by Meryl Sawyer
“I’m all ears.”
Phoebe cast a look at Max as if she was afraid of Jake. Cute. Real cute.
“Go on. Tell him,” prompted Max.
Phoebe faced Jake, artfully lowering her lashes, then gazing at him wide-eyed. Man, oh, man, Phoebe was a piece of work.
“Alyssa Rossi is trying to ruin my marriage.”
“Suppose she is. What do you expect me to do about it?” He already knew what the answer was going to be, but he wanted to hear her justify it.
“We could give Alyssa a cash settlement,” Max suggested. “She could move back to Italy or go to New York, where most jewelry designers have headquarters.”
Phoebe nodded and blessed Max with a megawatt smile. Jake could tell they’d discussed this at length. He hadn’t realized they were so close.
“Even if I gave her the money, what makes you think Alyssa would leave? What’s to keep her from staying here?”
“I’d arrange for her to receive an offer she couldn’t refuse.” The look on Max’s face said he had it all planned out.
“Do you honestly believe getting rid of Alyssa would save your marriage?” Jake asked Phoebe.
“You don’t know Alyssa,” Phoebe said.
No, he didn’t, but he planned to.
“Ever since she came to live with my family, she’s been jealous of me.”
“Why?”
“Alyssa’s pretty but she doesn’t have …” Phoebe paused, searching for the right word.
“Class,” Max said.
“Didn’t she move in with you when she was a young child? How much class could you have had back then?”
“At first she was just mean,” Phoebe continued, ignoring his comment. “As time went on, it got worse. She’d do anything to spite me.”
He wasn’t buying a word of this, but he kept quiet to see where it would go.
“Clay dated her once or twice and Alyssa got the idea he was in love with her. When he and I became serious, she couldn’t handle it. She sulked and refused to attend our wedding.”
“Maybe I should get Clay’s version of this,” Jake said.
“He’ll tell you the same thing,” Phoebe replied.
Jake thought Phoebe was banking on the typical male aversion to discussing their personal relationships and was counting on Jake not talking to Clay, but she certainly sounded as if she believed Clay would back her up.
“Alyssa tried everything she could to mess up their wedding,” Max told him. “She canceled the invitations, spread gossip, and made a pain-in-the-ass of herself because she was jealous.”
“She’s still after Clay.”
Jake smiled at Phoebe, or maybe he just showed her his pearly whites. “Can’t you hold on to your husband?”
“We’re going through a rough time right now.” A faint tremor altered the pitch of her voice. “I don’t need Alyssa tempting Clay the way she did last night.”
“Last night?”
A swift shadow of anger swept across her face. “Right after you left Alyssa, Clay went in. He didn’t come home last night.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m having him followed.”
“A marriage made in heaven,” he joked while he wondered if Phoebe was telling the truth. When it came to relationships with women, he didn’t have the experience necessary to deal with a complicated mess like this. He told himself what he was feeling wasn’t jealousy.
“Son,” Max said, reaching across the table, but stopping short of touching Jake’s hand. His father never called him son, and he never called Max father. Jake braced himself. “Alyssa fooled you into thinking she’s in love with you, didn’t she?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Last night you said—”
“Phoebe, I was joking. You came up, ready to claw Alyssa’s eyes out. I didn’t want a scene at Max’s party. That’s all.”
“You know about Phoebe’s baby, don’t you?” asked his father.
Jake nodded, watching Phoebe. She dropped her eyes before his steady gaze, and he hadn’t a clue what she was thinking.
“It hurts Phoebe too much to talk about little Patrick.”
Jake picked up a quaver in his father’s voice and noticed the expression of sadness on his face. He wanted to tell him to get a grip and not let Phoebe fool him, but considering a baby had been abducted, even he couldn’t make a joke.
“Having Alyssa around only reminds me …” Phoebe’s voice trailed off, her lower lip trembling.
“Now, Phoebe, don’t you cry.” Max put his arm around her.
Gimme a break.
“Get rid of that woman,” Max demanded.
The waiter hovered, ready to take their order, but Phoebe and Max hadn’t touched their menus. Jake finished his coffee and shoved the cup aside.
“Enjoy your lunch.” Jake stood up. “Max, come by my office when you’re finished.”
He didn’t wait to hear his father’s response. He strode across the restaurant and hurried down the stairs. He was so preoccupied he would have passed Wyatt LeCroix without saying hello.
“Jake, where are you going?” asked Wyatt.
“Back to the office.”
“I thought you were joining us for lunch.”
Son of a bitch. They’d all planned to gang up on him. Wyatt took off his shades and tucked them into the inside pocket of his sports coat. Jake decided he didn’t like him. He wasn’t sure why and put it down to gut instinct.
“Wyatt, I need to ask you something.”
“Yes?” There was a note of caution in his voice.
“What really happened to Phoebe’s baby?”
“How should I know?”
“You were at the hospital that night.”
“Yes, Clay called me as soon as the baby was born. I brought Phoebe two dozen red roses. They’re her favorite. I looked at the baby and left.”
“Do you think Alyssa took him?”
“Who else would have?”
