Lovechild

At the sound of his voice, Liza opened her eyes immediately. Her body tense, she tightened her fingers around the handle of her briefcase.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she said quickly.

Moments later when the elevator doors opened, she raced through them and out into the lobby.

“Liza, wait.”

She kept moving down the polished corridor, eager to reach the parking garage elevator and escape Jacques and the rush of memories plaguing her.

He gripped her arm, bringing her to a halt. Gently, too gently, he caught her chin and forced her to look at him. “What is wrong? Why do you run from me?”

“I’m not running from you,” she lied. “I have a headache, and I’m just anxious to get home.”

He hesitated, and Liza grew uncomfortable under his probing gaze. “Then I will take you home.” Still holding on to her arm, he took her briefcase from her and continued toward the parking garage elevators.

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not necessary.”

“You are ill.”

“I have a headache,” she said, and tugged her arm free. “I promise you I can manage. Besides, I don’t live in the city. ‘Home’ is more than an hour’s drive outside of Chicago.”

“I do not mind the drive.”

“But I do.”

“I will see you to your car,” he insisted, following her into the garage elevator despite her protests.

“That really isn’t necessary.”

“I said I will see you to your car. Which floor?”

Under the harsh lighting of the elevator, his roughly hewed features and dark gold hair reminded her of a Viking warrior. The fact that he towered over her own considerable height only added to the image. But it was the determination in his leonine gaze that made her decide it was pointless to argue further. She punched the number three for her parking level.

Moments later when the doors opened, Liza stepped out into the cold, shadowed garage. Jacques walked beside her, his silence making her even more anxious. Finally she reached the dark blue sedan. “Well, this is it,” she said with more cheerfulness than she was feeling. After unlocking her car and allowing him to store her briefcase on the back seat, she turned to him. “Well, thanks again.”

“Aren’t you at least going to offer me a ride?”

“But I thought... What about your car?”

His mouth kicked up at the corners in what she had always considered his lady-killer grin. “I do not have one. Peter had someone meet me at the airport when I arrived this morning, and I took a taxi to the meeting. I have not yet called the rental agency.”

Liza narrowed her eyes. “And I suppose there’s a reason you can’t take another taxi now?”

“Perhaps I am still the struggling artist with big dreams and little money.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

The smile in his eyes died. So did the one on his lips. “No. It is not. I have done well since our time together in New Orleans. Perhaps if my fortunes had come sooner, you would not have chosen to leave me as you did.”

The words hurt, as did the bitterness she detected behind them, but Liza didn’t bother to deny his accusations. It was better he thought she had deserted him because of his lack of money than for him to know the truth.

“Now it seems fate has brought us together again. I am looking forward to working with you on this fund-raiser.”

Panic shot through her at his words. Liza’s gaze shot up to meet his. “Why are you doing this, Jacques? What are you up to?”

“Ah. I see you are still a suspicious soul.” Instead of the underlying bitterness she had detected moments earlier, she glimpsed an intensity in him that she found far more disturbing. “Surely two old friends such as you and I can work together.”

“We were lovers, Jacques. Not friends.”

“Yes. And you were a spectacular lover, ma chérie.” He moved a step closer, caging her between the car door and his body. He skimmed his thumb along the line of her cheek, across her bottom lip. “So responsive.”

Liza shivered, unable to quell her reaction to his touch, unable to look away.

“Did you think I had forgotten?” he asked, his voice rough with some emotion she couldn’t decipher. “I wanted to. God knows I tried to forget you. But I could not. Just as I cannot stop myself from wanting you now.” Heat flared in his eyes, turning them to molten gold.

And then he was lowering his head, his mouth was brushing hers, testing, tasting, tempting. His tongue traced the lines of her lips. “Open for me, Liza.”

She obeyed his command, parting her lips.

Jacques groaned. The deep husky sound sent a shudder through her. When his tongue slid inside her mouth and began an erotic mating ritual with her own, Liza heard the moan of pleasure escape from her own lips.

And then she was beyond hearing, beyond thinking. All she could do was feel. She clung to his shoulders, her head spinning as wave after wave of need lapped at her greedily, demanding more.

“Ah, Liza,” he murmured as his mouth forged its way to her ear and then retraced the path back to reclaim her lips. Despite the cold temperature and threat of new snow, she was burning up inside, her body suffused with heat.

Jacques captured her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. She could see the desire burning in his eyes and feared he would see it in hers as well.

“It is still there. The fire between us. Nothing has changed, Liza. Nothing.”

Reality came back to her in a rush as the impact of his words registered. When he started to kiss her again, Liza turned her head away. “You’re wrong, Jacques. Everything has changed.”

“Has it?”

“Yes.”

“I do not think so, ma chérie. Let me prove it to you.”

“No!”

Something dark and dangerous flashed in his eyes. For a moment she thought he would ignore her. Then he dropped his arms and stepped back.

Still shaky, Liza turned her back to him and opened the car door. “If you still want a ride to your hotel, get in.” She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Once he was strapped in the seat beside her, she asked, “Where are you staying?”

“At Peter and Aimee’s apartment. It is on—”

“I know where it is,” Liza told him. After all, she had often used the place herself during the past three years. In fact, she had already accepted Aimee’s offer to use the guest room on the evening of the patron party and the black-tie gala next month. Of course that would no longer be an option, Liza realized as she maneuvered her car along the snow-lined streets. She would just have to make other arrangements. But having a convenient place to stay while she was in Chicago was the least of her worries now.