“But why—?”
He thought she’d be more pleased. It disturbed him that she looked as if she was in shock. “I want to come down to the office with you. Kick off the Valentine’s Day campaign.”
That was only partially true. It had come out of nowhere this morning, hitting him with the impact of a detonating six-megaton bomb. Christopher wanted to be part of all the other facets of her life. He savored the rush this new feeling created. Like Christmas Day when his mother had still been part of his life. He couldn’t remember details, only a feeling. If he concentrated very hard, he could remember an aura of happiness surrounding him. He’d felt contented then.
Just the way he felt now.
She was the woman for him. He could feel it. But years of caution couldn’t be readily ignored or dismissed. It wasn’t in his nature. He had to spend a little more time with Theresa before he said anything to her about the way he felt. Although, if she was as intuitive as he thought, words weren’t going to be necessary.
And it wouldn’t hurt to lay a little groundwork for himself while he was at it, either. Just because things came easily to him, Christopher wasn’t so naive or so pompous as to believe that the lady would just fall into his arms. Not even after a night of incredible lovemaking. There had been other men in her life, even if casually. There probably still were now. He wanted to create a situation in which Theresa Cochran would do some voluntary house cleaning on her own.
“The office?” she repeated dumbly, still staring at him. A numbness washed over her before panic set in. Her mind began to scramble, searching for alternatives. “But I thought you had to be getting back.”
The noise behind her told her Cecilia was still in the room, listening. She glanced at the woman over her shoulder, silently asking for help. The look in Cecilia’s eyes told her that there wasn’t going to be any coming from that quarter. Cecilia was amused by this turn of events. But then, Cecilia would have matched her up with the mailman if the man had stayed around longer than just to deliver the mail.
Feeling like the activities coordinator on the Titanic , TJ. turned around to look at Christopher again. He had to be kidding.
“I do have to get back.”
T.J. almost breathed a sigh of relief, but it would have been wasted in light of what Christopher said next.
“But I called Abrams,” he said, naming a vice president she’d dealt with herself when she’d called the main office, “while you were showering. Told him I was going to be detained for a few days overseeing the new advertising campaign.”
How many days in “a few”? TJ. wondered, fragments of thoughts floating through her mind like so much driftwood as panic grew.
“I think I’ll be leaving now,” Cecilia announced. She draped her apron over the back of a chair. “Looks like a good day for playing to me.” She winked at T.J.
T.J. glared at the retreating back as Cecilia went to find Megan.
She was usually so creative when she was staring at a blank piece of paper or a pristine computer screen. Why was her mind turning to mush now, damn it, when she needed it most?
The excuse that rose to her lips was a lame one at best. “Well, we usually work best without someone looking over our shoulder.”
She was acting almost shy, he thought, bemused. Why? Maybe he was just being overly sensitive. Small wonder—he’d never gone out on a limb this way before.
With the appetite of someone who was starving, he began to make short work of his French toast. “I won’t get in the way,” he promised.
If you only knew.
Okay, he was staying. She had to work with that. Gathering her wits together, T.J. began to mount a defensive. There were things that had to be done if they were going to get away with this. Placing her hands on the table, she began to push herself away.
“All right, let me make some calls of my own about this.”
He caught her wrist before she could stand up. “But it’s Sunday.” Even he didn’t work on Sunday. Usually.
Very carefully, she reclaimed her wrist. “Your vice president isn’t the only one on call Sundays.” She tried to make her voice sound casual. It wasn’t easy with her heart and stomach both lodged in her throat. “Here.” She pushed her untouched plate toward him. His was nearly empty. “Have mine. I don’t really eat much in the morning.”
Which was a lie. She always woke up hungry and enjoyed having a huge breakfast. But this morning, she wouldn’t have been able to sneak a bite past her lips. Not when her insides were lurching like this.
Leaving Christopher to eat, T.J. went straight to the den. Cecilia and Megan were preparing to go out. T.J. gave her daughter a quick hug and a kiss before she left. As the front door closed, T.J. breathed a quick sigh of relief. One less worry, at least for the time being.
Two million to go. Shaking her head, she locked herself in the small room. She didn’t want to be overheard.
Her hand was shaking as she tapped out the familiar numbers on the keypad. She wished she could just sit back and enjoy this instead of trying to reconnoiter and head off this latest turn of events.
Why did everything involving Theresa always have to be so complicated?
Theresa’s answering machine came on after four rings. Impatiently, TJ. listened to the low, sultry voice on the other end apologize for being unable to reach the telephone. “Leave a message and I will get back to you.”
Was it just her, or did that almost sound like an obscene promise?
“C‘mon, c’mon. Pick up. Pick up, Theresa, I know you’re there.” Her teeth were clenched as she ordered, “Pick up the damn telephone.”
Just as she was about to give up and leave a message, T.J. heard the receiver on the other end being lifted from the cradle.
“I knew there was something wrong,” Theresa told her, not even bothering to say hello. “We lost the account, didn’t we? He saw right through you and knew you weren’t me. Oh, God, T.J. if you weren’t such a mouse—”
She didn’t have much time. Christopher was going to come looking for her soon. T.J. cut through the rest of Theresa’s lecture, one she knew by heart. Theresa was always after her to change, to kick up her heels and follow her example.
