Crazy About The Boss

Something flickered in Robert’s eyes. “Did she now?”

“Yes. To tell me she got married.”

“Did she say anything else?” A muscle jumped in his father’s jaw.

In anyone else that tightening of the mouth would be nothing. For his stiff-upper-lipped father it signaled nervousness in the man Jack had once thought invincible. Satisfaction surged through Jack. If it made him a bastard that he took pleasure in the old man’s problems, so be it.

“She said she wanted me to meet her husband,” Jack answered.

“Sebastian. Nice chap.”

Jack shrugged. “Hard to tell in a few minutes, but my sister seems happy.”

“She’s blossomed, our Emma has, into a beautiful, self-confident young woman.”

“She has, yes.”

Funny how leaving Robert Valentine’s shadow had that effect.

“I hear you’ve done well for yourself, Jack,” Robert said.

“Does that surprise you?”

Instead of answering, Robert turned his gaze to Maddie. “And who’s this, then?”

She held out her hand. “Maddie Ford. Jack’s assistant,” she added before his father made the “significant other” assumption.

“Robert Valentine,” he said, shaking her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Bella Lucia.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you been to England before?”

She shook her head. “This is my first visit.”

“And Christmastime in London is a fine introduction.” Robert smiled at her.

“I have business,” Jack said.

“I do hope work won’t keep you from seeing some of London.” His father’s voice oozed charm.

“It won’t. Jack promised.” Maddie smiled brightly, a clear indication that the Valentine charm was working on her. “It would be a shame to come all this way and not take in the sights. Traveling has always been on my list of things to do.”

“Don’t put things off, Maddie,” Robert warned, “All work and no play…”

Hypocritical bastard! Vibrating with anger, Jack took a step forward and stopped inches from his father. “And how would you know about balancing work and play? For all the time you gave your family, we might have been pet frogs. When you weren’t buried in work, you played with women who were not your wife.”

Maddie put a hand on his arm. “Jack—”

He barely felt the touch, but her tone got his attention. The shocked expression on her face cleared the red haze of rage from his head. He blew out a long breath. “We’re leaving, Maddie.”

Shock turned to surprise and there were questions in her eyes. “But it’s just been—”

“We can’t stay,” Jack interrupted.

Robert frowned. “You’ve come a long way. Surely you can have dinner—”

“We have other plans,” he snapped.

Jack had come because of Emma, but he didn’t owe this man a thing and this place held no good memories for him. Right here the world as he’d known it had come apart. He’d rebuilt his life, but no one would be that important to him again.

As Jack hustled Maddie back out into the cold he acknowledged irony for the second time and didn’t appreciate it. Just like that night a dozen years ago, he couldn’t get out of Bella Lucia fast enough.

The difference was that this time he was leaving with Maddie, the only woman he trusted.

After checking into a suite at Durley House, Maddie couldn’t wait to get out of her travel clothes and into something more comfortable. If only she could get out of her thoughts as easily. The scene at Bella Lucia had really shaken her.

She’d never seen Jack like that. The repressed violence she’d felt in him had shocked her because she was accustomed to his easygoing charm, a trait she suspected he’d inherited from his father after meeting the man. This darker Jack with an aura of danger hanging over him was someone she didn’t know at all. And she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

She didn’t like thinking about Jack outside of business because, by definition, outside of business meant personal. On a personal level, men like Jack were toxic to her. After getting to know him, she’d filed him in the well-to-do womanizing wastrel category. But after seeing his volatile reaction to his father, it was harder to keep him there. The little he’d said revealed that Jack had probably inherited his father’s fondness for women as well as the charm to reel them in.

And here she was sharing a suite with the man. He had the master bedroom with a living room in between, but suddenly it was too close.

Damn it. She should have told him what he could do with his Christmas in London.

An unexpected knock on her door made her jump. She walked over and opened it. “What?”

“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering dinner.” He indicated the dining table behind him set with linen, china, candles, flowers and two plates.

That was all very lovely, as was Jack. He’d slipped into something more comfortable, too—jeans that fit his toned body as if they’d been made for him. As they probably had. The navy pullover sweater made his eyes look very blue especially with traces of his earlier hostility still darkening them. And it hit her like a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky that her crush could be resurrected without him lifting a finger.

His brother had called her feisty, but she didn’t feel that way at the moment. She could meet men in business and go toe to toe. She could talk capital and investments with Jack and give as good as she got. But something had shifted for her tonight and she wasn’t entirely sure what it was or how it happened. She just knew the sight of him produced a tickle low in her belly and she was aware of him in a way that she shouldn’t be.

“I’m not very hungry. It’s getting late. I’ll just—”

“We’re still on New York time. And after leaving the restaurant you clearly expressed your displeasure about not staying because the unbelievably scrumptious smells made your mouth water.”

Not as much as now, she thought, forcing her gaze from the width of his chest. She’d seen him in sweaters before. She’d seen him in jeans. But she’d never seen him angry enough to do battle. And after battle warriors had an overabundance of adrenaline to channel into other activities. Physical, intimate activities. How inconvenient for her that she was handy, yet exciting for her at the same time, which just meant that she needed serious therapy.

“The scrumptious smells are gone. And since when do you pay attention to my whining?”

“Did I say whining?”

“No, but that’s what you meant. It’s a flaw. I’m working on it,” she informed him.

“Speaking of work, I’m the boss. And you need to eat. I’m not a heartless slave-driver.”

“And you’re attempting to prove that by making sure your indentured subordinate is well nourished and has the strength to give you the last ounce of blood?” she asked, indicating the food on the table.