Chapter 9
Kelsi heard theknock on the door and hauled herself off the sofa, knowing it was Jack coming to cook dinner.
‘Oh, wow.’ She stared, her heart seizing. ‘Um...um...I...’
Yeah, words weren’t possible.
He stepped inside. ‘Not what you expected, huh?’
She leaned on the door and watched the back view as he walked into her kitchen. Jack was in a suit. Jack was in the most beautifully tailored tux she’d ever seen outside Oscar telecoverage. Jack was looking so out of this world her eyes watered.
‘You’re going to cook in that?’ she croaked.
‘Actually I prepared something last night. It’s in the fridge. Just needs heating. You have to heat it up really well, and let it cool, okay?’
Yeah, she got the stop-the-salmonella instruction. Did that mean he wasn’t dining with her tonight?
Of course he wasn’t. He was in a tux. He was going out. Her heart sank into the abyss. Did he have a hot date or something? With one of those uber-rich babe types who liked to stay at his lodge?
‘It’s a celebrate sports dinner thing tonight. The rugby guys and netball girls get the gongs.’ He winked. ‘But we go for the free food and the fans who win the tickets to sit at the table.’
Okay, not a date. She breathed a fraction. But there’d be all those talented women there. And diehard fangirls.
And she was so pathetically jealous.
He was frowning as he looked around her room. Suddenly he turned to face her. ‘You want to come with me?’
Um. That would be a no.
‘I wasn’t going to go but the team knows I’m back in town and as half of the others are still overseas, I have to rep them.’
‘Of course.’
‘So you’ll come, too? It’s at the gallery. Be a big crowd, but it’ll be fun.’
‘Oh, no. Thanks.’ Could the earth open up and swallow her now. Please?
‘Why not?’
Because it was such a last-minute idea. He’d known he had this coming—he’d prepared food for her last night because he’d known he was going out. It was only now he was seeing her look so tragic and alone on a Friday night that he thought he’d better issue a sympathy invite.
‘I’m feeling really tired,’ she said. It was the perfect excuse—face-saving.
But he looked too concerned.
‘I’m fine,’ she assured him instantly, ‘I’ll just have an early night and sleep.’
His frown didn’t lighten. ‘You’ll eat something though, right? You want me to get it ready now?’
‘I can manage the microwave,’ she said, feeling sicker than she had this morning. ‘You go. Go.’ She opened the door. ‘You don’t want to be late.’
‘I don’t really want to go.’
He wasn’t walking out fast enough for her coping mechanism.
‘It’ll be fun.’ She pasted on her best smile. ‘Really good.’
Still he stood in the middle of her lounge, not moving. ‘You’re sure you’ll be okay?’
She wasn’t an invalid. But she held back her mounting upset and made herself beam. ‘Yes. Go.’
And thank heavens, he did.
She ran to the bathroom, her mouth filling with bitter spit. Then she spent five minutes brushing her teeth. Then she looked in the mirror.
She couldn’t help wondering about the baby—would it inherit her orange hair and skimmed milk complexion? She sure hoped not, she hoped it would have all of Jack’s genes and none of hers. Except that wasn’t quite possible.
Poor thing.
He was so handsome. Everything that was perfect. And she just wasn’t.
She stared at her reflection, bent forward and took the contacts out and then stood and stared even harder. She’d stopped bleaching her hair the minute she’d found out she was pregnant. So her natural orange was starting to show through already, her skin was paler than tissue paper and speckled all over.
She was what every kid in the playground had called her—a freak.
If she had a sparkling personality maybe that would cancel it out. But she wasn’t one of those really outgoing sort who could talk to anyone about anything. One-to-one conversation she could do, but a room full of party people?
No.
And while she might be a damn good web designer, that wasn’t exactly a talent that scored accolades.
But the father of her baby wasn’t just modelicious-looking, he was seriously monied and an international sporting star. He’d have a million beautiful women throwing themselves at him tonight. And why would he refuse them?
Why would he want her instead of them?
Short answer—he wouldn’t. He didn’t. He never would.
And that was when—for the first time all week—the tears finally fell.
She went back into her little lounge and curled up with a cushion, burying her face in it as she howled. Knowing damn well she was being pathetic. She was resigned to her looks, was content to make herself ‘quirky’ rather than cute. But sometimes, just sometimes, she wished she’d been born pretty.
This was so one of those times. And where was a fairy godmother when you needed her?
Jack felt as if an army of ants was dancing up and down his spinal cord. He fidgeted as he walked towards the venue, his feet slowing as he saw it in the distance. He really didn’t want to go there. Not without Kelsi. He’d hoped she might say yes to coming with him. He knew she liked art and the function was being held in the city gallery. But she’d shied away from the invite. Even though he’d deliberately kept it casual, she’d still said no.
