by Bailey, Orla
I can’t get my head around what just happened. I want Jack so badly yet he simply uses me as a means to an end. It isn’t even to stop unwanted interest. He wants that too. He loves it. It’s to show me he can have me any time he wants and drop me just as quickly for one of his lined-up replacements.
Suddenly Brent Tapper doesn’t seem the biggest problem in my life. My own stupidly hopeless aspirations are. Will I never learn?
I watch him face the room, ready for more networking. Sometimes you know you’re just not good enough.
Heart-sore, I want to end this torment. To go back home.
My home.
Chapter Seventeen
The look Jack throws me implies he can’t believe I just influenced him to such extremes of behaviour. “Perfect timing.” At first I think he’s being cynical but then I see he’s spotted someone across the room. “The Minister of State for Business and Energy. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
What I’ve just been introduced to had plenty of energy but was no business that ought to be conducted in public, that’s for sure. Tingles of awareness continue to chase themselves up and down my spine. “Haven’t we done enough yet?”
He conquers his ragged breathing and draws his steely armour of authority about him. Despite the fact I’m still reeling, he’s already striding beyond it while the spectre of the disturbing contact of his body, haunts mine.
“Once more unto the breach, kitten.” He tugs me alongside him in the press of hundreds of hot bodies, stopping periodically to acknowledge acquaintances as we aim towards our target.
“I’m sure that scene wasn’t in Henry V,” I say petulantly, replaying our own scene up against the wall.
Although this place does soon begin to feel more like a war zone. Women can’t keep their missiles off him and I grow more territorial with each attempt they make to stake their claim. How dare they cross my border? He’s mine, even if it is only for one night. As we move and I witness those sultry eyes watching us then turn to make whispered, and no doubt, barbed comments about me, I feel a growing concern at everything they’ve just witnessed.
What he did to me up against the wall clearly hasn’t gone unnoticed and bad news spreads like forest fire, quicker than I can outrun it. People stare, murmur and scowl. Especially Jack’s women. And I know who is getting the blame for it. What can you expect? Have you seen the way she’s dressed? If she’s going to wave it in his face, what red-blooded male is going to decline?
“Everyone’s staring.”
“Yes. I’m drawing up an assassin’s list of all the men who can’t keep their eyes off you.” His hand tightens over mine and his back stiffens.
Men? But frankly I’m not surprised. I’m living up to my scarlet reputation. I turn up looking like a high class escort then allow Jack to practically ravish me up against a wall.
“It will be a much shorter list than the number of women who can’t keep their hands off you,” I snipe back.
While Jack glowers, my breath stalls and my chest tightens with a familiar warning sign. I struggle to maintain an appearance of calm; inhale and exhale to the count and hide the whole impending disaster from Jack. The last thing I need right now is another of his specialist distractions. That thought alone is enough to tip me over the edge towards a full scale panic attack. People continue to stare. And whisper.
Jack frowns, concern etched on his face. “Tabitha?”
I shake my head.
“Damn.” He takes my face in his hands. “Breathe. Slowly. It’s fine. You’re going to be fine. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I try to control it. I really do. It’s just that my lungs never co-operate when I need them most. They refuse to expand. I’m slowly suffocating. My hands flail trying to grab onto something, anything.
Jack’s hand lands smartly on my rear end. He smacks me. Bloody hell fire. In public. Right in the middle of the ball. He just goes and smacks me. I can’t believe he did that. I thought he didn’t hit women. I’m so shocked I gasp and inhale a whole lungful of hot oxygen over my raw, dry throat. He truly doesn’t give a damn about anything. I try to turn my head to see who is watching us.
And that would be just about everybody. My torrid behind smarts.
“Keep your eyes on me. Just me.” He won’t let me turn around to look. “Keep breathing or I’ll put you over my shoulder and heft you out of here, right now.” He means it.
