Prodigal Son (6 page)

“I’m surprised no one ever made any offer to buy the company out,” she said. “So much of entertainment is now controlled by conglomerates.”

“For all I know my father’s been fighting off offers for years. He wouldn’t sell and risk losing his name on the letterhead.”

He sounded bitter as he spoke. “You don’t agree?” she asked.

“It’s not my thing. I don’t need to be the center of the universe, at least as my father defined it.”

They’d reached the park.

“The dog zone is on the other side,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind the hike.”

“Exercise is my friend,” she said with a grin. “At least that’s what I tell myself.”

“There’s a gym in the building.”

“They showed it to me on my tour. Very impressive.” There had been several treadmills and ellipticals, along with weight machines and three sets of free weights.

“I work out every morning,” Jack said. “It’s pretty quiet at five.”

“In the morning?” She shuddered. “That’s because more normal people are sleeping. I can’t believe you get up that early.”

“I’m lucky. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“Apparently not. Most of the year, it’s dark at that time.”

“They have lights in the gym.”

They’d need more than that to get her there. Coffee, for starters. And bagels.

“I’m not really into the whole sweat thing,” Samantha told him. “I’ve been lucky. I don’t seem to gain weight.”

It sort of went with what was kindly referred to as a boyish figure. She decided it was a trade-off. Sure she didn’t have anything to fill out her bras and padding was required to hint at anything resembling cleavage, but she’d never counted calories or given up carbs. She could eat what she wanted and still have the world’s boniest butt.

“Exercise isn’t just about weight loss. It keeps you healthy.”

“So does getting enough sleep. Besides, I’m a big walker. I can go for miles.” As long as there was plenty of food along the way. One of the things she missed about New York. All the street vendors and little delis where a pretzel or ice-cream craving could be instantly satisfied.

They walked through a grove of trees and came out in a huge open area. There were already a half-dozen dog owners and their pets running around. Jack found a spot in the sun and set down his backpack.

“Equipment,” she said. “So what exactly is involved in your Saturday-morning ritual?”

He pulled out a blanket. “For me,” he said. Then a ball. “For Charlie. We start with this and work up to the Frisbee.”

He unclipped Charlie from the leash, then threw the red rubber ball what seemed like at least a quarter mile.

Charlie took off after it, grabbed it and raced toward him.

“Impressive,” she said. “The dogs don’t get crabby with each other?”

“Not usually. Most people know if their dogs are social or not. There have been the occasional fights, but it’s rare.”

Charlie bounded toward them and dropped the ball at her feet. She winced.

“I throw like a girl,” she told the dog. “You won’t be impressed.”

Jack laughed. “Come on. He’s not going to be critical.”

“Uh-huh. You say that now, but neither of you has seen me throw.”

She picked up the slightly slobbery ball, braced herself and threw as hard as she could. It made it, oh, maybe a third of the way it had before. Charlie shot her a look that clearly asked if that was the best she could do before running after the ball. This time when he returned, he dropped it at Jack’s feet.

“So much for not being critical,” she said.

Jack laughed and tossed the ball again.

They settled on the blanket. The sun felt good in the cool morning. She could hear laughter and dogs barking. Families with children in strollers walked on the paved path that went around the dog park. There was the occasional canine tussle, but as Jack had said, no real trouble.

After about fifteen minutes of catch, Charlie came back and flopped down next to them.

“He’s just resting,” Jack told her. “Soon he’ll be ready for the Frisbee. Then watch out. He can catch just about anything.”

She rubbed the dog’s belly. “I can’t wait to see him in action.”

“He’ll show off for you.”

“I hope so.”

Charlie licked her arm, then closed his eyes and wiggled in the sun.

“What a life,” she said. “I used to see dogs in New York all the time. I wondered what it was like for them to be in a city, but Charlie is hardly suffering.”

Jack narrowed his gaze. “Is that a crack about the doggy day care?”

“No. Of course not. Why would I say anything about that?” She was careful not to smile as she spoke.

“Somehow I don’t believe you, so I’m going to change the subject. Do you miss New York?”

She crossed her legs and shrugged out of her jacket. “Sure. It’s a great city. But I can already see the potential here. The feeling is different, but in a good way. In New York I always felt I had to be going or doing or I’d miss something. I don’t feel so frantic here.”

“I like it. And the people. Are you missing your ex?”

A subtle way to ask about her divorce, she thought. It was a fair question. “No. The marriage was over long before I left. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice.”

“Did he agree with that?”

“No. Vance wasn’t happy about me leaving.” She ignored the memories of fights and screaming. “I just couldn’t trust him anymore and once trust is destroyed, it’s over.”

