Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)

Larissa and Francine went to the elevator bank and rode up. Larissa pressed her hand to her stomach and tried to hold in nerves. Because with everything that had been happening, she hadn’t had time to think about what Jack had said. I’m going to help you get over me.

Did that mean what she thought it meant? It had to. She had told him she wanted to have sex with him in her effort to get over being in love with him. At the time the words had probably made sense, but she was less sure now. He was everything she wanted. The possibility of not loving him seemed impossible.

But that was a problem for another time. Tonight she was going to enjoy everything as it came. She had a fabulous new look and she was going to have dinner with the man of her dreams. That was enough for now.

Francine led her down an elegant hallway. They stopped in front of wide double doors and Francine let her inside.

“Enjoy your stay,” she said.

“Thank you.”

She went inside.

Her first impression was of space. There were sofas and chairs, all done in taupes and beiges. On one side of the room was a baby grand piano, which was so over-the-top, she started to laugh. Through glass doors was a terrace about three times the size of her apartment back home. She could see a private dining room and at the other end of the room was the bedroom.

It was too much, she thought, dazed by all she was seeing. And it was exactly what Jack would do to seduce her.

She heard a sound and turned. The man of the hour stood just outside the bedroom. He wore a dark suit with a white shirt and red tie. He looked good. Better than good. The laughter faded, replaced by a sense of her world being made right. Even nicer was his wide-eyed appreciation as he stared at her.

“Larissa,” he breathed. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He started toward her, so tall and strong. Her heart fluttered just a little.

“Great dress,” he told her. “You make it shine.”

He took her hand and lightly kissed her knuckles, then led her into the dining room where a bottle of champagne waited in an ice bucket. Next to it were two Tiffany boxes.

“Don’t get too excited,” he told her. “These are on loan.”

“You can do that?”

“I know people.”

She’d bought his goodbye gifts to his various girlfriends for years now and, per his request, always shopped at Tiffany. She knew the beauty of the selection and loved how her favorite associate always made her feel special. She was used to the sparkle, the elegance, the perfect presentation. What she wasn’t used to was seeing a diamond necklace that nearly blinded and was probably worth as much as the GDP of California.

“Oh, my.”

He put it on her, then handed her the matching earrings. The style was simple. A single row of diamonds with a diamond-studded X-shaped clasp. But the size, the clarity, the sheer brilliance was enough to make her rethink her philosophy that she wasn’t the least bit interested in jewelry.

“You’re allowed a night off,” Jack said, turning her so she could see herself in the mirror. His gaze met hers. “There is a second bedroom attached to this suite,” he told her. “I want you to have a good time. But at the end of the night, if you’ve changed your mind, that’s where I’ll sleep.”

“I’ll never change my mind,” she told him as she turned and faced him. A statement that was also a challenge, she thought.

Ever smooth Jack simply smiled. “My kind of woman,” he told her as he handed her a glass of champagne.

They settled on the sofa. Jack pulled out a remote and started the music, then they toasted each other.

“Impressive,” she said after she’d taken a sip. “No wonder you have women lining up to date you.”

He chuckled. “This isn’t what I usually do for a date. I’m more the dinner-and-a-movie type.”

Which meant this was especially for her? She hoped so.

She smoothed the front of her dress. “When we get home, I want to talk to Taryn about her castoffs. I never got the whole designer clothes thing before, but I’m starting to see the appeal. This feels really nice.”

“It looks better than it feels.”

“You can’t know that.”

His smile was slow and sexy. “Yeah, I can. So tell me about the chiweenies.”

The change in topic caught her off guard. “What do you want to know?”

“What are they?”

“A Chihuahua-dachshund mix. So not purebreds. They’re cute and have good characteristics of both breeds. I guess that’s what makes them popular.”

“And a breeding program had gotten out of hand?”

She nodded. “I can see how it would happen. Someone who doesn’t have the experience thinks it might be fun and moves forward. Then a couple of years later, there are too many dogs and not enough buyers.”

“Like the people who think a baby alligator would be fun and then it grows?”

“Right, but I don’t think chiweenies endanger as many chickens.”

“We’re all against chicken death.”