by Linda Wisdom
Evelyne ignored her. “You’re just going to have to be open and watch all the signs,” she advised, laughing loudly when Jill threw a small throw pillow at her. “You can’t fight fate, Jill.”
“The man has no personal interest in me,” Jill protested. “As soon as everything settles down, he’ll be out prowling around until he finds someone new to take Rita’s place.” She didn’t find the idea comforting. “Although there won’t be much difference in whomever he chooses, since his women all seem to be alike.”
Evelyne raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
“They’re all tall, willowy due to careful dieting, but certainly curved in all the right places. They have careers, not just jobs, usually in a professional field, and they know the rules of Greg’s game so well you’d think they had invented them,” Jill explained. “Meaning there are no ties, and when the time comes to part, they remain friends.” She wrinkled her nose. “Greg’s accountant, dentist, and hairstylist are all ex-lovers. His past is more colorful than my wardrobe.”
Evelyne chuckled, pulling the last cookie out of the bag, breaking it in two and handing half to Jill. “We should all be so lucky.”
“What about Ross?” Jill asked, referring to an attorney her friend had been seeing recently.
She shook her head. “He had some pretty strange notions the first time he took me to his apartment.”
Jill’s eyes grew very round. “Really? But he seemed so nice that time Cal and I met the two of you for dinner.”
“Let’s just say that a man’s apartment decorated in black leather with a medieval dungeon look to it gives me a weird feeling.”
Jill chewed on her lower lip, unable to equate the low-key, blond man dressed in the pinstripe suit with someone who obviously preferred leather in the privacy of his home. “It just goes to show you can’t trust your first impressions,” she mused. “He certainly didn’t look the type.”
“I should have known something was wrong when he kept asking me to wear my black boots.” Evelyne looked thoroughly disgusted. “Luckily I’ve worked all those make up clinics lately, so I’m too busy to care that my current social life is zip.”
Jill lay back against the couch and groaned loudly. “Men are one big pain in the neck four feet south,” she declared.
“Maybe, but they do have their uses.” She grinned wickedly, and the two women promptly dissolved into giggles such as they had shared since their years at college.
The following day passed smoothly, with Jill rising at nine to work with Greg on their new outline. She even took the time to dress in pale green linen pants and a matching cable knit sweater. She clipped the sides of her hair back and applied a light coating of makeup. She was all nonchalance when she sauntered into the office.
Greg glanced up, then did a double take. A low wolf whistle escaped his lips. “Don’t tell me you’re finally giving up those rags you usually wear,” he couldn’t resist commenting.
“I decided that if you’re taking me to lunch today, I should wear something a little more tasteful.” She gestured to her outfit with a languid air.
“I should have known you were going to stick me with the tab,” he murmured, standing up and pulling out a nearby chair with a courtly gesture. “Milady.”
“Thank you, Jeeves.” Jill’s drawl was definitely upper class English. She sat down, sliding her legs to one side, the ankles demurely crossed. Her lady of the manor routine was ruined when she crossed her eyes.
“Stop that!” Greg’s forefinger tapped the tip of her nose. “Someday you’re going to do that and you won’t be able to uncross those cute eyes of yours.”
“I bet I wouldn’t have to appear as Tilly Cook then.” She laughed. “Carlysle would have a fit, wouldn’t he?” She leaned back in the chair, her legs crossed, one foot seeming to tap out a silent rhythm. It was one of the few times she wasn’t able to tune in on his thoughts. In fact, it seemed to happen more and more lately. Ironically, it was happening just when she wanted to know even more about him. She watched him, idly noting the knife-sharp crease of his designer jeans and the fit of his spice-colored polo shirt. He looked so good!
“Jill!”
“Hm?” She slowly raised her eyes from the spot where his nipple impudently betrayed itself through the soft knit fabric.
“Clean out your ears, lady,” he ordered affectionately. “I’ve asked you three times if you’re ready to tackle the outline.”
