Reluctantly, Theresa obliged her and backed out of the office. “Maybe we can go out to lunch later?”
“Right,” T.J. muttered to herself as she heard the door close. “We’ll do lunch.”
She stared out the window at the perfect day outside. She wished it would rain.
HE SUPPOSED HE WAS behaving like some lovesick adolescent, but Christopher figured he owed it to himself. He’d entirely skipped that portion of his life the first time around. He selected the next taxi queued up to the curb in front of the terminal and tossed his bag into the back seat.
“11737 Wilshire,” he said in answer to the driver’s raised brow.
The man nodded as he got into the cab.
Christopher looked out the window at the crowded lot, anxious to be there already. To see the look of surprise in Theresa’s eyes when he walked into her office.
Yes, he mused, just like an adolescent. Or so he surmised. There had never been a girl in his teens he’d been smitten with. He’d been too busy being groomed for his position in the firm, constantly being reminded that the company, and its fate, would all rest on his shoulders someday. He was not to disappoint the generation that had come before. That hadn’t left a hell of a lot of room or time for anything else.
And he wasn’t exactly smitten now. At least, not only that. He was smitten, infatuated and head over heels. The whole gamut, up to and including wildly in love.
A horn blared behind them and the cabdriver muttered something in a foreign tongue that obviously wasn’t very flattering. Christopher hardly heard him. His mind was elsewhere.
This was it—the woman he wanted to marry. He knew himself well enough to know that though this appeared like a snap judgment on his part, it wasn’t. It was very sound.
He liked everything about her. Playing his own devil’s advocate, he had tried to find a flaw, something to pick at, and couldn’t. For a whole week, he’d tried, thinking that being away from her would naturally cool any fire he had felt.
It only fanned it.
The entire time he had been away from her, he’d been preoccupied. Snippets of the moments they’d spent together would replay themselves through his mind and he would drift off in the middle of meetings. People began to notice and to talk. This was completely out of character for him. It was chalked up as something to do with his recent illness.
Well, if this was being ill, he hoped he’d never get well.
Christopher looked down at the envelope on the cracked vinyl seat beside him. On impulse, he’d decided to bring the contracts back down himself rather than send them by courier, or Express Mail. He had never done anything on impulse before. But he wanted an excuse to see her again; he needed to see her again.
Like a kid, he thought with a grin. A kid who knew what he wanted.
More horns blared. He felt his impatience mounting. Christopher slid forward, leaning toward the driver. “Can’t this thing go any faster?”
The driver snorted, waving a dismissive hand at the cars around them. “It could, if the traffic was moving, which, if you look, it ain’t.” Dark shaggy brows drooped over penetrating, black marble eyes as he looked over his shoulder at his fare. “Take it easy, mister. I’m doing the best I can. Whoever you’re seeing’ll still be there by the time I get you to Wilshire.”
True enough, but it didn’t dissipate the sense of urgency he felt. “I’ve wasted thirty-three years. I don’t want to waste any more.”
The driver just shrugged in response, turning forward again. Tourists. They were all the same. Crazy and in a hurry to get there.
CHRISTOPHER RELISHED the fact that his behavior was completely out of character for him. Normally, he would have had his assistant call her assistant and arrange a meeting. But that was before he’d met her. Now he couldn’t wait to see the look on her face. Couldn’t wait to touch that face, to hold her against him.
God, but he had missed her.
Getting off on the seventh floor, he hurried down the corridor to Theresa’s office.
Heidi’s myopic eyes were round as Frisbees as she recognized him. Jumping to her feet, the word Mayday flashed through her mind.
“Sir, wait. You can’t go in there. She’s in conference.” It was the first thing that popped into her head.
“I won’t say a word until she’s finished,” he promised, passing Heidi’s desk. Knocking once, he opened the door to Theresa’s office and then walked in, whistling.
In the middle of a call, her chair turned toward the window, Theresa heard the door to her office open and close. Heidi usually buzzed her before entering. Bemused, Theresa turned her chair around to face the door.
There was an incredibly good-looking man standing in her office. Well, well, well, Valentine’s Day had arrived early this year.
“I’ll call you back,” Theresa murmured into the receiver, her eyes never leaving the stranger. She hung up before the person on the other end had a chance to respond.
A broad, inviting smile of welcome spread out over her lips.
The smile on Christopher’s faded slightly as he stepped forward. He had the oddest feeling....
“Theresa?”
“Yes?”
He obviously had an advantage over her, she thought. But that wouldn’t be for long. She intended to have one over him before the evening ended.
Christopher shook his head. Something was out of kilter. There was something about her.... “No.”
Theresa blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not.” He moved closer, looking at her. Studying her. She looked like Theresa, and yet... “Theresa, I mean. You’re not Theresa.” Was he losing his mind?
“I most certainly am.” A flirtatious light entered her eyes as she laughed.
It was all wrong. Her laugh was all wrong. Different. It wasn’t husky, wasn’t melodious. And there was no dimple at the corner of her mouth when she smiled, he realized suddenly. Had he imagined all of that? No, he couldn’t have. He couldn’t have imagined the color of her eyes, either. The ones he was looking into were clear water blue, not brilliant the way they had been.
