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“Don’t call me sweetheart!”
The words shot out of her mouth with such vehemence, both of them were startled by their passionate protest. Amy was shaken by how violently she recoiled from having joined an easily forgotten queue, and Jake’s good humour instantly lost its sparkle, his eyes narrowing, focusing intensely on her. His sudden stillness suggested he was harnessing all his energy to the task of perceiving the problem.
“I don’t use that endearment loosely, Amy,” he said quietly. “You are sweet to my heart. But if you don’t like it…”
“I have a name. I’m not one of your passing parade, Jake. I’m your P.A.,” she cried. “Just because I’ve committed the ultimate folly of going to bed with my boss, doesn’t turn me into a no-name woman.”
“You? Amy Taylor a no-name woman?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Never in a million years!” A golden star-burst of twinkles lit his eyes. “And you know we didn’t go to bed, Amy. You specifically said you weren’t going to bed with me and I respected that decision.”
Her insides were mush, churning with a million uncertainties, yet being hopelessly tugged by the sheer attraction of the man. Was she sweet to his heart? All she really knew was they’d done it, bed or no bed, and she was in a state of helpless confusion over what it meant or might mean to either of them.
Before she could think of any reply to him, he shook his head at her and offered a wry little smile as he made the pertinent comment, “Neither of us can blame ourselves for spontaneous combustion.”
This implied he hadn’t planned what happened, any more than she had. An accident of Fate? Or a convenient excuse?
“Was it?” she asked suspiciously.
“What?”
“Spontaneous combustion.”
“It felt like that to me.” His brow puckered for a thoughtful moment. “I remember I was swinging in with all the support I could think of for your out-of-my-life act, socking it home to your ex, then…yes, I’d definitely have to call it spontaneous combustion. Mind you, the chemistry was always there. No denying it.”
Amy had to accept the undeniable truth that she’d played with fire, tempted the devil, and the ensuing conflagration could not be entirely laid at Jake’s door. She sighed, letting go the craven wish to dissolve in the bath. There was no escaping what had to be faced.
“So what do we do now?” she asked, looking for some signal from him.
He grinned at her. “I suggest we have dinner. Both of us need re-fuelling.”
Pragmatic Jake. One appetite burnt out…might as well get on with feeding another.
Which could then re-ignite the first and…Amy clamped down on that thought. She had to get sex with Jake off her brain. More practical matters needed to be settled.
“Okay,” she agreed. “You dry yourself off first and I’ll follow.”
He eyed her quizzically. “You’re not going shy on me, are you, Amy?”
It triggered a nervous laugh. “A bit late for that. I just want the bathroom to myself while I tidy up.”
In truth, Amy didn’t want to risk tangling physically with Jake, with or without towels. She needed some clear space here to tidy up her responses to him.
“Fair enough,” he said and whooshed out of the bath, the massive displacement of water almost causing a tidal wave.
He was a big man. Stark naked, there was a lot of him, all of it impressive. Amy couldn’t help staring. In every male sense he was well proportioned, well muscled and most decisively well endowed. Very well indeed. Her vaginal muscles went into spasms of excitement just looking at him, remembering how he’d felt and what he’d done.
It was just as well she was still lying in the bath. Jake didn’t even have to apply the art of temptation in the nude. He was it. He turned to reach for a towel and his backside scored a perfect ten beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Amy was struck by a powerful insight. Lust was not a male prerogative. Lust could hit a woman like a runaway train. She was left wondering how on earth it could be stopped.
A more urgent question was…did she want it to be stopped?
CHAPTER TWELVE
DINNER was good. Jake didn’t press anything but food on her. He played the charming host, ready to serve her every whim, encouraging her to try everything he’d brought, pleased when she did, obviously resolved on giving her a breathing space and setting a relaxed mood.
Amy appreciated it. She appreciated the food, too. It seemed to stabilise her stomach and clear her head. Her confusion over the sexual element that had scrambled their relationship, gradually sorted itself out into various straight avenues of thought.
Of course, it helped that Jake was fully clothed again. And she felt…safer, protected…in the jeans and T-shirt she’d planned to wear before Steve’s fateful intrusion. Probably her choice of clothes had alerted Jake to her nervous tension and reservations about any further intimate involvement. He was never slow on picking up signals.
Nevertheless, there could be no avoiding a discussion on where they went from here. As they cleared the dishes from the table, transferring them to the kitchen counter, Amy decided it couldn’t be postponed any longer. She could only hope Jake would understand her position.
