Kitabı oku: «Secret Admirer», sayfa 3
Chapter 4
How could she have been so stupid? What had she done?
Jane stood in front of the glass doors of Fortune TX and slapped her forehead with her open hand. Harper wanted to be director of market research. He didn’t want her. His little seduction routine was just his own perverse version of a game of hardball!
Last week he’d impressed Andrea, Jane’s supervisor, and all their bosses in that meeting when he’d demonstrated how the company could best use the Internet to defend brand assets. He’d been creative. She couldn’t let herself ever forget that he’d do anything to win. Anything.
Harper was part of the good-old-boy network. That was one of the reasons he was so successful. He didn’t work as hard as she did because he didn’t have to. He schmoozed. He drove a jazzed-up car to impress people. He was into image rather than substance.
He would probably tell every man at the water-cooler first thing how easy and hot for him she was. He’d get a few laughs, and the male executives would start snickering behind her back. They might even ask her out to get more of the same. If any of them even winked at her, she’d never be able to face anybody again.
Fool that she was, she still felt turned on by the darkly handsome jerk with the talented mouth and hands. She’d even liked the way he’d touched her breasts.
The sun was getting hotter, or was it just thinking about him that made her feel the heat? There was nothing for it but to go inside and face the music.
When she reached her floor, Jane still felt hot and wet and trembly as she skittered past the receptionists, mumbling her hellos so fast neither woman could start a real conversation. Not that they didn’t try.
“You look great,” Stephanie said.
“Different,” Melanie agreed. “What’s with the looser hairstyle and those top buttons undone? New look?”
“New man,” Stephanie whispered.
“Gotta go,” Jane said, not meeting their eyes. She couldn’t even manage a smile in her mad desire to escape to her own office where she could close her door, be alone and try to regroup.
“Have you seen that cute green dress in the shop downstairs? It’d be perfect for the new you,” Melanie said.
“There is no new me,” Jane muttered, horrified that she felt faintly tempted to take a look at the dress.
Even before she got to her office and saw the huge bouquet of daisies, roses, irises and lilies, she didn’t have an inkling about how to proceed with her day. She hated teasing or sexual innuendo, even talks about sex and boyfriends between women. She hated sex on television. Love scenes in books made her skim pages until she got past them. That’s why Matt’s sexy pictures of her had undone her.
Just why sex scared her so deeply was a mystery. Maybe her mother had been too open and flamboyant. Maybe it had to do with the whole town laughing because she’d been born in the pool hall. To Jane, sex was not something to be viewed through keyholes or to be flaunted the way Matt had flaunted those pictures of her.
Jane was at her file cabinet, with her back to the huge vase of lilies and roses and daisies on her desk, when Stephanie popped her head inside the door.
“We’re all dying to know. What’s the special occasion?”
Jane turned and gasped when she saw the flowers Stephanie was looking at. Moving toward them, Jane said, “Oh, I didn’t realize you followed me.”
“Couldn’t resist.”
“I guess…It’s my birthday,” Jane mumbled.
“Looks like somebody remembered big-time. Who?”
“I—I haven’t a clue. My mom maybe.”
“So, read the card.”
With trembling fingers Jane plucked the small envelope from the flowers. Leaning over them, she couldn’t help but inhale their sweet fragrance. “Mmmmmmmm.”
Oh my, she did love flowers.
“Name withheld upon request,” she read aloud. Then she flipped the card over. “That’s all.”
When she looked up, Stephanie was still hovering expectantly. “Well?”
“I’m sure you’ve got work to do,” Jane said hastily.
Ducking her head, Stephanie scurried away.
Jane set her briefcase down and began to search for her folder with the information on the fund-raiser. She needed to get approval from her boss, Andrea, for the booth at the baseball game Wednesday night.
But the fund-raiser folder wasn’t there.
“Damn.”
Frowning, she was shaking the contents of her briefcase out onto her desk when Matt ambled into her office. A mischievous smile lit his dark face, and his hands were behind his back.
“Hi,” he said in a low tone.
