Книга - How To Succeed At Love

How To Succeed At Love
Susan Connell


DATELESS AND DISTRESSED Jade Macleod had been dumped by her boyfriend, fired from her important job… and her high-school reunion was days away! The girl voted "Most Likely to Succeed" was preparing to show up as a total loser… until sexy stranger Spencer Madison agreed to help her out - just for the night.SEXY BUT SUSPICIOUS But Spencer was really a reporter after a story, and he'd decided the information only Jade could give him was just a dance in the high-school gym away. But her unexpected success at making him throb all over was distracting. And soon Spencer also wanted to be the most likely to succeed - at luring Jade into his bed! THE GIRLS MOST LIKELY TO… Three high-school friends are now all grown up… and they've exceeded everyone's expectations in life - and in love!







“An Affair In The Workplace Is Never A Smart Move,” Spencer Said. (#ub107ed11-8f7a-54ef-a7b0-a9873ac5767d)Letter to Reader (#u46f5a29b-572f-55b8-93e5-913ce362e8ba)Title Page (#u97492fbf-a520-5840-a020-54a3737f5b42)SUSAN CONNELL (#u4bb6fca1-ed2d-5114-9423-abb7e54592d9)Dedication (#u1e1c433f-6d43-51b0-a121-5b156a381f4f)Chapter One (#uf1bd1294-6a4b-5c2d-8299-5ba918c7df1f)Chapter Two (#uc544cb61-59aa-510a-a9fe-d07d90909f09)Chapter Three (#ucba3c881-8b73-5f5d-a63f-c7e59829cba8)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


“An Affair In The Workplace Is Never A Smart Move,” Spencer Said.

“People are asking for problems when they allow that sort of thing to happen.”

He paused to see if Jade was listening.

“Once you start making eyes at someone, it’s only a matter of time before things get out of hand and you’re getting caught between the filing cabinets. Then it’s—”

“But we don’t work together.” She turned around to face him. “And what’s more, you’re not my type. So I most certainly could not imagine us making love on top of a desk.”

“Who said anything about making love on top of a desk?”

“You just did. You said—” The unfinished sentence hung in the air, and her flushed face deepened to scarlet.

Spencer didn’t bother correcting her. They both knew she’d realized her mistake and was paying dearly for it. And besides that, he was too busy watching her perfectly pouty lips parting in shock.

Or was it something else? That one-of-a-kind something that both of them had been fighting...


Dear Reader,

There’s something for everyone this month! Brides, babies and cowboys...but also humor, sensuality...and delicious love stories (some without a baby in sight!).

There’s nothing as wonderful as a new book from Barbara Boswell, and this month we have a MAN OF THE MONTH written by this talented author. Who’s the Boss? is a very sexy, delightfully funny love story. As always, Barbara not only creates a masterful hero and smart-as-a-whip heroine, she also makes her secondary characters come alive!

When a pregnant woman gets stuck in a traffic jam she does the only thing she can do—talks a handsome hunk into giving her a ride to the hospital on his motorcycle in Leanne Banks’s latest, The Troublemaker Bride.

Have you ever wanted to marry a millionaire? Well, heroine Irish Ellison plans on finding a man with money in One Ticket to Texas by Jan Hudson. A single mom-to-be gets a new life in Paula Detmer Riggs’s emotional and heartwarming Daddy by Accident. And a woman with a “bad reputation” finds unexpected romance in Barbara McMahon’s Boss Lady and the Hired Hand.

Going to your high-school reunion is bad enough. But what if you were voted “Most likely to succeed”...but your success at love has been fleeting? Well, that’s just what happens in Susan Connell’s How To Succeed at Love. So read...and enjoy!






Lucia Macro

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3


How to Succeed at Love

Susan Connell






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


SUSAN CONNELL

has a love of traveling that has taken her all over the world—Greece, Spain, Portugal, Central and South America, to name just a few places. While working for the foreign service she met a U.S. Navy pilot, and eight days later they were engaged. Twenty-one years and several moves later, Susan, her husband, Jim, and daughter, Catherine, call the New Jersey shore home. When she’s not writing, her part-time job at a local bookstore, Mediterranean cooking and traveling with her family are some of her favorite activities. Susan has been honored by New Jersey Romance Writers with their coveted Golden Leaf Award. She loves hearing from her readers.


Jim Connell, Cathy Connell,

Candace Cowdrick and Roger Cohen

For your expertise, sense of

humor and unfailing support.


One

“Smoochie?”

The baritone voice came from inches away, but as far as Jade Macleod was concerned, the sound could have been from Mars.

Was she losing her mind? Did someone just offer her a kiss? Or was this an auditory hallucination brought on by stress? Pressing her hand against the front of her gray, pin-striped business suit, she cautiously turned away from the train window to the man sitting beside her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Smoochie?” he repeated, giving her a lopsided grin that made her forget to breathe. He lowered his thick, dark lashes toward the foil-wrapped chocolate in his hand then back to her. “You look as if you could use one.”

With everything she had to think about, it should have been easy to turn away. But the inviting combination of a handsome hunk with a funny line and her favorite brand of chocolate was making her mouth water. She swallowed; she’d never felt such deprivation in all of her twenty-eight years. And that trust-me twinkle in his big blue eyes wasn’t helping. Then again, this was not a big decision.

Jade slowly brushed her fingers through her bangs. As she resettled the curvy, red locks on her forehead, her stare shifted to his trim, broad-shouldered body. He moved his hand closer to hers, causing her gaze to skim down to the candy before settling on his hand. The kind of hand that inspired thoughts of strength, reliability and gentle touches in the moonlight.

His corded wrists and muscled forearms were covered in a light sprinkling of hair all the way to where the pushed-up sleeves of his sweater bunched at his elbows. Her gaze drifted to his lap. His well-worn jeans defined every muscle, every angle and everything else within the masculine sprawl of his long legs. The same long legs that had been casually bumping against hers in time with the rhythmic swaying of the train car. Blinking, she moved her leg away from his and looked up.

His knowing and riveting stare was there to meet hers. Her lips parted in astonishment. What was she doing staring at his body like that? A plague of problems had descended on both her professional world and her personal world. She had major decisions to make. The last thing she should be thinking about was taking candy from a stranger.

“No, thank you.”

“Spence. Spencer Madison,” he said, peeling back the foil and popping the candy in his mouth. “Remember?”