“Coffee on the balcony?” he suggested.
Her gaze zapped to the armchairs and coffee table he must have put outside while she’d been in the shower prior to Steve’s arrival. “You thought of that before,” she blurted out, flushing with embarrassment as she recollected precisely when she’d noticed their removal to the balcony.
He shrugged. “It seemed a pleasant way to finish off the evening.”
She looked him straight in the eye, something she’d had difficulty in doing throughout dinner. “You didn’t come here to jump me, did you, Jake?”
“No,” he answered unequivocally. His face softened into a warm, whimsical smile. “I do genuinely care about you. I didn’t want you to feel alone.”
Her heart turned over.
Maybe caring made the difference.
“Besides, jumping isn’t my style,” he went on. “I’m only interested in mutual desire.”
Desire…lust…he’d probably cared about all the others, too.
His eyes gleamed their dangerous wolf-yellow. “And it is very mutual, Amy. Don’t put other labels on it.”
Don’t put love on it…that was certain.
Mutual desire was not going to lead anywhere good and it was no use wishing it might. Heat raced into her cheeks again as she tried to explain her spontaneous combustion away.
“Jake…it was just a moment in time…because of Steve…and…”
“No.” He shook his head at her. “At least be honest, Amy. We’re not ships passing in the night. What happened has been building between us for a long time. A progression…”
“But we don’t have to choose it,” she cried, agitated by the way he was validating what had been madness on both their parts. “We work together, Jake. Please don’t make it impossible for us to keep on working together.”
He frowned as though he hadn’t taken that factor into consideration.
“I’ll make the coffee,” she said, scooting off to the kitchen, hoping to keep the counter between them for a while.
Clothes didn’t really help, not when he started radiating physical charm and reminding her of the desires they had indulged so…so wildly. If he reached out and touched her, she wasn’t sure she could resist touching back. She had the feeling an electric current would sizzle her brain and her body would proceed on its own merry way to meltdown.
To her intense relief, Jake wandered out to the balcony. She stacked the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher as the coffeemaker did its job. The activity covered her inner turmoil as she clung desperately to what was the only sensible resolution to this volatile situation.
It couldn’t go on. Couldn’t! Jake’s idea of a progression threw her into a panic. The sex had been good. Amazing. Incredibly marvellous. But it wouldn’t stay that way. Moods and feelings were rarely recaptured. Lust did peter out. She had the evidence of Jake’s many affairs to demonstrate how quickly it passed.
The article in the women’s magazine which still lay in the bottom drawer of her desk came sharply to mind. If she indulged herself in more physical pleasures with Jake Carter, she’d be looking for the exit signs, every minute of every day, not trusting their togetherness to last long. Then how awkward would it be when he started looking for a fresh experience? How destroying it would be!
No, it was wrong for her. It would mess her up even more than she was already messed up. No matter what he said or did, she couldn’t allow herself to be tempted. Now was the time to start building a hopeful future for herself, not plunge down a sidetrack to more misery.
The coffeemaker beeped. She filled two mugs, steeled herself for the stand she had to make, then set out to fight the man who was undoubtedly plotting a different scenario. Her hands shook so much the coffee slurped over. She put the mugs on the counter and walked slowly around it, clenching and unclenching her hands. Her chest was so tight, her heart felt as though it was banging against it, stifled for proper room. Nevertheless, she did manage to carry the mugs out and set them on the coffee table without further spillage.
Jake was leaning on the balcony railing, apparently taking in the night view. He didn’t turn even though he must have heard her. Having got rid of the mugs from her nervous hands, Amy fidgeted. Sitting down didn’t feel right. It was impossible to relax enough to make it look natural. Yet to join Jake at the railing in the semidarkness…
“Tell me what you want, Amy.”
The soft words caught at her heart, turning her doubts and fears into silly trivialities. Jake had moved on to the big picture. He was simply waiting for her to paint in how she saw it.
Without any further hesitation, she stepped over to the railing and took a deep breath of fresh sea air. The winking myriad of lights around the bay assured her of life going on in a normal fashion, despite the ups and downs everyone was subjected to from time to time. It was normality she needed now.
“I want to keep my job,” she said simply.
He didn’t move, not even to glance at her. She had the sense of him being darkly self-contained, waiting and listening, biding his time until he had what he needed to work with.
“There’s no question of your losing it,” he assured her.
“I want to feel comfortable in it. I need to feel secure in it,” she explained further. “It’s my anchor right now. If you take that away from me…”
“Why on earth would I?”
