Getting It Right This Time (4 page)

Her assistant grimaced. “Okay, tell me if I’m talking out of place…but you don’t look too good today. In fact, you look as though it should be you on one of those beds upstairs, not the clients.”

16

Getting It Right This Time

Kate knew Jo spoke the truth. When she’d seen her reflection in the mirror that morning Kate almost screamed out loud. The gray circles under her eyes looked as though she’d glued a couple of pigeon feathers there, and the storm of anxiety etched in the lines across her forehead were just plain scary.

She put her mug on the coffee table in front of them. “I’m fine. Just tired, I haven’t been sleeping too well recently. Worrying about the business, Jessica, Mum and Dad. The move from Zante hasn’t been easy and it’s taking a bit more adjusting than I thought, that’s all.”

“Were you up crying all night?” Jo asked. “Because no amount of work is worth that.”

Heat immediately singed Kate’s cheeks, and she let out a laugh. “Of course not. It would take more than work pressure to--”

She stopped mid-sentence. The bell above the front door tinkled, announcing the arrival of a customer. Saved by the bell. She leapt to her feet, and Jo quickly followed. Coffee and chit-chat were forgotten in their joint commitment in getting Kate’s fledgling business off the ground.

“If you deal with whoever that is,” Kate said, feeling relief wash over her at such a timely escape, “I’ll get back upstairs. No doubt Miss Kingston’s woken up and wondering where I am.”

Both women hurried down the corridor from the kitchen toward the reception. Smoothing the front of her uniform, Kate cleared her throat and plastered a huge welcoming smile on her face as a quick hello to the new client before getting back to Miss Kingston.

“Hi, welcome to Feed Your…” The words died on her lips as her heart catapulted into her throat and lodged there.

“Hi, Kate.” Mark’s mouth stretched to a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

She swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.” He took a step toward her.

Her hand immediately went up like a shield. “Go. Get out, Mark. Now.”

His huge, wide and muscular six-feet-two-inch frame dwarfed the space around him. Kate always described the intimate reception area as light, airy and spacious but suddenly longed to brace her hands against the walls and push them farther apart until she didn’t feel as though Mark crowded so close to her.

“I’m not leaving. Not until you at least agree to have lunch with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She sneaked a quick glance at Jo.

Her assistant’s eyes were glued to a spot somewhere on Mark’s well-defined chest and she didn’t seem about to look away in shameful embarrassment. Kate could hardly blame the poor girl.

Dressed in faded blue jeans and a jet-black t-shirt and jacket, the pure sexy sight of him severely knocked Kate’s aversion antenna off balance. As much as she tried not to, her gaze kept running up and down the entire length of his body.

Frazzled, Kate edged back.

Still smiling, he turned from Kate to Jo and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Mark. A friend of Kate’s.”

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Jo giggled, her face flushing the color of a field of strawberries in summertime. “How…how do you do? Would like a cup of coffee, tea?”

Kate rolled her eyes and stepped fully into the room, knowing it was imperative she eject Mark from the building before her assistant crumpled into an extremely undignified heap on the terracotta tiled floor. She brushed past him and opened the front door.

“It’s okay, Jo. Mark won’t be staying. If you could go and check on Miss Kingston for me, I’ll see Mr. Johnston out.”

“But…”

“Now, Jo.”

Ignoring Jo’s sigh of regret and lingering goodbye to Mark, Kate swung her arm toward the open door. “Goodbye, Mark.”

But the minute Jo left the room, he strode toward her, grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kate demanded. “How dare you!”

He stood barely inches away from her. So close she had to tilt her head to meet his angry, swirling, beautiful, bewitching gaze… and she blinked quickly as a rush of heat warmed her face.

“Get out of my salon.”

His gaze wandered languidly over her hair, her eyes, her lips. “Say you’ll come out for lunch with me in a couple of hours and I will. Let me apologize for my behavior last night.”

She crossed her arms to hide the shaking. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because...”

He abruptly turned away from her and circled the room. “How is it you can walk past a building a million times and never notice its existence?” he murmured. “I never knew this place was even for lease.”

