She wouldn’t have been able to swear to anything right now. “Sounds like me.”
He had an inspiration. “Come up with me,” Christopher proposed suddenly. “Fly up to San Jose. I’ll return the favor and show you around.”
She was tempted. Tempted to continue the charade just a little longer. What would it hurt?
Everything.
With more regret than she had thought there was in the world, she shook her head. “I can’t. We’re launching your campaign Monday, remember?”
It hadn’t been easy. The whole company had dropped everything to mount this television commercial. Buying a time slot so close to the holiday had been almost impossible. But Theresa had put in a few phone calls, pulled in a favor and a prime thirty-second opening on the most popular sitcom on the airwaves came their way. Once that was known, several others had materialized. The price tag had been hefty, but the returns, T.J. was certain, were going to be tremendous.
Her parting gift to Christopher, she thought sadly.
He frowned slightly. “You don’t have to be here to do that.”
“Yes, I do,” she contradicted. And it was true. She did have to be here. It was her baby to oversee. “It’s more complicated than you think.”
“Can’t you give it to T.J. to do?” he suggested. “I still haven’t met her, you know.” She’d promised to introduce him to her cousin, but each time he brought it up, the woman was elusively missing.
Yes, you have. I’m right here, in your arms. “She’s been very busy this past week.”
He shrugged, not really interested in anyone else. Only Theresa. He’d asked to meet the woman only because T.J. was related to Theresa and Theresa seemed to think so highly of her. The only person he wanted to see was right here, in his bed.
“There’s time for that later.” The meeting was already forgotten. There was something far more pressing on his mind. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to come with me?”
She wanted to say yes. No one knew who she was at his company. But that would only be drawing a host of others into the deception. Others who might hold it against Christopher for some reason. She couldn’t do that to him. “I’m sure.”
He blew out a breath, disappointed. And then he smiled, shifting over her. “Well, then I guess I just have to make the most of the time I have, don’t I?”
She couldn’t go on this way. The burden of the lie was killing her. “Christopher, I have something to tell you.”
He didn’t like the look in her eyes. It had to do with them. He could sense it. He didn’t want to hear her say something like this past week had been fun, but that now it was over. He didn’t want it to be over. And he was going to do his damnedest to make her not want it to be over, either.
“Shhh.” He pressed a kiss to first one temple, then the other. “I don’t want to talk about business right now.”
“This isn’t about business.”
The words were getting harder and harder to get out. He was kissing the hollow of her throat and tears sprang to her eyes. Tears of joy, of regret. This would be the last time, she promised herself, the last time she’d let him make love to someone she wasn’t.
The last time.
She was going to make the most of it.
He thought he knew her. Knew what she was capable of. He didn’t know a thing. The woman in his bed became a whirlwind of passion. A tigress. He had always been the one to take the initiative, to lead the way. Now the reins, it seemed, had passed into her hands. He surrendered them willingly.
When she rolled over and pushed him onto his back, pleasuring him in ways he’d never even dreamed, he became weak as a kitten. It wasn’t a role he would have thought he’d enjoy.
But then he’d already realized that he didn’t know a damned thing.
She reduced him to a mass of wanting, of ignited passion that seemed to know no end, no resolution. Her fingers lightly glided along his body, kneading, touching, possessing, sculpting. Taking his breath away as he realized the depths to which his desire extended.
“Where,” he breathed, hating the man who had taught her this even as he was grateful to him, “did you learn to do this?”
“Instinct,” she whispered raggedly against his ear. “Pure instinct.”
She couldn’t have given him a better gift if she’d tried.
9
HE’D BEEN IN and out of airports all of his life, flying away to boarding school, then home for holidays. Away on business. They all blurred in his mind. Christopher couldn’t really remember a single instance clearly.
This time, he knew, he would remember. He would remember the way he felt right now, standing here with Theresa saying goodbye, until the day he died—no matter what came after.
Christopher looked down into her upturned face. He could have been standing in the middle of a “Star Trek” convention and he wouldn’t have noticed anyone else but her.
The loudspeaker squawked as the announcement came to an end. They were calling for final boarding of his flight.
He didn’t want to leave.
One last time, he lost himself in her eyes, in the dimple that winked at the corner of her mouth as she smiled at him.
It was a sad smile and they shared it.
Standing near the entrance of the boarding ramp that funneled its way into the airplane, Christopher leaned his head against hers and sighed.
“You know, I caught myself wishing that I’d miss this flight. Where are those famous L.A. traffic jams they’re always talking about when you need them?”
The same thing had occurred to her. And the same wish. But Emmett had had almost a clear path from the house to LAX. It was as if some unforeseen hand had moved aside all the excess vehicles, sweeping them away.
The flight attendant at the entrance cleared her throat, waiting. Urgency hummed in TJ.’s veins. This was going to be the last time she saw him like this. The last time, in all probability, that she saw him at all. It had to be.
“That was pretty much of a miracle, wasn’t it? Maybe it’s a sign that you should go back.” I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want this to end Most of all, I don’t want you to ever find out that I lied to you.
