His BlackBerry chimed softly, rattling against the galley-kitchen counter. He let it play out. Seconds later it chimed again.
Lauren stepped away, snagging a towel from the hook and wrapping it around her. “Just answer it.”
“No—” he clasped her elbow “—we’re in the middle of something important. I want you and the baby with me. I’ll pay the relocation costs to move your business here, anything I can do to make the transition easier for you, because bottom line, New York is just too far away for the life I want us to build in San Francisco.” Frustration clawed up his throat as he searched for the right way to persuade her. “Damn it, Lauren, this is the logical thing to do.”
As soon as he finished his tirade, he realized he hadn’t come close to hitting the right button with her, and he still didn’t have a clue what the answer might be.
Was she just that stubborn? That proud? A dark sense of foreboding crept over him like ants coming out to feast on the sticky sweetness drying on his skin.
“We’re not in the middle of anything anymore.” She snatched up his BlackBerry and thrust it toward him.
Left with no choice, he took it from her with the intent of just turning the damn thing off. The e-mail address scrolling across stopped him cold.
The private investigator he’d hired to find Lauren’s crooked accountant.
Jason clicked on the message.
Have located the subject, his Cayman account and other holdings of interest. Details are ready to turn over to police. Please advise how you wish to proceed.
Keeping the information from her wasn’t an option, even if tossing it aside increased her chances of staying. His opportunity to win Lauren had passed.Now that her business was secure and she didn’t need his money, there was nothing holding her in San Francisco.
Lauren had no reason to stay. Jason didn’t love her, and she had no reason to believe her too-logical lover ever would.From Jason’s car, she looked at the houses leading up the steep street to his home. Her home, too, even if only for another week. She’d initially promised to stick around for two weeks to help solidify the Prentice account, and she would keep her end of the bargain, even if she didn’t need his money anymore.
After the message had come in on his BlackBerry, Jason had told her about hiring a private investigator, about finding her slimy old accountant and the missing money, now tucked away in a Cayman account. Authorities were on their way to pick up the bookkeeper, and his assets in a number of other countries had been frozen. It didn’t matter if they could get to the Cayman account or not, or how sticky extradition might be; the crook had enough cash stashed in other places she would have her money returned in the end.
In a week she would return to her little apartment in New York, her icy winters and her business. Thanks to Jason and his private investigator, she had her old life back. Eventually she could repay Jason what she’d borrowed. She had everything she wanted.
So why did she feel so empty?
It was going to be a long and miserable final week in Jason’s house. How had she ever thought she could simply play out her fantasies with him, then leave without a mark on her heart?
Jason sat silently beside her, driving the car, the scent of his freshly showered body riding the light gust of his car heater. The morning was chilly, but nowhere near as cold as the knot freezing up in her chest. She just wanted to get to her room, away from Jason and the temptation to ignore reason and throw her carefully planned life away to move in with a man who’d never even told her he loved her.
Love?
Yes, she loved him, a certainty that was settling more deeply inside her. But the simple word still scared her down to her toenails. She’d seen what love did to her parents and she wanted no part of that. Apparently Jason was as cautious with his emotions as she was, since he’d never alluded to feeling something so complicated and inconvenient—and wonderful—for her. What if she took a chance and told him? Maybe once they got home, over supper in front of the fireplace she could take that risk on the outside chance…
Jason crested the hill leading to his place. Lauren squinted for a better view in the early-morning sun, and sure enough a sleek luxury car was parked directly in front of Jason’s house. He cursed low and long beside her. Lauren sat up straighter and peered through the window. A man leaned against the car, a tall guy with jet-black hair. His face became clearer as they neared.
None other than Jason’s boss, Brock Maddox, waited for them. The man wore a suit. Was he on his way to church or work? Either way, finding him waiting here couldn’t be a good sign.
Jason pulled up behind Brock’s car, parking on the road. “I’ll meet you inside in a few minutes,” he said to Lauren before sliding out of the vehicle. “Good morning, Brock. What can I do for you?”
