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Crazy About The Boss Page 2
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Emma cleared her throat. “I’ll let you and Max catch up, Jack.”
“How long will you be in London?” Maddie asked her.
“We’re on holiday for several weeks.” She looked at Jack. “And you? How long will you be here? Are you planning to see Mum?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” he said.
“You should.” Emma stood on tiptoe and hesitated a moment before kissing his cheek. “You look well but not happy, Jack.”
The casual comment brought the same rush of emptiness that had washed over him when he’d looked through the window. Why now? He’d managed fine without them all these years, proving he didn’t need them or anyone else.
“Not happy? And you can tell that in five minutes?”
“Less.” She slid her hand into her husband’s and their fingers intertwined. “Now that I know what happiness looks like, it’s easy to see when it’s not there. We’ll talk later.”
She and her husband walked away and mingled with the rest of the family. Then he looked at Max and felt again that soul-deep, overwhelming loneliness. They were half-brothers and had been best friends. Max had been the one to introduce him to parties, girls and fast cars.
Jack realized how much he’d missed him. “It’s good to see you, Max.”
“You, too.” Max looked at Maddie. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your significant other?”
“I’m significant and Jack has many ‘others’, but I’m not one of them,” Maddie retorted.
“Excellent news. I’m Max Valentine.”
“Jack’s brother?” she guessed.
“Indeed.”
“Maddie Ford,” she said. “Jack’s assistant as opposed to his significant other. Upon occasion, to my dismay, I’ve dutifully smoothed the ruffled feathers of his significant others. Which I guess would then make them insignificant.”
Max grinned. “You’re a feisty one.”
Jack was taken by surprise when an unreasonable flash of resentment ripped through him. “You’re not her type, Max.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Max actually has a personality.”
Maddie finished off the champagne in her glass. “Then maybe I should get to know him and his personality better,” she shot back.
Before Jack could figure out how he could be so pleased to see his brother at the same time he wanted to wring his neck for flirting with Maddie, his father joined them.
The older man rested his hand on his Max’s shoulder. “And so,” Robert Valentine said, “the prodigal son returns.”
Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
THE last time Jack had been face to face with his father, Robert Valentine had been enraged. Now he showed no emotion, not even surprise. He was still handsome, the silver flecks in his black hair giving him a distinguished look. His black eyes revealed nothing about his feelings for the son who had spent eighteen years trying to get his notice. The son who had struggled to control his natural enthusiasm. The son who now controlled the fate of this restaurant.
The irony of that almost made him smile.
Jack had literally looked up to his father twelve years ago, but now he looked him straight in the eye. He’d made himself a powerful man and was no longer that unsure boy who craved his father’s good opinion.
“Hello, Dad.”
“Jack.” Robert smiled his practiced smile. “It’s been a long time. To what do we owe this unexpected surprise?”
“Emma called.”
Something flickered in Robert’s eyes. “Did she now?”
“Yes. To tell me she got married.”
“Did she say anything else?” A muscle jumped in his father’s jaw.
In anyone else that tightening of the mouth would be nothing. For his stiff-upper-lipped father it signaled nervousness in the man Jack had once thought invincible. Satisfaction surged through Jack. If it made him a bastard that he took pleasure in the old man’s problems, so be it.
“She said she wanted me to meet her husband,” Jack answered.
“Sebastian. Nice chap.”
Jack shrugged. “Hard to tell in a few minutes, but my sister seems happy.”
“She’s blossomed, our Emma has, into a beautiful, self-confident young woman.”
“She has, yes.”
Funny how leaving Robert Valentine’s shadow had that effect.
“I hear you’ve done well for yourself, Jack,” Robert said.
“Does that surprise you?”
Instead of answering, Robert turned his gaze to Maddie. “And who’s this, then?”
She held out her hand. “Maddie Ford. Jack’s assistant,” she added before his father made the “significant other” assumption.
“Robert Valentine,” he said, shaking her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Bella Lucia.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you been to England before?”
She shook her head. “This is my first visit.”
“And Christmastime in London is a fine introduction.” Robert smiled at her.
“I have business,” Jack said.
“I do hope work won’t keep you from seeing some of London.” His father’s voice oozed charm.
“It won’t. Jack promised.” Maddie smiled brightly, a clear indication that the Valentine charm was working on her. “It would be a shame to come all this way and not take in the sights. Traveling has always been on my list of things to do.”
“Don’t put things off, Maddie,” Robert warned, “All work and no play…”
Hypocritical bastard! Vibrating with anger, Jack took a step forward and stopped inches from his father. “And how would you know about balancing work and play? For all the time you gave your family, we might have been pet frogs. When you weren’t buried in work, you played with women who were not your wife.”
Maddie put a hand on his arm. “Jack—”
He barely felt the touch, but her tone got his attention. The shocked expression on her face cleared the red haze of rage from his head. He blew out a long breath. “We’re leaving, Maddie.”
