How To Succeed At Love

Jade’s heart was already sinking when she spotted the hand-lettered sign attached to Neal’s car. Welcome Home, Congressional Aide Jade Macleod. Climbing in the back seat, she quickly slammed the door.

True, Spencer Madison had done what she’d asked. He also proved he could think quickly on his feet. But did he have to look so damned pleased with himself while he did it? Well, he could eat worms for dinner for all she cared. And he could eat them alone. Reaching for the door lock, she jammed down the button. At that same moment the front car doors opened.

“Hey, sis, I’ll head out to the house first to drop you off,” Neal said, as he and his photographer climbed in. “Then I’ve got to get Casey and me back to the paper so I can have a look at these photos.”

Before Jade could respond, the back door opposite hers opened. “Moon River” was blaring into the car’s interior as Spencer Madison got in. His surprise entry had her lurching forward and reaching for her brother’s shoulder.

Without missing a beat, Neal continued. “Spencer said he was going to be staying over at the Maxwell, but I told him living in a hotel was crazy when we have all that room at the house. When he told me you two are working on that special project together, I said it only makes sense that you both should be near each other.”

Jade’s mouth dropped open as she turned to glare at Spencer. “What project?” she mouthed silently.

“That’s okay,” Spence said in a perfectly audible voice. “I haven’t mentioned the nature of Representative Bloomfield’s project.” He pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s still secret.”

Secret project? There was no secret project, she wanted to shout. But she couldn’t now that Casey was sitting in the front seat next to Neal. The fewer people that knew about this catastrophe, the better.

She slumped back in her seat as Neal tooted his horn then waved off the high school band that was circling the car. “Moon River” suddenly ended as the band members scattered out of the way.

“Their particular interpretation needs a tad more work,” Neal said as he started the car. Spencer and Casey agreed, as he turned on the radio and drove off. Channel surfing, he quickly landed on a station playing reggae music. “Yesss.” He turned up the volume. “Now that’s music.”

Jade checked her watch then inched closer to her door.

Without hesitation, Spencer stretched his arm over the back of her seat and leaned in close to her ear. “How’d I do?” he asked, his leg casually pressing against hers.

“Let’s put it this way. No matter what my brother promised, you’re not moving in with us. And you can forget about dinner,” she whispered, giving his knee a hearty shove. Hard muscle and bone bounced back against her own. “Get off me!” she seethed, thumping him harder this time.

Neal took that moment to glance in the rearview mirror. “Settle down back there, you kids,” he said, in his best imitation of their father’s voice. “Or, I swear, I’m turning this car around and we’re all going home.”

Coming off the seat, Jade grabbed onto her brother’s headrest and opened her mouth to speak. Casey took that moment to snap off a few more photos, momentarily blinding her with the flash.

“Thought I’d finish the roll,” she heard the girl say.

“Uh, uh,” Neal said, waving his finger in the air between the spots of light. “You’d better save that voice, sis. Mom and Dad are at the house waiting to hear all about how you’re straightening out those naughty politicians on Capitol Hill.”

Sinking back in her seat, she gave a whimper that was lost to everyone but Spencer in the reggae din. If they only knew how naughty.

“Don’t worry,” Spencer said, patting her shoulder. “I can get you through that, too.”

Two

“One night,” Jade said as she paced inside the west-wing bedroom, her fingers firmly pressed to her temples. “I can manage this for one night. All I have to do is come up with a logical explanation for getting rid of you tomorrow. Early.” She motioned emphatically with both hands. “Very early.

“In the meantime, you’re going to have to do exactly as I say. You’re not to go downstairs without me. You’re not to speak to anyone without me. And—”

“Nice place,” Spencer said, cutting her off with enough over-the-top enthusiasm to let her know he was not talking about the Hotel Maxwell.

Pointedly ignoring him, she went on. “And if I can figure out a good excuse for you to eat dinner up here, you’re going to—”

She froze in her tracks when he let loose with a long, spirited whistle. “What is it now?”

