Forbidden Attraction: A Contemporary Romance Box Set

by K. C. Crowne

  “You should probably learn,” I cautioned him with a smile. “Your daughter’s going to be a young woman before much longer, and she’ll need you to take her shopping.”

  “Okay,” he said agreeably. He pulled a pink dress with puffy sleeves off a rack, seemingly at random. “What about this?”

  “You’re kidding. Where am I going to wear something like that?”

  “I thought this was your style.”

  “What made you think this was my style?”

  “I don’t know. It looks like your bridesmaid dress.” He grinned rather wickedly.

  I groaned. “You’re the absolute worst. Put that down. I don’t need dresses anyway, I need shirts. Maybe a pair of jeans.” I wound through the racks until I found jeans and began to examine them. “Jesus,” I mumbled, pulling the price tag out of one of the pairs.

  “What is it?”

  “Three hundred dollars? For jeans?”

  “Well, they’re good jeans,” he defended.

  “They look exactly like the pair I have at home.”

  “They’ll last longer. They’re better made. And I bet they feel better too.” He took the jeans off the rack and thrust them into my hands. “Go try them on,” he said. “See if you notice a difference.”

  It had been ages since I’d tried something on in a store. I knew my size and style well enough to know what I liked and what would fit me. But I wasn’t about to spend three hundred dollars on anything without making sure, so I allowed Noah to steer me to a dressing room and went inside. The door closed behind me, I stepped out of my own pants and into the three-hundred-dollar jeans. They fit like a second skin and felt as comfortable as my flannel pajama pants. I turned and looked in the mirror. My ass definitely looked good in them too. Suddenly I didn’t really mind the high price tag. I wanted them.

  “Are you coming out?” Noah asked. “I want to see how they look.”

  “Okay, hang on,” I agreed. I stepped back into my mules, unlocked the fitting room door, and walked out.

  Noah was sitting on a bench, but he stood when he saw me, as if I were a date he’d been waiting to escort somewhere. “Wow,” he said. “Those do look good. Turn around?” Somewhat shyly, I did. There was silence for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said huskily. “Yeah, those are good. You should get them.”

  “Jenna?” I whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice. Jessica was standing at the entrance to the dressing rooms, several garments in hand, staring at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Trying on jeans,” I managed.

  “Okay, but, like, you shop at Target these days, don’t you?”

  My face heated as I glanced at Noah and back to my sister. “Usually.”

  “How can you afford Bergdorf’s? Are you just window shopping?”

  “No, I—”

  “Hang on. You’re not spending Grandma Susie’s money here, are you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Mom! Mom, you’ll never believe this!”

  My heart sank as my mother appeared, saw me, and clenched her jaw. “My God. Jenna?”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t waste any time, I see.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I thought you wanted that money for your little art studio.”

  “I’m a designer,” I mumbled, embarrassed as if I were doing something wrong. But she was right. As soon as I’d received the money from Grandma Susie, I’d rushed straight out to one of the most expensive department stores in the city to buy clothes.

  “It’s her money now,” Noah said, stepping forward. “She can spend it how she wants to.”

  My mother glanced at him, eyeing him almost disdainfully. “Oh, it’s you,” she insulted. “Are you two together now?”

  “No,” Noah said quickly, and my blush intensified. Why was he so eager to make the point that we weren’t together? “I’m just a friend. And Jenna has every right to shop for clothes if she wants to.”

  “She is a little lacking in the fashion department,” Jessica commented, and I wondered if she thought this was defending me or if she was being a jerk.

  “She deserves something good.” Noah frowned. “After all she’s been through with the break in.”

  “The what?” my mother asked, her head jerking to look at me.

  Noah was startled by her response. “You don’t know about—”

  “Okay, let’s go,” I interrupted, grabbing Noah’s arm. “Wait for me downstairs, okay? I just need to change out of these jeans and we’ll go.”

  “Jenna, what’s going on? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I really just want to go now.”

  “Aren’t you getting the jeans?” Noah asked.

  “No, I don’t need them. It’s fine. Go downstairs, okay?” I darted back into the dressing room, yanked off the expensive jeans, and jerked mine back on. When I stepped out of the dressing room, Noah was gone. My mother and sister were still standing outside the dressing rooms, and I felt their eyes on me as I bolted for the escalator. I just wanted to get out of there before they started asking questions about the break in. The last thing I wanted was for my mother, who was always so critical of my choices and my career, to get wind of the fact that a client might have trashed my apartment.

  Noah was waiting for me on the lower level, concern written all over his face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Can we go?”

  “You didn’t tell your family about the break in,” he surmised.

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to spill the beans.”

  “It’s not a big deal.” I was more upset about why he felt the need to be so emphatic about the fact that we weren’t a couple, but how could I say that to him? We weren’t a couple.

  There was an attraction between us, yes, but it seemed very clear to me now that he’d never intended it to go any farther than it already had. We’d had some amazing sex, but that was all he really wanted from me.