Nodding, she watched him lick dark chocolate from his thumb. How could she forget his name when he’d introduced himself shortly after claiming the seat next to hers three hours ago? Since they’d left Washington, he’d succeeded in telling her a dozen other facts about himself, too. None of which she’d asked for. All of which, surprisingly, she remembered. Especially that he would be around Follett River for the next few weeks working on his novel.

She dropped her head back on the seat. She had phone calls to make, a résumé to update and a letter of recommendation to look forward to. But right now all she wanted was to arrive quietly in the small New Jersey town, slip into the safety of her family home and lick her wounded pride until she figured out what else she had to do about the mess she was in. The last thing she needed was a distraction like Spencer Madison.

“Going home for Christmas?”

“Yes, and my ten-year high school reunion,” she answered before she thought to stop herself. She slowly slid her gaze toward him. How was he managing to catch her off guard like this?

“I went to mine a few years back,” he said, shaking his head and chuckling. “You’re going to have a great time.”

Wrong. The thought of showing up at her reunion without a date was as appealing as facing an IRS audit alone. Of course, she had no intention of dating anyone anytime soon anyway. Being dumped by her boyfriend yesterday was almost as humiliating as being fired from her Capitol Hill job the day before. Almost.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her midriff. Had she really been voted The Girl Most Likely To Succeed by her graduating class or was that just a nightmare she had last night? She winced when she thought about the disgraceful reality of her life. Nothing like this was supposed to happen. Not to Jade Macleod, the planner, the prioritizer, the achiever. The class president. Pressing back against her seat, she gave into a weary sigh.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, leaning close again.

She could smell orange-flavored chocolate on his breath, the expensive leather of his bomber jacket tucked between them and, most enticing of all, his clean, male scent. Her heart was pounding hard enough to make her skin tingle. For one heavenly moment she closed her eyes and escaped into the sensual haze his presence created.

What was it about this audacious stranger that she found so compelling? His voice? His scent? She squirmed in her seat. His taste in chocolate? Her growing smile suddenly froze. He was pressing his knee against her thigh with all the familiarity and intensity of a concerned lover.

Stiffening her spine she sat straight up. A lover? Who said anything about a lover? The man was a stranger. Granted, a good-looking, chocolate-scented one, but for all she knew there were other words that could describe him better. Slippery. Unstable. Dangerous.

She looked up for the emergency brake then winced when she realized what she was considering. She was on a train to Follett River, not in a lost episode of “I Love Lucy.” There was no call for histrionics.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she said, hoping her cool tone and hard stare would make him move back.

He didn’t move.

Honestly, he was close enough for her to count his eyelashes if they weren’t so thick. She uncrossed her legs and looked away. His warm breath continued playing against her neck as subtly as a sweet caress. Shifting her weight to one hip, she adjusted the hem of her skirt then crossed her legs in the opposite direction.

“Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yes.” No! The next two weeks of her life were going to be an endurance test for her nervous system. She was about to attend her high school reunion without a date. On top of that she was going to have to deal with all those questions about her illustrious career on Capitol Hill. A career that no longer existed. And just to make things interesting, this would all take place over the Christmas holidays. She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she should have pressed for an emergency appointment with that psychotherapist instead of tucking her tail between her legs and hurrying home.

Candy, even chocolate candy, couldn’t fix her problems. Nor could brawny, breezy Spencer Madison. Stealing a glance at him, she suddenly felt a flicker of self-doubt tickling beneath her breastbone. Before she could figure out a logical reason for the sensation, the door at the end of the car rattled open.

“Follett River. Next stop, Follett River.”

Turning away from Spencer, she pressed both hands against the window as the train crossed the bridge over Follett River. Then a stand of snow-laden pines whisked by and the college bell tower came into view. She was already picturing herself climbing into a taxi and telling the driver to take her to Red Oak Road...the back way. The last thing she needed right now was to run into a chatty friend.

“Looks like something off of a church calendar out there.”

So what if he was leaning over her shoulder? This was the happiest she’d felt in a long time. “Yes, it does,” she said, not caring if he heard the rush of excitement in her voice or saw her beaming.

After a second he backed off, leaving her to bask in the special moment. But not for long. As the train pulled into the station, the brakes grabbed and half the contents of her purse spilled onto the floor.

“No,” she said, blocking him with her arm when he reached to help her. “I’ll get it.”

As she scrambled to pick up her things, Spencer Madison let out a heartfelt “What have we here?” followed by an amused laugh.

Jade fought feminine instinct to defend the scattered contents of her purse. What business was it of his anyway? Besides, in a matter of seconds, she would be escaping this newest distracting bid by him to engage her in conversation. She tossed a tube of lipstick back in her purse, followed by her day planner notebook and flip phone. What made him think talking would work when that smile of his hadn’t? That smile...

Before she could help herself, she twisted around to look up at him. He had the whitest, most even teeth she’d ever seen. And those dimples were incredibly charming on a man she suspected was approaching his mid-thirties.

“Check that out.” Jutting his thumb toward the window on the opposite side of the train car, he said, “Looks like we arrived right on time for the celebration...” He gave her a comical frown. “You never did tell me your name.”

“No, I didn’t,” she said, purposely giving him her most sincere smile to confuse him before turning away. She didn’t care to know what he was talking about. Reaching for a pen that had rolled beneath her seat, she shoved it in her purse, grabbed her coat and started up from her seat.

Outside, a band began playing “Hello, Dolly.” There was something eerily familiar about the enthusiastic though amateurish rendition. Jade eased back onto her seat. Leaning across Spencer Madison’s lap, she felt her eyes widening as her heart contracted. “Oh, no.”

“They’re a little heavy on the drums, but that kind of energy sure catches your attention, doesn’t it?” Standing, Spencer Madison purposely blocked her view as he shrugged into his jacket. “I wonder who rates this kind of welcome.”

She pressed back in the seat for another look, her gaze darting around him like a hummingbird. When she didn’t answer him, Spencer reached to the rack above them for their luggage.

“You’re getting out here, right?” he asked as several people squeezed by him on their way off the train.

Jade Macleod gave him the kind of blank look reserved for startled deer trapped in car headlights. In the three weeks Spencer Madison had been following her, she had always appeared in complete control of herself. The sight of her like this jarred him. He could almost allow himself to feel sorry for her current state, but that wouldn’t get his job done.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Reaching across his empty seat she took a white-knuckled grip on the armrest and scanned the scene outside.