“Did you do that?” he asked, as he removed his wallet and tossed it on the bedside table.

Her annoyance was building with each heartbeat. If Spencer Madison was running for the Most Aggravating Person of the Year Award, she’d vote twice for him. She took a labored breath then let it out through her nose. “Did I do what?”

Shaking his head with genuine appreciation, he stared up at the hand-painted bluebirds and pink ribbons on the ceiling. “The mural.”

“And what if I did?”

“It’s damn good.”

“Oh.” She squinted upward and then at him. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely. The gold on the ribbons and the clouds in the background give it a kind of surrealistic feel. ”When did you paint it?”

“The summer I turned sixteen.” Recalling that carefree period in her life, she laughed softly. “I was heavily influenced by Disney cartoons back then. And anything remotely French and romantic—” She stopped in midsentence when she realized he was trying to steer her off the subject of getting rid of him. Scowling, she clamped both hands on her hips.

Controlling Spencer Madison for the next twelve hours wasn’t going to be easy, but she wasn’t giving up. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

Carefully removing several shirts from his suitcase, Spencer set the stack on the bed. “I haven’t missed a word.”

“Okay,” she said, challenging him with a jut of her chin. “What did I say?”

He reached for his shaving kit. “Let’s see,” he said, tossing it back and forth between his hands before pausing thoughtfully. “You’ve been heavily influenced by anything remotely French and romantic—”

“Before that.”

“You mean, downstairs just now with your parents? Don’t worry. You were very good,” he said, winking at her.

“What was that wink for?”

“I think they like me.”

Jade flew across the room. “Obviously you have not been listening. You’re here for one night and one night only so there’ll be no need to unpack,” she said, scooping up his shirts then dropping the armload back into his suitcase. She was on home ground now. In a place where she felt safe and confident, and he was not going to change that with a wink, that chipper talk or his good ol’ boy attitude.

Rezipping the luggage, she shoved it off the bed. “And just because my parents offered you good brandy, doesn’t mean they like you. They do that to everyone I bring home.”

When he looked as if he was going to reach for the phone, she lunged to push it to the other side of the night table. “You have not lucked into a meal ticket here so don’t even think about canceling your reservations at the Maxwell.”

He studied her for a moment then slipped his hands in his pockets and nonchalantly leaned around her for a look at the balcony doors. She took that opportunity to snatch his wallet from the night table.

“Look at me,” she said, shaking the leather trifold at him. “I’m locking this in my father’s office safe downstairs, so don’t get any crazy ideas about robbing us then sneaking out. And I’m counting the silver and checking your bags before you leave here, too.”

As his roving gaze landed on her again, he took a step closer, bumping the toes of his loafers against her pumps. His towering height caused her to look up instead of down. One deep breath and his chest would be pressing against her breasts. She swallowed carefully.

He lowered his chin. “You mean you’d like to go through my personal possessions?”

Suddenly the spacious room she’d spent her childhood in felt claustrophobically small. She had all she could do not to cup her fingers over his stubbly beard and hold him...back. Along with his serious expression, his masculine stance took her breath away. Maybe that terrorist-cum-movie star look wasn’t as repulsive as she once thought. “I—I didn’t say that.”

He moved closer. “You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice rumbling through her like soft thunder on a sultry afternoon.

Her eyelids fluttered shut. He was going to kiss her. The kind of hot and thorough kiss that left you breathless and achy. The kind that made you moan for more. The kind she’d read about but never experienced Tingling sensations were scattering through her body like blind butterflies on too much caffeine. Lifting her chin, she allowed her lips to flower open. Any second now he was—

She heard him sit down on the bed.

Of course he wasn’t going to kiss her. Dropping her chin, she kept her eyelids tightly shut as the words from a popular serenity prayer rolled through her mind. After a moment she opened her eyes, slapped his wallet on the table and looked down at him with condescension worthy of royalty. “I know what this is about now.”

He gave the mattress a few test bounces without bothering to look up at her. “What?”

