Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
R eclining in the luxurious backseat of the Maybach with Celeste Rutherford, Reese fielded questions about work, her family and growing up in Houston. She asked Grant Rutherford about his latest clinical research study and chatted about everything from the weather to the bad economy. But if asked later to recall specific details of the conversation, she would have been at a complete loss.
She’d been unable to concentrate on anything since arguing with Michael that morning. She was still reeling with hurt and anger over the way he’d lashed out at her for having a boyfriend. He’d reacted like a scorned lover. Which seemed unreasonable, considering that he and Reese had hated each other’s guts just yesterday. If she hadn’t shown up at his penthouse seeking a truce, they’d still be bitter enemies today. He had no right to be jealous of her relationship with another man.
But he had been jealous, and that realization left her shaken and more conflicted than ever. She had no experience dealing with possessive alphas. It appalled her to admit that a secret part of her was hugely turned on by Michael’s caveman behavior. Turned on and pissed off at the same time.
The trouble started that morning when she’d received a call from a local florist notifying her of a pending delivery. For a fleeting second, she’d foolishly hoped that Michael had sent her flowers because he was thinking about her after the magical day they’d spent together .
But then a few minutes later, Victor had called and dashed her silly hopes.
“I sent you something. Hope you enjoy it.”
A heavy sigh escaped her. “Victor ?— ”
“I know we’re not supposed to be talking, and I’m trying really hard to respect your boundaries. But I miss being with you, and I just want ?— ”
“Where’s all this coming from, Victor?” Reese cut in impatiently.
He seemed taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“We work at the same hospital. We were in the same building, day in and day out, and you showed very little interest in spending time with me. And don’t tell me you were too busy. Your own boss makes it a point to block out time to have lunch with his wife every day, and I can think of several other colleagues who make more time for their partners than you do. Every time I tried to set up a date or even just a damn coffee break, you blew me off. You’ve neglected our relationship for the past six months, Victor. Now that I’ve left town, suddenly you can’t live without me?”
He was silent for a long minute.
“You’re right,” he said finally. “I took you for granted. I didn’t appreciate what I had until you were gone.”
It was the closest to an apology she would likely ever get. But it was too little, too late.
“Thank you for acknowledging my feelings, Victor. But this changes nothing between us. I still need time ?— ”
“Have you met someone else?” he demanded bluntly.
She closed her eyes, weighing her next words very carefully. “There’s a man that I’m…attracted to.”
Victor cursed in Italian under his breath. “I knew this would happen. I fucking knew it!”
Reese licked her dry lips. “I didn’t want to lie to you.”
“How noble of you.” His voice was bitter. “Have you fucked him?”
“No.” She swallowed hard. “We’ve…kissed.”
A long, seething silence followed.
“I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, Reese,” Victor said tightly. “I’ve been invited to participate in that research study I told you about. It’s been more time-consuming than I anticipated, and I’m already feeling stretched thin. I’d really hate to lose you on top of everything else. ”
Guilt pricked the back of her neck. “I don’t want to be a distraction. Focus on what you need to.”
“But that’s just it,” he snapped irritably. “I can’t focus on anything while we’re apart, especially now that I know there’s another man in the picture. Who is he?”
Reese pushed a trembling hand through her hair. “It’s not important, Victor.”
He fell silent, and she could almost hear him thinking. She waited tensely for him to speak again.
“I haven’t forgotten that you’re in Michael Wolf’s hometown. He’s your celebrity free pass, so unless he’s the guy you’re talking about — ” He broke off with a chuckle, grimly amused at the thought of her having a sanctioned one-time hookup with her celebrity crush.
“The odds of you meeting him in a city that size are pretty slim,” he grumbled, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself. He didn’t know, of course, that Michael was a regular fixture at his restaurant, that he made a point of personally greeting his customers every time he was there.
“I don’t know which would be worse,” Victor muttered darkly. “You leaving me for a playboy chef or some broke loser you met at a club.”
Reese squeezed her eyes shut, curling in on herself. Now would be a good time to tell him about her new apprenticeship, before he found out on his own. She should just blurt it out and get it over with. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Not now.
“You better hope I don’t ever meet my celebrity crush,” Victor said in a surly voice.