“I—I... Oh, no, it—it ca—Ohh, no.”

He gently shook his head as she tried to force a coherent sentence. “Sorry,” he said, with a shrug. “If you think it would help, I’d be willing to buy a vowel.”

“Move!” she said, frantically grabbing onto the leather sleeve of his jacket, and pulling herself past him to the seat across the aisle. Kneeling on the cushion, she bent low to the window, sending her short skirt up her thigh.

Spencer indulged himself with an admiring glance lasting a full five seconds. He’d seen her at her health club wearing less, but this time those firm, sleek thighs were so close they were making his fingers itch.

“What is it?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned down. When she started speaking in broken syllables again, he moved in close, curving his large hand around her shoulder.

“Is there someone out there you don’t want to see?” When she didn’t answer, he dipped his head lower and read from the banner outside. “Jade Macleod.” Turning his face toward her profile, he felt her hair brush his cheek. “Is that your name?”

She nodded.

“Jade, you look a little pale. You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?”

She twisted around on her knees to stare blankly into his eyes. A second later the tuba player took advantage of a lull and blew an amazingly rude note. The sound sent Jade forward against Spencer’s chest.

“Steady there, kiddo. What’s this all about?”

“It’s about me,” she said, pushing away from him the instant, it seemed, she came to her senses and realized she’d been burrowing into his embrace.

“Who are you?”

“Nobody anymore. I swear,” she said just as the crowd outside began chanting her name.

Spence looked out the window again then gave her a squinty-eyed look. “Well, you’re the most popular nobody I’ve ever met.”

With her gaze darting nervously around them, she whipped down the window shade. The train car was empty except for the two of them. “It’s too complicated to explain right now.”

Holding up his hand, he brought his thumb and index finger as close as he could without actually making contact with the other. “Could you give me just a tiny hint?” he asked, hoping his attempt at humor would break the tension and calm her down.

She shook her head. Her desperate expression told him she wasn’t in the mood for joking. Truth was, she looked as if she was beginning to hyperventilate.

For the first time since he’d started his investigation, he wondered if the pretty congressional aide might be more of a pawn than a perpetrator in the suspected travel fraud in her office. Stunned by his sentimental thought, he rolled his eyes. He knew nothing for certain yet. Except one thing. If anyone understood that hard-edged journalism had no place for sappy softies, it was Spencer Madison.

He gave her a skeptical look.

She pushed him into the aisle. “I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Pretend we’re traveling together.”

He stepped back and lowered his chin. “You want me to pretend we’re, uh...” Smiling, he moved his hand back and forth between them. “Together? As in... together?”

“What?”

“In the Biblical sense together?”

“No! Not like that. I want you to pretend you’re my assistant,” Jade said, picking up a piece of her luggage and reaching for another. “And only if anyone asks.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice flat with disappointment.

She gave him a look to match the temperature and pointedness of the icicles hanging from the station’s overhang. “Why am I not surprised?” she murmured under her breath.

Jade began silently counting to ten, hoping her composure would return by the time she finished. She made it to three before blurting out, “Well, can you help me?”

A subtle, indefinable light came into his eyes at the same moment a slow smile began deepening his lengthy dimples. Later, when she was safely hiding in her old room, she would take the time to curse his ancestry. “Look, I know you must find this amusing but I just need to get through that crowd out there as quickly as I can. Will you help me?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Will we be having dinner together afterward?”

“Dinner? Yes, yes, of course.” She was willing to promise him a new car and an all-expense-paid trip to the Bahamas. Hell, she’d throw in ten pounds of Smoochies, too, if that would get him to help her.

Her heart began sinking when he glanced outside then gave her a dubious frown. Just when he had her convinced he was about to say no, he picked up his suitcases. “So, where are we going for dinner, Jade Macleod?”

A rush of relief mixed with a generous amount of gratitude filled her heart. Behind all that exasperating behavior there was a decent man! “Anywhere you want, Spencer Madison. Just get me out of here.”

She followed him up the aisle to the opposite end of the train, then hung back when he motioned for her to wait. He went down the steps, set down his luggage and reached back for hers. After setting everything on the platform, he looked around then motioned her down the steps. “Watch out for my computer case.”

She didn’t have to. He lifted her off the bottom step and over the case before her high-heeled boots could touch the platform. The effortless, take-charge move took her breath away. An unfamiliar excitement shivered through her. He wasn’t the irritating stranger anymore and she was feeling anything but weary. With his hands still curved around her waist, he leaned his head close enough to hers so she felt his beard stubble brush her cheek.

“Where to now?”

“In that door, through the station and out to the taxi stand. Then—”

“Jade! There you are,” her brother shouted from down the platform.

Without missing a bone-jangling note, the members of the Follett River High School marching band promptly pivoted in her direction. Spencer took his hands away and a few seconds later the music stopped.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Representative Bloomfield’s aide, valedictorian and president of her high school class and the girl voted Most Likely to Succeed—my sister, Jade Macleod.”

As the small crowd whooped and clapped their hands, Neal Macleod said in a stage whisper, “I’m doing a feature for the Follett River Ledger. I’m calling it, ‘What Ever Happened To The Girl Most Likely To Succeed?’ I came up with the idea this morning over at the Chocolate Chip Café when I heard the band director say the band needed practice. Kinda nice how it all came together. What do you think?”

She stared at him in silence.

“Right. Okay,” he said, sticking a small tape recorder within an inch of her lips. “So how does it feel to be back home in Follett River for your ten-year high school reunion?”

She opened her mouth. Nothing came out but a strangled rasp. Desperate, she looked up at Spencer.

Without hesitation, Spencer leaned close to the recorder. “I know Jade would like to tell you how surprised and honored she is by all of this attention. Unfortunately she’s recovering from a bad case of laryngitis.”

“And you are...?” Neal asked.

“Her personal assistant, Spencer Madison,” he said, glancing down at her.

Personal? She never said anything about personal. Pressing her lips together, she looked first at Spencer and then at her brother. The good news was, she didn’t have to choose; she could murder the both of them and the punishment would be the same.

“Jade, you have your own personal assistant now,” Neal said, as he reached across to shake Spencer’s hand, “I am impressed.”

And you’re lying, too, little brother. She could tell by the look in Neal’s eyes that his incredibly intelligent mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out what she was doing with Spencer.