“You’re trying to turn this side trip into a research experiment for that novel you’re writing, aren’t you?” Before he could answer, she went on. “Well, you won’t be around here long enough to get anywhere with that idea, so don’t bother fluffing the pillows. And stop that bouncing! This sleigh bed’s an antique. Did you hear me?”

When she grabbed his knees to steady him, their noses brushed. Startled by the playful yet intimate contact with him, she stopped moving.

He smiled. “This was your bed when you were little, right?”

Letting go of his knees, she pulled back. “How do you know that?”

“Easy. Quality piece,” he said, running his hand along an inviting turn of wood. “Nice, solid curves.” Dropping back on the white-on-white, pin-striped comforter, he opened his arms and wriggled his hips. “Makes a little noise when it’s shaken...kinda reminds me of you.”

She brought her fists straight down to her sides. “I am not laughing.”

He kicked off his shoes, swung his legs onto the bed and folded his arms behind his head. “I know, but I am a patient man,” he said, easing back onto the bank of ruffly, white eyelet pillow shams.

Avoiding his out-there-and-in-your-face expression, Jade dropped her frosty gaze over all six feet plus of him. Stretching, sprawling...standing, breathing; it didn’t matter. She’d never met anyone more comfortable with his own body. From the short time she’d known him, she was certain that Spencer Madison would be just as comfortable stretched out on that bed in his birthday suit.

The breath-stealing image appeared out of nowhere, bolting her to the floor. All those strong lines and angles of inviting masculinity contrasting with the soft, white comforter...her soft, white comforter. A wave of body heat swept through her, singeing her flesh. If her face was half as red as the rest of her body felt, he was going to know in an instant what she was thinking. She willed her eyes to look away, but when that didn’t happen she rubbed at her forehead.

“Headache?”

She slowly lowered her hands. Something ached, but it wasn’t her head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, curling his torso up and toward her. Leaning on his elbow, he patted the mattress. “Did you want to sleep here tonight?”

There? She swallowed. Right there in that warm spot? Where you rested your head on the pillow? Where you opened your arms and wriggled your hips? Where I pictured your naked body? “Not anymore,” she said, as she headed for the connecting door to the next room.

“Jade. Hold on a minute.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see him swinging his legs off the bed and planting his feet on the pale pink rug.

“Why are you doing this? What are you up to?”

“I’m making it clear to you that you’re leaving here as soon as I can manage it, and with as little fanfare as possible.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, angling his head in gentle reprimand.

She gave a huffy, impatient sigh. “Don’t you have plans to be with your family for the holidays?”

“Not this year. They’re on a cruise somewhere in the Caribbean.” He pushed up onto his feet. “What are you trying to hide, Jade?”

She slowed her steps as a tiny alarm bell jangled in her head. Was that genuine concern she heard? Or was he setting her up again to play another exasperating game of cat and mouse? Either way, it didn’t matter. She’d been through enough humiliation in the last few days to last a lifetime. And until she received that promised letter of recommendation from Sylvia Bloomfield so that she could move on finding another job, she didn’t need Spencer Madison around distracting her. On any level. “It’s none of your—”

“It is now.”

She could tell by the way he cut her off that Spencer Madison wasn’t about to back down. He had time on his side, too; he wasn’t going anywhere until breakfast. Sighing, she ran her tongue back and forth over the edges of her teeth. What had she expected? She knew he would ask this question sooner or later. She also knew she owed him some sort of an explanation, too. But that didn’t make it any easier to come up with an answer.

“Well?” He raised a brow.

Reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, she studied him carefully. He’d been sending her mixed signals since the first time he’d brushed against her. What he meant, what he wanted and who he was were as unknown to her as her own future. No way was she going to tell him that she’d just been fired when she couldn’t bring herself to admit it to anyone else. Not even her own family. There was only one thing to do. Since she was the world’s worst liar, she’d have to offer him an altered version of the lesser of two evil truths.