She glanced down at the contents of her briefcase, hoping he’d go, but he stayed, lounging in the doorway, his long legs planted widely apart.
“You’re the last man on earth I really want to see,” she said.
“At least I’m in a class by myself.”
Something electric in his deep voice made her look up.
His smile widened, and she felt herself soften. She was mush when she sank in a heap into her chair. How could he do this to her with just a smile? He looked male and arrogant and yet charmingly boyish all at the same time and friendlier than a puppy wagging his tail too fast. He appeared to genuinely like her.
He’s not to be trusted.
“Aren’t you thirsty? Shouldn’t you be hanging out at the watercooler or something?” she snapped. “Saying impressive things about that car.”
“Later.” He smiled again. “Flowers.” He strode closer and put his dark, handsome face into the blossoms and inhaled deeply. “Mmmmmmmmmm. Secret admirer?”
For no reason at all she thought of Ol’ Bill’s anonymous letter in the Gazette.
I know we belong together and I’m sorry I haven’t told you what’s in my heart.
“You tell me,” she whispered, teasing him, in spite of herself.
Oh, why couldn’t she stop looking at his lips? Or his sparkling green eyes? His eyes were wooing her, sucking her into their depths again, stealing her soul, so she cast her gaze down quickly.
“Read the card,” he said softly.
“Been there. Done that. He didn’t sign his name.”
Matt was so close she could smell his tangy after-shave. For a long delicious moment she even forgot to breathe.
“So you think it’s a man?”
The intimacy in his gorgeous eyes made her shiver.
“Any guesses as to who?” he persisted.
The warm flush running through her body was terrifyingly pleasurable. He was leading her, teasing her. Why?
Suddenly a lightbulb went on in her brain.
Had he sent them? Just like he’d written that letter? Was he as shy about intimacy as she was about sex? Was it possible he was afraid to tell her? Was it possible that he couldn’t put himself out like that, not when she’d rejected him for so many years? What if he really felt bad about those wet T-shirt pictures? If so, the whole thing, the letter, the flowers, was sweet in a way.
Don’t be a fool. He’s the enemy. He’s after your job.
“Are you here to take credit for the flowers?” she whispered, challenging him.
“I’ll take any credit I can get,” he said smoothly. “Lord knows where you’re concerned I damn sure need it.”
“You’re not afraid,” she said shyly.
“Why the hell should I be?”
“What does the card say then?” she asked, testing him.
“Ah, a test.”
She stared at him in shock, realizing that she was enjoying this exchange way too much.
“Love, Matt.” He blushed when he said it. He actually blushed. His quick smile was unpretentious and sweet.
She felt her own face growing hot beneath his steady gaze. “P-please—don’t tease me about this.” With fingers that trembled, she placed the card in his. “You know what you wrote…and it wasn’t Love, Matt.”
“Name withheld upon request,” he read aloud in his deep baritone, watching her. “This guy is good. As good as me.”
“I wonder why?” Those green eyes of his were still on her. She felt him reading her mind, her heart. Strangely she didn’t mind as much as she usually did. “If you really sent them, write the words you didn’t say,” she said, stealing the sentiment from his anonymous love letter in the Gazette.
He took the card and laid it on her desk. With a flourish of black ink, he wrote, “Love, Matt,” and then placed the card in her palm. “There. Satisfied?”
Their fingertips touched and again she sizzled.
At her gasp when she pulled her hand free, he gave her another startled look. “Happy Birthday then, darlin’.”
“It’s been quite a birthday,” she said. “Full of surprises.”
“For me, too. It’s not even 9:00 a.m. yet. Your smiles are getting friendlier. Does this mean you’ll go to the Spring Fling with me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Don’t say no yet. I’ll forgive you for high school if you’ll forgive me.”
“What?”
“After your father talked to the superintendent, I got expelled, remember?”
“It’s just too sudden,” she said.
“Okay,” he murmured. “I guess we’d both better get to work. Happy birthday, beautiful.”
“I’m not beautiful. My sister, Mindy, is beautiful. Your Carol is beautiful.”
“You’ve always been way too hard on yourself.”
“I can’t believe you know that about me.”
