‘Jonas, I don’t care what your relationship was with Yvonne Richards.’ Mac smiled insincerely. ‘I’m just relieved to have the whole sorry mess over and done with.’
His nostrils flared. ‘You’re including our own relationship in that statement?’
‘We don’t have a relationship, Jonas,’ she said flatly.
‘Last night—’
‘We had sex,’ Mac finished coolly. ‘Interesting experience, but, as I told you at the time, one I’m in no particular hurry to repeat!’
Jonas eyed her frustratedly. He had sought her out today with the sole intention of thanking her for her help in regards to the situation with Yvonne, and then leaving without making any further arrangements to ever see or be with her again. That she was making it more than obvious she was just as anxious to be rid of him definitely rankled.
Which was pretty stupid of him! ‘I just wanted to thank you for your help with Yvonne,’ he explained.
‘You could have done that over the telephone.’
‘I wanted to thank you personally.’ His eyes glittered. ‘Besides, you weren’t answering your phone.’
‘I’ve been out all day.’
‘Obviously.’ Jonas looked at her broodingly as she made no answer, knowing he should leave, and that Mac herself was giving him the perfect opportunity to do exactly that. Except…‘So, are you going out anywhere interesting this evening?’ he prompted lightly.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘As I believe I’ve already told you—I’m not answerable to you for any of my actions, Jonas.’
No, and he had never wanted that from any woman, either. Had never asked for exclusivity from any of the women he had dated in the past. But just the thought of Mac going out with another man was enough to cause a red tide of—of what? What emotion was it that was driving him at this moment? Making it necessary for him to know whom she was seeing this evening?
He straightened. ‘I’ll leave you to get ready for your evening out then,’ he bit out, tersely.
Mac’s anger and resentment faded as she looked up at Jonas searchingly and acknowledged the finality she could hear in his tone. ‘So this is finally goodbye, then?’
His mouth tightened. ‘Only if you want it to be.’
Mac’s eyes widened. ‘If I want it to be?’
He shrugged. ‘There’s no reason why the two of us shouldn’t continue to see each other.’
Not for Jonas, perhaps, but for Mac it would be excruciating to see him, be with him as she longed to be, and know that she loved him while all he felt for her was desire. Knowing that once Jonas had completely sated that desire their relationship would come to an end. As all Jonas’s other relationships had ended.
No, Mac’s pride wouldn’t allow her to take the little that he had to give for as long as he chose to give it. Even if her heart squeezed painfully in her chest at the very idea of never seeing or being with him again…
‘Until you got tired of me, you mean?’ she guessed shrewdly.
He gave her a half-smile. ‘Or you tired of me.’
As if that was ever going to happen!
Mac had waited the whole of her twenty-seven years to meet the man she could love. That she did love. It was her misfortune that man happened to be Jonas. A man who didn’t even believe in love, let alone in a happy-ever-after forever!
‘I don’t think so, thank you, Jonas,’ she refused dryly.
He scowled darkly. ‘Why the hell not?’
Mac shook her head. ‘What would be the point? You have your life and I have mine, and the two have absolutely nothing in common.’
Jonas’s jaw was clenched. ‘Except we want each other!’
Mac smiled sadly. ‘Wanting something doesn’t mean it’s good for you.’
His scowl deepened. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
She gave a rueful grimace. ‘It means that I know how much I enjoy chocolate, while at the same time accepting that eating too much of it wouldn’t be good for me.’
‘You’re comparing a relationship with me to eating chocolate?’
‘It was just an example, Jonas,’ she said. ‘What I’m really saying is that ultimately the two of us wouldn’t be good for each other.’
‘We are good together,’ he contradicted, his voice lowering huskily.
‘I said we wouldn’t be good for each other,’ Mac reiterated clearly.
Jonas frowned. ‘You can’t possibly know that.’
Mac gave a humourless smile. ‘Inwardly we both know it, Jonas.’
