Erotic Invitation. Carly Phillips

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СКАЧАТЬ feminine kinship for Mrs. Lederman even if she couldn’t act on those feelings.

      And he still wanted to know she wasn’t as cold and calculating as she appeared. “You make it sound like you’d hit her up with false sympathy anywhere, including the ladies room.”

      She paused, as if contemplating his words and her delay in answering gave him hope.

      “If that’s what it took to win this client over, then yes. I would,” she said at last.

      So much for hope, he thought, disappointed beyond words. “Geez, lady, you’re cold. Just once on this trip I’d like to see the woman beneath the frigid facade.”

      She stiffened and Jack cursed. He hadn’t meant to speak aloud, nor had he meant to insult her. He just couldn’t understand the conflicting emotions she inspired in him. But it wasn’t an excuse and he doubted she’d understand.

      She held the pad against her chest. “I take it that wasn’t a compliment.”

      That much was obvious. “Look, I meant nothing by it. It was just a thoughtless…”

      “Tactless, male remark. No offense taken.” But her lips trembled as she spoke.

      He didn’t believe her. Though she hadn’t run off in tears and her strength impressed him, he’d finally managed to crack the frigid mask she’d pasted on her face. This time she wasn’t able to hide the pain his words caused her.

      He felt lower than a snake. He’d gotten his wish. He hadn’t seen her feminine side but he knew one existed. Unfortunately getting his wish held little satisfaction right now and not only because he’d hurt her. But because in causing her pain, he’d learned something about himself and Mallory. He cared about her feelings—something that was rare for him when dealing with women.

      He hated phony tears. He hated when a woman played on his sympathy because he’d supposedly hurt her tender feelings. His mother was an expert at playing his father. And Jack had always sworn he’d never be the vulnerable one. To accomplish that goal, he couldn’t let himself care.

      He glanced at Mallory’s face. She’d managed to plaster on a fake smile. One he didn’t buy for a second. And that bothered him. A lot.

      “See you.” She turned and walked away, blue skirt hanging too low around her legs, hair pulled back in an unattractive bun.

      “Shit,” Jack said loud and clear. He glanced around the beach, which had filled up with women. Scantily clad women. Single women.

      If Mallory appealed to him on so many levels there had to be a reason.

      Maybe he just needed to get laid.

      3

      SO HE WANTED to see the woman behind the frigid facade did he? Mallory jerked open and slammed closed the drawers in her room, tossing things on the bed and muttering aloud.

      Cold. He’d had the nerve to call her cold. She picked up her most sinful, decadent teddy and held it in the air. Could she really be cold, frigid, she amended if her taste ran to silk and satin? To warm brandy and smooth sheets? To erotic dreams she couldn’t share with anyone, including the man who inspired them?

      She pushed the pile of lingerie aside and flopped down on the bed. Her fist curled around the bedspread and she swiped at a stray tear that dripped down her face. God, the man had a way of getting to her. Sexually, emotionally, it didn’t matter. She cared what he thought of her and hated, hated that all he saw was Mallory Sinclair, Esq. A woman she’d created to achieve her long-standing goal.

      A goal that suddenly came in second to showing Jack Latham his hunch was right. The man obviously sensed there was more to Mallory than what the world saw. What he saw. Just as she believed there was more to Jack Latham than his Terminator moniker implied.

      But the old double standard had come into play and Jack had actually criticized her for doing her job as well as any man. Mallory might not like her father’s outlook on many things, but her parents had still in-grained her with some values she both admired and lived by. Including loyalty, respect and staying power—in relationships as well as careers. So here she was attempting to do her best for a man who was obviously hurting his wife. His treatment of Mrs. Lederman didn’t, or shouldn’t, matter, not to the professionals hired to represent him in a divorce. And that’s what Mallory was. A professional.

      Jack ought to understand because they were bound by the same ethics. Yet because she was a woman he expected her to act differently. To show her emotions. Coming from Jack, that damn double standard hurt. She’d expected more of him though she didn’t know why. The man was the Terminator, after all. He represented husbands against wives regardless of fairness or truth. Because that was his ethical obligation.

      But despite his job as Waldorf, Haynes’s chief divorce attorney, Mallory believed there was more to Jack. Just one day in his company and she sensed a gold mine of emotion beneath the surface. Oh, if pushed, he would claim to believe in all his male clients. He would state aloud that women were at fault in the breakup of most marriages. She’d heard him spout the same rhetoric around the office. She couldn’t help hearing his secretary’s gossip about why he’d become a hotshot divorce attorney. If the stories regarding his mother’s blatant and ongoing in-fidelities were true, then personal pain lay behind Jack’s antimarriage rhetoric.

      His shaded sunglasses had hidden his eyes but other things had given his emotions away. The twitch in his full lips and the grip of his hand on the table that turned his knuckles white, only obvious because she’d been looking for a sign of humanity, had proven Mallory correct. He wasn’t immune to Mrs. Lederman’s suffering, even as he directed her to communicate with the husband she loved through their attorneys from now on.

      It had been easier to ignore Jack Latham’s appeal when only sexual attraction was involved. Now that Mallory had spent time with the man, now that she saw depth behind the good looks and toned body, she couldn’t leave him with the impression he obviously had of her. He wanted to see the woman behind the mask. And she had enough pride to want to strip away the veneer and show him.

      It was a gamble. Jack Latham was a respected partner. He could break her career with a word whispered in the right ears. But weighing all risks, Mallory came down on the side of chance.

      Geez, lady, you’re cold. Just once on this trip I’d like to see the woman beneath the frigid facade.

      She fingered a garment of pure silk between her fingertips. If he was perceptive enough to use that sort of terminology, Mallory was gutsy enough to expose what lay beneath.

      For his eyes only.

      Curling her legs beneath her, Mallory gave serious thought to how best make her point. By the time she’d formulated her plan, she’d actually managed to arouse herself with tantalizing, intriguing possibilities.

      She glanced at her watch. She had some free time before meeting up with Jack again later. Plenty of opportunity to set things in motion.

      She lay back against the pillows, squeezed her eyes shut tight and imagined Jack’s reaction. Anticipation rose inside her, building to a rolling crescendo, causing a steady, rhythmic pounding beat between her thighs. She lay her hand on the soft material of her panties. A small press downward both alleviated the ache and increased her need. Her fingertips glided over silk, outlining her mound of flesh. So easily, she thought. She could take the edge off СКАЧАТЬ