J ack shoved the door to his apartment closed behind him and shook his hair over the tiled entryway, dumping snow. He brushed off his shoulders—should have done it outside, but he was too cold to care. He shrugged out of his coat and gloves, thinking he’d need to buy a cap to keep the warmth from seeping out of his head.
Tomorrow he’d be sore, all right, from all the falling. He hurried to the kitchen and turned on the stovetop to warm his hands. Rayne was right—hot chocolate was a great idea.
Part of him wished he would have shared it with her. Thankfully, he’d come to his senses before he’d done something crazy like kiss her. That would have been a quick way out of a job. She’d given him no indication of her interest—at least not in so many words. Feeling the blood flow back in his hands, he poured cocoa mix into a cup of water and stuck it in the microwave.
Then there was the matter of his pact with himself. After what had happened last year, he could never give his heart to someone—the risk was too great.
Too wound up to sleep, he sipped on the hot chocolate while watching a comedy and unpacking a few remaining boxes. Originally he’d planned to leave a few things boxed so that when he finally bought a house, he wouldn’t have to repack.
But that side of his life wasn’t on his fast-track plan. Might as well get cozy in the apartment for a while. He laughed at a comical scene playing on the TV as he cut open a box and looked inside.
She stared at him.
Jack stumbled back. Who had packed that picture of her? He knew he hadn’t done it. Jack rubbed his eyes, thinking back to the week he moved. Several of his buddies in San Diego had helped him pack. All of them knew that she was the reason he left the company.
And now it was as though she laughed at him, laughed at his cold misery, and reminded him of why he would never love anyone else. Loving a woman gave her too much power over you.
Jack groused at himself for his melodrama. He tugged the framed photo from the box and considered that he hadn’t thought about her much over the last several weeks. No, he’d been thinking about someone else.
The picture was one of Kiera’s best. She’d given it to him on his birthday—so sure he’d want to see her every day. Luscious golden hair tumbled over her shoulders. Stunning eyes—made even more striking with mascara and shadow—stared back at him. Perfect lips opened into a sensual smile—just for him.
He closed his eyes, feeling dizzy with anger.
She’d toyed with him. They looked good as a couple, she’d said. But her heart wasn’t in it—did she even have a heart?
Jack sank onto the sofa, ignoring the television and the neighbor next door who banged on the wall for him to turn the volume down.
Rayne was the exact opposite of Kiera—Rayne was beautiful where it counted. She was real.
Stumbling from the couch over to the kitchen, he pressed the lever on the garbage can and dropped Kiera’s picture into the container, putting her where she belonged.
And as for Rayne? She worked for him. End of story.
He loved what he was doing at FountainTech. Why risk everything again?
He turned his focus to his new invention.
For the next several weeks, Rayne worked with the design team members to translate their designs into the 3-D model on the computer, and from there, once they were satisfied with the results, they entered the creation into the software. Their special software would then control the pumps and nozzles, resulting in a water fountain. Jack told her that the magic all started with her as lead designer, and then continued with her ability to translate all the ideas into something that could be visualized.
She hadn’t worked much with Jack at all, which concerned her, considering he’d given her creative lead and made certain she understood they would work closely together. But she’d hardly seen him since the night they’d gone ice-skating.
Rayne stared at the computer screen and then hung her head.
Jack was out of town this week with Barb, visiting the customer site to fine-tune details of the project. As creative lead, Rayne knew she should have gone with him. He hadn’t invited her. She sensed he’d built a great divide between them—but perhaps that was her overactive imagination—as if there were, in fact, any reason for him to distance himself from her.
She stood tall and stretched her back, needing some fresh coffee to jolt her out of this melancholy. One of the problems with being an artistic person was the tendency toward extremes. She was either flying high, soaring with the eagles, or her mood was deep in a cave with the bats.
And right now that cave was looming just ahead of her.
Rayne strode down the hall to the kitchen, offering half smiles to coworkers here and there as she passed. Turning the corner that would take her to the kitchen, she bumped into Terry, a man she rarely saw on this floor.
He sloshed coffee all over himself and winced, then glared down at her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Let me get you a towel.”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll take care of this in the men’s room.” He trotted off in a huff.
The incident reminded her of the first time she met Jack. Rayne sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee. They really should have put her office somewhere else to keep her from running into people. She needed to focus when she approached the kitchen.
She laughed to herself, glad she was alone. As she left the kitchen, she decided she missed Barb, and…she missed Jack.
Back in her office, she stared out the window, unable to concentrate on the fountain. The snow had finally let up, and the sun beat down on Fargo, though the temperature was still below freezing.
Once Jack returned, he wouldn’t be impressed with her anymore.
