Crazy About The Boss Read online

  “Yes.” For over two years she’d learned nothing about him and now seemed to soak up every tidbit of information like a super-absorbent paper towel. “So you were, what—” she did the quick math calculations “—eighteen when you got out of the restaurant business?”

  He stopped in front of her and looked down. “I left home and went to New York.”

  “That’s some teenage rebellion.”

  “My father and I don’t get along.”

  “I noticed. But it must have been a heck of a fight to make you leave home.” She watched him carefully, trying to read into his tight expression. “What happened?”

  “It was so long ago I don’t even remember.”

  The flash of anger in his eyes told her he was lying. But she decided not to push. She might not know facts and details about Jack’s past, but it didn’t take psychic ability to realize his past and family tensions were responsible for bringing out the dark side of him. But easygoing or enigmatic, she didn’t think his stubborn streak would change. When he made up his mind about something she’d learned it was pointless to scale his position head-on. She’d find a roundabout way to get in.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “If you don’t want to talk about that, can you at least tell me about your grandfather and the love story that started the family business?”

  He shrugged. “William Valentine was sent to Naples as part of a British campaign in World War II. He met Lucia Fornari and married her in nineteen forty-three.”

  When he stopped, she wanted to shake him. How like a man to leave out details. “And?”

  “When they returned to Britain, he opened a restaurant in Chelsea in honor of his new wife and called it Bella Lucia.”

  “Beautiful Lucy,” Maddie whispered. She met his gaze and waited expectantly. “And?”

  “Eventually he opened two more locations. One in Knightsbridge, the other in Mayfair.” At her exasperated look he added, “Apparently William managed the business until he died in June.”

  Maddie processed the information and was taken aback. “So you haven’t seen your family in all this time?”

  He shifted uncomfortably and rested his hands on his hips. “Before you start, keep in mind that I was busy surviving. Not having a dime to your name makes it tough to keep in touch.”

  He’d had nothing, had been only eighteen and in New York on his own. Oh, Jack, she thought. Why did you put yourself through that when you had a family who loves you? But all she said was, “What happened?”

  “I survived.” He shrugged. “Eventually I received a small inheritance from an uncle on my mother’s side and I turned that into Valentine Ventures.”

  “Okay.” Maddie could understand being busy. “But after your business was successful what excuse did you give yourself for not seeing Emma?”

  “She was working on her own career as a chef for Bella Lucia.”

  “So what made you come back now?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  “After twelve years? I think so,” she said. “I can see it on your face. Looks a lot like guilt.”

  Jack shifted and in anyone else it would be called squirming. But the mighty Jack Valentine didn’t squirm. “Okay. Our parents split up and I took off. Emma was left to deal with the whole mess. She asked and I owed her.” He shrugged as if that explained everything. When she simply stared at him he frowned. “What?”

  Maddie folded her arms over her chest. “So you don’t get along with your father.”

  Jack looked at her as if she had two heads. “You heard what I said. He neglected his family and was unfaithful to my mother with his many women.”

  “Many women? And yet you think you’re nothing like him.” The thought of Jack’s women touched a nerve in that frozen place inside her. She wanted to keep herself numb and feel nothing, because the way she’d responded to his kiss told her the potential for pain was there in a big way. “The only difference is that you never married one of your many women. Why is that?”

  His gaze narrowed on her. “Because I like women.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Let’s just say I have more to offer as a friend and lover than a husband.” When she opened her mouth to ask more, he held up a hand. “Enough said.”

  Common sense and self-preservation were sending the same message. She couldn’t afford to let the attraction he’d stirred up boil over. That would be bad because he was industriously avoiding marriage and she wouldn’t settle for less. In college she’d been used as a bet. She’d tried again and learned the guy was using her to get to Jack for project capital. She wanted a man to love her and commit to her. She hadn’t yet given herself to a man because she wanted it to really mean something.

  She nodded. “Okay. But probably you should be heading to Heathrow.”

  “Because?”

  “You’re going back to New York today.”

  He looked down at her. “You’re determined to stay?”

  “Yes. I have vacation time coming and I’d like to see some of London.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Yes.” And she simply couldn’t resist tweaking him. “Or maybe Max would consider showing me around.”

  “Any tour my older brother would give, you wouldn’t want to take.” His voice was nearly a growl as he bit out the words.

  “You haven’t seen him in a dozen years, Jack. How would you know this?”

  “Because when I was here, Max was the older brother every guy wanted. He knew how to party and took me to the best of them. He introduced me to fast women and faster cars.”

  His reaction didn’t disappoint her, but it did make her curious. He’d never shown the slightest bit of emotion before when discussing her dates. What was different? Was it London? Or was it family tensions that brought out this side of Jack? This side was one she liked too much.

  “It sounds like Max would know where to take me. Don’t you worry. I’ll be fine. You have a good flight back.” She stood and started to go back to her room. “I’ll check out of the hotel after I find a place to stay.”

  He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Don’t bother.”

  “No bother. I’m sure I can get a room—”

  “I’ll stay.”

  “Are you sure? Business is waiting.”

  “We’ll work here.”

