"Oh. Well, how about your accounting department?"
"It was a personal check."
"The mail?"
"Dinner."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You said I got dinner out of the donation. I'll be back late Saturday. Have dinner with me on Sunday. Bring the check, and I'll sign it."
I blew out my breath. Was this another game? He was tenacious, I'd say that for him. No wonder he was so successful. But I was not an acquisition to be negotiated.
"I meant that you get dinner at the charity gala. You plus any nine people you want since you bought a full table's worth of seats. Besides, I can't. Sundays are family dinners." Too late, I realized my mistake and wanted to kick myself for offering him an excuse instead of a firm “no.”
"Lunch then."
"I have church."
"Monday works for me."
"I'm sure I'm busy."
"You have to eat sometime, Grace. Even the bible says, 'Man cannot live by bread alone.'"
Oy! I rolled my eyes. "First, I'm impressed you know that passage, even if it is a corruption of the true meaning. Second, why is it so important to you that we get together to exchange a check?"
"Do you give everyone who asks you out such a tough time? I promise my mother doesn't still dress me, I hate the accordion, I don't play baseball, and I already told you I don't drool. I know those things are on your strike list. What else is there?"
"Men who go out of their way to ditch or embarrass me."
There was a short pause, then I heard him sigh. "I'm sorry for both of those things. But you held your own. I admire that."
"Great! Then you'll love my ability to say 'no' to you."
He chuckled. "You should know I thrive on challenges."
I sighed. Why was I giving him an opportunity to explain himself? He’d screwed up twice already. "Why now, Jax? You had a chance to get to know me once before, and you ran at the first available opportunity once you found out who my dad is. Then you were demeaning when you could have apologized."
Silence filled the phone lines between us, then a sigh sounded. "You made me laugh – twice. Maybe I want to know if you can do it again."
Okay. That wasn't what I was expecting. Was that unusual for him? He seemed like he had such a great sense of humor.
He cleared his throat. "It was a fucking terrible idea, wasn't it? Or, can I not use that word with you? I don't know the rules with someone like you."
"What does that mean, 'someone like me?'"
"It means I've never known someone like you, and before you go off on me, it has nothing to do with who your dad is. You're different, in a good way, I think. I'm not sure how to be around you. But I think I'd like to find out."
Wow. I wasn't sure how that made me feel. I didn't want to be someone's shiny new plaything to have for a while and then get tossed aside when the novelty wore off. Still, his words softened my attitude toward him.
"I'm not asking you to be anyone different than you are, Jax," I responded. "Despite who my father is, I'm not a nun or a prude. I’m also not someone who will be manipulated or insulted."
"Noted. Nor should you be."
I snorted. "I shouldn't be what, manipulated or a nun?"
He chuckled. "Both. You're a beautiful woman. It would be a shame to hide your body beneath a bunch of ugly black robes. And I’m trying to make amends. Let me get to know you better."
"I don't know, Jax. I'm still the same person. Nothing has changed."
"I don't want you to change, Grace. If you did, I wouldn't be interested. I was an asshole. I shouldn't have run out on you at the reception. But if you knew the thoughts I was having of you, and then your dad was glaring at me as if he knew. I was out of line earlier this week, and I really would like to take you to dinner. Consider it an apology and an opportunity to tell me more about your charity work."
He's not emotionally available. Maggie's words repeated in my head. Why would I set myself up to be around a man I'd never truly have?
Crap! For the hundredth time, I wished I could be more like Jade and not give a flip what was right or wrong or what the consequences could be.
Thinking I should win some kind of award for restraint, I cleared my throat. "I don't think so, Jax. I'm very busy right now. I think we might be looking for different things. Please, put another check in the mail. I'm sure your secretary can track down the address."
I pushed the button that disconnected the call before he could come back with an answer that would make me reconsider. I powered down my phone, so I wouldn't be tempted to pick up if he called back.