“Oh, sure.” She still found it difficult to rouse herself. “Sounds fine.”
Greg wasn’t entirely convinced, especially since working on an outline wasn’t one of Jill’s favorite tasks. She preferred to get right into the heart of the book.
They did get some work done, however, then had a leisurely lunch at Fisherman’s Wharf. As was their custom, they flipped a coin to determine if they would sit in the smoking or nonsmoking section of the restaurant. It wasn’t that Greg strongly objected to Jill’s smoking, even though he gave her a bad time about smoking in the office. It was merely a courtesy they shared. Two hours later they returned home to work some more, and that evening they spent a few hours at Mahoney’s.
Jill was amused at Tank’s heavy-handed attempts at matchmaking, and Greg was just plain disgusted that a two-hundred-eighty-pound man was acting like the infamous matchmaker, Dolly Levi. As a result, he drank more bourbon than usual. The trouble was, he couldn’t even get drunk, since Tank didn’t allow excessive drinking in his bar and had the muscle to back up his rules.
“If you’re so up on togetherness, Tank, why haven’t you snared someone of your own?” Jill asked with a smile after he had expounded on the virtue of romance.
He snorted around the cigar in his mouth. “Hell, no. They’re too much trouble.” He stomped away when someone called out to him.
“Let’s go.” Greg dropped a couple of bills on the table and took Jill’s arm.
He remained morose and quiet during the short walk back to their house.
“Greg, you know that Tank didn’t mean any harm,” Jill chided him when they reached her front door. “You shouldn’t take him seriously. You’re perfectly safe from me,” she teased.
“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, leaning against the door frame. He straightened, staring at Jill with eyes that seemed to glow a foggy gray in the dim light.
“Sleep tight.” She couldn’t resist chuckling at her choice of words.
“Smart aleck,” he grumbled, reaching out for Jill and pulling her toward him. He kissed her thoroughly before disappearing down the stairs.
Jill remained in the doorway, stunned by the throbbing of her lips and the racing beat in her body.
“Well, I’ll be,” she murmured, a smile lighting up her face. Things were certainly livening up around here!
CHAPTER FIVE
With the outline of Hairy Harry’s new adventure finished and emailed to their agent, Jill and Greg repaired to their respective offices. Greg would work on writing the general story line while Jill worked up a complete personality sketch on each character. This part of the job usually took them about a week; then they would get back together to merge their thoughts and work together from there on.
A few weeks after Jill’s surgery, she dressed in a pair of tights and a crop top with the intention to try a few stretching exercises, only to learn exactly how tender her abdomen muscles were. She pressed her hands against her stomach as if her touch would force the soreness to disappear. Not in the mood to change her clothes, she walked downstairs to her office still in her dancewear.
“Well, if it isn’t Pavlova’s successor,” Greg greeted her with a steaming hot cup of coffee. He found himself fascinated by the way her crop top parted to reveal a silky strip of flesh when she reached for the cup. “In case you’ve forgotten, the doctor told you no strenuous exercise for six weeks and you’ve just passed the halfway mark.” There was no mistaking the thread of steel in his pleasant tone. What he really meant was that Jill would only be attending her dance
class when he said so and the doctor agreed.
Jill smiled and patted his cheek. “And here I thought you’d enjoy looking at my legs,” she cooed, setting the cup down and striking a sexy pose with her hips thrust to one side provocatively. Her pink, glossy lips pouted and her eyes half closed to resemble a sultry siren.
Greg swallowed. Oh, yes, he was extremely interested in looking at Jill’s legs, along with a few other parts of her anatomy. Nothing was difficult to miss in her figure molding clothing.
“Don’t you ever wear a bra?” he complained gruffly, turning away from the enticing sight.
Jill raised her eyebrows in surprise at his question. “I guess I don’t feel as if I need to worry, since I don’t have theâahâqualifications ninety-nine per cent of your girlfriends have.” She smiled sweetly. “Wait a minuteâthere was Laura. If I recall correctly, she couldn’t even have been helped by a teen bra.”
