by Nadia Lee
Her words robbed him of air, and he swallowed a small gasp as his heart pounded with something that felt awfully like a bitter old hope. “What if they can’t?” he said hoarsely.
Her flat gaze locked with his. “Then they’ll end up like their parents—or worse.”
* * *
Mark drove back to La Mer. He’d forgotten about the dinner he had scheduled with Gavin and his wife Amandine until Larry the Maître d’ had called. As he sped down the road, Mark couldn’t stop thinking about what Josephine had said. They’ll end up like their parents—or worse.
Was he somehow becoming like his father, going after one woman after another in a string of seemingly carefree relationships that were actually killing him little by little?
Everyone thought Salazar had the greatest life. He’d been born handsome, charming and wealthy, he’d married one of the most beautiful women of his generation, and—best of all—his wife didn’t seem to care about his mistresses.
And yet, hadn’t he lost something in all that?
Mark thought about how his mother had changed. When he was young she had laughed every day, spent a lot of time with the family… She’d arranged for fun vacations and other family gatherings.
But now…
The Fourth of the July party was a huge aberration. The most the family ever managed was the annual Christmas party, if either of his parents felt like delegating the task to one of their assistants. The oldest of the children, Dane, didn’t even pretend to want to come. He generally found a reason not to be available—usually work. Apparently even though the western world didn’t work on Christmas, Asia did, so he’d spend his Christmas there doing one of his deals.
But that wasn’t all. Mark knew his father had been forced to let go of the one great love of his life because he couldn’t change his ways. And it wasn’t just the woman he’d missed. He’d fathered a son with her, but hadn’t been aware of that fact until recently because he hadn’t been able to do what he needed to do to keep her. So he’d missed that son’s entire childhood.
That didn’t feel like a great life.
At La Mer, Gavin and his wife Amandine were already seated. The lovebirds sat closely, chatting in low voices. Amandine laughed softly at something Gavin said and touched the tip of his nose with hers. The sight made Mark happy—he was glad they’d been able to work out their marital issues. But a small pang of envy twisted in his heart at the same time. He wanted it too—this kind of bliss and openness. The problem was he didn’t know how to get it, and it shamed him that he felt something as ugly as envy for his friend and his wife.
“Hey,” Mark said. “Sorry I’m late.”
Amandine straightened up. “No problem. We just got here ourselves. You look good, Mark.” She gave him a friendly smile. She was one of the sweetest women he knew, and even if he’d been an hour late, she still would’ve said, “We just got here.”
“Where have you been? Larry said you were gone more or less all afternoon.”
“Oh. I stopped by your firm earlier, but Sally said you were in a meeting. Then I went to Josephine’s place to see if Hilary needed anything.”
“And that took you all afternoon?” Gavin raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a long list of things she needs.”
Mark knew the comment was intended as a jibe, but it still annoyed him. What did his best friend know about what Hilary needed? She was the one who catered to him all the time, not the other way around. “You’re just real sure, huh? Have you called or checked up on Hilary at all?”
“Well, no, but I’m sure—”
“You know what? She did tell me what she wanted,” Mark said. “And you’re right, it wasn’t a long list, but at the top was an assistant who could help her.”
“Really?” Gavin said, and Amandine’s face fell.
“Oh shoot,” she said. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve known.”
“It’s got nothing to do with you, love,” Gavin said, but she shook her head.
“No, it does. I hate having an assistant around, so I’ve sort of gone without since Brooke quit. But I’m sure that just means Hilary now has more on her plate.”
“She hasn’t complained about it being too much for her.”
“You can be so obtuse. Just because she doesn’t complain doesn’t mean you can make her do a two-person job by herself. She’s not a robot.”
A frown creased Gavin’s forehead. “You’re right. I should’ve thought about that.”
“I’ll hire an assistant ASAP,” Amandine promised. “I’m glad you brought it up, Mark. I’m sure Hilary wouldn’t have. She seems to thrive on mountains of work, but that doesn’t mean it’s good for her.”
Amandine was wrong. Hilary didn’t thrive when her to-do list was bursting with tasks. She just worked even harder so that she wouldn’t disappoint her boss.
Then it hit Mark. She was trying to be everything to Gavin, so he’d never fire her, no matter what. But why would she do that? She could probably do better—the same money for better hours and less stress—by going elsewhere.
“So what’s going on between the two of you?” Gavin sipped his white. “You sent her flowers and chocolates every day, went to the charity event together…then you suddenly stopped, and now you were at her place for hours. What gives?”
“We’re dating.”
“Seriously?”
“You think I do those things with just any woman?”
“Well…yeah.” Mark gave him a sour look, and Gavin spread his hands. “Hey, what can I say? But honestly, Hilary? She’s not your type, and you don’t do relationships.”
Mark ground his teeth. At the rate things were going, he was going to be down to his gums soon. “She totally is my type, and I do do relationships.”
“Three months here and there doesn’t count. Besides, if anything goes wrong during the next quarter, you’re on your own. I’m not taking sides on this one.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy,” Mark snapped. “My own fuc”—he bit the word off in deference to Amandine—“best friend thinks I’m going to fail.”