  And I’d though hand holding actually meant something.

  I felt like an idiot. I felt like exactly the kind of person who would rush out to spend her inheritance on designer jeans that showed off her butt. I was supposed to be smarter than that.

  “I’ll drop you off at home,” Noah said. “Then I need to go into the office for a few hours.”

  “Okay. I’ve got some work to do anyway.”

  “I’m really sorry today didn’t work out,” he consoled. “I did think you looked great in those jeans.”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t even look at him. I was going to have to figure out a way to stop caring what he thought.

  Chapter 23

  Noah

  I was still thinking about Jenna as I got off the elevator and headed down the hall to my office. I genuinely felt bad about the tumultuous relationship she seemed to have with her mother, and I wished there was something I could do to ease her mind about it.

  Also, I couldn’t stop picturing her in those jeans.

  Maybe I could get in touch with Bergdorf’s and have them sent over to the house for her. She’d seemed to like them before she’d been spooked right out of the store, and I thought she probably would have bought them for herself. Sending them would be a nice surprise for her.

  The investors with whom I’d rescheduled the meeting to accommodate Eric’s surprise arrival in my office were waiting in the conference room. I paused a moment to gather my wits, then opened the door and stepped in. “Gentlemen,” I said, “thank you for coming in”

  Every one of them got to their feet. “Sit down, Mr. Clark,” Mr. Kepler said.

  I raised my eyebrows. I was unused to being told to sit down in my own place of work. “What’s this about?” I asked, remaining on my feet. “I’ve been looking over your file with regard to your financial issues—”

  “We’re not here about any financial issues,” Kepler said.

  “No?” I asked. “Then wha
t exactly are you here for?”

  “We’re here about the favor you were asked to do for our organization.”

  I blinked. “What favor? What organization?”

  “You know who we work for.”

  “Harrison Realty?”

  All the men exchanged glances.

  “I’m referring to the family business,” Kepler said finally.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “We know you’ve been contacted by LM.”

  My stomach lurched. For a moment I honestly thought I was going to vomit. “You’re—you’re working with LM? Who is he? What does he want?”

  “Don’t play games with us, Clark.”

  “I’m not playing games! I honestly have no idea what the fuck is going on!”

  “Did you comply with LM’s request?”

  “He didn’t really make a request,” I said, running through my conversation with the man in the bar. “He told me I would have to pay back my father’s debt. But he didn’t tell me how much money my father owed. I can’t pay if I don’t know how much is owed. Someone has to give me some real instructions, not just these vague emails that say six days.” I eyed the man who seemed to be the spokesman. “What is it you want from me?”

  “We think you know,” Kepler said. “We think your father told you before he died, and we think you’ve spent the last year—a year in which you could have been squaring your debt and moving on—pretending ignorance. We think you thought you could weasel your way out of the deal by acting like an innocent. But agreements don’t work that way. Not in our family.”

  Family. “What are you, the Mob?”

  “I don’t think there’s any need for such crude terminology,” Kepler negated smugly.

  “But you are, aren’t you?”

  “I think it’s fair to say that when someone wants to make a deal without the authorities being any the wiser, they know we’re the ones to come to.”

  “And the emails you’ve been sending me? The creepy phone calls? What’s all that about?”

  “I told you,” Kepler said. “We’re at the end of our rope with you. We won’t allow you to pretend any longer that you don’t know about your father’s business dealings. We won’t allow you to pretend you don’t know about the debts he left behind when he died.”

  “I don’t know anything! I never intended to take over this company, but my father left it to me when he died. I had no choice. He told me jack shit about any of this.” Furiously, I stomped closer to the conference table. “What do you want from me?”

  “To settle the debt.”

  “If it’s money you want, you’ll need to tell me how much,” I scoffed.

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Kepler said, although he looked miles away from laughter. “You know perfectly well you don’t owe us money, Clark. You owe us time.”

  “Time?”

  “When you blew off your meeting with LM on Monday, you invited us to raise the stakes. Do you understand that?”

  “What are you talking about?” My mind was bouncing all over the place. A part of me wanted to punch the man in the face to shut him up. The other part wanted to know more. “What meeting? Nobody told me about any meeting.”

  “You were sent a message,” Kepler said. “You chose not to respond.”

  “I didn’t get any message!”

  “You have one more chance,” the man warned me. “LM is willing to meet with you again Thursday afternoon. Same place as before. Four o’clock in the afternoon. I’d be there if I were you, Clark. If you decide not to show up, your family may not be as safe as you believe.”

  The men around the table pushed back their chairs and filed toward the door. I watched them go, feeling as if I’d stepped onto a movie set. Was this real life?

  How could my father have left me in this situation? I thought I’d known the man. The father I knew would never have put my child and me in danger.

  Had I really known him at all?

  Did Jenna really have to leave? Tess asked.

  I rested the spoon I was using to stir the pasta sauce on a paper towel so I could more easily sign back to her. She was ready to go and stay with her friend, I said. We knew she wasn’t going to stay here with us forever, right?