“It wasn’t. I bought it outright. I’m a rich widow, remember?”

He stared at her for a long moment before lowering his huge frame into one of the chairs lining the wall opposite her. He leaned his forearms on his thighs, still silently watching her. Kate’s blood pulsed inside her head as she waited, refusing to be the first one to break. He sighed deeply as he dropped his chin to his chest and stared at a spot on the floor. Kate tensed. He’d come there looking for her. If he hadn’t been prepared to deal with the subject of James that was his own fault.

“I need to talk to you, Kate,” he said quietly. “I need to talk about James.”

“What about him?”

He snapped his head up, his hazel eyes clouding. “He was my best friend.”

A raw pain shot through her chest as though he’d stabbed her. “No, he wasn’t, Mark. Best friends talk to each other, see each other, support each other. You have no idea the sort of man he was before he died.”

“What do you mean?”

18

Getting It Right This Time

“He changed, Mark. Changed beyond recognition.” She swallowed. “And you should have been there to tell him so.”

He frowned, his gaze boring questioningly into hers. “Didn’t you?” he asked softly.

Kate’s heart picked up speed and tears stung painfully at the back of her eyes. She held up her hand, not caring that he would see how badly it shook. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not with you. Just leave.”

The moment stretched between them like a gaping wound. Eventually, he pushed to his feet and slowly walked toward her.

“I don’t care whether it’s today, tomorrow, next week or next month,” he said, stopping in front of her, “we will talk about this, and I will explain why I cut you and James off. I refuse to let you live and work in Foxton without at least talking about it.”

Huffing out a laugh, Kate turned around and marched to the door. “You refuse? You refuse?

My God, you really are up your own backside, Mark.” She yanked open the door. “Unfortunately for you, the young girl following you around like a little lamb, laughing at your jokes and massaging your ego is long gone. I am my own boss in every way, and I’ll do what the hell I want. And right now, I want you out of my salon.”

His eyes locked with hers for a long moment before he squeezed them shut. “Fine. I’ll leave, but we will talk.”

She glared at him. “Just go.”

Then he opened his eyes and walked out the door without looking back. Exhaling her held breath in a rush, Kate closed the door and rested her head against the paneled wood as the adrenalin left her body, leaving her bones limp and her brain nothing more than mush.

The sound of footsteps and muted conversation brought her upright, and Kate automatically planted a smile on her face. Jo led Miss Kingston into the reception area.

“Here we go. And how would you like to pay today?”

Kate stole a guilty look at the client she’d terribly neglected. The woman looked as though she’d been woken from a twenty-hour sleep. Mumbling a hurried apology and wishing her a nice day, Kate rushed into her office situated at the back of the salon.

Suddenly the urge to know Jessica was all right overwhelmed her. Kate needed to anchor and focus her attention on the only solid and trustworthy thing left in her life. She dialed Lucy’s mobile number.

“Hi, Luce, it’s me.”

“What’s wrong?”

Cursing her friend’s ability to detect even the slightest change in her voice, Kate laughed.

“Nothing’s wrong. Just wanted to check Jess is okay.”

“Of course she is.”

“Good. That’s good.” And then before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Mark turned up.”

Lucy let out a low whistle. “At the salon?”

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“Yep.”

“Oh, dear. That’s not good. What did you do?”

“I sent him out the door with a rocket up his ass.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Kate pulled back her shoulders and tilted her chin. “How do you know? You weren’t here.”

Lucy sniffed. “Because nobody sends Mark Johnston away with a rocket up his ass. Not even you. The man is a fired-up, ambitious, determined robot of tenacity. If you threw him out, I guarantee he’ll be back.”

Pressing her hand to her stomach where a pocket of swirling panic began to build, Kate sniffed. “No, he won’t.”

“I’m telling you, Kate, he will. Mark never does as he’s told. It’s what attracted you to him in the first place.”

Heat surged over her face like Lucy’s words held a blow-torch to it. “Why are you talking about me being attracted to him?” she demanded. “Do I honestly need that right now?”

“All I’m saying is, if he wants to see you, it’s best you swallow your pride and listen to what he has to say, because he won’t take no for an answer. You know that as well as I do.”