“My boyfriend was supposed to have come on this trip, but we had this disagreement... this big, and... well, personal disagreement. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time, I know, yet I still found it necessary to break up with him.” She was starting to ramble, but she always did that when she lied.

Spencer’s face contorted to a sympathetic frown. Too sympathetic. But there was no going back now, so she went on, effusing her explanation with a whine worthy enough to win an Academy Award. “I really can’t explain why I panicked this afternoon. Probably the stress of the breakup. I mean, it wasn’t easy after all the time I put into the relationship, and when he—”

“Bull.”

“Bull?” One hand shot to her hip and the other snapped toward him with the efficiency and speed of a karate chop. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means, I don’t believe you.”

“You think this trip isn’t embarrassing for me? My parents have been hounding me to bring Richard for a visit. And at the last minute he’s a no-show. Believe me,” she said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and toward the door, “they haven’t started their main interrogation session yet.

“And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m facing having to attend my high school reunion alone. Not that it means anything to you, but I, the girl voted Most Likely to Succeed, am not looking forward to dancing with myself at that affair.”

“That’s what’s got you coming off your spool?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why you insufferable, obnoxious, sanctimonious, know-it-all, you don’t know anything about me.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Spencer said, raising his hands in surrender. “You’re right. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but maybe that can work to your advantage.”

She reached for the doorknob.

“Jade, please. Hear me out,” Spencer said, working to gain her trust with the most concerned tone he could muster. A journalistic strategem he’d practiced for the better part of seven years. He took a few steps toward her. “We both know there’s a lot more to this than what you’ve told me. Whatever it is, you’re going to feel a lot better once you talk about it.”

She looked cautiously over her shoulder at him. He took it as his cue to continue.

“You know, sometimes a stranger can be a better listener than a friend or a family member. With a stranger, there’s no history, no expectations, no emotional connection to the person or the problem.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he arched a brow. “If you’re ready to talk, I’m willing to listen.”

Spence watched as she stared at the lush weeping fig tree by the balcony doors for a long moment, then blew a puff of air through her lips. She was coming around. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was all he could do not to reach for his tape recorder.

“Okay. I’ll tell you the truth, but you’re not to go blabbing this.”

He made a zipping motion across his lips.

“Richard left me.”

This little gem was a far cry from what he’d expected: an admission that she’d been fired from her Capitol Hill job, an angry burst of information on Representative Sylvia Bloomfield and maybe even a confession of her own involvement in the travel fraud he was investigating.

He stroked his stubbly beard and smiled to himself. He was an optimistic man; he’d try again later about her job. In the meantime, and not that he gave a rat’s aorta, but just how important was this damn boyfriend to her? With that red hair, those big blue eyes and that gorgeous body, Jade Macleod went way beyond pretty and well into the realm of beautiful. What kind of a fool would walk out on her?

“You sound more ticked off than hurt.”

“I can assure you, I am hurt. In fact, I—I’m devastated. Humiliated.” She blinked several times, trying, he guessed, to produce a tear or two. When that didn’t work, she pressed her lips together and looked away. “I think it’s made me a little crazy.”

He liked the way she held herself together. He liked the way she fell apart, too. But when she tried to lie, he had to bite back a smile. Wringing her hands, Jade chattered on about her broken heart as her beautiful blue-eyed gaze darted around the room. So much wasted energy. He could think of better ways to channel it.

Resisting the urge to adjust his inseam, Spence pinched the bridge of his nose instead. Enough of this sentimental, sexy, screwball nonsense. What the hell was he thinking about? He was here for one thing. Information for a no-nonsense, hard-facts exposé on Jade Macleod’s ex-boss. Let the games begin, he thought as he held up his hand for her to stop.

“Clear up a point for me, will you?” he asked as he walked over and handed her his handkerchief. “You said your parents have never met Richard.”

Sniffing, she eyed him suspiciously. “That’s right.”

“Well, wouldn’t it have made more sense if you’d asked me to pretend to be him instead of your assistant?”

She stared at him blankly.