“He cheated?”

The question surprised her until she realized it was a logical assumption, based on what she’d said. “Nothing that simple. I met Vance through my work—a fund-raiser I worked on. He’s a cardiologist. He has an excellent reputation and everyone who knew us both thought we’d make a great couple. So did I. He was divorced, but was still really close with his kids. I thought that meant something.”

Jack frowned. “You wanted kids.”

She laughed. “Right, we used to talk about it. You thought two was plenty. I wanted four. You were uncomfortable with three because an odd number would make travel difficult. Ever practical.”

“It’s true. Try finding a hotel room that sleeps five.”

“Okay. Good point. Anyway Vance knew I wanted children. We discussed it at length.” That’s what got her, she thought. That he’d agreed. “We even discussed names.”

“He changed his mind?”

“More than that. He lied.” She shook her head. “I was such a fool. We decided to wait a little, get settled in our marriage. Then, when I was ready to start trying, he kept putting it off. I never suspected anything. Finally I pressured him into agreeing it was time.”

She paused as she mentally edited her past. There were so many other reasons she’d left Vance, but this was the easiest to explain.

“Nothing happened,” she said. “Months went by. Finally, I spoke to my doctor, who agreed to do some tests. It made sense for me to go in first. After all, Vance had already fathered children. I came through fine and then it was time for Vance to make an appointment. Only he wouldn’t. He finally came clean. He’d had a vasectomy after his youngest was born. He’d been lying the whole time.”

Jack hadn’t known where the story was going, but he sure as hell hadn’t guessed the ending. “Samantha, I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” She ducked her head and rubbed Charlie’s chest. “I was so angry, but more than that, I was hurt. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told me the truth when we’d first started dating. It would have been so easy. He lied. Worse than that, he let me believe there was something wrong with me. He even hinted at it by telling me his first wife hadn’t had any trouble getting pregnant.”

He heard the betrayal in her voice and didn’t know what to say. The man’s actions made no sense. Why lie about something that was going to come out eventually? Why marry Samantha knowing she wanted kids and he didn’t?

“What did he say?” he asked.

“Not much. That’s what got me. He never took responsibility for his actions. He never thought he was wrong.” She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I can’t tell you how much it hurt to find out the truth. It was as if I’d never known him. I thought he was different. I thought he was special, but I was wrong.”

There was still pain in her eyes. Jack didn’t know how long it would take to get over something like that. He knew a little of her past—that her father had walked out with no warning and had abandoned her and her mother. No wonder she was wary around men.

“Okay, this is boring,” she said, a smile trembling on her lips. “Let’s talk about something a little more perky. Like you. A lawyer, huh? Who would have thought.”

“That’s me—a man interested in the law.”

“Really? But it’s so stodgy.”

He grinned. “Not to me.”

“I don’t know. All those thick books you have to read. Case law. So not my thing.”

“Not to mention the clothes.”

“Yeah. The dark suits would really depress me. So what’s the game plan? You work your way up to senior partner, then torture new associates for sport?”

“That’s one possibility.”

“And the other?”

He didn’t usually talk about his future plans with many people. Not that he didn’t trust Samantha. “I want to be a judge.”

She stretched her legs out in front of her. “Wow—that’s pretty cool.” She tilted her head and studied him. “I think you’d be good at it. You’re very calm and you reason things through. If only the robe weren’t black.”

He chuckled. “Every career has drawbacks.”

“True, and that’s not a big one. Judge Hanson. I like it. All the more reason to get back to your law firm.”

“Exactly.”

“Which means every disaster is something you can almost take personally,” she murmured. “That’s got to be hard on you.”

He wasn’t surprised that she understood. He and Samantha had never had a communication problem. Their friendship had been based on long nights spent talking, arguing and seeking common ground.

“I’ve agreed to stay for three months,” he said. “When that time is up, I’m going back to my real job.”

“The company won’t be the same without you,” she told him. “But I understand why you want to leave.”

Charlie stretched, then stood and looked meaningfully at the backpack. Jack pulled out the Frisbee and threw it. Charlie raced after it and caught it in midair. Samantha scrambled to her feet.

“Did you see that? He’s incredible. Does he always catch it?”

“Most of the time. Border collies are athletic dogs.”

“I guess.”

Charlie trotted the Frisbee back and put it at Jack’s feet. Jack threw it farther this time.

“Amazing,” Samantha said. “What a fun way to spend your Saturday morning. Do you always come to this park?”

“Mostly. There are a few other dog parks around the city. Sometimes we jog along the lake. You’ll have fun exploring.”

