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Jet Set Confessions (HQR Desire) Page 7
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Best bet he’d ever made. “Yeah.”
“Then what do we do now?”
Images filled his mind, and heat roared through his bloodstream. He shoved them all aside, hoping she was thinking the same things. “Your call.”
She looked up at him, smiled and said, “Ice cream.”
“What?” That was so far off from where his mind was that he didn’t know how to process it for a second or two. She went from a passion-fueled kiss hot enough to consume them both to...ice cream?
“I saw a great-looking creamery just a block or so from here.”
Luke really didn’t know what the hell to make of Fiona. He liked her. He wanted her. He worried about getting too close to her. But following her train of thought wasn’t easy.
Still. Maybe ice cream would freeze the fires inside. Worth a shot.
Five
A couple of hours later, Fiona heard her best friend answer the phone and blurted out, “Help me.”
“Who is this?”
Fiona choked out a laugh. “Laura, not kidding. I think I’m in deep trouble here.”
Laura’s tone changed instantly from teasing to worried. “What’s wrong?”
Sighing a little, Fiona smiled to herself. She knew she could count on Laura Baker. Laura and her husband, Mike, owned the Long Beach duplex where Fiona lived. The Bakers had the three-bedroom unit and Fiona was up front in the one bedroom. From the moment Fiona had moved in a few years ago, the two women had bonded as if they’d known each other their entire lives.
And for Fiona that was a gift like nothing she’d ever known before. Oh, she had a huge circle of “friends” that she’d deliberately made along the way, to somehow fill the emptiness that never having a family of her own had carved into her heart. But finding Laura was like living her whole life alone and suddenly discovering she had a sister.
Like she’d told Luke, she’d grown up in a series of foster homes, bouncing like the proverbial Ping-Pong ball throughout Orange County. Until she was sixteen and was sent to Julie Maxwell. Julie was more than a foster mom. She had become Mom. She’d given Fiona the stability and sense of belonging that she’d always dreamed of. And when Fiona aged out of the system, Julie had insisted that she stay on at the house and go to school. Julie was the only real mother Fiona had ever known and she’d always be grateful.
She was just as thankful to have Laura in her life. Laura was short, blonde and, as her husband liked to say, stacked. She was also the most sensible human Fiona had ever known and the first one she went to with a problem. And she had a beauty to talk about this time.
“It’s Luke Barrett. He’s too sexy.”
Laura laughed. “Is that even possible? Isn’t that like too skinny? Too rich? Who ever heard of too sexy?”
Mike shouted in the background, “Thanks, babe!”
“Wasn’t talking to you,” Laura called back with a laugh, then asked Fiona, “What’s going on?”
Fiona clutched the phone and paced aimlessly. Standing in this beautiful hotel room, all alone, she imagined that she was sitting next to Laura on her big leather sofa and immediately felt better. She stopped at the windows and stared out at San Francisco, draped in lights that made the city look magical at night. “This job. It’s not turning out like I thought it would.”
“Hold on.” Then she called out to her husband. “Mike, bring me a glass of wine, will you?” Back to Fiona, she said, “I’m thinking I’m going to need one. Am I wrong?”
“Tell him to bring the bottle.”
“Well, now I’m intrigued. Okay, I’ve got my wine. Travis is tucked into bed. I’m all yours. Talk.”
So she did. While she continued to pace like a tiger in a too-small cage, Fiona told Laura everything that had happened from the moment she’d dropped into Luke’s lap. Through it all, Laura only gave a murmured “Oooh” and a few sighs.
Finally, Fiona told her about the kiss that had singed every nerve ending she had and ended up with, “What do I do now?”
“Have sex?” Laura asked.
“Great idea!” Mike shouted, his voice coming clearly through the phone.
Fiona laughed again and felt the tight knot in her chest begin to dissolve. This is what she’d needed. To talk it all out with Laura. To be back in her “normal” zone. “I can’t. It wouldn’t be ethical. Would it?”
“Ethics, schmethics,” Laura said. “Is he married?”
“No!”
“You’re not either. So, what’s the problem?”
“Um...” Fiona waved one hand in the air. “How about I’m lying to him? I’m working for his grandfather. This whole trip was paid for by Jamison Barrett just so I could convince Luke to go back to the family business.”
“And did you take a celibacy pledge when I wasn’t looking?”
“No, but—”
“Are you hoping that he’s the one and you’ll find happily-ever-after with him?”
Okay, she could admit that it wouldn’t have taken much to imagine a perfect future with Luke as a gorgeous husband and father to a few beautiful kids. But that wasn’t the point. Because the chances of anything like that happening were way out there.
“No, of course not, but—”
“Do you want him?”
Easy question to answer, given that her blood was still burning, and she could still taste his mouth on hers. “Oh, yes.”
“So stop being so tortured. Go to bed with the man. Enjoy yourself.” Laura took a breath, then said, “Let’s face it. He’s going to be furious when he finds out what’s going on anyway. You’ve already said there’s no future with the guy. So why not have the memory of great sex to help you through it?”