“I pay attention—when I’m interested. And you are beautiful,” he repeated. “Furthermore, just to set the record straight, she’s not my Carol anymore. In fact, she never was. We went out a few times. People in Red Rock thought it meant more than it did.”
“Carol thought so, too.”
“So you’re tuned into the twenty-four-hour grapevine.”
“Isn’t everybody?”
“I’m a free man, darlin’, unless some pretty lady takes pity on me and decides to love and reform me.”
“You could definitely use some reforming.”
“I’d prefer the lovin’ part, but more on that later.” He was grinning as he strode out of her office, pulling the door shut behind him.
Alone with his sweet-smelling flowers, she plucked a daisy out of the bunch, went to the window and twirled it against her nose. She was so wrapped up in her conflicting thoughts and feelings about Matt that she had no idea how long she’d stood there when voices outside in the hall snapped her out of her reverie. Quickly she jabbed the daisy back into the vase and went back to her desk to search for the fund-raiser folder.
Much to her surprise, it lay on her desk on top of the clutter she’d shaken out of her briefcase.
Crossing her arms, she shook her head in confusion. Then she opened the file to make sure all the papers were inside it, and even though they were, she felt vague little prickles of alarm.
She could have sworn it hadn’t been there before Matthew Harper had come in to see her.
The River Walk was idyllic. The brown serpentine river sparkled, and sunlight shone through the cypress trees. Jane and Mindy were sitting in a shady spot under a red-and-white umbrella beside the water. There were enough tourists on the old limestone walkways so that Jane and Mindy had people to watch, but their riverside French restaurant wasn’t too crowded. Not like a happening Saturday night when all the restaurants, shops and clubs were jammed.
“I hate to cut this short, but I really do have to get back to the office,” Jane said. “I have an important presentation.”
“First we have to light your candles on your chocolate birthday cake so you can make a wish.”
For a birthday that had started off all wrong and had been filled with unsettling surprises, Jane couldn’t remember when she’d had more fun. Why was that? she wondered.
As Mindy struck a match to light her candles, Jane closed her eyes.
“Think of something you truly truly want, and your wish will come true,” Mindy said softly.
Jane tried to concentrate on the position of director of market research but drew a blank. Instead she conjured a broad-shouldered hunky giant with a sculpted mouth and black-lashed, green eyes, who was wearing a red tie with even hotter pink flamingos flapping all over it.
She squeezed her eyes tighter and tried to focus on the job she wanted. Matt’s image was as stubborn as the man himself and refused to budge.
“Are you thinking of something you really want yet?” Mindy quizzed hopefully.
“No!” she snapped and mentally stuck out her tongue at the vision of Matt.
“Mind if I sit down?” murmured a deep, familiar baritone.
Her eyes flew open, and there he was—as if she’d truly conjured him. Mom would love this.
“I certainly do mind. I was trying to make a wish before my candles go out.”
He sat down anyway and closed his eyes. A look of fiendish bliss transformed his dark, rugged features. His eyes opened. He leaned forward and blew out her candles.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I made a wish for you on your birthday.” He began plucking candles out of the cake and licking chocolate icing off their bottoms.
“You can’t do that.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a done deal, darlin’.” He licked another candle. “Besides, you were blocked and I was feeling creative. When are you going to realize we’re a team?”
“No, we’re not.”
“We could be—if you’d let it happen.”
“What did you wish for?” she asked him, to change the subject.
“I can’t say, or it won’t come true.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t make my wish.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Mindy said, watching them both far too intently.
“How did you find us?” Jane asked. “No—don’t tell me. Mother?”
He grinned. “She called me again.”
“What if I don’t want your wish to come true?”
“Then it won’t.” He signaled the waiter and ordered a piece of cake just like hers.
The cake was thick rich chocolate and sinfully delicious. Being a cook, she was wondering about the exact ingredients as she ate it, while he simply savored his. He began taking a bite of his cake every time she took a nibble from hers. He watched her, and she watched him. Soon she forgot all about cooking. When she ran her tongue across her upper lip, he did the same. There was a rhythm to it. The river flowed by, tourists laughed and chattered, and the chocolate melted on her tongue just as his ripe kisses had.
