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I pause to think. A few months ago I would have been excited, both at the thought of meeting Gertrude Weyland, and by the fact that she was Jack’s mother. I’d love to meet the woman, but with Jack? I’m not sure.
However, considering it against the bleak hours I have stretched out in front of me, filled with the memories of Landon that I can’t escape, it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.
I sigh. “When?”
“Tomorrow evening.” He looks grateful. “Or the day after. I’ve stayed away this long. What’s a few more days?”
WE spend the rest of the evening talking about stuff from the office. To my relief, Jack doesn’t venture back into the territory of exploring his feelings for me, whatever they are. It’s almost like old times, except somehow, it’s obvious that we both have a lot on our minds.
When I’m ready to leave, Jack helps me find a cab. In the rearview mirror, I see him standing on the curb watching the cab silently, and the image makes me inexplicably sad.
My phone vibrates, and I fish it out of my bag. There is an alert is for one of my many reminders, and also two missed calls, from Landon.
My breath catches. I stare at his name on the screen, my stomach knotting hard. First his appearance this morning, and now phone calls. It all points to one thing, that he’s as reluctant to let me go as he was when he convinced me to go with him to San Francisco.
The thought is as alarming as it is exciting. A wave of anticipation and expectation floods over my skin, almost sexual in the effect it has on me. I close my eyes and lock the screen before tossing the phone back into my bag, and searching for other things to crowd my head with. Work, even Jack. Everything is safer than thinking about Landon.
The cabbie leaves me outside my apartment building, and a couple of people walk past me, talking and laughing, probably on their way to one of the many clubs on the next street. One of the guys whistles at me, but I ignore him and he goes back to laughing with his friends. I’m about to head for the doors when something catches my attention across the tree-lined street.
The silver Jaguar is parked directly opposite from where I’m standing. The same spot Landon parked the night he came over and called me from his car. A tremor moves slowly up my spine, especially when the pleasurable memories from that night flood my head. It could be anyone, I tell myself, my eyes still on the familiar car. There were probably hundreds of silver jaguars in my neighborhood alone.
But it is Landon.
I watch him step out of the car, his unmistakable lithe form circling around it until he’s standing directly opposite me on the other side of the street. He’s wearing a dark sweatshirt and jeans. At first glance, apart from his searing hotness, he doesn’t look much different from any of the new grads in my neighborhood. But when he moves, there’s something in the way he carries himself, something that points to the fact that beyond the wavy dark-gold hair, the beautifully sculpted face, and the sexy frame, there’s the enigmatic and powerful man beneath, the billionaire owner of the Swanson Court hotels.
What does he want now?
I stand there frozen. We’re looking at each other, silent, but my heart is pounding, my skin heating, my whole body drowning with painful longing. How am I supposed to get over him when just the sight of him renders me confused, aching, and full of desire?
Angry with myself, and with him for making me feel so helpless, I turn around sharply, stalking towards the entrance to my building.
“Rachel,” I hear him call, but I don’t answer. I’m too angry and afraid of what will happen if I let him come too close.
With a few long strides, he catches up to me at the door.
“For God’s sake Rachel. Why are you running?”
I don’t look at him, but I can feel him, so close. His whole body is like a magnet, pulling me helplessly towards him. My hands are shaking, the aching hole in my heart widening painfully. I close my eyes, willing myself to be strong. I want to reach for his face and kiss him, I want to press my body to his and feel the way he wants me. My head fills with possibilities and images, of both of us, bodies entwined, in his car, maybe, or upstairs in my bed.
I try to breathe, and to dispel the erotic images from my mind, before turning to face him. “Maybe because you seem to be stalking me,” I reply, my voice surprisingly steady.
His beautiful lips move in something like a smile, and yearning floods my chest. I can’t do this, I realize. I want him too much. “Landon.” My voice is a whisper. “You should leave.”
“Why?” There is so much to the question. I don’t know how to reply, so I don’t. He makes an exasperated sound in his throat. “How was yourdate?” he asks bitterly.
“You came all the way over here to ask me that?” I pause, “or to make sure I didn’t end up in Jack’s bed? That’s why you called earlier isn’t it? To make sure that even though I was with him, I wouldn’t forget about you?” I fold my arms and glare at him. “Because you’re what? Jealous?”
My outburst seems to amuse Landon. He leans towards me. “Of course I am,” he whispers.
His face is so close, his vibrant eyes, his incredibly sensuous mouth. I lick my lips, an involuntary movement that he doesn’t miss. His eyes follow the motion with a fierce hunger that draws a reaction from my core. I close my eyes and breathe. He doesn’t feel the same way you feel about him, I tell myself desperately. He’ll never love you the way you want him to.
“Go away,” I whisper.
He moves even closer. “No.”
I look away from his face, reaching into my bag with one hand to fumble for my keys while pushing the outer door open with the other. Landon reaches out to hold the door for me and follows me inside the vestibule. In the small space, his proximity is harder to ignore. I find my keys and lift them to the lock on the inner door, but my hand is shaking so badly, I can hardly get them to fit.
He reaches for my hand and takes the keys from me, unlocking the door and gesturing for me to go in. I step into the lobby, tensing when he follows me.
