“Shay?”
She jumped, and shook herself free of the memories. That man was not this one. The lover had been attentive and generous. This...stranger was neither of those things. “London is in her room, I believe.”
“Look at me, will you?” he said. “We need to talk.”
No, they didn’t. And looking at him, looking into those lion-gold eyes, wasn’t going to put them on that all-important professional footing. Maybe tomorrow, with more time and distance since they’d shared kisses, breath, a bed, she would have her armor intact and her memories safely locked away.
Maybe she could fully face him then.
The harsh screech of the bar-stool legs against the polished concrete floor scraped her nerves. He was sitting instead of going away, she thought with a grimace.
But there was an odd heaviness to the sound of his body dropping into the chair. Without thinking, Shay swung around, only to see Jace sprawled in the seat, his elbows on the island, his head in his hands.
“What is it?” she asked, alarmed.
“I’ll be all right in a minute.”
“Is it the elevation again?” She hurried to get him a glass of cold water. “Drink this down.”
He didn’t move. “No.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” she snapped. “If you’re afraid I’ll think less of you if your machismo takes another hit, forget about it. I—”
“Already don’t think much of me?” he finished for her, lifting his head.
He looked terrible. There were lines of pain around his eyes and he squinted as if the light were torture.
“Why would you say that?” she asked, ignoring her guilty flush.
His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I caught the hint from those emails you sent.”
Shay swallowed. Not only had she written all that stuff about dancing lessons and field trips to chocolate factories, but she also recalled subtly—or maybe not so subtly—expressing her opinion on absentee parenting. “You read them?”
“Finally. After I recovered.”
Her eyes rounded. “Um...recovered? Recovered from what?”
“I need to get some pain relievers.” He stood abruptly, the uncharacteristically clumsy movement knocking over the stool. At the loud clatter, he put both hands to his head as if to hold it together.
“Jace.” Shay rushed around the island to right the seat. Then she urged him back into it, tugging gently on one elbow. “I can get it. Something special? A prescription?”
“No. Just a couple of the regular kind.”
He took the tablets with the water and without argument. For a few moments he sat, eyes closed, just breathing. Shay gripped the metal edge of the island, watching him with concern.
When his lashes lifted, she could see some of the discomfort had left him. “Better?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s up?”
He shrugged. “Construction accident. I ended up with a badly sprained ankle and a concussion. For a time I found it difficult to think, read, communicate clearly. I still get headaches, obviously—tension brings them on.”
Remorse flooded Shay. While she’d been sending snarky emails and thinking uncharitable thoughts, he’d been laid up thousands of miles away with serious injuries. Still... “There wasn’t someone who could send an email for you? Make a call?”
“This was a lay-of-the land mission, four of us in the middle of nowhere. My interpreter-slash-fixer understood a limited amount of English and my Arabic is sketchy. Beyond blueprints, we had a difficult time making ourselves known to each other. So I concentrated on getting here as soon as I could.”
Frowning a little, she drew closer, continuing to watch him with assessing eyes. Definitely better, but—
“Christ, I don’t need a nurse. Stop hovering.”
Affronted, Shay spun around.
“Wait.” Jace reached out, but her arm slipped through his fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to...”
Hot showers, Shay thought, with sudden understanding. Birthday celebrations. Depending upon someone else, if only for a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. “It’s all right,” she said, insult evaporating. “I’m going to make coffee. Would you like some?”
“Sure,” he said. “Thanks.”
Her back was to him as she ground the beans and fiddled with the settings on the coffeemaker. Silence grew between them as she pulled mugs from the cabinet and readied the cream and sugar.
Before she sensed a single footstep, heavy male hands closed over her shoulders. Shay jerked once, then stilled. When he wasn’t hurting from a headache, she thought, the big man moved with such smooth grace. Unnerved by it, Shay placed her palms flat on the countertop and tried to calm her thudding heart.
“Shay,” Jace said, bending his head so his mouth was close to her ear. “I’m sorry. Really.”
She closed her eyes, willing herself not to lean into his warmth. A ripple of desire rolled over her skin, slid down her arms, over her breasts, her belly, her hips. God, she’d never felt like this, so aware of a man, so greedy for his touch.
She’d expected only one night with him, but now, now there was another possibility. There could be a summer of such moments, she thought, aching to feel his heat surrounding her, his weight on top of her, his thick column of flesh inside her again. Her eyes closed. There could be such a sweet, sweet summer. Yes, the fact that he was her boss was a complication, but if they could sort that out—
“Really sorry,” he continued, “but your employment will be terminated early. Though I’ll pay out for the full contract, of course, I’m giving you four weeks’ notice.”
“What?” Lust and longing had muddled her brain. She felt drugged with it and shook her head to focus her thoughts. “What did you say?”
“Four weeks’ notice,” he repeated.
The words splashed over her like icy water. Wrenching from his hold, she scurried to the other side of the island. “I don’t understand.”