“Dark, oozy chocolate’s my favorite flavor,” he said.
“Mine too,” she whispered.
“At least there’s something we enjoy together.” He moved his face nearer hers so that he could whisper. “Besides kissing.”
When she felt his warm breath against her cheek, she jumped away from him. Still, it had been a long time since she’d enjoyed anything more than eating chocolate cake while staring into his sparkling green eyes.
“You’re dangerous,” she said, patting her mouth with her napkin.
“I certainly hope so,” he replied.
Chapter 5
“Mother—please!”
The fragrance of Matt’s flowers were cloyingly sweet. Jane wished she could ignore them. If only she had windows she could open.
If only her mother hadn’t called.
“Mother, I can’t deal with this!” Jane closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I’ve got a meeting with my boss in two minutes, so listen to me! Please, quit calling him!”
“If she offers you the job, refuse it. Tell her Matt would be better.”
“This kind of help I don’t need.”
“A smart woman is smart enough to let her man win—at least until she’s got him hooked.”
“Do you ever read anything that’s been written this century? Your ideas are medieval.”
“No, your generation is impossible. There aren’t going to be any grandbabies. We’re going to be extinct.”
“Mother!”
“But the cards explicitly recommended—”
“Mother!”
“I really do see him in your future!”
“Mother!” Each Mother was louder than the last.
“Stop shouting. It’s not good for me, you know.”
Her mother took a breath. Jane glanced at her watch.
“Okay. All right. But, Jane, if you were half as smart as you think you are, you’d wear those contact lenses I bought you and play more. But go ahead and keep messing up your own life. Just don’t come crying to me when he gets himself snapped up by some floozy, and you realize you’re in love with him when it’s too late.”
“What?”
“You’ve been in love with him for years.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I remember the way you trailed around after him on the playground, always pestering him until he pulled your ponytail or something. Remember the time you sat on his cowboy hat?”
“What I remember is having to leave home and go to a private, big city high school because he humiliated me. I didn’t get to graduate with my friends.”
“Lighten up. Not in this lifetime will I forget that kiss last Christmas. You could barely stand.”
“He probably spiked the punch.”
“Nobody else was reeling. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to your mother. Do you need me to pick you up this afternoon or not?”
“No,” she replied wearily, glad her mother had finally changed the subject. “Mindy said she’d do it.”
“You could get off your stubborn high horse and ride home with him in that dream machine.”
“He nearly killed me in it this morning.”
“Helen Geary’s version is way different than yours.”
When they hung up, Jane got up and ran, shaking, down the hall to Andrea’s office.
Jane had left her report and fund-raiser material with Andrea earlier, but now she didn’t feel up to the meeting. She felt like yelling and tearing her hair. Talking to her mother frequently did that to her. When she finally reached Andrea’s door, she took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then she counted to ten again before knocking.
“Come in,” Andrea called from inside.
When Jane opened the door, Andrea, who was tall, black-haired and slim, rose to greet her. The woman looked stunning in a navy suit with gold at her throat.
“I can’t wait to talk to you,” she said. “I have some very exciting news.”
Jane’s heart was already thumping madly as she sank into the chair opposite Andrea’s desk and crossed her long legs.
“You’re doing a wonderful job. Management loves your ideas.”
Jane nodded. Then she bit her lips, hoping against hope that she’d been chosen as director of market research. At least then she could quit worrying about Matt’s motives.
Andrea lifted a folder from her desk. When Jane recognized her own handwriting on the manila cover, she began to tremble.
“Your ideas for the fund-raiser are fabulous.”
“The fund-raiser?”
“They’re both passionate and personal. I want to hear more about your plans for the bake-sale auction Wednesday at the game.”
“I have some friends who are cooking for free, to raise money for the event. And then—”
The door behind them opened.
“Sorry I’m late,” Matt said as he strode inside and sat down beside Jane.
Andrea picked up another folder with lots of messy inky-black swirls and leafed through it. “I hope you don’t mind taking on a partner in your fund-raiser project this late.”
