seven and four.”
“I’m sure they’re waiting for you. See you in the morning.” She felt Jake’s hand slip around hers and squeeze.
“I’ll be here at seven, as usual.”
“I’ll be here early, too. See you then.”
As Jim left, Jake rose and snaked an arm around her waist. “You handled that well.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped back. “I didn’t handle it at all. You did.”
He looked surprised. “What did I do?”
“You answered questions my employee addressed to me. Is this or isn’t it my department?”
“Of course it is.”
“Then please let me run it. I know you’re their boss and mine, but I’m not going to have much respect if you keep talking for me.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what I was doing. Cut me some slack, okay?”
Claire released a hot breath and turned to grab her purse. “I’ll cut you some slack, all right, the next time you paw me in front of my employees.”
He took her arm in a viselike grip and pulled her around to face him. “In the first place, I didn’t know he was still here. Neither did you. In the second, I’m not ashamed of wanting my wife. Hell, Gordon had to do a little pawing himself to get three kids.”
“And?” she asked impatiently.
“And what?”
“Everything with you comes in threes. Surely, you have a third place.”
He drew her inexorably against him with a lecherous smile. “You’re the third place. You were doing more than a little pawing of your own, Mrs. Anderson.”
Claire’s chin rose, but she wouldn’t admit he was right. He touched her, and she melted. Not a good sign, not if her plan to hold herself aloof from him was to succeed. She was going to have to try a heck of a lot harder. For Pete’s sake, she’d have let Jake take her right there on her desk. What an eyeful that would’ve been for Jim.
She couldn’t cover a smile as she imagined the look on her employee’s bespectacled face.
“Let’s go home,” Jake said. “Where we can do our pawing in private.”
Three nights later, Jake pushed open the door to the office in the penthouse to find Claire on the phone. She faced away from the door, toward the city lights spread out below. He paused in the doorway and glanced at his watch. Almost ten. Who could she be talking to this late?
“Didn’t you get the message I left two days ago?... I know. I was out of town.... Nothing. Just the usual.... No.... No.... Thanksgiving? Dem, I don’t know... Yes, I know I haven’t been home since JJ.’s birthday...”
Jake relaxed. She was talking to her family.
“Okay.... Right... No, Hank, I’m not dating anyone right now, I—”
She stopped abruptly as she swiveled and met Jake’s suddenly narrowed eyes head-on. “What did you say?... Oh, nothing. Listen, Hank, I have to go. I’ll call you in a couple of days. No, don’t call me.... No, Hank.” She sighed heavily. “Goodbye, Hank. Give my love to Alex and the kids.... I love you, too. Bye.”
She placed the receiver back in the cradle slowly, deliberately.
“Not dating anyone?” Jake repeated in arch tones. “What am I, chopped beef?”
“I’m not dating anyone,” she told him. “I’m married.”
“But you didn’t tell your family that,” he accused from the door. “We’ve been home four days, been married a week, and you still haven’t told them.”
“No,” she said softly. “I haven’t.”
Her words felt like a punch in the gut, like betrayal at the basest level. He approached the desk and leaned across from her on straight arms. “Are you ashamed of me?”
“Of course not. I...I just can’t face their questions right now.” Her gaze slid away. “I still have too many of my own.”
Jake studied her solemn face for a long moment. He wanted to walk around the desk and kiss away the worry making wrinkles in her forehead, but instinct told him to stay put. “Like what?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry I said anything.”
“But you did, so now you have to tell me.” His voice held an edge of menace, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let her hide from him.
Her blue eyes delved into the depths of his own, but he didn’t avoid her scrutiny. He wasn’t going to hide from her, either.
“What happens if I can’t get pregnant?”
The question slammed into him like a car at top speed. He’d never even considered the possibility. What would he do if she couldn’t get pregnant? Right now having a baby was the most important thing in the world to him. More important than any investment he’d ever made. Since he’d decided on Claire as the mother, he’d made getting her pregnant his number-one priority, spending more time away from the office than he had since starting the company. But what if she couldn’t get pregnant? What if her condition was worse than the doctors suspected?
“Have you heard anything new?” he asked sharply. “Have you talked to your doctor since we returned?”
She shook her head. “No. I just...I don’t know.”
“You’re tired.” Relief flooded through him like spring melt at the bottom of a mountain, letting him know how deep the panic had gone. Stepping around the desk, he drew her out of the chair and into his arms. “We’ve only been trying a few days. Give it time.”
She relaxed against him.
“Do you think I’m going to toss you aside like a used tissue?” he asked.
She lifted a shoulder. “Why wouldn’t you? You want a baby. If I can’t give you one, you’ll have to find someone who can.”
