Sugar And Spice (42 page)

“There’s nothing wrong with th-th-that,” she said, the stutter back in her voice. When she was angry with him, it disappeared, but when her frustration dissipated, he noticed she was back to the nervous tick.

“My father disagreed. He was a fighter pilot in Vietnam, even got a Purple Heart and a commendation from the president himself. When he came back, he created StarAir.” When her eyes widened, he nodded. “Yeah, that StarAir. So, as the next generation, he wanted me—no, expected me—to be more, to carry on the legacy. To make my mark.” Jake paused for a second as a woman with a baby stroller circumvented them. “Just before he died this summer—”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, softly cutting in and laying a hand on his shoulder, a hand that carried as much weight as her words. “This must be a hard holiday for you.”

He blinked several times, refusing to acknowledge how her words had opened a crack in his heart, a break he promptly sealed back up. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, at that time, he asked me to come here, to work with Brad, the other family screwup.”

Natalie chuckled. “He’s the industrial size, though.”

Jake echoed her laughter, then sobered. “I thought, though, when I came to work here, that I could make my father proud by turning the company around. In my grandfather’s day, Lyons Corp was the equivalent of E.F. Hutton. It’s always been the family gem, at least until Brad took over. That’s why I stepped in. But working with Brad…”

“Is a lot like trying to truss a badger with dental floss.”

He grinned. “Another Word of the Day fan?”

She smiled back, sharing the joke, the connection. “No, c-c-crosswords.”

“In ink?”

She nodded.

“Of course.” He marveled at this woman with whom he had worked for the past few months and never really noticed, not until now, until this week. Now he saw so much, saw that she was a pearl in a room full of bricks. She was smart and witty, and so far out of the league of the normal woman he dated.

And that meant trouble.

“Y-y-you still h-h-haven’t told me why you d-d-didn-n-n—” She shook her head, giving up on the word with a muttered curse.

A gang of shoppers, wielding stuffed red bags from Macy’s, came heading down the sidewalk, four abreast. Jake tugged Natalie out of the way before she could get sideswiped by a Liz purse. She collided gently against him, sending another fire racing up his spine, igniting other parts.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, to finish what they had started in the file room. But if he did that, he was sure she’d run. And probably slug him before she did. He could still see the simmering anger in her eyes, the disappointment that he’d let her down.

“Natalie, you’re completely justified in hating me,” he said, hoping like hell that she didn’t, because he was enjoying the feeling of her in his arms. Very much.

Too much.

“I should have said something,” he went on, “and I was wrong for not doing it. At the time, it seemed like just another bottom-line decision. I won’t lie to you—the company is struggling. Brad has made a lot of bad decisions in the past, and they’re starting to come back to bite us.” He drew in a breath. “And, in his infinite wisdom, my grandfather left his two sons nearly equal parts of the company, which was then passed down to the next two males in the family. Brad has half and I, as my father’s heir, have the other half. Brad, however, with his 51 percent, is used to having the whole enchilada. Even when his brother was alive and after Brad took over, my father liked tinkering with planes, not money, so he never interfered.”

“And n-n-n-now you’re trying to be the kn-n-night on the shiny steed?”

He chuckled. “Maybe the battered knight on the old gray mare, but yeah, something like that. So, forgive me if I got all corporate instead of—”

“Human.”

“Yeah.” Jake Lyons hadn’t been human in a long time, if he thought about it. Before he’d come to work here, he’d been the quintessential rich playboy, discarding relationships as easily as tissues. His apartment, his address book, his social calendar had all been filled with things, people and events that had about as much substance as Jell-O.

And then he’d met Natalie Harris, who took her life seriously, who had invested herself into a purpose. A purpose he’d helped yank away from her. “Natalie,” he said, taking one of her hands, feeling the beat of her pulse, watching the delicate cloud of warm air around her lips. “Will you forgive me?”

“I—”

He put a finger to her lips, shushing her before she could say no. “Give me a second chance, Natalie.”

Then, before he could remember his promise not to get involved with an employee, he leaned forward, hauling her closer to his chest, and did what he’d wanted to do ever since he’d had his first taste.