He sounded genuinely puzzled.
“You could make it too difficult for me to stay.”
“You think I’m going to chase you around the office?” he asked, the dry irony in his voice mocking such a notion. “It’s a fool’s game, mixing business with pleasure, Amy. Have I ever seemed that much of a fool to you?”
“No.”
“I respect you far too much to press unwanted attention on you anyway.”
“I’m sorry. I…maybe I’ve got this wrong,” she rushed out in an agony of embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to…”
“Oh, yes, I want to, Amy. I really would be a fool not to want to make love with you whenever I can. Outside of office hours.”
He spoke matter-of-factly yet Amy was left in no doubt he meant every word of it. One taste was not enough for him. He wanted more, and just the thought of him wanting more aroused all the sensitised places in her body that craved the same.
“But I’d hate you to feel…under duress,” he added, his voice dropping to a low rasp of distaste.
The choice was hers, he was saying, and she should have felt relieved, except she was so twisted up inside, her mind couldn’t dictate anything sensible.
“It has to be freely given,” he went on. “As it was tonight.” He half turned to her, a lopsided smile curving his mouth. “You did want me, you know. Not because of Steve. You wanted me.”
Amy was further shaken by the passion creeping through the quiet control he’d maintained. “Any woman would want you, Jake,” she blurted out.
“You’re not…any…woman.” He flashed her a scathing look. “For God’s sake, Amy! Do you think it’s like that every time I turn around?”
“How would I know?” she flared back at him, losing the sane control she’d tried so hard to hold on to. “You turn around so often…”
“Because once I know it’s not going to work I don’t string a woman along as a convenient backup while I cheat on the side, as your precious Steve did,” he shot at her.
Pain exploded through her. “Fine!” she fired back at him. “Just don’t expect me to give repeat performances until you decide it’s not working for you anymore. I’d rather choose my own exit, thank you very much.”
He straightened up, aggression emanating from him in such strong waves, Amy almost cringed against the railing. Pride stiffened her spine. She was not going to be intimidated. The memory of her mother being cowed by her father flashed into her mind. Jake had that kind of power but she would not give in to it. Never! She would stand up for what was right for her, no matter what the consequences.
Maybe he sensed her fierce challenge. Something wrought a change. The aggression faded. She felt him—the strength of his will—reaching out to her even before he raised a hand in a gesture of appeal.
“It could be something special for both of us, Amy,” he said in soft persuasion.
The fire in her died, leaving only the pain. “It was special. Please…leave it there,” she begged. “I don’t want to fight with you, Jake.”
He sighed and offered a wry smile. “I don’t want to fight with you, either. Nor do I want you to regret tonight.”
She had a hazy memory of Steve yelling, you’ll regret it, and everything within her rebelled against his meanminded prediction. Besides, he had never once given her so much intense pleasure, never once swept her into such an all-encompassing sensual world. That belonged to Jake and she would never forget it…surely a oncein-a-lifetime experience which had exploded from a unique set of circumstances.
“I’ll never regret it, Jake. It was something very special,” she reiterated, because it was the truth and it was only fair to admit it to him.
His smiled widened, caressing her with his remembered pleasure. “Then you’ll keep it as a good memory?”
He was giving in…letting go…
“Yes,” she cried in dizzy relief.
“Of course, if you ever want to build on the good memory, you will keep me in mind,” he pressed teasingly.
She laughed, the release of tension erupting through her so suddenly she couldn’t help but laugh. It was the old Jake back again, the one she was used to handling, and she loved him for giving him back to her.
“I couldn’t possibly consider anyone else,” she promised him.
“I can rest content with that,” he said, sealing the sense of security she’d asked him for. “And just remember, Amy, you’re not alone. You do have me to count on.”
Unaccountably after the laughter, tears swam into her eyes. “Thank you, Jake,” she managed huskily, overcome with a mixture of sweet feelings that were impossible to define.
“It’s okay,” he assured her, then stepped over, squeezed her shoulder in a comradely fashion, gently pushed her hair aside and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, Amy. Don’t you fret now. It’s back to work on Monday.”
She was swallowing too hard to say anything. He touched her cheek tenderly in a last salute, and she could only watch dumbly as he walked away from her. All the way to the door she felt the tug of him. Her body churned with need, screaming at her to call him back, take him into her bed, have him as long as she could. But she stayed still, breathlessly still, and listened to the door closing behind him.
“Goodnight,” she whispered.
It had been good.
Best that it stayed good.
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