Chapter 6
Chapter
6
She just wanted to get away from it all.
Just take a break from everything. And she loved the arts. She
relished going to galleries and museums, taking in the creativity,
the way people have about them – capturing a scene on canvas or
a sculpture that catches the eyes with the lines and sinuous curves.
She loved it all and had tried her hand at pottery and a little
painting. She was not very good at either, but it relaxed her.
And besides, her brother was barely
speaking to her. So, she decided to hell with it and invited Jazmine
to go with her. It was a fairly new gallery – not on a large
scale, but one where Jackson and Jason Colby would be displaying
their amazing talents.
"This is lovely," Jazmine's eyes
brightened as she looked around the lofty room with the glittering
chandeliers, people in their finest clothing and the artworks
displayed on the walls.
She had gone all out and dressed to kill.
The dress was probably a bit much, the emerald silk overlaid with
tiny rhinestones, just went south of indecent, showcasing her long
and well-toned legs. She had clamped a gold bracelet on her upper arm
and hammered gold dripped from her lobes with tiny gold knobs in the
other four holes in each ear. Her makeup was flawless, and she had
brushed back her hair severely in a single ponytail that laid over
her left breast.
"Isn't it?" her golden-brown eyes
glowed as she too looked around, a smile curving her lips.
Across the room, Jack had no idea what made
him look up. The minute he did, his gaze was zeroed in on her and he
felt the heat flowing through his body - slow, insidious and hot –
very hot. His fingers clenched on the delicate stem of the glass and
for that moment, he had no idea what the people around him were
talking about. Including his date. If someone had asked him what her
name was, he wouldn't have a clue. His entire focus was on the
infuriatingly rude woman who had burst into his house and lashed him
with her razor-sharp tongue.
As if he had willed it that way, she looked
up and met his eyes. The jolt arrowed through his body with the
sharpness of glass and had him stiffening. He saw disdain curving her
lips, lips that had his attention drawn and a coil of tension in his
lower body.
Furious with himself, he stared at her with
icy contempt, letting his gaze wander down her body, lingering on the
indecent glimpse of flesh displayed by the cut of the dress.
What did he expect for a woman who works in
a damn bar? He thought bitterly. Turning away deliberately, he forced
himself to pay attention to the cool blonde beauty he had invited to
the opening.
But even though he was not looking at her,
his awareness of her was so keen, he could barely concentrate. Damn
the woman to hell!
Zuri told herself that she would ignore
him. Could ignore him. Of all the places to see him again, but she
supposed this was his kind of scenery. It was a Colby's showing after
all. And to her mind, he did not look any less of a jerk than when he
tried to intimidate her at his fricking mansion. He might be wearing
a silk sweater and dress pants, with his hair immaculately styled,
but he still had jerk written all over him.
And he was welcome to that icy bottle
blonde, clinging to his damn arms as if she was glued there. She
wondered how the woman could stand to be with someone like him. But
money shouted.
Mentally shrugging away her anger, she
turned towards the painting her friend was gushing over. "Isn't
it just wonderful?" she whispered. "Not that I can afford
anything in here. And I happen to have money."
Zuri studied the scene, admiring the clean
lines and the attention to details. It was by some obscure artist,
but whoever E. Ennis was, he was clearly going places. He or she had
painted the fall weather in all its glory. Leaves ranging from russet
to gold, some on the hard baked ground and others drifting from the
trees. A fiery sunset peeped through the branches and behind the
group of trees, a sad-looking cabin stood
in a clearing. Smoke drifted and if one looked closely enough, they
could see a face peeping through tattered curtains.
It jerked at her, touched somewhere deep
inside and she wished she had the money to purchase the painting.
"It would look very good in the bar,"
she murmured, touching the canvas lightly.
"You should buy it."
She laughed at that. "If only I could.
I have savings and the bar is doing very well, but this is a
frivolous buy, and Zach would have my head. We're not exactly on the
best of terms."
"Because of that child."
Zuri turned her head to look at her friend.
"He told you."
She nodded. "He's worried."
"He discussed it with you."
Jazmine lifted uneasy shoulders. "He
just mentioned it. Isn't that his dad watching you from over there?"
