Of course, there was no way he was leaving. Not now.
He pulled open the fridge. A gallon of milk, a carton of orange juice, and a bottle of white Zinfandel were the only beverages. He pulled out the wine just as something hit him in the back. Turning, he caught a breath-stealing glance of a furious Annabelle as she stomped away. A pillow lay on the floor by his feet.
For a brief second, he considered following her but decided against it. She needed a little time to calm down.
He set the wine bottle on the table, scrounged up glasses from a cabinet, and waited. A minute later, she stomped back, dressed in green army fatigues and a tight Penn State T-shirt that’d seen better days. The faded pink cotton lovingly outlined every single one of her abundant curves.
And given how his cock stirred, you’d think he was a teenager the way his body responded around her.
Thankfully, he’d sat at the dining room table and his erection was hidden.
Watching her approach, he saw her emotions plainly on her face, defeat clear in her eyes.
Annabelle dropped into the seat across from him, her mouth set, but her eyes suspiciously wet. He poured her a glass of wine, topped his own, and then said, “Tell me.”
Without speaking, she reached for the glass and took a healthy swallow. She looked ready to tell him to go to hell.
He braced for a fight, then released his tightly held breath when she started to talk.
“Carmen Moran was here to interview me for a position as a freelance appraiser. I am damn good at what I do and Carmen’s firm is the most respected in the field. I wanted that job, Jared.”
Surprisingly, he heard no condemnation directed toward him in her voice. Only self-recrimination.
No way would he let her feel bad about the attraction that registered off the charts between them. He might not believe in true love or soul mates or anything so prosaic. Pleasure as intense as what they’d experienced wasn’t something you just tossed away.
“Are you in financial trouble?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m in no danger of losing the shop. Yes, business has taken a hit in the past few years but I’m not struggling.”
“So you don’t really need the job?”
Sucking in her bottom lip, she just stared at him, as if she didn’t want to say anymore.
Okay, fine. With a smile, he picked up his glass and walked into the living room.
“I’d love to see your home. Why don’t you show me around?”
“No.”
“Gee, Annabelle, is that any way to treat a guest?”
“You’re not a guest.”
“You wound me.” His eye caught on a grouping of paintings in the hallway that probably led to the bedrooms and he headed over to look at them. “But don’t worry, I heal fast.”
“Jared, stop.”
He did, but only when he reached the hall.
“Holy shit.”
He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the painting.
She had another O’Malley.
He moved down the hall, his heart starting to pound for no good reason.
She had two. The smaller painting wasn’t signed but he’d bet his reputation that was an O’Malley, too. One he’d never seen. One he’d never heard mentioned or catalogued.
“Jared!” Annabelle grabbed his arm and pulled him back in the direction of the kitchen. Away from the paintings. “I want you to leave. Now.”
Annabelle’s heart threatened to pound out of her chest as Jared stared at her father’s paintings in the hall.
She could explain being in possession of another O’Malley. She’d told him she had a few. But Jared was smart and he knew O’Malley’s work.
She’d have a damn hard time explaining the unsigned portrait of her mother if he realized what it was. And he would. She knew he’d be able to tell it was one of her dad’s just by looking it. Everything about it screamed O’Malley, from the color of the paint he used for her mom’s hair to the blue settee she lay on.
She needed him to leave now. Before he looked at her and began to ask questions. Questions she couldn’t answer without risking everything she’d built here.
He didn’t put up a fight as she practically dragged him to the door that led to the stairs on the outside of the building.
Maybe she should have realized he was making it too easy on her. But all she wanted to do after that interview with Carmen was sit in her room and devour a pint of Turkey Hill rocky road ice cream.
Flinging open the door, she shoved him through. “Keep the pin. Just don’t come back.”
She went to slam the door in his face but he put one hand on the door before she could. With the other, he snagged the waistband of her sweats and pulled her closer.
Those blue, blue eyes stared into hers with an intensity she couldn’t break.
“I’ll be back to take you to dinner at seven,” he said. “Make reservations wherever you want but be sure you’re here when I get back. You don’t want me to come looking for you.”
Opening her mouth to tell him in no uncertain terms there was no way in hell she would ever go out with him, Annabelle gasped when his mouth covered hers for a kiss that took her breath away.
Hard, forceful, and utterly wicked, his mouth moved over hers with a possession she should have fought.
But didn’t.
Shocked, she let him kiss her until her body began to respond. Her nipples peaked and hardened, her sex moistened, and she had to force her arms to stay straight at her sides, otherwise she would have wrapped them around his shoulders.
Then he released her.
She stared up at him, her lips parted as she drew in much-needed air. She felt the weight of the pin in her pocket where he’d slipped it.
He looked cocky as ever, his grin lopsided. “And wear the pin. It looks good on you.”
Stepping out of Annabelle’s building, Jared walked across Main Street so he could take a look at the entire building.
Built from square-cut stone blocks, the two-story structure looked like a box, but its clean lines, large windows, and oak-plank door spoke of another time. A cornerstone on the front proclaimed the year 1829. Good, strong bones. Like many of the other buildings in the town.