Gavin’s eyebrows rose, his eyes round and unblinking. “Totally wrong. I think you’re going to lose interest.”
Mark was about to fire off another sharp retort when Amandine smiled and laid a hand on Gavin’s arm. “Please excuse him. Of course you can do relationships. You just haven’t met the right woman yet. Your time will come. Or maybe it already has with Hilary.”
Her soothing voice and words deflated Mark’s irritation. Technically it wasn’t fair for him to be angry at Gavin. He was right not to take sides in the situation. He’d often said Hilary was worth her weight in gold, and he wouldn’t want to lose her if Mark fumbled the ball.
But it hurt and annoyed him that people expected him to screw up.
Chapter Fifteen
Hilary wanted to return to the office on Monday, but Gavin had texted her to take both Monday and Tuesday off. After four full days of rest she felt fine. Not surprising—she’d never taken so much time off to do nothing except sleep and then sleep some more. Then there was the pampering. Jo had been too busy, but Mark was coming by every day and spending hours with her, heating up whatever his chef had decided to make for them and watching movies. They’d started out with horror flicks—his choice, not hers. When she’d laughed at the scary scenes instead of jumping into his arms, he stopped the movie and said, “Okay, never mind. What are you in the mood for?”
She didn’t have to think. “The Sound of Music! It’s my favorite.”
He flung an arm over his eyes. “Agh! You’re killing me. I can’t stand that movie.”
“Really? Why?”
“Don’t you know? Men hate musicals.”
“That’s not true.”
“Okay, all hetero men. But, okay. Your wish is my command.”
As they watched, Mark even sang a few of the songs with her. For a man who claimed to hate musicals, he had a decent voi
ce. Then they sat through Mary Poppins. Finally he brought out the Julie Andrews version of Cinderella, which Hilary hadn’t seen yet.
“We can watch something else,” she suggested, feeling guilty. She would’ve been pretty annoyed if she’d had to endure hours of zombie movies. “Maybe something with lots of mindless violence and car chases?”
“Nope. We’re watching Cinderella. It’s your sick day,” he’d said with a small grin, hitting play.
She rested her head in the crook of his neck and watched the musical, feeling like she was Cinderella. She couldn’t remember the last time somebody had shown this much hands-on interest in her wellbeing. She was supposed to be able to stand on her own and take care of herself.
* * *
Hilary pulled her hair back into a tight bun and put on her usual conservative work clothes. Her complexion was still on the pale side, but it was nothing a little makeup couldn’t fix.
The doorbell rang, and Mark came in. “I told you to lock the door,” he called out.
“Josephine just left, and I’m about to head out as well,” she said.
“Where?” he said, poking his head into her room. “Are you going to work?”
“Yes.”
“It’s the third of July.”
“So?”
“Nobody’s going to be there.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you and Gavin are best friends?”
“We’re close enough, and I know things you’d never guess.” He scowled. “And I know you even better. You’re going in even though you aren’t feeling a hundred percent.”
“I took four days off, Mark. That was more than enough time to recuperate.”
“I don’t think so. I think you need to take the rest of the week off.”
“The rest of the week?!”
“Yeah. It’s already Wednesday. Tomorrow’s the fourth, and nobody’s working on Friday.”
“That’s ridiculous. Everyone at OWM is going to work…well…except maybe the janitors.”
“And most of the admins,” Mark added.
“But I need to go in. Gavin will be there.”
“You know Gavin’s taking four days off, right?”
She gaped at him. “He is?” Then she remembered. He had actually mentioned something about that a few months back.
“His family’s coming for the Fourth of July party at his place, and he’s gotta play host,” Mark said. “And you don’t have to do anything for Amandine either. She’s looking for a new assistant and already has a temp, She’ll probably get somebody permanent soon.”
Hilary filed that information away. She knew why Amandine had a hard time hiring people. The woman didn’t want somebody hovering over her all the time. Her best friend had filled the slot for a while, and that had been okay, but now she was gone to pursue a new career.
But Kim would be a good fit. She was the right age and excellent at her job. She’d know how to make Amandine feel comfortable.
“So as you can plainly see,” Mark continued, “taking the rest of the week off is the most logical thing to do.”
“But—”
“No buts. Just a yes will be fine.” Mark brushed the back of his index finger along her cheek. The contact made her face tingle with heat. “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”
Hilary’s insides melted at the simple declaration. When people wanted her to take time off, it was generally so they could benefit from it. Bebe had often wanted her to skip school so they could hang out with boys or go smoke pot in some empty lot. Her mother and aunt and Tim had asked when they wanted her to run errands—do the grocery shopping or have the power turned back on because they’d forgotten to pay the bill and were too tired and hung over to talk to the utility company. Until Mark, nobody had insisted she played hookey just to take care of herself. “You know, I don’t know if I like this you.”
“What about it?”
“You’re bossy.”