  “Good.” She smiled sweetly. There was just one more shove she wanted to give him. “Then you’ll have plenty of time to call your ultra cool older brother and he can get you up to speed on all the latest techniques with fast women.”

  “We caught up last night.”

  “Oh, please. I can’t believe you wouldn’t want to see him and reminisce about those women.” She lifted an eyebrow.

  “Not really.”

  “Here’s the thing, Jack. Either you get in touch with Max. Or I will.”

  “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

  “Just because.” Because she felt the conflict in him and sensed he didn’t know what to do about it. “And I’m serious.”

  He stared at her for several moments, taking her measure. Then he nodded grimly. “All right. I’ll call Max.”

  Jack was glad his brother had suggested they meet at a non-Valentine restaurant. Definitely neutral territory. Near Grosvenor Square, the restaurant Max had suggested was an elegant location oozing art-deco ambience—from its three-tiered light shades to the delicately etched glass panels in the windows.

  With Maddie between them, he and Max were seated in a quiet corner. As he studied his brother across the table that damn empty feeling twisted inside him again when he wondered where all the years had gone and what he’d missed.

  Max had ordered and approved a bottle of Alsace Pinot Blanc. He lifted his half-full wineglass. “To reunions.”

  “Reunions. Preferably not high school.” A musical tinkle sounded when Maddie touched glasses with each of them. “So, Max, unless I miss my guess you were flirting with me the other night. And I have t
o ask—is there a Mrs Max?”

  “No.”

  Jack wished there were, especially when he noticed his brother’s gaze lower to the neckline of Maddie’s black chiffon dress. If only it were up to her neck instead of low enough to reveal a tempting hint of cleavage. This was not a good place—torn between pleasure at seeing his brother again and a tightening knot in his gut that could be jealousy.

  He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to keep her away from Max, but thought it might have something to do with seeing a glimpse of that little girl who loved doll houses and believed in Santa. But he was well aware that Maddie was all grown up now. He’d given in to temptation and kissed her, a kiss that never should have happened.

  Maddie had accused him of being like his father, and she hadn’t meant it in a good way. The truth was, Robert Valentine had sired Max, too, and Jack didn’t know his brother any more. He had no idea if his brother was a womanizer like their father. But he wouldn’t let Maddie be hurt—not by Max or himself.

  “I can’t believe there’s not a special woman in your life, Max.” Jack wondered at his brother’s frown.

  “Believe it.”

  Maddie sipped her wine, then said, “Jack told me you taught him everything he knows about women.”

  “Did he now?” A gleam stole into Max’s eyes. “Did he happen to mention the line he used to meet women?”

  “No.” Maddie’s blue eyes were bright with curiosity. “What was it?”

  Jack groaned. “We don’t really need to talk about that.”

  “If I remember correctly,” Max said, ignoring him, “it was, ‘Haven’t I seen you somewhere?’ Followed two beats later by ‘Oh, yes. You were in my dreams.’”

  “No!” The look she settled on him was both appalled and amused. “Tell me he’s making that up.”

  “I wish I could,” Jack said ruefully, but the memory made him laugh. The times with his brother stood out bright and happy in a past that was littered with darkness and pain.

  “Did it work?” she asked.

  “Brilliantly,” Max answered. “He made me so proud.”

  Maddie shook her head. “I’m deeply ashamed of my gender, to fall for a line like that.”

  “The line had nothing to do with it,” Max said. “It was the legendary Valentine charisma.”

  “Oh, please,” she protested. “Jack was eighteen. And teenage girls are notoriously vulnerable.”

  Jack didn’t like to think about a vulnerable Maddie fending off men. No one knew better than he how single-minded a man could be when he wanted a woman. “Is that experience talking?” he asked her.

  “I like to think I was smarter than the average teenage girl.” Maddie smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  Jack leaned back and rested his arm along the top of the leather booth, very near her smooth-as-silk shoulder. He struggled to keep his mind on the conversation and off imagining what the bare flesh under her black chiffon was like. “Max tutored me, but there was some skill involved. I had to pull out all the stops to compete with him.”

  “I’m seven years older,” Max scoffed. “It was no contest.”

  “For you.” The words were out before Jack thought and he hoped no one picked up on it.

  Maddie took her linen napkin and settled it in her lap. “So you felt competition?”

  He should have known she’d zero in on the slip since not much got by her. Still, it had been a long time ago. He had nothing to lose by admitting the truth. “Yes, I felt it.”

  Max frowned. “I wish I’d known. The truth is that the age difference made it an uneven playing field.” He turned a grin on Maddie. “And that wasn’t his only disadvantage. I got all the Valentine charm and I’d be delighted to give you an opportunity to judge that for yourself.”

  “Back off, Max.” Jack was consumed by another unreasonable flash of jealousy mixed with a healthy portion of protectiveness. “Maddie’s working. She doesn’t have time for—”

  “A personal life?” she interrupted. “Maybe it’s time I made an exception.”

  “Not with Max,” he snapped.

  “Apparently you haven’t outgrown your competitive streak.” Max lifted one dark eyebrow. “Just so the rules of engagement are clear, are we rivals over women in general? Your assistant in particular? Or does the competition include anything else?”

