An Irresistible Bachelor (10 page)

She was about to knock on the doorjamb to get his attention when he barked into the phone, “I don't give a damn what he said. He cooked the numbers, so I'm not doing the deal. Tell him he can find another sucker.”

She noticed that he had the receiver tight against his ear and his free hand was cranked in a fist.

This, she thought, was the real Jack Walker.

Abruptly, his body tilted forward, as if he was actually standing in front of the person he was yelling at. “Look, I've got a half a dozen other deals going right now, so I only have two more words to spare on this one. Fuck. Him.”

Callie jumped back as he slammed the phone down.

“God
damn
it.” He raked his hand through his hair and wheeled around, grabbing something off his desk.

The moment he saw her, he cleared his throat. “Callie.”

“Why don't I come back?”

“No.” He let the paper fall out of his hand, watching it land on the desk. “No.”

He put his hands on his hips and released a slow, deep breath. When he looked back up at her, the aggression was mostly gone.

“Let's go.”

As he walked past her, she gave him plenty of space.

 

Leading the way to the garage, Jack was struggling to control his anger. Thanks to the financial muscle he had, most people didn't screw with him, but desperation and money could make fools out of almost anyone. If he was going to stay on top of his game, he needed to remember that happy little fact and not be so surprised when someone tried to do a nasty on him.

But hell, he'd done his homework on that deal. He'd dedicated resources. He'd expended time and thought. To discover at the tenth hour that he'd been lied to was a real insult. It had happened before and it would happen again, but that didn't mean he had to like getting served bullshit. And if his reaction had been hotter than usual, it was because he was frustrated that he or one of his people hadn't caught the problem sooner.

He looked at Callie, who was apparently fascinated by the grounds. Her eyes were focused anywhere but on him, making him feel like some kind of thug.

“I'm sorry you walked in on that.”

He was rewarded with a quick glance. “I know you're a hard-core businessman and all, but it's hard to imagine what could be that upsetting.”

“You ever stand to lose a hundred and twenty-five million dollars?”

Her eyes widened. “Ah, no.”

“Well, that'll light a fire under you. Trust me.”

They got to the garage and he opened the door for her.

“What exactly do you do?” she asked, going up first.

He struggled to answer the question while watching her hips shift from side to side.

“I invest in privately held companies in return for an interest in them. The profit is made when they go public.”

“Is the Walker Fund a big deal? No offense, but finance isn't my field.”

“When properly leveraged, I can command over ten billion dollars.”

“Oh.” She paused at the head of the stairs as if trying to come to terms with the number. When she looked up, she exclaimed, “This is wonderful!”

He lost the remnants of his anger as she put her toolbox down and walked around. There were windows on every side of the open space and the peaked roof stretched the ceiling upward to a shallow point. He'd had a long wooden table set up and had brought up a few different chairs for her to choose from. There were also a couch and a couple of side tables.

Her footsteps made a clicking sound across the glossy floor as she explored and he watched her with a greed that worried him.

“This is going to be just perfect,” she said, looking outside. “Plenty of light.”

“I'm glad you like it. When I had this space winterized last year, I put in a bathroom with a shower, and there's also a stereo system hardwired into the walls.”

“This is all so surprising,” she said, running her hand absently across the table.

“What is?”

Her head jerked around as if she'd abruptly remembered she wasn't alone.

“Nothing.” She faced him, all business. “I have a list of the equipment I need. Some of it I have to get before I can do any work on the painting at all.”

“Fine. We can go to the MFA this morning.”

She nodded and pointed to a set of double doors. “What's through there?”

“Just a closet.” He walked over and opened it up. Inside were four Rubbermaid bins, and she seemed curious as she looked at them. “I believe the bottom two are stuffed with some needlepoint pillows my mother has no use for. The others are full of old family papers.”

“Really?” She went inside and lifted the lid off the top one. “Have they been cataloged?”

“Not that I know of.”

“They should be.”

“Do you want to do it?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you serious?”

“Of course. And I'd pay you for the work.”

She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I happen to like making order out of chaos, so this would be a nice diversion for me. Besides, I don't have a background in document preservation. All I could do is sift through the papers, put them in piles, and get them ready so someone who knew what they were doing could go through them.”

She got up on her tiptoes and leaned forward, putting her arms inside the box. He heard papers sliding against one another with a graceful sound and then a harsh noise when the container slipped. She started to fall forward.

Moving on instinct, Jack grabbed her around the waist from behind, pulling her back. His first thought was merely to keep her upright.

But as her body came up against him, his brain pretty much shut down.

As they made contact, he heard her gasp and felt like doing a little heavy breathing of his own. The fit of her against the cradle of his hips was seamless, and she must have been as struck by the sensation as he was because she didn't struggle as much as he didn't move.

He couldn't have counted the number of heartbeats that passed while they stood together.

Now would be a good time to let go of her, he told himself. All he needed to do was drop his hands and step back. Make some smooth comment about her throwing herself into her work.

Instead his fingers splayed over her waist, measuring the subtle undulations of her rib cage as well as the softness of her sides. He felt her body expand with breath. When she still didn't pull away, he leaned into her until his chest was against her back.

Don't do this, he thought. For Christ's sake, don't you dare do this.

But his body was taking over, drowning out sane thoughts and moral reasoning, replacing them with an insane need to take her. He couldn't think about the implications of what he was doing. He wanted her and that was all he knew.

Moving slowly, Jack brought his hand to the weight of her hair and he swept it aside to expose the skin of her neck. He bent down, bringing his lips close to her ear.

