“Too bad. Here’s what I think is going on between us.” His eyes were intense, unrelenting. “When we first met, you had so much pent-up sexual frustration, you couldn’t help but snap and snarl.”
“The same could be said of you, then,” she said, grinning, knowing now that he was teasing. Sadly, though, his words were true.
“Hey, I’m not going to deny it. It had been a while. More than that, I wanted you and I’d never wanted bait before. I tried to keep you at a distance by being rude. I’m sorry.”
Okay. Wow. Sweetest words ever. “How long had it been for you?”
“Nope, not telling.” He shook his head. “It’s a secret.”
“Tell, tell, tell.”
“Nope,” he repeated, “but I will tell you a different secret. I’ve never slept with a coworker before. Much less an employee.”
Their gazes met and she peered down at him, inexplicably happy. “Never?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
“Truly?”
“Swear to God.” He held up his left hand, as if he were testifying in court.
Again, wow. The knowledge was intoxicating. She was his first. Well, not his first first, but still some sort of first for him.
“Now you tell me a secret,” he said.
Hmm, what should she tell him? She could tell him that she, too, had never slept with a coworker until him, but she didn’t want him to know how different he was for her. Finally she settled on, “I wanted to buy CAM from Anne.”
All amusement drained from his face. “Fuck,” he muttered.
“Yeah. I know.” She settled on his chest.
“That explains some of your resentment,” he said. “I’m just surprised you didn’t stab me in the thigh when you found out I’d bought it.”
“I’m not gonna lie. I thought about it.”
He traced a finger down the bumps of her spine. “So why didn’t you? Buy CAM, I mean.”
“I tried to talk to Anne about it, but she always pushed me away with a promise of later.”
“Did she ever tell you why she wouldn’t sell to you?”
Jillian spread her fingers over Marcus’s chest, taking comfort in the da dump dump rhythm of his heart. “I went out to her lake house yesterday and asked her. She said she didn’t want me to end up like her.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep. Lame, huh.”
“Very.” He squeezed her tightly, almost a full-blown hug. “No matter what Anne said, you’re damn good bait and your Web site idea was great—and I’m not just saying that because I’m sleeping with you.”
“Thank you.”
“But I won’t lie to you. I’m glad she sold it to me.” Pause. “I, uh, never would have met you otherwise.”
In that moment (okay, in a lot of recent moments), Jillian was very glad she’d met him, too, but that didn’t lessen the hurt of having her dream crushed. “And I won’t lie to you. I still want to run it.”
“It’s in the red,” he said grimly. “We’re hurting for money. Anne had pretty much drained the profits this past year. It’s as if she stopped caring.”
Jillian hadn’t noticed any disinterest in the company on Anne’s part, but that didn’t mean anything. Obviously the woman was good at hiding things. That didn’t make the news any less shocking, however. She’d always envisioned CAM as unstoppable.
“But I’m—we’re—going to turn it around,” Marcus vowed. “I’m willing to listen to any more ideas you have. And the others. I’ll even do that suggestion-box thing.”
“A suggestion box is good.” She would have liked having one for her own company. What a sad thought. “So how did you get Anne to sell CAM to you? ’Cause she needed the money?”
He hesitated before saying, “Don’t be mad, but she called and offered it to me.”
“What!” Jillian jolted up. Anne had called him? Anne had tossed CAM into his lap? It didn’t matter how badly Anne had needed the money. She should have given Jillian a shot. Hello, loan.
Marcus tugged her back into his embrace. “She called me, told me that she was interested in selling and that she’d heard good things about my firm. I made an offer right then, she accepted, then later she changed her mind. Said it made her nervous to make so many changes in so short a time. I flew out here, talked to her about it and we were working out specifics a few days later.” He traced a fingertip over her cheek, then along her jawline and her nerve endings came alive. “Don’t be too hard on her, okay? Anne really does think the world of you. She suggested I make you second-in-command.”
