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"And I can hazard a guess as to the why." Jerri glanced over at the people milling around and gazing at the paintings on the walls. "We could use Jackson's office."
"Where is your very talented husband?"
"In one of the rooms with Andrea." Jerri tucked a hand through Delores' arm and gave her a quick look as they wound their way through the throng of people. "Has she agreed to sign on with you?"
"Still negotiating. She is a hot ticket."
"All the more reason to snatch her." Jerri opened the door to a cozy, chaotic space with paintings stacked against the walls. Turning on the lamp on the desk, Jerri made room for her on one of the chairs and sat next to her. "Woo me."
Delores gave a quick, breathless laugh as she stared at the lovely plus-sized woman who had captured Jackson's heart and changed his way of thinking. Jerri wore an emerald green gown, the gauzy material flattering her voluptuous frame.
Her natural hair was pinned on top of her head, and she was wearing diamonds, big stones in her ears, around her throat, and at her left wrist. "You have given the idea some thought, then?"
"A little-" She shook her head with a wry smile. "More than a little. I discussed it with Jackson, and he is trying to get me to go ahead. 'I am in the limelight and going ahead with a book being written about me; why should I be the only one to suffer?'"
"Sounds very much like your husband," Delores said with a laugh.
"If I go ahead with this, who would you get to help me with it?"
Delores felt a quick surge of excitement at that. "We have several ghostwriters on the payroll who are very good. It would not just be a recipe book, with pictures of you explaining what you do; it would also be a combination of your life with Jackson."
She shook her head. "I am not certain I like that angle. I try to keep our children out of the limelight as much as possible, and mine and Jackson's personal lives are too precious to be put out there."
"Honey, you are famous in your fashion, and your husband is a worldwide sensation and continues to be. You cannot escape the publicity."
"I hate the damn publicity," Jerri admitted. "But I have grown accustomed to it as long as my children are not hounded. I want this book to be about my art, what I do; that is the only way I will agree to do it."
Delores nodded in understanding. "I just thought your love story, how you and Jackson came about, would make a delightful addition to the book."
Jerri smiled at that, dark brown eyes glowing. "He was such a big pain in the ass. I desperately needed a child because the window was closing, and I asked him because he did not want a relationship.
I thought he was going to donate his sperm, and when he told me he wanted it done the old-fashioned way, I freaked out. He was Jackson Colby, and some of me knew it would not be as cut and dried as I wanted."
"But you said yes." Delores prodded.
"I had no choice. I needed a baby, and he was the ideal candidate." Tears shimmered in the woman's eyes, sending a jolt to Delores' heart. "Never knowing what was going to happen." She reached out to take the younger woman's hand. "When you find the right person, you automatically know it."
"I am going to take your word for it."
Jerri searched her face curiously. "You think you are married to your career."
"I happen to love what I do. I make magic happen, turning a raw manuscript into something wonderful with readers glued to the pages. I make no apologies for being single and do not begrudge those who have found love."
"But you do not believe you will?"
Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I am not looking for it."
"That's when it is likely to happen. Now." Jerri's voice turned brisk. "Let's have lunch and discuss this some more." She glanced at her expensive watch with a start. "Jackson will scalp me if I don't get out there now."
"And I have Andrea to pin down."
Deacon was trapped between Jason Colby and another artist inside the large two-story gallery. He had a glass of champagne in his hand and was leaning on the rail and restlessly scanning the crowd gathered downstairs.
His date had gone off to look at the paintings, and he did not mind that one bit. Sylvie was getting on his nerves and clinging to his arm as if they were glued to each other. He needed the damn break.
When he saw her, he was about to lift the glass to his lips. Delores Pennant was unlike the woman he had seen twice in the past. She was wearing orange, so she stood out among the crowd, but that was not the only reason.
When she lifted her head to the tall, dark man by her side and laughed at something he whispered, he felt something roaring inside him. Lust, unbridled and unbounded, flooded his body like a tidal wave, and for a few minutes, he was spellbound as he stared at her.