Completely turned around and at a loss, Christopher ran a hand through his hair, staring at the woman in front of him. Maybe he was hallucinating?
“Theresa Cochran?” he repeated dumbly. He’d made love to the woman, absorbed every nuance of her body into his. Why did it feel as if he was looking into the face of a stranger?
Nodding, Theresa rounded her desk, a huntress scenting her prey. “Yes, I’m Theresa Cochran. I’ve never been Theresa Cochran more in my life.”
T.J. opened the door that connected her office to Theresa’s. She’d been doing some preliminary sketches on the next phase of advertising for MacAffee Toys and wanted to run it by Theresa. Lately, she didn’t trust her judgment about anything. Her brain felt leaden.
“Theresa, I—” The inside of her mouth turned to dust. “Christopher.” His name came out on a barely audible whisper.
When he turned to look at her, she saw the flicker of doubt, then recognition pass over his face.
No! The single word screamed in her brain. Not like this. She didn’t want him finding out like this.
Flustered, miserable, T.J. backpedaled as fast as she could. “Mr. MacAffee, Theresa’s told me so much about you. This is an honor, finally getting to meet you.”
A brave smile pasted on her face, she stepped forward putting out her hand.
Christopher felt as if he’d just stumbled into a mirrored room in a carnival fun house. With a few changes here and there, Theresa and the woman greeting him looked enough alike to be twins.
In fact, if she just loosened her hair, the woman in the doorway... The look in her eyes...
As if in a trance, Christopher took the hand she extended. He held it a moment longer than was necessary. Held it as he looked at her thoughtfully.
He saw the dimple at the corner of her mouth.
And then he knew.
10
“TH
ERESA?”
Though in his mind, he knew, Christopher still couldn’t make his heart believe it. Didn’t want to believe that the woman he’d fallen in love with had deliberately duped him for some unknown reason. That would have made him the worst possible kind of fool.
Theresa felt as if she’d fallen into a foreign language film where the subtitles had gotten scrambled. “No, I already told you, I’m Theresa.”
“She is,” T.J. told Christopher quietly. “I’m TJ.” She couldn’t draw her eyes away from his. They looked so dark, so forbidding. “Theresa, I’d like you to meet Christopher MacAffee.”
The reason for the confusion had suddenly dawned on Theresa a moment before T.J. had said his name. The sinking sensation in the pit of Theresa’s stomach widened at the confirmation.
“Oh, God.”
Christopher didn’t know what to say. What could he say? It was hard to form a coherent sentence while volcanoes were erupting all around him and the ground was shaking.
What the hell was going on here? Why had she lied to him about who she was? It didn’t make any sense. All he knew was that she’d lied and that it hurt. Hurt like hell because he’d trusted her without reservations.
Her nerves knitted together furiously, and T.J. tried to keep a steady rein on them as she searched for a way to resolve this mess she found herself in.
Even as she did, she knew there was no way.
“Could you give us a minute, Theresa?” T.J. couldn’t bring herself to look away, couldn’t bring herself to look at anything except the deep, unreadable darkness in Christopher’s eyes.
She should have told him, she thought in desperation. Somehow, she should have found a way to tell him. Now he was furious with her. But there still had to be a way to make him understand.
The tension in the room was almost physical, making it difficult to breathe.
“I can explain all this,” Theresa began tentatively.
When he didn’t look at her, Theresa laid a perfectly manicured, hot pink-tipped hand on his arm.
Christopher shrugged it off slowly, coldly. “I don’t think anything needs to be explained. It’s pretty evident.” For whatever reason, she had played him for a fool. And he had helped her.
No, none of it was evident, T.J. thought fiercely. Whatever horrible thing he was thinking, she had to make him see that it wasn’t true. That no harm had been intended. She couldn’t stand having him look at her like that, as if he didn’t know her. As if she’d done something awful to him.
“Theresa?” T.J. entreated her cousin.
Theresa understood and retreated. “I’ll just be next door if you need me.” Unless she missed her guess, her cousin had more at stake here than she had.
It took Christopher a moment to get his emotions under control. Rage was a completely new feeling for him. As love had been before it. Funny how the same person roused both.
The room was so quiet, he could hear her breathing. “Interesting way you have of conducting business.”
His voice was cold, impersonal. His eyes were like sharp knives, cutting out her heart. She wanted to speak, but couldn’t.
“Do you and your cousin sleep with all your prospective clients?”
TJ.’s eyes widened as if she’d been physically slapped. She couldn’t believe that he could say that to her. Whatever she’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. “That’s not fair! I tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen.”
“Fair?” Temper flashed in his eyes like a greaseladen pan bursting into flame. He saw her tremble as she stumbled a step backward. And then something seemed to snap to attention within her. She held her ground. He could have wrung her neck. “You’re a hell of a one to talk about ‘fair.’ You used me, Theresa. Or T.J., or whoever the hell you really are.” Bile rose in his mouth and left a bitter taste. As bitter a taste as her deception left. “I thought you were different, but you’re like all the others.” He supposed that made him naive. Thirty-three years old and he was behaving like some hayseed from the backwoods.
