were a package. How could she? It wasn"t even right of him to ask. Of course, he was risking his career too, and she knew his work meant a lot to him. But, dammit, he Genetic Attraction
87
was a man, and the world forgave men a lot more than it was likely to forgive a woman. A Nobel Prize wasn"t completely out of the question. But who would give prizes to a woman who slept in the same bed as her much younger research associate and his gay lover—she smiled a little—and enjoyed the hell out of it?
She dragged herself out of bed. Okay, how professional could she look on forty-five minutes of sleep? A shower, ponytail, and swipe of lipstick seemed harder than mountain climbing, so that was the best she could do. She licked the last bit of yogurt from its container, pointed her Prius down the expressway, stopped for coffee, and then headed toward the lab. Outside the office door, she took a deep breath. What could she say to Jake? She had no fucking idea. Automatically, she grabbed the door handle and walked inside.
Mary looked up from her desk, a crease of concern between her pretty brows.
“Em, Jake called in sick.”
They just stared at each other. In two years, he"d never had a sick day.
Em tried to smile. “Well, I guess he"s entitled to one.”
Mary shook her head, her flaxen braid bouncing down her back. “We both know something"s wrong with Jake. He"s been like a different person for more than a week now. I don"t get it. He gets passionate on subjects, but I"ve never seen him moody. What"s up?”
Good question. She knew Mary felt the tension between her and Jake and was asking for an explanation, but she wasn"t going there. She shrugged. “I hope he"s okay.” She headed back to her office feeling like someone had punched her in the stomach—or the heart. She closed her office door and leaned against it. Shit, shit, shit, as Jake would say. Her cell phone buzzed with a text message. She grabbed it.
Em darling—I’m working in the city this weekend. Please, please come and see me. We need to talk. Saturday afternoon. We’ll have dinner. I love you—Roan Below the message was listed an address on the upper West Side, a photographer"s studio.
88
Tara Lain
An intelligent, sensible woman would have a moment"s hesitation. She would consider the consequences of deeper involvement when she knew what they wanted was impossible. Her fingers flew over the keys.
I’ll be there. I love you too—Em
* * *
“So, you"re going to see her tomorrow?”
“Yes. She texted me right back.” He smiled. “She said she loved me.”
He watched Jake pace to the door of their bedroom and then turned back to his packing, his garment bag laid out on the big bed. He was headed for a hotel in the city while his New York apartment was being painted. And it was probably a good thing he was going away, since he got pissed looking at his lover.
Jake looked miserable, which he should. “I"ll bet she doesn"t love me after the way I treated her last night.”
“Maybe she doesn"t, and it would serve you right.”
Jake looked up at Roan, startled, because they were seldom harsh with each other. “I was bad, huh?”
“Shit yeah, you were. You had no business going to that party to begin with.”
“But I wanted to see her.”
“Dammit, Jake, you see her every day at work. You wanted to spy on her.”
“But you should have seen her simpering over that fucking history professor…”
“Jake! We may hate that guy, but he"s her age, and he"s eligible, and he doesn"t happen to have any extra baggage like a gay lover . If she wants to be with him, she will. And you treating her the way you did, fucking her, and then yelling at her and accusing her… Shit, I may not know much about women, but I sure as hell know that"s not the way to win her.”
His lover looked defeated and crumpled onto the bed. “I know, baby. Jesus, I"m so sorry. I know I blew it, but I"m just not altogether rational about that
87
was a man, and the world forgave men a lot more than it was likely to forgive a woman. A Nobel Prize wasn"t completely out of the question. But who would give prizes to a woman who slept in the same bed as her much younger research associate and his gay lover—she smiled a little—and enjoyed the hell out of it?
She dragged herself out of bed. Okay, how professional could she look on forty-five minutes of sleep? A shower, ponytail, and swipe of lipstick seemed harder than mountain climbing, so that was the best she could do. She licked the last bit of yogurt from its container, pointed her Prius down the expressway, stopped for coffee, and then headed toward the lab. Outside the office door, she took a deep breath. What could she say to Jake? She had no fucking idea. Automatically, she grabbed the door handle and walked inside.
Mary looked up from her desk, a crease of concern between her pretty brows.
“Em, Jake called in sick.”
They just stared at each other. In two years, he"d never had a sick day.
Em tried to smile. “Well, I guess he"s entitled to one.”
Mary shook her head, her flaxen braid bouncing down her back. “We both know something"s wrong with Jake. He"s been like a different person for more than a week now. I don"t get it. He gets passionate on subjects, but I"ve never seen him moody. What"s up?”
Good question. She knew Mary felt the tension between her and Jake and was asking for an explanation, but she wasn"t going there. She shrugged. “I hope he"s okay.” She headed back to her office feeling like someone had punched her in the stomach—or the heart. She closed her office door and leaned against it. Shit, shit, shit, as Jake would say. Her cell phone buzzed with a text message. She grabbed it.
Em darling—I’m working in the city this weekend. Please, please come and see me. We need to talk. Saturday afternoon. We’ll have dinner. I love you—Roan Below the message was listed an address on the upper West Side, a photographer"s studio.
88
Tara Lain
An intelligent, sensible woman would have a moment"s hesitation. She would consider the consequences of deeper involvement when she knew what they wanted was impossible. Her fingers flew over the keys.
I’ll be there. I love you too—Em
* * *
“So, you"re going to see her tomorrow?”
“Yes. She texted me right back.” He smiled. “She said she loved me.”
He watched Jake pace to the door of their bedroom and then turned back to his packing, his garment bag laid out on the big bed. He was headed for a hotel in the city while his New York apartment was being painted. And it was probably a good thing he was going away, since he got pissed looking at his lover.
Jake looked miserable, which he should. “I"ll bet she doesn"t love me after the way I treated her last night.”
“Maybe she doesn"t, and it would serve you right.”
Jake looked up at Roan, startled, because they were seldom harsh with each other. “I was bad, huh?”
“Shit yeah, you were. You had no business going to that party to begin with.”
“But I wanted to see her.”
“Dammit, Jake, you see her every day at work. You wanted to spy on her.”
“But you should have seen her simpering over that fucking history professor…”
“Jake! We may hate that guy, but he"s her age, and he"s eligible, and he doesn"t happen to have any extra baggage like a gay lover . If she wants to be with him, she will. And you treating her the way you did, fucking her, and then yelling at her and accusing her… Shit, I may not know much about women, but I sure as hell know that"s not the way to win her.”
His lover looked defeated and crumpled onto the bed. “I know, baby. Jesus, I"m so sorry. I know I blew it, but I"m just not altogether rational about that
Similar Books