“It’s none of my business, but he must not have been very good in the—”

She leveled a finger and a warning look at him. “Watch it.”

“Hey, all I’m saying is, if you’re not bothering to replace him, there must not have been much of a relationship to replace.”

“There’s more to a relationship than...well... that,” she said as her face reddened. “Besides, I only needed you to pretend at the train station. Things were never supposed to go this far.” Raising the handkerchief, she turned away to blow her nose.

“Whatever. It just sounds to me as if you’re more interested in what people think of your career than your love life. Am I right?”

Balling the handkerchief, she shoved it back in his hand. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Hmm?” He stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket.

“This psychological ploy to get me to talk about myself so you’ll have something to chew on for that novel. What’s the matter, Spence? Suffering from the proverbial writer’s block? Are you a little weak on plot? Short on characterization? Is there fizzle where there should be zing?”

He didn’t bother hiding his smile as he backed away. “Is there fizzle where there should be zing?” Picking up his suitcase, he placed it on the bed again. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out. Oh, by the way. Dinner with your family tonight doesn’t count. You still owe me one.”

“It certainly does count. I have no intention of being seen with you in public. The fewer people I have to explain you to, the better,” she said, reaching behind her for the doorknob and twisting it open. “What’s that smile for?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve already been seen in public. And what are you going to say when people read about us in their newspapers?”

“Do I look worried?”

She did, but considering the daggers he was already dodging, he decided not to answer.

“Well, I’m not.” She was rubbing her temples again. “This all comes under the heading of damage control, which is something of a specialty of mine.”

Spence felt his ears perk up. “Really?”

“Maybe. Anyway, much as I love my brother, he will never meet his deadline because, unfortunately, Neal’s never finished anything in his life. Now, if you don’t mind,” she said, heading back to the hall door for her suitcases, “I’m going to settle in. I’ll be back for you later.”

When he made a move to help, she waved him off. “Don’t touch them,” she said, grabbing the suitcases from his reach and heading for the connecting door to the next bedroom. “Don’t go anywhere, don’t talk to anyone and don’t use the phone unless you have your own calling card.”

Before he could respond, she kicked the door shut behind her.

Where was he! Jade knocked for the third time.

She hadn’t meant to leave him alone this long, but somehow her intended five-minute nap had raged out of control. Now two hours had disappeared and so, it seemed, had Spencer Madison.

She called his name through the closed door. No answer. Frowning, she pushed it open, poked her head in and looked around. His wallet was right where she’d left it. Casting a quick glance toward the hall door, she slipped into the room and headed for the night table. The temptation to look through the brown leather trifold gnawed at her insides like a hungry pit bull puppy. She rubbed her moist palms against the tunic top of her black evening pajamas. Everything she’d been taught about right and wrong was fast-forwarding through her mind.

If ever there was a reason to break a rule, Spencer Madison’s presence was it. She had a right—no, a duty—to check him out. Switching on the lamp, she picked up his wallet and began unfolding it.

“Can I help you find something?”

The sound of his voice had the same effect on her as a minor earthquake. Slamming the wallet back onto the table, she accidentally sent the lamp crashing sideways onto the bed. When she scrambled to right it, her knee connected with the corner of the night table.

“No. I was doing just fine,” she said, rubbing her knee as she turned toward him. He was lounging in the doorway, his arms crossed, his one shoulder casually pressed against the door frame. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

“Yes. Do you always go through your guest’s belongings?”

“You’re not a guest,” she said, reaching behind her to stop the drawer handle from rattling.

“Don’t tell that to your parents,” he said as a lazy grin lit his face. “They’ve laid out quite a spread down there. Why don’t you come on down and see?”

“I thought we agreed that you were going to stay up here until I came to get you. I don’t appreciate you wandering around my house,” she said, crossing the room to where he blocked the doorway.

“After I made some phone calls to let people know where I’d be, things got pretty boring. By the way, I’m short on hangers in my closet. Think you could lend me some?”

“You don’t need hangers because you’re not staying.”

“Why not? We were doing so well.”