Crazy About The Boss Read online

  “I’m not leaving you with him in a mood—”

  “It’s all right.” Cathy smiled. “This conversation is long overdue.”

  Aidan hesitated, then forced a smile for her. “If that’s what you want, love.”

  Maddie stood and put a hand on his arm as she met his mother’s gaze. “I think I’ll stay with Jack.”

  Cathy took her measure, then finally nodded. “That’s fine, then.”

  When his mother’s lover was gone, Jack said, “Is he good to you?”

  “Aidan?” Her smile was soft. “Very.”

  “Are you married?”

  “He’s proposed many times and I’ve turned down every one.”

  “Why?” Maddie asked softly.

  Cathy gripped the top of the ladder-back chair. “The truth? I married your father because I was pregnant with you, Jack, and had to. I’m with Aidan because I love him and for no other reason.”

  “Maddie says marriage is a measure of commitment.”

  “I said,” Maddie interjected, “that it’s the right thing for me. I don’t judge anyone else.”

  Cathy smiled. “She’s a wise one. Aidan tells me he loves me and shows me as much in everything he does. It’s all the commitment I need.”

  “He’s younger,” Jack pointed out, not sure why that was important.

  “He is, yes. And he keeps me young. He respects me and my opinions. He has expectations of me that I find myself wanting to meet.”

  The words touched a nerve and Jack wasn’t sure why. “What about your drinking?”

  “Jack—”

  Maddie put her hand on his arm again and the touch steadied him. But the words were already out there. He refused to feel like a bastard even though the blunt question bleached the pretty pink from Cathy’s cheeks.

  Her chin lifted and she met his gaze squarely. “You’re confident and self-assured, Jack. You always have been. Though you can’t understand, I’ll tell you because you asked. I did drink too much in those days—to help me cope. I was barely twenty-one and overwhelmed by the demands of being a mother. Living in the shadow of my husband’s love for another woman.”

  “More than one,” Jack murmured.

  “Yes.” Her mouth compressed slightly. “But there was only one he loved. Diana.”

  Jack knew about her, his father’s second wife. He had half-sisters, Rachel and Rebecca, who’d been raised by their mother in the States.

  “When she passed away,” Cathy continued, “Robert told me that he would never love another woman the way he loved her. The day I drank too much and…did what I did…at Bella Lucia was the day I received the divorce papers. I was losing my husband and there was nothing I could do.”

  This wasn’t the same defenseless woman who’d begged him not to let Robert know what she’d done. This woman didn’t need him to protect her. She had Aidan, although Jack suspected she didn’t need him either.

  “You’ve changed.” Resentment tinged his tone.

  “I have, yes, hopefully for the better.” Her smile was sad and apologetic.

  “You told Emma what happened,” Maddie said gently.

  “That Jack protected me?” Cathy nodded as she met his gaze, her own troubled. “I know you promised to keep my secret but I’ll always hate myself for asking it of you. I’m your mother. I should have protected you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Jack, I don’t know what happened,” Maddie said, gentle censure in her voice. “And I don’t need details. But your mother is trying to apologize.”

  “It’s all right, Maddie.” Cathy sighed. “He has every right to be angry. Jack paid too high a price.”

  Damn right, he thought. She’d lost a husband that night, but he’d lost his family. He’d lost everything.

  The look in his mother’s eyes pleaded for his understanding. “Your father’s not a bad man, just flawed. He couldn’t love me, and I don’t think I was in love with him either. He didn’t make me happy, anyway.”

  Now that she knows what happiness looks like, he thought, remembering Emma’s words.

  “What happened with your father and me had nothing to do with how he felt about you and Emma. He always adored his children. He especially thought the sun rose and set on you, Jack.”

  “He had a funny way of showing it,” Jack bit out.

  “I’ve forgiven him, son. It’s time you did, too.”

  Maddie took his hand in both of hers and forced him to look at her. “Your mother is right, Jack. The past is eating away at your present and robbing you of a future. You need to let it go so you can move on. For your own sake.”

  Move on? Jack felt as if he’d been stranded on a desert island for the last twelve years and was just rescued, only to find out everyone he cared about had moved on without him. His mother was happy and at peace, yet he was angry and resentful. What kind of a son was he? What kind of man?

  He looked into Maddie’s trusting eyes. Beautiful Maddie. His sensible, stubborn Maddie. He was a selfish bastard for dragging her into this mess. The very least he could do was protect her from himself.

  Chapter Eight

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JACK had left her stranded!

  Not stranded, exactly, Maddie admitted. Aidan had dropped her off at the hotel. But what was up with Jack? He had his faults, a great many, but leaving her without a word of explanation was not at all like him. And she was really uneasy.

  She hurried inside and punched the up button to summon the elevator. When the doors didn’t open instantly, she jabbed several more times. “Stupid lift,” she muttered.

  His mother had been upset and said he had every right to be angry and it was completely her fault. But when Maddie had pressed for details, Cathy had firmly told her she’d have to ask Jack.

  “Darn right I’m going to ask him.” She jabbed the call button again for the elevator that would take her to the suite. Assuming he hadn’t left her stranded in Ireland as well as the outskirts of Dublin.