Hell, he should have said no, too. He didn’t feel like seeing the other guys. He just wanted to be with Kelsi. He was tired of fighting it. They had to get to some better arrangement—he had some feelings that were worsening, not lessening. Denial wasn’t doing it. He stopped in the middle of the path and thought for another split second.
And then he turned around. As the house came back into view he imagined it whole again, imagined it filled Kelsi-style—with that warm, welcoming chaos that somehow he’d gotten used to. There was security in all that stuff. She’d make it such a great home. A funny feeling splintered his chest and he realized something—his baby was lucky.
She didn’t answer when he knocked. But her door wasn’t locked and he couldn’t not check on her. Surely she couldn’t be asleep already—he’d been gone less than half an hour. He’d just peek and see.
She was on the sofa, tucked into the cushions. Maybe she was asleep. But then he saw her shoulders move.
‘Kelsi?’
She jerked up, swiftly turning away from him. ‘What are you doing back here?’
‘I didn’t—’ He broke off and saw her shoulders shudder again.
She was crying.
‘What’s wrong? Is something wrong?’ His heart pounded faster than the first time he’d attempted a 1080 and smashed down flat on his face.
‘Please go away,’ she mumbled.
‘No. You’re upset.’ This was worse than when he’d heard her being sick this morning. This was like watching someone swallowing broken glass and not being able to stop them.
‘Jack.’ She put her fists to her face, hiding the fast- flowing tears. ‘Can’t you leave?’
He went and found a flannel, ran it under cold water, and stalked back to the sofa. She hadn’t moved. He sat right next to her and forced her hands from her face, holding the flannel to her eyes—trying to be gentle.
Her half-sobs stopped, but she kept her eyes closed.
He turned her towards him with his fingers on her chin. ‘Kelsi, please look at me.’
Colour flashed.
He drew in a sharp breath, the surge of need rising so fast, blasting all thought from his head. ‘Oh, my God.’
He dropped the flannel, framing her face with his hands as he gazed into her beautiful, bare eyes. So hungry to see them.
Leonine—gold—the most unusual pale gold. ‘Why do you hide them?’ He was so incredulous his words whispered out instead of roaring as he’d meant. He just couldn’t understand why she would. They were so unique. So beautiful. Just like the rest of her.
‘Why are you here?’ she said angrily, twisting free from his grip. ‘You’re supposed to be at that dinner.’ She sniffed and grabbed the flannel from her lap, hiding her eyes from him again.
He tried to gather his scattered wits. ‘Is it because of the baby? Is that why you’re so upset?’ He desperately wanted to know. He desperately wanted to help. He desperately wanted to gather her close and cradle her and tell her it was all going to be all right.
She shook her head. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’
He didn’t believe that was all it was. But he didn’t know how to fix it. She was inching away from him. Not even that subtly, moving farther and farther away.
Oh, hell. Did she feel that helplessly trapped?
God, they needed to get out of here. He could really do with some air.
He frowned. Come to think of it, she hadn’t been out once all week—aside from work. Sure, he hadn’t either, but he’d been texting his friends and caught up with a couple during the day. But Kelsi’s phone hadn’t rung once. He knew she was quiet—that was okay—but lonely wasn’t so good.
And she shouldn’t be lonely. She should have a ton of friends. She was fun company—bright, with a sharp sense of humour that appeared when you least expected it. Yeah, he got that she was a little shy—the kind of work she did told him that. She hid behind a computer screen and emailed rather than talked face-to-face. But she could get over that...
‘You should go to the function,’ she said gruffly. ‘You can’t just not show up.’
‘Why not?’ He shrugged. ‘I wasn’t going to be there originally.’
‘But they’re expecting you now. Those people have paid money or won competitions to be there.’
Yeah, he knew that, didn’t need to be made to feel worse about it. Actually it was her wanting rid of him that made him feel worse. ‘I’m not leaving you alone when you’re like this.’
She looked cross. ‘I’m not helpless, Jack. I’m fine.’
‘Prove it, then,’ he said coolly. ‘Come out with me.’
‘No.’
‘You haven’t been out all week,’ he said firmly. ‘You can’t spend your life at home.’
She was sitting very still a clear foot from him.
He leaned across and brushed her crazy hair back from her cheek. ‘I’m not going unless you go with me.’
She leapt up from the sofa as if his hand had burned like the sun. ‘I can’t. I haven’t anything appropriate to wear.’
Oh, that was a pathetic excuse.
‘What do you mean, not appropriate? All your clothes are appropriate.’
‘Not for a black tie event.’ She whirled to face him, her golden eyes glittering—killing him. ‘I don’t have a fairy godmother. There’s no one to give me a makeover to go to the ball.’
‘You don’t need a makeover,’ he said automatically, still stunned by her eyes. ‘You’re perfect as you are.’
But now those eyes filled again. ‘Don’t say that.’