Mayberry couldn’t hold a candle to Adamstown. He looked first left then right up Main Street. He didn’t see a car coming either way. Way too quiet for a born-and-bred Philadelphia boy.
The town probably rolled up its sidewalks by nine o’clock. Shaking his head, he started walking east on Main. He’d driven in from the west and hadn’t seen much more than houses. The rest of Main Street, all ten blocks of it, contained two small factories—Goods Potato Chips and the Bollman Hat Factory. Each looked like they’d been entrenched for years.
Annabelle’s was the only antiques store on Main and not visible from Route 272, which bypassed the town. Most of the antique stores that were this area’s claim to fame sat along that road. She did have a sign on the main highway, but it wasn’t large. He wondered what kind of advertising she did to keep the business going.
Or maybe she didn’t need to. Maybe…
Maybe he was crazy for thinking what he was thinking.
He knew Peter and Catrina O’Malley and their lover, Danton Romero, had been killed by an unstable woman with a fixation on Danton. He knew Peter and Catrina had left behind a daughter who’d been in her teens at the time.
And he knew that Annabelle Elder owned three O’Malley paintings, one not even known to exist.
Bypassing his car parked along the street, Jared decided to take a walk. Clear his head.
He’d love to add those paintings to his collection. He wanted them almost as much as he wanted her.
Other than Annabelle’s shop, the town boasted two churches—beautiful brick buildings with stained-glass windows—a VFW, a beauty salon, a tailor, a café, and less than a hundred private residences. Not two blocks from Annabelle’s was a small inn.
The Horse-and-Carria
ge Inn had Victorian gingerbread trim and about four different paint colors. In the summer, the grounds and building would be shaded by mature trees. The gardener had an eye for landscaping and there was enough winter interest in the surrounding gardens to avoid appearing barren.
Not what he was used to but it certainly ranked above the motel he’d seen on the drive in.
He headed back to his car for his cell phone to make a reservation.
And give Dane another call.
“Annabelle! Annabelle, are you here? Do you know who I just saw walking down the sidewalk?”
Kate’s voice rang out from the shop, forcing Annabelle out of the stupor she’d fallen into. “Up here,” she called.
In seconds, Kate bounded up the stairs, her eyes wide and shock plainly written on her face. “You are never going to believe—”
“Jared’s in town. I know. Wine?”
Kate froze, then sank into the chair Jared had occupied not that long ago. “Did you know he was coming? What’s he doing here?”
Annabelle poured herself another glass. “No, I didn’t know he was coming but he had impeccable timing. Showed up just in time to screw up my interview with Carmen Moran.”
Kate’s eyes widened even further. “Oh, jeez, I completely forget about that. How’d it go?”
Annabelle just shook her head.
“Oh, wow.” Kate grimaced. “What happened?”
After another healthy swallow of wine, she spilled the whole sordid story, cringing as she thought about what she must have looked like, just fucked and probably smelling like sex.
“I’m screwed,” she muttered. “You know that, right? Carmen Moran will never talk to me again.”
“Please.” Kate rolled her eyes. “Who cares what that old biddy thinks, anyway? You’re doing just fine on your own. What are you going to do about Jared?”
Annabelle frowned at her best friend. “Are you kidding? I’m not doing anything about him. There’s no way I’m going to dinner with him.” She shook her head. “Jesus, Kate. He saw the paintings in the hall. What if he figures out who I am?”
Kate waved that comment off. “Why would he even think that some random antiques dealer might be the daughter of a famous painter because she has a few paintings by the guy? You’re a collector.”
“Because he’s smart as hell. He’s going to realize the portrait of my mom is something he’s never seen mentioned. Not ever. He’s going to want to know where I got it.” Annabelle wanted to tear out her hair. “Hell, he’s going to want to buy it and I’m going to have to tell him no. Jesus, everything’s messed up. The man is a complete menace. I can’t believe I fell for his act. Again.”
“Alright, Annabelle.” Kate’s voice had the same tone she took with naughty children and dirty old men. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got to snap out of this. This is not the end of the world. He’s not going to figure it out.”
“God, I wish I could believe that.”
“Okay, so what if he found out? Would that be the end of the world?”
Icy fear coated her veins as she remembered back to just after her parents’ murders. “I couldn’t go through that again. The gossip, everyone talking about them like they were deviants. It was hell the first time.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Kate reached across the table to grab her hand. “I can’t imagine how awful that was. But Jared is not a tabloid reporter.”
“No, he might be worse. He’s a collector.”
Kate’s eyes rolled again. “How is that worse?”
Because what if he figures it out and only wants me because of who I am?
Annabelle didn’t say that aloud. She barely wanted to think it. Because like it or not, she had feelings for the man.
“Annabelle? When is Jared coming back?”
“Seven. But there’s no way I’m going out with him. How can you even suggest that? After everything that’s happened?”
Kate’s expression softened. “Are you really saying you don’t want to see him again? And tell the truth.”
Of course I want to see him again.
She bit back her immediate response, shaking her head. God damn it, it just wasn’t fair.