Yes, inwardly he did know it. Just as he knew Mac was everything that he had always avoided in the women he became involved with. Physically inexperienced and vulnerable. Family orientated. Warm. Emotional.
Most of all emotional!
In essence she represented everything that Jonas didn’t want in his own life.
Yet at the same time, she was everything he did want…
He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Admittedly, I can’t give you romance and flowers, but—’
‘I don’t remember ever saying I wanted romance and flowers from you!’ she cut in indignantly.
Jonas eyed her intently. ‘Then what do you want, Mac?’ he asked bluntly.
‘From you?’ she asked shortly. ‘Nothing.’
‘I doubt you would be this…angry, if it was nothing,’ Jonas drawled ruefully.
‘I’m not in the least angry, Jonas.’ Mac sighed. ‘At least, not with you.’
‘Then who?’
She shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Try me,’ he invited huskily.
Mac gave a huff of laughter. ‘We simply don’t look at things the same way, Jonas.’
‘Concerning what exactly?’
She almost smiled at the sudden wariness in his expression.
‘Concerning everything that matters,’ she elaborated. ‘I don’t need that romance and flowers that you mentioned but I do want my relationships to matter. I want to matter!’
‘Didn’t our lovemaking last night prove that you matter?’ he asked.
Mac gave him a pitying glance. ‘Last night proved only that you’re physically attracted to me.’
‘Don’t all relationships start that way?’
‘All your relationships certainly start and end that way! As any relationship with me would too,’ she added quietly.
‘You can’t know that—’
‘We both know that, Jonas,’ she said wearily.
He couldn’t let this go. ‘You’re making assumptions—’
‘I’m being realistic,’ Mac corrected firmly. ‘I really don’t want to have an affair with you, Jonas,’ she stated honestly.
His mouth twisted. ‘Why don’t you just come right out and say that you’re holding out for the whole pack-age? Love and romance, followed by marriage?’
Mac felt the warmth in her cheek. ‘I’m “holding out”, as you put it, for exactly what you said I should hold out for last week—the right man to come along.’
‘And obviously that isn’t me!’
She swallowed down the sick feeling that had risen in her throat. ‘Obviously, that isn’t you. Don’t you see, Jonas, you’ve allowed your childhood experiences to colour the rest of your life? To damage you rather than anyone else?’
‘Are you a psychiatrist too now?’ he sneered.
‘No, of course not.’ She sighed. ‘I just think—you’ll never be able to function emotionally until you confront the problem you have with your parents.’
‘Forgiveness and all that?’ he scorned.
‘Yes,’ she stated.
Jonas stared down at her for long, timeless seconds before breaking that gaze to glance up at the warehouse. ‘Have you given any more thought to selling out to Buchanan Construction?’
Mac was thrown for a minute by the sudden change of subject. But only for a minute. ‘None at all,’ she said definitely.
‘Because it isn’t going to happen,’ Jonas guessed easily.
Mac’s
chin rose challengingly. ‘No.’
Which left Jonas and Buchanan Construction in something of a dilemma. The same dilemma, in fact, that Jonas had been in when he first met Mac over a week ago…
‘That’s your final word on that subject, too?’
‘Absolutely my final word, yes.’ She nodded.
Jonas drew in a harsh breath. ‘Fine,’ he said.
Mac eyed him uncertainly. ‘Does that mean you accept my decision?’
He raised dark brows. ‘What other choice do I have?’
None as far as Mac was concerned. ‘You seemed so—determined to get me out of here a week ago…’
Jonas’s smile was as lacking in humour as her own had been a few minutes ago. ‘That was before Yvonne started her sick little game.’
‘Oh.’
‘And before I knew you…’ Jonas added softly.
Before Jonas knew her? Or before he ‘knew’ her in the physical sense?
Did it really matter which, as long as he accepted that she wasn’t going to sell the warehouse?
Mac straightened. ‘I really do have to go now, Jonas.’
His expression was remote, those eyes a cold, remorseless blue as he nodded. ‘Have a pleasant evening.’
