Dancing Barefoot (17 page)

She covered his hand with her own.
"Stay until morning."

He crushed out the cigarette and sighed. "Simone is on the warpath. She knows I am with you and will make your life hell. She's capable of anything and—"

"Stay." She looped her finger through the belt buckle of his jeans. Tonight she needed to sleep next to him, wake up with him in the morning and deal with the world then.

"Kevin is fending her off..." his protest sounded weak.

"I thought you fired him."

"He never goes away, it's the strangest thing." He flashed her a smile that melted her heart. "What happened with you?"

"A fire, they're thinking arson." She couldn't get the image of Marc schmoozing at the scene out of her mind. With a frown, she tugged on Jacques' jeans. "Forget the taxi. I'm tired. I want to sleep with you tonight."

He sighed again and looked toward the quiet street. Tension reverberated off of him.

"All in, remember?" she asked. "If you want something bad enough, you make it happen. Those are your words. Do you want me bad enough?"

"This is so soon, she'll think I planned it all along," he whispered, finally dragging his gaze to hers.

She stepped back at the pain she saw in his eyes. "Do you love her?"

"No." He sh
ook his head. "I need time to—"

"Won't she expect to share your room?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the sky. "I need time to do this right so there won't be any fallout."

"What keeps you with her? I want to know. If we're all in, then you need to tell me everything." She stepped away and sat down on the steps.

He sat next to her, flicking the rubber band against his wrist. "
Simone is hard for me to explain to anyone. She's not a monster."

She linked her fingers with his to stop the rubber
band flicking. "Is this where you tell me she's simply misunderstood?"

"I care for her. We have been together for years."

"Years. Right."
Making our few months together insignificant in comparison.
She winced.

"
Things happened—bad things—that I'm not ready for the world to know." He slipped his hand free from hers and leaned his elbows on his knees. "She will come at me with everything she has if I leave her."

"If?" She stared at his profile. "You're not going to break up with her? What was tonight about then? Why are you hanging out with my neighbor boy tell
ing him our story if—"

"I meant
when
." He squeezed her knee without looking at her.

"Is she blackmailing you? Tell me the truth. Whatever it is, we can face it together."

She stared straight ahead at the streetlamp and held her breath while she waited for him to respond. She knew she asked a lot, especially as the one who walked away, especially when they hadn't been in each other's lives a week ago.

"
There are things you don't know about Simone and me, things she will use to hurt you...and to destroy me. She has said as much and I believe her."

"Whatever it is, it won't hurt me." She looked at him then,
illuminated by the glow of the streetlights and grinned with a certainty that stemmed from somewhere deep inside.

"
You'll never forgive me." Tears swam in his eyes but didn't fall.

"
I already do, whatever it is, I already do." Her heart clenched with need. "We're so close to getting a second chance, don't doubt me now. Please."

"I owe
it to Simone to talk to her, to do this face-to-face, not simply abandon her in a hotel with people who despise her." He squeezed her hand. Tight. "You need to trust me, too."

Simone.
She gritted her teeth and fought back the desire to scream at the top of her lungs. The idea that that woman—her nemesis—had been sleeping with him, touching him, kissing him, all these years ripped her to shreds.

"Talk to her tomorrow, stay here.
Give us until morning." She needed to win this battle. Her hands shook as she caressed his chest. She worried that this would be the end, that those who wanted to break them up would do so before they had a chance. Perhaps she was insecure about it; hell, she'd never put it all on the line for love before, not even in Italy, not like this.

"Eventually, we need to leave your apartment, Jess." He wouldn't meet her gaze.

"Eventually doesn't mean now. Stay until morning." She curled her fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt.

"It's already midnight, don't you have to get up early to deal with this work crisis? I will be in the way."

That's when she saw his own insecurity about this new relationship of theirs. Oddly, knowing he felt the same made her feel better.
       "I know it's easy to make plans when we're naked and fresh off an orgasm, but we talked earlier about you staying here while you're teaching the workshop at Boston College. Did you mean it?" she asked.

He covered her hand with his and smiled, finally looking her in the eye. "I did."