‘It’s true.’ He stood, needing to get it through to her somehow—like with a battering ram or something. ‘I’m not making it up, Kelsi. I’d be proud to have you walk in with me.’
She stared at him as if he was a lunatic. The ants danced down his spine some more. And his instinct told him he needed to get her out of there, that he needed to take her with him. ‘Just go and get dressed. Wear any of your dresses—all of them at once if you want,’ he joked lightly. ‘Just come out and have some fun.’
He breathed in, waiting. But she seemed to be waiting, too.
‘Please.’ Did the sound come out on that or had he just thought he’d said it? He really wasn’t sure because his mouth had all dried up.
But she’d turned. She’d walked.
And he was waiting.
Kelsi went back to the bathroom and breathed in deep. Jack wasn’t going without her. That was clear. But she didn’t have a ball gown and there’d be all those amazing sportswomen there with their strong, fit bodies and their tanned skin and their glamorous hair and make-up. And she just couldn’t believe his ‘you’re perfect’ line. Too smooth.
Too tempting.
And worse still, she couldn’t put in any contacts now. Her eyes were sore and red from crying and they’d only water more if she tried to put them in. She was going to have to go out with naked eyes. She hadn’t done that in such a long time.
She should feign illness. Plead exhaustion.
Except there was that yearning—reaching up from her most secret self. She really did want to go. To go out with him just the once. To be the one on his arm even for only one night. To be the one he wanted to be with.
And she was too tired to fight the fantasy.
She turned the shower on and jumped in, quickly washing away the stains of the day. She twisted her hair up, hiding the worst of it and skimming some make-up over her face. Then she went in search of a frock.
He was standing at the lounge window when she emerged from her bedroom. And, yeah, it was the fantasist in her that saw his whole face light up.
He held the door open for her. ‘What do you call this?’ He brushed the feather she’d pinned in to half hide the mess of hair exploding from her high ponytail as she walked past him.
‘A fascinator.’
‘Very appropriate.’
See—his charm would see him win every time.
He’d called a cab and it was already outside. Nervously, she tucked her dress in close so its skirt wouldn’t get caught in the door. It was one of her long ones, of course. But she’d skipped a few layers—including her bra—because it had a peephole in the centre of her back. For once she let it peep all the way to skin, not another layer. And her arms were bare. She basically felt naked.
‘You’re going to meet some of the guys. I have to warn you they can be a bit extreme,’ he said as he joined her in the back seat.
‘In what way?’ She tried to keep her breathing regular.
‘Oh, you know, a bit crazy.’
‘You have to be crazy to do what you do.’
‘Yeah, the snowboarding table is always at the back of the room.’
‘So if you make too much noise it’s not so far to throw you out?’
‘Not me.’ He laughed. ‘Them.’
She bit her lip—she wasn’t a party queen. And she couldn’t even have a drink to help her relax. This was just madness.
The place was full already, of course. Pre-dinner drinks were almost over, which was perfect timing because they could just slip into the crowd rather than make any kind of grand entrance.
‘That’s them over there.’ Jack waved to a guy across the room and took her hand to draw her with him. There were a bunch of them, all in suits but some with personalising features—big hair and beanies seemed to be the order of the day.
Jack got waylaid three quarters of the way across the room by some other big, tall, fit person but she glanced over and saw the snowboarders were watching them, and now walking nearer to meet up with them. She half turned to Jack to listen to him greeting the guy who she now recognised as a rugby star. But the low conversation easily came to her ears as the beanie brigade neared.
‘Check out the woman Jack’s with.’
‘Sick.’
‘Yeah.’
Kelsi stiffened. They thought she was sick? Okay, so she had pale skin, so what? That didn’t mean she was at death’s door or anything. She shouldn’t have left her arms bare. She shouldn’t even be here.
‘You okay?’ Jack asked quietly, turning to her after a big laugh with the rugby dude.
‘Sure.’ She made herself smile.
‘Come and meet the guys.’
Reluctantly, she stepped up as he introduced her. Tahu, Drew and Max—who all stood smiling and silent and staring at Jack as if he was better than Father Christmas.
‘Max is the current boardercross champ,’ Jack said with his wicked grin.
‘Boardercross?’ Kelsi asked
‘You get four guys going straight down an obstacle course as fast as possible. First to the bottom wins. Take no prisoners,’ Jack explained. ‘Tahu and Drew specialise in superpipe.’ He looked over at Drew. ‘How was Silverton?’
‘Sick.’ Drew answered Jack direct with an almost shy smile. ‘Tori pulled another McTwist and then nailed her first 720.’
‘Wow.’ Jack’s brows lifted. ‘She’s been after that for ages. Is she here?’
‘Should be soon.’
Kelsi tugged on Jack’s sleeve. ‘You’re going to have to translate again for me.’
