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Authors: Michelle Celmer

Much More Than a Mistress (9 page)

BOOK: Much More Than a Mistress
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“Sorry. I'm supposed to be kissing you, not copping a feel.”

“It's not that. Your leg is buzzing. It just startled me.”

“It's my phone.” He pulled it out of his pants pocket and
set it on the counter. “I have it on vibrate but it's rung four times since I've been here.”

“Maybe you should answer it. It could be important.”

“Being here with you is important too.”

How was it that he always managed to say exactly the right thing? And as much as she wanted to keep kissing him, it was probably better that they take a break.

She stepped back, out of his reach. “You should at least look and see who it is.”

He sighed and grabbed the phone from the counter, frowning as he thumbed through his recent calls. “There are three calls from Nathan, and two from Memorial Hospital.”

“Call your brother, Jordan.”

This time he didn't argue.

He dialed his phone and his brother must have answered on the first ring. “Why am I getting calls from Memorial Hospital?” Jordan asked him.

He listened for a minute, and she could tell by his deepening frown that something was wrong. Calls from hospitals were rarely ever favorable.

“But she's only fifty-four,” he said. “Isn't she too young for that?” He listened for another minute, then said, “We can talk about it when I get there. I'm leaving right now.”

He hung up his phone looking confused and a bit shell-shocked. “My mother had a stroke.”

She gasped softly. “Is she okay?”

“They're not sure the extent of it yet, but they said she's not in any imminent danger. They have to run more tests.”

Jane's maternal grandfather died from a massive stroke, so she knew from experience that it could be much worse. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I have the feeling this is going to be a long night, so I
probably won't be at work tomorrow. You'll have to hold down the fort.”

“I can do that.”

“I hate to bail on you, but I have to get to the hospital.”

She touched his arm. “Of course. You should be with your family.”

She followed him to the door where he put on his suit jacket, then his coat. “I'll call you tomorrow.”

“If there's anything you need, just say the word.”

“How about dinner Friday night?”

“I have dinner with my family Friday. But I'm free Saturday.”

“You pick the place,” he said, then he leaned down and kissed her, a soft brush of his lips that left her weak all over. “I'll see you later.”

When he was gone, she closed the door, leaned against it and sighed. Oh, man, she was in trouble. If his phone hadn't rung, she could just imagine what they would be doing right now. And it would have nothing to do with drinking coffee and eating cake.

She wasn't supposed to like Jordan, but she did. Way too much for her own good. At least she was smart enough to realize that it wouldn't last. She was just a passing phase. She had to keep that in mind when he was kissing her, and touching her.

She couldn't deny that she was attracted to him, and being around him was a bit of a thrill, but it wouldn't last. If she wanted to come through this with her career intact, she needed to keep her perspective.

Next time they were alone, she wouldn't be giving in quite so easily.

Nine

J
ordan didn't appreciate the severity of his mother's condition until he walked into her hospital room twenty minutes later. For some reason he expected her to be sitting up, her usual primped self, demanding and difficult and making a general nuisance of herself. He figured it was some sort of volley for attention. To see her lying in bed, pale and weak and hooked to a maze of tubes and wires was a shock. And though he had never seen her so much as flinch in the face of adversity, she was scared.

Nathan sat in a chair across the room. He stood when Jordan came in.

“Hey, Mom,” Jordan said, walking to her bedside and taking her hand. She squeezed his weakly. “How are you feeling?”

She blinked rapidly and patted her throat.

“She can't talk,” Nathan said.

He was about to ask why, but a nurse walked in.

“Time to change your IV, Ms. Everette,” she said cheerfully.

Nathan nodded his head toward the door. Jordan tried to let go of his mother's hand to follow him, but she tightened her grip, looking panicked.

“Mom, I need to talk to Nathan for a minute. I promise I'll be right back.”

She reluctantly let go of his hand. He followed his brother out into the hall. “She looks bad, Nathan.”

“I know. But the doctor assured me that she's stable.”

“Why can't she talk?”

“They think the stroke affected the speech center of her brain. She also has some weakness on her left side.”

“But it's not permanent.”

“He said that with physical therapy the weakness will improve, but she'll probably never be able to talk normally, even with speech therapy.”

For a woman so hung up on appearances, that was going to be difficult for her to accept. “How did this happen? Isn't she too young?”

“Apparently not. The doctor did say that it would have been a lot worse if she'd waited any longer to come in.”

“How did she get here?”

“A gentleman friend. I guess she called him and she wasn't making any sense. He suspected something was wrong and called 911.”

Jordan's heart bottomed out. He leaned against the wall beside the door, shaking his head at the depth of his stupidity. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“She called me too. She was slurring her words and asking about things we already talked about. I thought she was drunk. I should have realized something was really wrong.”