“Maybe he won’t find out,” Fiona argued. And really, if the job went well, he shouldn’t. He should just go back to the family business and pick up his life without ever knowing that the woman he spent a long weekend with was the reason why he’d changed his life around.
“He’ll find out, sweetie,” Laura said. “If you want something to stay secret, that’s practically a guarantee that it won’t.”
“That’s helpful.” Fiona frowned as she caught her own reflection in the window glass. She hated the idea of Luke thinking she was a liar. That she’d felt nothing for him. Because despite her best efforts to remain professional, she couldn’t help being drawn to him.
Laura sighed. “I think I’m going to need more wine. Fiona, do you like this guy?”
“I really do,” she admitted, thinking back over the last couple of days. Luke was funny and gorgeous and smart, and men like that didn’t grow on trees. “That’s the problem, you know? I really do like him.”
“Then enjoy him. Stop overthinking everything. Just accept this for what it is and appreciate it while it lasts.”
Could she do that?
“Stop thinking,” Laura said as if she could see the indecision written on Fiona’s face. “Just relax for once and go with it.”
She wasn’t the most impulsive person in the world. And she definitely wasn’t the one-night-stand kind of woman. Heck, it had been nearly a year since her last date. She liked to take her time. Get to know a guy before she had sex with him. Color her old-fashioned. But her personal rules seemed to be flying out a window when it came to Luke Barrett. She was so far out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t even see it.
Luke Barrett was the kind of man who came along once in a lifetime. Fiona thought about him. Remembered that kiss. The way he felt pressed up against her. The fire in his eyes when he looked at her.
And she knew, trouble or not, she was going to risk it.
* * *
Late the next morning, Jamison Barrett was in his study at home. Church services with Loretta were finished and the rest of the day was his. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself, though. In spite of his wife’s assurances, Jamison
was worried. If he was losing his mind, then he needed Luke back more than ever. And if Fiona Jordan failed at her task, Jamison didn’t know how he’d manage it.
“Hey, Pop.”
He looked up from his desk, startled to see his oldest grandson stroll into the room. “Cole? What’re you doing here?”
“What do you mean?” Cole laughed a little uncertainly and tucked one hand into the pocket of his casual slacks. “We’ve had this planned for a week.”
“Hello, Pop.” Susan came in behind Cole, carrying Oliver, a blond boy with big blue eyes like his mother’s and a smile just like Cole’s.
“Susan!” Jamison came around the desk and scooped Oliver into his arms. “I wasn’t expecting you and this little devil.”
Susan smoothed her perfect hair and gave him a curious look. “I thought we were set for brunch today after your meeting with Cole...”
Jamison felt a hot jolt that he hopefully managed to hide. Oliver slapped both hands together in excitement and shouted, “Papa!”
Grinning at his great-grandson, Jamison set the toddler onto his feet and said, “Go see Nana in the kitchen. She’s always got cookies.”
The boy took off like a shot and not surprisingly, Susan was right behind him. How the woman managed to run in three-inch heels was beyond Jamison, but if there was one thing you could say about his granddaughter-in-law, she was devoted to her son.
When she and the boy were gone, Jamison turned to look at Cole. “Not that I’m unhappy to see all of you...but why are you here and what’s this about brunch?”
Cole just stared at him for a long minute. “We’ve got a meeting scheduled for today about the new Christmas line, Pop.”
Jamison frowned and shook his head. “That’s tomorrow.”
“No,” Cole said softly, carefully. “It’s today. You said you wanted to get it out of the way on Sunday so you could talk to marketing tomorrow at work.”
Jamison scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. He didn’t remember saying that. Or even thinking it.
“And you said since we’d be working at the house, I should bring Susan and Oliver, and we’d do a Sunday brunch at the yacht club.”
Jamison took a breath and held it. It was as if Cole were speaking Greek. He didn’t remember anything about this. This didn’t make sense. None of it did. A man didn’t wake up one morning to find a giant hole in his metaphorical marble bag. Wasn’t this something that slipped up on you? Weren’t there small signs before big ones—like forgetting entire conversations?
“Are you okay, Pop?” Cole’s gaze was steady and filled with the concern Jamison hated to see.
“Fine. I just forgot, is all.” He was forgetting too damn much here lately, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Cole. Or anyone else, for that matter—except Loretta, of course.
“You wrote it into your calendar last week.”
Had he? Jamison searched his memory, but he didn’t remember changing the meeting to Sunday. Worry coiled inside him like a snake. But just as quickly, he dismissed it. Damn it, he knew he’d set up that meeting for Monday. Irritated now, Jamison opened the calendar program on his computer. His home computer and his work unit were linked, so he could make changes or plans at either location.
Cole was the one who’d given him this program, telling Jamison that it would make his life easier. How in the hell going through a program was easier than a damn pen and paper was beyond him, but since it was a gift, Jamison had felt obligated to use it. “I know I wrote it down, boy. For tomorrow.”
He scrolled through the program until he found what he was looking for and once he had, he felt worse than ever. There it was. Sunday—Cole: Christmas line. Brunch with family.
He swallowed back a knot of fear lodged in his throat. What the hell was happening to him? He never forgot a meeting. Hell, up until last year, he’d kept all of his appointments in his head and had never missed one.
