Everything You Need: Everything For You Trilogy Book 1 (30 page)

Slowly, he leans across and kisses me gently on the lips. Without wiping the lip stain off first. Melanie called it so right.

“If only you knew...” He kisses me again more firmly.

What? My mind reels as I part my lips beneath his. Jack’s tongue slides teasingly along the crease and I moan softly into his mouth.

His hand comes up and palms the back of my head, pressing my face to his, crushing my lips beneath him. When he breaks off and rests his forehead against mine, his breathing is ragged like he’s fighting for control. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

More cryptic Jack. That could be bad or good. Do I drive him crazy with lust or with anger because I’m not living up to expectations?

“Hair!” Jack’s sudden exclamation startles me.

My mind flies instantly to the deliberately engineered hairless part of my body. Has he copped a feel while I was floating on cloud nine? My heart thumps practically out of my chest.

“What about it?” I’m almost scared to ask.

Jack’s eyes narrow on me again. He’s so tuned in to the slightest change of atmosphere. “Are you sure you don’t have something to tell me?” He gives me another chance to confess. He’s too damned observant.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I try to sound indignant in order to hide the lie creeping into my voice. He hasn’t touched me down there. There’s no way I wouldn’t have known it if he had. The great unveiling can still take place as planned. “What hair?”

He speculates a moment longer. I can tell he isn’t convinced I have nothing to hide. He just can’t put his finger on it. I nearly explode into hysterics at the thought of him putting his finger on it.

“Appointment to get your hair done.” He glances at his watch. “We’re five minutes late. Come on.”

Jack jumps from the car, jogs around and hauls me out behind him. He locks the car, clasps my hand and sets off. I practically have to run to keep up with his long-legged stride. I’m not exactly short for a woman but Jack’s tall, athletic build, makes me feel petite beside him. We turn the corner, cross over and dash along the road. I’m beginning to see the advantages of illegal parking.

“Taylor. Shoreditch.” The penny drops. He’s chosen one of the trendiest hairdressers in London. “I have an appointment here?”

“You want your hair to match your beautiful face, don’t you?”

He thinks I’m beautiful? It’s amazing what a little window dressing can do for a girl. I nod and he smiles at me. Jack opens the door and ushers me in before him. I roll my eyes immediately I see the female stylists and at least two gay guys give him a quick once over followed by the full eye-ball treatment. I guess I’ll just have to get used to it. It’s only for four weekends after all.

That thought knocks the wind out of me. Having Jack to myself for four weekends before it’s all over is like earlier times, in miniature. The reality is I don’t have him at all. He was never mine to have. And this time it’s only mentoring with benefits.

My mood hits rock bottom again. How is it possible to endure this time knowing it’ll rapidly be followed by another abandonment and crashing disillusion? I nearly died of misery the last time. I fled to Harry’s chateau in France for the entire summer, locked myself away from the world and cried an ocean. I won’t let him anywhere near enough to my heart to do that to me again.

It’s hard though. If I see it through I could land the Zee-Com contract but by then I’ll probably be too crazy to handle it. I have visions of Jack’s last AmEx payment for me ever, being to a private psychiatric clinic to nurse me through my complete mental and physical breakdown. But how those nurses would look forward to his monthly visits.

Perhaps it would be better to walk away now, contract or no contract, before my heart gets broken twice in one lifetime. Where would that leave me? No Jack. That’s a given. But no business either. No self-respect. Nothing.

“Tabby?” My eyes focus on Jack’s concerned frown. “Are you okay?”

I pull myself together and nod, giving a weak smile to reassure him while his frown deepens.

Chapter Fifteen

Jack handles the receptionist every way but literally. He’s all Prince Charm-the-pants-off-her and she can’t stop flicking her ombré highlights and showing him how many bright, white teeth she possesses. She laughs at everything he says, even when it’s not remotely funny. I stand there feeling like a spare wheel and about as interesting.

