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Authors: Michelle Monkou

BOOK: No One But You
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“Excuse me, have you heard of Sarafina Lovell?” Jackson asked.

“No,” the women responded in unison, barely giving him a glance.

“Thanks.” Jackson hated to have to call Denise so soon to tell her that he was ready.

“Were you asking about the professor?”

Jackson nodded at the woman who poked her head out of the room.

“Check room two-oh-two.” The woman pointed upward. “She’s my colleague. Check the second floor.”

“Gotcha. Thanks.” Jackson spun toward the stairwell and took the steps two at a time.

He hurried down the hall, running and slowing at each door. There was one room left with an open door. He ran forward, skidding into the doorway.

Sara looked up at him. Her expression went from a quiet blandness to shock. Dare he hope that a small smile crossed her lips before sternness descended, tightening her face into a formidable scowl.

“Oh, my gosh, Jackson, why do you keep popping up?”

“Again, I got a little help.” Jackson smiled sheepishly.

“The party is over. There’s no need to hang on,” Sara stated. She busily stuffed papers into her briefcase.

“My partying days are long gone.” Jackson plunged ahead with his request. “How about coffee?”

Sara didn’t want to think about coffee. More important matters came to mind…like Jackson invading her space again. Whether he came in peace or as conquering hero, he dominated her senses.

“Coffee would be fine,” she said after a moment. She approached him, but stopped at the doorway. “Let’s head to the food court. You first.” Sara waited until he pushed off the door frame and walked from the room.

Now, it was official. Jackson looked good, coming as well as going. His height at six-one turned her on. While her friends went for the pretty-boy, metrosexual, clean-perfection types, she liked the rugged physique that Jackson sported. The thin, faint scar along the side of his face—from a polo accident—gave him character. She remembered teasing him that he needed to lay off multitasking on a horse.

Sara maintained her silence on the way to the coffee shop. Occasionally she caught Jackson looking at her, but did her best to keep her expression muted. He certainly didn’t need to know that his presence short-circuited what little sense she had. Just the tilt of his head when something intrigued him or a raise of an eyebrow when he was trying to get a point reminded her of how much she knew Jackson. He was supposed to be her one and only friend, lover and husband. He’d claimed to be her protector in life. But she didn’t know that she’d need protecting
from
him. Armed with this thought, she strengthened her resolve to stay firm against his efforts.

“Hear me out before you jump to a decision,” Jackson offered.

“Am I that obvious?” Sara didn’t bother to apologize.

He nodded, then frowned. “But you kissed me.”

“Yeah, I used you for my own selfish impulses. Kind of like what you did to me.”

“No other motivation?”

Sara looked up at the ceiling, biting her lip as if pondering the question. Then she gave him her undivided attention and shrugged. “Nope. No other motivation.”

“That kiss reminded me of old times.” Jackson reached for her hand.

Sara pulled her hand under the table and immediately placed her other hand around the coffee cup. She could lie about the kiss, as long as she didn’t have any physical contact with Jackson.

If he held her hand, and said anything remotely complimentary, she might swoon and be a weak mess. Regardless of whether she wanted to allow Jackson into her life, her body lobbied for more instances when their lips could touch in a sensual reunion.

“You talk about our past as if we parted friends,” Sara said with deliberate harshness to her tone.

“I’ve always kept a soft spot for you.”

“I suppose this soft spot varied depending on the woman you were courting. You see, I figured that I was your test case for dumping any future unwanted women. You know, kind of like a starter wife.”

“I thought that I was doing what was right at the time.”

“And you were because we saved having to go through our eventual breakup. Your family and all their demands have enslaved you totally. I couldn’t compete from my side of the tracks.”

“After a couple of years, I know better. I’m here in Chicago because of you and no one else. There is no one back home waiting for me. I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t date. But I couldn’t move past you. I even bought a house with you in mind, remembering what we’d discussed about our family home.” Jackson drained his coffee and set down the cup with a sharp tap. “We have unfinished business. Tell me that you don’t feel something. Tell me that it’s all in my head, Sarafina.”

This man didn’t play fair. Saying her name in a soft voice reminded her of their past, when their youthful ideals had them planning a long, happy life together in love and in marriage. But her heart had been hurt, not once, but twice.

“Jackson, let’s not whitewash the issues that stood between us. Your family didn’t want me in your life and most certainly not as part of the clan. I’m sure that you have remorse, otherwise, you’d truly be a coldhearted dog.”

