Husband from 9 to 5 Page 10

  “I was only...”

  “Being kind?” Molly asked sarcastically. “Forget that. Did it ever occur to you that I would be mortally embarrassed when the truth came out?”

  Jack winced. “It did,” he admitted ruefully. “But you were so vulnerable....”

  “Vulnerable,” she all but spat, rising from her seat to pace. “From my vantage point, I was six times more vulnerable living in a house with a man I hardly know.”

  Jack wasn’t quite sure why, but her attitude got his hackles up. He’d done what he’d thought was best for her. He’d guarded her every step of the way. She’d insisted they were married; he’d tried to tell her they weren’t. She’d kissed his neck. He’d gently turned her away. All right, maybe he did jump over the couch, but he was gentle in the way he changed the subject and the mood. She was the one who kept wanting to sleep in the same bed. He was the one who kept his cool and his common sense. Yet she was acting as if this were all his fault.

  “I certainly never would have guessed that you feel you don’t know me. From my vantage point,” he said, pointing at his chest. “I got the impression you thought you knew me pretty damned well.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. You let me humiliate myself.”

  “Ah, Molly,” Jack groaned. “You didn’t humiliate yourself. You had hit your head. You were confused. And you were also among friends.”

  Furious, she whirled on him. “Stop calling yourself my friend. You spent the past four years insulating yourself from even having a private conversation with me. Never mind being alone with me—except in this office, with the glass door, so no one would ever be able to wonder about what you were doing in here.”

  Jack frowned. Had he done that? He didn’t think so.

  “So don’t call yourself my friend. You’re not my friend.”

  “Molly, I think you’ve got everything twisted here....”

  “I don’t have things twisted. I have my full capacity now. I remember the past, I’m aware of what’s happening in the present, and I can clearly see my future.” She leaned across her desk. “It doesn’t include you,” she emphatically stated.

  Fissions of anger danced across Jack’s flesh. Facts and opinions warred in his brain. Damn her. Not only had he taken care of her when she needed care, but he’d endured hours—no, days—of unsatisfied arousal, protecting her even from himself. Now she was throwing it all back in his face.

  Remembering the three days of unsatisfied arousal, the feeling of her smooth hands on him, her soft lips on the back of his neck and her rounded bottom curled into him, Jack ground his teeth. It didn’t help to see that she was all decked out in a pale blue suit that didn’t merely bring out the color of her blond hair and flawless complexion, it also seemed to highlight her nearly perfect figure. He felt the odd sensation that she wasn’t merely throwing his friendship back at him, she was taunting him with what he couldn’t have.

  Holding back his anger, he became aware of every breath that was going into and coming out of his lungs. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. Not only was he piqued, but he was thinking of Molly in sexual terms again.

  Knowing he was getting in over his head and that they’d do better to continue this conversation when both of them were a little less emotional, he drew a long breath, spun around and walked out of her office.

  She followed him into his.

  Because he was striding to his desk with his back to her, he didn’t realize she was behind him until she slammed the door. He turned around and saw her leaning across his desk, eyes blazing with fury.

  “I see you’re not done.”

  “You’re not going to walk away from me. You’re not going to ignore me. I’m going to have my say and you’re going to listen.”

  He got the uneasy feeling that Molly believed he’d deliberately ignored her over the past four years, when nothing could have been farther from the truth. Yes, she was the one person in his department with whom he didn’t have a close, personal relationship, but that wasn’t because he didn’t like her. It was because...because... Well, actually, he couldn’t say, except to guess that the opportunity to get personal, friendly, with her simply hadn’t arisen. Of course, he hadn’t really tried to make an opportunity, either. So, maybe she had a point.

  “I’m sorry, Molly. Go ahead.”

  She didn’t seem to know how to handle his calm response. Or maybe she realized being angry wasn’t solving anything. Jack watched as she opened her mouth several times to speak, then shut it again, until eventually she appeared to talk herself out of her outrage.

  “I just want to make one thing perfectly clear with you,” she said, striding to his door and catching the door handle. “The next time I’m sick, or confused, or even in trouble, don’t try to be my friend.”

  He understood her anger. He understood her sense of embarrassment, maybe even humiliation. But he’d taken care of her, helped her when she needed help. He didn’t deserve her criticism, and he certainly didn’t deserve to be punished by being locked out of her life.

  He also wasn’t allowing her to walk out of this room with that attitude. She was an underling. He was her boss. No matter what happened between them personally, he wasn’t letting her think she had a reason to fear him—or even to be angry with him.

  She would have opened the door, but Jack placed his hand on hers, preventing it. “You know I was helping you.”

  “Really? It seems to me that what you did only made things worse.”

  He hissed his breath between his teeth. “Damn you.” She wouldn’t give an inch. “Can’t you give me a break?”

  “What’s the matter?” Molly asked. “Does it offend you that after four years of being everyone’s friend, that someone’s finally rejecting you?”

  Her statement was a revelation. They hadn’t been friends in the past four years. She’d obviously wanted to be. She also thought he’d been ignoring her deliberately. Worse, she’d embarrassed herself when her fantasies were revealed. Now she was evening the scales.