“Well, for your information, it’s not pride stopping me from seeing him, it’s common sense.”

“Really? And what conclusion has your common sense led you to?”

Kate closed her eyes.

“Kate?”

Then inspiration struck like a bolt out of nowhere. “I don’t want to be seen with him, that’s why. I’ve got Jessica to think of.”

“What?”

“The media. They’ve got him up on a pedestal like he’s some sort of Greek god.”

“You can handle that. You did with James.”

“It was different with James.”

“What? Why? The man was a hell of a lot more self-involved than Mark.”

“James’s fame was specialized, Luce. Mark’s business is commercial, it appeals to everyone.

He’s the hot thing right now as far as stage and screen is concerned whereas James was photographed for his skill on a bloody snowboard, the difference is huge.”

“Fine. But I know you, Kate and if you want this, you can handle the press.”

“Maybe I’ve had enough of that kind of life. I do not want the tabloids poking around me or my baby anymore. Mark Johnston is bad news all around.”

“Uh-huh.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Now what?”

“He’ll be back, so if I were you, I’d get in there first so you meet him on your terms.” Another phone rang in the background. “Oops, got to go, the nursery line’s ringing. I’ll see you at four.”

Chapter 3

Mark left Kate’s brand new and pretty fantastic looking salon and made his way down the bustling Friday morning High Street and into the center of town. He needed to find a way to get her to listen to him. His desire for her was ridiculous, he was man enough to admit that, but what mattered most to him was his need to tell her why he’d cut off contact with James.

The thought of her hating him burned and stabbed at his soul--a soul he thought unaffected by such trivialities as love and emotion. Work had been his excitement, his pleasure, his adrenaline rush for the last five years. But now? Now, nothing mattered but speaking to Kate, getting her to listen to him. Having her at least like him, look at him with a softer expression in her emerald eyes, would sate some of the roaring frustration swirling inside of him like a burrowing tornado.

Still as passionate and outspoken as she’d always been, yet there was a distinct wariness behind the veneer--an arms-length approach that hadn’t been between them before. Kate had always been so happy and carefree, so trusting and full of boundless curiosity. James’s death clearly devastated her, but Mark couldn’t help thinking there was more to her guardedness with him than his failure to keep in contact with his friend.

He stared straight ahead, his brow creased in concentration and his hands balled into fists as they swung back and forth at his sides. With no idea where he was going or what he planned to do next, Mark drew in a long breath.

When he’d walked into the salon and she’d emerged from a backroom and into the reception area, he’d nearly keeled over. Dressed in a dark green oriental-style tunic over crisp white trousers, with her hair twisted up in a spiky knot sort of thing at the top of her head - nothing sexy or particularly alluring about such a get-up…but on Kate? Mark grinned. She’d looked bloody fantastic--and sexy.

Shaking his head, he strode purposefully down the street, his outwardly impression one of a successful man, fully in control of his future. Yet inside, the thoughts of a sex-mad youth resonated around his filthy mind like the bouncing balls of a pin-ball machine. Kate’s body had blossomed into a curvaceous figure of perfection Mark couldn’t erase from his mind. His own body reacted so vehemently to the remembered sensation of her skin beneath his fingertips, part of him was scared to pursue her any further.

He shook his head. He didn’t have a choice.

The perpetual feeling of betraying his friend hung over him ever since learning of James’s death--it had yet to lessen, and Mark doubted it ever would. But the panic soaring through his veins at the possibility of letting her go a second time nagged and clawed at his conscience. He wanted 20

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to run his hands over every inch of her body, kiss her most intimate places until she screamed out his name in blatant sexual desire. He wanted to make her breakfast in the morning, dine in the moonlight at night. Mark swallowed. Yep, he was in cloud cuckoo land--for Kate.

Her confidence and understated sex appeal drew him like a bee to sweet and tempting nectar.

She may have evolved into a capable, sexy woman with her own business, but she still possessed a smile which could floor him in a second and a face so exquisite he would die a happy man merely watching her. He groaned at such pathetic feebleness. He needed to work out his next move. Fast.