Shock turned to surprise and there were questions in her eyes. “But it’s just been—”
“We can’t stay,” Jack interrupted.
Robert frowned. “You’ve come a long way. Surely you can have dinner—”
“We have other plans,” he snapped.
Jack had come because of Emma, but he didn’t owe this man a thing and this place held no good memories for him. Right here the world as he’d known it had come apart. He’d rebuilt his life, but no one would be that important to him again.
As Jack hustled Maddie back out into the cold he acknowledged irony for the second time and didn’t appreciate it. Just like that night a dozen years ago, he couldn’t get out of Bella Lucia fast enough.
The difference was that this time he was leaving with Maddie, the only woman he trusted.
After checking into a suite at Durley House, Maddie couldn’t wait to get out of her travel clothes and into something more comfortable. If only she could get out of her thoughts as easily. The scene at Bella Lucia had really shaken her.
She’d never seen Jack like that. The repressed violence she’d felt in him had shocked her because she was accustomed to his easygoing charm, a trait she suspected he’d inherited from his father after meeting the man. This darker Jack with an aura of danger hanging over him was someone she didn’t know at all. And she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She didn’t like thinking about Jack outside of business because, by definition, outside of business meant personal. On a personal level, men like Jack were toxic to her. After getting to know him, she’d filed him in the well-to-do womanizing wastrel category. But after seeing his volatile reaction to his father, it was harder to keep him there. The little he’d said revealed that Jack had probably inherited his father’s fondness for women as well as the charm to reel them in.
And here she was sharing a suite
with the man. He had the master bedroom with a living room in between, but suddenly it was too close.
Damn it. She should have told him what he could do with his Christmas in London.
An unexpected knock on her door made her jump. She walked over and opened it. “What?”
“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering dinner.” He indicated the dining table behind him set with linen, china, candles, flowers and two plates.
That was all very lovely, as was Jack. He’d slipped into something more comfortable, too—jeans that fit his toned body as if they’d been made for him. As they probably had. The navy pullover sweater made his eyes look very blue especially with traces of his earlier hostility still darkening them. And it hit her like a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky that her crush could be resurrected without him lifting a finger.
His brother had called her feisty, but she didn’t feel that way at the moment. She could meet men in business and go toe to toe. She could talk capital and investments with Jack and give as good as she got. But some thing had shifted for her tonight and she wasn’t entirely sure what it was or how it happened. She just knew the sight of him produced a tickle low in her belly and she was aware of him in a way that she shouldn’t be.
“I’m not very hungry. It’s getting late. I’ll just—”
“We’re still on New York time. And after leaving the restaurant you clearly expressed your displeasure about not staying because the unbelievably scrumptious smells made your mouth water.”
Not as much as now, she thought, forcing her gaze from the width of his chest. She’d seen him in sweaters before. She’d seen him in jeans. But she’d never seen him angry enough to do battle. And after battle warriors had an overabundance of adrenaline to channel into other activities. Physical, intimate activities. How inconvenient for her that she was handy, yet exciting for her at the same time, which just meant that she needed serious therapy.
“The scrumptious smells are gone. And since when do you pay attention to my whining?”
“Did I say whining?”
“No, but that’s what you meant. It’s a flaw. I’m working on it,” she informed him.
“Speaking of work, I’m the boss. And you need to eat. I’m not a heartless slave-driver.”
“And you’re attempting to prove that by making sure your indentured subordinate is well nourished and has the strength to give you the last ounce of blood?” she asked, indicating the food on the table.
One of his dark eyebrows lifted. “When did you develop a flair for the dramatic?”
“I’ve always had it.”
But seeing a different side of Jack had unleashed it. She knew his business background and venture-capitalist-on-the-rise story, but until today she hadn’t realized how little she knew about him personally. She’d shared details of her life but he never had, unless it had been about the female of the month. The arm candy never lasted much longer than that before he ended things and it didn’t affect her. Except for the occasional overly emotional cast-off who had trouble dealing with Jack’s rejection and came to Maddie for consolation, in the form of an old-fashioned session of male-bashing.
But this male didn’t look as if he’d take no for an answer. If he ever made up his mind that he wanted more from her than simply sharing a meal, she’d be in a lot of trouble. She’d never been more grateful that she wasn’t his type.
“Okay, Jack. Let’s eat.” She picked a chair, then sat and lifted the metal covering over the plate. “Christmas dinner,” she said, surveying turkey with all the trimmings.
When she started eating, Maddie found she was hungry and the food was delicious. “Who’d have guessed hotel room service on a holiday could be so yummy?”
“In a five-star hotel one doesn’t have to guess. One counts on it, which is why one stays there.”
“If one can afford it.” She knew Jack could afford it.
They ate in silence for a few moments, then Maddie made the mistake of looking at him. The brooding expression on his face tugged at her, because Jack didn’t brood, and again she was amazed by how little she knew him. On the one hand she was safer not learning anything new. On the other, that damn dark expression on his face made her want to do something to make it go away.