My eyes are on stalks. “Don’t,” I gasp. “I’m fine.” I’m not but I’m flaming well going to be if it avoids being party to another of Jack Keogh’s caveman acts. There are cameras going off everywhere. I drive through my routine. In. In. In. Hold. Hold. Out. Jack breathes through it with me, counting in mime. I slowly calm as I realise I’m not going to die.
Attending this ball was a huge mistake. As much as Jack wants to teach me to be strong, it only reinforces how weak I am. He’s pushing me beyond my capabilities.
Jack looks through the press of bodies. He beckons one of the women over and I see her smile in triumph at getting the call. She glides across with a whole heap of what-kept-you? in her eyes. She doesn’t even see me and I’m standing right beside him. Invisible.
Despite the heavy make-up and exaggerated up-do, I recognise her immediately as that blonde woman Jack singled out when the Advance team left his boardroom. I realise, as only a woman can, there’s more between the two of them than just business acquaintances.
“Amanda,” he says.
“Darling.” She leans in to give him a kiss in greeting.
“I can’t leave Tabitha. Fetch her some water will you?”
Her face freezes. She snakes her eyes to mine making me feel instantly like something she’s only just discovered attached to the sole of her Jimmy Choo’s.
“Water?” She’s gulping like a fish out of it as she realises she’s been asked over for nothing better than to run an errand for me.
“It’s okay, Jack.” I try to let us both off the hook.
“No it’s not,” he snaps. I’m not sure if it’s at me or her. He turns back to the goldfish. “If it’s too much trouble?” He leaves the idea hanging. The Boss crystallises before my eyes and he isn’t sugar-coated.
She pulls herself together. “Trouble? Of course it’s no trouble. Anything for you, Jack, darling.” She positively purrs as she curls her aubergine manicured fingers over Jack’s sleeve. His warm smile returns until she turns and struts off.
Of course, she’ll fetch water for him. I sigh. Loudly. When I see him reacting I throw Jack a glare, just in case he’s even thinking of smacking me again. His winter nut store won’t be safe if he does. I shift my backside just to be certain and get given the Look instead.
“I’m perfectly fine. You didn’t have to get one of your women to fetch water.” I make him sound like some tribal chieftain.
“I think you’re forgetting something,” he points out.
“What?” I wait for him to tell me I need him. He can’t leave me.
“At the weekend I give the orders.”
Amanda returns holding a glass of water in front of her like it’s weeping gelignite which could detonate any second. “It seems I’m not the only one you’ve got trained to that rule.”
He grins. “I think you need a stiff…” He pauses as Amanda arrives. I can’t believe he’s tossing my own joke back at me. He must know I’m so desperate for sex it’s no laughing matter. “Thank you, Amanda. I’m so grateful.” As he speaks to Amanda, he takes the water from her hand and kisses her on the cheek for her trouble. She glows.
Jack turns and tips the glass to my lips. “… drink.” He grins even wider.
When he gives me the punch-line to our joke, I click my tongue against my teeth. Amanda looks like she’s been handed a diamond instead of a little appreciation. I see her hand graze her cheek where his lips touched. “Anything for you, Jack, darling. You know that.”
Now that’s a free sample if ever I heard one. She’s so obvious it can hardly
be misinterpreted. I press my lips together so I don’t snort in derision but mimic her words and her simpering action hidden from sight by the cover of Jack’s broad shoulders between us. He shakes his head at me but his lips are twisted into a reluctantly amused smile.
Amanda who’s excluded from the game speaks over Jack’s shoulder. “Call me, darling,” she coos brazenly. “We’ll do lunch.”
“Amanda.” He dismisses her without turning. I can feel her seethe from here.
“You, madam,” he tells me. “Are in so much trouble.”
My stomach lurches but I realise there’s little he can do to me in public he hasn’t already done. “Always, around you.”
“If only you knew.” He seems reflective. Definitely cryptic. “Ready? People to meet.”
It’s all I can do not to groan. He’s determined to make my suffering interminable. I fix on a false smile thinking that will help me fit in around here just fine. We weave through the crowds and I watch Jack work the room from my position at his side. I hang off his arm like I might get swept away if I let go but he lets me crease his elegant tuxedo without a word of complaint. Brent Tapper would have thrown me to the wolves miles back.