“You do,” he said, his gaze on her face. “After what happened between us...”
But that hadn’t happened! Didn’t he understand their unspoken agreement that Shay and Jace were different people than Birthday Girl and Jay? Except...except a moment ago she’d been a breath away from begging for his touch, his heat, his—
Embarrassment kindled her temper. “Wait. Let me get this straight. Are you firing me because of our night at the Deerpoint Inn? I don’t think that’s legal!”
He grimaced. “Well—”
“You’re letting me go because of a...of a personal choice I made on my own time?” She was aware of the outrage in her voice. “Because I went to bed with you?”
“Jesus, Shay.” He glanced behind him. “Can you keep it down?”
“No, I can’t keep it down,” she said, though she lowered her voice to an incensed whisper. “How dare you judge me?”
“I’m not judging. I’m—”
“What about you? You’re a single dad but that didn’t stop you from indulging in a one-night stand, seducing a vulnerable—”
“Vulnerable, my ass.” Jace strode around the island and had hold of her shoulders again. “Seduce, your ass.”
“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to pull out of his grasp.
“Explaining to you the problem we have,” he said from between his teeth. “No, showing you the problem we have.” Then he bent his head and kissed her, his mouth hard and punishing and...
Beautiful. Masterful. Irresistible.
Shay’s lips surrendered to the pressure of his and then his tongue was inside, plunging to rub against her own, pulling back to toy with her, then sweeping back in again. Her body melted against the hard wall of his chest and she pressed her breasts to it and her
belly to the heavy rise of his erection.
She tumbled into another bubble, still in Jace’s clasp. It pulsed around them like a heartbeat. It was a refuge. A private shelter. Their very own place. To anchor herself there, she tucked her fingers into the waistband at the back of his jeans. He grunted, low in his throat, and fed more deeply from her mouth.
Then, in an abrupt, desperate move, he pushed her away. Shay felt the counter at the small of her back, and she leaned there, panting. His golden eyes were molten and she felt his gaze like a touch as it moved from her mouth to her heaving breasts to the heated juncture of her thighs. Her muscles clenched there, and he groaned, as if he sensed that sweet spasm.
“You’ve got to see...” He sucked in a quick breath. “This is a problem.”
She crossed her arms over her chest to hide her taut nipples and trembling hands. “Just...just stop kissing me.”
He gave her a wry look. “’Cause that’ll work.”
“Jace—”
“No, I’ve made up my mind.” He pushed his hands through his hair. “I’m moving up the timetable.”
“Timetable?”
“I had a boarding school picked out for London come September. I know I was supposed to spend the next three months here, with her, with you, but obviously...” He shook his head. “I made a call. She can go to the summer session that starts in four weeks.”
Shay gaped at him. “You can’t do that.”
“Won’t she be ready? From those emails, I thought you said she was making great progress. Maybe I can get her another tutor at the school—”
“Jace, she needs time with you.”
His face settled into stubborn lines. “Look, I don’t know anything about her. I know even less about being a father and it’s obvious it’s too late for me to learn. Now that I’ve seen her, it’s clear she’s not interested in that kind of relationship with me anyway.”
“You can’t know what might happen over time—”
“A summer won’t help.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”
“No.” He forked his hand through his hair. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame her in the least, but...but no.”
Shay wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something at him. Maybe if she quit now, walked out on the stupid man, he’d be forced to rethink his decision.
Or he’d retreat for four weeks and not engage with the girl altogether until it was time to pack her off to boarding school.
Still, perhaps it would be better that she go, especially as Jace had made it clear he wasn’t interested in being around her, despite that scorching, seeking kiss. Shay could return tonight to her own place. Wasn’t she accustomed to being alone?
A furtive movement over Jace’s shoulder caught her eye. London, dressed in her usual dreary black, her presence moving along the hall like a shadow.
The girl didn’t need to be ignored and left adrift, she thought, her heart aching. London needed an anchor. Something Shay had been providing the past months.
Four more weeks wouldn’t be so bad, she decided. She’d take that time to do what she could for the teen...while taking care to save herself from any unreciprocated wishes or impossible dreams.
* * *
JACE AWOKE AT DAWN. Jet lag was a bitch, and so was the cold, cavernous master suite. He yanked on jeans, a T-shirt and a pair of running shoes and let himself out the back door that opened onto the wide deck that wrapped around the house.
The air was still, the sky a pale, pale gray. The green of the fir trees along the shore was almost black against the nearly colorless canvas. Mist rose from the lake, obscuring its surface. Resembling flying ghosts, the vapor skimmed across the water then shifted, driven by a slight breeze to return like second thoughts.
Jace jogged down the steps to the sloping lawn that led to the narrow beach and the dock there. The wooden structure was painted a deep blue with matching canvas awnings, and consisted of a short rock staircase rising to a platform that loomed over the water. From it, a gangplank angled down to the wide berth that contained the sleek powerboat he’d bought with the house. It was neatly tied to metal cleats and bobbed gently.
