Mazie had to live with the knowledge that she had done something extremely foolhardy. Self-destructive even.
Circumstances had saved her from the ultimate humiliation.
She didn’t have to face J.B. as an ex-lover. Thank God for that.
But the unseen damage was worse, perhaps.
Now she knew what it felt like to be in his arms, to hear him whisper her name in a ragged groan that sent shivers of raw pleasure down her spine. Tonight when she climbed into bed, she would remember his hands on her breasts, her bare body, her sex.
How could she think about anything else?
Five
Even now, her hands trembled as she dried herself with a huge fluffy towel that smelled of sunshine and ocean breezes. The housekeeper liked pinning the laundry on an old-fashioned clothesline when weather permitted.
Mazie put on soft, faded jeans and a periwinkle cashmere sweater with a scoop neck. A short strand of pearls that had been her mother’s dressed up the outfit enough to meet her father’s old-school dinner requirements.
Sooner or later, J.B. would call about the property swap. She would have to speak to him as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. And she would have to give him an answer.
His offer was generous. There was no denying the truth.
But she didn’t want to give him what he wanted.
Though it was childish and petty on her part, something inside her wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. For J.B., that meant she needed to hurt his business. She was certain he didn’t have a heart or real emotions. All he cared about was stacking up more money and more accolades for his financial acumen.
If he really cared about her, he’d had plenty of years to make up for the past. But he hadn’t.
At last, she could delay no longer. The sun had set in a blaze of glory, and darkness had fallen over the island. She heard a car in the driveway and recognized her brother’s voice as it floated up from the foyer.
This mess with J.B. would have to wait.
She had time. Time to come up with a plan. When she saw him again, she wanted to be in control.
Passionless.
Absolutely calm.
There was a very good chance he had used their interlude in the vault to sway her to his side. Though he had not instigated the encounter, he was intuitive and fiercely intelligent. If he had sensed her weakness where he was concerned, he wouldn’t have hesitated to use it against her. Nor would he in the future.
She had to be on her guard. She couldn’t let her vulnerabilities where J.B. was concerned fool her into thinking he might really care about her.
Troubled and unsettled, she made her way downstairs. Jonathan might quiz her about the incident earlier in the day when she and J.B. had been trapped, but her father would be oblivious. If the subject came up, she would steer the conversation in a safer direction.
She walked into the dining room, ruefully aware that as usual, the full complement of china and silver and crystal adorned the table. A low arrangement of red roses and holly nestled in a Waterford bowl. Despite the fact that there were only three of them, the Tarletons would dine in style.
Grimacing inwardly, she stopped short when she saw the fourth place setting.
“Who’s coming to dinner?” she asked Jonathan, a dreadful premonition already shaking her foundations.
Behind her, a familiar velvet-smooth voice replied.
“It’s me,” J.B. said. “I hope you don’t mind another mouth to feed.”
* * *
J.B. was accustomed to women’s flirtatious maneuvers and their attempts to secure his attention. Rarely had he seen a woman with an expression on her face like Mazie’s. She recovered quickly, but for a split second, she was startled, her unguarded look revealing a mixture of dismay and sensual awareness.
He’d be lying if he said the dismay didn’t puncture his ego. Nevertheless, he kept his smile.
Mazie circled the room, keeping the dinner table between them. “Of course not. This is my father’s house. There’s always room for one more.”
Gerald and Jonathan sat at the head and foot of the table, leaving J.B. and Mazie to face each other from opposite sides. Just for the hell of it, he moved quickly to hold out Mazie’s chair as she took her seat. At the last moment, he unobtrusively brushed the side of her neck with a fleeting touch.
He was almost positive she inhaled a sharp breath, but Gerald was talking in a loud voice, so J.B. couldn’t be sure. When the four of them were in place, the housekeeper brought out the first course.
By any culinary standards, it was an amazing meal. The Tarletons’ cook was more akin to a chef, and she specialized in Lowcountry dishes that included the best of Charleston’s local seafood. Tonight’s offering was shrimp and grits with a Caesar salad on the side. J.B. was hungry, so he ate well.
But simmering beneath the surface of the lively conversation was the knowledge that Mazie never once looked him straight in the eye. Nor did she address a single comment directly to him. Her behavior was frustrating.
Things were different between them now...whether Mazie liked it or not.
While J.B. nursed his growing indignation, Gerald Tarleton dominated the evening’s debate. Despite his declining health, he continued to go into work every day. He and Jonathan commanded a vast shipping empire that had made the family even more wealthy than it had been in the early days when Gerald took over the reins from his father.
At one point, J.B. caught his host’s attention. “Mr. Tarleton, my dad wanted me to extend an invitation. He’d love to take you out deep-sea fishing on his new boat.”
Gerald shook his head, sipping his wine and for a moment looking oddly fragile. “Tell him thanks, boy. But I don’t get out and about much anymore. These old bones give me fits. And call me Gerald. You’re not a kid anymore.”