“Jill Blake, you’ve got a mean streak a mile long.”
“Hm, I must be improving. Last time you said it was five miles long.” She plopped herself in the chair behind her desk.
For the balance of the morning lazy banter was interspersed with casual innuendoes.
Jill was ready to suggest that they order in Mexican food for lunch when an unexpected visitor upset the even tenor of their day.
When the doorbell rang, Greg called out that he’d get it. Engrossed in her work, Jill didn’t bother to listen to the masculine murmurs coming from the entryway.
“Jill.” Greg’s voice was tight with some unidentifiable emotion.
“Huh?” She didn’t bother to look up from the flickering screen of the computer monitor before her.
“You have company.”
This time Jill didn’t miss the harsh edge of Greg’s words. She turned her head and looked up to see the tall man standing just behind Greg’s left shoulder. Oh no! Her throat closed, refusing to allow any words to pass between her lips.
“Hello, Jill.” The man’s voice was the stuff women’s dreams were made of.
This time her vocal cords loosened. “Josh.”
“I’m sure the two of you will excuse me,” Greg said stiffly, his manner indicating he wasn’t pleased by the manâs arrival.
“Of course.” She refused to flinch under his silent condemnation.
When Greg left the room he made sure to close the door behind him.
“It’s been a long time.” So sure was he of his welcome, Josh sat in a nearby chair without bothering to ask Jill’s permission. For a moment he seemed content to study her with hungry eyes.
“Has it?” She feigned disinterest. Jill wished she could tell herself Josh wasn’t as handsome as she remembered, but she knew she’d only be lying. Josh’s rich, coffee brown hair was still carefully styled, his tan as deep as ever, and his suit well-tailored. He exuded the aura of the successful businessman who wheeled and dealed in Washington, D.C., when not traveling around the country. Jill had fallen in love with him the year before, only to fall from her cloud with a very nasty bump. In the end she cut Josh out of her life as painfully as a surgeon operating without anesthesia, and the agony hadn’t ceased easily. In fact, it had taken a long time before she felt like a member of the human race again. Now she sat across from him, silently marveling that she had ever loved such a shallow man.
“Why are you here, Josh?” she asked quietly.
His smile was the result of expensive dental work. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“To take you out to dinner this evening.” He showed no doubt that she wouldnât accept his invitation.
“All right.” Jill wanted to smile at Josh’s quickly masked look of triumph. If he only knew what was in store for him. “You can pick me up at eight.” She stood up in a silent sign of dismissal.
“Until then.” Josh rose to his feet and sauntered over to Jill, intending to kiss her on the lips. She turned her face at the last moment so that his mouth brushed her cheek instead.
Sensing the success of Josh’s visit, upon his return to the office Greg was less than polite to Jill, especially when she informed him that she had a date with Josh that evening. Greg merely muttered that he would be gone for the rest of the afternoon and left the house.
That evening she dressed in an emerald green silk dress that skimmed lightly over her hips. Greg hovered nearby when Jill opened the front door after the bell rang. She was grateful that Josh was smart enough not to just walk in as he used to do.
“Oh, Jill, don’t forget that you can’t engage in strenuous activities for a couple more weeks,” Greg reminded her coolly, standing near the stairs.
Jill whirled, her visitor momentarily forgotten. “Thank you, Greg.” Her low voice tore through him like a partially dull knife. “It’s nice to see that you’re looking out for me so well.” She quickly opened the door and slipped outside.
Josh took Jill to an expensive restaurant and showered her with lavish flattery, but she was unmoved. It was easy for her to beg off going to his hotel for a nightcap as she bluntly explained she would prefer if Josh didnât contact her again. The man didnât hide his anger as he called for a taxi for her.
She smiled lightly, not surprised he easily lost his gentlemanly behavior when his plans were thwarted.