“I—prefer—”
“A very talented partner,” Andrea said quickly, glancing at Harper. “Matt approached me on this…this morning.”
“Oh, really?”
He was smiling with boyish mischief. Only, the charming smile that could make her heart do flips caused a very different reaction under these circumstances. If he’d been wearing his favorite Stetson, she would have snatched it and sat on it.
“I don’t need a partner.” Jane’s voice was calm, but she knotted her hands in her lap so she wouldn’t be tempted to lean forward and pound Andrea’s desk, or better, his head.
“His ideas for the fund-raiser are almost exactly like yours.”
“How absolutely amazing,” Jane said, smiling tightly as she remembered her folder that had gone missing.
“You and he both live in the same town. I’ve decided to put you on the same committee to raise this money. Matt says he’s totally free the night before and the night of the fund-raiser.”
Why am I not surprised?
“So, he’ll be helping you Wednesday night.”
Suddenly the temperature in the room plummeted to sub-zero.
“Nice view,” Matt said far too pleasantly.
“Isn’t it?” Andrea shot him her most dazzling smile, and Jane remembered what her mother had said about some floozy nailing him. Andrea wasn’t exactly the kind of woman her mother had warned her about, but maybe good ol’ Mom had a slight, annoying point. Not that it mattered. Jane didn’t want him. She wanted to kick him or flatten one of his fancy tires. Or maybe strangle him with his loud tie.
It was all she could do to keep her face blank. Somehow she forced a smile, but she couldn’t quite control her eyes. No doubt, they were shooting sparks.
Not that Andrea, who was beaming at Matt, seemed to notice. Not that Jane blamed her boss for smiling at the handsome rat. Despite the chill in the room, the man radiated sex appeal.
“This is great,” Andrea said. “The two of you on top of this—together.”
“Teammates,” Matt supplied silkily, winking at Jane. “Hey, I don’t know if now’s the time, but I’ve come up with several new ideas. What about a chicken flying contest and maybe some armadillo races?”
Jane began to cough.
“Why, that’s brilliant,” Andrea said. “The male viewpoint is so refreshingly original. This is so…so Texas. Don’t you agree, Jane?”
Jane swallowed. “My thoughts exactly,” she said, clasping her knotted hands even more tightly because she itched to strangle them both.
Chicken flying contests—my you know what!
Jane’s reaction to being blindsided and put on the spot while in Andrea’s office was predictable. What she did about it wasn’t. Normally she would have kept her cool and worked behind closed doors to resolve the problem. Today she stormed down the hall, threw open the door to Matt’s office and went inside without even knocking.
He was at his desk, on the phone.
Making a date with some floozy, no doubt. At the thought she saw green.
His playful, sparkling green eyes rose to hers innocently when she hurled herself inside his office. Instantly he said a polite goodbye in his low, husky voice, and was off the phone before Jane could blink. He got up and shut the door.
Carefully she stepped across papers, reports, corporate manuals and stacks of files.
“Your office is a mess!”
“I’m phobic about file cabinets,” he said.
“You should be ashamed.”
He grinned. “Something from my dysfunctional childhood. Haven’t told the shrink about it yet.”
She didn’t laugh as she removed several files from a chair and slapped them on his desk before sitting down.
“Coffee?” he offered as he sank into his leather chair on the other side of his massive desk, which was also overflowing with clutter.
She shook her head so hard several pins flew out of her hair toward him. “This won’t take long.”
Smiling amiably, he picked up a pin and began to play with it.
She cleared her throat. “You stole my folder on the fund-raiser out of my briefcase.”
“Wrong. You left it. I returned it.”
“And you stole my ideas!”
“I think our working together could be fun.”
“You have absolutely no interest in the children’s after-school day-care education fund.”
“Maybe I want to become…passionate about the same things you are.”
“All you want is to be director of market research.”
“Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black to me, darlin’?”
“I’ve worked hard for everything I’ve ever gotten. But you…you just get by on your contacts, money, your fancy car, good looks and good-old-boy network. Schmoozing around the ol’ watercooler. Telling dirty jokes.”