  “You’re not rejecting me for the reasons you think you’re rejecting me,” Jack said objectively, composed now that he had begun to sort out what was really going on. “You’re rejecting me because you think I rejected you first.”

  She laughed. “Not hardly.”

  “You’re telling me, then, that your illusion of being married to me wasn’t based on fantasies you’d created because you had a crush on me?”

  “I might have had a crush on you, but that’s over and done now that I know the kind of person you really are.”

  Jack snorted a laugh. “But you really don’t know me.”

  “Oh, yes I do,” Molly contradicted.

  “If you really knew me, we wouldn’t be having this discussion right now, because you wouldn’t be angry with me. You’d know I let you believe what you wanted to believe because I thought it was best for you.”

  “Or best for you,” she countered.

  “For what?” he asked silkily. “Since you’re so sure I don’t like you, have no interest in you, then what purpose would it serve for me to keep you at my house?”

  She angled her chin. “I don’t know.”

  “But you have a guess,” he said, because he knew she was feeding herself double-talk. On the one hand, it served her purposes to remind him that he’d ignored her for four years. On the other, it vindicated her to believe he felt something for her and that’s why he’d kept her at his home.

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Molly, don’t lie to yourself,” he said, and with one quick jolt, he had her away from the door and flush up against his chest. He looked into her eyes until he saw her register the realization that he was going to kiss her. Then he bent his head, pressed his lips to hers and kissed her the way he’d wanted to all those times she’d tortured him.

  Chapter Ten

  Molly knew that she kissed him passionately several times during her three days of believing she was mar
ried to him. It humiliated her to recall it, so she pushed those memories to the far corners of her brain. As Jack yanked her against him and plundered her mouth, she didn’t even think of them now. She couldn’t. All she could think about was the feeling and taste and scent of him. Her knees had long since converted to rubber. Her hands itched with the greedy need to touch him. Her body longed to arch against his.

  She’d never felt passion like this—explosive, overwhelming. Kissing him was better than her best fantasies. Even though he was kissing her to make a point, not because he wanted to, their chemistry was potent enough to melt her bones, stop her heart and make her forget everything but the man she clung to....

  Oh, no! Not again! The last thing she wanted to be doing was forgetting things!

  Awestruck by the power of their kiss, Molly jerked herself away and stormed out of his office.

  Jack wiped her lipstick from his month, using the thirty-second cooling-off period he knew she needed. Then he barreled after her.

  From his peripheral vision, he thought he saw Sandy giving him a completely puzzled frown, but he decided he had bigger fish to fry and kept right on walking.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said the second he closed the door behind himself.

  Shaken, confused, Molly only stared at him as she fell to the seat behind her desk.

  “That was wrong, but I had a point to make,” Jack insisted gently. “That charade wasn’t my idea, Molly. I’m not even sure it was yours.” He spread his hands helplessly. “The brain is a funny thing. Who knows why you thought the things you thought?”

  Oh, she knew. Molly knew she knew. Because she was feeling all those old feelings right now; only, this time they were multiplied by about seven. Juxtaposed with the real knowledge that he was a terrific kisser, that his body felt like steel against hers; and knowing that he could be commanding when the need arose, all her fantasies hitched. If there was a ladder of desire, she was standing at the top.

  And through it all—the three days of taking care of her, her accusations, even today’s tantrum—he’d remained a gentleman... unless you counted that kiss. Which she didn’t. He’d used that kiss to remind her that she was the one who was attracted to him—and she’d helped him prove his point by responding. If the situation would have been reversed, he could have kissed her until hell froze over, and she wouldn’t have responded. Better yet, she would have pushed him away. But she hadn’t done either.

  She’d proved his point.

  “I’m sorry, too.” she whispered, wishing he’d leave. She needed to think. She very much needed to think. It appeared that she genuinely was the offender here, not Jack. And if that was the case she was in trouble again.

  “Good,” Jack softly affirmed. “Things can go back to normal.”

  Fat chance, she thought, but she nodded anyway in the hope of getting rid of him.

  He quietly left the room.

  Molly leaned back in her seat. Damn it! This wasn’t working out anything like it was supposed to. According to her parents, the embarrassment of her amnesia had given her the impetus to fall out of love with him. They told her to take her embarrassment and transform it into anger, and not only would she have the reason, but she’d have the emotional push to get beyond this ugly episode and maybe even come out on top.

  But the anger she’d clung to was nothing but a facade, because she wasn’t really mad at him. She couldn’t be. He hadn’t done anything wrong. She was the culprit. In a matter of minutes Jack had seen through her outrage and used it against her to crumble her resistance. Now, she was not only head over heels in love again, but there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

  “Molly?”

  Molly looked up to see Mike the mailman standing in her doorway. A tall, handsome man with green eyes and dark hair, Mike was a staple at Barrington. Everybody knew him. Everybody liked him. “Julie and Sandy aren’t at their desks and I have a package that needs to be signed for.”