“It wasn’t because of me you broke off our affair, Jill,” he sneered, watching her climb into the taxi. “The only man who could have all of you is Richmond. It’s a shame really, because we could still have a great time if you cared to spread yourself around a bit.”
“Good-bye, Josh.” She looked up with the same smile. âIâm sure youâll find another woman to fall into your bed and not care thereâs nothing more than a shallow exterior.â She didnât flinch when he slammed the door after her.
Feeling better after telling Josh just what kind of man he was, Jill hurried into the house and bypassed her stairs for Greg’s. Without knocking, she walked inside his apartment; they never bothered locking their apartment doors when the front door was always secured. Then she continued through the darkened living room to the bedroom, where a light still shone.
“What theâ” Greg sat up under the covers and put the book he had been trying to read aside. He glanced at his clock. “Home early, aren’t you?”
“Give me a break, Greg.” Jill kicked her shoes off, picked up Greg’s glass and took a healthy swallow of his drink. She bent over coughing as the potent alcohol hit her stomach like a fiery sledgehammer.
“Serves you right.” Greg leaned over, snatching the glass out of her hand. “There’s wine in the refrigerator if you’d prefer something milder. I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t get it for you.” His eyes flicked toward his robe lying across a nearby chair.
Jill took his advice and went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of Chardonnay. She returned to the bedroom to find Greg sitting up in bed, his quilt covering him more securely.
“To a tarnished god,” she toasted, holding up a glass in a mock toast.
“Didn’t he appreciate being turned down?” Greg couldn’t resist asking, already figuring out why Jill had returned home so early.
“Does any man?” She kicked off her shoes and settled herself on the bed against the headboard next to Greg, adjusting the covers around her feet.
“Hey, will you watch it?” he ordered, grabbing the covers back before the cold air hit his naked skin.
“My feet are cold,” Jill grumbled, tucking her feet under her which raised her dress hem to an alarming height.
“Your damn feet are always cold.” Greg wished his robe were closer so he could get up to fix himself another drink. “Would you mind mixing another one for me?” He held up his glass.
She arched an eyebrow. “You can’t do it yourself?”
“Not without embarrassing both of us, since I’m not into wearing pajamas.”
Jill couldn’t resist a wicked smile. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them al
l.” But she did take his glass and go out to the kitchen to fix his drink. Jill wondered why Greg was acting so embarrassed. As she had told him, he certainly didn’t have anything different from other men. Or did he? She stood at the counter, still holding the club soda bottle. She wasn’t staring at anything in particular, but her silent question had set her to thinking. What was Greg like as a lover? He had to be good, judging from all his satisfied-looking girlfriends. Perhaps that was why his previous lovers remained his
friends. Were they hoping to gain admittance to his bed again? Still lost in her thoughts, Jill carried the glass back into the bedroom.
“Here.” She handed it to Greg.
He sipped and almost choked on the straight bourbon. “Thanks,” he said with a touch of dry sarcasm. He waited until Jill seated herself back on the bed, although he was sorely tempted to suggest that she sit in the chair. He doubted that he was up to any more of her teasing about his “modesty.”
“So what happened during your date with Josh?”
Jill sighed. She hadn’t told Greg what had happened when she had broken up with Josh, but she knew she would only be really over the man when she aired the truth. “He wants me back and I said no,” she murmured, picking up her wineglass and studying the contents. âHe didnât like hearing just what kind of man he is.â
Greg instinctively knew there was more to the story. “And?” he prompted softly.
Jill grimaced. “I always thought of myself as a very together woman. I make a good living, have a nice house, I’m not all that bad-looking, and I’ve had my share of men without any complications.” She winced at the painful thoughts intruding from her past. “Until I met Josh, that is. As you may remember, I met him at one of Evelyne’s parties and we hit it off right away. He told me he worked for a computer firm in Washington, D.C., but traveled here once a month for three or four days.”
Greg nodded grimly, also remembering that he and Josh hadn’t gotten along from the beginning.