and again.
Meg needed someone looking out for her. It could have been him if he hadn’t been blinded by work. He should’ve seen she wasn’t happy. Her leaving him like that had been confirmation of his greatest fear.
Marrying her had been right for him, but not for her. He’d taken advantage of her youth, her naivety, and paid for it with a gaping hole in his life.
But now he was back. He was worthy of her now. He had money, security, and was hell-bent on not making the same mistakes again. He was sure that, whatever her reason for leaving, he could make it right now.
Jake could barely restrain his need to make her his again. But he knew from Meg’s chilly reception that she wasn’t ready to let them pick up where they left off. She wasn’t even willing to see how much he’d changed. If only he knew why. Then he’d have some chance of sorting this all out.
A muscle quivered in his jaw. ‘I mean it, Meg. I’m not leaving your side until you tell me what happened.’
Meg crossed her arms over her soft, full breasts, her lips pressed together in a grim line.
The look on her face said it all. Jake knew it well. Hers was a look of defiance, as if she’d rather be struck dead than give in to him. He’d spent enough years coercing men to work to know he had to change tack or lose.
‘Let me start over, Meg. This has gotten all out of proportion. I came to find you so I could work out what went wrong. So…’ He paused, faltering in his course of action. She had to feel safe, see him differently. ‘So I don’t make the same mistakes with…’ His befuddled mind dredged up the name of the woman who had handled his company’s business logo and card designs. ‘With Vivian.’
Meg’s arms dropped to her sides. Her lips parted in surprise, her whole jaw slack, blank eyes staring at him.
Of all the rotten…Meg’s mind ran through a dozen expletives. The nerve! Coming to ask her to explain to him what he’d done wrong so he didn’t wreck his precious relationship with this Vivian. The only reason!
She clenched her hands by her sides. No wonder it had taken him so long to find her. He’d been waiting for a good reason. And her name was Vivian.
She walked stiffly back to her desk, moving around the expanse of timber, hoping for some barrier between them. This had had to come. She had known that it would eventually. Though she’d expected some document in the mail from his solicitor, demanding she sign divorce papers so he could marry some nameless, faceless woman. Not him in person. ‘I guess you’ll want a divorce, then.’ She ground the words out from between her teeth.
He looked taken aback for a moment. ‘Yes, of course. But I’m not going to sign anything until I understand fully what went wrong with us.’ He seated himself casually in one of her embroidered chairs and propped a foot up on his knee, exuding a calm that Meg wished she could find herself.
‘Then why the hell did you kiss me?’ She leant heavily on the desk, wishing she could spit fire and strike him down where he sat, with her eyes alone.
He shrugged matter-of-factly. ‘Habit. Sorry. Forgot who you were for a moment—I just got carried away with your lips so close, begging to be taken.’
‘They were not begging!’ She turned away, willing her cheeks to cool. She’d been acting like a total idiot. She mentally rehashed their conversation and kicked herself. He’d been harping on about wanting to know what had happened in the past, not inviting himself into her life, or her future. She took several big breaths to slow her pounding heart. Here she was trying to convince him that she was mature now and she’d been rambling like a scared child.
She managed a smile, taking her eyes off his powerful body and staring at the fabric samples on her desk. ‘I’ll be glad to discuss your failings as a husband.’ Meg revelled in the idea of doling out a serving of revenge. She gritted her teeth. She would love to bring him down a peg or two with some hard truths. ‘Let’s say dinner tonight at seven, at Vivo’s?’
‘Same place as lunchtime?’ He hesitated. ‘Okay, sure.’ He rose in one fluid motion.
‘And bring Vivian,’ Meg added, inspired. She couldn’t get into any trouble with Jake if his precious girlfriend was there. And it would be darned interesting to see whom he was making such a fuss over. Then she could put a face to the woman who could tolerate Jake’s lack of commitment.
‘Vivian?’
‘Yes. Bring along the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.’ Her stomach twisted into a painful knot at the thought. ‘She’s the one who’d be most interested to hear what I have to say. She did come with you, didn’t she?’ Meg raised an eyebrow and held her breath. Maybe this woman was involved with him for his money and his body, not for love.
‘She’s in Brisbane.’ Jake’s voice faded, losing its strength. ‘Won’t be down until…tomorrow afternoon.’ He stopped and drew a deep breath. ‘That’s what I came in here about, actually. I wanted to check out the place for her. She wants a gown for some charity ball on the Gold Coast.’
‘Two birds with one stone?’
He shifted his weight and thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘Yeah, something like that.’
‘And do I check out?’ Meg didn’t know what to think any more. Her head felt as though it would split in half with the strain of the day’s turn of events. ‘Of course I won’t let on that you kissed me. I wouldn’t want to upset the apple cart.’ Or did she? Certainly she had some duty to let the woman know what she was getting into with Jake—she’d just have to find a way to wend his womanising ways into the conversation.
‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’
‘No worries.’ She smiled. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.’ Like plotting revenge, or collapsing in a heap, or both.
‘Will you still come tonight?’ Jake moved towards the door with all the satisfaction of a beast that had captured its prey.
‘Sure.’ A meal with Jake couldn’t hurt, and finding out all about Vivian and making a meal of her would be exactly what her ego needed to repair some of the damage.
‘Vivian?’ Jake could almost picture her behind her desk, ebony-black hair coiled on top of her head, pristine suit, sharp eyes and pinched mouth. Nothing like Meg.
‘Yes.’
He gripped the phone tighter. ‘Jacob Adams, JAKCO Constructions. You may not remember me. We met at the golf club, you did some work for me…?’
‘Of course I do,’ she purred. ‘Jacob, how are you? How’s work going? How’s the logo? The business cards? Is my ad in the Yellow Pages working?’
He swallowed. He hadn’t needed one in the first place; he got his work from tenders out of the newspapers mostly. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to disappoint the efficient woman. ‘Works great.’
‘Good.’ There was silence. ‘What can I do for you, then?’
He dragged air into his lungs, stewing on how to phrase his request. ‘I need your services for a week, in Melbourne. Strictly business, of course.’
‘Of