Have a pleasant life, he might as well have said, Mac realised achingly.
Because she knew that after today he wanted no part of her or her life. Just as she knew it wasn’t specifically her he wanted no part of; it was simply that the very idea of emotional entanglement with anyone was complete anathema to him.
Mac couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to live without love in your life. The love of parents. Of family. Of friends. Of that certain special someone that you loved and who loved you.
Although, after today, Mac was going to have to learn to live without the last one herself…
‘You too,’ she muttered before turning and hurrying up the staircase, her hand shaking slightly as she unlocked the door before going quickly inside and closing it firmly behind her.
Without hesitation.
Without so much as a single backward glance.
Because she dared not look at him again. Knowing that if she did she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from launching herself into his arms and agreeing to continue their relationship—that emotionless relationship that was all Jonas could ever give any woman—to its painful conclusion…
Mac lingered only long enough on this floor to drop her keys and helmet on the breakfast bar before hurrying over to switch on the lights to the floor above and ascending the spiral staircase up to her studio.
The canvas she had been working on the last few days still stood on the easel near the glassed wall, the thin cloth Mac had placed over it when she’d brought Jonas up here yesterday evening still in place. After last night she had stayed well away from her studio today, reluctant to see—to be—where the memories of that lovemaking with Jonas were so strong.
Mac crossed the room slowly now to stare at that blank cloth for several seconds before reaching out and removing it.
The background of the painting was there already in shades of blue, but the focus of the painting was only a pencilled sketch at the moment. Strong, abstract lines that nevertheless caught perfectly the wide brow, intensity of light-coloured eyes, high cheekbones either side of an aristocratic slash of a nose, and the mouth sculptured above that square and determined jaw.
Jonas.
Mac rarely painted portraits, and had no idea why she had felt compelled to do this one of him when those hard and handsome features were already etched deep, and for ever, into her soul. As was the love she felt for him.
Painfully.
Irrevocably.
Tears filled Mac’s eyes as she continued to stare at that hard and beautiful face on the canvas.
And she wondered what she was going to do with this portrait of Jonas once it was finished.
Chapter Thirteen
‘COME on, Dad, if you don’t hurry we’re going to be late,’ Mac encouraged her father laughingly as the family gathered in the hallway of her parents’ bungalow on Christmas Eve to put on their warm coats and hats and scarves in preparation for going out into the cold and snowy evening. ‘And you know how Mum hates to be late—’ Mac abruptly broke off her teasing as she opened the front door and saw the person standing outside on the doorstep, one of his gloved hands raised as he prepared to ring the doorbell.
Oh, my God, it was Jonas!
Mac felt the colour drain from her face beneath the red woollen hat she wore. Totally stunned as she stared up searchingly into the grimness of Jonas’s face. At the scowl between his brows, the guarded blue of his gaze as it met hers, his mouth and jaw set challengingly.
What on earth was he doing here, of all places?
‘Jonas.’ Mac’s gloved fingers tightened painfully on the door as she moistened dry and slightly numbed lips.
He gave a slight inclination of his head before glancing at the people crowding the hallway behind her. ‘I realise you weren’t expecting me but—am I in time to join you all at church?’ he asked huskily.
‘I—yes. Of course,’ Mac answered haltingly, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of Jonas being here at all.
Apart from the man sent by ‘the boss’ to collect her Jeep and have the windows repaired almost two weeks ago, Mac hadn’t seen or heard from Jonas. Nothing. No telephone calls. No sitting on her metal staircase waiting for her to come home. Just an empty…nothing.
If it hadn’t been for the continuous ache in her heart, and the vivid memories she had of their lovemaking, Mac might almost have thought that she had imagined him!
Or perhaps she was just imagining he was here now?
Hallucinating might be a better description!
After all, Jonas was sitting on a beach somewhere on a Caribbean island drinking tall drinks adorned with fruit and pretty coloured-paper umbrellas, possibly with a beautiful blonde at his side. Wasn’t he?