He laughed. “Me? Bossy? Never. If I were bossy, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. And you wouldn’t have been telling me to go home because I’d get whatever you have.”
“Oh really? What would have happened instead?”
A wicked gleam entered his eyes. “For one, we would’ve C & R’d.” He put his arms around her and pulled her down on her bed. She landed with a gasp, then laughed.
“Okay. I can deal with that. And then what?”
“Then I’d’ve kissed you back to health.”
She looked up at him. “What is this? Some kind of fairytale?”
“Yup. It’s called Ailing Beauty. It’s kind of obscure, though…not too many people know about it. It took me a long time to discover it myself.”
“Care to share this incredibly obscure tale?”
“Well… Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, sexy and terribly overworked princess.”
She swallowed a giggle.
“Her bossy king made her work so much that one day she fainted despite her best efforts not to. Instead of nursing her back to health, the king sent her to her room to recover on her own.”
“Wow. What a terrible king,” she joked.
“I know. Anyway, don’t interrupt. You’re going to miss the good part.”
“All right. Go on.”
“A humble and handsome prince passing by saw this untenable situation and volunteered to watch over her. Many people protested, including the princess. Nursing was a woman’s job, they said. But the prince wasn’t going to allow some ridiculous stereotype to get in the way. He knew this princess needed him even if she didn’t know it herself.”
“Of course.” Was she getting breathless? She’d asked him to tell her to humor him, but this was sweeter than expected. Butterflies in her stomach fluttered at the close proximity of his body—his warmth and masculine scent. She put a hand over his hard, muscular chest. Their hearts seemed to beat in unison.
“So every day he went to the castle kitchen and ordered the chef to make the most delicious and nutritious food in the entire kingdom. That was the only thing worthy of passing her beautiful lips.”
Her mouth twitched in a beginning of a smile, and the shell around her heart cracked.
“Then he made sure the princess ate every bite of the specially prepared food, so she could recover her strength.”
“Ah.”
“The princess found the prince to be kind, and the prince thought the princess was the most wonderful woman he’d ever seen, but then he started to worry. What if the king needed her before she was fully recovered? Then all the prince’s efforts would be for naught.”
“What a terrible waste.” She giggled.
“Precisely.” He tapped the tip of her nose. “So a few days later, when the princess got dressed to go back to her royal duties, the prince stopped her and demanded proof of her good health.”
When he didn’t continue, she said, “So what did she do?”
“She didn’t do anything.” His eyes bore into hers. He was so close, his breath fanned against her lips. They tingled in anticipation. “It was the prince who finally said, ‘I know what to do.’”
“So what did he do?” she whispered, her gaze drifting down to his lips.
“This.” Mark’s mouth closed over hers, and she trembled. There was something so intimate about his kiss, like he could read her completely through that single connection. She pulled him closer for a better taste. It was all Mark and sugar-sweet promises.
A week ago, what they were doing would have scared her to death. She didn’t want to believe in empty gestures. But now…she wasn’t so sure they were empty. Everything Mark had done was too much work for a short-term, meaningless fling. Even if everything between them were to end tomorrow, she wanted to reach out and grab him now with no regrets.
He slid his big, hot hand along her leg. It slipped under her skirt, and she loved the slow pulsing it created inside her. New and pleasurable feelings coursed through her. No man had ever brought out this sharp and a
ddictive chemistry.
He nuzzled her jaw line and neck, taking his time, then very carefully ran his hand along the under curve of her breasts. She felt the touch as if she wasn’t wearing anything. And she couldn’t help but imagine how much nicer it would be if she were fully naked, and he was touching her skin-to-skin.
“So damn soft,” he breathed. “Hilary.”
“Yes?”
“Will you make love with me? I’m dying to take this to the next level, but if you aren’t sure…”
This was her final chance to turn him away and protect herself. But if she pulled back now, it’d signal the end to all this. They’d go to his family party together, and that would be it. No man would want to be around a woman who pulled back over and over again without risking even a fraction of herself.
She cupped his face between her hands. “I’m very sure.”
He closed his eyes and whispered, “Thank god.”
Suddenly his relief and joy broke a tight vise around her heart. With a wicked grin, she pushed him back and straddled him. Her skirt bunched up around her hips, but she didn’t care.
“You drive me crazy, you know,” she murmured. “You aren’t supposed to be this persistent or intriguing or sexy.”
He grinned up at her. “I am irresistible, aren’t I?”
“And so modest.” She explored his body with her hands. He was all sinew and thick, strong muscles underneath the carefully fitted clothes. He held still as she unbuttoned the crisp white shirt and spread her hands over the expanse of his powerful chest. Dark hair dusted the smooth skin, and she rolled his small nipples with her fingers, then tugged on them.
He sucked in a breath. “Damn.”
“Damn good or damn bad?”
“Damn good and do it again.”
With a soft hum of satisfaction, she moved her hands down the ridges of his stomach and put her mouth where her fingers had been. He was surprisingly sensitive to her touch. She liked that. It made her feel powerful and strong, like she could do anything she wished and keep him in her power.