Anger stabbed deep into his gut that she thought so little of him. But what stabbed deeper was that her lack of faith was justified. With any other woman, he’d probably have done just that. Ruthless decisions were his trademark, after all. If an investment didn’t work, he cut his losses quickly, cleanly.
Could he let Claire go? The very thought made him want to find a brick wall and hit it—hard. Reining in the unfamiliar feeling made his voice tight. “And how long were you going to give yourself? Another two days? A week?”
“No, I—”
“Are you sure you’re not the one who wants out?”
She backed up to arm’s length, which was as far as he’d let her go. Her lovely face held concern and confusion as she gazed at his. “I didn’t say that.”
Jake brought her left hand to his lips and kissed her wedding ring. “This means forever, Claire. Remember the vows?”
“But what if I don’t—?”
“You will,” he told her firmly, then turned her toward the door. “But you won’t get pre
gnant arguing. You’re through working, right?”
She pointed back over his shoulder. “The files I brought home are—”
“Let me put it another way. You’re through working. We’re going to go make a baby—or pass out trying.”
Her plan wasn’t working.
Claire stared through the darkness at the still-heaving chest of her husband, trying to stem the tide of emotions boiling through her, fighting the tears that burned her eyes.
The scent of their lovemaking lay heavy in the air. The taste of his kiss still flavored her mouth. Shivers of delight rippled through her, especially at the place where they were still joined. His hot, heavy breath sang like music across her ear.
Why did it have to be this way every time? Why did the man have to possess so much dern tenderness and consideration? Why couldn’t he settle for a quickie just once?
For a week now, she’d been trying hard not to give in to the pleasure, to keep herself aloof. But Jake would have none of it. With ruthless patience, he kissed and stroked and nipped and sucked until she was mindless with passion, desperate to have him, defenseless against the onslaught of emotions that made her fall a little more in love with him each time.
A tear finally escaped, sliding down to wet her hair.
Why couldn’t she feel the way he did about sex—that it was an enjoyable way to make babies? Why did her heart have to get itself all wrapped up in this illusion of caring? Maybe if she’d had as much experience as he had, the pleasure wouldn’t be so intense. If she’d slept with every man she’d dated, she probably wouldn’t be having this problem.
Warm lips nuzzled the hair away from her temple. “You okay?”
Claire shivered as his low, sexy voice melted over her. Okay? Would she ever be okay again? “Sure. Why?”
“I thought I might’ve hurt you. I wasn’t exactly gentle. Damn, I can’t believe I lost control like that.”
Claire pulled back enough to see his black eyes. “You lost control?” The concept was as inconceivable as Santa Claus shaving.
“You couldn’t tell?” he asked in amazement.
She smiled ruefully. “I was a little...preoccupied.”
He chuckled and smoothed a hand over her rump. “Yes, I know. Your screams are still echoing in here.”
She pushed at him playfully. “What about that last bellow you let out? Sounded like the bull elephant I saw at the zoo.”
His white teeth flashed against the dimness. “Well, hell, I hadn’t had you in nearly twenty-four hours. I felt like a bull elephant.”
He bent his head to kiss her, but she kept him away with a stiff arm. “Cool your jets, Jumbo, we do need some sleep tonight.”
“Who said?”
“Me. I have to get to work early.”
He swept her arm away. “Call in sick. The boss will understand.”
“Very funny. How did you ever make your millions with this attitude?”
He cupped her face in both hands. “I never had a wife before, angel. I like it, and I want to enjoy it.”
Claire didn’t resist as his lips took hers. She was too busy battling the tender feelings washing through her.
No. Her plan definitely wasn’t working.
Claire pushed open the door to her old apartment. Immediately the scent of the vanilla potpourri she always kept in a ceramic holder near the door hit her like the welcoming shout at a surprise party.
She’d been so busy with her new job she hadn’t been to the town house since they left for Las Vegas, nearly two weeks now. So busy Jake offered to send his secretary to fetch some of her clothes. So busy she’d accepted.
As Claire walked through the apartment it felt like it belonged to her—but in another lifetime. She saw everything with new eyes. The chest she’d bought at a garage sale from an old woman who could no longer live on her own. The beat-up old bookcase with hand-carved molding that she stripped of five coats of paint to let the beauty of the oak shine through. Her grandmother’s clock from the attic at the Garden that Alex found and gave her the first Christmas after she’d moved to Denver.
The memories almost brought Claire to her knees. Suddenly she was glad Jake had to make an unscheduled trip to Dallas and couldn’t come with her like he’d planned.
Though they weren’t priceless antiques, every single piece of furniture meant something to her. Every picture on the wall had some story behind it, some memory. Every knickknack was a trophy to her independence. She’d spent years decorating this place, and with very few exceptions, had proudly paid for everything herself.