She wondered that herself. In her haste to avoid public embarrassment, she hadn’t considered that Spencer Madison was all wrong to play her assistant. While she had shown up in her business suit, he was standing beside her in a leather bomber jacket, jeans that molded to everything and two-days’ worth of beard stubble that would have appeared contrived under the best circumstances. She swallowed slowly. She was already regretting her hasty decision.

“Smile,” someone shouted.

And Spencer did just that. His grin was genuine, his attitude—pleased-to-be-here—and his white teeth the envy of any politician. Down-to-earth yet dazzling, Jade couldn’t take her eyes from him. No one else could, either.

“You’re not smiling,” he said without moving his lips.

He was right. She’d been too busy staring at his born-to-break-hearts smile. Not her heart, of course, she thought as she turned away from him to smile at the camera. A second later her gaze strayed back to him as he gave a thumbs-up to the crowd.

They whooped their approval.

She gave him a light kick on the ankle. Honestly, what some people wouldn’t do for a free meal.

“All right.” Spencer clapped his hands together once then turned to Neal. “She should probably get home and rest.”

“Rough day?” Neal asked, pocketing his tape recorder.

“Rough,” Spencer agreed. “We worked right up until it was time to catch our train.”

We? Our? Would this madness ever end? The two men reached for the luggage as she turned on her heel and started toward the parking lot. The band followed them, blasting out “Moon River” this time.

Jade’s heart was already sinking when she spotted the hand-lettered sign attached to Neal’s car. Welcome Home, Congressional Aide Jade Macleod. Climbing in the back seat, she quickly slammed the door.

True, Spencer Madison had done what she’d asked. He also proved he could think quickly on his feet. But did he have to look so damned pleased with himself while he did it? Well, he could eat worms for dinner for all she cared. And he could eat them alone. Reaching for the door lock, she jammed down the button. At that same moment the front car doors opened.

“Hey, sis, I’ll head out to the house first to drop you off,” Neal said, as he and his photographer climbed in. “Then I’ve got to get Casey and me back to the paper so I can have a look at these photos.”

Before Jade could respond, the back door opposite hers opened. “Moon River” was blaring into the car’s interior as Spencer Madison got in. His surprise entry had her lurching forward and reaching for her brother’s shoulder.

Without missing a beat, Neal continued. “Spencer said he was going to be staying over at the Maxwell, but I told him living in a hotel was crazy when we have all that room at the house. When he told me you two are working on that special project together, I said it only makes sense that you both should be near each other.”

Jade’s mouth dropped open as she turned to glare at Spencer. “What project?” she mouthed silently.

“That’s okay,” Spence said in a perfectly audible voice. “I haven’t mentioned the nature of Representative Bloomfield’s project.” He pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s still secret.”

Secret project? There was no secret project, she wanted to shout. But she couldn’t now that Casey was sitting in the front seat next to Neal. The fewer people that knew about this catastrophe, the better.

She slumped back in her seat as Neal tooted his horn then waved off the high school band that was circling the car. “Moon River” suddenly ended as the band members scattered out of the way.

“Their particular interpretation needs a tad more work,” Neal said as he started the car. Spencer and Casey agreed, as he turned on the radio and drove off. Channel surfing, he quickly landed on a station playing reggae music. “Yesss.” He turned up the volume. “Now that’s music.”

Jade checked her watch then inched closer to her door.

Without hesitation, Spencer stretched his arm over the back of her seat and leaned in close to her ear. “How’d I do?” he asked, his leg casually pressing against hers.

“Let’s put it this way. No matter what my brother promised, you’re not moving in with us. And you can forget about dinner,” she whispered, giving his knee a hearty shove. Hard muscle and bone bounced back against her own. “Get off me!” she seethed, thumping him harder this time.

Neal took that moment to glance in the rearview mirror. “Settle down back there, you kids,” he said, in his best imitation of their father’s voice. “Or, I swear, I’m turning this car around and we’re all going home.”

Coming off the seat, Jade grabbed onto her brother’s headrest and opened her mouth to speak. Casey took that moment to snap off a few more photos, momentarily blinding her with the flash.

“Thought I’d finish the roll,” she heard the girl say.

“Uh, uh,” Neal said, waving his finger in the air between the spots of light. “You’d better save that voice, sis. Mom and Dad are at the house waiting to hear all about how you’re straightening out those naughty politicians on Capitol Hill.”

Sinking back in her seat, she gave a whimper that was lost to everyone but Spencer in the reggae din. If they only knew how naughty.

“Don’t worry,” Spencer said, patting her shoulder. “I can get you through that, too.”


Two

“One night,” Jade said as she paced inside the west-wing bedroom, her fingers firmly pressed to her temples. “I can manage this for one night. All I have to do is come up with a logical explanation for getting rid of you tomorrow. Early.” She motioned emphatically with both hands. “Very early.

“In the meantime, you’re going to have to do exactly as I say. You’re not to go downstairs without me. You’re not to speak to anyone without me. And—”

“Nice place,” Spencer said, cutting her off with enough over-the-top enthusiasm to let her know he was not talking about the Hotel Maxwell.

Pointedly ignoring him, she went on. “And if I can figure out a good excuse for you to eat dinner up here, you’re going to—”

She froze in her tracks when he let loose with a long, spirited whistle. “What is it now?”

“Did you do that?” he asked, as he removed his wallet and tossed it on the bedside table.

Her annoyance was building with each heartbeat. If Spencer Madison was running for the Most Aggravating Person of the Year Award, she’d vote twice for him. She took a labored breath then let it out through her nose. “Did I do what?”

Shaking his head with genuine appreciation, he stared up at the hand-painted bluebirds and pink ribbons on the ceiling. “The mural.”

“And what if I did?”

“It’s damn good.”

“Oh.” She squinted upward and then at him. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely. The gold on the ribbons and the clouds in the background give it a kind of surrealistic feel. ”When did you paint it?”

“The summer I turned sixteen.” Recalling that carefree period in her life, she laughed softly. “I was heavily influenced by Disney cartoons back then. And anything remotely French and romantic—” She stopped in midsentence when she realized he was trying to steer her off the subject of getting rid of him. Scowling, she clamped both hands on her hips.

Controlling Spencer Madison for the next twelve hours wasn’t going to be easy, but she wasn’t giving up. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

Carefully removing several shirts from his suitcase, Spencer set the stack on the bed. “I haven’t missed a word.”

“Okay,” she said, challenging him with a jut of her chin. “What did I say?”

