“That’s cold, Clare.”
“Merely practical.” Clare slid her spectacles on her nose. “Are we done? I have things to do.”
Luka settled back. “Tell me, Blondie. Anything fun on that long list?”
Clare chilled him with one look at the old nickname. “Don’t call me that.” She straightened some papers. “I have no time for fun. I am busy cleaning up your employee’s mess.”
“Oh, so now he’s my employee.”
“Luka, I know you enjoy trying to vex me, but I’m really very busy. Was there something more?”
Luka inched forward, enjoying the emotions he could sense rippling under the Director’s smooth surface. “It’s about the Donahue girl.”
She gave him another of her bland looks. “I’m beginning to wonder if anything isn’t about the Donahue girl. In fact,” she added, with a brief show of dry humor, “what did we do with ourselves before she came along?”
“I think I had a Rubik’s Cube I was trying to crack.” Luka grinned as her eyes narrowed at the corners. There was something about Clare that just made him want to rile her. “I want to keep an eye on her.”
“Ms. Donahue?”
“Yeah.” Luka trailed a hand down his neck. “The whole situation . . . Jax visiting the Library and some of the records going mysteriously missing. It stinks like the men’s toilet after chili night.”
“Charming.”
His teeth flashed, and he pushed to his feet to walk around behind her. He planted his hands on her shoulders. “Come on, Clare.”
“Do what you wish. I, for one, suggest you have a shower.” Her nose wrinkled as she added another notation to her list. “You smell.”
Luka squeezed her shoulders and released her. “I’ll let you know if anything hits the fan.”
He was halfway out before she called his name. He turned, an eyebrow lifted in question.
She had her head tilted, searching him as though the answers she sought were written on his face. “What are you expecting?”
His answer was succinct. “Trouble.”
* * *
Charlie took a sip of her wine and glanced across at Jax. As she watched, he cut a piece of his steak and raised it to his mouth. His eyes were distant as he chewed. When he caught her gaze, his lips lifted into a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “This is great, but you know I could’ve got takeout.”
“I wanted to cook.” She took another swallow of wine, ignoring her steak.
He smiled and went back to eating.
It was painfully quiet, the only break the clink of his utensils on the plate.
It had been like that all week. Ever since Jax had been informed last Saturday night he would be leaving, he’d been occupied. Whether it was with sorting out details with his trip or talking to England on the phone or dealing with his temporary replacement, he’d been . . . occupied.
It wasn’t so much that he’d stopped seeing her. He still dropped by The Book Nook almost every day, and every night he’d drawn her to his bed where he’d made love to her body with a fierce passion that almost made her weep. He was saying good-bye. She knew it as she knew her own name.
Charlie pressed her lips together and put down her wineglass. She’d promised herself there would be no scenes, no tearful good-byes. Tonight was his last night and she would love him until sunrise, and then she would let him go. She would not cling and try to fence him in. She knew there was no point.
“Is Josh excited about going?” She attacked her steak with determination.
“Hmm? Oh.” Jax stabbed a pea. “Yeah.”
She waited, but apparently that was it. “Are you getting some kind of rented housing or is WFY putting you up in a snazzy bachelor pad?”
He shrugged.
Snaps of temper sizzled in her blood. She gave it one last shot. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? You can visit Big Ben and the Tower of London and the Houses of Parliament. And you can visit Covent Garden—you know, where My Fair Lady was filmed?”
His teeth closed around a piece of steak and chewed.
Charlie threw down her cutlery and it clattered on the plate. “What is wrong with you?”
His blue eyes were sparkling with gold as he looked across at her. He deliberately placed his cutlery down and toyed with his wineglass. “What do you mean?”
“You’re acting like a teenager who’s pissed off at his mom.”
“Sorry if I’m not gushing about England like you.” His eyes gleamed.
Her chair screeched as she thrust it back. She stood and strode over to where she’d thrown her jacket. “I’m just going to go.”
“Why?”
“Why?” she echoed, disbelieving. She shoved her arms into the jacket sleeves and buttoned it. “You clearly don’t want me to be here.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You’ve been pushing me away all week. Look.” Charlie flipped her hair out from beneath the jacket and took in a deep breath. No scenes. Dignity. Her heart ached as she made herself look at him. “We knew this, us, was going to end at some point, so we might as well just say it now.”
He lounged like a big cat, watching her with predator’s eyes. “You’re dumping me?”
“No. It’s not like that.”
“Sounds like it to me.”
Charlie’s hands curled in at her sides. Dignity, Donahue. “We’re two adults. We knew this wasn’t ever going to go long term, so why ruin your last night with strained conversation?”
“You’re right.” He unfolded from his seat with slow deliberateness. His every action was temptation wrapped in sin, his eyes burning with hunger that she recognized. “Why talk?”
Her heart beat faster as he stalked toward her. She moved backward against her will, hitting the back of a couch. Her hands flew up. “Jax, don’t make this about sex.”
“Why? That’s all this is, right?” Another emotion besides arousal burned in those blue eyes as he stopped before her. One strong arm wrapped around her, tugging her against his hard body.
She almost melted, her body singing with memories. “Jax . . .”