“I know,” she said absently, watching his dog. “Although my travels will be limited by my lack of driving.”

“What? You don’t drive?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I don’t. I never learned before I went to college and once there, I didn’t have the opportunity. Since then I’ve been living in Manhattan. I did fine with public transportation or walking.”

“You don’t drive?” He couldn’t imagine it. How could someone not know how to drive?

“No matter how many times you repeat the question, the answer’s going to stay the same,” she said. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a little scary,” he said. “Want me to teach you?”

The invitation came out before he could stop it. Instantly he braced himself for her standard refusal. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he accept the fact that Samantha just wasn’t into him that way?

“I’ve seen your fancy car,” she said. “Too much pressure.”

Was that a yes? Did he want it to be? Wasn’t he done trying to make points with her?

“I can get my hands on an old clunker.”

“Really? I’m tempted. I’ve always felt, I don’t know, weird about the whole driving thing.” She studied him. “You wouldn’t yell, would you?”

“Not my style.”

Charlie barked, urging the Frisbee game to continue. Jack ignored him.

“Then thank you for asking,” she said. “I’d be delighted to take you up on your offer. But if you change your mind, you have to tell me. I don’t want you doing something you don’t want to do.”

“Again, not my style.”

She laughed. “Jack, you’re currently doing a job you hate because it’s the right thing to do.”

He chuckled, realizing she had a point. “Not counting that.”

Charlie barked again. Then he picked up the Frisbee he’d dropped and brought it to them. Jack reached for it, as did Samantha. Their arms bumped, their shoulders crashed and the two of them tumbled onto the blanket.

Jack twisted and put out his hands to pull her against him, so he could take the weight of the fall. They landed with a thud that pushed out most of his air.

Her hands were on the blanket, her body pressed intimately against his. His legs had fallen apart and she lay nestled between his thighs. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest.

Their eyes locked. Something darkened hers and all he could think about was kissing her.

There were a lot of reasons not to and only one reason he should.

Because he wanted to.

Chapter Six

S
amantha felt the light brush of his mouth on hers. She knew she could easily stop him by saying something or simply rolling off him. It was the sensible thing to do. And yet she found herself not wanting to move. Her recollection of her previous kisses with Jack, from that one extraordinary night they’d shared, were still vivid in her mind. She was confident that she’d inflated their impressiveness over time. A kiss now would allow for comparison.

When she didn’t move, he cupped her face with his hands and angled his head. Then he kissed her again, this time moving his lips back and forth. She felt heat and soft pressure. Blood surged in her body, making her want to squirm closer. She was already right on top of him, their bodies touching in so many interesting places, but suddenly that wasn’t enough. She needed more.

He moved his hands, easing them past her ears so he could bury his fingers in her hair. Then he parted his mouth and bit down on her bottom lip.

The unexpected assault made her breath catch. He took advantage of her parted lips and slipped his tongue inside.

It was like drowning in warm, liquid desire. Wanting crashed over her, filling every cell until it was all she could think of. His fingers still tangled in her hair, which made her impatient. She wanted him touching her…everywhere.

Even as he circled her tongue with his, teasing, tasting, arousing, her body melted. She felt herself softening, yielding, kissing him back with a desperation that made her the aggressor.

She took control of the kiss, following him back into his mouth, claiming him with quick thrusts of her tongue. At last he moved his hands to her back, where he stroked the length of her spine. Her hips arched in an involuntary invitation, which brought her stomach in contact with something hard, thick and very masculine.

Memories crashed in on her. She remembered how he’d touched her and tasted her everywhere. She recalled the sight of him naked, of how many times he’d claimed her. She’d been sore for nearly two days, but the soreness had only reminded her of the incredible pleasure they’d shared and had made her want to do it again. But she’d resisted—because of who he was and what he could do to her heart.

She hated the logic filling her brain, the voice that asked what was different now. She wasn’t interested in danger or reality or anything but the way their bodies fit together. If she—

But an insistent barking distracted her and at last she lifted her head only to find Charlie’s nose inches from her face.

Below her, Jack groaned. “I’m going to have to have a talk with that dog.”

She became aware of their intimate position and the very public location. Without saying anything, she slid off him, then scrambled to her feet.

“We’re in the park,” she said more to herself than him. “In public.”

Jack rose more slowly. He reached down for the Frisbee and tossed it, all without looking away from her.

“I doubt anyone noticed,” he told her.

“Still.” She pressed her hands to her heated face. Talk about acting out of character. She had always been a strictly-in-bed, lights-off kind of date. The only exception to that rule…was standing right next to her.

