Metsy Hingle – What The Millionaire Wants...: What the Millionaire Wants... / Spencer's Forbidden Passion (страница 11)

“Yeah.”

Still hunkered down beside the boys, Jack lowered his voice and said, “You know, I could have sworn I saw one of Santa’s elves hiding up in one of those trees over there.”

Both boys’ eyes grew wide as they looked toward the trees. “Really?”

Jack nodded. “I figure they must be here, checking out the boys and girls and reporting to Santa which ones are extra good. You boys might want to walk with your mom so they can tell Santa how good you two are.”

“Come on, Mom. You’d better hold our hands and take it slow.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t run. You might trip or something,” the other twin added.

“Thanks,” the woman mouthed as she and her sons headed in the direction of the trees with the elves.

“That was really sweet of you. I’m sure their mother was very grateful,” Laura told him, touched by his actions.

“Hey, I was telling the truth. I think I did see an elf in those trees,” he said, smiling once again.

“Which tree?”

“That one right over there,” he said and, grabbing her by the hand, he brought her several yards back from the road and pointed up to a huge oak. “That one. I saw a pair of little green eyes peeking out of those branches.”

Laura peered up at the branches in question. “I don’t see anything,” she told him and when she turned to look at him, the smile dissolved on her lips. He was still holding her hand and he was watching her with an intensity, with a longing, that stole her breath.

She didn’t know how it happened. She didn’t know if he took another step toward her or if she moved toward him. Then his mouth was on hers. The kiss was gentle, slow, just a simple brushing of lips against lips. Then she felt the tip of his tongue. Sighing, she opened her mouth to him. Heat exploded inside her and just when her senses hit overload, he was easing back, ending the kiss. Still dazed and wondering why he had stopped, she heard the voices. A family was approaching on the path near them.

“I didn’t think you would want an audience,” he said simply.

He was right. She wouldn’t and it embarrassed her that she had been so engrossed in the kiss that she hadn’t heard them. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. For a moment there, I considered not stopping,” he told her as he brushed his thumb along her jaw.

Confused and shaken by his effect on her, Laura stepped back and in doing so pulled her hand free. She walked back over to the carousel to take another look at it before leaving.

Jack followed and stopped beside her. “So tell me about the carousel.”

“What do you want to know?”

“About the history of it. How long it’s been here. How old you were the first time you came to see it.”

Laura filled him in on the history, or as much of it as she knew. She told him how it had been her grandfather who had first brought her to see it. “I was four at the time,” she told him. “My mom was married to Jeffrey Baxter, the soap star, then, and we were living in California. She had just had Chloe and was finding a four-year-old and a newborn a lot to handle. So she sent me down here to visit my grandfather. I was feeling a little homesick, so he took me to see the Christmas lights in the oaks to distract me. And the minute I saw the carousel, I fell in love with it.”

“Which one was your horse?” he asked.

Laura looked over at him, surprised at his perceptiveness. “The palomino over there, with the red saddle,” she said, pointing out the horse she had always ridden. “I named him Pegasus.”

“The flying horse, huh?” he remarked because it was one of the horses crafted with its legs in flight.

“Yes,” she said and laughed at herself. “I really did think he could fly. In fact, I had myself convinced that the carousel was enchanted and that when everyone left for the night all the horses and animals would come to life.”

“Ever test your theory?”

“Yes,” she admitted proudly and smiled at the memory. “When I was six, I snuck away from my grandfather just before closing time and went and hid in the carousel house.”

“What happened?”

“None of the carousel animals came to life, but everyone else did. My grandfather and the security guards and staff were looking for me. My grandfather thought I’d been kidnapped and everyone was upset. I got in a lot of trouble with my granddad and wasn’t allowed to have any desserts or treats for an entire week after that.”

He let out a whistle. “No desserts for a week? That must have been really tough,” he said, but from the grin on his face, it was clear he didn’t think it had been tough at all.

“Trust me, it was torture,” she assured him with a laugh. “I’d have sooner given up my favorite doll than give up dessert for a week.”