“Just sex?” His lips descended to her jaw, and he planted soft, heated kisses along the line. Her eyes slid closed. His other hand gripped her hip. “That’s what you want.”
Charlie’s eyes flew open. She pushed against his chest. “Jax, stop.”
“I thought this was what you wanted. One last service from your stud man.”
The cruel words dug at her, and she twisted out of his arms. She clutched the couch as she stared at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
He barked a laugh. “What’s wrong with me? We’re just having fun, isn’t that right? I’m here to serve.”
“Why are you acting like this?” She didn’t understand.
His eyes blazed at her. “Should I be gushing about England, like you?”
“I’m trying to be supportive.” Temper sizzled, restrained just barely.
“Well, don’t. Say what you really mean. Don’t be just another groupie.”
The leash snapped. Dignity fell by the wayside. “You want to know what I think? I think it’s crap. It’s crap. You’re being banished and it’s because of me, because of our affair, and it’s my fault. And I can’t stand it; I can’t stand it because it hurts. It hurts, Jax. You’ll be thousands of miles away in a different country surrounded by beautiful women with their beautiful accents and their beautiful English manners, and I’ll be here in my oversized sweaters and my redesigned bookstore, eating box after box of Aunt Mabel’s cookies and clutching the scarf you gave me because it’s all I’ll have left of you.” Her voice had reached a decibel where it echoed around the apartment. She shoved at him. “And you’ll forget me. You’ll carry on as though this was just a temporary blip on your perfect life, and I’ll be the funny anecdote you trot out at the next charity ball. And I—” Her voice broke. “I’ll be alone and fat from eating too many cookies and watching for you every week on Lisette’s Hour.”
Humiliation was an ocean wave that crashed through her as the last of her words faded. “Oh, my God.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and she made to run.
His arm caught her around the stomach and he hauled her into him. He shook her, his face alight with anger and lust. “Why?”
“Let me go.” She pushed against him, fearing that the worst would really happen and that she’d cry in front of him.
“Why, Charlie? Tell me why, damn you.”
“Because I love you, you jackass!” She glared at him. “There, are you satisfied? Have I humiliated myself enough for you?”
His mouth slammed onto hers, his hands hauling her to him. She kissed him back with furious passion, nipping and biting and licking, trying to absorb every detail. Her hands combed through his hair as she strained onto her toes.
When he let her go, she was shaking.
His hands framed her face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What was I supposed to do—be the clingy, whining woman who pretends we’re more serious than we are? C’mon, Jax. I’ve known from the beginning that you’re not the kind of guy to build marriage plans around.”
“Your mom really screwed you up.” He shook his head. “Not everybody is going to change on you, Charlie. Every relationship needs trust. Do you trust me?”
“Jax . . .”
He persisted. “Do you trust me?”
“It’s not about trust. I don’t want you to think I’ve wrapped strings about you.”
“What if I want strings?”
Her mouth fell open. “What?”
His lips pressed together and he slid away, pacing back and forth in front of her. His blue eyes flashed gold as he looked at her. “What if I want more with you?”
“What . . .” Damn, her mouth was dry. She swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to give you up, Charlie. Do you want to say good-bye to me?”
Courage. “Of course I don’t. But—”
“No.” He shook his head and faced her. “No buts. If I want to be with you and you want to be with me, we can make it work.”
“Then why have you been so cold all week?”
“Why have you practically been pushing me out the door?” he countered. “Talk about killing a guy’s ego.”
Charlie stepped forward. “I didn’t want to seem like I expected more than I should. I wanted to be supportive.”
“Don’t. Don’t be supportive. It’s not like I chose this.” His eyes flashed. “It’s not like I chose to be apart from the woman I love for months.”
Her breath stalled in her throat, and she actually stumbled in midair. “What?” Her voice came out paper thin.
Jax looked as shocked at her. He ran a hand over his hair. “I, ah, didn’t mean to say that.”
“Then it’s not true?”
“Hell, I don’t know. What’s love? All I know is I think about you every day. I want you in my bed, in my shower, on my couch mouthing along the words to old Friends reruns.” She smiled at that. He continued in a deeper voice. “I want to watch your eyes darken when I kiss you, when I touch you to hear that catchy moan in the back of your throat. I want to smell your cupcakes in my oven. Your smell. I want every single piece of you wrapped around me until I can make sure you’re safe. I hate that shitty apartment you live in, and if I thought I’d get away with it, I’d move you to a better one.”
“It’s not so bad,” she whispered, taking a step forward.
“I want to go to galas with you and mock the society women. I want to watch you undress and know I’m the only man who’s lucky enough to see below the sweaters. I want to take you to Paris and eat croissants and lick pastry off your breasts. I want to listen to you sleep next to me.” He blinked. A shaky breath leaked from him as he put a hand out to clutch one of the table chairs. “Fuck. I’m in love with you.”
“You don’t have to sound so pleased.”
His hand was actually shaking as he drew it down his face. “Charlie, help me out. I’ve never . . . I sound like a whipped jackass.”
Charlie wondered what the public would think hearing America’s most charming Genie’s thoughts on whispering sweet nothings. Sensitive it was not. And yet . . . Her heart clenched. “I think it sounded . . . sweet.”
