she’s got rid of those scars, she’ll be unstoppable.’ She smiled at Jack. ‘Louis loves the work he does here—he says it grounds him after dealing with rich socialites who have nothing more to worry about than new crows’ feet appearing …’
‘He’s my mother’s cosmetic surgeon.’
Her lack of embarrassment at her faux pas was refreshing, and when she laughed, so did Jack.
‘So what will he do for Nancy?’
‘A miracle,’ Nina said. ‘I had a woman last year who had massive, ke-, ke-, I can’t remember the name. Really thick scars.’
‘Keilod scars,’ Jack said.
‘That’s it, and her nose had been broken numerous times. Louis did the most amazing work, he always does—he gives these women their faces back.’
As the evening progressed Jack was far from bored.
He was, in fact, fascinated.
They didn’t finish till after ten, not because of clients but because they actually sat talking and Jack became more and more impressed with what he’d never thought he would be. He started to understand the holistic approach that she favoured so much, and they carried on chatting as Jack drove her home.
‘We offer counselling not just to the women and children but also their partners. Some women stay and some men do choose to change.’ She saw his disbelieving eye-roll. ‘Some do!’
‘Perhaps,’ Jack said, though he’d have to see it to believe it.
Actually, he wanted to see it to believe it.
‘I’ve got a fundraiser for the burns unit next weekend.’ Jack glanced at her. ‘Come with me.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘No, please. You dismiss all the work that I do, just as I dismissed yours, and I would like you to see what I do.’
‘Jack …’ Her voice was slightly weary. ‘I’d stick out like a sore thumb at one of those dos.’
‘I can—’
‘Please,’ Nina broke in. ‘Don’t offend me by offering to buy me something to wear. If I was a millionaire I still wouldn’t drop a thousand dollars on an evening dress and shoes.’
A thousand dollars wouldn’t begin to cover it and Jack felt that knot of unease again in his stomach as he thought of the wealth that surrounded him, the money that made money and the games that he played.
‘Think about it.’
‘May be.’
She wouldn’t.
‘And speaking of men who don’t change—’ they were nearing the turn-off for her apartment and Jack wanted to drive on ‘—would you like dinner?’
‘I had something to eat at work.’
‘A drink perhaps?’
This question Nina did think about, she really did.
She sat with her bottom being warmed on a leather seat and glanced over at him, at his perfect profile. Then, as his hand moved to turn on the music, she saw his manicured nails and the flash of his expensive watch and she remembered that he was everything she abhorred, except still she wanted him.
And Jack was the first man she had ever wanted.
The first.
Avoiding him hadn’t cleared her head—her mind was still full of him. The fight to concentrate on anything but him was a permanent one these days and she knew nothing would come of it, knew it would be short-lived, but there were too many less–than-pleasant memories in her head, and Nina wanted a nicer one to replace them.
And so she agreed to a drink.
‘Please.’
He had been sure she’d refuse him, and just as he blinked at her acceptance she surprised him again.
‘Maybe we could have a drink back at your place.’
It was like a game with two players and they were both assessing the rules.
She walked into his gleaming bachelor pad and Jack Carter was everything she wasn’t into.
Not just wealth-wise either.
He undid her coat with this half-smile on his face, made a lot of work of her belt, and that made her tingle in places she shouldn’t.
It was a tiny thing, but Nina felt her heart beating in her throat.
‘Drink …’ Jack said, pouring her one without waiting for her reply.
He watched her at the window, still in her boots and that awful grey pinafore, but, he conceded, he liked the purple.
But it wasn’t just her appearance that was different from that of any woman he usually brought home, it wasn’t just that Nina was different.
He actually felt different.
Very different.
He just couldn’t nail why.
He took off his tie, kicked off his shoes, took a seat on a low lounge and watched as she stood there, looking out at the New York skyline she loved.
‘What are you thinking?’ Jack asked.
‘Nothing. I’m just looking at the view.’
‘Come on, Nina, what are you thinking?’
Nina turned. ‘Will I be sent to the naughty corner if I don’t tell you?’
‘Blindfolded.’ Jack actually laughed.
‘I don’t think I like you, Jack.’ It was strange she could be so honest, could turn and look him in the eye and say exactly what she thought. ‘And I know this isn’t going anywhere.’
‘Why not?’
‘Oh, please,’ she scoffed. She didn’t need the sweet talk, she really didn’t and told him so as she walked over to where he sat. ‘I don’t know that I’m up for the sexual marathon of the next few days or weeks and then the awkwardness after …’
‘I’m never awkward,’ Jack said, and watched as she smiled. ‘I bet you like really considerate, thoughtful lovers who say, “Is this okay for you, Nina?” as you lie there bored out of your mind.’
‘No.’
He frowned.
‘So, if you’re not sure you like me, why are you here?’
‘Maybe for the same reason as you.’
‘I’ll tell