“So can we talk about your family?” she asked.
“No.”
She dragged her fork through the mashed potatoes so the dammed up gravy could escape. Glancing at Jack, she realized he looked like a man with dammed-up feelings in need of release. And that was why she couldn’t take no for an answer. “I thought you were going to deck your dad.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “Did you now?”
She noted that he’d elevated the non-answer to an art form. “You never told me you had parents.”
“Everyone does. It seemed that confirming the obvious was an insult to your intelligence.”
His smile held no humor and made her shiver. But that didn’t stop her. “I guess your parents are divorced? So where’s your mother?”
“Dublin.” He cut a piece of turkey and forked it into his mouth, his gaze not leaving hers as he chewed.
“Are you going to see her?”
“I suspect I’ll have occasion to visit.”
She took a hearty drink of the wine he’d poured. “I meant while we’re here.”
“Technically this isn’t Ireland. London is in England.”
“Thanks for the geography lesson.” She knew he was deliberately trying to sidetrack her. She knew he could chew her up and spit her out if the focus he turned on her got personal. But she’d developed a tough façade so that he didn’t walk all over her and was never more grateful than right now. “Just so you know, the British accents were a big clue for me. To put a finer point on it, I meant since we’re so close, are you going to visit?”
“There’s a time issue. I’m not sure—”
“For God’s sake, Jack, we came all this way. To pop over to Ireland is like going from New York to New Jersey.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Maddie studied the dark look. Jack acted on instinct, gut feeling, deciding yes or no in a split second. He didn’t think about it. That was her job. She knew he’d already made up his mind and decided to change the subject. For now.
“I liked Emma.” She finished the wine in her glass and he refilled it. “She seems nice.”
“I don’t want to talk about my family.”
As if she needed it, there was another red flag that something wasn’t right with him. He was normally open and honest, too honest. On a regular basis he told her more than she wanted to know about his current woman. But now he was closed off and detached. What was up with that?
And the way he was looking at her… Maddie had shared dinner with him before, but not like this. They’d ordered in at work, and on the intimate scale it had never even registered. But this was intimate. God knew she wasn’t experienced, but she’d have to be a moron not to feel the pent up sexual energy in him. And all that energy directed at her seemed to be affecting her brain function, which no man had managed to do since college. She had to deflect it somehow.
“Tell me about Max?”
Something flared hot in his eyes, burning through the shadows. “What about him?”
“Well, for one thing, he’s very cute.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“Speaking of looks,” she said, “there’s a family resemblance. Does he treat women like tissues, too?”
“Tissues?”
“Disposable—like tissues.”
“Max isn’t your type,” he said again.
“How do you know what my type is?”
“I’ve met one or two. The accountant.” He sipped his wine as he thought for a moment. “The computer geek. The chemistry professor. There was no chemistry. With any of them.”
“Like they’re going to show chemistry in front of my boss.”
“If the spark is there, one can’t hide it.”
“A lot you know.” She was hiding her feelings from Jack right now she thought, as he focused those amazing eyes on her. Her pulse stuttered and she took a deep breath. “Going from one woman to the next doesn’t exactly satisfy the prerequisites for advanced chemistry.”
He leaned back in the chair and twirled his wineglass. “Just think of me as a scientist—experimenting until I get it right.”
“Don’t even go there with me. You wouldn’t know chemistry if a science experiment blew up in your face. And it does on an annoyingly regular basis.”
“And you know this how?”
“Two words. Angelica Tedesco.”
“Ah. A lovely girl.” He rested his elbows on the table and smiled his big-bad-wolf smile.
“Girl being the operative word.” She shook her head. “I had to pick up the pieces when she came to the office in tears.”
“While it lasted, the relationship was mutually satisfying.”
“It never lasts, Jack. Why is that?” She folded her arms on the table.
He lifted one broad shoulder dismissively. “I’m not looking for anything permanent. Don’t I get points for sending roses and breaking it off before someone gets hurt?”
“You’re a hit-and-run player. How do you know there’s no such thing as love at first sight?”
A dark eyebrow arched. “Maddie, I had no idea you were such a romantic.”
She ignored the way his words pricked her. “You may not get hurt, but how do you know others don’t?”
Maddie hurt for all the Angelica Tedescos in his life. And roses wouldn’t mend a broken heart. She knew for a fact only time would do that. Time and a promise not to make the same mistake. Jack had mistake written all over him.
She met his gaze. “It occurs to me that you’re a lot like your father.”
“You’re wrong.” His voice was sharp enough to cut glass.
“Am I? What was it you said to him tonight? Buried in work and playing with women? You described yourself, Jack.”
His gaze jumped to hers as the muscle in his jaw flexed. “Aren’t you just full of questions and observations.”
“It’s part of my job and what you expect from me,” she shot back. “And here’s an observation for you. In spite of that, he seems like a charming man.”