  Fear knotted inside her. This wasn’t just out of char acter for Jack, it was scary out of character. She’d seen the disapproval rippling through him for Aidan, but didn’t understand what fueled it. His parents were divorced and had been for many years, which explained a lot about why Jack didn’t do commitment. But anyone could see that Cathy looked happy and a ring on her finger wouldn’t make a difference. So what was Jack’s problem?

  The elevator doors finally opened. “Thank God.”

  When it arrived on the top floor, Maddie hurried down the hall to the suite. She unlocked the door, then walked inside, flipping on the light. She stopped suddenly when the shadows disappeared and she saw Jack sitting on the love seat. Had he been alone in the dark all this time?

  “That was low, Jack.” She dropped her coat and purse on a chair. “Why did you take off like that?”

  The layout was not unlike their suite in London, with the exception of a corner fireplace. Flames crackled there now. But Jack still hadn’t acknowledged her.

  “Jack?” Hands on hips, she stared at him.

  In front of him on the coffee table was a bottle of Irish whiskey and a tumbler half full of the stuff. It looked untouched.

  “You left me, Jack.”

  “I had to get out of there.”

  “No kidding. Why?”

  He picked up the whiskey glass and turned it, studying the amber liquid as if it were the cure for a dreaded disease.

  What had been unease blossomed into full-blown worry. “Jack, are you all right?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The Jack she knew would never admit that. This more introspective man reached in and grabbed her by the heart. In seconds she was sitting beside him. She touched his forehead, testing for fever. Then she looked in his eyes and saw his wounded soul.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You were right about me, Maddie. I’m a despicable person.”

  “I never said that,” she protested.

  He turned his head
and his gaze locked on hers with mesmerizing intensity. “You said I was like my father. It’s the same thing.”

  She’d said that in a moment of anger, embarrassment, and self-preservation. She’d needed to push him away. This wasn’t the time to point out that most likely his father had many positive qualities. “You’re a good man.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong. My mother is happy and it ticked me off. If that isn’t despicable, I need to look up the meaning of the word.”

  “What drove you away twelve years ago, Jack?”

  He said nothing, although the look he turned on her was dark, desperate and dangerous, but she was determined.

  She rested her hands in her lap. “Since we arrived on Christmas everyone has been dancing around it. Whatever ‘it’ is. You might as well tell me because I won’t let up until you do.”

  He stared at her wordlessly, so long she was sure he would call her bluff. Then he set the glass of whiskey on the table without drinking.

  “I badgered my father to give me some responsibility at Bella Lucia. There was a big event, very high profile. A wedding, some politician’s daughter.” He stared straight ahead and his voice was monotone, hinting that he was barely keeping his emotions in check. “The flu was going around and restaurant staff was getting sick. Dad was desperate, but he gave me a chance to prove myself.”

  He stopped and she could almost see the memories playing through his mind. His mouth pulled tight and Maddie wanted to say something, encourage, but she was afraid to interrupt and break the spell.

  “I was focused and in control,” he continued. “The food was prepared, liquor on hand, wedding cake waiting—”

  She put her hand on his arm, encouragement and support. But she didn’t say anything.

  “The day of the event I got to the restaurant early in the morning. To go through my game plan, make sure things were absolutely ready. Leave nothing to chance. But chance has a way of biting you in the ass.”

  “What?” she asked softly.

  “My mother was there. Passed out drunk. She’d lashed out at my father because of the divorce. It looked like the kitchen threw up. Food was destroyed. The cake—”

  “Oh, Jack.” She shook her head, pity for that eager, ambitious young man coursing through her. “But I don’t understand. Why was your father angry with you? When he saw your mother and the mess—”

  “He never did. I managed to get her out and clean the place up. It looked like nothing happened. And I mean nothing.”

  Maddie thought about it and connected the dots. “He thought the food had never been prepared in the first place.”

  “It was pathetically easy for him to believe the worst,” Jack confirmed bitterly.

  “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

  “She was so fragile. The divorce was a fresh wound.” His voice was distant, as if he could still see Cathy that night. “He’d have completely destroyed her if he’d found out. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “What did he say?” Maddie was afraid to hear his answer, but knew he had to tell it.

  “That I was incompetent. A screw-up. No good to anyone. And I’d never amount to anything.”

  And ever since, he’d paid with his heart and soul trying to prove the man wrong. “Oh, Jack—”

  “He told me to get out and I obliged.”

  And he’d never been back after lying to his father with the noblest of intentions. Her heart ached for Jack, for the years of loneliness and pain he’d suffered.

  “How does protecting your mother make you despicable?” she asked softly, hoping he would see in himself what she did.

  His gaze was overflowing with wry self-incrimination. “She moved on. She’s forgiven my father. She’s content with her significant other. Don’t get me wrong.” He surged to his feet and moved to the window, staring out while the muscle in his cheek flexed. “No one knows or understands the toll that living with my father took on her better than I do. But I resent her happiness.”