He reached for his shaving kit. “Let’s see,” he said, tossing it back and forth between his hands before pausing thoughtfully. “You’ve been heavily influenced by anything remotely French and romantic—”

“Before that.”

“You mean, downstairs just now with your parents? Don’t worry. You were very good,” he said, winking at her.

“What was that wink for?”

“I think they like me.”

Jade flew across the room. “Obviously you have not been listening. You’re here for one night and one night only so there’ll be no need to unpack,” she said, scooping up his shirts then dropping the armload back into his suitcase. She was on home ground now. In a place where she felt safe and confident, and he was not going to change that with a wink, that chipper talk or his good ol’ boy attitude.

Rezipping the luggage, she shoved it off the bed. “And just because my parents offered you good brandy, doesn’t mean they like you. They do that to everyone I bring home.”

When he looked as if he was going to reach for the phone, she lunged to push it to the other side of the night table. “You have not lucked into a meal ticket here so don’t even think about canceling your reservations at the Maxwell.”

He studied her for a moment then slipped his hands in his pockets and nonchalantly leaned around her for a look at the balcony doors. She took that opportunity to snatch his wallet from the night table.

“Look at me,” she said, shaking the leather trifold at him. “I’m locking this in my father’s office safe downstairs, so don’t get any crazy ideas about robbing us then sneaking out. And I’m counting the silver and checking your bags before you leave here, too.”

As his roving gaze landed on her again, he took a step closer, bumping the toes of his loafers against her pumps. His towering height caused her to look up instead of down. One deep breath and his chest would be pressing against her breasts. She swallowed carefully.

He lowered his chin. “You mean you’d like to go through my personal possessions?”

Suddenly the spacious room she’d spent her childhood in felt claustrophobically small. She had all she could do not to cup her fingers over his stubbly beard and hold him...back. Along with his serious expression, his masculine stance took her breath away. Maybe that terrorist-cum-movie star look wasn’t as repulsive as she once thought. “I—I didn’t say that.”

He moved closer. “You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice rumbling through her like soft thunder on a sultry afternoon.

Her eyelids fluttered shut. He was going to kiss her. The kind of hot and thorough kiss that left you breathless and achy. The kind that made you moan for more. The kind she’d read about but never experienced Tingling sensations were scattering through her body like blind butterflies on too much caffeine. Lifting her chin, she allowed her lips to flower open. Any second now he was—

She heard him sit down on the bed.

Of course he wasn’t going to kiss her. Dropping her chin, she kept her eyelids tightly shut as the words from a popular serenity prayer rolled through her mind. After a moment she opened her eyes, slapped his wallet on the table and looked down at him with condescension worthy of royalty. “I know what this is about now.”

He gave the mattress a few test bounces without bothering to look up at her. “What?”

“You’re trying to turn this side trip into a research experiment for that novel you’re writing, aren’t you?” Before he could answer, she went on. “Well, you won’t be around here long enough to get anywhere with that idea, so don’t bother fluffing the pillows. And stop that bouncing! This sleigh bed’s an antique. Did you hear me?”

When she grabbed his knees to steady him, their noses brushed. Startled by the playful yet intimate contact with him, she stopped moving.

He smiled. “This was your bed when you were little, right?”

Letting go of his knees, she pulled back. “How do you know that?”

“Easy. Quality piece,” he said, running his hand along an inviting turn of wood. “Nice, solid curves.” Dropping back on the white-on-white, pin-striped comforter, he opened his arms and wriggled his hips. “Makes a little noise when it’s shaken...kinda reminds me of you.”

She brought her fists straight down to her sides. “I am not laughing.”

He kicked off his shoes, swung his legs onto the bed and folded his arms behind his head. “I know, but I am a patient man,” he said, easing back onto the bank of ruffly, white eyelet pillow shams.

Avoiding his out-there-and-in-your-face expression, Jade dropped her frosty gaze over all six feet plus of him. Stretching, sprawling...standing, breathing; it didn’t matter. She’d never met anyone more comfortable with his own body. From the short time she’d known him, she was certain that Spencer Madison would be just as comfortable stretched out on that bed in his birthday suit.

The breath-stealing image appeared out of nowhere, bolting her to the floor. All those strong lines and angles of inviting masculinity contrasting with the soft, white comforter...her soft, white comforter. A wave of body heat swept through her, singeing her flesh. If her face was half as red as the rest of her body felt, he was going to know in an instant what she was thinking. She willed her eyes to look away, but when that didn’t happen she rubbed at her forehead.

“Headache?”

She slowly lowered her hands. Something ached, but it wasn’t her head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, curling his torso up and toward her. Leaning on his elbow, he patted the mattress. “Did you want to sleep here tonight?”

There? She swallowed. Right there in that warm spot? Where you rested your head on the pillow? Where you opened your arms and wriggled your hips? Where I pictured your naked body? “Not anymore,” she said, as she headed for the connecting door to the next room.

“Jade. Hold on a minute.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see him swinging his legs off the bed and planting his feet on the pale pink rug.

“Why are you doing this? What are you up to?”

“I’m making it clear to you that you’re leaving here as soon as I can manage it, and with as little fanfare as possible.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, angling his head in gentle reprimand.

She gave a huffy, impatient sigh. “Don’t you have plans to be with your family for the holidays?”

“Not this year. They’re on a cruise somewhere in the Caribbean.” He pushed up onto his feet. “What are you trying to hide, Jade?”

She slowed her steps as a tiny alarm bell jangled in her head. Was that genuine concern she heard? Or was he setting her up again to play another exasperating game of cat and mouse? Either way, it didn’t matter. She’d been through enough humiliation in the last few days to last a lifetime. And until she received that promised letter of recommendation from Sylvia Bloomfield so that she could move on finding another job, she didn’t need Spencer Madison around distracting her. On any level. “It’s none of your—”

“It is now.”

She could tell by the way he cut her off that Spencer Madison wasn’t about to back down. He had time on his side, too; he wasn’t going anywhere until breakfast. Sighing, she ran her tongue back and forth over the edges of her teeth. What had she expected? She knew he would ask this question sooner or later. She also knew she owed him some sort of an explanation, too. But that didn’t make it any easier to come up with an answer.

“Well?” He raised a brow.

Reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, she studied him carefully. He’d been sending her mixed signals since the first time he’d brushed against her. What he meant, what he wanted and who he was were as unknown to her as her own future. No way was she going to tell him that she’d just been fired when she couldn’t bring herself to admit it to anyone else. Not even her own family. There was only one thing to do. Since she was the world’s worst liar, she’d have to offer him an altered version of the lesser of two evil truths.

“My boyfriend was supposed to have come on this trip, but we had this disagreement... this big, and... well, personal disagreement. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time, I know, yet I still found it necessary to break up with him.” She was starting to ramble, but she always did that when she lied.

Spencer’s face contorted to a sympathetic frown. Too sympathetic. But there was no going back now, so she went on, effusing her explanation with a whine worthy enough to win an Academy Award. “I really can’t explain why I panicked this afternoon. Probably the stress of the breakup. I mean, it wasn’t easy after all the time I put into the relationship, and when he—”

“Bull.”

“Bull?” One hand shot to her hip and the other snapped toward him with the efficiency and speed of a karate chop. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means, I don’t believe you.”

“You think this trip isn’t embarrassing for me? My parents have been hounding me to bring Richard for a visit. And at the last minute he’s a no-show. Believe me,” she said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and toward the door, “they haven’t started their main interrogation session yet.

“And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m facing having to attend my high school reunion alone. Not that it means anything to you, but I, the girl voted Most Likely to Succeed, am not looking forward to dancing with myself at that affair.”

“That’s what’s got you coming off your spool?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why you insufferable, obnoxious, sanctimonious, know-it-all, you don’t know anything about me.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Spencer said, raising his hands in surrender. “You’re right. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but maybe that can work to your advantage.”

She reached for the doorknob.

“Jade, please. Hear me out,” Spencer said, working to gain her trust with the most concerned tone he could muster. A journalistic strategem he’d practiced for the better part of seven years. He took a few steps toward her. “We both know there’s a lot more to this than what you’ve told me. Whatever it is, you’re going to feel a lot better once you talk about it.”

She looked cautiously over her shoulder at him. He took it as his cue to continue.

“You know, sometimes a stranger can be a better listener than a friend or a family member. With a stranger, there’s no history, no expectations, no emotional connection to the person or the problem.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he arched a brow. “If you’re ready to talk, I’m willing to listen.”

Spence watched as she stared at the lush weeping fig tree by the balcony doors for a long moment, then blew a puff of air through her lips. She was coming around. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was all he could do not to reach for his tape recorder.

“Okay. I’ll tell you the truth, but you’re not to go blabbing this.”

He made a zipping motion across his lips.

“Richard left me.”

This little gem was a far cry from what he’d expected: an admission that she’d been fired from her Capitol Hill job, an angry burst of information on Representative Sylvia Bloomfield and maybe even a confession of her own involvement in the travel fraud he was investigating.

He stroked his stubbly beard and smiled to himself. He was an optimistic man; he’d try again later about her job. In the meantime, and not that he gave a rat’s aorta, but just how important was this damn boyfriend to her? With that red hair, those big blue eyes and that gorgeous body, Jade Macleod went way beyond pretty and well into the realm of beautiful. What kind of a fool would walk out on her?

“You sound more ticked off than hurt.”

“I can assure you, I am hurt. In fact, I—I’m devastated. Humiliated.” She blinked several times, trying, he guessed, to produce a tear or two. When that didn’t work, she pressed her lips together and looked away. “I think it’s made me a little crazy.”

He liked the way she held herself together. He liked the way she fell apart, too. But when she tried to lie, he had to bite back a smile. Wringing her hands, Jade chattered on about her broken heart as her beautiful blue-eyed gaze darted around the room. So much wasted energy. He could think of better ways to channel it.

Resisting the urge to adjust his inseam, Spence pinched the bridge of his nose instead. Enough of this sentimental, sexy, screwball nonsense. What the hell was he thinking about? He was here for one thing. Information for a no-nonsense, hard-facts exposé on Jade Macleod’s ex-boss. Let the games begin, he thought as he held up his hand for her to stop.

“Clear up a point for me, will you?” he asked as he walked over and handed her his handkerchief. “You said your parents have never met Richard.”

Sniffing, she eyed him suspiciously. “That’s right.”

“Well, wouldn’t it have made more sense if you’d asked me to pretend to be him instead of your assistant?”

She stared at him blankly.

“It’s none of my business, but he must not have been very good in the—”

She leveled a finger and a warning look at him. “Watch it.”

“Hey, all I’m saying is, if you’re not bothering to replace him, there must not have been much of a relationship to replace.”

“There’s more to a relationship than...well... that,” she said as her face reddened. “Besides, I only needed you to pretend at the train station. Things were never supposed to go this far.” Raising the handkerchief, she turned away to blow her nose.

“Whatever. It just sounds to me as if you’re more interested in what people think of your career than your love life. Am I right?”

Balling the handkerchief, she shoved it back in his hand. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Hmm?” He stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket.

“This psychological ploy to get me to talk about myself so you’ll have something to chew on for that novel. What’s the matter, Spence? Suffering from the proverbial writer’s block? Are you a little weak on plot? Short on characterization? Is there fizzle where there should be zing?”

He didn’t bother hiding his smile as he backed away. “Is there fizzle where there should be zing?” Picking up his suitcase, he placed it on the bed again. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out. Oh, by the way. Dinner with your family tonight doesn’t count. You still owe me one.”

“It certainly does count. I have no intention of being seen with you in public. The fewer people I have to explain you to, the better,” she said, reaching behind her for the doorknob and twisting it open. “What’s that smile for?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve already been seen in public. And what are you going to say when people read about us in their newspapers?”

“Do I look worried?”

She did, but considering the daggers he was already dodging, he decided not to answer.

“Well, I’m not.” She was rubbing her temples again. “This all comes under the heading of damage control, which is something of a specialty of mine.”

Spence felt his ears perk up. “Really?”

“Maybe. Anyway, much as I love my brother, he will never meet his deadline because, unfortunately, Neal’s never finished anything in his life. Now, if you don’t mind,” she said, heading back to the hall door for her suitcases, “I’m going to settle in. I’ll be back for you later.”

When he made a move to help, she waved him off. “Don’t touch them,” she said, grabbing the suitcases from his reach and heading for the connecting door to the next bedroom. “Don’t go anywhere, don’t talk to anyone and don’t use the phone unless you have your own calling card.”

Before he could respond, she kicked the door shut behind her.

Where was he! Jade knocked for the third time.

