“This is Damon,” Jake said. “My brother.”
Damon leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. “That was quite a performance.”
“Simply trying to make a point,” Jake replied.
“Ah—Nadia, I presume.”
Jake nodded. “This is Kimberly.” He turned to Kim. “You could say you and I met because of Damon.”
“We did?”
“Yes. He was supposed to take over Dad’s company but had a premature midlife crisis and decided he wanted to be a painter instead.”
“An artist, please—a painter sounds like I decorate houses.”
“Anyway, that’s why I left the army and set up the security company, and the reason I was in your building back when you were married to that bastard.”
“What were you doing there?” Kim frowned. “You never really said.”
He looked a little shifty. “Just surveillance on one of the residents.”
She wanted to ask more because she had a weird notion, but at that moment, Jake’s mother approached them.
“Did you have to?” she muttered to Jake. “A parachute jump. What were you thinking?”
Jake grinned. “He’ll enjoy it.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
Kim allowed the conversation to flow over her. They were a nice family, and it was obvious they were close. She’d never had that and felt a faint glimmer of regret. Things hadn’t been too bad while her mother was alive. But she’d died in a car crash when Kim was ten.
Without warning, she was back in that night. Her mother yelling… “You don’t love me. You wouldn’t care if I was dead.” The door slamming. The police… She shoved the memory back into its corner.
Her father had never married again. Kim found it amazing he’d married at all. He was a loner, immersed in his work, something secretive for the British government. He’d found Kim an encumbrance and an irritation. She’d spent most of her time at boarding school, even the holidays, with the exception of a week each year they vacationed together. It had never been a happy time.
He didn’t dislike her, she was sure, but he did resent her. And she’d never been able to feel comfortable with him. The questions hovering over her mother’s death, the questions she hadn’t dared ask, had ensured that. And when she’d left school, he hadn’t known what to do with her. She had a place at Oxford but didn’t want to go. She was fed up with education, needed to do something, work out what she wanted from life. And then she’d met Michael.
Another bad memory.
She sipped her champagne, careful not to drink too much. She was sure Jake would stick to his word to not make love to her unless she asked. But to be on the safe side, she didn’t want to lower her inhibitions. She suspected it wouldn’t take much alcohol to drop her barriers sufficiently to beg him to finish that massage. Considerably less than it would take for Jake to decide his scruples wouldn’t allow him to do it.
Why couldn’t life be simple? She wouldn’t have these issues with Steve. But only because she didn’t care one way or the other about him. Caring was dangerous.
She whispered to Jake and then headed across to the ladies’ room. Her lipstick was gone—this makeup thing was a full-time job. Coming out, she walked straight into Nadia.
“He doesn’t love you,” Nadia said.
Kim was aware that Jake was only acting, and she didn’t want him to love her, really she didn’t. All the same, Nadia’s words twisted a knife in her guts. She gritted her teeth against the pain. “Yes, he does.”
Nadia continued as if Kim hadn’t spoken. “He just feels sorry for you.”
God, the woman was a bitch. “No, he doesn’t.”
“But it won’t last, and he’ll come back to me.”
“No, he won’t.”
Nadia stepped closer. Kim hoped she wasn’t going to get physical. Or maybe she hoped she would. She searched the room for Jake, couldn’t see him anywhere, but his brother caught her eye and came over.
“Nadia, you want to dance?”
“No—”
Damon ignored her resistance, put his arm around her waist, and led her away. Nadia, thankfully, wasn’t so far gone that she’d descend into an unruly scrabble.
Kim sighed and leaned back against the pillar. She nabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and did a little people-watching. Finally, she located Jake talking with his father. As though he felt her eyes on him, he raised his head and stared at her.
A slow smile curled his lips and started an ache in her chest. She wanted him. But indulging in a sexual relationship would change everything. It would lead to caring. And he’d want to control her because he cared. And she might let him.
How could they ever go back to the way things had been?
He said something to his father and put down his glass. His attention never left her as he strolled across the floor and held out his hand. “Dance with me?”
She shut down her internal arguments; she’d worry about them tomorrow. Asking him to make love to her was out of the question, but she’d enjoy what she could have. She stepped into his arms, wrapped hers around his waist, and laid her head on his chest. It felt like coming home.
And she’d worry about that tomorrow as well.
Chapter Thirteen
“Have you heard a word I’ve said for the last half hour?” Jess asked.
Kim shook her head, trying to get her brain in gear. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked what you think looks good.” Jess had met her for brunch the morning after the party. “Why do I get the impression your mind isn’t on food?”
Probably because it wasn’t. Her mind was on something else entirely.
“I can’t stop thinking about sex with Jake,” she said.
Beside her, Jess dropped her menu and cast Kim a disbelieving sideways glance. “On his desk?”
“Not necessarily.” Anywhere and everywhere, actually.
“I thought you’d decided it was never going to happen…again?”
“I did. I guess I must be sexually frustrated.”
“So why not just do it?”
Wasn’t it obvious? “Because I don’t want to have sex with Jake. Well, I do, but it’s not that simple.” She took a deep breath. Time to put her fears into words. “I think Jake might want more than sex.”
“As in…?”