He groaned. “Please don’t call me sweet.” As if it were an insult akin to calling him a little bitch. Her little bitch.
Warmth tingled in her toes. “Jax.”
He looked across at her. “Yeah?”
She let out an unsteady breath. “I love you.”
His face darkened like a storm, passion glittering in his eyes. He stalked toward her and caught her up, catching her mouth and sliding his tongue in. He kissed her as though it were the last time, the first time. He kissed her as if he loved her and wouldn’t be able to see her for months. He broke away, his forehead against hers. “I love you, too.”
* * *
They stayed awake all night, touching, kissing, tasting, cramming in every moment they could before the sun rose. When Charlie walked him to the door of the apartment, tears crowded her throat, though she knew it was ridiculous and completely marshmallowy. So she hid it like she always did.
“So, you can’t ‘pop’ back here?” She pressed her head against his chest and inhaled his crisp apple scent. “At all?”
“The Partners have forbidden me flashing across the water.” His voice rumbled against her. “Why—will you miss me?” His mouth sought hers.
“Like a loving dog that follows me around.” When he nipped her, she smiled. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed. “It’s not like you’re shipping out forever.” She framed his face with her hands. “Have a good flight. Say hi to the queen for me.”
His lips were gentle against hers as she tightened her arms. She opened her eyes and stepped back. “There’s my good boy.”
The laugh that tumbled from him was dark and rich. “Who’s going to keep my ego in check if you’re not there?”
“Nobody. You’ll probably be arrogant as a king when . . . if you come back.”
His hand cupped her cheek. “I’m coming back to you, Charlie.”
Although her heart warmed, the dramatic passion of the night had cooled to pragmatism in the light of day. Not saying she didn’t love him with every part of her soul, because she did. She even thought that in his own way he loved her. But who knew how long it would last when he was on a different continent? Although she longed to believe he would still love her when he came back, life had taught her not to depend on anyone.
So she nodded and said, “You don’t mind if I come over here to look at the files, do you?”
“No. I like imagining you here. In fact . . . I’ve been thinking.”
“Did you hurt yourself?”
She squealed as an invisible hand pinched her butt. She glared at him.
“Behave.” His dimple flashed. “I’ve been thinking, how ’bout you stay here while I’m gone?”
Charlie blinked. “Stay here?”
“Move in,” he clarified. He rubbed the back of his neck. “And then, when I come back, maybe you could . . . stay.”
Breath stalled in her throat as panic mingled with love and shot through her system like a drug, amping up her heart rate. Simultaneously, she wanted to throw herself at him and run a mile. “You mean, live with you?” Her voice crept to a high A on the last word.
“Yeah. Would it be so bad?”
“Jax, we barely know each other.” Charlie wrapped her arms around herself and held on tight. She worked on getting her breath to flow through her lungs.
“I know all I need to. I love you, Charlie. I know that I want to wake to you every morning and make love to you every night. I want you in my life.”
Her heart fluttered. He was saying everything she longed to hear, but something held her back. “Why don’t we wait?”
“Wait?” His brow creased, a deep line appearing between his eyebrows.
She swallowed. �
��Yeah. Wait until you get back and . . . we’ll see where we stand then.”
“Charlie, nothing will have changed.”
“Then it’s not a problem, is it?” She pleaded with her eyes.
He held eye contact for a long second before letting go of a gusty sigh. “Whatever you want, but I promise you, I’ll feel the same, and when I’m back on these shores, I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Her stomach unclenched as she pressed her lips into a smile. “Okay. That’s fine. We can talk about it then.”
He gave her a piercing glance, blue eyes searching hers for something before he looked away. “I’d better get going before they drag me off in chains.”
“I’ll let you know if I find anything in the files.”
“You do that. And make sure you don’t walk alone from your apartment.” A trace of a frown darkened his eyes. “I’ve asked someone to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re safe.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I don’t take chances with my woman.” The joke lightened his eyes. “You’ve got a key to get in here, right?” At her nod, he inhaled. “I’d better go,” he repeated.
He straightened and looked at her one last time. She held on to the image of him, his rumpled golden-tipped hair, his sexy blue eyes sprinkled with gold dust, the dimple that creased his cheek as he picked up his suitcase from the floor. He winked at her, an old mask.
“London’s calling.”
19.
Charlie grinned at Kate as she stopped crunching the numbers. “We’re in the black.”
Kate let out a squeal and did a little dance right out on the shop floor. She clapped her hands together. “That’s fantastic, Charlie. Guess all the publicity was good for something, huh?”
“Yeah.” Charlie’s lips fell, a shadow falling over her relief that The Book Nook was finally doing well. The cupcakes were a success, the book club had had its first popular night—minus Jax’s local authors, instead substituting Charlie’s idea, which involved romance books, their addicted followers, and a massive amount of chocolate and wine—and the new interiors had been finished within a day thanks to a certain Genie putting a word in a friend’s ear.
Kate squeezed Charlie’s shoulder. “You okay? You miss him?”
Her Wish--A Playboy Genie Romance Page 24
