is?” Allison checked her calendar, but no name was jotted in the current time slot. “I don’t have any appointments scheduled this morning. Who is it?”
Leah rolled her eyes and pretended to fan herself with one hand. Beneath her blond hair, her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.
“He wouldn’t give me his name.”
“Why not?”
“He said he wanted to surprise you.”
Curiouser and curiouser. “What does he look like?” She stood, flipping the page of her calendar to verify that she hadn’t inadvertently noted an appointment on the wrong day.
“He’s tall, over six feet, great body, black hair, brown eyes,” Leah recited. “And he’s sexy as sin.”
Allison’s world stood still. It can’t be him. It just couldn’t be true that Jorge Perez was in the outer office expecting to see her. Not today, of all days.
“Allison? Should I show him in?”
Before Allison could think of a reason to say no, the deep, molasses-smooth male voice that she’d been hearing in her dreams for the past four weeks, answered for her.
“No need, I’ll show myself in.”
Jorge appeared in the doorway just behind Leah. Allison would have groaned aloud if she’d been capable of making any noise at all. She was so stunned to see him, however, that all she could do was stare, speechless, held immobile by his intense gaze.
She was barely aware that Leah quickly excused herself, so focused was she on Jorge. He looked away, stepping aside to allow Leah to exit and flashing the charming smile that transformed his face from remote to irresistible. Allison’s heart clenched, the sheer, helpless pleasure of seeing him again made painful by the knowledge that she’d bolted from his bed and hotel room without saying goodbye. It was really not a good excuse that she was totally unschooled in the proper etiquette of handling the morning after great sex and that she’d simply panicked. He had every right to be annoyed with her.
In the few short moments that his attention was diverted by Leah, she indulged herself by openly staring, absorbing all the small details about him. He was just as devastating in a dark-gray tailored suit, white shirt and tie as he had been in formal evening clothes at the fund-raiser. His shoulders were just as broad; his skin equally tanned against the white of his shirt collar; and his black hair shone with the sheen of a raven’s wing under the office lighting.
He closed the door and turned to face her. Allison gathered her dignity around her like a cloak and faced him with what she hoped was calm.
Jorge thought he’d be elated to see Allison, but the surge of fierce emotion that he felt at first sight of her was quickly replaced by a wave of anger just as powerful.
“Hello, Allison.”
“Hello, Jorge.”
“You’re looking well.” Better than well, he thought, temper rising. She was damn near glowing. It was obvious that she hadn’t been spending sleepless nights wondering where he was. Unlike him, wondering about her. And unlike him, she was too damn cool about seeing him after four long weeks.
“Thank you,” she answered gravely. “So are you.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped away from the door, looking around to survey the room. “Nice office.”
“Thank you,” she said again. “What are you doing here, Jorge?”
She sounded genuinely bewildered. He didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered. He raised a brow. “I only recently learned where you worked, and since I had an appointment in the neighborhood, decided to drop by and say hello.”
“Oh.” She lifted a hand in unconscious appeal, then dropped her hand to her side. “I…”
He caught a glimpse of small white teeth as she bit her lip with indecision. Good, he thought savagely. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one unsure of myself.
He deliberately stared at her. Beginning at the silky crown of her head, his gaze moved lower, then slowly back up again. Gone was the passionate woman in the sexy black dress. In her place was a calm, cool woman in a tailored, caramel-colored suit, the neat white blouse she wore beneath the jacket buttoned demurely to her throat. Her hair, though, was the same vibrant shade of auburn, and her creamy skin glowed.
He frowned. Now that he looked more closely, he could see faint, bluish circles beneath her eyes, the gold depths darker, shadowed.
Probably with guilt for running out on me after she spent the night.
She shifted under his gaze, a faint pink tinting her cheeks, and he realized that he’d been standing motionless, silently staring at her for far too long. He tore his gaze from her face and glanced around the room. A group of framed photos hung on the wall nearest her desk, and he moved closer to study them.
“Friends of yours?” The older couple in the center photograph was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen them before.
“My parents, actually.”
“Mmm.” The couple was featured in all of the photos, he realized. And he easily recognized the film, stage and political heavyweights that shared the shots. Comprehension dawned and he looked at Allison. “Baker? Your parents are Stephen and Marguerite Baker, the film producers?”
“Yes.”
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Allison,” he said softly.
She looked genuinely confused. She should have stayed in Hollywood and become an actress, he thought, furious. She’s giving an Academy-Award-winning performance.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“No?” Jorge knew that he’d just discovered why Allison hadn’t contacted him. Her parents were rich and famous while he was the son of a blue-collar worker. Although he’d become a powerful man in Manhattan, his comfortable wealth and position were self-made, while Allison had been born into wealth in a talented, famous family. He’d encountered social snobbery before, but it hadn’t occurred to him that prejudice was a possibility with Allison.
“Jorge, I know that our night together was a one-night aberration for you.”
He blinked slowly, trying to follow her reasoning. “An aberration?”
“Of course. I read the newspaper society columns on occasion. I’m well aware that I’m not the sort of woman you normally date.”
“Really?” He looked her swiftly up and down and shook his head, baffled.
She pushed nervous fingers through her hair and tucked it behind her ear before clasping her hands tightly together at her waist. “I know that I shouldn’t have left the room that morning without saying goodbye. I certainly understand that you expected to hear from me, and that you’re no doubt curious as to why I failed to contact you, but you needn’t worry. I don’t plan to pursue you.”
“You don’t?” Why