The truth was her heart beat a little faster and her panties got wet each time she thought about him. And she’d been thinking about him a lot.
So not fair.
Sighing, she threw her hands in the air. “Of course I want to see him again. The man makes me hot. But everything’s already so messed up. When I’m with him, I don’t think straight. And that’s not good. He’s a playboy. I don’t want a man like that.”
“So what do you want?”
She opened her mouth to answer and closed it just as fast because she didn’t have a quick answer. “I don’t want a guy at all.”
“Right.” Kate smirked. “If you weren’t looking for a man, why did we go to a party so you could meet one?”
“That was just sex.”
Kate was getting pretty good at that eye roll, Annabelle noticed.
“So what’s stopping you from having ‘just sex’ with Jared while he’s here? It’s not like the man offered to marry you. And it’s not like you want him to. But why not take what pleasure you can while you can?”
Logically, she knew that. Emotionally…Hell, emotionally, she was a mess. She wanted him. She didn’t want to want him. She was angry with him. She was so damn happy to see him. She never wanted to see him again.
When she didn’t say anything, Kate huffed. “You never did tell me why he was here in the first place. Did he come to apologize? What?”
“His grandmother insisted he return the pin. But I can’t take it. It…” She shook her head.
“Reminds you of Jared?” Kate prompted.
“Yes, and I don’t ne—want any reminders of him.”
“But you want him?”
Of course I do. “No, it’s a recipe for disaster.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Just be sure you set the rules. The man wants you bad. He could have just given you the pin and left again but he couldn’t resist you.”
Kate made it sound so simple. And so easy. Still, the more she thought about it, the more she wanted him. Even with the risks…
“Don’t think so hard, Annabelle. The man wants you. You want him. Just make him suffer before you let him rip off your clothes.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I want him to crawl on the floor and beg me for it.”
Kate’s smile would have made a grown man run for his mother. “Then let’s see what you’re going to wear tonight.”
“What do you mean, you’re not coming back right away? What the hell are you up to, Jed?”
“I’m not up to anything. I’ve just decided to stay a few more days. Miss me already, big brother?”
Tyler’s derisive snort came through the cell clearly. “Yeah, right. I know you. There’s no way you just decided to take a few days away from Philadelphia to spend it in some one-stoplight town.”
“I’m not sure there’s even one stoplight in town, as a matter of fact.”
“All the more reason for you to come running home. What are you really doing? I assume you talked to Annabelle.”
“Yes, I talked to Annabelle.”
“And?”
And we had mind-blowing sex and I have this crazy idea that she might be the long-lost daughter of a famous dead painter. “I gave her the pin.”
“So you’ve done your duty.”
“We’re going to dinner tonight.”
Tyler paused so long, Jared wondered if they’d lost the connection. “Why?”
“Why what?”
Tyler’s sigh sounded loud and clear through the phone line. “Don’t be an ass. Why are you taking her to dinner?”
Because I want to see her again. “I’ve decided to offer her a business proposition.”
“What kind of a proposition? Christ, Jed, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I think this area could be
perfect for the spa we’ve been talking about.”
The one Jared had been thinking about for the past few months. The hotel had been only the first step in their plans. Now that it was running smoothly, Jared needed something else to keep him occupied. The woman and the spa would do for now.
“And you decided that…when? In the space of a few hours?”
“Yes. Look, we can talk about it when I get home. I’m going to check out some land, maybe meet with a few Realtors while I’m here. It may not pan out but my nose is twitching, Ty.”
“I bet that’s not all that’s twitching.” His brother released another sigh and Jared knew Ty was pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did when he was frustrated with him. “Just keep in touch. And…if you run into Kate, tell her I said hello.”
Jared grinned at his brother’s attempted nonchalance. “You sure you don’t want to come up here and help me look at property?”
“Yeah, fuck you, little brother. Just don’t get too cozy up there or you’ll find yourself out of a job.”
“You can’t fire me, bro. Fifty-fifty partnership, remember? I’ll tell Kate you said hi.”
“The man won’t know what hit him.”
Annabelle glanced at the clock—six forty-five—then back into the mirror. “You don’t think it’s too much for dinner? I made reservations at The Boxcar.”
Kate shook her head, her mouth curved in a satisfied smile. “No way. It’s perfect.”
Actually, Annabelle had to agree. She looked great in the straight wool skirt covered with bold geometric shapes of blue, rust, and green, and a deceptively simple V-neck sweater in the same green. The sweater showed just enough cleavage and she’d attached Jared’s grandmother’s pin to the V, drawing attention to the swells of her breasts. Not too dressy, not too revealing, yet clingy in all the right places. Luckily, she’d found the skirt stuffed in the very back of her armoire and, even luckier still, it fit and matched the turtleneck.
Paired with brown suede stiletto boots and a wide brown belt, her hair curling around her shoulders, she looked so very…feminine.
“And you don’t think this is a huge disaster just waiting to happen?”
Kate’s hands planted on her waist. “I think you’d be foolish if you don’t go. And if we’re going to have this conversation again, I’m going to go downstairs and smash your netsuke collection in a frustrated rage.”
By Private Invitation Page 11