That didn’t dull the pain. Anne had never really considered her, yet she’d thrown the business at Marcus. Twice. “What are you going to do when your cuddling time is up?” she asked, changing the subject before she started crying.
“I’ll be too tired to get up,” he said. He gently rubbed her arm with one hand and toyed with a strand of her hair with the other, twining the curl around his finger. “You got a problem with that?”
No. She didn’t want him to go. Not now and not later. Becoming addicted to Marcus, though, and wanting more from him than sex was not good. “You can’t stay the night,” she forced herself to say.
He snorted. “Like I want to stay all night,” he said, but there was no heat in his voice.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
They lapsed into silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it did give her mind the opportunity it needed to swirl with questions. “So…” She couldn’t believe she was going to ask this, but…“You’ve told me a little about your marriage.”
“Yes,” he said warily.
“Tell me more.”
To her surprise, he didn’t stiffen. He continued to caress her arm. “Why do you want to know?”
“Curiosity.” She wished. It was more than that, though, not that she’d admit it. She had to know about him and the woman who had claimed his heart. It was suddenly an ache inside her.
“Kayla was…someone people gravitated to. She did everything in her power to make sure those around her were happy and having fun.”
Okay. In short, everything Jillian was not. She fought against a wave of jealousy. “That’s what drew you to her, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, but not the way you’re thinking. First thing I thought of when I saw her was that if a man couldn’t make a relationship work with a sweet thing like that, he just couldn’t make a relationship work.”
That was more telling than he probably realized and she felt herself relax. He hadn’t fallen for Kayla because of love. He’d fallen for the woman because he’d wanted a sure thing, certain success.
That the relationship had failed probably accounted for most of his distrust.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she said.
He smiled lazily. “I’m not. First time I saw you, I thought, get her naked. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it if I’d been married.”
She chuckled just as his stomach rumbled. “Hungry?” she asked.
“You depleted all my strength, woman. And I didn’t even get to have dessert at your mom’s since you wouldn’t let me. Of course I’m hungry.”
“Yeah, and I still haven’t heard a thank-you yet. So be a dear and fix me something while you’re in the kitchen,” she added, grinning, her good humor somehow restored. How had he done that? With only a few words, he’d brought her from the brink of unhappiness.
He gave her a mock frown…and pushed her off the bed. She tumbled right onto the floor and landed on her ass, gasping and laughing at his audacity.
“You’re up now,” he pointed out. “You can fix us both something.”
“Perhaps I’ll make you cookies, since you missed out on them and all.”
He studied her grin. “You know, if it would have made you smile like this, I would have eaten your mom’s cookies.”
She jumped to her feet and turned away before he could see the moisture that suddenly pooled in her eyes. Look at he
r. Acting like a mushy gushy girl.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked, as if sensing how uncomfortable and unsure she was and wanting to lighten the mood. “Your master has issued his command.”
This playful side of Marcus was…more than she’d ever imagined.
He was constantly surprising her today. First by asking her to have an affair with him, then going to her mother’s, then by coming back to her house, fulfilling her most secret fantasy and sticking around after the loving was done. Now this—sweetness followed by playfulness.
Reaching out, she grabbed the white cotton sheet and jerked it off him. “Get up. If you want to eat, you help fix.”
He didn’t move. “What are we having?”
“Sandwiches.”
“Off each other?” He wiggled his brows. “I bet that’s another fantasy of yours. It is, isn’t it?” He leapt from the bed in a single fluid movement. His penis was growing long and hard.
She stepped back, her heart already racing. “You better keep that thing away from me.” Her blood rushed hot and needy. She should be tired. She should not become aroused so soon after the last time.
“I’ll stay away,” he said, “after I’ve had—”
Ding dong. Bang, bang, bang.
Marcus stilled, frowned. Both of them looked toward the bedroom door, as if they could somehow see outside. Bang, bang, bang.