Of course. She was fine as long as she resisted Jack’s particular brand of temptation, but if she gave in, even for a second, she completely lost her head.

“I, ah…” She glanced around, then returned her attention to him. “I’m, um, going to let you get back to your morning.”

His dark eyes glowed with passion. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s for the best.”

His mouth straightened. “Let me guess. This was a mistake.”

His tone of resignation caught her more than his words. He expected her to pull back because that’s what she always did. There were several good reasons, but he didn’t know them. If she had her way, he never would.

“Thanks for everything,” she said, trying to smile. “I’ll see you Monday.”

She hesitated, then walked away when he didn’t speak. A slight feeling of hurt surprised her. What did she expect? That he would come after her? Not likely after all the times she’d turned him down.

Jack watched her go. Once again Samantha was the queen of mixed signals. She had been from the beginning. Is that what made him want her? He never knew where he stood?

“Not exactly the basis of a great relationship,” he murmured, throwing the Frisbee again.

The good news was Samantha wanted him sexually. The truth had been there in her response. For some reason, she couldn’t handle the idea of it, but at least she didn’t find him repulsive.

Was it him in particular or would she have run from anyone?

But she still liked to run and a guy with a brain in his head would let her go. Funny how he’d always been smart, everywhere in his life but with her. What was it about her that made him want to keep trying? It wasn’t that he thought that they were soul mates. He didn’t believe in that sort of thing and he sure as hell wasn’t interested in a serious relationship. What was the point?

He was in it for the sex. Not a one-night stand. That wasn’t fun anymore. He liked to take a lover for a few months, make sure they were both completely satisfied, then move on when one or both of them got restless.

Somehow he doubted Samantha would be up for anything like that.

Which left him where? Wanting a woman who didn’t want him? There was a way to start the weekend. Okay, he was back to his original plan—forgetting about her as anything other than an employee.

Easier said than done, he thought as he remembered the feel of her body on his. But not impossible.

* * *

Jack reached for his coffee and cursed whoever had invented speakerphones and teleconferences. Spending an hour explaining to stock analysts and trade journalists how he had found a second set of books was not his idea of a good time.

“You’re sure the investigation into how this happened has already begun?” a disembodied voice asked.

“Of course. It started less than twelve hours after I found the books. It would have started sooner, but I couldn’t get an independent accounting team in here until morning.”

“You’re not using your regular accountants, are you?”

“No. No one who has ever been associated with Hanson Media Group is involved. As soon as we have a preliminary report, I’ll make it public. Until then, I don’t have any answers.”

“Do you think more people were involved than your father?”

Jack hesitated. “I don’t have any specifics on that, but my personal opinion in that my father acted alone.”

“Has his death been investigated? Are the company’s troubles the reason he died?”

The not-so-subtle implication that George Hanson had killed himself infuriated Jack. He spoke through gritted teeth. “My father died of natural causes. There was an autopsy. He didn’t kill himself.” And he would sue any bastard who reported otherwise, Jack thought. He might not have been close to the old man, but he wouldn’t let any member of his family be dragged through the press that way.

“Is the company going to make it?” someone asked.

Jack stared at the phone. In truth, he didn’t have a clue. He continued to ride the bad-news train, with a new crisis every day. From where he sat, he couldn’t imagine how this could be pulled off. In his opinion, it would take a miracle or a buyout for Hanson Media Group to survive, but he wasn’t about to tell them that.

“We’re going to come through this just fine,” he said, wondering if saying it would make it reality.

* * *

Samantha had spent much of the weekend giving herself a stern talking-to. Being afraid was one thing, but acting like an idiot was another. She had to pick a side—any side. Either she was interested in Jack romantically or she wasn’t.

She hated the mixed messages she sent every time they hung out together. She didn’t like that she had become that sort of woman. In truth, she found him sexy and funny and smart and pretty much everything any reasonable single female would want in a man. But he was also rich, powerful, determined and used to getting his way, which terrified her.

There were actually two different problems. First, that however much she told herself she
wasn’t
interested, that she only wanted a platonic relationship with him, her body had other plans. No matter how much her head held back, the rest of her was eager to plunge in the deep end and just go for it. The attraction was powerful and ten years after she’d first felt it, it didn’t seem to be going away.

The second problem was also a head-body issue. However much her head could intellectualize that Jack was nothing like Vance or her father, her heart didn’t believe. So she got close, he made a move, she reacted, then the fear kicked in and she bolted. It was a horrible pattern and short of never seeing him again in any capacity, she didn’t know how to break it.