Well, she had, and now look at the trouble they were all in.
“Theresa, you can’t come into the office tomorrow.”
The request took her completely by surprise. “Why?”
Feeling as if all the air had suddenly been drained out of her, T.J. sighed as she sagged against the chair. “Because Christopher is. He wants to look around, see where I—where you work.”
“Christopher?”
TJ. drummed her fingers on the desk impatiently. Didn’t Theresa ever do her homework? She was sharper than this. T.J. knew she was.
“MacAffee.” TJ.’s clenched jaw was beginning to ache. “He’s decided to stay over a few days and see how we operate.”
“Why? I thought you said he was satisfied with your performance.”
Theresa didn’t sound nearly as distressed as TJ. thought she’d be. Definitely not as distressed as she was. Probably because her cousin figured she could handle this. Well she didn’t think she could. Not this time. It was like trying to juggle with torches that had been set on fire. Sooner or later, she was going to get burned.
“He is.” T.J. dragged her hand through her hair. “Maybe too much.” A germ of an idea took seed. It was their only chance. “Listen, I don’t have time to give you all the details now—” Not that I ever would. “But don’t be there tomorrow. No, wait, you do have to be there tomorrow,” she realized. “You have to tell everyone to pretend that I’m you. At least the head staff.” TJ. began scribbling notes to herself on the pad. There was so much to remember. “Oh God, Theresa, this is turning out to be such a mess.”
Theresa sounded completely unruffled. “We’ll get through this. I’ve got a lot of faith in you.”
Easy for you to say. You don’t have to face him. “I really don’t like lying
to the man like this.”
The laugh was light, amused and perhaps just the slightest bit patronizing. “Once you start, T.J., it’s easy.”
“If you say so. Oh, by the way.” About to hang up, she remembered what would have been the most important part—if last night hadn’t happened. “We’ve got to get started on a Valentine’s Day campaign for MacAffee Toys.”
“This Valentine’s Day?”
Even in the midst of the storm, a flicker of satisfaction went through her. “Yes.”
There was a genuine note of admiration. “Boy, you do work fast.”
More than you know, cousin, more than you’ll ever know. T.J. rose from the desk. She had to get back. “All right, I have to go now. I left Christopher in the kitchen and he might start to wonder what happened to me.”
“The kitchen?” Theresa echoed. “What’s MacAffee doing in your house?”
“A long, long story. It starts out with a virus.”
“Computer?”
“Human. Bye.”
T.J. hung up, then spared a satisfied look at the telephone. She’d deliberately left Theresa hanging and she had to admit it felt good just once to turn the tables on her cousin.
Maybe she had wanted this more than she’d admitted to herself, TJ. thought, unlocking the door. Otherwise, why would it feel so good?
She had no time to dwell on that. She had to come up with a plan to fall back on.
And she didn’t have an idea in her head.
Nothing had occurred to her by the time she walked into the kitchen. She was just going to have to play this by ear and pray things worked out.
Man, but he was gorgeous, she thought as she approached Christopher. If Theresa had known what he looked like, she would have found a way to get to the airport, even if it meant having her hospital bed transported with her.
Christopher threaded an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “Missed you.”
She tasted honey on his lips when he kissed her. Or was that just him? She could really get used to this, she mused. Too bad she was never going to get the chance.
He could smell the shampoo she’d used. Something herbal. Who would have thought herbs could be sensual? “How long does Cecilia usually take when she brings Megan to the park?”
Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they wound themselves around his neck. “Oh, I don’t know. A couple of hours. Maybe more.”
It was just what he wanted to hear. “Good, that gives us some time.”
Anticipation began to nudge forward. She squelched it. He probably wasn’t talking about what she was hoping he was talking about. “Time?”
“Well, I’m going to check into a hotel this afternoon.” He couldn’t remain here. It wasn’t proper. Besides, it would give them somewhere private to go without having to worry about the housekeeper. “I imagine the conventions are over by this afternoon.” He saw the surprise in her eyes. “I don’t want to compromise your reputation.”
Now there was a first, she thought. Someone actually worried about Theresa’s reputation. It certainly didn’t bother Theresa. Gossip just rolled off her back.
But he really wasn’t talking about Theresa’s reputation, T.J. thought. He was talking about hers. Never mind that he thought it was one and the same. She took it for what it was: a chivalrous act.
“Very noble of you.”
“But before I leave...” He pressed a kiss to her throat and felt her sigh. “I thought that perhaps we could review some familiar ground.”
TJ. melted against him, done in by the look in his eyes. She’d never seen anything so tender, so loving.
She damned Theresa and blessed her in the same breath as he kissed her again. If not for Theresa, she wouldn’t have been able to sample heaven. And if not for Theresa, she wouldn’t have to relinquish it again.
His mouth still sealed to hers, Christopher rose with her in his arms. He carried T.J. to her bedroom where they did indeed cover familiar ground. And make it new all over again.
