Before I have a chance to reply, a deep, sexy voice rasps, “Yes, he is,” from behind me.
Chills run down my spine. My body tightens as my breath hitches. A warm hand slowly travels up my back and rests on my bare shoulder. Jackson’s presence is so distinct. I know it’s him even without turning around. His thumb rests on the back of my neck, rubbing up and down. The entire lower part of my body is warm and tingling from his possessive touch.
Jackson’s voice is low and warning, and I can only imagine the look he’s giving Pat right now. “Catherine,”—he leans close and presses his lips to my temple—“sorry to keep you waiting. Our table is ready.”
Pat’s face is stoic as he returns to his beer. I smile at him and place the ten-dollar bill back on the counter. Poor guy. He didn’t stand a chance.
I gather my things and hear Jackson inhale loudly as I stand. When I turn to him he’s standing there with his jaw slack. I look around to see what has his attention, but he’s staring at me.
I try to break his trance. “Jackson?”
“You look breathtaking. I can’t take my eyes off you.” He looks me up and down, stopping leisurely at my neckline before his eyes make their way back up to my face.
“Ummm, thanks.” I don’t know how to take his compliment, the way he said it, or the way he seems to be undressing me with his eyes. I’m suddenly very hot—and bothered.
“You don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?” I ask.
“Every man in this bar wants you right now.” He takes a step forward, never breaking eye contact. “Every man wants to be me right now.” Another step. “And none of them see what I see.” One more step. We’re now toe-to-toe as I lift my head to stare into his eyes. My heart beats so loud in my ears I have to strain to hear his words. He places his hand on my hip, pulling me against him. “I’m going to kiss you now, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
He lowers his head and hooks his other hand around my back, slowly sliding it up as the gap between us closes. His full lips are only a breath away when my lids flutter and shut. Then I feel his lips, soft and warm, pressing against mine. He pulls me even closer, tightening his grip and intensifying the kiss. I thread my fingers into his hair as his tongue sweeps across my lips, seeking entrance. I’ve died and gone to heaven. This is one of those moments I’ll remember forever. Every girl dreams about a kiss like this. I sigh and give him access as our tongues brush against each other. All too soon Jackson loosens his hold and ends the kiss. He lets out a soft breath and then presses a brief kiss to my lips once more. His voice is raspy against my ear. “That should’ve been our first kiss.”
I’m afraid to open my eyes and face a repeat rejection like last time. I lower my arms, still holding on to his shoulders, and take a deep breath. Hesitantly, I open my eyes and look up. Intensity like I’ve never seen dominates his stare, and my doubts about him wanting me, about this crazy attraction between us, disappear. With that one look he’s torn down every wall around my heart. All my futile reasons to stay away from him are gone, replaced by this undeniable pull toward Jackson Cole. They simply don’t exist anymore, and I realize I never had a chance against him. I open my mouth to speak but can’t find my voice. I’ve never known this kind of feeling. It’s heady and intoxicating, filling me with fear and excitement. He gently places his finger under my chin, pushing my jaw shut, and the dimple I love so much reappears with his warm smile.
My smile is shy when I finally speak. “So … dinner?” Dinner? That’s my fabulous response? My cheeks flare red—I’m so embarrassed. He makes me so self-conscious. The confidence he exudes is hard to keep up with.
Thankfully, he smiles and nods. “Yes, let’s eat and talk.”
Jackson places his hand on the small of my back and I grab my drink before making our way over to the hostess. Once we’re seated, I basically down my martini and order another one. My palms are sweating and I can’t stop fidgeting.
The restaurant is beautiful. It’s done in rich blues and greens, which reminds me of Jackson’s eyes. There’s a large oyster bar on the right wall and the entire back wall is windows overlooking the ocean. Our table is situated with a perfect view of the water. I look around, smiling at the opulence of the scenery and clientele.
Jackson clears his throat as a handsome man walks toward us with a smile on his face. “Carter!” He stands. “How are you? It’s been a long time,” he says as they hug and clap each other on the back.
Carter glances down at me and back over at Jackson. “Yes, brother, it has been. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Jackson smiles and shifts his weight. “No problem. This is Catherine. She’s the new publicist working with me on the cosmetics company.”
“Oh, well, I thought maybe you were finally getting back out there.” Carter places his hand on his shoulder and Jackson’s eyes narrow as he subtly shakes his head.
Hmmm … that’s weird. Back out there? And what’s with the head shake? My stomach plummets as fear grips my heart. A hundred scenarios race through my mind.
“I should get back to my dinner.” Jackson’s tone is flat, lacking the buoyancy it held moments before. “It was good seeing you. I’ll call next time I’m in town.”
“You know Mad—”
“See you, Carter,” Jackson cuts in.
“Right. See you, brother. Don’t be a stranger.” He pats his back and Jackson returns to his seat.
He won’t look my way. Gone is the warm and sensual man from a few minutes ago. I can feel the tension coming off him in waves. I want to say something but—well, I don’t really know what the hell any of this is. I’m not his girlfriend or even his friend, really. I’m his publicist. He made that crystal clear. I’m such a fool. I knew it was a mistake to get all dressed up and think there could be anything more to this. Taking his cue, I straighten my back and decide to rebuild my wall.
The waitress comes over and takes our orders, and Jackson starts talking about the business. An hour and three martinis later, dinner is done. I want to go to bed. I’m upset and exhausted. I kept myself in check. I didn’t get all gooey—I did good. It’s not as if he was being charming anyway. We created a plan on where he wants to see things go. He asked a lot of questions regarding the market and buying behaviors, but we steered clear of anything other than the end goal and how he wants to handle the launch. I gave him my best suggestions on how we get there, but the entire dinner Jackson barely spoke other than to ask pointed business questions.
Resting my hand on the table and fiddling with the martini glass, I’m lost in my disappointment. Jackson blows out a deep breath and leans forward then back again. Looking into his eyes, I can see the turmoil churning. After a few seconds, he leans forward again and places his hand over mine.
Glancing at our joined hands, I pull mine out of his grasp and place it on my lap, refusing to look at him. I’m hurt and angry. Two times he’s kissed me and two times he’s rejected me. The last time was different but the pain is the same.
His deep voice breaks through my ruminating. “Catherine, don’t pull away.”
“I’m not.” I say sharply. I didn’t pull away—he did. And so what if I did? He’s not anything more than a client and I don’t have to get personal with him.
He narrows his eyes and places his hand on the table palm up. “Yes. You are. We need to talk about this. Please give me your hand.”
I look down at his hand, open and waiting for me. All I want to do is place my hand in his, to feel his skin against mine. Yet I don’t want to. I close my eyes and shake my head.
“Please. I want to explain.”
I lift my eyes and see nothing but sincerity. His hand is just lying on the table, waiting, and I’m paralyzed. I remember my rule and promise—I won’t allow any man to hurt me again, not that I can prevent it entirely. I place my hand on the table next to his, sending my own message. “Explain, then.”