Tall, Dark & Rich: His Christmas Virgin / Married by Christmas / A Yuletide Seduction

Implying she didn’t really want to say no to his dinner invitation…

Jonas straightened. ‘I’m not asking you out so that you can dress up and be a trophy on my arm, Mac,’ he assured her gently. ‘How about we eat here instead of going out? I’ll come back at eight o’clock with a bottle of wine and a takeaway. Would you prefer Chinese or Indian?’

Mac’s eyes widened. ‘But I just said—’

‘That you didn’t want to go out to dinner,’ he cut in. ‘So we’ll eat dinner here instead.’

She frowned. ‘That wasn’t quite what I meant.’

‘I know that, Mac.’ Jonas smiled.

‘Then—’

‘Look, we both know that we would actually prefer not to spend any more time together,’ Jonas said neutrally. ‘The problem with that is I can’t seem to stay away from you. How about you?’ he asked, eyes suddenly fierce with emotion in his otherwise calm face.

Mac realised from his careful tone and fierce expression that he disliked intensely even having to make that admission. That he was still as disturbed by their physical attraction to each other as she was. A physical attraction that was going precisely nowhere when he distrusted her sexual inexperience and she distrusted her own ability to resist him. To see him any more than was absolutely necessary would be absolute madness.

She drew herself up determinedly. ‘I said no, Jonas, and I meant no!’

His mouth tightened, jaw clenched. ‘Fine,’ he said tersely. ‘I’ll wish you a pleasant evening, then.’ He nodded abruptly before crossing to the door, closing it softly behind him as he left.

That hollow feeling deepened in Mac’s stomach as she watched him go. She knew absolutely that the last thing she was going to have was a pleasant evening in any shape or form.

CHAPTER NINE

‘I HAVE Miss McGuire for you on line one, Mr Buchanan,’ Mandy informed Jonas lightly down the telephone line when he responded to her buzz.

‘Miss McGuire?’ Jonas frowned as he suddenly realised Mandy was referring to Mac; he had ceased thinking of her as ‘the irritating Miss McGuire’ days ago!

He and Mac had only parted a few hours ago, and not exactly harmoniously, so why was she calling him at his office now? Had something else happened at her home?

Jonas put his hand over the mouthpiece to look across at Yvonne as she sat on the other side of his desk, the two of them having been going through some paperwork. ‘Would you come back in fifteen minutes so we can finish up here?’

‘Of course, Jonas.’ She stood up smoothly. ‘Are you having better luck persuading Miss McGuire into selling?’ she paused to ask ruefully.

Jonas gave her an irritated look. ‘It hasn’t come into our conversation for some time,’ he answered honestly. Part of him had forgotten why he had ever met Mac in the first place. Part of him wished that he never had.

‘Oh.’ Yvonne looked surprised. ‘I thought that was the whole point of your—acquaintance?’

‘Did you?’ Jonas returned unhelpfully. Yvonne was a good PA, a damned good one, but even so that didn’t give her the right to question any of his actions. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, this is a private call…?’ he prompted pointedly, regretting the embarrassed colour that entered Yvonne’s cheeks, but making no attempt at an apology as he waited for her to leave his office before taking Mac’s call. ‘Yes?’ he said tersely, not sure who he was annoyed with, only knowing that he was.

Mac had been aware of each second she’d been kept waiting to be put through to Jonas—perhaps because he was unsure about taking her call?—and she could hear the displeasure in his voice now as she held her mobile to her ear with one hand and poured two mugs of coffee with the other. ‘Have I called at a bad time?’

‘No.’

Mac begged to differ, considering that long wait, and the impatience she could hear in Jonas’s tone. She knew she shouldn’t have telephoned him. Had tried to talk herself out of it. Wished now that she had heeded her own advice! ‘I realised after you had left earlier that I hadn’t…I just called to say thank you,’ she said awkwardly. ‘For everything you did for me this morning. Calling the police. Arranging to have the graffiti painted over.’

There was a brief silence before Jonas answered, his voice sounding less aggressive. ‘Have Ben and Jerry finished the painting now?’

‘Ben and Jerry? That’s what they’re called?’

‘Yes,’ Jonas answered dryly.

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really,’ Jonas chuckled softly.

Mac felt slightly heartened by that chuckle. ‘They’ve almost finished, yes. I was just making them both a mug of coffee.’

‘That’s very…kind of you.’

Mac bristled. ‘You sound surprised?’

His sigh was audible. ‘Let’s try to not have another argument, hmm, Mac.’

‘No, of course not.’ She grimaced. ‘Sorry.’

‘Was that the only reason you called?’ Jonas asked huskily.

Was it? Mac had convinced herself that it was before she made the call, but now that she had heard his voice again she wasn’t so sure.

They had parted with such finality earlier. Leaving no room for manoeuvre. Something that had left Mac with a feeling of uneasy dissatisfaction.

‘I think so,’ she answered.

‘But you’re not sure?’ he pressed.

‘I am sure,’ she said firmly. ‘I just—Anyway, thank you for your help earlier, Jonas. It is appreciated.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he said warmly. ‘Have you had second thoughts about dinner?’

Second and third ones, Mac acknowledged ruefully. But all of them with the same conclusion—that a relationship between herself and Jonas was going nowhere. Except possibly to a broken heart on her part.

She wasn’t sure when—or even how—the feelings she had for Jonas had sneaked up on her. She only knew that they had.

Quite what those feelings were, she had so far shied away from analysing; she only knew, after seeing him again this morning, that her three days away had achieved nothing and that she definitely felt something for him.

She felt energised in his company. A tingling awareness. An excited thrumming. Whether or not that was just a sexual excitement, Mac wasn’t experienced enough in relationships to know. She only knew that the thought of never seeing him again, speaking to him again, was a painful one.

It made no difference to those feelings whatsoever that she knew there was no future for the two of them. Jonas undisputedly affected her in a way no other man ever had.

‘I’ll take it from your delay in answering that you have,’ he drawled softly.

‘I didn’t say that—’

‘In which case, Indian or Chinese?’ he said authoritatively, rolling right over her vacillation, having no intention of letting her wriggle out of the invitation a second time. Or was it a third time? Whatever. For some reason, Mac had called him, once again opening the line of communication between them, and at the same time renewing Jonas’s own determination to see her again. ‘I’m waiting, Mac,’ he added.

Her raggedly indrawn breath was audible. ‘Indian. But—’