Wyatt hadn’t sounded as convincing as his sister, Jake decided after he’d said good-bye and was walking down the street. How in hell had he gotten himself in the middle of this mess, Jake asked himself. The answer came in a single word: Alyssa.
He wouldn’t know what to do about this until he’d spoken to her. He made a mental bet with himself that she’d immediately tell him about Clay. If she didn’t, then she had something to hide, and she wouldn’t be worth taking on his father over getting rid of Rossi Designs.
CHAPTER 12
Alyssa picked up her telephone, but kept her eyes on the computer screen.
“Mr. Williams is here to see you,” Olivia told her.
“Send him in.” She hung up, a warm glow of excitement making her smile. Despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Jake.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked as he came through the door.
“No. I’m just running a few designs.” She tried not to sound too eager to see him. “Are you interested in seeing how jewelry is designed on a computer?”
“Sure.”
He came around behind her, leaned over her shoulder, and looked at the computer screen. She couldn’t help noticing a faint trace of citrus aftershave. She told herself to keep her mind on business, but she couldn’t help remembering the way he’d kissed her.
“Wow. That’s a necklace, right?”
“Yes.” She clicked the mouse and several colors in the necklace changed. “I can experiment with color and designs without touching a stone.”
“Saves time and money.”
“Yes.” She pointed to the large square designer’s tray next to the computer terminal. On the black velvet were about two dozen beads ranging from small morsels of aquamarines to pellets of chalcedony to dollops of citrine to small chunks of sapphires. “I look at the beads I plan to use, then go to the computer to do the actual designing.”
“Where did you get the software program?”
“It’s mine.” She wasn’t able to keep the p
ride out of her voice. “I worked with a couple of techies to get it to run properly, but I designed it. I have it licensed in Europe.”
“Everyone using it has to pay you a fee?”
“That’s right.” She couldn’t help being pleased at the admiration she saw in his expression. “I’ll need to get it licensed here.”
“Call the legal department. That’s their job.”
She thought a moment. “This is going to sound strange coming from me.”
“I doubt it.”
She swiveled in her chair so she wasn’t talking to him over her shoulder. “Joining TriTech is already giving me much more time to design. I used to spend part of each day invoicing customers and another part of the day working on the accounts receivable and stuff like that. Now someone else will spend time doing the paperwork.”
He’d sat down in the chair beside her desk while she’d been talking. “That’s the idea behind the company. Certain functions are needed by every business. This way you’re free to use your time doing what you do best.”
She nodded and struggled not to think about what his shoulders did for a suit. He’d loosened his tie a little, and it gave him an attractively casual look as if he didn’t take business clothes all that seriously.
“Did you want to see me about something, Jake?”
His eyes seemed to darken a little as he held her gaze for a beat before answering. “Have you spoken with Rueben Sanchez?”
“Yes.” She checked her watch. “He’ll be here in about half an hour.”
“I see,” he responded and she thought he seemed a little troubled.
“I hope he can solve the mystery.”
“If Sanchez can’t, no one can.”
His voice had a flat tone now almost as if his mind was elsewhere. Why had he come all the way down here from his penthouse office to ask her about the private investigator when he could have used the telephone? She’d like to think he wanted to see her, but that didn’t seem to be his purpose. She considered telling him about Clay’s visit, but decided now wasn’t the time. Jake was too distracted.
“Aunt Thee would like you to come to dinner next Thursday if you’re available.”
“I’ll check my schedule.”
The dismissive note in his voice unnerved her. He was a mercurial man, a complex person who was difficult to get to know. Now he seemed more like the Jake Williams she’d met in Florence.
He slowly rose and headed toward the door. “I’m outta here. I’m going up to see Clay.”
“Wait!” She jumped up from her chair. “Before you talk to him, I need to tell you something. I think you’re going to want to sit down.”
He returned to the chair near her desk. She leaned against her desk, half sitting, half standing and faced him.
“Could you … I mean, would you mind acting as if something is going on between us when you see Clay?”
“Why?”
She’d expected him to joke the way he usually did but he seemed deadly serious. “After you left last night, Clay came to see me. He explained why he’d married Phoebe.”
“Did he have anything new to say?”
“Not really. He wanted to get me back here. That’s the reason he bought the company.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“He said he’s divorcing Phoebe, and he wants me to give him another chance.” She tried not to sound emotional but it was difficult with him looking at her so intently. What was he thinking? “I said no way, and I meant it. Whatever I felt for him is gone, but you know Clay. Women don’t tell him no. That’s why I led him to believe we’re … involved.”
He came to his feet in one quick motion, and his arms were around her before she could catch her breath. “Darlin’, when a couple starts talking about birth control, they’re involved.”
“I suppose you’re trying to be charming.” She struggled to throttle the dizzying current racing through her. “I have no intention of sleeping with you.”
“Yeah, right, and there could be peace in the Middle East.”
She didn’t even try to dodge his kiss. There was a controlled strength in his body as his arms held her, but his mouth showed no such restraint. His lips parted hers and his aggressive tongue thrust into her mouth. Longing rose, swift and hot, from someplace deep inside her. She shamelessly returned his kiss, her hands clutching his sturdy shoulders.