PERPETUALLY TENSE, T.J. felt like a soldier picking his way through a mine field. The only time she felt at ease was when the door was shut and there was just the two of them in a room. At least then, she only had to worry about tripping herself up and not about anyone else accidentally addressing her as T.J. or making some sort of other slip.
In the few days that she’d been showing Christopher around the office, she had been a nervous wreck: Dressed in the suits Theresa had covertly sent over via her maid, T.J. did her best to play the role of the flamboyant company president.
She’d taken to the part so well that after a while, people were hard-pressed to tell her apart from the original. T.J. bad overheard Heidi tell one of the secretaries in the pool that she looked more like Theresa than Theresa did.
She just acted a little differently, Heidi had gone on to say. More savvy, and, it turned out, more daring when it came to business.
By the end of the third day, T.J. finally began to relax a little. Giving orders actually came easily to her. She was on familiar ground. She’d been on both sides of the drawing board.
It was going to turn out all right, T.J. assured herself. At least, as far as business was concerned. The rest of the problem was another matter entirely. But she couldn’t think about that now, not in the middle of her charade. There was just too much to do, too many torches to keep in the air at the same time. So far, she hadn’t gotten burned.
And when Christopher was around her, in the privacy of his suite, she couldn’t think at all. She didn’t want to. All she wanted to do was feel. To store up every delicious sensation, every wondrous moment for a lifetime. Because she knew it was going to end all too soon.
The nights they spent together were as exquisite as a flawlessly cut diamond placed in a perfect setting. It wasn’t just the lovemaking, which only seemed to grow more magnificent with practice. It was more.
It was the little things. Like standing on his balcony and looking up at the stars, so high above the city, so close to them that she thought she could just reach up and touch one. Like sipping champagne from the same glass, with their eyes on one another. Or like holding one another in the afterglow of lovemaking and feeling his heart beat beneath her cheek.
All little things. All precious.
She was hopelessly in love with the man and there was nothing she could do about it. Only enjoy the tiny moment in time she’d been granted.
T.J. managed to get away a few times and touched base with Megan. Gratefully, the little girl was none the worse for the separation. Because she did travel, her daughter was accustomed to not seeing her on a daily basis. T.J. knew she had to pack a lifetime into the short stay. But as the days whirled by, she was getting the very clear impression that it wasn’t going to be over once he boarded the plane.
Heaven knew she didn’t want it to be. But how could it continue? If he came back, he was going to have to be told the truth. And then what? What man could laugh off being deceived?
He would never trust her again.
The thought brought a pang to her heart, even as she lay curled beside him in the hotel suite bed.
Drawing her even closer to him, Christopher pressed a kiss to her forehead. These last few days had been incredible. He felt alive for perhaps the first time in his life. He was grateful to her for that, for opening his eyes to this brave new world.
She was a dynamo in the office. And even more so in bed. He was damn lucky to have found her.
The sigh that escaped her lips lingered over his chest. “A penny for your thoughts?”
There was no way she was going to volunteer that. T.J. forced herself to smile. “Only a penny?” she teased. “Is that how you managed to make your fortune? Underpaying people?”
He laughed. “The fortune, as you call it, was made long before I came into the picture. I just pulled the company a little further into the twentieth century, that’s all.”
She brushed aside the one wayward lock of hair t
hat fell into his eyes, trying not to think about how much she was going to miss him. “I think you’re going to have to push a little harder. We’re approaching the twenty-first, you know.”
“No hurry.” It was hard deciding which flavor he enjoyed most. The one at her neck, the one behind her elbow. The one he’d discovered behind her knee. He enjoyed sampling and trying to make a choice. “I figure we’ll make that transition in about another fifty years. There’ll be another MacAffee at the helm by then and it won’t be my concern. What I’m concerned with,” he told her as he forged a slow, sensuous hot trail along her body, “is the here and now.” He raised his head, his eyes on hers. “And you.”
He was looking at her as if she was something precious, and she felt like such a fraud. Her body, so fresh from lovemaking, was heating again. It always would. To his touch.
“You always get so caught up in your work?”
“Never.” The affirmation skimmed along her taut belly, making it tighten. “I didn’t know what I was missing.” The kisses were becoming more ardent, making it harder for her to form a coherent thought.
No, not harder. Impossible.
Christopher raised himself on his elbows, looking down into her face. He didn’t like what he was about to say. “I’m going to have to leave tomorrow.”
She knew that. Had known that. It was what she’d planned on.
The sinking sensation she felt was almost unbearable. “Tomorrow?”
He liked the echo of loneliness he heard in her voice. It matched his own.
“I have to. Everyone at the company thinks I must have lost my mind.” His mouth curved. “I’ve never taken time off before.”
She held him then, as if having her arms around him formed a magic circle where no harm could come to either of them. And the truth stood just outside. “Never?”
He shook his head, his body curving into hers. Savoring it. “Not more than a day or two. I love my work. It reaffirms me. Maybe it even defines me. Or did,” he amended with a fond smile as he gazed at her. “I hadn’t realized just how nice it was to ‘kick back.’ Those were the words you used, weren’t they?”
My Phony Valentine Page 10