Page 103 of Making Over Maris

She stood and crossed to the door. Flung it open. “Leave.”

“But—”

“Leave or I’ll call security.” By security, she meant Jack. She’d call Jack. He’d probably enjoy smacking the crap out of this worm.

“Okay. Okay. Jesus, Sara. No need to be a bitch.”

Seriously? Did he just call her a bitch?

She set her teeth. “I guess I am a bitch, Todd. Now fuck off.”

He stood and stormed from the office toward the elevators. He only winced a little when she bellowed, “And stop sending me flowers!”

Jack tried to calm his heart. Nothing was working. Not the yoga breathing, not the mantra thingy, not the visualization crap. Nothing. Panic skirled in his soul.

He’d gone by to take Sara a midafternoon coffee and been poleaxed to see Todd sitting with her in her office.

It hadn’t been the sight of that asshat in her office with her—with the door closed—that had devastated him as much as the expression on her face when she spoke to him.

He knew that expression.

He’d thought it belonged to him and him alone.

Apparently he’d been wrong.

He’d contemplated marching in there and coldcocking the fucker but his courage had flailed. He couldn’t bear it if Sara had changed her mind. If she chose Surfer Turd over him.

She’d insisted she wanted nothing to do with him. She’d been fairly adamant. But Jack just couldn’t banish that niggle of doubt. He’d always suspected he wasn’t good enough for Sara. He’d hate to have his doubts confirmed. Losing her now that he’d had her would destroy him.

Goddamn Todd for coming back now. Right when he and Sara were starting to gel. Their relationship too new. But so sweet. So comfortable. And sometimes not comfortable in the slightest. At least for him. But damn it, he liked it that way.

He swallowed the bile surging in his throat.

Goddamn it. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

He would do whatever it took to keep her. Win her.

Anything. Anything.

Trouble was, she was leaving tomorrow for a week in Paris.

She’d have a week to think about Todd. A week to compare them.

Jack was sure the comparison would not be in his favor. And that sucked.

But he had tonight. He had tonight.

He would invest every ort of his being into convincing her he was the man for her.

He stilled as an idea, a wonderful, horrifying, scintillating idea blossomed.

Could he? Dare he?

Fuck yes. He would.

Flooded with sheer determination—and a healthy dose of terror—he went in search of Jenny.

That night they made love in the hot tub surrounded by rose petals and then, because Todd had been so generous, they made love in a bed filled with rose petals as well. Jack made a point of sprinkling them all over the room.