‘McTwist, 720, 1080, all tricks—jumps and turns you make on the half pipe.’ Jack twirled his finger in the air.
‘And they’re “sick”?’ Kelsi really needed that one clarified.
‘Awesome, fantastic, rad.’ Thesaurus Jack offered some synonyms.
So ‘sick’ was a compliment in snowboard speak?
Kelsi flushed, felt her smile go natural.
Jack put his hand on her back. ‘The slang is a little OTT.’
‘You don’t snowboard?’ Drew asked, amazed.
Kelsi shook her head, unable to speak because Jack’s hand had slid a little higher up her back and now his thumb was stroking over that small spot of bared skin.
‘You have to go,’ Tahu said. ‘Do it once and you’re hooked.’
Rather like riding Jack himself. Oh, she so had to get a grip on herself.
‘Jack’ll show you,’ Tahu added.
‘Yeah,’ Drew agreed, utterly serious. ‘He’s the master of big air.’
Jack led her away with a slightly pained expression.
‘He meant hot air,’ Kelsi teased, wriggling away from Jack’s marauding thumb.
His arm went right around her waist and he pulled her close. ‘Very funny,’ he muttered in her ear.
He took her to talk to the fans there to meet him. But as they all came together again to sit down for dinner it struck her that the other snowboarders were just as much fans of Jack’s as the people who’d paid to be there. They all watched him, they all hung on his every word. Beside her he rested his elbow on the back of her chair, leaning close as he listened and answered the zillion questions that came from both fans and fellow athletes. Quietly humble and polite in the face of all the adoration.
His attention to her was all politeness, too—he was just being nice, friendly, ensuring she was having a good time. Which she was. He was the perfect PR charmer—who she was so hopelessly attracted to.
Just as the formal part of the evening came to an end, a woman appeared—welcomed with cries from Tahu and Max about how typical it was for her to be so late. She was medium height with long blonde hair, blue eyes and smooth, clear, freckle-free skin. Kelsi gazed at her in awe.
‘This is Tori—New Zealand’s future slopestyle queen.’ Jack introduced the girl who was smiling so brightly at him.
This girl wouldn’t just be the queen of snow, she’d be the queen of the world. Just as Jack was the king. It wasn’t midnight but the dream was over already—Kelsi was the pumpkin in the presence of the real princess. Tori was everything Kelsi wasn’t. And not just in looks—she was sociable, talented and successful in a field others were actually interested in. She had it all.
Kelsi looked around the room and saw all the other fit, fit bodies—male and female. Good genes and talent and determination oozed from all these absolute champions. And the fun she’d felt only moments before tumbled away.
She was so out of place.
‘Dance with me.’ Jack couldn’t wait a second longer to get Kelsi in his arms. To wangle it so he could feel some more of her soft, smooth skin again.
She obliged, but she wasn’t focused on him. She was too busy star-spotting and determinedly not looking at him.
‘There are a lot of really gorgeous women snowboarders, aren’t there?’ she commented. ‘Like Tori. They’re all so beautiful and nice and amazingly talented.’
‘You’re more beautiful,’ he said simply.
He watched the colour flow in her cheeks and her lips tighten. She didn’t believe him. She was really that insecure? He’d seen the way she’d fidgeted with her dress when she’d seen the short-skirt numbers of the netballers. He thought her outfit was devastating in the less-skin-is-more kind of way. Although right now he wanted more skin for sure. But she wasn’t comfortable in it, was she—just being in her own skin?
Suddenly he saw what the problem was. The completely obvious obstacle that had made her try to put up all the stop signs the minute he’d walked back into her life.
She didn’t think she was hot.
He swore under his breath and had to consciously relax his hold on her. Didn’t she realise he was the envy of every guy here tonight? That they all wanted to tuck her into their pocket and carry her off somewhere private to do wicked things with her?
He watched her eyes flicker again as another six-foot netball Amazon strutted past.
Everything crystallised.
She’d accused him of wanting ‘anything that moved’ because she didn’t think she was pretty enough to attract him. She thought that he’d only hit on her that day because she was there—the nearest body to scratch the itch he had at the time.
Good grief.
Insulting to him, yes. But even more insulting to herself.
Fury rose—who hadn’t told her how beautiful she was? How incredibly sexy? More than that, how attractive she was underneath the skin—how interesting, fun, sweet, talented, strong. Yeah, she was unbelievably strong and determined and bright and articulate... He could go on and on and on because she really did bewitch him. And he couldn’t believe she didn’t believe it.
She was an amazing woman, who should never have lost her confidence in herself like this. He hated whoever it was who hurt her so badly. He wanted to know who and why and how. He wanted to slam out the insecurity.
Desperate desire hurtled through his body, testosterone snapping every muscle to tight tension. And with it came the single-minded determination he was famous for.
He’d prove it to her. He’d prove her gorgeousness. Tonight. Over and over and over again.