Lauren closed the sedan door, curiosity holding her on the sidewalk as Jason approached Maddox. She would go inside shortly.
Straightening from the car, Brock jammed his hands into his pockets. “Prentice is not happy.”
Jason frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“This fake marriage you two tried to pull off.”
Lauren stiffened. She might be torn by her decision to go back to New York, but in no way did she want to cost Jason his job. She stepped alongside him, sliding a shaking hand in the crook of his arm. “Who says it’s not real?”
Brock looked back and forth between the two of them as if weighing the wisdom of including her in the conversation. He didn’t seem interested in going inside, though, opting instead to hold this meeting outdoors. Maddox was one cool customer, distant and perhaps even a bit uncaring. Was that what Jason had to look forward to becoming?
She rubbed the goose bumps prickling her arms. At least the neighborhood was quiet and deserted for the most part, other than a Jaguar driving past, engine growling low. Four doors down a small family piled into a car, all dressed to the nines for church. A lump swelled in her throat.
Jason’s face went taut with tension. “Anything you can say to me, you can say to Lauren.”
They always had managed well when it came to the business arena. The bittersweet thought tugged at her aching heart.
“Okay, then.” Brock nodded. “The financial world is a small community. Did you think your half-million-dollar transaction wouldn’t be noticed? Let me see if I can put this together just right, given the rumors floating around from Wall Street all the way to key players at Golden Gate Promotions. Lauren’s accountant ran off with her operating capital, also a half-million dollars.”
Hearing how clearly Brock saw through their ruse sent a bolt of panic through Lauren. She glanced at Jason, but he still kept his face impassive, apparently much better at tamping down freaked-out feelings than she was. Lauren forced herself to listen carefully to Brock.
“I’m guessing you bailed Lauren out in exchange for a pretend marriage to keep Prentice from going off the deep end over the pregnancy.”
Lauren searched for the right words to save Jason’s career. How damned ironic that just as hers came back together, his fell apart. “Ours may not have had a more traditional romantic beginning, but things have changed between us.”
Not that it was any business of his. How could Jason manage a work environment that was so claustrophobic? Hell, so downright nosy? She considered blurting out how much she loved Jason.
Brock glanced back at Jason. “So Lauren’s staying?”
Jason hesitated a second too long. “She doesn’t have plane reservations.”
Brock cocked an eyebrow. “You’ll have to come up with better than that. Hell, I already know the police are involved and they locked in—what?—an hour ago?”
“My wife and I share finances. Her business is my business. What’s wrong with my investing in her company?”
“That’s not the way Prentice is seeing things. He’s not too hyped on trusting a guy who paid a woman to participate in a pretend marriage just to save an account.”
She bristled, prepared to tell Brock off, but held back for Jason’s sake. Besides, for once the gossips were right on the mark.
Jason’s shoulders braced with military bearing. “How do you intend to proceed?”
“It’s your account. You brought it in, so it’s yours to manage. I won’t lie—we’ve never needed an account like Prentice more than now. Competitors—Athos Koteas in particular—are breathing down our neck.”
“I understand that and want to do what’s best for MC.”
Brock glanced at Lauren, then back. “It’s obvious how far you’ll go, and while a part of me admires that, I also expect you to cover your ass better.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’m kicking myself for not figuring this out sooner.”
Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. Lauren felt like a fool, a heartbroken fool who’d stupidly fallen in love with her relentlessly ambitious husband. Thank God she’d resisted the urge to blurt out her feelings for him.
Brock pulled out the keys to his car, jingling them in his hand. “That’s all for now. I just wanted to give you a heads-up in person, offer you time to come up with some way to pull your ass out of the fire. Prentice has called a meeting for tomorrow afternoon. But I’ll see you in my office first thing in the morning.” He nodded quickly to Lauren before sliding back in his car, all business.