She forced herself not to look. "Probably
planning ways to get the bar closed," she muttered. "He's a
bully. And like all bullies, they hate to be confronted."
Stamping a determined look on her face, she started to turn away.
"Zoo, what are you doing?"
"Confronting the problem and letting
him know that I am not afraid of him."
"This is not a good idea."
Jazmine grabbed her arm as if she was trying to stop her.
"You don't have to come."
With a sigh of despair, she trailed after
her friend.
"Mr. Hadley."
He had been in the middle of listening to
something Belinda was saying to him when she called his name. His
spine stiffened and he had to steel himself to turn towards the
voice. Across the room, she was lethal, up close she fairly took his
breath away. Barely glancing at the
woman next to her, he focused his gaze on her and tried to keep his
emotions under control.
"Ms. Bennett, what are you doing
here?" The voice was deep and had a hint of contempt that had
her hackles rising.
"I am assuming this is open to the
public, even someone as lowly as I am." She turned towards the
blonde who had remained silent. "I recognize you. An actress? A
model?"
"Actress," the woman offered a
thin smile, green eyes glowing. "Belinda Magnum."
"Ah, yes. From one of those soap
operas." Dismissing the woman, she turned towards the man who
was glowering at her. "How's Jason? I'm assuming you did not
make good on your threat to shove him off to boarding school?"
Gray eyes glittered at her and the
expression on his face turned ominous.
"What I do with my son is none of your
concern."
"He was the one who came to me."
Ignoring the way her friend was digging into her arm, she continued.
"And it concerns me when a child is being abused."
The silence that followed that incendiary
statement was thick with tension and for a minute, no one reacted.
"You think I'm abusing my son?"
he asked silkily.
"I'm sure she did not mean-"
"There is much more than physical
abuse," Zuri cut off her friend's defense ruthlessly. "There's
also the mental and emotional which can be far worse. The poor child
is terrified of you."
"Ms. Bennett, are you familiar with
the term slander?"
"Of course-"
"And harassment?" He plowed over
her response. "I have a team of very expensive lawyers who would
be happy to explain them to you."
"I have a right-"
"We're leaving." Jazmine
practically dragged her away and did not stop until they reached
outside.
"What're you doing?"
"Trying to save your damn neck."
Jazmine threw up her hands in despair. "What on earth were you
thinking? I thought he was going to strangle you. Zoo, you cannot go
around accusing a man like Jack Hadley of abuse."
"Why the hell not?" But she was
winding down and was appalled at the way she had behaved. "Oh
God!" She leaned against the building weakly. "You're
right. What was I thinking? It's just that he brings out the worst in
me. I saw him and just wanted to vent. Now I have probably made
things worse for the kid." Signaling for the valet, she gave him
her ticket. "Please don't say anything to Zach, he'll hit the
roof."
"I won't," her friend promised.
"But you cannot keep interfering in his life, honey. That's a
very powerful family and you don't want to go around messing with a
man like that."
"You're right of course. Me and my
mouth." She shook her head and took the key fob from the
admiring valet.
*****
"You're still up."
Zach felt the familiar jolt to his senses
as she came into the kitchen. He had been sitting here, nursing a
glass of scotch and brooding about his situation. The more he saw
her, the more he was convinced that the feelings were not going away.
Forcing a smile, he rose and tried not to
stare at the swell of flesh exposed by the clingy material of her
lace nightgown. She had on a robe, but he could still see her flesh.
Her face was scrubbed free of artifice and her long black hair was
brushed back and still wet from her shower. She looked like a damn
teenager.
"How was the show? Zoo went straight
to her room before I could ask her about it."
"It was good." She slid onto the
stool and linked her hands together.
"Would you like a drink?"
"I would like what you're having."
She smiled slightly as he lifted his brows. "I think I can
handle it." She paused. "And I need it."
"Problems?" He went about pouring
the drink and sliding it over to her.
"It's nothing." She took a sip
and put the glass down, a frown touching her brow. "I don't want
to bother you."
"You won't be. What is it?"
"He- he called me just a few minutes
ago." She spread her hands out and staring at them, missed the
ominous expression on Zach's face.