Now he glared at the screen accusingly. As if it had somehow changed what he’d written.
“Pop?”
Cole’s voice was hesitant, filled with distress, and Jamison hated it. He didn’t need sympathy or concern. And he wanted it less.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, in spite of the niggling doubts rattling through him. If there was a problem, he’d take care of it himself. The last thing he needed was people fluttering about him, treating him like a damn invalid—or worse. Pushing those thoughts aside, Jamison looked at his grandson and forced a smile he was nowhere near feeling.
Cole had his own wife and son to worry about. He didn’t need to be thinking that his grandfather was on a slippery slope, balanced on one leg.
“Must have been too busy to notice,” he said brusquely. “With Luke gone, I’m having to pick up a lot of slack in the company.”
“You don’t have to do it alone, Pop,” Cole said stiffly. “I’m your grandson, too, you know. If you need help at the business, tell me. I can take over Luke’s accounts. He’s not the only one of us who grew up working at Barrett Toys and Tech.”
Well, Jamison thought, he’d walked right into that one. It was a bone of contention for Cole that he wasn’t stepping into Luke’s shoes.
“I know that,” he said, nodding. Cole was the oldest, but if truth be told, Luke was the more mature one. The one with the vision to see the company and where it could go. The fact that they were now arguing about that vision didn’t matter. Cole was more about being in the moment rather than seeing the big picture, and that wasn’t a trait that made for a good company president.
Still, he didn’t need to get into all of that now. Looking at Cole, Jamison told himself that maybe he was being too hard on the boy. But he’d watched Luke and Cole grow up. He’d seen their personalities develop and though he loved them both, Jamison wasn’t blind to their faults. Luke was always in the future, ignoring the present—and Cole was interested in a paycheck, but not the work.
“Maybe soon,” Jamison hedged, “we’ll have a talk about that.” But if Fiona Jordan did the job he was paying her to accomplish, he wouldn’t have to. Still, Cole knew nothing about that. “For right now, though, we’ll go on the way we have been.” He nodded and winked at Cole. “You never know, Luke might come back.”
“Sure, Pop.” Disappointment and frustration briefly crossed Cole’s features, but an instant later, he’d buried whatever he was feeling beneath his usual smile. “We’ll do it your way for now.”
“That’s good. So,” Jamison said, sitting down at his desk again, “if you’re ready, we can take care of this meeting right now.”
“Okay.” Cole took a seat, opened up his tablet and started talking.
Jamison listened. He really did. He even made notes when appropriate. But the back of his mind was filled with whispering voices, and none of them were comforting.
* * *
An hour later, Fiona somehow found herself on Luke’s private jet, feeling like a peasant in a palace.
She was used to dragging herself through security, waiting at a crowded gate on uncomfortable chairs and then squeezing into tiny seats built for a butt a little smaller than her own.
This kind of luxury, she told herself as she looked at her surroundings, was going to make flying coach even more miserable in the future. There were two black leather sofas on either side of the sleek jet, and toward the front of the plane, a conversational group of six black leather chairs faced one another.
There were tables, reading lamps and a thick, plush white carpet on the floor. A flat-screen TV was on one wall and there were even fresh flowers in a copper vase that had been bolted to one of the tables. Slowly, she sank down onto one of the sofas and idly ran one hand across the cool, smooth surface, as if to convince herself she was really there and not dreaming.
Her gaze locked on Luke, talking with his own private flight attendant, the pilot and the copilot. She�
��d been introduced to all three of them when she’d come aboard and had even had a brief tour of the cockpit—an impressive and confusing wall of switches, lights and buttons.
And as distracted as she was by the plane and the luxury of not having to fight through a crowded airport, Fiona could barely take her eyes off Luke.
He wore a dark blue suit, pale blue shirt and scarlet tie. His hair, for some reason, kept capturing her attention. Too long for a businessman and too short for a surfer, and her fingers itched to touch it. His eyes were so blue, she felt as if she could drown in them. And when he turned his head to look at her, she felt a sharp jolt of electricity that set every nerve in her body sizzling.
It was that look that had kept her sleepless the night before. That knowing gleam in his eyes. Well, that and the memory of the kiss they’d shared in the garden. She had the distinct feeling she would remember that kiss even if she lived to be one hundred.
The feel of him pressed against her. The rush of his mouth on hers, his breath sliding into her lungs. The fire he’d kindled inside her had burned brightly all night, driving her half-crazy with an aching need that still throbbed with every beat of her heart.
Her gaze locked with his, Fiona realized she was sorry this weekend was over. It had started out as a job, but somehow it had become more than that. Now she was caught up in something completely different and she had no idea how it would end. Or where they would go from here.
When they were back in Orange County, she’d have to keep seeing him—that had been the original plan, after all. She still had to convince him to go back to the family company. But with that kiss, she had realized she wanted to keep seeing him because she simply wanted to. But sleeping with him was something else entirely. If she did and then he walked away at the end of the weekend, then she’d failed at her job. And there was still a big lie hanging between them that she really didn’t want to think about. And what if he expected their weekend to end, well, with the weekend?