“Jordan, there's no way you could have known. Like you said, she's not that old. A stroke was the last thing we would have expected. If she had called me I probably would have assumed the same thing.”

But she hadn't. She'd called him. She'd needed his help and he had completely failed her. If she hadn't called her “man friend” who knows how much worse off she could be? She could have
died.

“I should have at least gone and checked on her,” he said.

“You know that if it were one of us with a problem, she probably wouldn't even be bothered to show up at the hospital.”

That didn't make him feel any less guilty. If he had realized there was a problem and called 911 immediately, maybe the damage would have been less severe.

When they walked back into the room she was waiting anxiously. After that, any time he and Nathan even got close to the door she would get a panicked look, but when she tried to speak, the words came out garbled and slurred.

She drifted in and out of sleep all night while the brothers took turns sitting at her bedside. Nathan had called their father as a courtesy, even though he and their mother hadn't spoken a civilized word in years, so both Nathan and Jordan were shocked when he came to visit Wednesday afternoon. Even more shocking was that she looked happy to see him.

It gave Jordan and his brother a chance to sneak off to the cafeteria to grab a cup of coffee and a bite to eat.

“She's not going to be able to stay by herself for at least a couple of weeks,” Nathan said. “Maybe even longer. We'll have to hire a full-time nurse. And both speech and physical therapists.”

“Or she could stay with you,” Jordan said, grinning at the look his brother shot him.

“I would never do that to Ana. Although, the fact that she can't talk will make her a lot less annoying.”

“That's a horrible thing to say,” Jordan said, but he was trying not to smile.

“It's pretty ironic, don't you think? She couldn't be bothered to be there for us, but we're expected to take care of her.”

“She's really scared. I've never seen her like this. It's hard not to feel sorry for her.”

“I give her a month before she's back to her demanding and manipulative old self.”

Jordan wasn't so sure about that. Maybe this would be a wake-up call for her. A chance to become a decent mother—a decent human being—before it was too late. Or maybe he was just fooling himself.

“I sure was surprised when Dad showed up,” Nathan said. “Or maybe it isn't such a surprise, all things considered.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he still loves her.”

“Still? I didn't know he ever did. I thought they had to get married because she was pregnant.”

“I thought so too, but Dad says no. He told me, and I quote, ‘He loved her more than life itself, and all she wanted from him was his name and as much of his money as she could get her greedy hands on.'”

“I guess that explains why he was always so unhappy.”

“He told me that he was bitter and heartbroken and instead of taking it out on the person who deserved it, he took it out on us. The same way Grandma Everette took it out on him.”

Jordan laughed. “Get out. Frail little Grandma Everette used to knock Dad around?”

“That's what he said. And she probably wasn't so frail back then.”

Damn. It was tough to imagine their father letting anyone push him around. And Jordan had just assumed that their parents hated each other. He never understood why they had stayed together for twenty years. Maybe their father had held on to the hope that she would grow to love him. Clearly that had never happened.

When they finished their lunch and got back to their mother's room their dad was still there. He was sitting on the edge of the bed holding her hand. As far as Jordan could recall it was the first time he'd ever seen them touch.

He just hoped she wasn't afraid and clinging to the past. He hoped she wasn't using their father, and as soon as she was well would cast him aside yet again. He hoped, but given her behavior since…well, as long as Jordan could recall, the odds weren't very good.

 

Though she felt more than a little devious for taking advantage of the situation, Jordan's absence had given Jane unlimited access to his office for two days. She had to keep reminding herself that it was her job, and really, she was doing him a favor. If she wasn't able to prove he was guilty, that could only mean that he was innocent. His career would be safe, and he would be none the wiser.

That was what she hoped anyway.

She searched through his files but there was nothing incriminating, so, using the jump drive, she downloaded his emails—which weren't password protected—and spend most of the afternoon at her computer reading them. She also uploaded a spyware program that would make it
possible for the tech guys at Edwin Associates to monitor any future emails.

Most of his current emails were of a professional nature, and the handful that were personal had nothing to do with the sabotage, nor were they the least bit suspicious. What she needed to see were his personal financial files, but he obviously didn't keep those at work, meaning she needed to get on to his personal computer at home. When she reported her findings, or lack thereof, to her superiors, they reached the same conclusion. She was to continue to monitor his phone calls and take the steps necessary to infiltrate his home. She also wanted to get a look at his incoming and outgoing calls on his cell phone. Until there were grounds for a warrant, they couldn't get a hold of the call records from his provider.