His body flinched with the impact of her words. He remained silent.

“But in your zeal for a reunion, I don’t want you to mistake regret for anything like love. I’m still looking for that elusive thing called love. And in the meantime, I’ve had my heart trampled. I’m taking a breather, but I’m not ready to give up.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Make no mistake though, I’m also not planning to settle on your version of love and honor, as substitutes.” Sara pushed back her chair, rose and stuck out her hand. “Goodbye, Jackson.” She shook his hand, keeping her gaze on his wide hand, which dwarfed hers.

He hadn’t responded.

She grabbed her pocketbook and left the shop to head back to the campus building. No more than a few seconds later, she had to reach in her bag to retrieve a tissue for the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Chapter 3
 

T
wo days later, Jackson still couldn’t accept the current state of affairs of being frozen out of Sara’s life. Denise and Naomi were no help in providing him with information about Sara’s other “bad experience.” The fact that he led the list rubbed him raw.

His way of dealing with his guilt was to bury himself in work with exhaustive ten-and twelve-hour days. Dating and hanging out with friends didn’t happen frequently. Three years after that fateful day, he’d emerged a more successful businessman backed by a powerhouse of a family business. And yet, he yearned for only one woman.

He popped open a can of soda and settled back in the driver’s seat. The word
stalker
popped into his mind, but he rationalized that unlike those degenerates, he meant no harm. With the late afternoon hour, he expected the campus to be empty of most students. Instead, the area resembled a shift change in a factory. There was always a large number of students going to and from the campus library, even on Saturdays.

Not too long afterward, Sara emerged from the building, her arms laden with books. She looked like one of the students dressed in jeans and a college sweatshirt. A pencil stuck in her ponytail completed the image. Jackson hesitated briefly before getting out of the car.

“Need help?” He opened his arms for her to transfer some of the load. Instead, she pulled the bundle closer to her chest.

“Stop this, Jackson,” she said.

“Last time, you had your say. I want a chance to have my say,” he challenged.

“That’s childish.” Sara stopped abruptly. “I don’t have time to deal with you. I’m heading out of town on a research assignment. You can drop me an e-mail.” She veered off onto another path where the sidewalk split, and walked toward the staff parking lot.

Jackson allowed her the comfort of walking ahead of him. With the view from behind, he had no complaints. The sweatshirt hung loose on her frame. The jeans, however, hung low on her curvy hips. And he loved a woman with a little meat on the bones, he thought.

He observed her awkward maneuver to open her car door and throw her bundle into the backseat. Since assisting her would draw more heat, he didn’t try. Instead he hovered, just in case. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Where are you headed?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Then I’ll follow.”

“You’re being extremely stubborn and annoying.” Sara ran her hand over the strands of hair that had gotten loose with her exertions.

“I seem to remember that trait, in particular, made me adorable,” he teased.

“Yeah, well, I’m no longer a wide-eyed, college coed waiting for her man to swoop her off her feet. There’s nothing adorable about you.” Her nostrils flared, as anger underlined her words.

“I’m not buying that. You used to think I was adorable because the color of my eyes reminded you of toffee crunch. And I’ve long eyelashes that you’d kill for. One particular night of passion, when you were on top, you said the slight slant to my eyes gives me an exotic edge. Do you want me to recite your further admiration for each of my body parts?” He offered a wide, mischievous smile.

“Be quiet, Jackson.” Sara shook her head. Her eyes traveled the length of his body before she turned away.

He recognized a blush when he saw one. Mission accomplished. His smile widened and he was suddenly full of confidence.

“I see you haven’t lost your arrogance,” Sara accused.

Jackson shrugged. “Ready to tell me where you’re going?”

“I’m heading north to interview a reclusive author for a project. I’ll be out of town for a few days. I’ll probably miss your departure.”

He noted her lack of remorse. “I hope that I’m not running you out of town.”

Sara leaned against the car door and folded her arms across her chest. “Unlike you, I have to work for my living. I don’t have time to play the reunion game with you any longer.”

Jackson ignored the jab. He walked over to the passenger side, noting the unlocked doors, and got in.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Sara jumped in the driver’s seat. Her brow furrowed deeply.

“I’m going with you. I figure it’s more cost-effective and efficient if we travel together.”

Sara stared at him for several seconds before sighing heavily. She started the car and reversed out of the parking lot. “Jackson, where is your car?”