“Last time I looked, Andrea isn’t a good old boy. She seems to think highly of me.”
“Because she’s got a crush on you.”
“If she does, is that my fault?”
“You’re using it.”
“Relax. Spending more time together on this project could be fun…if you’d let it be.”
“This is my career. I work hard. All you do is joke.”
“I appreciate all you do. I admire you. That’s why I’m so interested in getting to know you better,” he insisted.
“Sorry, I don’t trust your motives. And if you dare joke about me or what happened in your car this morning to your watercooler pals…If they start coming on to me…” She choked at the awful thought and was unable to go on. His handsome face blurred. Oh, God, in another second she would be crying.
She got up to run, but he was faster. He grabbed her and pushed her up against the wall. She twisted her face away from his.
His grip eased. “Hey, I don’t want to hurt you.” His deep voice was soft. So soft, her knees went weak. “And I damn sure don’t want other men coming on to you.”
Very gently he cupped her chin and forced her to look at him just as she felt a single mortifying tear slide down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her fist and took a deep breath and glared at him.
A muscle tightened in his jawline. Then he drew a deep breath of his own, and he swallowed.
“Let me go,” she said.
“All right. But it’s not going to be that easy.”
When his hands fell away, she opened the door and ran. The day got worse. During her PowerPoint presentation about corporate branding, the computer she was using went down. When she couldn’t get it to work, she grew flustered. Naturally, Matt seized the day. After he jimmied a couple of wires, the computer hummed to life. By the time she was able to start over, she felt shy and unsure because she was running out of time. She talked too fast, lost her focus and forgot to make her most important points. If only Matt hadn’t been there, leaning forward, listening to her every word as if he was spellbound. The jerk even complimented her speech and asked several intelligent questions that made her look great afterward.
Then it was his turn. A natural when it came to sports or performances of any kind, he got up and blew everybody away with his smooth presentation. He stared at her the whole time, smiling after every point he made. When everybody clapped and congratulated him, Jane sat in her corner and chewed moodily on her pencil until the lead snapped and she tossed it down.
When their colleagues filed out of the conference room, Matt came over to her. No doubt to gloat because he was sure she’d lost and he’d landed the director of market research position.
“You didn’t say anything. Well?”
“Well what?”
“What’d you think of my presentation?”
She jabbed her pencil into the knot of hair at her nape. “You’ve been a natural-born ham ever since elementary school.”
“Surely you don’t still hold my clumsy efforts in the school talent shows against me.”
“You blew everybody away even back then, and you know it.”
“Even you?” he asked.
She felt her face heat. She was sure she was blushing, which was even better for his ego than actually telling him he’d been terrific.
“Did anybody ever tell you, you’re way too conceited, Harper?”
“Just you.”
She got up and began gathering her books and reports noisily.
“Darlin’, are you going to hate me forever?”
“I—I don’t hate you.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
“Just leave me alone. Okay?”
“What if it’s not okay?”
“Don’t be too sure you’ve got the promotion, Harper. Not until it’s announced.”
When she walked toward the door, he stepped in front of her. “Is that all you care about? This morning I thought that maybe…” When he swallowed, she thought he looked human, too human; hurt even, and it bothered her. A lot.
She swallowed, too. “Don’t think about this morning. And don’t brag to anybody about that kiss either.”
“Kisses. Plural. And I think we need a repeat.”
“Don’t even think about it, Harper.”
He grabbed her. “What if I can’t stop thinking about it, darlin’, any more than you can?”
Slowly he removed her glasses. When his mouth touched hers, she melted into his big body. Then it was all over but the kissing—long passionate, drowning kisses, which didn’t stop until she was wet and feverish, and he was shaking violently.
When he finally let her come up for air, her legs were wobbly, and she was reeling. Somehow she managed to say in a chilly tone, “This has got to stop, Harper.”
“You could have fooled me.”
He calmly picked up her glasses and handed them to her.
She shoved them onto the bridge of her nose. Then she grabbed her purse and briefcase and walked toward the door. She didn’t look back.
She didn’t dare look back.