Because Jaxson Carter was the definition of temptation, and I couldn't afford to make a mistake again.
“So, what did he say?”
When I went back inside, Faith and Angie were seated on the floor in front of my coffee table, Laurel’s head between them on the computer screen. It was a tad on the creepy side.
“He apologized and then asked me out to dinner.”
“And you said…” Laurel prompted.
“I said ‘no.’”
“Why?” Angie cried. “He’s handsome, he apologized, and trust me, not many guys do that, and you said yourself he’s a good kisser. Sounds like a promising beginning to me.”
“He’s not relationship material. You guys know me. I’m not a fling type of girl.”
“You don’t think he’s figured that out about you by now?” Angie pushed.
“I don’t know, Grace. I think he’s into you,” Laurel said. “Look how he tracked you down. We all know he could write you a new check, but instead he asked you out. That’s not someone who’s not interested.”
“Girls, stop.” Faith had been quietly listening. Now she rose and stood next to me. “Grace knows what is right for her. If she’s not comfortable with the way things are, then who are we to doubt her?”
She pulled me in for a hug and rubbed my back. “I’m proud of you for standing up for what you believe and not settling,” she whispered in my ear. Why does she sound sad?
Her gesture prompted Angie to turn it into a group hug.
“I just want to find someone who really wants me, you know?”
“You will,” Angie declared. “Maybe it’ll be Jax, who knows. Maybe not. But Faith is right, as usual.”
“I third that! Don’t forget about me!” Laurel’s voice sounded behind us.
All of us piled on the computer with kissy faces. “We love you, too, Laurel. Come home to us soon.”
She waved us off as if we were really kissing her.
Minutes later, we decided to call it a night.
“I’ll take you home, Ang. Don’t call for Uber,” Faith said. Laurel signed off and the rest of us cleaned up.
A couple of minutes later my sisters were out the door. I turned back and looked at the space that had just been filled with people I loved. It felt empty. Normally that didn’t bother me, but tonight it just made me feel alone. I was tired of being alone. Why was it so hard to find a guy I was attracted to who treated me right? I sat on my couch, ready to google the local animal rescue and pick out a cat, just in case.
8
Jax
Of all the mornings for my flight to be canceled. It should have seen it as a sign that I should go home. Instead, I went to my office like the workaholic I was. I planned to start by tying up loose ends concerning Grace. Maybe then I'd be able to forget about her.
"Please be sure that gets to Grace Hart," I directed my secretary, tossing an envelope onto her desk as I breezed past.
She gave the envelope a cursory glance. "I'm afraid I don't have her address, Mr. Carter." She went back to typing something, ignoring me as I stuttered to a stop.
I wheeled around to face her. Most men cowered when I gave them “the glare.” Not Eleanor Jablonski. She sat behind her computer screen, a tower of strength.
"Then call her." I pointed a finger at her. "And before you tell me you don't have her phone number, I know you do, seeing
as how you highlighted it on the form you put on my desk yesterday." The financial requisition paper I'd found on my desk at the end of the day had Grace's name and phone information highlighted in pink, not her standard yellow "Sign here" sticker at the bottom. Sometimes, Ellie was about as subtle as a billboard in Times Square.
"Yes, I have it. I'll write it down again and bring it to you so that you can look up her address yourself. I'm very busy today." She turned back to her computer and resumed typing, oblivious to the fact I probably resembled one of those cartoon bulls I remembered from my childhood. You know, the ones who blow steam just before they charge.
"May I remind you about who signs your paychecks? You take orders from me."
She paused to glance at me over her reading glasses. "And may I remind you that I can retire with two weeks' notice at any time. I'm not here to clean up your messes unless it's business related. And since that's not a company check in a company envelope, I suggest you take care of it yourself."
Damn it. The first rule of business is not to risk anything you can't afford to lose, and Eleanor Jablonski just called my bluff. "You're not irreplaceable you know," I muttered.