“I may not be as handsome as Clay—”
“Of course, you are,” she said before she could stop herself.
“Hey, I’ve got a mirror. I know what I look like.”
“You’re handsome in a different way. Clay’s a pretty boy type. You’re more masculine and you’ve got …”
“Go on. I’m dying to hear this.”
“Never mind.”
“I’m not going to stop kissing you until you tell me.”
He reclaimed her lips, crushing her to him. She slid to the side, halfheartedly trying to escape the pressure of his weight, but he had her trapped between his body and the desk. The movement brushed her breasts across the front of his open suit jacket. His heat seeped through his shirt into her clothing, making her nipples acutely sensitive.
“S-stop,” she mumbled against his lips.
“You know how to stop me.”
“I’ll scream and Olivia will call Security.”
He mocked her with a shrug. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about TriTech’s armed security guards bursting into her office and hauling him out.
“Tell me what I want to know.”
“I forgot what I was going to say, honest.”
His mouth swooped down and smothered the last word. That couldn’t be … Oh, my god, she was dealing with a male who was rapidly becoming aroused. Knowing Jake, she wouldn’t put it past him to—
She pushed him back, saying. “You win.” It took her a second to catch her breath. “I was going to say you have … bedroom eyes.”
He released her then threw back his head and roared. If Olivia had any brains, hearing this racket, she would call Security. When he finally was able to speak, he asked, “Then why aren’t we in the bedroom?”
“I’m not some easy piece, you know.”
“Coulda’ fooled me.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I’m just joking. I respect you. Isn’t that what women want? I heard it on a talk show. Okay, so I respect you.”
“Isn’t your beeper going off?” She pointed to the small black pager attached to his belt. It was vibrating. She couldn’t miss the bulge south of the beeper.
“Yeah, but I’m trying to ignore it.” He looked down at the digital read out. “Gotta rock and roll.” He headed toward the door, adding, “I’ll come down here around six. I want to show you the shop I think we should lease for Rossi Designs. Then we’ll go to dinner.”
The minute the door closed behind him, Alyssa put her arms around herself, whispering, “What am I going to do about him?”
She was over her head here, and she knew it.
Jake took the stairs to his office to give himself time. He moved slowly. Going up the stairs with a world-class erection was about all the fun he cared to have. In this state, he wouldn’t be able to think clearly when he confronted his father. He realized he had a sex drive that wouldn’t quit—what red-blooded male didn’t?—but he’d never come so close to losing control. In the middle of the day. At the office where he made it a firm policy to have nothing but professional relationships with women. He’d deliberately hired a very competent gay man instead of a woman so he wouldn’t be distracted.
“Bedroom eyes,” he muttered to himself. No wonder he found Alyssa so fascinating. She came up with the damnedest things, and she took his lame attempts at jokes in stride.
When he’d first talked to her, Jake had thought Alyssa wasn’t going to tell him about Clay’s visit. He had to admit he’d wondered if there might be some truth in what Phoebe had said. He should have known better. Alyssa hadn’t wanted him to find
out she’d told Clay that they were involved.
Involved. Only a woman would use that word. Same for bedroom eyes. He chuckled to himself. Then he realized this was the first fun he’d had in years.
Hell, it was the first time since he’d come to New Orleans that he’d really enjoyed himself. He’d worked himself so hard he barely had time to walk his dog. He wondered if Alyssa liked dogs. Who wouldn’t like Benson?
He paused, his hand on the door out of the stairwell, wondering about his father. Today he’d seen a side of him that Jake hadn’t realized existed.
Max Williams, the entrepreneur with the survival instincts of a cockroach, was basically an insecure man. How else would you explain his need to be accepted by New Orleans society? Why else would he allow Phoebe to manipulate him?
Maybe Max saw acceptance as another challenge like politics. He wanted to be United States senator. When he’d confided this, Jake had been shocked. Politics? Yuck.
No question about it. Jake was like his mother. JoBeth Williams hadn’t given two hoots in hell what people thought about her. When she’d found herself alone with a son to raise and no money, she’d taken a job in a bait shop on Mobile’s docks. “It’s the most money I can make,” she’d told him.
She’d worked there up until the day she’d keeled over while hauling fifty pounds of bait-size anchovies onto a sport fishing boat. Jake had few regrets about his life. If he had it to do all over, he’d live it the same way, but he did wish his mother had lived long enough to see him be successful. He could have bought her the house overlooking the bay that she’d always admired.
The most he’d been able to do was erect a magnificent headstone to replace the metal faceplate on his mother’s grave. He had a standing order with a florist to always have fresh stargazer lilies—her favorite—in the vase at her grave. It wasn’t enough, but it was all he could do.
He pushed open the door, stepped into the hall, and ducked into the executive washroom. He wiped away traces of Alyssa’s lipstick. Gazing into the mirror, he said, “Bedroom eyes.”
Jake winked and his reflection winked back. He made a few adjustments, then buttoned his suit jacket to cover his trousers.
“Your father’s waiting for you,” Spencer told him the second Jake stepped into the reception area.