Jack continues to establish me in favourable terms wherever we go until, for me, the huge numbers morph into one simmering mass. Jack, however, remembers everyone’s names and they certainly know his. He addresses men by their surnames and women by their first, asking after friends and family. He has a memory like a personal organizer app. He accepts the men’s handshakes and the women’s embraces with warmth.
I’m beginning to think he seeks out every predatory female on purpose, simply to test me but I maintain a professional façade. Albeit a rapidly crumbling one. I’m beginning to hate this dress no matter what it promises. The looks of disgust I get from some of the women are almost as bad as the looks of lust, from the men.
We encounter Anderson and a group from Advance Advertising, a number of whom I met in Jack’s boardroom.
“Mr Keogh.” Anderson holds out his hand to Jack.
“Anderson.” Jack shakes it.
“Quite a turnout.”
“They will insist on their annual spectacle.”
“And get it. More and more inexplicable people entering the field every year it would appear.”
I know Anderson’s words are a shot across the bows at me. My heart races at a hundred miles an hour but I speak up. “No-one should be afraid of a little healthy competition, Mr Anderson. It keeps us all fresh.” It’s absolutely the wrong thing to say and I know it as soon as all eyes fix on the interloper in their midst. It’s a flashback to Jack’s boardroom.
“Miss Caid.” Anderson’s reluctant tone is cool. Professional. Deadly.
Jack comes to my rescue. “Well said, Tabitha. More business should be good for yours, Anderson.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Anderson positively glares at me.
I draw myself to my full height, refusing to wither.
“Interesting frock to wear to the ball. What a coup.” Amanda looks like she’s pulled herself together. She’s the type who eats female competition for breakfast. “A statement piece. Ignore the brief and show everyone exactly who you really are.”
Oh she’s clever. Her words can’t be faulted. They appear to praise but it’s clear to me she’s pointing out I don’t fit in and telling me I look like a tramp at the same time. Well it takes one to know one. I take an instant dislike to her.
“Jack chose it himself, didn’t you, darling?” I say. We both know I’m mocking her earlier address.
“He always did understand how to compliment a woman’s true talents.”
My cheeks flame as she trills off a pretty little laugh at my expense and turns away from me like she’s already lost interest. She leans in and assaults Jack with her heavy perfume, both purple nail-polished hands lifting to his shoulders.
“Jack, darling. Not pulling any more all-nighters at the club, I hope? At least, not without me to get you safely home to bed.”
She remains close to him for a little too long. It feels uncomfortable watching them together which is, no doubt, her intention. But everyone else is smiling. Is she trying to let me know she’s dated Jack? Been intimate with him? I’m horrified.
Jack nips any attempt I might be formulating to commence another ridiculing mimic job in the bud, with a sharp glance. It makes me even more certain these two have history and he’s defending her. I reclaim Jack’s arm while she shows me she doesn’t care. I’m simply no competition for her superior talents.
Dejected, I believe she might be right. It makes me like her even less. But he was mine before he was ever hers, I pacify myself grudgingly. Yet think again.
He was never mine at all.
Jack introduces us all formally. For once I wish he wouldn’t be the consummate host. “Tabitha, this is Amanda Devereaux. Amanda, you’ve already met Tabitha Caid.”
Although it pains me to do so I hold out my hand to her. Stick to being professionally indifferent. Confound all their expectations. She glances down and trills off a laugh as if I’m the most pathetic little thing she’s ever seen. Then waits a beat too long before she deigns to barely touch my fingertips with her aubergine claws.
“Now we’re good friends,” she says insincerely, dropping my hand instantly. I notice her wipe her fingertips on the side of her tightly fitted black gown and ball her hand into a fist by her side.
Instinctively I know I’d better watch out for this one.
Jack chats calmly with them all. It’s hard to believe he threw them out of his building just a few days ago. It seems business should never become personal but glancing at the animated delight on Amanda’s perfect features as she engages with Jack, I doubt it’s a rule that’s always observed.
