Reunion for the First Time (12 page)

Stunned by the encompassing power he had over all her senses as his heat collided with hers, Lizzie pressed her hips against him, aching with desire. His arousal pressed at her center spurring an elevator rise of elation and an upsurge of sexual need so acute her arms and legs trembled.

Just when she thought there’d be nowhere else for them to go but the floor, ripping off clothes, his lips left hers, his arms loosened, and the embrace was broken. Shaking and dizzy, she blinked her eyes and stared at him in a stupor, separated from him by inches. Seemingly frozen to the spot, her arms hung at her sides.

His jaw rigid, Jack regarded her with magnetizing intensity. Passion swirled in his night sky eyes. For her. Jack wanted her. Not as a stand-in for his brother. There was nothing remotely brotherly about that kiss.

He made a move toward the door. She brushed her hand on his arm and invited, “You don’t have to go.”

Hesitating briefly, still staring at her with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “I think I’d better,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

He strode toward the door and opened it. Turning his head, unsmiling, he said, “This was nice, thank you.” His gaze penetrating, he challenged her. “See if you have as nice a time with
Wally.”

Facing the open door, Jack tossed out, “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

He left, closing the door with a quick tug behind him.

Lizzie leaned her back against the metal door. The buildings’ lights were a blur through her windows. She rubbed her fingertips over tingling lips, still warm from the surprising, steamy kiss. Jack was a surprising man, and that’s not all. Jack was jealous. No other way to interpret that parting jab at
“Wally.”

Comparing men in her life to Wallace had been Lizzie’s habit and had impeded her from developing anything more than fleeting relationships in the past. Wallace had never kissed her like Jack.

She did a little end zone dance over to her kitchen sink.

“Are you ready for some football?” she sang out. Then she tackled her dirty dishes.

Chapter Ten

“Yes, Allie.” Charlie answered the intercom buzzer.

“Lizzie Moran is here to see you.”

Charlie stood and leaned over the microphone on the console. “Great. Show her into the conference room, will you please? I’ll be right there.”

Unusual for Lizzie to be a half hour late, at least she had showed up. Jack, who was usually very punctual, too, hadn’t shown at all.

Charlie dialed Jack’s office and found that he was still involved in a presentation behind closed doors. When Charlie scheduled the meeting, Jack had warned him that he might not be able to break away.

Exasperated, Charlie grabbed his coffee mug and headed to the conference room.

He moved down the narrow hallway.
Give me a break will you, Mari? How am I going to bring them together if I can’t even get them in the same room at the same time?

He caught a glimpse of
Lizzie through the glass wall. She was bent over the proofs that he had lined around the conference table earlier.

Still frustrated, he swung the heavy glass door open and stepped inside.

She raised her head and banished his sullen mood with her smile. “Hi, Charlie.”

He had missed her contagious sweetness. Glad to see her, he forgot his futile attempts at matchmaking.

Setting his mug on the table, he grabbed both her hands and appraised her slim figure in her dark business pants suit.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” he declared. “How have you been? Have you lost more weight? You’re disappearing.”

“Hardly.” She laughed. “But I could say the same for you.”

Her brow furrowed. “Are you eating?”

“Yeah, I eat.” Slipping his hands from hers, he picked up his mug and gulped.

“Mostly, I drink coffee.” He shrugged. “What do you think of the proofs?”

“They’re gorgeous.” She wandered around the conference table. “I don’t know why I waited so long to work with you on a book. I almost don’t believe I took these pictures. It’s like a dream for me to see them in this form.”

“I know. I’m very proud of this book. Both for your artistry and the artistry of the buildings themselves.” Charlie picked up a thick sheaf of papers and took a seat at the table.

“I have some paper samples we might use for final printing here, Liz. Want to give me your opinion about them?”

“Sure.” Sitting across from him, she sorted through the samples several times and picked out three favorites.

“Thanks.” Charlie piled her choices and the rest of the samples separately in front of him on the table. “So how did the reunion go?”

“The reunion? Wow. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since then. Maybe that’s a good thing since my first inclination was to murder you after you sent Jack instead.” She leaned back against her chair.