‘Get a move on, darling, or we’re—Oh.’ Mac’s mother came to an abrupt halt beside her to stare up at Jonas with open curiosity.
Not a hallucination, then, Mac acknowledged with a nervous fluttering in her stomach. Jonas really was standing on the doorstep of her parents’ bungalow at eleven o’clock at night on Christmas Eve!
The look of total disbelief on Mac’s expressive face when she had opened the door and found him standing there might have been amusing if Jonas weren’t already feeling so totally wrong-footed himself. If he hadn’t already been deeply regretting his decision to come to Devon with the stupid idea of surprising her. But as he was feeling both those things he didn’t find that look of embarrassed horror on Mac’s face in the least reassuring!
‘Mrs McGuire.’ He extended his hand politely to the woman who, with her short bob of glossy black hair and smoky-grey eyes, bore such a startling resemblance to Mac that she couldn’t possibly be anyone else but her mother. ‘Jonas Buchanan,’ he explained. ‘I hope you don’t mind my just turning up like this and joining you all for Midnight Mass? I’m—’
‘A friend of mine from London,’ Mac put in quickly as she moved to stand at Jonas’s side before turning to face her family, linking her arm lightly with his as she did so, and looking very festive in a long white overcoat over a red sweater and black jeans. ‘I’m so glad you could make it, after all, Jonas,’ she assured huskily. ‘Mum, Dad, this is Jonas Buchanan. Jonas, my parents, Melly and Brian.’
To give the two elder McGuires their due, they showed no surprise at finding a complete stranger standing on their doorstep at eleven o’clock at night on Christmas Eve, the tall and still-handsome grey-haired Brian moving forward to shake Jonas’s hand warmly. ‘The more the merrier,’ he assured with genuine heartiness. ‘I’m afraid we’re already late so we’ll have to make all the other introductions later,’ he added with a rueful smile at the numerous members of Mac’s family milling about in the hallway obviously ready to leave for church.
�
�I can take three other people as well as Mac in my car if that’s of any help,’ Jonas offered smoothly as Mac’s family tumbled outside into the snowy night.
‘Perfect,’ the beautiful Melly McGuire accepted warmly. ‘I won’t have to drive the second car now and can have a glass of mulled wine with my mince pie after the service!’
Jonas was preoccupied for the next few minutes helping Mac settle three of her elderly aunts into the back of his car, but conscious all of that time of her puzzled gaze as it rested on him often.
Mac paused out on the icy road. ‘Jonas, why aren’t you sitting on a beach somewhere on that Caribbean island?’ she prompted softly.
Good question.
One that Jonas felt required the two of them being alone when he answered it…
‘Never mind,’ Mac dismissed as she saw Jonas’s hesitation. ‘All that matters is you’re here.’
He winced slightly. ‘Is it?’
‘Yes,’ Mac answered firmly as she saw that her father had already reversed his car out onto the road and was waiting to leave. ‘We had better go,’ she said ruefully as she moved to sit in the passenger seat of Jonas’s black Mercedes.
Surrounded as they were by so many members of Mac’s family, there was absolutely no opportunity for a private conversation between the two of them as they drove the short distance into the village itself, attended the service in the church surrounded by berry-adorned holly and lit by dozens of candles, and then lingered afterwards to chat and enjoy that anticipated mulled wine and those mince pies.
But that didn’t mean that Mac wasn’t aware of Jonas’s presence at her side for that whole time. That she didn’t burn with curiosity to know why he was here. And if he intended staying. That her initial uncertainty at seeing him again hadn’t begun to turn to hope…
That uncertainty returned with a vengeance once she and Jonas were finally alone in the sitting-room of her parents’ bungalow a little after one o’clock in the morning, the rest of Mac’s family having gone to bed. Her mother had already offered the suggestion, ‘The small boxroom is empty if Jonas would like to stay for the rest of the Christmas holiday…’
His Christmas Virgin Page 14