Reese sighed. “You know what ?— ”
“Can you just promise me one thing? Promise me you won’t give up on us.”
“Victor — ”
“Things will be different when you get back home. I’ll make time for you. For us. I’ll prove to you how much you mean to me. And maybe next summer we can go to Italy like you’ve always wanted.”
Reese’s throat pinched. “Victor, I ?— ”
The doorbell rang.
Victor heard it. “Go answer the door. I’ll stay on the phone.”
When Reese opened the long box and saw two dozen red roses nestled inside, she remembered that Victor had sent her the same arrangement the day after their first date, and she couldn’t help smiling a little.
And then Michael had arrived—and all hell broke loose.
If Reese were being honest with herself, she would admit that Michael wasn’t entirely wrong for being mad at her. The truth was that she’d been giving him mixed signals ever since they met. First she’d asked him to drive her home with the intent of seducing him. Then she’d spent an entire day with him, laughing and bonding, basking in his company.
From his perspective, she was acting like a tease, saying one thing and doing another. It wasn’t fair to him, and all things considered, it probably wasn’t fair to Victor.
So it had to stop, Reese vowed.
No matter how powerful the attraction between her and Michael, she had to resist temptation and keep their relationship strictly platonic. It was the only way she’d get through the next two months with her integrity—and sanity—intact.
But when she glanced up and caught Michael’s dark gaze in the rearview mirror, instant heat swamped her body.
Swallowing hard, she jerked her eyes away and smiled brightly at his mother.
No one ever said resisting temptation was easy.
Thirty minutes later, Reese found herself leaning toward the window as the car glided down a winding country road flanked by huge magnolia trees. She stared, riveted by the sight of a sprawling redbrick house with tall picture windows overlooking riotously blooming flowerbeds.
Michael turned into the long driveway, passing an acre of scrupulously manicured lawn and a small lake at the center before he came to a stop behind a silver Buick.
“Wow.” The single word escaped Reese in a hushed whisper.
Beside her, Celeste Rutherford beamed. “Amazing, isn’t it? Michael and his brother bought this house for their father several years ago. The first time I came here, I was simply blown away. Wait until you see the backyard. The garden will leave you breathless.”
They climbed out of the car, and while Michael and Grant retrieved the luggage from the trunk, the two women started toward the house. They were met at the front door by a middle-aged woman who introduced herself to Reese as Frizell Randolph, Sterling’s personal chef.
“Where’s Sterling?” Celeste asked the woman as they entered the house.
“He’s in the backyard with Ms. Dubois. Last I checked, they were discussing seating arrangements for the reception dinner. Samara just left to pick up the twins from daycare. She promised to hurry back as soon as she can, along with Marcus.”
Reese looked around in awe, taking in the double-height foyer, butterfly staircases and sparkling chandeliers. Scattered area rugs adorned glossy hardwood floors, and fresh flowers were arranged in expensive vases on gleaming wood tables.
“Let me show you the backyard while Michael and Grant carry the bags upstairs,” Celeste said, draping an arm around Reese’s shoulders.
As they started across the foyer, Grant could be overheard grumbling to Michael, “I don’t know why your mother insisted on packing so much clothes. We’re only staying for two weeks.”
Michael chuckled. “Or so you think.”
Celeste ushered Reese through the house to a set of double French doors that opened onto an enormous veranda. As they stepped outside and crossed to the wraparound railing, Reese saw that Celeste had not exaggerated about the backyard. It was huge and nothing short of breathtaking.
Before she could take it all in, her attention was diverted by a burst of loud, angry voices. Celeste muttered under her breath as a man and a woman suddenly emerged from a dense thicket of trees and began marching toward the house.
Reese stared in incredulous disbelief. What shocked her wasn’t the sight of two grown adults squabbling like children on a playground. Rather, it was the sight of the tall dark-skinned man who bore such a striking resemblance to Michael, she wondered if she’d unwittingly stumbled into a time warp twenty years into the future.
Her gaze moved to the woman next. She was tall, curvaceous and stunningly beautiful—an exquisite cross between Iman and Naomi Campbell. Dressed in a stylish white pantsuit and stiletto heels, she strode down the flagstone walkway with the icy hauteur of a seasoned runway model.