She hadn’t meant to leave him alone this long, but somehow her intended five-minute nap had raged out of control. Now two hours had disappeared and so, it seemed, had Spencer Madison.

She called his name through the closed door. No answer. Frowning, she pushed it open, poked her head in and looked around. His wallet was right where she’d left it. Casting a quick glance toward the hall door, she slipped into the room and headed for the night table. The temptation to look through the brown leather trifold gnawed at her insides like a hungry pit bull puppy. She rubbed her moist palms against the tunic top of her black evening pajamas. Everything she’d been taught about right and wrong was fast-forwarding through her mind.

If ever there was a reason to break a rule, Spencer Madison’s presence was it. She had a right—no, a duty—to check him out. Switching on the lamp, she picked up his wallet and began unfolding it.

“Can I help you find something?”

The sound of his voice had the same effect on her as a minor earthquake. Slamming the wallet back onto the table, she accidentally sent the lamp crashing sideways onto the bed. When she scrambled to right it, her knee connected with the corner of the night table.

“No. I was doing just fine,” she said, rubbing her knee as she turned toward him. He was lounging in the doorway, his arms crossed, his one shoulder casually pressed against the door frame. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

“Yes. Do you always go through your guest’s belongings?”

“You’re not a guest,” she said, reaching behind her to stop the drawer handle from rattling.

“Don’t tell that to your parents,” he said as a lazy grin lit his face. “They’ve laid out quite a spread down there. Why don’t you come on down and see?”

“I thought we agreed that you were going to stay up here until I came to get you. I don’t appreciate you wandering around my house,” she said, crossing the room to where he blocked the doorway.

“After I made some phone calls to let people know where I’d be, things got pretty boring. By the way, I’m short on hangers in my closet. Think you could lend me some?”

“You don’t need hangers because you’re not staying.”

“Why not? We were doing so well.”

“You were doing so well, but I’m not like you. I dislike taking advantage of people. I hate lying. And I especially hate lying to people I love. I’m going down there now,” she said, turning sideways to shimmy past him. She hurried toward the stairs then paused at the top step to turn and face him again. “I’m going to tell them all about this ridiculous mistake I’ve made,” she said, grasping the rail. “Then Neal will drive you into town and we can put all of this behind us.”

Spencer slowly shook his head.

“What?”

“It’s not a good time for that.”

“It’s as good a time as any because sooner or later they’ll have to know that I’ve been...” She’d almost said fired. What got into her every time she spoke to this man? His easygoing, confident manner pulled the truth right out of her. If she didn’t watch herself, she’d be blurting out the whole, tawdry story of how she’d lost her job.

“Don’t stop now. Let it out,” he said, joining her at the top of the curved staircase.

“Okay. Dumped. I’ve been dumped by my boyfriend.” Just before he emptied my bank account and “borrowed” my car. She stared hard, daring him to smile. “Are you happy now?” Spencer looked disappointed. But not for long.

“Mildly perplexed. Look, I could be wrong, but I don’t think you’ll be bringing any of this up tonight.”

“Well, I’m not interested in what you think. This is a personal matter,” she said, continuing down the stairs. “I made two mistakes. I allowed myself to panic. And I involved you. I’m not making a third one by keeping this charade going any longer.”

He followed her across the tiled foyer toward a set of oak doors. “What charade are you talking about?”

For a scary moment, she had the feeling he was referring to her firing. But he couldn’t know that because nobody knew yet except Sylvia Bloomfield and her. They’d both agreed that the announcement would be quietly made after the holidays.

She closed her hand over the shiny brass door lever. “Don’t be cute. All you have to concern yourself with is that you’re getting the meal I promised you, eating it quickly and getting back upstairs to repack. You’re leaving here tonight. It’s a done deal, Spence.”

His growing smile sent a shiver of suspicion through her.

“Did you ever notice that things are never as simple as they seem?” he asked, sauntering toward her.

“As far as you’re concerned, they are.”

“What’s your big hurry?”

“Look. All along I’ve planned to spend a quiet holiday with my family. Alone. Without strangers.”

“Flexibility is a highly underrated virtue.”

She narrowed her eyes as he wrapped his hand around the brass lever next to hers and smiled. What was he up to now? They pushed opened the double doors.

From all parts of the room came a rousing chorus of “Surprise!”


Three

Twelve hours, too many half-truths and one champagne hangover later, Jade walked into the Chocolate Chip Café. Mouthwatering aromas of gourmet coffees and homemade desserts were mixing with the snow-scented air that blew in with her.

Smiling to herself, she closed the door then looked around her old high school hangout, now a successful college coffee-and-dessert bar owned by a former classmate. Behind the counter, Megan Sloan managed to return her wave between twisting knobs and flipping levers on the cappuccino machine. The whooshing sounds added to the background hum of conversation in the sun-filled room. Her friend had made several changes to the place yet managed to retain the fun feeling that still made it one of Jade’s favorite places in Follett River.

As she shrugged out of her coat, the bell above the door jingled, signaling someone else’s arrival. She looked over her shoulder at a smiling Spencer.

“No dents,” he said, referring to the car he’d just parked.

“Considering the way you drive,” she murmured, “that could start me believing in Christmas miracles.”

But she wasn’t thinking about Christmas or miracles. She was reminiscing about the old days when the place reeked of greasy burgers, industrial-strength hair spray and teen spirit. Behind her, Spencer was stomping snow from his shoes and unzipping his bomber jacket. Surprisingly, his sounds were blending with her cherished memories. The nostalgic moment wrapped itself around her heart, making her smile.

For about two seconds.

Suddenly Spencer opened his arms, closed his eyes and pulled in a deep, noisy breath. The grand movement jolted her out of her memories and back to reality.

“Ahh. I love the smell of cappuccino in the morning.”

His dramatic delivery sent four nearby coeds into a table huddle and a frantic flurry of whispers.

Jade winced. She had yet to go anywhere with Spencer that he didn’t attract attention. She turned to give him a disapproving look but ended up tapping her toe on the floor. With his eyes still closed, she could only stare and wait for him to open them.

Several seconds later she was still staring. From his sybaritic smile to the snug fit of his jeans, there was no way any female in a hundred-yard radius could not stare. He was a startlingly handsome man.

Casually brushing at her bangs, she managed a peek toward the coeds. With the thumbs-up and appreciative smiles they were sending her way, the girls appeared to be in wholehearted agreement.