Whoever said acknowledging the problem was half the battle had obviously never lived in the real world. Understanding what was wrong didn’t seem to move her any closer to solving it.

But solution or not, she owed Jack an apology and she was going to deliver it right now. Or in the next few minutes, she thought as she paced in front of his office. Mrs. Wycliff glanced at her curiously, but didn’t say anything. Finally Samantha gathered her courage and walked purposefully toward the door. She knocked once and entered, careful to close the door behind herself. She didn’t need any witnesses for her potential humiliation.

“Hi, Jack,” she began, before starting her prepared speech. “I wanted to stop by and—”

She came to a stop in the center of the room and stared at him.

He sat at the conference table, the speakerphone in front of him, notes spread out. He looked as if he’d received horrible news.

She hurried to the table. “What happened? Are you all right?”

He shrugged. “I’m fine. I had the phone call with several investors and some people from the street. It didn’t go well.”

Of course. The problems with Hanson Media Group. As if he weren’t dealing with enough from that, she was torturing him on weekends. How spiffy.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sinking into the chair across from his. “I’m guessing they had a lot of questions.”

“Oh, yeah. Plenty of suggestions, too. None of them especially helpful. But this is why they pay me the big bucks, right? So I can take the heat.”

Maybe. But Jack wasn’t interested in the money or the job. “Talk about a nightmare,” she murmured.

“One I can’t wake up from. But that’s not why you stopped by. What’s up?”

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry about what happened on—”

“Stop,” he said. “No apologizes required.”

“But I want to explain. It’s not what you think.”

He raised his eyebrows.

She sighed. “Okay. Maybe it is what you think. I’m having some trouble making up my mind about what I want. I’m working on that. The thing is, I don’t want you to think it’s about you. It’s not. It’s about me, and well, who you are. Which isn’t the same as it being about you.”

He smiled. “None of that made sense, but it’s okay. Let’s just forget it and move on. You didn’t like what happened and I’m okay with that.”

She started to tell him that she
had
liked him kissing her, but stopped herself. That wasn’t the point…at least she didn’t think it was.

“You push my buttons,” she admitted instead. “You have some qualities in common with my ex-husband.”

Jack winced. “Not the good ones, right?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Just my luck.” He glanced out the window at the view of the city. Rain darkened the horizon and made the lights sparkle. “Life would be a lot less complicated without relationships.”

“Not possible. Then we’d be nothing but robots.”

“Or just very sensible people. Like Vulcans.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure we should aspire to pointed ears.”

“But their philosophy—no emotion. I understand the appeal.”

“Too much pressure?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Too much everything. I remember when I was a lot younger. My brothers and I really got along. My father was busy with work, so there was just us and whatever nanny worked for him that month.”

“I’m guessing the three of you were a handful.”

He grinned. “Full of energy and imagination. It was an interesting combination. What I can’t figure out is when we stopped being a family. That’s David’s big complaint and he’s right. We don’t pull together. I want to blame my father, but that only works so long. The three of us are grown-ups. We need a new excuse.”

“Or maybe a way to change things. Would you like to be close to your brothers now?”

He nodded slowly. “Maybe together we could figure out how to fix this mess. But I can’t get Evan and Andrew to return my calls. When it’s time to read the will, I’ll have to drag them back here. It’s crazy.”

“But they will come back,” she said. “You could talk to them.”

“I don’t know what to say anymore. How sad is that?”

She had to agree it was pretty awful. If she had a brother or sister, she wouldn’t ever want to lose touch.

“Maybe if you talk to Helen,” she said without thinking. “She might have some ideas.”

Jack looked at her. “No, thanks.”

Samantha felt herself bristle. “What is it with you?” she asked. “Why won’t you even give the woman a chance? Name me one thing she’s done that you don’t approve of. Give me one example of where she screwed up big time.”

“I don’t have any specific events,” he said.

“Then what’s the problem? You said you trusted my opinion of her and were going to stop assuming the worst.” He made her crazy. Jack could be so reasonable about other things, but when it came to Helen, he refused to be the least bit logical.

“I don’t think the worst,” he said.

“You certainly don’t think anything nice. She’s pretty smart. Why don’t you talk to her about the business?”

“My father wouldn’t have told her anything.”

“How do you know?”

“He didn’t talk to anyone about the company.”

“To the best of your knowledge. Did it ever occur to you that he might have married her
because
she’s smart and capable? That maybe when things went bad, he talked to her.” She held up both hands. “I’m not saying I know anything. But neither do you. You treat Helen like she’s a twenty-one-year-old bimbo your father married because she had big breasts. It’s crazy. You have an asset there you’re not using.”