As Reese stared at the woman, recognition dawned. Her eyes widened. “Wait a minute. Is that?—”
“Asha Dubois,” Celeste finished sourly. “ Yes, it is.”
Judging by her tone and the grim set of her mouth, it was obvious that Celeste was no fan of Asha Dubois, a world-renowned fashion designer who was in town to celebrate the grand opening of her Lenox Square boutique—an event that was garnering as much buzz on local radio stations as Michael’s return home the week before.
In her youth, Asha had been a supermodel whose exotic beauty graced countless magazine covers. After retiring from the runway, she’d gone on to successfully launch her own clothing empire, becoming one of the first African-American designers to conquer the cutthroat world of haute couture.
Reese, whose own closet was filled with House of Dubois fashions, couldn’t help feeling a little star-struck at the prospect of meeting Asha Dubois. Though barely fifty, the woman was already a living legend.
“My son Marcus is married to her daughter,” Celeste volunteered.
“Really?” Reese silently marveled at the odds of her meeting a celebrity chef, a prominent neurosurgeon and a famous fashion designer in less than a week. And—astonishingly—they were all in the same extended family.
As Sterling Wolf and Asha Dubois drew nearer to the house, Reese couldn’t help noticing what a striking pair they made. But based on the way they were quarreling with each other, it was abundantly clear there was no love lost between them.
“…I don’t even know why I bothered to consult with you,” Asha was venting. Even in her anger, her voice was cool and cultured. “You don’t know the first thing about hosting a classy affair. My God, if it were up to you, we would have served pork ribs and beans at our children’s wedding reception!”
“And what the hell’s wrong with that?” Sterling fired back. “In case you haven’t noticed, woman, we’re in the South. And we Southerners happen to enjoy our barbecue!”
Asha shuddered. “Not at a wedding.”
“ Even at a wedding!” He snorted derisively. “Hell, if you weren’t such a stuck-up witch?—”
Asha glared at him. “Who’re you calling a witch, you old?—”
Celeste cleared her throat loudly, and the two combatants looked around in surprise. When they saw Celeste and Reese watching them from the railing, their expressions turned sheepish .
“We have company,” Celeste announced sweetly.
“So I see.” Sterling Wolf stepped onto the veranda, his dark eyes homing in on Reese. “Well, hello there. And who might you be?”
Reese smiled, suddenly nervous about coming face to face with Michael’s father. He cut an imposing figure with his neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper hair, keenly intelligent gaze and tall, robust build.
Seeing that Reese was momentarily tongue-tied, Celeste came to her rescue. “Sterling, this is Reese St. James, Michael’s new apprentice.”
Sterling’s heavy brows shot up, and a wide grin swept across his ruggedly handsome face. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss St. James,” he said, his large, callused hand enveloping hers in a firm handshake. “Welcome to Atlanta.”
Reese smiled shyly. “Thank you, Mr. Wolf. You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you kindly. I’ve learned to appreciate it.” His eyes twinkled, giving her a glimpse of the devilish charm that obviously flowed in the Wolf gene pool.
“Reese is a doctor,” Celeste told him proudly.
“So I’ve heard.” Sterling smiled, leaving Reese to wonder what else he knew about her. “Will you be joining us for dinner this evening?”
Before Reese could respond, an amused voice drawled, “Doesn’t waste any time, does he?”
Both Sterling and Celeste turned to glare at Asha, who sat at a white wrought-iron table idly sipping from a glass of wine that had materialized out of nowhere. Her long, shapely legs were crossed, and her black hair was slicked back into an elegant chignon that accentuated her high cheekbones, sultry dark eyes and lush, sensual mouth.
“Asha,” Celeste murmured, forcing a smile that looked as if she had a lip full of Novocain. “You’re looking well.”
Asha inclined her head. “ Merci .” She didn’t return the compliment—deliberately, Reese suspected.
Before Celeste could even register the slight, Asha’s eyes traveled to Reese’s face, giving her a swift, evaluative once-over. “You have excellent bone structure. Please tell me you’ve done some modeling before.”
“No, ma’am. I haven’t.” Reese smiled, not immune to receiving such a compliment from the legendary fashion mogul.