"Are you more scared of Simone's wrath or that I'll let you down again?" She leaned into him, enjoying how the cool breeze contrasted with the warmth of his body.

"Maybe the latter,
" he admitted on a sigh.

"I can handle Simone and whatever secrets you two have. I wear suits now, remember? Associate partner. I know people in this town, babe. I'm what you call
connected
." She leaned her shoulder against his and smiled when he laughed.

He rubbed his thumb against the rims of her glasses and shook his head, dimples appearing with his grin. "
You confuse the hell out of me."

"Madness, remember?"

"Definitely madness."

The taxi round
ed the corner. He stood and slipped his fingers from hers. Without another word, he jogged down the stairs.

"Don't go, Jacques." Her quiet words seemed loud in the midnight air. If he left—if he chose that woman now—she'd have a hard time letting him in again. She felt like a
trapeze artist performing without a net for the first time.

He opened the taxi door and
glanced back over his shoulder. He leaned inside, handed the driver some cash, and then slammed the door closed.

"You're staying?" She couldn't believe her eyes as he strolled back up the stairs to her.

"It's been a long time since we've woken up together." He lifted her feet off the ground and carried her through the front door. "I don't want to think about anyone else right now. For the next few hours at least, I want it to be just us, no one interfering."

"You don't
trust the idea of us, do you?"

He
maneuvered them through the open door of her apartment, closed it, all without answering.

Too tired to speak anymore, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. It had been a long time since she'd felt like this. For years she'd only wanted security in her life, that's what she'd tell anyone who ever asked. But she'd never felt as secure as she did when wrapped in Jacques' arms.

That terrified her more than she could explain.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

He grinned without opening his eyes when she slammed the snooze alarm for the fifth time. "Why don't you just shut
it off?"

"If only..." she muttered as she snuggled closer to his side. "I don't want to wake up."

He pulled her close and buried his face against the top of her head. He didn't want to either. With daylight came reality. They couldn't hide away any longer.  If he were a man of his word—which he'd always thought himself to be—then he would need to confront Simone this morning, check out of the hotel, and move in with the one woman who'd once had the power to destroy him.

He hated admitting that he was more afraid of being hurt again than staying in a loveless relationship.

With a sigh, she slid out of bed and walked to the shower, muttering to herself about not being able to believe it was only Tuesday. He grinned at the familiar grumpiness. She'd always hated mornings, never used to get out of bed until almost noon. His grin faded when he noticed the time. Perhaps madness like theirs only existed at night behind closed doors and wouldn't survive scrutiny in the daylight.

He curled against her vacated pillow and closed his eyes again, ignoring the rumbling in his heart that warned him of a great unraveling.

"Hey, you can stay as long as you want." She sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in a black dress and hair straightened. "You fell asleep again."

She held out the ring he'd left. When he only stared at it, she grabbed his left hand and slipped it on his finger without meeting his gaze.

"Listen, I know we said a lot of things last night, that we have a lot of emotion between us and some distrust; but, if we're going to have any chance at all, we need to be that Jessica and Jacques that loved each other. We need to be the two people who talked last night about second chances and being all in." She met his gaze then. "I will falter. I will probably get scared. Marc's already being a problem and I'm sure Simone will be, too. Then there's my mom...she's a piece of work and has a way of messing with my head so...there's that."

He silenced her with a kiss. "Are you sure this is what you want? You and me against the world?"

"I'd rather the world be on our side, but I'll take you any way I can have you," she admitted with a smile against his lips. "I know you're going to be walking into trouble when you leave here so I want you to have the ring back."

He curved his hand around her neck and stared into her eyes. "
Am I to use it as a shield or something?"

She smoothed her hand over the side of his face, thumb lingering on his mouth.
"I'm scared last night was temporary."

"Me, too." He hated saying that, but the thought had kept him up watching her as she'd slept.

Her buzzer rang and she frowned. "I bet that's Marc. Stay here, okay?"

And it begins...he thought as he watched her scramble
from the bed and close the door behind her. No way he'd stay hidden.