“Callie.”

“Let me go,” she whispered.

“Callie.” His voice was low, vibrating with what was happening between them while he apologized for what he was about to do. “I'm sorry.”

He pressed his lips against her skin.

Her breath left in a rush and he kissed her neck again, stroking her with his tongue. When her head fell back, he put his arms around her, his hands wide across her flat stomach.

As his lips came down once more, her head started moving back and forth as if she were struggling to argue. Seizing the moment, he turned her around. Her eyes were luminous with heat even as he got the sense that she was a hairsbreadth away from bolting.

Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he lowered his head and lightly put his lips against her cheek. Small kisses, designed to calm as well as arouse, brought him to her mouth. He hesitated.

At the core of him, he knew what he was about to do was very wrong.

You bastard, he thought, as he lowered his lips to hers.

Callie's mouth trembled under his as he softly kissed her, and the sigh that came out of her was all the permission he needed. He kissed her again. Stroking, cajoling, gently.

He knew damn well the restraint wasn't going to last. With every little kiss, his self-control was slipping away, transforming him from a rational human being into a fully aroused male with exactly what he wanted in his arms.

Her lips parted without warning and his tongue slipped between them. He groaned as he felt the warm, slick glide of hers and all he could think of was getting her skin next to his. Riding a surge of lust, he tightened his hold until her breasts pressed against his chest.

Holy Christ, he thought. Nothing in the dream had prepared him for what she actually felt like, and he thought of the sofa across the room. Had he closed the door downstairs before they'd gone up? The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted.

But then she pushed him away with a moan and stumbled out of the closet.

Jack cursed as cool air took the place of her warm body and reality came back with horrible clarity.

Before turning around, he took a deep breath and rearranged himself. He didn't think facing her with a rigid erection was going to make things easier for either one of them.

Man, he'd blown it.

She was pacing around the studio when he came out of the closet.

“I'm so damn sorry,” he said. “I don't know how that happened.”

Well, actually he remembered the whole thing from start to finish. What he should have said was that he didn't know
why
it happened. Getting used to monogamy with Blair had taken some time, but he'd never slipped up. Not once. He couldn't believe he'd just broken the commitment he'd made.

“I can't . . . ,” she started and stalled out. “This isn't going to work. I need to go home—” She pressed her palms to her cheeks. “God! I should never have let that happen. I'm—I don't even know you.”

Jack was struck with an absurd desire to recite his vital statistics. Height, weight, Social Security number, date of birth. Marital status.

He winced at that last one.

“It's my fault,” he said. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

He saw her eyeing the toolbox and then the stairs.

“Wait a minute. Let's not blow this out of proportion.” The last thing he wanted was for her to go. “Just because I kissed you doesn't mean you have to quit.”

“Quit? If I leave now, it is not quitting. You tried to take advantage of me.”

He frowned and spoke too quickly. “You weren't exactly fighting me back there.”

She let out a disgusted noise. “Thank you for pointing that out. That makes me feel
so
much better.”

Jack cursed to himself, thinking he should be more of a gentleman. “I'm sorry. I'm not exactly thinking clearly right now.”

Hell, he was lucky he could string a sentence together. Sexual frustration was making his temper short. Worse, in spite of everything that was wrong about them being together, all he wanted to do was get her back in his arms. Naked.

He had to shut his eyes as another wave of hunger pounded through him.

Maybe he should just let her go. Show her the door. Get her out of his life.

Because things like that kiss didn't happen by accident. He'd been wondering what she'd feel like in his arms for real since that moment on her stoop back in Chelsea. And it was a damn tragedy that what had just happened between them had more than lived up to his expectations.

“Should I expect you to try and kiss me again?” she asked.

He opened his eyes and wished like hell he could give her the ironclad answer she was looking for. But at the moment, he wasn't feeling particularly trustworthy.

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I'm in a relationship. I'm engaged to someone—”

“You're
engaged
?” she said incredulously. “Oh, my God.”

Her hands were back on her cheeks and she looked for a moment as if she might be sick because now she was eyeing the bathroom, not the stairs, with desperation.

“Listen, I'm not in the habit of cheating once I make a commitment.”

“Oh, really,” she tossed back. “So all those stories about your love life were made up?”

“I said once I
commit.
”

“Well, you certainly don't do that very often, do you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. He couldn't blame her for looking at him with disdain, and meeting her narrowed eyes wasn't easy.

“Tell me, Jack, what exactly are you going to tell your
fiancée
about this?”

God, he had no idea.

“I'm not sure.”

“Probably nothing, right? Which is precisely how all those women ended up fighting over you like they did. No doubt they all thought you were their one and only.”

“You shouldn't believe everything you read.”

“If I cut out a quarter of what I've read about you, there'd still be plenty to go on. Like the time one of your girlfriends chased a half-naked actress through the Waldorf Astoria lobby? And what had that lovely Cameron Diaz wannabe been wearing? A feather boa across her breasts and a pair of your boxer shorts, isn't that right?” Callie put her hands on her hips. “That was a personal favorite of mine. Featured in
People
as well as the
New York Post.
”

He swore out loud, long and hard. “That was
years
ago. And she was wearing my pants if I remember correctly.”

At the time, he'd found the incident hilarious. After the great chase had begun, he'd sat back in his suite and waited until either his pants came back or the woman he'd been dating for six weeks did. Now, in retrospect, and especially in front of Callie, the theatrics seemed immature.