Where were the keys? he wondered as an urge came over him to take the thing for a spin. He could already feel the power of it in his hands and beneath his feet, a convenient vehicle for whisking him away from the tangled complications in his life.
But hell, this was a lake, wasn’t it? A finite body of water that meant he was caught forever within its boundaries. Any trip would only bring him back to his starting place.
To London.
To Shay.
To those misgivings that continued to emerge from the troubled pool of his thoughts.
But no, damn it, he assured himself. He’d made a decision to cut this sojourn short. The right decision.
All he needed was a little caffeine to cement that certainty.
So he turned back to the house, only to find someone else was up, as well. In the kitchen Shay was at the counter. Once more she was occupied with the coffee machine, her back to him.
The overhead light picked out gold threads in her auburn hair. The color warmed the stainless-steel-and-cement kitchen, a flame that seemed to give the place some much-needed life. A simple white T-shirt hung from her slender shoulders to brush the waist of the soft, beltless pair of denim jeans she wore. They were cuffed at the ankle to reveal her small bare feet, her toenails painted a translucent pink. Through the windows, the same shade was washing the sky as the sun began to rise over the mountains.
Jace stared at the woman, the same feeling every time he saw her rising like those vapor ghosts on the lake. It went beyond wanting her—and he wanted her very much. Maybe because she’d made him smile and laugh and, most important, take himself a little less seriously.
Just as her presence enlivened the house, for those two nights at the inn, she’d made him feel a bit more human.
Shay suddenly broke the silence. “When are you going to tell London?” she asked, her back still turned.
He blinked. She’d been aware he was standing there...admiring? Clearing his throat, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tell her what?”
“About the change of plans.” She turned and carried a full mug of steaming coffee in his direction. His hands automatically reached for it when she held it his way. “About the upcoming summer session at the boarding school.”
“Uh...” For someone with such bright hair, her blue eyes could be so damn cool, he thought. They stabbed at him now like icy shards. “I’m not sure.”
She returned to retrieve her own thick white mug, where bold red letters proclaimed Size Matters. Jace glanced at the side of his own. Biker Chick. Huh.
“If you’re uncertain about that,” she said, gazing at him over the rim of her coffee, “perhaps it isn’t the right thing to do.”
He took a swallow of the hot dark brew. “It’s the right thing to do.” Because he was the wrong kind of man and it was certainly the wrong time—as in, too late—to try to forge a real relationship with the teen.
Shay shrugged one shoulder. The wide neck of her T-shirt slipped, revealing the lacy edge of a pale pink bra strap. Jace’s belly, and then his groin, tightened. Hell. It took just that small glimpse of intimate apparel and semiprivate flesh to get his full sexual attention.
Tightening his hold on his mug, he glanced away, trying to distract himself and the instinct that was clamoring at him. Snatch her up, it said. Throw her over your shoulder.
In his bedroom, he’d toss her to the mattress, strip her bare, then fist his hands in her hair as he insinuated himself between her thighs. She’d be wet for him, and hot, and he’d lose himself in her and all the problems plaguing—
“What’s everybody doing up so early?” a new voice asked
.
Jace jolted, then glanced over his shoulder to see London shuffling into the room, the hem of a plaid flannel robe flapping around her ankles, her starkly dark hair hanging in her face. Even half-asleep there didn’t seem to be any child left in her.
What did you expect? he asked himself. Teddy bears and Barbie dolls?
“What can I get you?” Shay asked now. “OJ?”
The girl tipped up her chin so her gaze could meet the tutor’s from behind her swathe of hair. “Espresso?”
“I don’t think so,” Shay said, shaking her head. “Green tea? Or I can make you a fruit smoothie.”
London spun around and it was then Jace noticed she was wearing slippers shaped like strawberries. Was there some little girl left inside her, after all? “I’m going back to bed,” she said around a huge yawn.
“Classwork starts at eight,” Shay called after her.
Her mumbled reply sounded sleepy.
“Why the hell do you suppose she bothered to get up?” he asked, bewildered.
Glacial blue eyes shifted once more to his face. “My guess?” Shay said. “To make sure you’re still here.”
Shit. Jace didn’t know how to reply to that.
“It’s why you should explain what’s going on right away,” the tutor continued. “Tell her about the school, the new timetable.”
He stared into his coffee. “Maybe it would be better if it came from you.”
She made a sound that was half laugh, half snort. “You’re not paying me enough for that, big guy.”
Double shit. He wasn’t. “I could—”
“Save your breath. This is all on you.”
“All right. Fine.” And he knew she was right. What he didn’t know was exactly how to explain it to London. Still, after a quick breakfast and a detour to his room, his determination got him to the upstairs study area in a timely fashion.
Or not so timely, he realized, when he saw London in front of a computer, already perusing what looked to be some complicated math problems on the desktop’s monitor. It was 8:05 a.m.
Make Me Lose Control Page 7