"Your dirtbag of a husband?"
She glanced at him swiftly, surprised and
gratified to see the look on his face.
"Yes."
"What did he want?" He had to
force himself to take a step back. "If you don't want to
discuss-"
"No." She shook her head. "He's
getting married." She hitched out a breath.
"That's why he called? To tell you he
was hooking up with some other woman? That son of a bitch." He
started to reach for her hand and pulled back, wondering if it was
too soon. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and assure her that
nothing or no one would ever hurt her again. "Are you still in
love with him?" he asked abruptly, silently cursing himself for
overplaying his hands. He had told himself that he would stay away
from her. What she needed was time and space. What she did not need
was him breathing down her damn neck. "I'm sorry-"
"I thought I was." She whispered.
"I blamed myself for not seeing who he was from the beginning."
The breath she sucked in felt like inhaling glass. "But I
ignored them. I wanted someone to love me, you see." She shook
her head. "It sounds pathetic, I sound pathetic-"
"No." This time, he reached for
her tensed fingers, enveloping them in his large hands. "Don't
ever let me hear you say that about yourself again. You're beautiful,
kind and compassionate and were too good for that bastard."
Her eyes went wide as she continued to
stare at him and belatedly he realized that he had just revealed what
he had been trying desperately to hide. Slowly, by degrees, he
withdrew. First his hands and then his entire body. "Please
excuse me," he muttered and stumbled to his feet.
He was at the doorway when she called his
name. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes in despair. Steeling
himself to hear the rejection and scorn, he turned around slowly. She
was standing up, tears glittering in her eyes. A groan escaped him,
and it took an enormous amount of self-control not to rush towards
her.
"Please don't cry," he pleaded
hoarsely. "It's tearing me up inside."
"Why?"
"What?" he gave her a puzzled
look.
"Why do you care so much?"
He cleared his throat and was about to give
her a trite response about being a friend, but the words would not
come.
"I don't like to see you hurting."
"Why not?"
Bracing back against the doorframe, he
huffed out a breath. "Please don't make me say it. I should
have-"
"Tell me." She moved towards him,
and he went rigid. Her face was lifted, a single tear sliding down
her satiny cheek. Her body wash enveloped him, pulling him in. Of
their own volition, his hands lifted to clasp her shoulders.
"Jazmine." Her name was like a prayer on his lips and his
body was aching with the need to be with her. "Oh Christ!"
With a tortured groan, he crushed her against him, his mouth covering
hers in a kiss that sent heat spearing through her body.
At first, she remained rigid. And then it
was as if a dam had broken. With a moan, she went on her toes and
wrapped her hands around his neck.
Her compliance, the soft yielding of her
body against his was more than he could bear. He had spent the last
two weeks torturing himself by loving her from a distance and
convincing himself that it would pass, that as soon as she left, he
would get over her. Now, he knew he was just fooling himself.
He should fight the emotions coursing
through his body. He should be man enough to let her go. She was
going through a very rough time, and it would be taking advantage of
her. He could not bear it if she would come to regret being with him.
But oh God, he needed her.
Commonsense and logical thinking had fled
and in their place, was a need so strong, it was threatening to
consume him from the inside out. Sweeping her into his arms, he made
his way up the stairs and straight to his suite without breaking the
kiss. Time for regrets later on. But now, he had to have her, or he
was going to go mad.
*****
He had never been so angry in his life and
the pleasure he had felt as the evening progressed had all but gone.
That infuriating shrew, he raged silently. The nerve of her.
Attacking him like that in front of his date.
Tamping down the surge of lust as he
pictured her, he drank steadily from the glass and wished for a full
glass of scotch. He would confront her. No, he shook his head
mentally. He would never give her the satisfaction of knowing how
much she had gotten to him. He would ignore her and if she approached
him again, he was going to make good on his threats and destroy that
little bar of hers.
Removing Belinda's clinging fingers from
his arm, he excused himself and made his way up the stairs. A few
select people were already there bidding on several items. A Renoir,
a Colby still life depicting a faceless woman in billowing white,
wading through the thick grass that almost wrapped around her and
some sculptures from Jason.