  “Oh,” Molly said, knowing her cheeks were flushed, her lipstick was gone and her hair had probably been ruffled to complete messiness. “I’ll sign for it.”

  It took her a minute to find a pen. The whole time she searched, her hand shook.

  “Are you okay?”

  She glanced up, smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said sincerely, knowing that he genuinely cared.

  “You’re pale,” Mike commented. “Yon sure you don’t want me to get you a glass of water or something?”

  “I’m sure,” Molly said, handing him the signed slip, and more or less signaling by her actions and her words that he could go now.

  He wouldn’t leave. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I know that the full-blown details of what happened to you a couple of weeks ago aren’t common knowledge around the company, but because I go everywhere in the building, I sometimes hear things that don’t make it to the watercooler.”

  Molly’s face flushed.

  “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. In fact, everybody who knows you thought you were Jack’s wife and spent three days at his house is sort of proud of you. Yon came out of that situation much happier, much more confident,” He looked her right in the eye. “You don’t want to lose that edge, Molly.”

  What edge? For God’s sake, she couldn’t spend ten minutes with Jack Cavanaugh without melting into a puddle at his feet. If Mike—and everybody who knew about her yescapades—thought she had been happier and much more confident after she returned from her bout with amnesia, that was only because she was determined not to look like a scorned lover or a damned fool.

  In a sense she supposed that was an edge of sorts.

  And it also wasn’t a trumped-up motivator.

  Avoiding looking like a scorned lover or a damned fool was what she wanted more than anything else right now.

  If that was an edge—and basically it was the only thing she had—then she’d take it.

  She drew a long breath. “No, you’re right. I don’t want to lose that edge.”

  “Good for you,” Mike said, gave her a cocky salute and left her office.

  Molly shakily sat back again, wondering what the hell was happening to her. Not only did she seem to have accidentally won the respect and admiration of her peers, but she’d yelled at her boss. In her wildest dreams she never would have even thought to yell at her boss, any boss. Yelling at good, kind, wholesome Jack Cavanaugh was almost sacrilegious. If she hadn’t been so damned embarrassed, she probably wouldn’t have been so bent on making Jack see her crush on him was gone.

  And she also wouldn’t have taunted him into kissing her.

  Which meant she wouldn’t be right back where she started.

  Hopelessly in love and unable to deny it.

  Especially not to Jack. She wouldn’t blame him if he asked for her resignation.

  Ten minutes later, Jack cautiously poked his head into her office. “We’re having a staff meeting at one o’clock. It will only be an hour because I’m dictating to Sandy at two. Please have a short, concise summary of your activities to present.”

  Still shaken, Molly only nodded.

  Jack stepped into her office and closed the door. “Unless you think we should hold off for another day or two.” He paused, and raked his fingers through his hair, as if he were completely frustrated and miserable. “I know you probably hate me now and that’s okay....”

  Hate him? How could he possibly think she hated him? If anything, he should hate her.

  Completely baffled, Molly simply gawked at him.

  Employing vintage Jack Cavanaugh charm, he smiled engagingly. “I mean, it’s not okay for you to hate me. It’s understandable.” He said the last through his cute little grin. Then he sobered and added seriously, contritely, “I’m going to apologize one more time. Kissing you was a stupid, reckless way to make a point. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

  Molly continued to stare at the door after he was gone. Two things were very clear. First, he was so honorable, it humbled h
er. And second, though he might not be too happy with himself for kissing her, the fact that he kept coming in to check on her lifted her spirits. This was ten times more attention than she’d ever gotten from him in the past. And though it wasn’t exactly the kind of attention she wanted, it was a starting point.

  Maybe, just maybe, their three days weren’t wasted after all.

  Twenty minutes after five, when most of the regular staff was gone and Molly was about to pack it in herself for the day, Jack strolled into her office. This time he took a seat in front of her desk after he closed the door.

  “Still okay?”

  “Of course I’m okay,” she said, but she smiled. If she was going to push him into admitting their three days had changed his feelings for her, then she was going to do it immediately. Now that she had him talking to her, she wasn’t waiting another four years for him to confess that he liked her. “But I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable about the fact that you’re suddenly so interested in my mood.”

  “I feel responsible for yon now because in a sense I was responsible for your accident,” Jack replied without hesitation. “You didn’t even want to go to Mahoney’s that night. I talked you into it. I took you out to that dance floor. If it hadn’t been for me, you never would have been hurt that night.”

  With every word he said, Molly’s hope deflated. It wasn’t emotion, but responsibility that had him treating her differently. Though it was better to discover that now, rather than three years from now, it definitely wasn’t what she wanted to hear. His reasoning, though logical and considerate, stabbed her heart with unwanted reality. “Which is why you took me to your home in the first place,” she said quietly. “And why you kept checking in on me all day.”

  She drew a long breath to stop the torrent of tears that threatened, remembered what Mike said about having an edge—or. more accurately, remembered that as long as everybody thought she no longer had a crush on Jack Cavanaugh, she didn’t look like a damned fool or a scorned lover. And she knew what she had to do.