“I figured as much. But at least Jack was willing to help me, and you weren’t let down completely. He seemed to think he did all right by you. Was he right?”

Charlie had talked to Jack when he came back. Something seemed to change with him. Jack wouldn’t comment further except to say things went well, but he had seemed guarded, too eager to change the subject. Charlie suspected something had happened, but he might never know unless Lizzie was more forthcoming.

“Yes. It was fun. He was a perfect gentleman. Wallace paid attention big time. I’ve seen Wallace once since then, and we have a date for dinner and the symphony tomorrow night.”

Mari, for crying out loud. A little help here, please?

“That’s good.” Charlie considered tying her to a chair until Jack made an appearance.

He wanted to see them together and try to figure out what he had to work with to fulfill Mari’s wishes

“So Wallace is interested in you again?”
Wallace is an ass and she deserves to be happy.

“It seems so.” Lizzie stood and poured coffee from a pot on the credenza into a Styrofoam cup. “Wallace bought me roses and champagne. He took me on a picnic by the Charles River. It was a perfect day.”

Charlie’s spirits sank. How could she fall for this guy again? He rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Hey, did Jack tell you I beat him at golf?” Her eyes gleamed as she turned around to face him leaning against the credenza. “What a good sport. I had the
most
fun playing that round.”

“Why no. He didn’t mention that.” His spirits lifted some. So Jack was withholding information as he had suspected. “But I’m sure I know why. I don’t think Jack would brag about letting a girl beat him on the links.”

“Not just any girl. Why don’t you come out with me sometime and see if you can beat me?”

Her hopeful look melted his heart. She’d never stop trying to nudge him toward a “normal” life. As if that were possible without Mari.

But he appreciated that Lizzie didn’t give up on him. And he wouldn’t give up on her, either. She didn’t belong with Wallace. Mari had known it and so did he. At that moment, he made up his mind to make sure that didn’t happen.

“It’s none of my business, Liz, but I got the impression from Mari that Wallace mistreated you. Why are you allowing that again?”

“Hmmm. You know, I always thought that if he were interested in me again I’d feel vindicated. And I could choose him or reject him. I certainly won’t accept any mistreatment that’s for sure.” She drained her coffee cup. “Do you need anything else from me, Charlie? I’ve got a dinner meeting on the north side with my editor. She’s in town overnight, and it’s a bit of a command performance.”

“No. I guess we’re done. I’ll get Jack’s opinion later. He still might get over here if his meeting’s finished. You want to wait a while longer?”

Lizzie looked confused. “No, I can’t. Why would Jack have an opinion?”

Charlie laughed. “He probably won’t. But I like to run these things by him.”

“OK. Sure, Charlie. Well, tell Jack hello for me.”

She turned to go, then pivoted back around. “Want to join me and Ellen for dinner? There may be some boring trade talk, but she’s a really nice person. It might be fun to get out.”

“No, thanks. I’d be outnumbered. Hey, maybe Jack would want to go. You know, even out the genders a little? Let me give him another call.” He had to stop this Wallace thing.

Charlie picked up the phone and dialed before Lizzie could protest. Disappointed that Jack was still in his meeting and couldn’t be disturbed, he hung up shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Guess not.” Now he appreciated how frustrated Mari was with the whole matchmaking quest.

She looked at him quizzically. “Charlie, are you all right?”

He tried to brighten the expression on his face and hoped he had succeeded. “Of course. Enjoy your evening, Lizzie. Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”

Offering her his arm, he ushered her to the reception area.

Chapter Eleven

“What is your name?” Wallace demanded an answer, peering at the security guard’s name badge. “Byron, is it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, Byron, Miss Moran is expecting me, and I expect you to give me her floor number right now.”

Wallace faced off with Byron. “No sir. You may not go upstairs without a resident escort. You will sign this book and show me a picture ID.”

Byron folded his arms, resting his huge hands over bulging biceps and leaned forward, looming toward Wallace. He stared at him, pursed his lips into a solid straight line and waited, stoic and duty bound.

The nerve of this man. As if I presented a security risk.