He wanted some pieces for the apartment
building that was being erected on Chancellor Street. It was going to
be the company's most exclusive and pricey living accommodations. So
exclusive that it was going to take some effort to get a lease.
Agreements had started pouring in already, with people vying to be
part of the exclusivity.
The building had been in construction for
almost five years and was almost at the completion stage. It would be
fully furnished, each apartment different and tailormade to the
occupant. No expense had been spared. He had his acquisitions team
scouring the earth for the best of everything. Carpets, lush and
expensive from places in Italy and France. Sevres China, Antique
furnishings, a mix of the old and contemporary and paintings gracing
the silken wallpapers. Not just any paintings, but the very best. It
was the real reason he had attended the show tonight.
He scanned the room with a critical eye,
noting the avid expressions on the faces of the bidders. Each person
there was desperate for a piece of exclusivity, a token to boast
about in their well-heeled circles. He understood that need all too
well; it was the lifeblood of his business. Yet tonight, as he stood
amidst the finery, none of it seemed to matter.
Her face hovered at the edge of his vision,
her fiery accusations still ringing in his ears. He had come for art,
yet all he could think about was the woman who had dared to challenge
him. She had been a beacon of defiance in a room full of
obsequiousness; a stark contrast to the polished veneers surrounding
him.
Ignoring the murmurs of the crowd, he
approached the Renoir, considering the delicate brushstrokes with a
detachment that belied his inner turmoil. Art had always been a
refuge, a place where he could lose himself in beauty and forget the
chaos outside. But tonight, even Renoir's masterful strokes could not
soothe him.
Jackson and Jason were around somewhere,
catering to the crowds. The two men were more than associates. They
were friends and belonged to the same club. He did not need them to
decide on which pieces he wanted.
If it had not been for this desire to pick
something up, he would have gone off to the club for the weekend and
not had the displeasure of having an encounter with Ms. Bennett. The
thought of her brought a scowl to his brow and had him brushing off a
business associate who was looking to him for conversation.
He was not in the mood and damned the woman
for destroying his evening. Sucking in a breath, he wandered over to
a section that was not so crowded with patrons. He knew what he
wanted. Had a vision and an eye for details. The apartment building
had been written up in several magazines and taken a lot of his time.
But he did not mind it one bit.
Strolling over to a lovely
whimsical-looking glass vase, he picked it up and studied the sheer
lines. The glass was so transparent, he could see his fingers through
it. It was a swirl of colors,
ranging from blue to green and with a touch of bronze. It was
breathtaking, he mused.
"I had my eye on it." The
familiar voice had him turning his head. Liam Moses was another
associate and member of his club.
"My darling would love to add it to
her collections."
"I have every respect for the
beautiful Mrs. Moses, but not enough to just hand it over. I have
plans for this particular piece."
"I did say I saw it first," he
pointed out.
"No. You said you had your eye on it.
You should have scooped it up when you had the chance."
"You're a cold son of a bitch,"
Liam murmured amiably. "I believe I will take myself off to find
something else for the love of my life. I am in desperate need for a
trinket, expensive enough and lovely enough that says: 'I am sorry as
hell'"
Jack slid him an amused glance as he
beckoned to the owner of the gallery who came forward eagerly.
"Please put this with the others,"
he ordered before turning back to Liam.
"What did you do?"
Plucking two glasses of champagne from the
tray, he handed one to Jack. "She's pregnant."
"And?"
"When she started an argument about
something that should not have merited one, I told her hormones was
making her behave unreasonable."
"Ouch."
"Yes." Liam sipped the excellent
champagne moodily. "She kicked me out of our bed and then burst
into tears."
Jack smiled cynically. Having never been
married or have any intention of tying himself to a woman for the
rest of his life, he could not relate. "Buy her flowers, I hear
it's the thing to do."
Liam eyed him with jaundiced eyes. "So
speaks a man who has never had a long-term relationship."
"And extremely proud of it." Jack
slapped him on the back. "How about that lovely painting over
there?" he pointed to it. "The artist is fairly new and
shows signs of being a hit."
Liam followed his glance, a smile gleaming.
"It's perfect for my darling."