He pointed to the rental in the other general parking lot. He was unperturbed when she drove and stopped next to his car.

“Out!”

“Okay.” He placed his hand on the door handle. “I’ll go, but only if you let me kiss you.”

Sara turned her head toward the window. “I don’t believe you.” She exhaled and turned to face him. “Fine. If that’s going to get you to move on, go ahead—kiss.” She offered her cheek, her lips drooped quite slack and her gaze fixed on an unknown spot beyond the windshield.

Her affected disinterest didn’t matter. If she’d have objected, he wouldn’t have pushed it. But he knew when to spot an opportunity and take the plunge. For now, he wanted to be near her.

Jackson leaned forward until he was millimeters away from the gentle, vanilla-scented lips. He was feeling a bit cocky. “If I kiss you and make you moan, then I get to come with you.”

Sara’s neck snapped back. “Have you lost your mind?” She shook her head, and the frown hadn’t left. “I’m not playing games with you. Get out, Jackson.” She pulled out her lip balm, increasing the vanilla scent. She ran the balm over her lips. “You’ve got a lot of nerve if you think that you can change my mind with a kiss.”

“Prove me wrong.” Jackson didn’t believe in the power of a kiss, but heck if he was going home without feeling her in his arms once more. Playing dirty was his only option.

“Fine.”

Jackson slowly brushed aside her hair. He wanted to admire her perfect, oval-shaped face with its small, delicate features. Her beautiful brown skin matched the color of hot chocolate with a hint of cream. Gently with his thumb, he touched her soft lips, which had shifted into a pout, like Cupid’s bow.

Her lips parted under his ministrations. For a few seconds, she held her breath, before exhaling a rush of warm air. Cupping her face, he shut out any space between them with the crush of his lips upon hers.

He paid homage to her mouth, kissing her small, luscious bottom lip before honoring her equally full top lip. Damn the cup holder between the car seats separating them. He wanted to pull her onto his body so that his hands could fully embrace her.

His pulse leaped when Sara’s muted reaction stirred to life with gentle enthusiasm. When she finally proffered an invitation for him to enter her mouth, he followed her bidding with an eager tongue to honor her.

They kissed in a tangle of energy—natural and carefree. He poured his regrets and apology into his kiss, wanting to hold her until she forgave him.

Sara sighed against Jackson’s mouth, pulling away with a soft groan. She placed her hand against his mouth to block the sensual reminder that almost took her down a road that she was not willing to go. Her mouth ached from the absence of his warm attention. She bit her lip to snap herself out of the hypnotic seduction that Jackson delivered.

“Listen to your heart, baby,” Jackson pleaded.

“No,” Sara cried. “I’ll not let you play tricks with my heart.” She sat back and closed her eyes, wishing he was only a dream. “My mind. My thoughts. My plans. I can’t let you near to tear any of that apart,” she said. Her words came pouring out in a breathless rush that choked her with emotion.

“I think getting away from all of these distractions can help us put things into perspective.”

“There is no
us
!” Sara massaged her temples.

“Tell me that you felt nothing when we kissed.”

How she would love to crush him with cruel words. Vengeance snaked through her blood. After all these years, working to push away any thoughts of him, she didn’t relish now slipping back into the same groove. On the other hand, she’d gotten over the shock of seeing him. Although she refused to admit that she looked forward to him popping up with his pleas, she wasn’t altogether sure what she wanted.

“Fine, you have this weekend to unburden your soul.” She surrendered, wondering if she’d committed to making the biggest mistake. “Let’s get one thing straight, though. Don’t think that you’re going up there to create some love shack with me. I’m working. You’re obviously not. There will be no kissing. No coppin’a feel. Don’t even think that our bodies will be touching.” There was no chance that he’d weakened her resolve. She could get through this weekend.

“As you wish.” Jackson looked out the window toward his car. “I’m going to have to go to the hotel to pack. Didn’t quite expect a minitrip,” he explained.

“I have to go home, also. Meet me at my place.”

When he didn’t answer, Sara shifted her gaze to his face. “Don’t worry, I won’t take off without you…maybe.”

Jackson bent his tall frame to look at her through the window. “I’ll track you down, if you don’t show up.”

Sara saluted him. Then she drove off, enjoying his lingering cologne in her car. What would have been a normal work assignment for an article she had to write now had the potential to turn into a weekend of unexpected adventure.

