to give you something you can’t give yourself.” He wanted to get her to notice him, and charm and expensive gifts weren’t the key to Willow. He could see that now.
“I don’t know that I want that kind of gift,” she said.
“Too bad. That’s what I’m claiming as my favor.”
“Uh, you already had your favor and it was a smokin’-hot kiss.”
“Dang, that’s right. Okay, fine, we’ll wait until after our date or better yet, I’ll make our date a no-talking-about-work one.”
“If that’s what you want,” she said, nibbling her lower lip.
“I really should be going,” she said.
But she made no move toward the door. She seemed as reluctant as he was to see this night end. “We didn’t get to really enjoy our coffee since we had that little work crisis to attend to … want another cup?”
She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I can’t or I’ll be up all night.”
“How about seeing where that kiss could lead?” he asked.
“I want to say yes. I think that’s why I’m still here. But I don’t get why I’m attracted to you,” she said. “It would have been so much nicer if your kiss tasted gross.”
That startled a laugh out of him and he shook his head. “You really are one of a kind. Sorry for not being gross.”
She gave him a really tender half smile that let him see how vulnerable she could be. And it was odd to see that expression on her face because she was always in charge. Always so in control of herself and her surroundings, but now he had a glimpse of a different side of her.
“It just makes everything so much more complicated.”
“Surely you’ve had that happen before,” he said. He couldn’t believe she’d get to thirty and not have found a man she could like kissing. “Dating is never as simple as we want it to be.”
“I don’t really date,” she admitted. “As you noted earlier I’m pretty much always all about work.”
“No man asks you out?”
“They do but I’m busy and no one has intrigued me enough—”
“Enough? Enough to what?”
She tipped her head to the side, studying him with that clear cool gaze of hers. “To risk getting hurt.”
“Not every relationship equals hurt,” he said.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, turning on her heel and heading toward the door.
“Who hurt you?” he asked. “Was it a lover or your father?”
She glanced back over her shoulder. “It doesn’t really matter. At least not now.”
Willow was surprised by how intuitive Jack was and she didn’t necessarily like it. A fun bet with Nic was one thing; actually letting Jack past her defenses was something else. She’d meant it when she’d said she wished he wasn’t a good kisser. She didn’t want to like him.
She understood why Nichole had wanted her to come on this date. But Willow hadn’t realized how much she had hidden away from her past until now. The emotions she’d thought she’d forgotten were all there stirring inside of her and making her say and do things that her common sense said not to.
“I think it does matter,” he said. “I don’t want to fight a ghost of a man. Tell me the details so I know what I’m up against.”
No way. She didn’t want to get all deep and Greek tragedy on him. She always thought of her epic quest for vengeance as some sort of ancient tale. It made it easier to wait for opportunities to strike back at Jack. Vengeance wasn’t an instant gratification process.
“This was our first date,” she said. “You are supposed to be thinking about asking me out on a second date, not about the other men I’ve dated.”
“I am thinking about that, Wills, but I know that you’re not going to fall for a man you can’t trust. And so far all I’ve done to impress you is not kiss gross.”
“The not being gross thing counts for a lot more than you think it does,” she said, trying to move the conversation back into safer waters without letting him see how desperately she wanted to stop talking about this.
“Trust me, I’m flattered. But one of the things I’m seeing about you is that it takes more than a kiss to woo you.”
“Why woo me? Can’t you just do whatever it is you usually do?” she asked.
“No way. That’s the surefire way to have you for just one night,” he said.
That had to be a line.
“You want more than that?” she asked. “You don’t even know me.”
“Agreed. But I want to know you. Every time I’m with you I want to stay in your presence as long as I can. I know it’s not cool to admit but I’m obsessed with you.”
“Obsessed with me? As soon as you figure out why you’ll move on,” she said.
He shrugged. “I don’t think so. That’s why I need to know more about you.”
She doubted that knowledge would help. But the fact that he admitted to being enamored with her was a mark in her favor. She wanted revenge and she saw that it could be very easily had if she played her cards right. Except that she was conflicted. She liked Jack.
He had a self-effacing side—something that she’d take over ego and arrogance any day. He was funny and charming and then there were his kisses, which had almost made her want to drag him to the floor and have her way with him.
“I guess next Saturday will be a big date for us, then,” she said.
“Unless you want to stay here now and talk all night,” he said. “I’m flying to L.A. in the morning so I don’t mind.”
“Really? Don’t you need sleep like the rest of us?”
“I do,” he said, “but for you, I’d give it up.”
She had to work tomorrow but she was honest enough to admit to herself that she probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight for thinking about him. But staying here had mistake written all over it and she was done making mistakes with Jack Crown … really, she was.
“I can’t. I’m not ready to be that intense with you, Jack. I’m still not sure you aren’t playing some kind of game with me.”
He looked hurt for a nanosecond and then covered it with a shrug. “I’m not really a player.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t know you well enough yet. Thanks again for helping out with Deidre, though.”
“No problem. I like being able to help.”
“I can see that,” she said.
She reached for the doorknob and then glanced back over her shoulder to say goodbye. There was a wistful look on Jack’s face. She realized then that Nichole might have known that Jack seemed to genuinely care about her. Willow didn’t understand him herself. How could someone who’d treated her so callously in high school have grown into this man?
“Night,” he said, lifting one hand to wave goodbye to her.
“Night,” she said, walking out into the hallway and closing the door. She leaned back against it and took a deep breath. She really didn’t know what had happened but her heart was racing and she regretted leaving him.
She wasn’t being careful with her own emotions. Why was it that Jack Crown seemed to know the things to do and say to make her feel this way? Why couldn’t she meet another man who had this kind of power over her?