“The boat is a honey, Gerald. Almost as comfortable as my own house. The crew would pamper you. Think about it, why don’t you? Dad respects you a great deal. I know it would tickle him to have a chance to pick your brain about business.”
Gerald’s pleased expression told J.B. that he had made inroads into the old man’s instinctive refusal.
J.B. turned his attention to Mazie. “What about you, Mazie Jane? I seem to recall that you like to fish. We could make a party of it.” He tried to get a rise out of her. Mazie had always hated her full name, because she thought it was too old-fashioned.
She choked on a bite of shrimp. Had to dab her mouth with a napkin before she could answer.
“Sounds fun,” she said, clearly lying. “If I can find a free Saturday, I’ll let you know.”
Her Saturdays would be free when hell froze over. That much J.B. knew.
She was blowing him off, and none too subtly. Her evasion brought out his fighting instincts.
Jonathan’s cell phone buzzed. He pulled it from his jacket pocket, gave his three companions an apologetic look and stood. “I have to deal with this. Sorry to interrupt the meal.”
Cook spirited his plate away to keep the food warm.
Now it was only J.B., Mazie and an elderly man who was already nodding off, his chin on his chest.
J.B. crooked a finger. “I need to speak to you,” he whispered. “In private.” He motioned toward the door that led to the covered veranda.
Mazie glanced at her father and then at her plate. “I’m eating.”
“This won’t take long.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“But I have things to say to you,” he said firmly. “Or I can wait until your brother returns, and he can hear it all.”
“You’re a bully,” she said, but she rose to her feet. “Make this quick.”
Quietly, they stepped outside onto the porch and closed the door behind them.
Mazie wrapped her arm
s around her waist. “What?” she asked. “What’s so damned important?”
“I want to know why you’re looking at me like gum you scraped off the bottom of your shoe.”
“I’m not,” she said, backing away from him half a step.
“Yes. You are. I’m not an idiot. This morning you and I were—”
She shoved a hand against his chest, halting his words in midsentence. “Stop it. Right there. This morning was a mistake.” Then she backed up again, almost as if she were afraid to let herself get too close to him.
He lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t enjoy yourself?”
“That’s beside the point. It shouldn’t have happened. And it won’t again.”
He chewed on that for a moment. “What are you afraid of, honey?”
Her eyes flashed. “Typical male response. If a woman doesn’t want you, she must be afraid. That’s bull crap, J.B.”
“No,” he said, trying his best to tamp down his anger and frustration. “What’s bull crap is you trying to pretend that something extraordinary didn’t happen between us today...” He hesitated, unwilling to give her ammunition, but itching to get at the truth. “That kind of connection is rare, Mazie.”
She stared at him, eyes wide, posture shouting her unease. “I bet you use that line with a lot of women. You have a reputation, you know.”
It was true. He couldn’t deny it.
But her wariness went much farther back than that. Yes, he dated plenty of women. Mazie had made her judgments about him a long time ago, though.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he said.
“Why? So you can badger me about my property?”
“Would you rather call it a date?”
He had boxed her into a momentary corner. Even as a child, Mazie never backed down from a dare. Now, he used that knowledge against her.
She lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll meet you for a business dinner.”
“I’ll pick you up instead.”
“Something casual.”
“I’m taking you to Étoile de Mer.”
“Absolutely not.”
The French restaurant was intimate and extremely formal. In a century and a city that welcomed tourists in virtually any state of dress, Étoile de Mer maintained the old standards. Men in dinner jackets. Women in long dresses. Dancing beneath an antique Baccarat chandelier. The ambiance was unapologetically romantic and luxurious.
He smiled cajolingly. “It’s December, Mazie. Jonathan talks about how much you enjoy the season. The hotel will be decorated to the nines. And Chef Marchon has a special holiday menu. The orchestra will play Christmas songs. Say yes. We’ll have fun.”
A tiny smile lifted the edges of her lips. “Do you always get your way?”
“Most of the time.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
He frowned. “I want to spend time with you. Is that so strange?” It was strange. And unprecedented. Both of them knew it. He was supposed to be closing a business deal, not chasing an attraction that could burn them both and end very badly.
He was her brother’s best friend. It wasn’t as if he could walk away and never see her again.
Her wariness was almost palpable. “I won’t give you an answer about selling my property for a couple of weeks. I need time to think it over, to discuss the big picture with Gina. To decide how complicated it would be to move the store. If you’re hoping to wine and dine me tomorrow night, so I’ll be all mellow and sign on the dotted line, that’s not going to happen.”
“What if I said this wasn’t about business at all?”
The words slipped out before he could snatch them back. To be honest, he hadn’t known he was going to say something so revealing.
She put a hand to her throat, nervously playing with the strand of pearls. The necklace was nice, but if he had his way, the pearls would be an entire rope, and he would drape them around her neck while they were in bed.