  “Not any more,” Jack snapped, refusing to discuss Maddie.

  “Meaning?” Max asked.

  “Nothing. It’s not important.”

  Maddie stared at him. “If it’s not important, what’s the harm in telling him?”

  Jack knew the issue would have more importance than it deserved if he didn’t answer. He met Max’s gaze. “I always felt as if I was competing with you for Dad’s attention and respect.”

  “If that’s the case,” Max said evenly, “fate has given you the perfect opportunity to get the upper hand.”

  Jack glared at his brother. “Here comes the pitch for money.”

  “Emma told you about the financial problems we’re having,” Max guessed.

  “She did.” Jack noted the steely look in his brother’s eyes. “If I got involved, I’d expect controlling interest. Taking the business apart and selling it in pieces holds some appeal.”

  “How can you even consider that? You’re a Valentine,” Max snapped.

  “By birth, yes.” Jack tensed. “But in practice I haven’t been one for a long time.”

  Max scowled. “It’s more than business. It’s a heritage.”

  “Not from my perspective.”

  “So you’re turning your back.” Max’s mouth pulled tight. “I should have expected that.”

  “Meaning what?” Jack demanded.

  “It’s what you do best. You wanted Dad’s respect but all you managed to get was his attention—and not in a good way. Screwing up a big event at the restaurant, then taking off to parts unknown, is irresponsible. Me, Emma, the rest of the family—” Max shook his head. “We didn’t know for a long time if you were dead or alive. You wanted respect? Selfish, self-centered behavior isn’t the way to get it.”

  Jack curled his hands into fists. “You have no idea what happened.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  For a moment, Jack recalled what his mother had done, what he himself had done to keep the truth from his father. He could still see the furious contempt on Robert Valentine’s face when he’d said Jack wouldn’t amount to anything. That he couldn’t stand the sight of him. That he was his mother’s son because no son of his could be so incompetent.

  “Forget it.” Jack felt the rage surge through him—red and righteous and consuming. He started to rise, then felt Maddie’s hand on his.

  “Jack, put yourself in your brother’s place. How would you have felt if Emma had disappeared without a word? Or Max? Or someone else you cared about?”

  He looked into her blue eyes, filled with concern and compassion. The softness and warmth of her fingers seared through him and touched that cold, empty place that never seemed to fill up. Her words, her cool logic slowly penetrated and cooled his anger.

  Something unfamiliar pulled tight in his chest as he thought about her disappearing from his life. He relied on her in business. He respected and admired her. On top of that she was a beautiful woman. But this…attraction…wasn’t about business. And if it wasn’t about business, he wouldn’t let it be anything. He was a risk-taker, but he wouldn’t risk losing her.

  Jack flexed his fingers, forcing himself to relax. “Okay, Max. You have a point. I left without a word.”

  “Did you just admit you were wrong?” she asked, one slender eyebrow lifting.

  He met her gaze and grinned. “No.”

  Max laughed, lightening the mood. “Another Valentine characteristic, I’m afraid.”

  “A blessing and a curse,” Maddie commented.

  Max smiled at her, then met his gaze. “Seriously, Jack. The business was profitable once. The cash flow problem is simply the re
sult of money being misappropriated. Dad is a brilliant businessman.”

  “I never said he wasn’t.”

  “They say you’re a lot like him.”

  “I’ve heard that, too.” And he was sick and tired of hearing it.

  “You need to go see him,” Max continued. “Obviously you didn’t get where you are by being stupid and it would be stupid to let emotion influence your good judgment. Bella Lucia is a good investment. Trust me.”

  Jack nodded. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  He saw the look in Maddie’s eyes and knew “it” was going to get more than thought.

  Chapter Five

  CHAPTER FIVE

  BACK in the suite and comfortable in velour pants and matching cardigan jacket, Maddie cradled a snifter of brandy in her hands. It was cold outside and she was grateful for the liquid fire that warmed her clear down inside. She’d been warmed in a different way when Jack had instructed the driver to take them on a tour of London at night, which was probably the best time to see any city. Darkness and strategically placed lights hid flaws and highlighted perfection. Kind of like Jack. He was the kind of man whose perfect looks turned heads, but she was finding out his life was anything but perfect.

  She was sitting on the sofa with her feet tucked beneath her watching him pace back and forth in front of the windows. “So you’ll think about seeing your father?”

  “I said I would.”

  “Have you made up your mind already, or is there really something to think about?” she persisted.

  “Always.”

  “Is that why you’re pacing like a man in charge of quality control in carpet durability?”

  He stopped mid-pace, then walked over and sat beside her. The sofa cushion dipped from his weight and his nearness seemed to suck all the oxygen out of the air. She wondered why she’d never noticed that at the office in New York, or if oxygen deprivation was a fact of life after kissing Jack. If so, that would make it difficult to continue doing the job she loved.

  “Pacing helps me get rid of excess energy,” he said.

  She tapped her fingernail against the side of her glass and a crystal tinkling sounded. “Hmm.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked sharply.