He kissed her. Thoroughly. Completely ignoring the people around them, the Christmas music playing in the background, the busy, bustling city.

She tasted of candy and chocolate, a sweet, tempting combination. He slid his tongue into her mouth, a thrill rushing through him when she responded in kind. His hands reached up, fingers dancing in her hair, pulling her head closer, deepening their kiss, taking it from a tease to something that bordered on seduction.

She curved against him, her wool coat parting as she did, pressing her breasts to his chest. He went hard with want and cursed his timing, the location. If he’d been in his apartment, he’d have had her in his bed and naked faster than a couch potato could change the channel.

After a long, sweet second, Natalie pulled back and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Th-th-that was nice,” she whispered.

With her, the surge of want was supplanted by something deeper, something that seemed to cut into his heart and create a space that had never been there before. He found himself wrapping his arms around her, drawing her warmth to his, creating a small island of just the two of them against the increasing winter snowfall. It was magical, the kind of comfortable coziness Jake had thought only came as a scripted part of a movie.

Oh, this was a mistake. A really big mistake.

“I’m su-su-supposed to h-ha-hate you,” she said into his coat.

He chuckled. “Hate me? Why?”

She drew back, met his eyes. “B-b-because you cut the pp-program.”

“We’ll have to find a way to fix that.”

“Really?” The smile that spread across her face was wide and contagious. She raised herself on her toes, placed a kiss against his lips, then drew back. Their gazes met, held, and she leaned forward again, this time kissing him with more…more everything.

He was jostled from behind by a stack of shopping bags, the crinkle of paper and poke of something sharp and hard drawing him away from Natalie. And back to his senses.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He caught himself before he said he’d done it because it was important to her. Doing that implied he cared, that he would take this kiss beyond a street corner and a morning latte.

He couldn’t do that. He wasn’t the kind of man who had staying power. Hell, philandering was part of his genes. Natalie Harris deserved more.

And even if he did take this further, if he took her home and spent the night with her, even one night to erase this constant want from his mind, there would be consequences. Beyond the office gossip, there would be the look in Natalie’s eyes, the same look he’d seen this morning and had no desire to duplicate.

“The shelter’s a good tax write-off,” he said, knowing as he watched the impact of the words on her face that he had effectively ended any hope of something more with Natalie Harris.

When Natalie got back to the office, the peppermint mocha was sitting heavy in her gut, along with a hefty topping of disappointment. She should have been pleased when Jake made it clear there was nothing between them but saving a few cents on his IRS bill. That he wasn’t starting to fall for her, something she’d insanely thought when he’d kissed her, so well and so tenderly.

She didn’t want a man to fall in love with her. She didn’t want to settle down, to start looking for permanence. The minute she did that, she became complacent, as she had in the past year she’d worked at Lyons Corp. It had gotten easier to stay than to move on, and if there was one thing Natalie wanted, it was to move onward and upward.

She had plans. Ambitions that involved doing more than tallying accounts receivables numbers.

When she got back to her desk, she logged onto her e-mail account and there, in her in-box, was the change she’d been seeking. “Oh my God. I got a job offer,” she told Angie.

“Already? Without an interview?”

“I interviewed with them before I came to Lyons. Apparently, they remembered me, saw the posting and ‘didn’t want to let me get away again.’”

“Wow. I wish I could have that kind of luck with men. Maybe that’s what I need. A Monster.com for my dating resume.” Angie laughed. “Though mine might crash the server.”

“I can start the week after Christmas if I want, he said,” Natalie said, reading the rest of the enthusiastic note from Charles McGraw, the man who had interviewed her. “I could be out of here in a week.”

“And on to a real job.” Angie winked.

It was exactly the kind of real job Natalie had wanted, with a nonprofit, which would allow her to continue her charitable work, and maybe make a difference in the city. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be able to do that while working at Lyons. The promises Brad had made to her when she’d been hired, about working with nonprofits and about the shelter, had each been rescinded when it became clear company income mattered more than people.

“What are you waiting for? Hit Reply and tell him yes.” Angie nudged Natalie’s mouse.