Mazie made no move to break the silence, so he rephrased the question. “What if I swear that tomorrow night will be entirely personal?”
“You’re scaring me.”
She said it with humor, but he took her words at face value. “Nothing scary, Mazie. Nothing at all. Just two friends enjoying dinner.” He was lying through his teeth. This was about much more than dinner. He was courting danger.
“If this is about what happened in the vault, I have to tell you that I’m not usually so...”
Her wrinkled nose and wry embarrassment touched him. “You were incredible. I’ve had a hard-on the entire damn day.”
“J.B.!”
Her mortified expression made him chuckle. “I get it, Mazie. You’re telling me not to expect anything after dinner. That I get my dessert at the restaurant and not in my bed.”
“You make me sound naive and ridiculous.”
“You’re neither of those things. But I’d be lying if I said you didn’t shock me this morning. Hell, Mazie. I guess I’ve had sex a little more than you have, but you and me today...” He leaned against the porch railing and stared out at the ocean. The sound of the waves usually soothed him. Not tonight.
“What about us?”
There was a world of feminine emotion wrapped up in those three little words. Asking for reassurance.
“We connected,” he muttered.
He didn’t know how else to explain it. He couldn’t even make sense of it himself. Was he headed down a familiar road? Letting sexual attraction drag him into a relationship that was doomed to failure?
“We should go back inside,” she said quietly. “Jonathan will wonder where we are.”
Something clicked. “Is Jonathan part of the problem? Are you worried about what your brother will think?”
“I don’t want to cause discord between the two of you.”
“Leave that to me.” He sounded more confident than he felt.
Jonathan was likely to punch him, at the very least, if he found out J.B. was dallying with his baby sister. After all, Jonathan was partly to blame for the fact that Mazie had held a grudge against J.B. for so long.
“Daddy’s awake,” Mazie said. “I can see him waving his arms. Probably bossing the cook. Let’s go in.”
J.B. took her wrist, holding it lightly, needing to touch her, but not wanting to spook her. “I want to kiss you again.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Pretty badly. Just a kiss, Mazie. That’s all.”
Slowly, waiting for her to lean in and exhaling on a sigh of relief when she did, he drew her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She was tall for a woman. Their heights matched perfectly.
She was soft and warm. He buried his face in her neck, dragging oxygen into his lungs. Reminding himself he wasn’t a horny teenager. He could control his emotions and his body.
When his mouth found hers, she murmured his name. Hearing her say it, all low and husky like that, made him nuts. He tangled a hand in her hair and deepened the kiss.
He hadn’t imagined it. The fire. The wanting.
Whatever happened with Mazie in that bank vault this morning had nothing to do with his claustrophobia or a stress-induced jolt of adrenaline from being trapped.
It was all Mazie.
Now, she kissed him back. Unmistakably. When he would have pulled away, her hands clung to his shoulders, and she pressed against him. His erection was hard and heavy between them. Nothing he could do about that.
“Mazie,” he croaked, trying to back away from the edge of insanity. “We need to go back inside. You said so. You’re right.”
“Don’t listen to me,” she said, unbuttoning a button on his shirt and stroking his collarbone.
The little tease was tormenting him on purpose.
He dragged her with
him to a less exposed section of the veranda, around the corner of the house. This was not the time for Jonathan to burst through the doorway and find his sister in a compromising position.
“Enough,” J.B. begged, wondering when exactly he had lost the upper hand. He batted her hand away and rebuttoned his shirt. “Say yes to tomorrow night. It’s the only answer I’ll accept.”
She smiled up at him, her eyelids heavy, her lower lip plump and shiny where he had sucked on it. “Yes.”
Something inside him settled. “And you’ll wear a kick-ass dress so I can make all the other men jealous?”
“I want to dance with you,” she said. “If we’re going all out for this date, I’ll expect dancing.”
“Duly noted.”
“And expensive champagne. Maybe even caviar.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I still don’t know why we’re doing this,” she said, the humor fading from her voice. “It seems awfully dangerous. Southern mamas warn their daughters about men like you.”
He rubbed his thumb over her cheek, cupping her face. “You should have had a mother, Mazie. I’m sorry about all you lost.”
She pulled away from him as if the sudden switch to a serious topic was more than she could bear.
Though her back was to him now, he saw her shrug. “I was luckier than most kids. My father indulged me.”
Sliding his arms around her from behind, he rested his chin on top of her head. “It’s easy to do. I have the same tendency myself.”
“Which doesn’t explain why you’re trying to steal my livelihood.”
He snorted. “Cut the drama. Besides, we’re shelving the business negotiations for now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
It was getting more and more difficult to tell himself that this new détente with Mazie was all about business.
She turned around and looked up at him. “We don’t always get what we want, J.B.”
Six
Mazie wanted another kiss. But she knew her limits. Already she was playing with fire. Common sense was no match for the beat of her heart and the yearning in her blood.
Blame It On Christmas (Southern Secrets Series Book 1) Page 5