She responded with a weak smile then turned around to face Spencer. “When you’re done emoting, you can hang up my coat,” she said, shoving it against the solid wall of his chest.

She reached around him to shut the door but he was faster. His move brought his face inches away from hers.

“Are you still mad at your mother because she insisted I drive her car?” he asked, his fingers covering hers in a warm caress.

“I’m not mad at my mother. Unlike you, I know exactly what she’s up to.”

He tilted his head. “And what’s that?”

“I’ll give you a hint. Last time I brought someone home, she tried to throw us a surprise wedding.”

Beneath her hand, Jade could feel soft laughter rumbling in his chest. An odd tickling sensation started deep in her own. She started to smile, but stopped the instant she realized her defenses were dropping away. Why had she told him that? Was he laughing at her? Or was he laughing with her? Drawing her hand away, she let him know by a quick change in her expression that she was through with their bantering.

“What is her favorite color, by the way?”

“Teal,” she said, lifting a newspaper from a stack near the door. Creasing it with a snapping sound, she tucked it under her arm. “Why?”

“I overheard her and your father discussing what to get me for Christmas. I was hoping you’d give me a few suggestions for what to buy them.”

“No. Don’t even think about it. You’ll only be encouraging them. Besides, I didn’t bring you here to talk about Christmas shopping. I have a much more serious subject to discuss.”

“Uh, oh. So this is to be my farewell breakfast before I’m exiled to the Hotel Maxwell?”

“You already had breakfast. And you know as well as I do that you can’t leave me now.”

“Why not?” he asked, as he brushed a few drops of melted snow from the top of his head.

“Because that fan club you started amassing at the train station yesterday and continued amassing at last night’s party would demand an explanation as to why my assistant moved out on me. And I can’t think of one.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a valid argument for us to stick together.” His sympathetic expression would have convinced most people that he was concerned for her situation.

But Jade wasn’t one of them.

“Look,” she said, tapping her finger on the center of his chest. “You might as well know what I think of your presence in my life. You’re as welcome in it as a sharp stone in my shoe. Fingernails on a chalkboard. A paper cut. But as long as you’ll be leeching off my family, you and I are going to have to agree to a few ground rules. I’ve made a list of—”

“Gotcha.”

“No,” she said, jamming her finger a little harder against his colorful pullover. “I don’t think you do. I have a reputation to protect, and thus far your behavior has been borderline at best. Those two facts aren’t mixing well.”

He moved to hang her coat over a sturdy hook. “You mean, you’re concerned that I could do something that would get back to Sylvia Bloomfield and put your job in jeopardy? Maybe damage her image and your career?”

Jade’s mouth went dry when she tried to swallow. “Something like that,” she mumbled, as she fixed her gaze on the Santa Claus and reindeer stenciled across the café’s bay window. Spencer had an uncanny talent for catching her off guard, then scaring the heck out of her when she least expected it.

Spencer patted her softly on her cheek. “You worry too much, kiddo.”

The spur-of-the-moment touch was just what she needed. Thoughtful, tender, and the first sincere gesture from him that she could remember. And because of those things, his unanticipated tenderness was also just what she didn’t need. Her nerves were near the snapping point. Breaking into tears moments before she planned to tell Spencer what was expected of him would not be wise. She brushed his hand away. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I mean it. Not everyone has parents as proud of their kid as yours. Last night I thought your dad was going to start crying along with your mother when your girlfriends started in about what a shining example you’ve always been to them. Even the mayor couldn’t say enough about you. And when that question came up concerning the whereabouts of your absent boyfriend, everyone was extremely sympathetic.”

Clenching her fists, she fought to contain a growl, then turned and headed for a table in the back corner of the café.

Spencer hung up his jacket then followed her. As he pulled out the chair next to hers, Jade dropped her leather bag on the seat. He shrugged then moved to the one directly across from hers. “What’s the matter?”

“I was perfectly capable of explaining Richard’s absence without you butting in,” she said, dropping the newspaper on the table.

“No, you weren’t. Your face got so red when your friend Rebecca asked you about him, I thought you were going to have a stroke.”

“I thought I was, too,” she said, taking her chair then riffling through her bag for a pen and pad. “But not until you said he was in the hospital donating a kidney to his brother. Where do you come up with these things?”

“I’m a writer.” He smiled. “A writer who badly needs another kick of caffeine this morning. You, on the other hand, look as if you could use a decaf.”

“That I could,” she said, slapping a pen on the table as he started away. “Wait. You don’t know what I like or how I like it.”

“I don’t? We’ll see about that,” he said, his devilish grin sending a pleasurable tickle straight up her thighs and deep into her belly.

As he walked away, she forgot about looking for her pad of paper and looked at him instead. His confident stride through the maze of crowded tables reminded her of someone on his way to a podium to make a speech or accept an award. But it wasn’t tuxedo trousers pulling snugly across his behind, it was dark indigo denim. Those jeans were caressing his hips and thighs with the tenacity of a passionate lover. She indulged herself with an admiring sigh. Every step he took was an early Christmas gift...she had to decline!

She planted her elbows on the table then pressed her face into her hands. He was trouble. A train wreck waiting to happen smack-dab in the middle of the worst crisis of her life. She was nuts for even thinking about what it would be like to touch him like that. Besides, she knew her strengths and her limitations. No matter the circumstances, she would never be so daring as to stroke a man’s behind.

Lowering her fingers a few inches, she watched Spencer leaning against the counter as he talked to Megan. His natural charm and easygoing manner were undeniable, but so was the fact that while he obviously enjoyed the company of her girlfriends, he wasn’t out to seduce them.

But what about her? She squirmed uneasily in her chair. When it came to sexual chemistry, she wasn’t totally stupid. The first time they’d spoken on the train, she had trouble keeping her eyes off him. And he hadn’t left her alone for more than a minute during the entire journey. She sighed and looked away. Yesterday afternoon in the bedroom, he’d had a perfect opportunity to kiss her. And didn’t.

“Jade, Jade, Jade,” she whispered to herself. “When are you going to learn?”

From across the room, she heard his laughter—genuine, strong and compelling. Looking up, she saw he’d moved behind the counter with Megan who was teaching him how to work the cappuccino machine.

Jade drummed her fingers on her chin as she watched him carefully following Megan’s instructions. More research for the novel he was writing? Maybe that was the explanation for everything—irritating or otherwise—that Spencer did and didn’t do.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/susan-connell/how-to-succeed-at-love/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.