When he’d chosen Barb to accompany him on the trip, he’d sucked all the creativity out of Rayne. Barb had a thing for Jack. He had to know that, and going on a business trip with her might be dangerous for him, especially with the way Barb flirted with him. That is, if Jack wanted to avoid an office romance, Barb would be hard to resist. She was beautiful—the kind of woman who could easily catch any man’s attention. Who was she kidding?
She was jealous of Barb. The woman had a right to like Jack. Who was Rayne to say she didn’t?
Rayne plopped in her chair, feeling anything but inspired about this fountain.
She was losing her touch.
That night at the ice-skating rink, Rayne had been sure Jack was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes, remembering how she felt, how she longed to feel his arms around her, but they had both snatched themselves from the magic moment. Or could it have all been in her head alone?
That had to be it—Jack had seen that she had feelings for him, knew that’s why she had tried to be aloof around him and failed. That’s why Jack had appeared reserved around her.
Her emotions and his actions could be a huge detriment to the client. Harold would see that this team wasn’t producing as well as it did before Jack came on board.
And that would be all Rayne’s fault.
How did one escape romantic tension in the workplace? Maybe this was a sign from God. She couldn’t work in this environment.
With Jack.
Her office phone rang.
Jack!
Heart pounding, she answered. Gail told Rayne that a Craig Hammerman was on the line. Rayne wasn’t familiar with the name, but she took the call anyway, feeling the fool for wishing Jack would call her. She had to nix these fantasies.
“This is Rayne Flemming.”
“My name is Craig Hammerman. I’m a headhunter, and I have a company very interested in your talents.”
Rayne held her breath, trying to comprehend what she’d just heard. “I’m not interested.”
“Miss Flemming. It would be worth your while to hear me out. Get all the facts before you make your decision.”
“I…I don’t know.”
“This company is very similar to FountainTech, only working in a different market niche entirely. You would manage a team of designers. I can promise you a better salary than you’re making now.”
Rayne shook her head. “How did you get my number?”
“You mean, how do I know about you? Let’s just say my client is aware of your designs.”
“Where is the company located?”
“I can’t give you that information just yet. But it’s not in North Dakota.”
“I’ll have to get back to you. Give me your number.”
“Miss Flemming, this opportunity is short-lived. There are other designers being considered. Don’t think too long.”
Rayne wrote down the phone number and said good-bye. She drew in a deep breath then exhaled. Just a few short weeks ago the news that she’d lost the promotion to Jack had almost devastated her. For so long, she’d planned to work her way up and show her family that she was meant for the business world. For so long, she wished she could put aside the hold they held over her—but it wasn’t that easy.
To some extent, thanks to Jack, she’d been able to put the loss behind her. In a short period of time, he’d earned her loyalty. Still, didn’t she owe it to herself to consider this new opportunity? And she’d already decided Jack’s fountain would be better without her, considering her misplaced feelings toward him.
“When opportunity knocks, and you walk through that door, just remember it comes with a price. Count the cost.” Though she’d left the farm, her father’s words of wisdom were never far away.
Jack leaned his head against the seat back, feeling the pressure against his body as the jet took off. He closed his eyes, relieved that this trip would finally end.
Barb sat quietly next to him, flipping through a magazine she’d tugged from the seat back in front of her.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Rayne should have been the one with him. The client would have been amazed with her perceptiveness and her impressions. Instead, he’d brought a Barbie doll. The woman was talented, too, but it wasn’t the same.
And her focus was off. Though she was professional in every way that counted, he could tell that she had romantic notions about him. All he could do was ignore her subtle overtures. The tension brought to light his own emotions where Rayne was concerned.
Was that the reason Rayne had acted standoffish toward him? Had she sensed something from him and consequently felt trapped by her boss? He slid his hand down his face and groaned. Oh, he hoped not.
“What’s bothering you, Jack?”
Jack opened his eyes. Barb was still flipping through the magazine. “Oh, I could really use one of those”—she pointed at a massage gizmo—“since I don’t have anyone at home to rub my back.”
Jack shut his eyes again. Barb was an exotic beauty.
Like Kiera.
Any other normal red-blooded man would struggle against the temptation she offered. But Kiera had cured him. Utterly.
Simon would have been a better choice on this trip, but then Jack would have had to listen to him comparing himself to Rayne.
Rayne…
“Jack.” Someone tugged on his arm.
He opened his eyes and squinted. Where was he? Oh right, the flight back from Dallas to Fargo.
Barb’s sensual perfume drew him fully awake.
“Hey there, you’re awake now.” Barb leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “You said someone’s name in your sleep. I promise to keep it just between you and me.”
Stunned, he couldn’t respond. Had he said Rayne’s name? He’d had a dream about her.
He turned his head, despite the danger in Barb’s proximity, to read her eyes.
A slight smile quirked the right side of her lovely mouth. She looked pleased with herself.
“Barb,” she whispered. “You said my name.”