“Someone’s at your door,” he said.
“I know.” Frowning too, she grabbed her robe from its wall hook and wrapped it around herself. “Stay here,” she said, walking out of the room. She didn’t look back to make sure he obeyed. He was cursing under his breath, though.
Bang, bang, bang. Whoever was out there was determined to get in. Those were hard, fast pounds. A battering of fists. She felt a little panicky at the thought of being caught with Marcus. Maybe she should ignore whoever it was.
“Jillian! Jillian, are you there? Let me in.”
“Georgia?” She quickened her step and jerked open the door. Her best friend stood on the porch. The small light hanging overhead illuminated her. Jillian gasped in shock.
Georgia’s face was red and splotchy from crying, and her hair—Dear God. Her hair. Someone had cut most of it off to the scalp. What wasn’t cut at the scalp hung in chopped locks. Her eyebrows were missing.
“Who did this to you?” she said on a strangled breath. Whoever it was, she’d kill him, take a knife and show the bastard how she liked to cut.
“I did it.” Georgia stormed inside, her entire body shaking.
Wait. What? “You did this to yourself?”
“You have to hide me.” Her green eyes were wild as she surveyed Jillian’s home. “I can’t let him see me like this.”
“Slow down. I’m having trouble understanding you.” Jillian wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders. “Georgia, what’s going on? Why would you do something like this?”
“Don’t let him in, okay?” She spun, leveling Jillian with a frantic gaze. “He’ll come here when he realizes I’m not home.”
“Who?”
Before she could answer, Marcus entered the room, pulling on his shirt. “What’s going on?” he demanded. Then he spotted Georgia. “Dear God.”
Georgia gaped at him. “What’s he doing here?” But a second later, she was sobbing and trying to cover her head with her hands. “Don’t look at me!”
Helpless, Marcus turned his gaze away and faced Jillian.
“I can’t believe this,” Georgia shouted, her voice muffled by the hands still hiding her face. “You’re sleeping with him.”
“Well…” Jillian’s face burned.
“What about his rules? What about the fact that he’s related to the devil? What about him being a gay cross-dresser?”
Jillian met Marcus’s stare, silently begging for help. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. She’d never seen a man look quite so out of his element.
Finally Georgia dropped her hands to her sides. “You know what? Don’t answer. Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re here,” she said on a hysterical laugh, peering hotly at Marcus. “Now I don’t have to worry how you’ll react when you see me at work.”
“I—I—” he said.
“Calm down and tell us what happened,” Jillian insisted.
“Men,” Georgia spat. “That’s what happened. Men!”
Twenty-Two
I hope you know CPR because you take my breath away.
MARCUS was completely out of his comfort zone. Crying women—Lord, he didn’t even stick around when his mother turned on the waterworks. But he didn’t want to leave. Georgia was his employee and he felt strongly compelled to make things right for her.
Actually, he felt strongly compelled to make things right because Jillian wanted them right.
“Georgia,” he began, but pressed his lips together when she whipped around to face him. Her face was swollen and red, her appearance ravaged.
Several tears slid from her watery green eyes and she roughly wiped them away. “You think I’m ugly, don’t you? Well, guess what? I don’t care anymore! If you want to look at me, go ahead. I won’t try and stop you this time.”
“I don’t think you’re ugly,” he answered honestly. There was still something striking about her, even if most wouldn’t see past the crazy hair and missing brows to notice it.
“You’re beautiful,” Jillian cooed. She ran her hand over Georgia’s decimated hair, then patted her back. “You’re still beautiful, sweetie, but you have to tell us exactly what happened.”
“I’ll get us something to drink.” Desperate to escape, Marcus strode into the kitchen and downed two beers, one right after the other. Sanity first. Feeling a little more relaxed, he filled a glass with water. He grabbed the hand towel that was hanging on the oven rail. With a prayer for fortitude, he headed back into the living room and handed both the towel and cup to Jillian.