When I was younger and first started putting all of my interests under one corporation, I thought an attractive secretary would be a nice enhancement to my office. What I hadn't counted on was how distracted they got while they tried to flirt with me. I even hired a man once, until he, too, flirted with me.
Ellie had been a desperate attempt on my part to find someone who could focus on my business needs rather than my sexual ones. It had almost been a joke in my mind to hire someone who couldn't have been more different from all the rest. She was a widow whose Social Security didn't keep up with her basic needs, and it turned out, the best damn secretary anyone could ask for. She was extremely savvy and organized. I made sure her salary more than compensated for her meager paychecks from the government. I'd even grown to ask for her opinion on occasion.
This, however, was not one of those times.
She sniffed at my petulant-sounding response. "I saw the way Ms. Hart came rushing out of your office yesterday," she clucked while shaking her head.
"Did you see her crying?" I asked.
"No, but she lit out of here like a bear was on her tail." Her shrewd eyes held my gaze without flinching. "I suspect you owe her an apology, and you can do that yourself."
Hmph. I wasn’t some child to be scolded. "I did. Last night," I mumbled.
"Oh, well that's better then." She smiled at me.
I rolled my eyes. "I have a mother, thank you very much."
"And a fine woman she is. She gets you after hours. In here you get me. Deal and chill."
I choked back a laugh. Dressed in classic pearls and orthopedic style shoes, it was sometimes hard to reconcile the granny-like figure to the woman who stood before me like a brick wall trying to use street talk.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. "Then you'll be pleased to know after I apologized I offered to take her to dinner."
She propped her elbows on her desk, interlocked her fingers and rested her chin on them. "And?"
"And what?"
I tossed my head back. "She said, no, okay?" I hissed.
She pursed her lips and nodded. "Of course, she did."
I wonder how much of a severance check I'd have to pay out if I fired her. "What do you mean? I'm a good catch."
Her smirk twisted as she shifted her jaw to the side.
"Don't stop now," I said, sarcastically. "I'm on pins and needles for your advice."
She glanced around, then leaned forward. "You're not used to a woman like Ms. Hart. You can't just crook your finger and expect her to come around. She's smart enough to know that you don't have anything to offer her other than a good time in the sack."
I almost choked on my spit. What happened to the sweet granny figure who brought me homemade frozen meals and kept my schedule and files in order?
"I have plenty to off—"
Ellie waved her hand at me. "I don't mean your bank account. Those floozies you date only want someone who can decorate them in designer clothes and pretty jewelry and keep them sexually satisfied. You need to pay more attention to what's between a woman's ears than between her legs."
Did she just say what I think she did? My ears grew warm.
"I guarantee the equipment is all the same down there. You need someone to stimulate you in other ways."
"Why, Ellie, I'm shocked." And I was, too. Mortified might be a better word.
She rolled her eyes at me. "You think it was that different when I was your age? It's hard to believe now, I know, but all the young men used to come sniffing around me once upon a time. It was flattering. I enjoyed the attention. But when all is said and done, who's the person you want to come home to at the end of a long day? The one who grabs your wallet and heads out on the town to have fun or the one who asks about your day and then sits down to listen? Of all the men I had to choose from, I chose my Freddy because he listened when I talked, he was interested in my thoughts. And I did the same for him." She smiled smugly. "Of course, it didn't hurt that he knew what he was doing between the sheets, too."
Oh, God, make her stop!
"You need someone who sustains you, not drains you. Maybe even someone like that Ms. Hart. She seemed like good people." She started typing again. "Seemed like she got to you, too," she said under her breath.
It seemed like an appropriate time to end this uncomfortable conversation. I headed to my office. "I'm not looking to fall in love and get married, Ellie," I called over my shoulder. "Besides, you already turned me down."