But he would, she thought, a fathomless sadness filling her. He would. And then...
There was something in her eyes, a depth of sadness that spoke to him. She didn’t want him to leave any more than he wanted to go. There should be a way around this. But for now he knew there wasn’t. He couldn’t forsake the businessman in him entirely, even though for the first time in his life he desperately wanted to.
Christopher framed her face with his hands. These last few days had been indescribably incredible. He felt almost as if he were being struck by lightning. Or born for the very first time. Strange sensation to relish at the age of thirty-three. He wasn’t about to relinquish what he’d just found. This separation, Christopher promised himself, was just temporary.
“I only read the signs I like,” he assured her with a grin.
You won’t like any of this, once you know the truth. She glanced over her shoulder at the flight attendant. There was understanding in the blond woman’s eyes as she gestured them forward. There was a time schedule to adhere to, love notwithstanding.
T.J. slipped her arms around his neck. One kiss, one last kiss. “If you don’t hurry, you’re going to miss your flight.”
Would that be so bad? he wondered. There’d be another one in its place. But there were things he had to attend to. He couldn’t just shrug off responsibilities because his insides felt as if they’d been drop-kicked by a mule. Or just because he found himself lost in a beautiful woman’s eyes.
Ignoring the attendant’s light touch on his arm, Christopher kissed T.J. Long and hard, with the passion of someone going away for a very long time, instead of the week he silently planned.
“Sir.”
He broke contact and began to back away down the ramp, still looking at T.J. “I’ll send one of my peopl
e down with the contracts as soon as they’re signed.”
To make their mutual lawyers happy, he’d signed a temporary agreement so that C & C Advertising could get the Valentine’s Day commercial underway, but a ream of legal documents were waiting for his signature before the deal was final.
T.J. watched as the distance between them lengthened. The sadness within her grew in direct geometric proportions. “I’ll be waiting for them.”
At the last moment, just before he would have disappeared around the corner and into the plane, Christopher sprinted back up the ramp. The attendant, taken by surprise, didn’t follow immediately. When she did, she was exasperated.
“Sir—”
He didn’t bother to turn around. He wanted to keep looking at the woman who had brought rainbows into his world. “Just another minute.”
Frazzled, the attendant looked over her shoulder at another woman who emerged from the far end of the ramp near the plane. She shrugged at her helplessly.
“But the flight—”
There wasn’t time for anything more than a fleeting kiss. It wouldn’t be fair to keep a whole plane waiting. Releasing her, he hurried back down.
“Valentine’s Day,” he called out to TJ.
She didn’t understand. Was he telling her something about the TV campaign? “What?”
“I’ll be back for Valentine’s Day,” he promised, raising his voice above the noise emerging from the end of the ramp. “Keep it open.”
And with that, he disappeared into the waiting airplane and out of her life.
“Goodbye,” TJ. whispered.
She stood there, immobile, even when the attendant returned to close the door. The woman flashed her a sympathetic look.
T.J. was vaguely aware of the attendant nodding at her. She stepped back, lost in a sea of emotion. Relief and misery joined hands in an awkward minuet. She was relieved Christopher was finally on the plane and the danger of exposure was temporarily over. And yet she was so miserable, she felt she could curl up and die.
Valentine’s Day.
He said he’d be back on Valentine’s Day. Ironic, wasn’t it? She’d always wanted someone to make a fuss over her on Valentine’s Day. Theresa had always been the one inundated with gifts and dates. No one had even thought to send her a card.
Not even Peter. She’d met him in late February, just after Valentine’s had passed. By the time the holiday had rolled around again, they were together, but he was so complacent in their relationship, he hadn’t bothered to even take note of Valentine’s Day.
A sad smile curved her lips. She’d always strongly identified with Charlie Brown and the empty mailbox, knowing just how he felt.
And now, with a promise of romance lingering fresh in the air, she still couldn’t look forward to the day. Because she didn’t want him returning. Didn’t want him ever finding out that she had deceived him. And he would if he came back. How long could her luck hold out? How long could she keep up the charade?
Taking the escalator down to street level, she let her mind drift in a momentary fantasy. Christopher and she celebrating their fiftieth anniversary in an exclusive restaurant, surrounded by children and grandchildren. Her hand would be on his, about to cut the five-foot-high cake. A tiny replica of them the way they’d been on their wedding day would stand on the top tier.
“Um, honey, there’s something I have to tell you,” she would whisper in his ear. “I’m really my cousin T.J. and Megan is really my daughter.”
And then Christopher would drop the knife and walk out of the restaurant. Out of her life forever.
She wasn’t even able to make him understand in her fantasy. She certainly couldn’t hope to find the right words in real life.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to.
The prospect didn’t cheer her.
T.J. walked out of the terminal, looking for Emmett and the black stretch limo.
Odds were that once Christopher was back in San Jose, concerns about business would swallow him up and he’d forget he’d ever said anything. After all, men took these liaisons lightly.
But she didn’t.
She blinked back tears as she saw the car and began walking to it.
Just as well if he didn’t come back.
The hell it was.
