Home > Kissing Under The Mistletoe (The Sullivans #10)(47)

Kissing Under The Mistletoe (The Sullivans #10)(47)
Author: Bella Andre

Throughout the hours, Jack continued to hold on to her hand. She wondered, did he realize how much he touched her as he spoke? Her face, her hair, his forehead pressed against hers as they laughed together. He was so free with his affection, so unafraid of giving too much.

She’d learned so much from him already—not only how to love, but what forgiveness looked like.

A familiar pang resounded within her chest as she thought about her mother…and how happy she would be to see an engagement ring on her daughter’s finger, at last. Of course, Mary knew that her mother would be even happier about the man her daughter was marrying. Jack was such a good man. Such a solid man.

Such a beautiful man, inside and out.

Tonight. She’d call home tonight with the good news. And even if her mother still wasn’t ready to forgive, Mary told herself it would be enough just to know their engagement was the news her mother had longed to hear.

When the last journalist finally left the boardroom, Jack’s eyes were warm as he smiled at her. “We should probably make a run for it before Allen scrounges up another twenty journalists.”

They gathered their coats, and she felt like a little girl again, trying to sneak out of her room to play when she was supposed to be taking a nap.

Mary was used to this kind of intense photo-and-interview schedule, but considering it was all new for Jack, she thought he’d held up remarkably well. Especially considering the big launch was the following day, and Mary knew it would be even busier. But Mary had no problem with hard work, especially when the man she loved would be reaping the rewards.

Allen caught them both before they could escape out the side door. “You two were marvelous today. I’m very happy for both of you. And I’ll admit to being rather pleased that your engagement is a PR dream come true,” he added with a grin.

Earlier that morning, Allen’s words would have driven fear through every part of her. But not anymore. Not now that she finally believed that the love she and Jack shared was real.

“I’d love to take both of you out to dinner, if you’re not too tired from the interviews,” Allen offered.

Mary appreciated the offer, but after giving a long day to the campaign, what she wanted was to be alone with Jack tonight before they started all over again tomorrow morning with the launch-day festivities. Because while they’d made up after she’d thrown the ring at him, she very much wanted to show him with more than words how sorry she was for ever doubting his love…and that she never would again.

“Thanks for the invitation, Allen,” Jack said, “but I’m going to take Mary home so she can rest up a bit before tomorrow. And thanks again for getting behind the Pocket Planner in such a major way. We’ll see you bright and early at the launch.”

Even though Mary was easily strong enough to keep from being swept away by a powerful man, she was thrilled to let Jack lead her out of the building, his large hand on the small of her back.

He hailed a cab outside the corporate offices and when he slid in beside her, she couldn’t wait another second to do what she’d been longing to do since the moment Jack had slid the ring back on her finger. Putting her hands on his gorgeously scruffy jaw, she brought his face down to hers and kissed him. Despite the cold, his lips were warm and more delicious every time she tasted them.

“I love you.” She whispered the words against his lips between kisses, and he whispered them right back.

They couldn’t get to her house fast enough. She wanted to be as close as she could to Jack. She wanted to strip off his clothes and then her own and wrap herself all around him…and never, ever let go.

They paid the taxi and then kissed their way up her front steps, navigating by feel alone. Somehow she was able to find her key in her purse, without breaking apart from him, and open the door.

The second they were inside and alone, Jack pushed her back against the door and slid both his hands into her hair. Their earlier kisses had set her heart racing and her blood pumping in the taxi and on the sidewalk and steps.

But this kiss lit a fuse in her very soul.

During each photo they’d taken and during every interview they’d given today, she’d been dreaming of falling into bed with Jack. But there was no way they were going to make it that far.

She raked her hands over his broad chest to tear open the buttons on his shirt, and his hand slipped up her thigh to undo the clasp on her garters. Every touch, every gasp of pleasure as bare skin met bare skin, was absolutely perfect. Especially when Jack began kissing his way from her mouth, across her jaw to her neck and into the hollow behind her collarbone. She was tilting her head back to give him better access when her phone rang.

“Damn it,” he growled against her skin, letting go of her to snatch the phone out of its cradle. “I told you, Mary is done working for the night.” But listening to the person on the other end of the line had his expression changing in an instant. “Hold on a moment.” He covered the mouthpiece and held out his free hand to her. “I think it’s your father.” Concern furrowed his brow. “He sounds upset.”

Mary’s heart dropped into her stomach and her skin, which had been so warm just seconds before, was suddenly ice cold.

“Papa?”

Her father’s words came out in a rush of anguish. She worked to stay calm to listen to the details, then told her father in Italian, “I’m coming right away on the night flight from San Francisco. I will be home tomorrow.”

The phone would have fallen from her numb hand had Jack not taken it from her.

“My mother is sick. Papa was calling from the hospital.” Mary pressed her hands to her churning stomach. “She’s never sick. Never.” Her father hadn’t stayed on the line long enough to tell her much other than that her mother had been coughing so badly that he’d decided to take her to the hospital. “I need to go to her. To them. Tonight.”

She started to move toward her bedroom to pack, but her legs were trembling so hard that when Jack brought her over to the couch and made her sit, she didn’t try to fight him.

He knelt in front of her. “First, I’m going to get you a drink to steady your nerves, and then I’m going to book our flight and pack your bag.”

Again, she was too shell-shocked to argue, to do anything but accept the glass of whisky he handed her a few seconds later. But just as she was lifting it to her mouth with a shaky hand, she realized what he’d said: Our flight.

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