“Miss Caid would like a coffee, if that can be arranged.”

I don’t recall anyone asking.

“Of course it can, sir.”

Hah. She’d probably make the perfect mentee. I bet she wouldn’t need the long conversation about expectations. Or the lectures. Or her hand held.

“If you’d like to follow me, Miss Caid. I’ll be shampooing your hair today.”

I turn towards the young woman who appears at my elbow. “Oh, okay, fine. Thanks.” I turn back to Jack. “When are you coming back to collect me?” I need to know how much time I’ve got. Don’t want to disappoint him by not living up to his lofty expectations.

“I’ll be right here.”

“You’re waiting?”

“Not exactly.” He grins.

Conscious of the girl trying to lead me away, I shrug and follow. I don’t suppose I’ll be more than an hour. She places a gown and warm towel round my shoulders, pulls out the elevated leg rest and I recline comfortably as she tests the water temperature on her hand and then my scalp.

“Is this alright for you? Not too hot?”

“It’s perfect.” I close my eyes and relax. “Can you be careful not to wash off my makeup? I’ve just had it done.” At someone’s great expense.

“No worries.”

I hear another client being seated next to me. The girl doing the settling is gushing unnecessarily. She sounds nervous. I yelp. Then freeze.

“Sorry. Did I splash you?” my girl asks.

Yes. And I know why. My girl is focused on her colleague’s client too. If I didn’t currently have water in my eye I’d glare.

“Hello, Tabitha.” Jack’s voice purrs across the gap. I can hear the smile in it.

“Jack,” I reply, far less friendly. I dab the last of the water out of my eye, hoping I haven’t smudged my mascara. After all the money Jack spent on it, wouldn’t that be a pity?

“Thought this would be a good opportunity to get mine cut too.”

“I can’t argue with that. I’m sure reception didn’t have any difficulty squeezing you in.”

“How’s the pet monkey?” he asks.

Oh. So he’s in a playful mood now. “Fine, as pet monkeys go.”

“I’m told some can be downright moody.”

He thinks he’s so funny. “Depends on how you treat them, I suppose.”

“Always with their best interests at heart.”

“Doesn’t stop them being difficult though.”

“I’m told feeding peach yoghurt sometimes helps. But you need to make sure you clean them up well afterwards. You don’t want to leave a sticky mess.”

I mash my lips together. He’s incorrigible. “It doesn’t do to spoil them too much either. If you don’t show them who’s boss, they can cause real problems.”

“Is everything alright for you, sir?” Jack’s shampoo girl must think we’re crazy. I smirk.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he tells both of us.

“Maybe they’re not worth all the trouble they take to train.” I steer him back to our in-joke.

“I don’t think pet monkeys are trouble. More misunderstood. Anyway, I rather like them. They’re cute.”

I’ve broken into a full scale grin now. He can be such a nightmare sometimes but at times like this, I catch a glimpse of my Jack. The guy next door. The one I used to love.

It comes at me like a fist to the solar plexus so fast I can’t breathe. That summer hiding away at the chateau, I vowed to forget how much I ever loved Jack Keogh. And I haven’t let the intense devastation of those feelings back in until this very moment. I trusted him totally. Opened myself up to him. Gave him all the power he needed to destroy me completely. And he did.

I can’t ever put myself through that again.

The salon girls fall utterly silent. I just know they’re pulling weird faces at one another. They must think they’re shampooing a couple of complete crackpots. My girl has started speeding up. She’s dragging her nails through my scalp like she’s trying to shred a coconut with her bare hands. If I wasn’t screaming inside at Jack, I’d let her have it.

I need to get away from him. “Are we done yet?”

“Just rinsing the treatment out. Squeaky clean.”

My hair is about the only thing that could be described as that, around here.