When she’d moved in, the building was brand-new. No one had ever lived in these rooms before. It was entirely hers, and had been for six years. Now she had to give it up. That’s why she was here, to pack up the things she wanted to keep, to sort through the things that wouldn’t fit into her new life as Mrs. Jacob Anderson.
Where did she begin? How did she sort through six years of life in an afternoon? What should she take? What could she bear to give away?
All Claire knew was that she didn’t want to part with a single throw pillow. This apartment had been a symbol of her independence for six years. She didn’t want to give it up.
Claire knew her feelings weren’t rational. She couldn’t live here as long as she was married to Jake, but in her heart letting go of this place meant letting go of her freedom. And that freedom had been too hard to come by.
From the time her parents died when she was eight until she graduated from college, she’d lived under the thumbs of two of the most overbearing, arrogant cowboys on the face of the earth—her brothers. Because she was so much younger than they were, because she was female, they thought they could run her life—and they succeeded for fourteen years. Not until she graduated from college and moved to Denver did she have a measure of independence. But even that hadn’t stopped them. Hank called several times a week if she didn’t call the Garden first and check in. Travis would drop in unexpectedly on his way across the country to some rodeo or other. Sometimes he’d spend the night, other times he just took her out to eat and drilled her on what she was doing with her life. Not a single phone call or visit passed without them saying, “You know you can always come home.”
Now she was married to a man every bit as arrogant and autocratic. The only things missing were the Stetson and jeans. Funny. Here she’d been avoiding dating cowboys because she thought they were all like her brothers. Now she realized that cowboys didn’t have a corner on the obnoxious-male market.
Claire spent the afternoon packing the things she wanted to have around her at the penthouse. Just before leaving to pick Jake up at the airport, she walked through the rooms one last time.
No. She couldn’t give it up. Not yet. She could afford to keep it since Jake wouldn’t let her spend a dime of her own money. As long as she had her own place waiting for her, she’d be okay. She’d be able to breathe.
Jake emerged from the shower, quickly dried off and tied the towel around his waist. He’d missed Claire during the long contract discussions in Dallas and was anxious to show her how much. She could put her things away another day. Or better yet, he’d have Mrs. Sanchez do it. Monday.
Smiling, he entered the bedroom. But Claire wasn’t there. Thinking she’d gone to fetch one of the boxes he’d helped her line up in one of the other bedrooms, he fished around in his coat pocket for the velvet box and went looking for his wife.
When he saw the light on in the study, his smile evaporated. Surely she wasn’t working tonight. He’d left for Dallas at six that morning, so they hadn’t seen each other all day. He’d thought maybe, just this once, she’d be as hot for him as he was for her, as eager for his touch as she’d been in Las Vegas.
He found her at the computer, scrolling through a spreadsheet. He watched her frown as she compared the numbers to a printout on the copy stand.
Damn it all to hell. If he’d known her job would consume every waking minute, he’d never have given it to her. He wasn’t u
sed to playing second fiddle to anyone or anything, especially not with women. He wanted a hundred percent of Claire’s attention a hundred percent of the time. He wanted to jump into bed with her the minute they got home at night and stay until they had to get ready for work the next day. And he wanted her a hundred times during the day. He could barely concentrate on work, knowing she worked just a floor below.
But what grated against every bone in his body was her cool indifference. She acted as if she could take their lovemaking or leave it, and most of the time acted as if she’d rather leave it.
Hell, they were only making love once or twice a day—and that only because he wanted her so badly he’d become an expert at breaking down her defenses.
Ahh, but when her defenses were down...
Jake smiled in grim satisfaction. He made her body sing in harmony with his. That’s when he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
Stepping farther into the room, he tightened the knot in the towel and prepared for yet another assault on her senses.
Claire started when he threw the velvet box down and strode around the desk. Her frown deepened when her eyes dropped to his lack of attire. “I didn’t know you were out of the shower.”
He dropped a kiss on her cheek then leaned back against the desk and rubbed her shoulders. They were tight. “What are you doing in here?”
“Looking over Pawnee tax records. I lost so much time working at the apartment, I need to catch up.”
“Now?” he whispered close to her ear. “I thought we’d do a little catching up of our own.”
She shrugged his hands away. “Please, Jake, I need to work.”
Irritation flashed through him, and he gripped the back of her chair. “This is what you have employees for.”
She stood abruptly and whirled to face him. “You told me when you gave me this job that you wanted me to keep your accountants honest. That’s what I’m doing.”
His eyes narrowed. “I thought the deal was that we were going to have a baby.”
And Cowboy Makes Three (Cowboys To The Rescue 2) Page 9