Sitting down at my desk, I blew out a frustrated breath. Ellie's words were closer to the target than I was comfortable admitting. There was something about Grace Hart that caught my interest. Yes, she was pretty. Beautiful, in fact, although there didn't seem to be an ounce of pretentiousness about her. And she made me laugh. For some reason, I kept coming back to that.
But beyond that, there was something about her I couldn't quite put my finger on. She was charming in a straightforward way, not naive or innocent, but more like a refreshingly honest and optimistic outlook on life. She was everything I wasn't, and instead of a turn-off, it was a turn-on.
But she'd turned me down. That should be enough. End of conversation.
A ping alerted me to a new email. I swung back around to my desk. In my inbox was an email from my outspoken secretary with my new travel arrangements and a lone address beneath it. I didn't need a name to know whose it was. Sighing, I printed off the schedule and grabbed some new folders to take with me on my trip.
Ellie wasn't at her desk when I left for the airport, but the envelope I'd tossed there earlier was propped up neatly in her box. Pausing, I stared at it several seconds.
"Fuck it." I kept moving, jabbing the call button on the elevator impatiently. As the doors slid shut, it still sat there, mocking me.
Maybe I was a coward after all.
9
Jax
Warm hands turned me onto my back. Fingers lightly drifted down my chest, over my abs, and straight to my dick.
"You want me, don't you?"
I gazed into the eyes the color of sapphires. "I do. So fucking much." I didn't know why I wanted Grace more than any other woman I'd ever had, but I did. She didn't even have to touch me, and I was entranced.
Ruby-colored lips smiled as the hand stroked me into a full erection. "Please," I gasped, nearly overcome with need.
I closed my eyes as those fingers fisted and slid up and down my hard length, drawing me closer to release. "You have to touch me, too. Make me ready for you."
My hands reached out. But instead of finding the warmth I was seeking, they latched onto cold skin. Startled, I opened my eyes and looked into the face. The eyes were now gleaming with victory rather than tenderness. Hands groped more than caressed. The smile was wicked instead of sweet.
"No!" I tried to shout, but I choked on the w
ords.
"Shh. Just relax and enjoy. You know you want it."
My head rolled on the pillow. "No! No, I don't! This isn't right."
A hand covered my mouth. "You know what'll happen if you tell. But don't worry. I'll make it good. You know I will. Just like I know you like it. You’ll love it, just like you love me."
Silent tears filled my eyes even as my pleasure heightened. No. No, no, no...
"No!"
I sat up, breathing rapidly and clawing at the sheets to push them away as if they were the enemy. Many nights I didn't bother crawling into my bed. I fell asleep on the couch or my desk chair, wherever I happened to be when my body decided it'd had enough and shut down.
I hated going to bed, or more accurately, to sleep. It was the playground for nightmares. Memories snuck into innocent slumber, then became the wicked merry-go-round I couldn't jump off of. It didn't happen every night. I never knew when or if the dreams would come, but they'd trained me to be wary and dread the possibility.
Last night I'd been lured into bed, distracted by thoughts of Grace. Her sweet vanilla scent and silky skin were permanently etched into my memory. Without any known seduction on her part, she'd made me want her with a fierceness I hadn't felt in a long time. For a short time, she'd made me forget about work; made me forget about anything but the moment we were in.
But I was certain she had been raised to be a good girl and taught to stay away from men like me who would take what she had to offer yet give nothing in return. She was the girl you took home, the one you presented a diamond ring before turning back the bedsheets, not the kind you fucked out of your system and moved on from.
Everything I avoided.
I'd spent the past week trying to lose myself in meetings and work to force her from my mind, but my brain seemed hard-wired to remember her. I glanced at the clock next to my bed. Four in the morning. My dick was still hard, but I fought against wanting to chase my release since the dreams of Grace had turned into something much less pure. I trudged toward my shower, making sure the dial stayed in the blue section until the stiffness went away and my balls sought refuge from the freezing spray.
Against the Rules (Harts of Passion Book 1) Page 7
