In Bed with the Devil / High-Society Mistress. Katherine Garbera
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day,” she told Jack. “I think about him and wish he were here. Do you think about him much?”
Jack’s expression closed and he turned away. “No. I don’t think about him at all.”
She knew he couldn’t be telling the truth. He and Hunter had been close for a long time. They’d been like brothers. Jack couldn’t have forgotten that.
Her instinct to be compassionate battled with her annoyance. Temper won.
“Most people improve with age,” she said. “Too bad you didn’t. You not only break your word but you’re a liar, as well.”
Three
Jack spent a couple of hours in the loft office, working. He called his assistant back in Dallas.
“They’re building more roads in Afghanistan,” Bobbi Sue told him. “They’re looking at maybe an eighteen-month contract, but we all know those things take longer. And Sister Helena called. They want to take in another convoy of medical supplies.”
His business provided protection in dangerous parts of the world. His teams allowed building crews to get their jobs done and get out. The work was dangerous, often a logistical nightmare and extremely expensive. His corporate clients paid well for what they got.
The corporate profits were channeled into funding protection for those providing relief efforts in places often forgotten. He’d grown up in the shadow of the Howington Foundation, a philanthropic trust that helped the poor. Jack hated having a number after his name and had vowed he would make his own way.
He had. He’d grown his company from nothing, but he couldn’t seem to escape that damn sense of duty. The one that told him he needed to use his profits for something other than a flashy lifestyle.
His critics said he could afford to be generous—he had a trust fund worth nearly a billion dollars. What they didn’t know is he never touched it. Another vow he’d made to himself. He’d grown up with something to prove. The question was whether or not he would have achieved enough to let that need go.
“Get Ron on the contract,” Jack told his assistant. “The usual clauses. Tell Sister Helena to e-mail the best dates for the convoy and we’ll get as close to them as possible.”
“She’s going to want to leave before you’re back from your vacation in Tahoe.”
“I’m not on vacation.”
“Hmm, a month in a fancy house with nothing to do with your time? Sounds like a vacation to me.”
“I’m working.”
“Talk, talk, talk.”
Bobbi Sue had attitude, which he put up with because she was the best at her job. She was also old enough to be his mother, a fact she mentioned on a regular basis, especially when she hounded him on the topic of settling down.
“Someone else will have to take Sister Helena’s team in,” he said. “See if Wade’s available.” Wade was one of his best guys.
“Will do. Anything else?”
“Not from my end.”
“You know, I looked up Hunter’s Landing on the Internet, and the place you’re staying isn’t that far from the casinos.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“So you should go. Gamble, talk to some people. You spend too much time alone.”
He thought about Meri, sleeping in the room next to his. “Not anymore.”
“Does that mean you’re seeing someone?”
“No.”
“You need to get married.”
“You need to get off me.”
Bobbi Sue sighed. “All right, but just in the short term.”
Jack hung up. He glanced at his computer, but for once he didn’t want to work. He paced the length of the spacious bedroom, ignoring the fireplace, the view and the television. Then he went downstairs to confront the woman who seemed determined to think the worst of him.
Not that he cared what she thought. But this wasn’t about her—it was about Hunter.
He found Meri in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, eating ice cream out of a pint-size container.
“Lunch?” he asked as he entered the room.
“Sort of. Not exactly high in nutrition, but I’m more interested in sugar and fat right now.”
He stared at her miniature spoon. “That’s an interesting size.”
She waved the tiny utensil. “It’s my ice-cream-eating spoon. I try to avoid using food as an emotional crutch, but sometimes ice cream is the only solution. I use this spoon because it takes longer to eat and I have a better chance of getting disgusted with myself and stopping before finishing the pint. A trick for keeping off the weight. I have a thousand of them.”
“This situation required ice cream?”
She licked the spoon. He did his best to ignore the flick of her tongue and the sigh that followed, along with the rush of unwelcome heat in his body.
“You pissed me off,” she told him.
Translation: he’d hurt her. Hunter was her brother. She wouldn’t want to think his friends had forgotten him.
He leaned against the counter as he considered what to do. His natural inclination was to walk away. Her feelings didn’t matter to him. At least they shouldn’t. But this was Meri, and he was supposed to be looking out for her. Which meant not making a bad situation worse.
Maybe a small concession was in order. “I don’t want to think about Hunter,” he admitted. “I’ve trained myself not to. But he’s there. All the time.”
She eyed him. “Why should I believe you?”
“I don’t care if you do.”
She surprised him by smiling. “Okay. I like that answer. If you’d tried to convince me, I would have known you were just placating me. But your stick-up-the-butt attitude is honest.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.”
He frowned. Had she always been this irritating?
“You getting much work done?” she asked as she checked her watch. “I’m not. There’s so much going on right now and I really need to focus. But it’s tough. Being here, seducing you—it’s a full time job.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “You need to let that go.”
“The seduction part? I don’t think so. I’m making progress. You’re going on the defensive. What happened in the gym was definitely about taking charge. So that means I’m getting to you.” She held out the ice cream container. “Want some, big guy?”
She was mocking him. She was irreverent and fearless and determined. All good qualities, but not in this situation. She was right. He wanted to get control. And he could think of only one way to do that.
He moved close and took the ice cream from her. After setting it and the spoon on the counter, he cupped her face and kissed her.
He took rather than asked. He claimed her with his lips, branding her skin with his own. He leaned in, crowding her, showing her that she hadn’t thought her plan through.
She stiffened slightly and gasped in surprise. He took advantage of the moment and plunged his tongue into her mouth.
She was cool from the ice cream, cool with a hint of fire. She tasted of chocolate and something that had to be her own erotic essence. He ignored the softness of her skin, the sensual feel of her mouth and the heat that poured through him.
She pulled