At home, the magnitude of her decision hit her. Too late to second-guess. Now, she was wired.

Just like that, she replaced the clothes that she would’ve taken. In addition to a blouse and skirt for the interview, she threw in a pair of low-rider jeans, spaghetti-strapped tank top and a skimpy bikini panty set. She had no plans to let him seduce her. She merely wanted to remind him with a touch of harmless flirtation of what he’d missed before he headed back to his blue-blood family.

An hour later, Jackson called to let her know he was in the parking lot. She met him near her car, where Jackson already waited with a large duffel bag at his side.

“It’s about an hour, hour-and-a-half drive. Do you want to eat on this side of town?” Sara inquired.

“I can hold out, if you want to get there before it’s too late.” Jackson pulled out a chocolate bar, unwrapped a portion and bit almost half of its length. His cheek bulged, as he chewed and hummed to the beat of the song playing on the radio.

Sara stared at the chocolate and then at Jackson. Her mouth watered at the sight of the strand of caramel flipped over the peanut-and-nougat filling. She sniffed the scent of the chocolate, hoping that her imagination filled in to pacify her taste buds.

It didn’t.

“Would you like a bite of my candy bar?” Jackson asked with childlike innocence.

“Yes.” She had no pride. Candy was her downfall. She only had to run her hands along her thighs to acknowledge their effect. But she’d count calories later. Right now, she wanted to taste that chocolate melting in her mouth.

Jackson held the chocolate to her mouth. Sara leaned forward to bite, maintaining a keen eye on the road. She bit tentatively, then stopped. “Is that your finger?”

“Yes, that’s to guide you,” he said.

“Well, that’s only a smidgen. Are you going to be stingy with your chocolate?” Sara asked, irritable at the delay.

“I know you have an addiction. I don’t want you to have a relapse, so I’m helping you.”

“What a load of crock! Move your finger or lose it.” She changed lanes, getting into the slower lane, even willing to get completely off the road, in case she had to fight him.

“Fine. Here’s the other half. Enjoy it.”

Sara took the bar without any guilt. Whatever! He’d have to pay with more than this to get back in her good graces. She made light work of the remaining piece, licking away the traces of chocolate from her fingers.

“I hope it was worth the next size of jeans you’ll have to buy.”

Sara looked down at her legs, horrified at the thought that she’d expanded exponentially with every bite of chocolate, peanuts and caramel. “You don’t have to worry about what I wear. I suppose your frame of reference is your BOTOX-injected bimbos.”

“I didn’t say that I didn’t like a woman that I could hold onto.” Jackson leaned his seat back and rested a foot on the dashboard. “If I recall, your butt was a good handful to grab onto when—”

Sara pinched Jackson on the arm to shut him up. He’d already swayed her mouth and stomach to be traitorous. She didn’t need much temptation for her brain to be swayed by his charm as well.

She returned to the fast lane and refocused on her journey ahead. The urban sprawl of Chicago was quickly left behind as Sara followed the traffic heading out of town to the northern suburbs. Extensive farmlands dotted the scenery, breaking up the encroaching suburban sprawl. As the line of cars and trailer trucks thinned, Sara clicked on the cruise control.

“Are we there yet?”

“Gosh, you’re annoying,” Sara snapped. Jackson’s repeated question during the last several miles plucked her nerve.

“It was my first question in a long time,” Jackson complained. He stretched in the confines of the compact car, showing his dismay that he couldn’t get comfortable.

“See that sign.” Sara pointed to a green sign at the roadside with the remaining miles. “We’ll hit a small shopping center that has a few restaurants before we go to the hotel.”

“Five miles. Guess I’ll live until then,” he grumbled.

Sara ignored him. She also needed to stretch, but hated stopping on the way. Delaying their arrival meant a longer stretch of time in close confines next to Jackson.

As she approached the shopping area, the traffic grew thick. Maybe there was an accident, although she didn’t see any emergency lights. Carefully, she melted into the bumper-to-bumper traffic meandering into the town of Blue Hills, her final destination.

Another hour passed before they were seated in a small, family-owned restaurant. With only three restaurants in the center of town, Sara considered herself lucky to get in at all. Scores of pedestrians milled through the streets and loitered in front of tiny storefronts. She chose a local home-style restaurant, over a familiar restaurant chain.

“I hope service is fast,” Jackson whispered behind her when the hostess led them to their table.

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