Page 25 of Jack

"I don't like to see you hurting."

"Why not?"

Bracing back against the doorframe, hehuffed out a breath. "Please don't make me say it. I shouldhave-"

"Tell me." She moved towards him,and he went rigid. Her face was lifted, a single tear sliding downher satiny cheek. Her body wash enveloped him, pulling him in. Oftheir own volition, his hands lifted to clasp her shoulders."Jazmine." Her name was like a prayer on his lips and hisbody was aching with the need to be with her. "Oh Christ!"With a tortured groan, he crushed her against him, his mouth coveringhers in a kiss that sent heat spearing through her body.

At first, she remained rigid. And then itwas as if a dam had broken. With a moan, she went on her toes andwrapped her hands around his neck.

Her compliance, the soft yielding of herbody against his was more than he could bear. He had spent the lasttwo weeks torturing himself by loving her from a distance andconvincing himself that it would pass, that as soon as she left, hewould get over her. Now, he knew he was just fooling himself.

He should fight the emotions coursingthrough his body. He should be man enough to let her go. She wasgoing through a very rough time, and it would be taking advantage ofher. He could not bear it if she would come to regret being with him.But oh God, he needed her.

Commonsense and logical thinking had fledand in their place, was a need so strong, it was threatening toconsume him from the inside out. Sweeping her into his arms, he madehis way up the stairs and straight to his suite without breaking thekiss. Time for regrets later on. But now, he had to have her, or hewas going to go mad.

*****

He had never been so angry in his life andthe pleasure he had felt as the evening progressed had all but gone.That infuriating shrew, he raged silently. The nerve of her.Attacking him like that in front of his date.

Tamping down the surge of lust as hepictured her, he drank steadily from the glass and wished for a fullglass of scotch. He would confront her. No, he shook his headmentally. He would never give her the satisfaction of knowing howmuch she had gotten to him. He would ignore her and if she approachedhim again, he was going to make good on his threats and destroy thatlittle bar of hers.

Removing Belinda's clinging fingers fromhis arm, he excused himself and made his way up the stairs. A fewselect people were already there bidding on several items. A Renoir,a Colby still life depicting a faceless woman in billowing white,wading through the thick grass that almost wrapped around her andsome sculptures from Jason.

He wanted some pieces for the apartmentbuilding that was being erected on Chancellor Street. It was going tobe the company's most exclusive and pricey living accommodations. Soexclusive that it was going to take some effort to get a lease.Agreements had started pouring in already, with people vying to bepart of the exclusivity.

The building had been in construction foralmost five years and was almost at the completion stage. It would befully furnished, each apartment different and tailormade to theoccupant. No expense had been spared. He had his acquisitions teamscouring the earth for the best of everything. Carpets, lush andexpensive from places in Italy and France. Sevres China, Antiquefurnishings, a mix of the old and contemporary and paintings gracingthe silken wallpapers. Not just any paintings, but the very best. Itwas the real reason he had attended the show tonight.

He scanned the room with a critical eye,noting the avid expressions on the faces of the bidders. Each personthere was desperate for a piece of exclusivity, a token to boastabout in their well-heeled circles. He understood that need all toowell; it was the lifeblood of his business. Yet tonight, as he stoodamidst the finery, none of it seemed to matter.

Her face hovered at the edge of his vision,her fiery accusations still ringing in his ears. He had come for art,yet all he could think about was the woman who had dared to challengehim. She had been a beacon of defiance in a room full ofobsequiousness; a stark contrast to the polished veneers surroundinghim.

Ignoring the murmurs of the crowd, heapproached the Renoir, considering the delicate brushstrokes with adetachment that belied his inner turmoil. Art had always been arefuge, a place where he could lose himself in beauty and forget thechaos outside. But tonight, even Renoir's masterful strokes could notsoothe him.

Jackson and Jason were around somewhere,catering to the crowds. The two men were more than associates. Theywere friends and belonged to the same club. He did not need them todecide on which pieces he wanted.

If it had not been for this desire to picksomething up, he would have gone off to the club for the weekend andnot had the displeasure of having an encounter with Ms. Bennett. Thethought of her brought a scowl to his brow and had him brushing off abusiness associate who was looking to him for conversation.

He was not in the mood and damned the womanfor destroying his evening. Sucking in a breath, he wandered over toa section that was not so crowded with patrons. He knew what hewanted. Had a vision and an eye for details. The apartment buildinghad been written up in several magazines and taken a lot of his time.But he did not mind it one bit.

Strolling over to a lovelywhimsical-looking glass vase, he picked it up and studied the sheerlines. The glass was so transparent, he could see his fingers throughit. Itwas a swirl of colors,ranging from blue to green and with a touch of bronze. It wasbreathtaking, he mused.

"I had my eye on it." Thefamiliar voice had him turning his head. Liam Moses was anotherassociate and member of his club.

"My darling would love to add it toher collections."

"I have every respect for thebeautiful Mrs. Moses, but not enough to just hand it over. I haveplans for this particular piece."

"I did say I saw it first," hepointed out.

"No. You said you had your eye on it.You should have scooped it up when you had the chance."

"You're a cold son of a bitch,"Liam murmured amiably. "I believe I will take myself off to findsomething else for the love of my life. I am in desperate need for atrinket, expensive enough and lovely enough that says: 'I am sorry ashell'"

Jack slid him an amused glance as hebeckoned to the owner of the gallery who came forward eagerly.

"Please put this with the others,"he ordered before turning back to Liam.

"What did you do?"

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