Wallace pulled a slim wallet from the inner pocket of his impeccable Armani suit jacket, opened it and pried out his driver’s license. He slapped it on the console between them with a snap. The billfold probably cost more than one week of Byron’s salary.

Byron picked up the ID and read it ridiculously slowly while Wallace fumed. Byron handed it back to him, a neutral expression on his face. “Mr. Prescott. If you’d be so kind as to sign here.”

Sliding the visitors’ log toward him, Byron placed the tip of a finger on the next blank line. The pressure of the security man’s hand on the book was obviously a power play.

Let this underling play his games. I’ll figure out a way to get him fired.

Wallace ignored the ballpoint on the counter next to the log and pulled a fountain pen from his inner pocket. He unscrewed its cap and scribbled something indecipherable on the line. May have been his name, maybe not.

He looked up at Byron annoyed with this pointless inconvenience. “What is Elizabeth’s unit number?” Wallace walked over and had his hand on the door leading to the bank of elevators.

Byron had the phone to his ear. “I’m calling Ms. Moran right now to tell her you’re waiting for her to escort you from the lobby.”

Wallace switched direction, “Tell her I’ll be in the car.” He skirted the security desk bound for the revolving door.

“Asshole,” Byron muttered.

Wallace spun on him. “
What
did you just
say?
”

“I said, as you wish.” Byron glared at him deadpan.

Disgusted, Wallace shoved through the revolving door outside.

****

Lizzie peered inside the car. “Hello, Wallace. It’s so good to see you again.”

She took a seat where he patted his hand. The silent driver eased the door shut, walked around the car and took the wheel.

Classical music and Wallace’s citrus cologne filled the car. The smells of masculine power enveloped her, Ralph Lauren and luxury leather. He took her hand and held it limp in his.

“It’s good to see you, too, Elizabeth. Four weeks was too long. You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“You look perfect for what I have planned this evening.” He gestured to the driver to turn at the light. “Much less provocative than the dress you wore at the gala.”

Lizzie remembered Jack’s reaction to the red dress. She preferred provocative.

“So,” Wallace’s voice cut through, “we have a great deal to catch up on.”

Lizzie looked out the window at the display of Christmas lights on tree-lined streets and building facades and then turned toward him, his features at once in shadow, and then spotlighted by the movement of the car. “It’s hard to know where to begin.”

“I’d like to begin with the present.” Wallace crossed his leg and didn’t seem to notice that he’d brushed the bottom of his shoe on Lizzie’s silk hose. Miffed, she brushed away a smudge of dirt.

His expression mild, he obviously wasn’t taking any accountability. “I’ve had a very successful series of meetings in Chicago. I’m confident that my design for the new Global Commerce Building will win the day. I’m sure I impressed the panel. First I told them…”

Her mind registered a drone. The car merged into Michigan Avenue traffic, traveled several blocks, and stopped in front of Orchestra Hall. The driver opened the door for Wallace on the street side. When Wallace didn’t make a move to open the door for her, the driver raced around the car and yanked Lizzie’s door open.

Wallace waited for her on the sidewalk. He placed his hand on her back and ushered her through gilt framed doors into the vestibule of the great Hall. Then he directed her to a small elevator off the lobby that took them above the concert area to a private dining room.

A few tables flanked a bank of windows overlooking Michigan Avenue. A wood fire flickered in the hearth of an ornately carved fireplace at the far end of the room. Diners conversed quietly and ignored newcomers.

The young Barbie doll hostess greeted them and checked a list on an antique desk at the entrance when Wallace pronounced his name. Lizzie followed the bouncy blond to a table set for two in the center of the room, and Barbie pulled out a chair for Lizzie. She bent to take her seat, but Wallace walked away from the table.

He pointed to a vacant table for four at the window. “We’d like that one.”

The hostess’s gaze darted back and forth between the two tables. “Sir, that table is reserved for a party of four.”

Wallace took a seat at the window table and gestured to Lizzie to come over. “This will be fine. A waiter can remove the extra settings.”

Poised over the chair, Lizzie looked at the hostess for direction.