Emmett sprang to attention when he saw her, tucking the newspaper he’d been reading under his arm. One look at her face and he felt his heartstrings being tugged.
“You certainly look down-and-out.” Moving nimbly, Emmett opened the rear door for her. He made a guess. “Mr. MacAffee find out at the last minute?”
T.J. shook her head. The interior of the car looked too lonely for her to bear. “Mind if I ride up front with you?” She turned her moist eyes to his and hoped he wouldn’t notice that she’d been trying not to cry. “I could use the company.”
Emmett offered her his handkerchief. She took it and dried her eyes. Of all the people he had ever driven around, Mr. Shawn’s daughter had been the only one who had ever related to him on an equal footing. He thought the world of her and hated seeing her so unhappy.
“My pleasure, miss.” He opened the front door for her before she could reach for it.
Rounding the hood, Emmett took his seat quickly and started the limousine. Expertly, he maneuvered the large automobile as if it was no more than a VW Bug, weaving in and out of traffic. Taking Century Boulevard, he entered the freeway.
Emmett decided to hazard one last guess, hoping he was right. He didn’t want to think of her crying over a man. “Contract fall through?”
“No, the contract’s fine.” Theresa, at least, would be very happy. “Which is more than I can say for me,” she whispered under her breath.
Making no comment, Emmett reached over to the radio. He turned the knob until he found what he was looking for. An oldies station.
T.J. looked at him in surprise, then smiled. Emmett hated oldies music with a passion. All he ever listened to was classical. But he knew she liked it.
“Thanks.”
He nodded. “Don’t mention it.”
She sat back, staring straight ahead, trying to sort things out in her mind. She couldn’t, not yet. “They’re right about what they say.”
“And what’s that, miss?” His voice was soothing, low-key.
“About what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” It was more than something in a dusty book of quotations. It was now her life.
“Wouldn’t know about that, miss. My life’s very untangled.”
She laughed softly. “You don’t know how lucky you are, Emmett.”
His small brown eyes met hers as he stopped the car at the light. “Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I would have welcomed a bit of a tangle.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “Things have a habit of working themselves out. Wait and see.”
Not this time, she thought. But she only nodded in response. There was no sense in discussing it. What was done was done.
THERESA WAS THE FIRST one in her path when she got off the elevator an hour later. T.J. had come to the office straight from the airport. Maybe if she kept busy enough, she just wouldn’t think.
It was a feeble plan at best, doomed to failure.
Theresa was dressed in the subdued fashion T.J. always favored, her bountiful hair pulled back just the way T.J. wore hers when she came to work. Though she hadn’t run into Christopher by design, Theresa had thought it prudent, though annoying, to dress the part she had reluctantly assumed until the man returned up north. Just in case.
She looked eagerly behind T.J. as the latter walked out of the elevator. There was no one with her. Theresa turned bright, hopeful eyes on her cousin. “Well, did you get him off?”
T.J. nodded. Never breaking stride, she continued walking down the hall to her office.
“Thank God!” With a dramatic sigh, Theresa pulled the clip from her hair and tossed her head. Her dark hair rained about her shoulders. “I can be me again.” She shoved the clip into T.
J.’s hands. “I didn’t think I could stand this masquerade much longer.” Combing her fingers through her hair, she followed T.J. down the hall, absently wondering what the hurry was. “You know, you really got the better end of the deal.” She turned toward her own office and the change of clothes she’d brought in in the hope that they’d seen the last of Christopher MacAffee at the office. Theresa twisted a button open on her blouse. “I don’t know how you can stand these drab clothes.”
“They’re comfortable,” T.J. answered absently. Without thinking about it, she drew her hair back and caught it in the clip.
“They’re awful.” Theresa stopped and looked at T.J. She didn’t look like a woman who had successfully driven home a major deal. “Are you all right? Anything wrong with the deal?”
The deal. The word echoed in T.J.’s brain. That was all that mattered. People, whole families, depended on their landing large accounts. And MacAffee Toys was a big one. She had to keep that in mind.
“The deal is alive and well. He’s sending the final contracts back down via a courier as soon as they’re signed.”
“Good job.” Pleased, Theresa hugged T.J. T.J. wasn’t hugging back. T.J. always hugged back. Puzzled, Theresa peered at her face. T.J. turned away and walked into her office. Concerned, Theresa followed. “There is something wrong.” She knew it was too easy. There was a catch to the agreement. “What?”
When was this hollow feeling going to let go of her? Her back to Theresa, T.J. squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears. “What could be wrong? We have a multimillion-dollar company on our books and an inspired commercial on the air, which the head of the company thinks is charming. Everything’s wonderful. Couldn’t be better.”
Sarcasm wasn’t TJ.’s long suit. Theresa became sincerely worried. But when she touched her cousin’s shoulder, T.J. shrugged her away.
“T.J.—”
The last thing she wanted was to talk about it. Or worse, see pity in Theresa’s eyes. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll get out of these clothes and get some work done, all right?”
She knew when she was being dismissed. For once, Theresa let it slide. T.J. wasn’t one to discuss her problems. Unlike her.
My Phony Valentine Page 11
