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Grandma hadn’t mentioned that!
‘We got talking. Your grandmother asked me if I’d be interested in catering her birthday dinner. And...’ He shrugged.
It took every last muscle she had not to dissolve in the warmth of his eyes. The heat between them was as blistering as ever. She gripped her hands together. It would be a bad idea. Becoming lovers with this man would make her miserable.
You’re already miserable.
She tossed her head and hardened her heart. ‘And...?’ she persisted.
‘And I found I couldn’t refuse.’
She would not be his consolation prize.
She opened her mouth, a set-down on her lips, but Mac had turned away to rifle in a basket.
He turned back with a handful of squirming fluffy puppy, wearing a pink and green bow around its neck. ‘Happy birthday, Lucinda.’
‘Oh, my word. Edith will have a fit!’ Her grandmother clapped her hands in delight. ‘Thank you, Malcolm, what a lovely gift.’
Jo tried to prevent her eyes from starting from her head.
‘And this one here is for you, Jo. I’ve called her Beauty.’
He placed the puppy in her arms and she had to close her eyes as his familiar scent hit her and the warmth of his voice threatened to cast a spell about her.
She took a step away from him. Liking each other had never been their problem. It was only logical that he’d still like her as much as he ever had—want her as much as he ever had. What wasn’t logical was her instant response to him, given all that had happened—or not happened—between them.
It had been two months. She shouldn’t love him as much now as she had then. She wanted to weep, only it filled her with so much joy to see him.
You’ll pay for it tomorrow.
Her eyes stung. She moved further away from him, from all the temptation and remembered pain, to perch on an armchair with her sweet, sleepy puppy.
‘Believe it or not...’
She couldn’t help but glance up.
‘Bandit has been pining for you.’
Only Bandit? She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’
On the other side of the room her grandmother cooed over her puppy. Beauty snuggled down on Jo’s lap, taking the base of Jo’s thumb into her mouth as if determined to keep a hold of her. Jo covered her body with her free hand to let her know she was loved.
‘The moment you left she set up a whine that turned into a howl.’
Truly? She gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa opposite, but he didn’t move from where he stood. He all but devoured her with his hot, hungry gaze. She rolled her shoulders and swallowed.
‘She hasn’t forgiven me yet for letting you leave.’
Jo would. Forgive him, that was. If he said he was sorry and asked her to return with him she would. In an instant
No! That would be a bad thing, remember? She had a life. She’d have a new job soon. She had a puppy.
But she didn’t have Mac.
You can’t have everything.
She lifted her chin. ‘Good for her.’ She was not going to sacrifice her life to a man intent on sacrificing his own life to guilt and regret.
‘How’s Ethan?’ It was a nasty little dart, but they both needed to remember why they couldn’t be together.
‘He’s doing okay. I left him and Diana out at the beach house.’
He’d what?
Her jaw dropped. The puppy let out a yelp and with a start Jo relaxed her grip and bent to soothe it. She stroked it back to sleep, its fat little tummy and its utter trust weakening something inside her.
‘How...?’ she whispered when she finally dared to look at him. ‘How did that come about?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘Well, shoot—look at the time? Lucinda, you’d better point me in the direction of the kitchen if I’m to serve you at seven on the dot.’
He went out to his car, returning with two laden baskets filled with the most intriguing-looking ingredients.
He grinned at Jo. ‘I understand you’re my kitchen hand?’
She tried to smile back, but couldn’t. ‘Yay,’ she said weakly instead.
‘Buck up, Jo. All I want you to do is assemble a macaron tower.’
That was the problem. Mac didn’t want her for anything more substantial. Her fingers curled against her palms. Why had her grandmother hired him? And, more to the point, why had Mac agreed to it?
They settled the puppies in their baskets in the laundry. Mac unpacked his groceries. Jo washed her hands and set about icing two plastic cones.
Mac glanced at them. ‘Why two?’
He’d come up so close behind her his breath raised all the fine hairs at her nape. She wanted him to kiss her. She ached with it. But he hadn’t given her so much as a kiss on the cheek, and that spoke volumes.