“Thank you,” she mouthed, dabbing Georgia’s face with one hand and holding the glass to her friend’s mouth with the other. “Sip.”
Georgia pushed the cup away as the story began to pour out of her with a quiet rage that grew with every word. A boyfriend who’d dumped her, wine, a visit from Jillian’s brother, wine, the realization that she didn’t want to pretend to be perfect any more, wine, a pair of scissors.
“I’m sorry about Wyatt,” Jillian said softly.
“I never cared about him, not really. It was always Brent,” Georgia said, shuddering. She laughed bitterly. “We test men everyday and I finally decided to test him and prove that he doesn’t really love me. He made me hope and hope is a terrible thing.”
“Oh, sweetie. There were other, less-damaging ways to ruin your appearance and test him,” Jillian said. “A wig. Makeup. Wash-off skin dye.”
“That would have proven nothing” was the tortured response.
“So why did you do this? I still don’t understand.”
Marcus answered for her. “Desperate people do desperate things, Jillian.”
“I had to know beyond any doubt.” Georgia wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “I wanted to prove him wrong now, before I fell any harder for him.”
He prayed she wouldn’t be sorry later, after Brent saw her. The man might not care about her appearance, but he might take offense at being tested. Marcus shook his head. Bait was never the type to give trust blindly and civilians often couldn’t understand that.
Not knowing what he could say, Marcus plopped onto the recliner, content simply to watch Jillian. Wait. Maybe he should just go home. Hanging around wasn’t something a casual lover did—especially in the midst of an emotional crisis.
“What am I going to do?” Georgia asked on a shuddering breath.
“Well, we’ll get a stylist to fix what’s left of your hair. You’ll be adorable with punk rocker spikes. Don’t worry,” Jillian said, but there was doubt in her voice.
Georgia again wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “What abou
t my missing eyebrows?”
“You can pencil them in. Lots of women do that.”
“Yes, and lots of women look like clowns,” Georgia countered, more than a little hysterical now.
“Your brows will grow back,” Marcus offered when Jillian shot him a pleading look.
“I want to die” was the response. “Just die. Brent’s going to leave me and you’re going to fire me.”
Jillian shook her head. “He’s not going to fire you.”
“Yes, he is.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Yes, he is,” Marcus said firmly, ending their debate.
Both women faced him: Georgia with sad resignation, Jillian with astonishment. He wanted to snatch back his words, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
Jillian uttered a forced laugh. “Now isn’t a good time for jokes, Marcus.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not joking.”
A moment passed before she reacted, as if her mind needed time to process what he’d said. Then anger and disappointment darkened her lovely features. At one time, that anger would have aroused him. Now he felt only a sense of loss. He was beginning to prefer her softer side, the side that kissed and licked him with abandon. The side that whispered sweet, hot things in his ear while he was inside her. The side that asked him to taste between her legs.
“Why?” she demanded.
Marcus tangled a hand through his hair. He hated to do this, especially while Georgia was so broken. But he wouldn’t lie to either of them and he wouldn’t let Georgia carry false hope. That would be crueler than what he was about to say. “There’s not a wife on the planet who would choose her as bait. Everyone in this room knows that.”
Jillian’s eyes narrowed. “I believe I mentioned that she can wear a wig and pencil in her eyebrows.”
Marcus shook his head. “Wives will know,” he said. “Husbands will know, and neither will pick her. They want the fantasy of what they themselves can never be. They want perfection. The real deal.”
“Marcus—”
He cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. “I’m sorry. No matter what you say, my decision will stand. Bait makes money when they’re chosen. I’m not doing this to be cruel. I told you CAM is under financial pressure. We simply can’t afford to employ bait that doesn’t meet our clients’ expectations.” He paused, then added, “Both of you signed a contract before you began working at CAM. Any drastic change in your appearance is grounds for termination.”
Catch a Mate Page 25