“I’m going to miss it here.” She glanced around the office, saw Ted hunkered over his jar of colored paper clips, very carefully picking out all the black ones and putting them into a separate container.

“Okay, I won’t miss this office, or the people who think they’re Klingons, but I will miss you.”

Angie gave her a quick hug. “Don’t worry. You won’t get rid of me that easily. I know where you live.”

She winked. “Now, that hunk over there in the corner office…” She gestured toward Jake, who had once again worn a blue shirt. Definitely Natalie’s undoing. “It’s too bad you can’t take him with you. Make him your office boy. Keep him in the mail room and only take him out when he’s been very, very good.”

“There’s an idea.” Natalie laughed.

“Are you still going to give Jake a spin around the block before you leave?”

“Maybe.” Natalie spun the wheel on the mouse. “Maybe not.”

“Oh no.” Angie studied her friend. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for him. You read the tabloids, you know the reputation of Lyons men. They have about as much sticking power as oil.”

“I know. And I’m not falling for him. Really.”

“Good. Take a piece of advice from Angie Central. When you have your fling, be smart and get the hell out of there afterward. No spending the night. That spooning will mess with your emotions, I tell ya.”

“Oh, I’m not planning to fall in love or anything like that,” she told Angie and herself. “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to tell him even if I did. He’d fall asleep before I got past I-I-I.”

Angie laughed. “Once you get cozy with him, I bet that little stutter thing will go away.”

“That’s the problem,” Natalie said. “It hasn’t gone away, which makes getting cozy a problem. I mean, he’s kissed me, but I can’t seem to make any sense when I’m around him. It’s kinda hard to be sexy when you’re a blubbering idiot.”

“Then Secret Santa needs to kick it up a notch.”

Natalie looked at the job offer before her, then took a second glance around the office. Brad was strutting through the room, a peacock at the zoo, and serving about as much purpose. Jake was in his office, on the phone. Dena came in from lunch and made a beeline for Jake’s office.

Jealousy whipped through Natalie, the emotion coming so hard and so fast it surprised her. She had no claims to Jake Lyons. She wanted no claims to Jake.

And what better way to prove it to herself than to accept this job offer and, before she left, have that fling? A Merry Christmas all around, with no broken hearts to repair after the new year. Natalie hit Reply and started typing.

“Look at Dena,” Angie said. “Isn’t that illegal in certain states?”

The receptionist was now hanging on the edge of Jake’s doorframe like a stripper going down a brass pole.

“I heard he took her out to dinner on Saturday,” Angie added.

Natalie drew in a breath. She hadn’t known about that. She shouldn’t care, shouldn’t be affected. “Why would he take her out? They don’t seem to have a lot in common.”

“Hello. He’s a guy with a heartbeat. That’s reason enough. Besides, have you seen how she’s been dressing lately? It’s like she’s shopping at Hookers ’R Us.” Angie shook her head. “Between how short her skirts have gotten and how high her shirts are riding, you can see her belly ring from any angle.”

Natalie laughed. “You are so mean.”

“It’s true. And you know it.” She spun Natalie around to face her. “If you want that man, you better get him now. You let Dena get her claws into him and he’ll never be fit for womankind again.” Angie gave Natalie a little push. “So go on over there and interrupt them.”

“Oh yeah, he’s going to pick N-N-Natalie over Holy-cow-those-are-huge Dena.”

“You have a point.” Angie chewed on the end of her acrylic nail, thinking. “Take my cell, text him again.”

Natalie glanced at the reply message she’d composed to the nonprofit. It was about damned time she started acting on her thoughts instead of being a bystander while other people, like Dena, did what she wanted and did it with more oomph. She needed, as Angie had said, to be more risky. “No, no texting. I want to keep him on his toes.” She grinned. “IM.”

“I am what?”

“Instant message. He’s at his computer right now; it’ll pop right up and be more in his face than Dena will ever be.”

Angie grinned. “You should be president.”

Natalie glanced again at Dena, who had her leg wrapped around the jam in ways Natalie didn’t think a leg could go. “Tim,” she said to the techno-guru behind her, “I need help.”