Her bosses seemed pleased, and maybe a little surprised, to learn that Mr. Everette was actually pursuing her, and if they were concerned about her crossing any lines, they didn't mention it. If it meant getting the information they needed, maybe they would forgive a few minor transgressions. The question was, could she? Could she sell herself out that way?

Between the investigation and her regular duties, Jane was swamped, so she stayed late Thursday to keep on top of things. She didn't get home until after ten. She grabbed her mail on her way into the building and rifled through it as she walked up the stairs to the second floor—her Visa bill, a few pieces of junk and something that looked like a wedding invitation. Curious, she started to rip it open as she walked down the hall to her apartment.

“I was beginning to think you weren't coming home,” someone said. She squeaked with surprise, stumbling to a stop and dropping the mail.

Jordan grinned up at her from where he sat on the floor outside her apartment door. “Late night at work?”

Her heart lifted at the sight of him, then took a sharp dive. “Did something happen? Is your mom okay?”

“She's fine,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet. He was dressed in black slacks and a black leather jacket. “In fact, they're cutting her loose tomorrow.”

She crouched down to collect her mail. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, looking physically and emotionally drained. “All I know is, I was on my way home from the hospital to get some sleep, and somehow I ended up here. I guess I just wanted to see you.”

She didn't even know what to say. Of all the people he could have gone to, he chose her?

“I know I shouldn't keep dropping in on you unannounced.”

“No, it's okay.” She walked past him to unlock the door.

“I can leave if it's a bad time.”

She pushed the door open and switched on the light. “It's not a bad time. Come in.”

He walked inside, and she stepped in behind him, closing and locking the door. She turned to tell him to take off his jacket, but before she could get the words out his arms were around her, pulling her close, hugging her fiercely. She dropped her purse and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him just as hard.

He buried his face against the side of her neck, his breath warm on her skin. “You cannot even imagine how long and stressful the past two days have been.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Right now, I think I'd just like to hold you.”

That was okay too.

Since it was what he seemed to need, she held him close,
rubbing his back, until she could feel the tension begin to leak out of him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him, knowing that he even had one, changed her perception of him somehow. Yes, he was rich and powerful and gorgeous, but underneath it all, he was just a man. An extraordinary one, unquestionably, but nothing to feel threatened or intimidated by. In fact, it was a kind of a turn-on.

“Have I ever told you how good you smell?” he asked.

Something in his voice, in the way he nuzzled her neck, made her heart beat a little faster.

He lifted his head and pressed his forehead to hers, eyelids heavy as he looked down at her. “Okay, I lied.”

“About what?”

“I want to kiss you. I've been thinking about it almost constantly for the past two days.”

The thrill she felt knowing he wanted her seemed to cancel out any shred of her common sense. “So, kiss me.”

She didn't have to tell him twice. And, oh, could he kiss. If she never kissed another man as long as she lived, she would go to her grave knowing she could never find anyone who did it better. And something told her that this time it wouldn't end there.

She didn't want it to.

He let go of her to take his jacket off, then he pushed her coat off her shoulders to the floor. When he started to unfasten the buttons on her jacket, she knew in the back of her mind there was a reason this was wrong, why she should tell him to stop, but for the life of her she couldn't remember why. She didn't
want
to remember.

He pulled her jacket open but he didn't take it off. Instead he gazed down at her, tracing a finger along her skin just above the silk shell she was wearing. “You are so beautiful, Jane.”

He made her
feel
beautiful. As if she deserved this.

He dipped his finger below the shell to caress the uppermost swell of her breasts. First the left, then the right, and her breath started coming faster.

“If you're going to tell me to stop, do it now,” he said, his voice rough. “Because I'm about two minutes from taking you into your bedroom and making love to you.”

She fisted his shirt and tugged it from the waist of his pants. “It's the second door on the right.”

With a look that could melt snow, he scooped her off her feet and carried her—actually
carried
her—down the hall to her bedroom. A little voice asked her what the heck she thought she was doing. She wasn't actually going to sleep with him, was she? Because that was against the rules. But for the first time in her entire life she didn't care about the rules. She wanted to do something totally illogical and completely spontaneous. She didn't care if it was bad for her, as long as it felt good.

Jordan set her on her feet beside the bed and she kicked off her shoes. “We need light,” he said.

She switched the lamp on, hoping, as she tugged her jacket off, then pulled her top over her head, he wasn't disappointed by what he saw. Did she look as good as he made her feel?

“Don't stop there,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt as he watched her. “Keep going.”

She had never done a striptease for anyone, but he filled her with a confidence she'd never felt before. And maybe it was wrong, but she would do just about anything right now to make him happy.

BOOK: Much More Than a Mistress
13.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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