An Irresistible Bachelor(77)

"Jack, you simply cannot do this. Especially if you are going to run for governor." As his eyebrows lifted, she explained, "Gray Bennett's mother called and told me that he's been here in Boston, meeting with you. It's obvious what you're planning."

"Ah, the Smith College alumni network at its best."

Mercedes came up to the desk with her particular brand of urgency, clearly prepared to force her will on him. Even though she'd never swayed him, she was always willing to try.

Man, his father hadn't stood a chance once she'd picked him out of the crowd, Jack thought.

"You know I've always hoped you'd run," she said, "and not just at the state level. Can't you see what elected office would do for you? The power it would give you? The respect? Don't you want all that?"

"I already have power so a lot of people respect me," he said dryly. "And I have a feeling that you're quite interested in being the mother of the governor, aren't you? But you're not impressing me with your logic. I fail to see how marrying Blair when I don't love her would land me in the governor's seat any more than being with Callie would prevent it."

The tone of his mother's voice hardened. "Don't think your love life isn't going to play a role in the election. God knows, your past is going to be hard enough to live down. You shouldn't compound the problem by losing someone like Blair just because you want to sleep with a member of the lower classes."

"That's enough," he said sharply, bringing the glass down hard on the desk.

His mother was not deterred.

"Jackson, I cannot let you make a mistake like this. There are ways of fixing these things."

He narrowed his eyes on her. "It's rather noble of you to try and save me from myself, but bear this in mind. If you want to keep living here, you will back the hell off and stay out of my life. Do we have an understanding?"

Her thin brows shot up into her forehead.

"But you must see that it can never work between you and that... Callie," she said, gesturing aimlessly with a jeweled hand.

"I'm sorry, didn't we just agree you wouldn't interfere? Or are you moving?"

Mercedes stared at him, looking almost helpless. He could imagine her frustration, to be so close to her dreams, and yet unable to control his actions.

"Jack, I'm your mother—”

"That doesn't mean you're running the show around here. Shut the door on your way out, will you?" As she continued to stare at him, he cocked an eyebrow. "Now."

When he was alone, he finished his drink and then went to look for Callie.

Even if he was out of sorts, there was nowhere else he wanted to be but with her.





A week later, Callie returned to the house following a productive afternoon with the portrait. After having worked her way around the outside of the painting, she was now far enough in so that she was cleaning Nathaniel's face. Even with the dirt and grime he had been handsome, if rather dour, but revealed in all his glory, he was resplendent. His eyes were a dark mahogany, his cheeks a gentle pink, his hair thick with a multitude of browns. Copley had brought out the best in his subject, but she suspected that there had been a lot to work with. And with the old varnish gone, his brooding expression was less intense.

As she opened the back door, the resounding silence in the kitchen reminded her it was Thomas's day off.



This meant Mrs. Walker would be out to dinner and Callie grinned. Although she and Jack had plans to go to the movies and have dinner somewhere, maybe they should just stay home. It seemed a damn shame to waste the privacy.

She glanced at her new watch. She was getting used to it and it did serve the purpose of telling her when it was lunchtime. More than anything, though, she liked it because it made her think of Jack.

Sitting down at the table, she started to leaf through the paper, stroking Arthur's ear with her free hand.

An hour later, she looked at the watch again and started pacing around the kitchen. Jack was never late and he'd told her he'd be home an hour and a half ago. She was wondering whether she should try him at the office when the phone rang.

Even though she wasn't in the habit of answering calls at the house, she picked up the receiver, hoping it was him.

"Hello?"

"Callie, it's Jack. I need your help."

In the background, she heard muffled voices and the sound of something shrill. Were those alarms?