Grabbing her robe, he waited until he heard a man's voice in the living room before following. Marc stood there dressed in a suit that matched hers, holding a bag of bagels and apologizing for last night. They looked like a team, he thought again. A good looking, successful, dark haired duo
in black.

He stopped himself from interrupting when Jessica hugged Marc and told him that everything would be okay. With a sigh, he pressed his back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"We're early, let's eat these in the park," she said. "I'll meet you in the car, let me get my things."

"I love that idea. Be quick so we don't hit too much traffic," Marc said before leaving the apartment.

"Breakfast in the park...how nice." He stepped from his hiding place in the hallway and shoved his hands deep into the robe pockets. "Does this happen every morning?"

She looked guilty as hell when her gaze met his. "He behaved badly and this is his way of apologizing."

"You hid me away."

"Looks like you were the one doing the hiding." She smiled while looking in a drawer. "Here." She slid an extra key his way. "Just like the old days, we're moving in together without any type of dating or convention."

"We had a date last night, that counts."
He surrendered to her good humor and pulled her against him. "You two do look good together."

"Are you giving up already?" Doubt shadowed her eyes.

He wondered how long it would be before they could fully trust each other again. He hugged her tight. He wanted to tell her no, but he wasn't sure. He squeezed her close, inhaled the expensive perfume, and felt his heart clench with want.

"I never stopped loving you," he whispered against her ear, "but we have a lot to work out."

"So we'll work it out." She caressed his back before stepping away. "You look good in my robe. I have to go."

He nodded and walked to the window overlooking the street. He saw Marc waiting in a sleek black Jaguar. Jessica got in the passenger seat and never looked up, at least not that he saw before he stepped back.

Words were easy. Actions were hard.

He took his time showering, thankful that his phone had died during the night. For awhile he had what he craved—silence and solitude.

As a child of diplomat, he'd grown up living in countries all over the world. His mother was a renowned violinist, his father an ambassador. Ava and he had the good fortune to have trust funds that enabled them to follow their hearts' desire. Whereas Jessica craved security of one place, he wasn't sure what he wanted. Would restlessness always gnaw at him? Would she wait while he wandered? She'd said she would—and a large part of him craved someone waiting for him at home—but he wondered.

Dressed, he wandered upstairs to her studio and took his time flipping through her paintings. The woman had talent; he had no doubt about it.

He knelt between her paintings and laughed at one in particular of a boy flying a kite on a riverbank. She'd perfectly captured the joy and freedom of the moment.

But it was another that made him catch his breath—it was of them in Florence. He was holding her up in the air, both smiling, surrounded by opulent flowers. She'd recreated the golden glow of the Florence sunlight. He pulled the painting out and slipped it behind him. He pulled out more and more of them in Italy, wondering when she
had painted them all.

He laughed again when he discovered one of Ava laughing at a bistro, a bottle of wine in her hand, and of him looking directly at her with a lazy grin and love beaming from his eyes.

She'd painted their entire summer with an accuracy that forced him backward in time. Unlike photographs, she'd painted all of this from memory. His work paled in comparison to her talent—yet she kept it all here hidden away. He didn't understand.

He pulled out a few and propped them around the room. They would be the perfect addition to the exhibit on Friday.
He leaned against the wall and looked at them. The fact that she had thought for even a second that he'd been trying to set her up to make a fool of herself bothered him.

He looked down at the ring on his finger and sighed. They had a long way to go.

He walked to the gallery, his dead phone and the extra key in his pocket, and rehearsed his conversation with Simone. It wouldn't be easy, but it needed to be done.

The
gallery was quiet when he arrived. He strolled through the front, admiring the art on display, before making his way to the back room where Kevin had begun unpacking his framed photographs. He stood for a minute and simply observed. Unlike what he'd allowed Jessica to believe, the photographs weren't all of her. Kevin had already hung a few of the women he'd photographed in Brazil surrounded by blue butterflies in the forest. The colors and the joy of the photos always made him smile. His theme for the show mirrored that of the book:
Discovery.

When he'd hiked to the waterfall, he'd been fascinated by the thousands of butterflies hanging from the trees and dancing in the air. It had been like a magical forest. His hiking companions were delighted, everyone had laughed and lost time immersing themselves in a moment.

