roar in her ears. So much for keeping their past in the past. Taking the initiative, she said, “We attended Winslow College together.”
“I’ll be damned.” Dawson gave a chuckle. The attractive financial analyst ran his fingers through his light brown hair. “I hope you’re not old lovers or anything.”
As if ice cubes slid down her spine, she shivered.
“No,” Brody answered. His knowing look speared Jillian. “We weren’t.”
His hardened tone grated against her nerves. What did he have to be irritated about? Thank God, she’d wised up before he’d made another conquest. She and Brody had come close to becoming lovers. So close. Before she’d learned she wasn’t the only woman he was dating or taking to his bed. Remembering the pain and humiliation, Jillian felt her blood congeal. Her stomach lurched and she pressed her lips together.
“Just old friends?” Dawson quirked a skeptical brow, then shrugged. “Good, then I picked the right woman for the job. One of the reasons I chose Jillian was for her experience in Australia. But I had no idea you two would know each other.”
Dawson moved to the open doorway. “She’ll be an asset in this merger. She’s got a good head for numbers.” He stepped between them and out the door. “I’ve got a departmental meeting. I’ll let you get reacquainted.”
Jillian gave a nod of agreement but wished she could find her desk, sit and put her head between her knees before she keeled over. Her insides fluttered with uncertainty.
“Brody,” Dawson added, “give me a buzz if you have any questions. Jillian should be able to get you all the information you need. I want this merger to go as smoothly as possible.”
“Thanks, mate.” Brody waited for Dawson to turn the corner down the hallway before leveling his gaze on Jillian. Where once he’d been friendly and accepting, he was now distant, seemingly sizing one up as if to calculate their worth. She sensed he considered her a liability.
A long pause pulsed between them before he said, “How are you, Jillie?”
His rugged accent made her name sound exotic, sensual. She remembered his nickname for her, and her skin tingled. “Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m fine. And you?”
He leaned against the doorjamb and mirrored her stance. “I’m curious.”
She felt as if the air had been sucked right out of her body. She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “About?”
“You bailed out of Australia right fast.”
She released a pent-up breath. Her shoulders slumped with sudden fatigue. What was the point of rehashing their relationship? “Brody, it’s been a long time.”
“Then the next thing I know,” he continued, ignoring her statement, “I receive a letter telling me you’d married. Did you leave because you missed that bloke… What was his name?”
“James.” She made her tone neutral.
“Did you miss him so much?”
Leaving Australia had been the right thing to do. Brody had made her feel worthless…used. She’d been all alone, feeling as if she had no one to confide in, but when she’d called to share her woes with her mother, she’d learned of her mother’s sudden stroke. Her mistake had come after she’d returned home when she’d sought the comforting arms of her high school sweetheart. It wasn’t until after her marriage to James that she’d truly understood the meaning of lonely.
“I wrote the letter,” she said, anger tinting her words, “because I thought you would want to know.” She hoped to end this conversation as an uncomfortable heat enveloped her.
“Yeah, right.” His cynical tone nettled her. He took a step toward her. His casual stance changed. Suddenly his gaze was hot, intense. A nervous vibration rippled through her, making the back of her neck prickle. “But you didn’t think,” he said, his voice rough, “that I’d want to give you—” his mercurial gaze focused on her mouth “—a goodbye kiss?”
She gritted her teeth and squared her shoulders. When she’d realized she’d made a mistake marrying James, she’d wanted to reach out to Brody because she still loved him. Even after he’d broken her heart. Yet she’d also wanted to punish him. “If you don’t think you can work with me, Brody, fine.” She shoved away her regrets and buried them beneath other painful experiences. “I’ll let Dawson know you need a different assistant.” She turned to go, anger pumping through her veins. No job was worth this.
“Jillie.” He grabbed her arm, spun her back around to face him. “Wait. Just tell me why. Dammit! Why’d you bail?”
His hand curled around her wrist, his touch as warm and familiar as an old flannel shirt. Yet his grip wasn’t soft or cozy. It felt more like a harsh, ever-tightening vise. A quick flash of heat made her scalp tingle, her skin flush. Stiffening her resolve against him, remembering how he’d hurt her, how used she’d felt, she jerked her chin upward in challenge.
He leaned toward her, piercing her with his blunt gaze. He stood so close that the bold masculine scent of his cologne wrapped around her, captivating, cloying, confining. Blood drained out of her head and pooled in her feet. His face blurred. A whirring noise inside her head made her ears ring.
“Brody, I—” Her words slurred together. Her knees buckled. She reached for him and missed. Her hand swiped at the space between them, catching only air. A swirling vortex of colors spun her around and around. Until she felt herself falling…falling…
Stunned, Brody watched as Jillian began to crumple like a paper doll. Without measuring the consequences, he knelt to grab her before she hit the carpet. He cradled her limp body in his arms.
He looked around for help…for someone. No one was in the hallway. Turning, he sought a place to set her down. The conference table? The floor? A chair? Damn! Now what?
She lifted her hand to push him away—or clutch at him, he wasn’t sure which. As if in slow motion, her hand fell, heavy, lifeless, across her stomach. He noticed the soft rise and fall of her breasts. Okay, she was breathing. Still, she was definitely unconscious.
Panic seized him. You, fool! he cursed himself. You pushed her to this. You pushed too damn hard!
“Jillie?” Concern edged his voice as he gave her a light shake.
Pale and placid, her features frozen, she looked almost peaceful. Her shimmery blond hair splayed out across his shoulder. She stirred, a jerky movement, as if she were struggling to climb back to consciousness.
Not knowing what else to do, he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the conference table. Her slight frame felt as light as a biscuit his mother used to make. Her eyelids fluttered open. Once more he was struck by the vibrant blue-green color. The rich, vivid hues reminded him of the Coral Reef, beautiful to view, but sharp and dangerous.
Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone? Why can’t you get her out of your mind? And heart?
That’s one reason he’d agreed to come to Texas. He’d needed to see her again, needed to for his own survival. So he could go on with his life. Without her memory haunting him. Without his desire for her consuming him.
“Jillie,”