“Have a sweet tooth, do you?” he teased.

“I was six,” she pointed out. Then recalling how his appearance had caused her to hit her candy stash, she amended her answer by saying, “I’ve gotten better.” But the memory of why she’d hit the candy stash in the first place brought reality crashing back. The man she had been sharing such tender moments with was Jackson Hawke. Her enemy. The man who was trying to foreclose on her hotel. The man with whom she’d made the crazy bet and agreed to sleep with if she lost. “It’s getting late. I’d better see about getting a taxi and heading home.”

“What about the rest of the exhibit?” he asked.

“I think we’ve seen everything.”

“What about that new one—that Cajun story one.”

“The Cajun Night Before Christmas. It’s an animated children’s story by a local author and artist. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be interested,” she said honestly. In fact, she wouldn’t have thought he’d be interested in any of the exhibits, but he’d seemed to genuinely enjoy himself. And if she were honest, she had enjoyed sharing them with him.

“I wouldn’t have thought I’d be interested, either, but I am.”

The man confused her. He was a mass of contradictions. Just when she had him pegged as a rich and arrogant man who would wager a fifteen-million-dollar note against a night with her in his bed, he spendt an evening looking at Christmas lights with her and listening to stories about her childhood. On the one hand, she despised the businessman who threatened to take away a part of her heritage. On the other hand, she liked the kind man who had been so gentle with the little boys and considerate of their mother. She liked the man who had laughed with her, the man who had made her first visit to the carousel since her grandfather’s death a happy one.

“Laura?”

The sound of him calling her by her first name snapped her out of her reverie. “Yes?”

“You zoned out there for a minute. Either that or I shocked you into silence. Which is it?”

“Both,” she admitted.

“So what do you say? Do you want to see that other exhibit with me?”

Laura hesitated. Spending more time with this man wasn’t a good idea, she told herself. She was beginning to like him, feel drawn to him. The last thing she could afford was to lose her focus when the Contessa was at stake. “I think I’ll pass. But you go on ahead.”

“Maybe another time, then,” he said. “I’ll head back to the hotel.”

But when the taxi arrived, Jack insisted on sharing it with her. He also insisted the driver take her home first. Once they reached her place and she’d tucked her share of the cab fare into his hand, she said, “Good night.”

He touched her arm. “Laura?”

She paused, turned to face him. “Yes?”

“Thanks for tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And in the morning, he would be her enemy again, she reminded herself as she quickly exited the taxi and raced up the steps to her house.

Five

Seated in the dining room of the Contessa Hotel, Jack kept his eyes trained on the doorway and awaited the arrival of Chloe Baxter. Fitzpatrick had managed to locate Laura’s half sister—in New Orleans, where she had been since Thanksgiving weekend. Funny how Laura had failed to mention the fact that her sister was visiting. But then, she had studiously avoided him since that night they’d gone to see the Christmas lights in the park. On those occasions when their paths had crossed, she had been all business. It was as though the woman he had laughed with and kissed in the park had never even existed.

Only he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that woman. It was difficult for him to look at her and not remember how sweet she had tasted, how good she had felt in his arms. Even more difficult was wondering if his stepbrother was the personal business she’d left town for two days ago. Jack closed his fist around the glass of Scotch as he considered that possibility. According to the detective, there had been no record of Peterson booking a flight in or out of New Orleans last weekend. But knowing Peterson’s tastes and ability to manipulate, he could just as easily have gotten someone to fly him in on a private plane. Maybe one of his rich college buddies or someone in the moneyed crowd his father was so tight with. Or maybe even one of the corporate idiots that Peterson had conned into backing his political run.

Or maybe he’d been wrong and Peterson had never been in town after all. Had Laura gone to see him? It certainly would explain her sudden leave on personal business. According to Fitzpatrick Investigations, she had booked a flight to San Francisco with a stop in L.A., and there were no hotel reservations anywhere in her name. But then, why would she need a hotel room if she was sleeping with his stepbrother?