Once upon a time he’d loved to play in the rain, but over the years, as he’d focused more and more on his invention—with only the occasional break for a fast car or a pretty woman—he’d lost sight of those pleasures.
After everyone else ran for cover, Jack and Mary were the only two people left on the sidewalk. It felt, for a moment, as if the city was entirely theirs.
He reached out his hand for her again. “Dance with me.”
She immediately turned into his arms as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. They might not be Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds, but neither of them cared as they danced. No other woman had felt so right in his arms, and none had laughed with such joy in them, either.
“No one has ever danced with me in the rain before.” Mary had the same look of soft surprise in her eyes as she had after their kiss under the mistletoe.
“‘This California dew is just a little heavier than usual tonight.’”
“You’ve seen the movie?” She looked delighted by the discovery that he knew it well enough to quote from the scene right before Don Lockwood went out to sing and dance in the rain.
“My mother was a big fan.” And, boy, was he glad that she’d taken him to the theater as a ten-year-old boy and made him watch it. In retrospect, the dance lessons hadn’t been a bad idea, either.
Jack had meant it when he’d told her he was going to try to respect Mary’s wishes to keep things professional between them until they were done working together. But as they stood together in the rain, kissing her again was inevitable. They were both leaning in toward each other when the rain abruptly stopped falling and dozens of people suddenly emerged from the overhangs and bumped the two of them apart.
“I’m just around the corner.” Mary pointed to a building a few yards away. When they got to the bottom step, she immediately offered, “Why don’t you come in and warm up with a cup of coffee?”
Jack badly wanted to spend more time with her, but he couldn’t live with himself if he wasn’t completely honest with her. “There’s nothing I’d like more, Mary. But you have to know, I can’t stop thinking about that kiss in the bar…or how much I want another one.”
He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d taken back her invitation at that point. Instead, her gaze dropped to his lips, and he knew she was being just as honest when she said, “Me, too.” Tearing her eyes from his mouth, she shook her head. “Coffee. We’re just going to have coffee.” She softened the blow with a smile, then led them up the stairs.
Both of them were wet from the rain, and he had a sudden flash of making love with her in a warm rain, skin slick from the heat of their bodies, her damp hand sliding into his, that beautiful smile on her face as he kissed every inch of her until she was begging for him to take her.
Jack was surprised to hear several young female voices when Mary opened the door and stepped aside to let him in. She explained in a low voice, “I’m an informal den mother to several young models while they’re working in San Francisco. It’s a very exciting and sometimes scary lifestyle to be thrown into, especially for girls who may never have left home before now. Basically, I promise their mothers that I’ll make sure they eat enough, don’t date indiscriminately, and put on something warm when they go out.”
He’d seen how much she’d loved holding the toddler who had rushed onto the set the previous afternoon. With an amused shake of her head, she picked up a stray scarf and hat belonging to one of her modeling charges. She would, he thought now, be an amazing mother one day. Loving but without holding on too tightly. Strict but fair.
Jack’s brother Max had a toddler with another on the way, but Jack had never thought about becoming a parent himself. Not, he was stunned to realize, until this very moment.
Chapter Six
“Mary, you’re soaked!” Janeen was a beautiful twenty-year-old blonde model with legs that went on forever. Her eyes widened even further when she saw Jack standing behind Mary. “Well, hello there.” The girl’s voice had immediately dropped into a husky register as she slunk forward and thrust her hand into Jack’s. “I’m Janeen.”
More than a little disgusted with herself for feeling any jealousy at all where Jack and the girls were concerned, Mary went to grab a couple of dry towels from the linen closet while her housemates finished introducing themselves. By the time she returned to the large, open-plan living and kitchen area, they had Jack in a captive circle of their youth and beauty.
In her experience, even the nicest man couldn’t resist three pretty girls fawning over him, so it wouldn’t have been fair for Mary to expect Jack to not look at them with some appreciation, at the very least. But when she said, “Why don’t I trade you this towel for your coat?” and Yvette boldly stepped forward to help him peel it off, Mary couldn’t see even one trace of lust on his face for the stunning redhead. Only laughter when the wet fabric caught on his watch clasp.
At least until he turned his gaze back to Mary and took the towel she was offering. She’d also taken off her jacket and was standing in front of him in her wet wrap dress. Just that quickly, the desire in his eyes was back.
But only for her.
“Jack is the engineer and inventor I was telling you girls about last night,” Mary explained.
“Mary is so lucky to get to work with you,” Susan said with a seductive toss of her curly black hair.
“My partners and I are the lucky ones.” He wiped his hair and face with the towel. In unison, the three young models all sighed over his gorgeously rumpled good looks.
Well, Mary thought as she barely held back her own sigh of appreciation, could she blame them? Jack really was that gorgeous, especially with his button-down shirt and slacks damp and clinging to his well-developed muscles. Clearly, he must not spend all of his time working.
People always asked Mary about her life because she was a celebrity, but she was just as interested in theirs. Journalist, waitress, mother, photographer, bus driver—they all had interesting stories to tell. What, she wondered, was the rest of Jack’s story? She guessed he was close to his family from what he’d told her at the diner, and she knew he was devoted to his work. But neither of those things explained the slight air of danger—and risk—that he wore so easily. He hadn’t been at all intimidated by the bigwigs in the boardroom.
“If you need any other models for your campaign,” Yvette offered with her most alluring smile, “you know where to find us.”