  I guess. Tess scowled, and I had to smile. Part of using sign language effectively was communicating your emotions via facial expressions, and it was definitely an aspect of the language that my daughter had no trouble with. I could always tell what she was thinking. But I wish she could have stayed. She was fun to have around.

  Yeah, I thought so too, I agreed. At least she was able to come join us for dinner tonight.

  Tess brightened a little and nodded.

  Why don’t you pick out a pasta shape, I suggested, and Tess went to the cupboard to sift among the boxes.

  I was intensely relieved that Jenna had decided to join us for dinner. I hadn’t been at all sure she would, especially after she’d bolted. Something about our experience at Bergdorf’s seemed to have really shaken her, because she’d started packing as soon as dropped her off at the condo. By the time I’d come home from work, her bags had been ready to go and she’d informed me that she would be staying at Sara’s house for a few days.

  It was a terrifying thing to come home to after being threatened by Kepler. I wanted nothing more than to keep her where I could see her, to know that those people wouldn’t be able to hurt her. For a moment, I even thought about telling her everything that was going on. But I didn’t want to scare her, and I couldn’t force her to stay. She was so clearly uncomfortable.

  Dinner tonight would be an opportunity to check in. It would reassure me to see her, to verify with my own eyes that she was alright.

  It did disturb me a little that Tess seemed to be getting so attached. That was the one thing I’d really wanted to avoid. I didn’t want to put her through all the drama of watching me date someone, worrying over whether that person would become a permanent fixture in our lives. I didn’t want her to develop a relationship with Jenna only for her to leave. That was a heartbreak my daughter didn’t need and shouldn’t have to go through.

  Tess re-emerged from the cupboard with a box in hand. R-o-t-i-n-i, she spelled.

  Do you know the sign for it? I didn’t.

  Tess shrugged. She thought for a moment, held up an R shape with her fingers, traced a quick spiral in the air, and finished by tapping her fingers against her lips. Spiral R food.

  I laughed. Okay, I agreed, and imitated her sign back to her.

  The lights overhead flashed, indicating a guest at the door. I hadn’t told her that while she was searching for the rotini that the doorman had called up to announce her arrival.

  Jenna! Tess turned, dropping the box of pasta on the floor, and sprinted for the front door. So much for not wanting them to get attached, I thought ruefully as I picked up the box. It was way too late for that.

  Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, right? There was no reason the two of them couldn’t be friends, assuming Jenna was willing to have a preteen for a friend. After all, Jenna had been the one to help Tess redesign her room. They’d spent time together while Jenna was staying here, time without me. They had a history and a bond that didn’t really involve me at all. I didn’t have to be romantically involved with Jenna for her to be a part of my daughter’s life. It would be good for Tess to have a woman she could talk to about ‘girl things’ if she needed to.

  Jenna walked into the kitchen wearing the Bergdorf jeans.

  “You sent these to Sara’s house,” she accused. “Didn’t you?”

  For a moment I couldn’t respond. I’d forgotten how great she looked in them. All I could do was stare.

  Tess tugged at my arm. Sign!

  “Oh,” I said, signing as I spoke. “Sorry. Sorry, honey. She asked if I bought her those jeans.”

  Did you?

  I couldn’t very well lie about it. “Yes.”
>
  Were they a birthday present?

  “They were a thank you present,” I explained. “To thank her for the good work she did on your room.”

  Oh, Tess said. Can I get new jeans?

  “Maybe you can get new jeans. For now, set the table please.”

  Tess rolled her eyes dramatically, a skill she’d developed over the past few months, and went into the kitchen to collect plates.

  “You did send me the jeans,” Jenna said. “Why?”

  I shrugged, trying to give the impression that it wasn’t a big deal. “You liked them,” I said. “You looked good in them, and we had to leave the store before you could buy them. I just thought you ought to have them.”

  “Well,” she said, running her hands along the seams of the pants. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You were right about them,” she said. “They are better made than any pair of jeans I’ve ever owned. I’m not sure it’s enough to justify that price tag, but...well, they’re good jeans. I’ll admit that.”

  “You look good in them.”

  She bit her lip, a smile on her face. “Thanks,” she said.

  There was an awkward silence. I got the sense that she was just as confused about how to act with me as I was about how to act with her. Should we acknowledge the romantic and sexual tension that had been present between us, or were we going to pretend we didn’t feel it?

  I cleared my throat. “How are things at your friend’s place?” I asked. “Are you settling in okay?”

  “Oh.” She looked relieved at the innocuous change of subject. “Yeah. It’s nice to have the time to spend with Sara, even if it is for a messed up reason. It’s kind of like having a long sleepover together like when we were younger.”

  “That does sound fun.”

  “Yeah. Sara’s always good for a laugh. When I showed up at her place, she immediately took me out to the bodega on the corner and we bought three bottles of wine and a bunch of different cheeses. We had a tasting last night.”