  His mother had found love and companionship while the son who’d shielded her had gone on alone. Contrary to his father’s prediction, he was incredibly successful. Admiration and something far deeper grew inside her. But she couldn’t deal with that right now. This was about Jack and he needed her.

  Maddie rose and walked over to him. “That only makes you human, Jack.”

  He didn’t look at her. “The irony is that I was only trying to prove to my father that I was worth something. And I failed.”

  “You’re wrong, Jack. You protected your mother. You proved you’re worth more than all of them put together.”

  He didn’t acknowledge the comforting words. “So that’s it. The whole ugly story. Aren’t you sorry you asked?”

  “No. Your mother should never have asked you to do what you did. But I’ll say this again because it’s very important. You need to forgive your father. If you don’t, the ugly past will continue to have the power to hurt you.”

  “I don’t think I can do that.”

  She put her hand on his arm, needing to touch him, hoping it would make him hear her—believe her. “You built a multimillion-dollar company with practically nothing. In my opinion you’ve amounted to something—and more. It’s time you stopped working to prove your worth and work on allowing yourself to be happy.”

  He shrugged off her hand. “I’m tired of this.” He sighed. “I’m tired, period. Goodnight, Maddie.”

  She stared at his broad back as he abruptly walked into the master bedroom. It was said that a woman could judge the character of a man by the way he treated his mother. She was stunned by the fact that Jack Valentine, the man she’d assumed was shallow as a cookie sheet, had depths and dimensions and more character than she’d ever suspected. He’d protected his mother, taken the blame for her angry, vindictive actions, and his reward was exile.

  He wasn’t simply a good-looking man she was attracted to. He was the man she was falling in love with. And he’d been left alone too much. She wouldn’t do it to him, too.

  Before Maddie could think it to death and talk herself out of it, she followed him. She crawled up on the bed to kneel beside him, then put her arms around him.

  They sat like that for a long time before he reached up and pulled her into his lap and held her close. “I’ve never told anyone about that night, Maddie.”

  “I’m glad you told me.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder.

  Jack clawed his way out of sleep with the feeling that everything was wrong, starting with the fact that he wasn’t alone in bed. A woman was lying half on top of him, her gently rounded breasts nuzzling his chest. He opened his eyes. A sliver of light from the living room caressed Maddie’s tousled blonde hair and created a nimbus. One of her shapely jean-covered legs was carelessly thrown over his and her small hand rested on his chest. He let out a long breath, one part tension, three parts relief.

  Maddie hadn’t left him.

  She felt sweet and so right just where she was. He tightened his arms around her and there was another breathy sigh of contentment, as if she connected with him on some elemental level and was at peace here with him.

  Him. Jack Valentine, bachelor bastard.

  They must have fallen asleep. He’d told her his secret, shared his dark resentment and it had been draining. God knew he’d felt as if someone had pulled the plug on his emotional power source. Yet, she hadn’t turned away. In fact, she’d defended him and his actions. Maddie didn’t hesitate to call him on the bad stuff he did, and there were times it annoyed the hell out of him. So annoying, in fact, that he’d wondered more than once why he’d brought her with him to London.

  But her honesty made this moment all the sweeter because it made the good stuff she said about him almost believable. And he’d needed her, needed someone to talk to after seeing his mother.

  He gently pressed his lips to the top of Maddie’s head and breathed in the intoxicating scent that was perfume and sensuous, seductive woman.
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  She stirred against him, pressing her body to his, mumbling as if trying to get closer. He could almost feel the heat of her feminine center caressing him. All the blood drained from his head and pooled south of his belt. He was hard. He was ready.

  He wanted her.

  Her fingers flexed on his chest and she started to pull away until he covered her hand with his own to hold it in place. His heart was beating, pounding, a roaring sound in his ears.

  Maddie stretched again and he could feel her go from complete relaxation to groggy awareness. “Jack?”

  “I’m here, Maddie.”

  She was silent for several moments, thinking. Figuring out where she was. Remembering what he’d told her. She nestled her cheek on his chest. “Are you all right?”

  Since he’d expected her to pull away as soon as it sank in where she was, the question regarding his state of mind took him by surprise.

  “I’m fine.” Better than fine. Not alone.

  He was New York’s most eligible bachelor. A ladies’ man who’d had a great many women and awakened with most of them, yet still felt isolated. It disturbed him that he didn’t feel that way now.

  “Thanks for—”

  She touched a finger to his mouth, silencing him. “Don’t say it. I’m glad I was here. I hope it helped.”

  In answer, he took her wrist in his hand and pressed her palm to his mouth. Her body went still, frozen in anticipation. One by one, he took her fingers into his mouth and sucked gently. When he touched the tip of his tongue to the tender, sensitive skin between her index and middle fingers, he heard her sharp intake of breath. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a rhythm she’d probably picked up from him.

  “Jack—” Her voice was a breathy whisper full of need and hunger. “Jack, please kiss me. I liked it so much when you did.”

  “But, I didn’t think you—”

  “I couldn’t let on. Because— Well, it’s not important now. Things are different. After—” She cupped his cheek in her hand. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Just kiss me.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, but his lips were already taking hers. He wasn’t sure of anything except he couldn’t seem to stop himself.