‘I’m not sure I believe it would be anything special to you, Jake,’ she said on a doubtful sigh. ‘Perhaps you think you can seduce me back to work with you.’
He said nothing.
Which, to Merlina’s mind, meant she’d hit the nail on the head. Except he threw her into emotional confusion again when he did reply.
‘Seduction is not my scene. I’ve only ever been with women who’ve wanted to be with me. I hope you will choose to be my partner at work again because we make a great team. And I don’t think anyone can fill your shoes, Merlina.’
Those all too seductive words completely destroyed the cynicism she had struggled to maintain. She wanted to be his partner—his partner in everything. They did make a great team. And she knew in her bones that no one was going to fill his shoes, either.
The need to be with him dragged at her heart. She closed her eyes, wishing it was possible to forget everything else and just let it happen. She could give it three months, couldn’t she? If it didn’t look like leading where she wanted it to go, break it off then and walk away. But having got in so deep, would she want to?
The choices one made directed one’s life, but how many choices were driven by emotion? Had she really chosen to carve out a career for herself, or was it simply a rebellion against the constrictions innate in living up to the Italian way, as dictated by her father. Had she chosen to cut her hair and re-image herself to get the job at Signature Sounds or had that motivation been pushed by the desire to make Jake Devila sit up and take notice of her—man/woman notice?
As for playing the get-Jake game with Byron, she’d been indulging a vengeful streak that had completely overwhelmed common sense. Vengeance and hope—a cocktail for chaos, not a recipe for forging a good future.
Her resignation from the job had been an attempt to take real control of where she was going in her life, yet even that had been a reaction to intolerable circumstances, and this move from Jake tonight was spinning her right out of control again. Her head was aching from the stress of trying to choose the right direction. Her heart kept thumping its own message—let it happen. You want it to.
Jake was acutely conscious of her silence. Had he said enough to break the barriers she was trying to keep between them? She wasn’t arguing and Mel—Merlina—was rarely lost for words when she had a point to push. He had to stop thinking Mel. If he slipped up on her name again, she’d probably kick him out of her life.
A quick glance told him she’d closed her eyes, retreating into her own inner world, shutting him out. That was a bad sign. Her mind was probably working against him, thinking of Vanessa and the other women who’d traipsed through his life and bed since she’d been his personal assistant. He couldn’t blame her for not believing she held a uniquely special place in his mind. But she did. He’d just wanted to keep her separate from the party scene—all to himself at work.
No choice now.
He had to do whatever had to be done not to lose her.
They were crossing the harbour bridge. Only fifteen more minutes to her apartment in Chatswood. He knew where it was, had dropped her there a few times after meetings with business associates had run late. She’d never invited him in and he’d never pushed to go in, knowing it would be a dangerous place to be. Too intimate. Too tempting.
But that didn’t matter any more. His whole body was yearning to have her in his arms again, firing up the passion that had flared between them. Just kissing her had been pure dynamite. And she had certainly felt it as strongly as he had. She couldn’t turn her back on it. No one in their right mind would.
A red traffic light forced a stop at the Artarmon turn-off. It gave him time to take more than a glance at her. She was a study in stillness, as though she was holding herself tightly together. Her eyes were still closed. There was a sad, defeated air about her expressionless face. It suggested she had given up on fighting him but wasn’t happy about it.
He wanted to lean over and kiss her, bring her back to vibrant life again. The car behind his honked an impatient warning that the line of traffic in front of him was moving. Jake switched his attention to the road ahead and drove on, telling himself he’d make everything right for Merlina when the trip to Chatswood was over.
The car came to a halt and the engine was switched off. Time up, Merlina thought. No escape from facing up to the situation now. With a resigned sigh, she opened her eyes and saw they were parked directly in front of her apartment. Jake had brought her home as promised.
It was an old-fashioned block of only four apartments and she lived on left-hand side ground floor. She had her own entrance via a front porch which caught the sun in winter. Apart from this pleasant feature, the apartment was fairly basic: a living room which was separated from the kitchen by a breakfast bar, a bathroom/laundry and two bedrooms at the back.
Jake had never been inside. Nor had she ever been inside his penthouse at Milson’s Point where he had undoubtedly entertained many women. A convulsive little shiver of revulsion accompanied that thought. Merlina silently vowed she would never go there. If she was going to have sex with him it would take place in her bed where no other intimacy had ever occurred.
Her heart fluttered wildly as Jake alighted from the car and headed for the passenger side. Any second now she would be stepping out beside him and what would happen after that? He opened the door. Merlina was momentarily paralysed with fear, unable to make herself move.
‘We’re here,’ he said, prompting action.
‘Right!’ she forced herself to say, and somehow managed to swing her legs out of the car.
Jake grasped her arm, assisting in getting her upright from the low-slung seat. It brought her very close to him and when he took hold of her other arm, turning her to face him, every nerve in her body zinged as though hit by an electric charge. Was he about to kiss her? She looked up in helpless agitation. For several fraught moments, his eyes searched hers, and the tension emanating him held her more captive than his hands. What was he looking for? What did he want to find?
He didn’t kiss her.
‘Go and open up,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ll get your bags out of the trunk and bring them inside.’
Her arms were released. He turned away. Free to move, Merlina recollected herself and headed for her front door. I’m his puppet again, she thought, acting to his dictation. She didn’t even realise she had no handbag with her until she reached the porch. It was probably in the trunk, too. Rather than turn back, she took the emergency key from the little magnetic box attached to the pot stand under the pink geranium, used it to unlock the door, then returned it to its hiding place.