I glance at a younger colleague of theirs who wasn’t in the boardroom last time and is staring straight at me. He looks only a few years older than I am. His eyes crawl all over my red dress. And my cleavage. I’m surprised Jack hasn’t noticed but then he can hardly take his eyes off Amanda, while my dress – a major piece of false advertising – continues to beguile the unwary.
The second the young guy catches me toss him a withering look he grins at me. I relent and smile back but really only to give Jack a taste of what he’s giving me. If he even notices, as preoccupied with the delectable Amanda as he appears to be.
Jack ends the conversation abruptly and steers me away. I’m relieved.
“Just how well do you know Amanda Devereaux?” I question him. I really want to know if he’s screwed her but I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud.
“How well can a man know any woman?” Another cryptic reply. He’s deliberately avoiding answering my question so I drop it. I have no right to know and, suspect, the answer might hurt too much anyway. She’s had what I haven’t. I’m certain of it.
“You appeared to be getting a little over familiar yourself back there,” Jack accuses.
I’m astonished. “I smiled at the one person who bothered to smile at me.” Amanda was all over Jack, however, and I’m supposed to accept that. He’s so annoying. I don’t deny it though. I like to think he might be a little bit jealous too. “Double standards, Jack? Allow me.” I stretch up and pretend to smooth Amanda’s non-existent lipstick stains from his cheek with my thumb.
He wheels me round to face him. “When I’m with a woman, she’s with me. Only me.”
He’s being completely unreasonable and I should be annoyed but my heart soars. He is jealous. “Sorry,” I whisper, smirking.
He takes my mouth in a brief, hard kiss. “Watch your step, if you want me to keep my promise,” he warns me.
He withholds sex as punishment? I turn liquid, right to my core. I want to jump him right here and live majestically up to my scarlet reputation.
His stern glare fixes me for a minute but I give him my sweetest apologetic expression willing him to forgive my inadvertent transgression. I don’t
even care that he’s completely in the wrong as I watch him yield before my eyes.
“No joke, I really do need a stiff drink,” he says, grabbing my wrist and back to towing again.
“Good idea. Wash your mouth out.” I sense him smile as he puts his hand on my hip and hauls me closer to his side.
Jack fetches us both another glass of Champagne. “Don’t drink too much.”
“I know my limits.”
“Do you? Would you really know when you’re getting out of your depth?”
What does he mean by that? “I think so,” I claim rashly. I take another tiny sip, holding his gaze with mine, to prove my self-control. He looks thoughtful.
He removes the glass from my hand and replaces it on the bar. “I want you sober tonight. I want you to remember everything I do to you.”
God, I just want to haul him out of here. I hate the Commerce Ball even more for getting in my way. I suspect we’ll be here for hours yet as I can’t imagine Jack shirking his duty, even for sex. “I need the bathroom.”
Jack scowls down at me.
“What? It’s not allowed?” I shrug. “It had to happen sometime. Nature will find a way.”
He looks over all the talking heads until he spots the most efficient escape route and escorts me to the Ladies’ facilities where he stands near enough to be decently acceptable. It makes me smile.
“I’m waiting right here for you.”
“I won’t be long.” I’m not sure if he’s guarding me for my sake or his but either works for me.
A middle-aged couple call to him and saunter across to speak. I slip away at the distraction and find it’s a relief to be inside, away from the noise, for a moment. Everything out there is so intense; so frantically friendly. I pause to catch my breath.
Washing my hands at the sink, something catches my eye. Amanda is standing behind me glaring at my reflection in the mirror. It’s a bit of a shock to find her here and so close. She radiates hostility. Did she manage to slip past Jack without him seeing? I wouldn’t put anything past her. This is far too much of a co-incidence. She squints her eyes at me as her lips compress and I try not to be the first to look away. I’m sure she knows her reflection isn’t any less intimidating than the real thing. An eerie silence encompasses us.