"Well, look who decided to show up and do some work himself." Kevin stood and motioned to the wall. "What do you think?"

"It looks good blown up like this." He touched the edge, unable to stop smiling. "I like it."

"Ah...you are strangely happy this morning." Kevin peered over the top of his glasses. "Where's the brunette?"

"I believe the question that's more pressing is where's the redhead?" He laughed at Kevin's frown.

"When you're happy like this, I get very suspicious. The redhead is missing."

"Missing?" His smile slipped. "What do you mean?"

"How many ways can you interpret the word missing?" Kevin shrugged and moved to another photograph. "Carter emailed some locations he's thinking of as an entry point to the river for some background photos. He knows your fascination with South America and would like your opinion before making initial contact with the government officials."

He folded his arms over his chest. "Did Simone leave Boston?"

"I have no idea where she is." Kevin wouldn't meet his gaze. "I emailed a few realtors about you leasing out your apartment."

"
That is good. I will be staying with Jessica after the exhibit."

Kevin faced him then, hands on hips. "And where am I staying?"

"New York." He shrugged.

Kevin's jaw sagged before he snapped to attention. "Who's going to keep you on schedule?"

"You via email and texts." He grinned at his assistant's exasperated look. "Listen, I need you in New York to work with Carter on this upcoming documentary. I trust your judgment. We'll commute back and forth as necessary for the next month. Now where is Simone?"

"I'm here."

He turned on a heel and saw her leaning against the back wall, face colored with anger. All good humor faded when he met her gaze.

She stalked toward him, fire and fury burning in her eyes.
"You're staying with Jessica? Did I hear you correctly? You are back together?"

"We need to talk somewhere alone, Simone." He ignored Kevin's snort from behind him.

"Does she know about Thailand?" She closed the gap between them. "Does she know what we are to one another? Does she know about your promise to me?"

"You need to let that go," he whispered without breaking eye contact. "It's been three years. How long are you going to hold onto that? You can have any man in the world, someone who loves you."

"Oh, I know." She smiled the smile that had made her famous. She leaned close and whispered in his ear, "I'm not as foolish as you seem to think."

He grabbed her arms and pushed her away. The timing for this couldn't be worse. He knew she'd follow through with her threats, but also knew she wasn't the evil bitch she pretended to be. At least he hoped she wasn't.

" I know you've been plotting away with your little assistant here. I knew it when I saw the proofs of your book and when you chose to come to Boston rather than stay in Manhattan. Who does that? You. Why? Because you're still a lovesick puppy over that mess of a woman."

"You're wrong. I didn't know she and I would get back together, I never thought it would be possible. All I wanted was to talk to her, to understand—"

"Understand what? That she's a selfish American who used you as a sex toy and let you believe it was more? I always called her a tourist, remember? That's all she was. You are an idiot to believe otherwise."

"I guess I
am an idiot then."

"You hoped all along she'd see your show, see your book, come back to you. I knew this." She ground her thumb against his collarbone. "I've been making plans, too, talking to my agent, preparing a strategy."

"Strategy?" He stepped back and collided with Kevin. His worst fears were coming true, he felt it in his bone marrow. With or without Jessica in the equation, Simone had been plotting.

"You are such a fraud." She motioned to the framed photographs on the wall behind him. "Joy. Discovery. Beauty. All from a corrupt man."

"We've had three years, survived hell together, and I have never lied to you, not once. " He grabbed her elbow when she turned away from him. "I never promised you forever."

"And I never promised you civility. I'm a survivor. You've said it yourself multiple times. We'll talk soon."

"I'm not changing my mind," he said with enough force to insure she knew he wouldn't back down. "Do whatever you need to do, but we don't need to be enemies. We've had a lot of years together. Let's not make this ugly."

"You made it ugly a long time ago." She glanced over his shoulder to where Kevin stood. "I'll see you soon, little man."

He watched her go, debated about following her, and then shrugged off his concern. He'd known a gentle side of Simone. He needed to believe that her threats were empty.

"What happened in Thailand?" Kevin asked. "What is she going to do?"