She turns off the spray, wraps the towel round my head and tilts the recliner upright. I can’t even look at him. In my peripheral vision I see his girl trying to settle him at a distant station. He ignores her and crosses to mine. He sits down in the adjacent spot and we both stare at me in the mirror. Melanie must have used waterproof mascara as it hasn’t run at all. Perhaps she understands Jack well enough.

My hair hangs in limp, wet strands around my shoulders. Against my perfectly made-up face it looks bizarre; the hideous reality manifest despite any pretty cosmetic illusions.

“Whatever it is you’re fretting about, don’t. Let me take those worries away from you.”

Someone brings me coffee but I can’t respond. Jack thanks them for me. He refuses a drink when they offer and we’re left alone.

I pick up my cup and take a huge swallow. The hot liquid burns my mouth and tongue but I don’t care. I welcome physical pain. It stops me reliving a worse devastation. When my stylist arrives, she examines my hair then begins combing out any tangles.

“What are you having done today?” she enquires.

“Ask him. I don’t have to worry about it,” I snap back, instantly feeling sorry for her. I console myself she’ll be handsomely rewarded for any loss of dignity.

Jack doesn’t falter. He explains the grand ball, the elegant gown and the vision he has of this creature who isn’t me. She relaxes when given clear instructions, with no mixed messages; delighted that Jack is so engaging and relieved she doesn’t have to talk to me again. I can tell she feels a million dollars to be basking in the golden glow emanating from the seat beside mine.

No-one hears me screaming inside. I’m just an ordinary girl who Jack’s trying to change out of guilt or revenge, or something. The real me regrets ever entering that boardroom.

* * *

“Tabitha, we’re leaving.” Jack’s voice enters the cavern of my mind where I’ve retreated for the past half hour.

I look up to see him holding out his hand to me and I take it. I always take it.

“Come on, baby. Don’t give up now. This is just our public face. You’re a fighter. You’ve always been a fighter.”

“What are you talking about, Jack?”

“I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“Then make it easy.” I look at him.

He actually looks sorry. “I’m trying, baby.”

Baby? When did he start calling me that?

I follow him back to his car and sit passively while he secures my seat belt and drives back to Belvedere. I feel as if all the fight has gone out of me. I’m spent. I want nothing more than to curl up and drift into oblivion.

“It’s getting late. We need to get dressed now.” Jack stands in the doorway to my room. “Blackstock will have the car standing by in less than an hour. Call me if you need a hand to zip anything.” He tries a cheerful grin without managing to lose the frown then closes the door and leaves me.

I flop onto the bed. I’ve been in Jack’s apartment for twenty-four hours and in that time I’ve swung back and forth through every emotion known to womankind. I’m completely drained. Yet I still have this ball to get through. Funnily enough I’m too numb to feel nervous. Nerves are so far down my list of priorities I can no longer be bothered to locate them but I’m not deceived.

I’ve known the calm before the storm before.

I manage to keep my hair, gems and make-up intact while I freshen up. Feeling a renewal of smugness at the bold statement written across my lower body, I search through my new lingerie. No bra required, but I definitely need panties capable of hiding my sparkling sins until they are unveiled. The red silk thong I select is cut high on the hip but snug enough to disguise each glittering letter. My buffed skin looks amazing against the vivid colour. I turn in the mirror for quite a few minutes admiring my golden figure.

It’s only then I realise I’m not the only one. Jack leans against the doorway, watching me as our eyes meet in the mirror. His run the entire length of my body and I stand and let him look his fill. They’re hooded with lust as he steps into the room.

He’s captivating in black tie. The tux is clearly expensive and made-to-measure with a narrow, tailored jacket off-setting the pleated shirt beneath. The trousers enhance his lean power with narrow hems brushing the tops of gleaming lace-up oxfords. He has yet to close his top shirt button or fasten his bow-tie. It hangs round his neck in a really endearing way. I want to pull him to me by the ends and wrap myself round him, he looks so hot and sexy. If I’d been in charge of proceedings I would have told us to stuff the ball and taken him straight to bed instead.