Asha shook her head. “What a shame. ”
“Maybe.” Reese shrugged. “But even if I wanted to model, I’m too old to do anything about it now.”
Asha gave a low, indulgent laugh. “A word of advice, darling. Never admit to being too old for anything. Isn’t that right, Celeste?”
Celeste bristled, her face reddening at the veiled insult.
Sterling leveled a narrow look at Asha. “Woman, don’t you have places to go? People to see?”
“Not at the moment,” she said blandly. “Besides, after running around with Samara all morning, I need a break from this suffocating heat. I don’t know how you people can stand it.”
“No one told you to schedule your grand opening at the height of summer,” Celeste snidely pointed out.
“True enough.” Asha took a languid sip of wine. “And no one told you to move to the frozen tundra of Minnesota. But I suppose your personality is better suited to frigid weather.”
Celeste sputtered with indignation. “How dare?—”
Sterling laid a gentle, restraining hand upon her arm. “We have company, remember?”
She darted a glance at Reese then clamped her jaw shut, seething with suppressed fury as she glared at Asha.
Sterling gave Reese a conciliatory smile. “You have to excuse us old folks. We get cranky when we haven’t had our nap.”
“Speak for yourself.” Asha sipped more wine, her gaze returning to Reese. “Have you been invited to my reception on Wednesday?”
“Um, no, I?—”
“Then consider this your invitation.” Asha looked at Sterling. “You don’t mind, do you? When Michael told me you’d agreed to let me use your home, he gave me free rein to invite as many people as I wanted.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Sterling smiled tightly at Reese. “I would have invited you myself if she hadn’t beat me to it.”
“Who beat you to what?”
Four pairs of eyes swung around to find Michael standing at the entrance to the veranda. He took one look at his parents’ strained faces, then Asha’s smug expression, and slowly shook his head.
“Never mind,” he muttered. “I don’t want to know.”
Reese couldn’t help noticing the way he’d deliberately avoided looking at her. Fine , she thought crossly. If he wants to pretend I’m invisible, two can play that game!
“Hello, Michael,” Asha murmured. “I was just beginning to wonder if you’d ever show up.”
“Asha.” Michael bent to kiss her upturned cheek. “It’s good to see you again. Ready for next Wednesday?”
“I’m always ready.” She smiled. “Darling, I hope you’ll forgive me for scheduling my grand opening on the same day as your show’s season premiere. I didn’t realize the dates coincided until it was too late. You know the last thing I want to do is steal your spotlight.”
“Like hell,” Celeste muttered under her breath.
Ignoring his mother, Michael said smoothly, “Don’t worry about it, Asha. We always tape the show in the morning, so there won’t be a conflict with your reception that evening. And the studio usually throws a small party to celebrate the season premiere, so either way, I’m gonna have a good time that night.”
“Wonderful.” Asha beamed with pleasure. “If you have some time, I thought we could go over the reception menu and seating arrangements, maybe take another tour of the garden to finalize the layout.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed. “We can meet now, if you’d like.”
“Absolutely.” Asha uncrossed her legs and glided to her feet with a sensual, feline grace that would make any man drool.
“I’m dying to see how your staff will decorate the garden,” Asha told Michael. “They did such a fabulous job for Marcus and Samara’s wedding. It’s hard to imagine them topping themselves.”
Michael flashed a grin. “Then you’re in for a real treat. I met with them on Saturday, and I think you’ll be very pleased with what they have in mind.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Asha said with a lazy smile.
Reese silently berated herself for feeling a sharp stab of jealousy when Asha linked her arm through Michael’s.
“Michael,” Celeste said tightly, “where’s Grant?”
“He had to make a few phone calls. Sorry—I meant to tell you when I first came out.”
“That’s okay. You were obviously distracted.” Shooting one last withering look at Asha, Celeste muttered an excuse about having a headache and stalked back into the house .
Michael cocked a brow at his father. “Did I miss something?”
Chuckling dryly, Sterling waved him off. “Go on with Asha. Reese and I are gonna sit out here, sip lemonade and get better acquainted. I hope that’s okay with you, Reese?”
She gave him her sunniest smile. “I’d like that very much.”
Michael looked from one to the other, eyes narrowed. “We won’t be long,” he said curtly, and strode off with Asha.