Her head jerked up. She had no idea what kind of people he’d dealt with, but she had a pretty good idea. And she didn’t like what he was saying. “Don’t go lumping me in with people like that.”
“Why?” he shouted into her face before he caught himself. He wasn’t going to embarrass himself any more than he already had. Lowering his voice until it was a steely growl, he asked, “What makes you different?”
“I—”
He didn’t want to hear elaborate excuses. He already knew how creative she could be. There were facts to deal with. “Did you or did you not sleep with me?”
T.J. felt as if she was being attacked. He wouldn’t let her defend herself. “I did, but—”
“And do we or don’t we now have a contract between us?”
This wasn’t coming out right. He was twisting things around. What he was inferring wasn’t true. She had to make him understand that. “Yes, but—”
That was his case, pure and simple. Pure and simple—that’s what he’d thought she was, beneath the bravado. Talk about being a jerk—he took the prize. “Then how are you different?”
How could he ask? Didn’t he know? “I don’t do that sort of thing. I don’t use my body to cement business relations.”
He wanted to believe her. He couldn’t believe her. “Oh, no?” The laugh was short, cruel. The sound cut right through her. “That’s a little hard to believe. Don’t forget, I was there.”
T.J. clenched her hands into fists at her sides. She wanted to beat on him. To pound on his chest until she cracked that shield he had over it and freed his heart.
She lifted her chin defiantly. “I don’t care what you believe.” Yes, yes, I do, damn you. How can you say these things to me? How could you make love with me and then say this? “I just know what’s true.”
He turned from her and she grabbed his arm, jerking him around. The look he gave her almost turned her tongue to stone. But he had to hear this from her. He had to know.
“I didn’t sleep with you because of the contracts, or because of business. It was just something that happened between us.” He had to know that. Didn’t he?
“Magic?” he said disdainfully.
She stared at him, dumbfounded. He was ridiculing her. Well, for her it had been magic.
“Yes, magic, for lack of a different word, or maybe it is the word. Magic, a spell. I don’t know what came over me.” Backing away from him, she threw up her hands as she began to pace about the office like a tiger searching for a way to escape out of its cage. “Damn it, I don’t even kiss on the first date.”
Tears were stinging her eyes and she drew in a deep breath, hoping that would somehow keep them from spilling out. She wouldn’t let Christopher see her cry. He’d probably accuse her of using tears to make him feel guilty.
Swallowing, she turned to look at him, remembering the way it had been between them. Remembering the shimmering moment when she had thought he loved her. “It just felt as if you needed me—”
He had needed her. Or thought he had. But he refused to give her that satisfaction now. “Oh, then it was pity that had you making love to me.”
She ignored the sarcasm. “And I needed you.” Her eyes challenged him. “Now you can believe me or not, but I’ve never slept with anyone else except for Megan’s father.”
Megan. Something else she’d lied about. How many more lies were there? Probably too many to count. “Then she isn’t your niece.” There was no emotion in his voice and it was all the more chilling for that.
T.J. blew out a long, shaky breath. “No, she’s my daughter.”
Maybe, if he’d thought about it, he would have surmised as much. But he hadn’t thought. Hadn’t been able to think. She’d seemed to infiltrate every portion of his brain. Like a virus.
One he was damn well going to be inoculated against. “What else wasn’t true?”
“Nothing.” He didn’t believe her. She could see it in his eyes. Why should
he?
Why shouldn’t he? she demanded more fiercely.
She was getting herself all tangled up. “Everything else was true. Everything I told you about the company.” T.J. drew closer to him. “And everything that happened between us.”
He had to believe that, she thought. He just had to. She couldn’t bear it if he thought she’d lied to him about that.
He struggled with the temptation to crush her to him. God help him, even after all this, he still wanted her. Which made him an even bigger fool.
Christopher turned from her, from her haunted eyes and from the scent of her hair that was driving him crazy with desire. “You’ll forgive me if I cast a jaded eye on that.”
Suddenly he had to get out of here. He started for the door.
Throwing herself into his path, TJ. made one more attempt. “Look, you were set to meet Theresa, insisted on it. ‘Company policy,’ we were told. Theresa really wanted your contract.”
He felt his mouth twisting into a mocking sneer. “Apparently—”
Gaining momentum, T.J. wouldn’t allow him to interrupt. “And then she was in a car accident—”
“Oh, please—” Did she think he was that naive? Car accident. Was that the best she could do? He would have given her more credit than that.
“She was,” T.J. insisted. When he made a move to open the door, she placed her hand on his chest. Taking him by surprise, she managed to shove him back. “It was a minor accident, but the paramedics took her to the hospital and the doctor insisted on keeping her there for observation. She’d had a hard enough time scheduling this meeting with you and you were already on your way. She was afraid you’d be annoyed when she wasn’t there and take your business to another company.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me she was in an accident?” That would have been the logical thing to do.
TJ. wished now that she had. “Theresa has a reputation for being flighty. She was afraid you’d just think she was putting you off.”
Theresa, or T.J., he amended, had a point. He probably wouldn’t have believed the excuse. He didn’t think he did now.
My Phony Valentine Page 12