Cinderella's Christmas Affair. Katherine Garbera
“Mountain biking, rafting, some rock climbing.”
“Do you still do all that?” she asked.
He nodded. “I was in Moab, Utah last week.”
“You’ve changed so much,” she said.
“So have you, Cathy Jane.”
“I’m CJ, now, Tad. Some days it doesn’t seem I’ve changed all that much,” she said.
“Good. I always liked the girl you were.”
“Is that why you told your friends I paid you to spend time with me?”
Tad hardly remembered the boy he had been until she’d said those words. He’d been more concerned with how he looked to his friends in those days than hurting Cathy Jane’s feelings. Honestly, though he’d never known she’d overheard his remarks.
He was embarrassed by them now. No wonder she’d never talked to him after senior prom. “Hey, I was young and stupid.”
“Yeah, so was I,” she said.
“Does this mean you don’t have a crush on me anymore?” he asked, cursing himself for not keeping quiet. Because a crush was the only thing that had explained her behavior back then.
CJ sank back in her chair unsure what to say next. She knew she should have run when she first had a glimpse of Tad Randolph. But his warm gray-green eyes had convinced her to stay before he’d even recognized their past connection. And she’d never had good instincts when it came to men.
When they’d been in high school she’d idolized Tad. She’d spent hours writing his name in her notebooks and dreaming of them together. But now, as a mature woman she understood things that never would have entered her mind then—like relationships were complex and needed both people to be interested.
Though Tad’s comments had hurt, a part of her had needed to hear what he really thought of her. It had given her the courage to break free from the familiar and start over. College had taught her more lessons and Marcus had finished her education when he’d left.
Tad leaned forward in his chair. Bracing his elbows on his knees and watching her with an intensity that made her breathless. She shivered under the impact. What was he thinking?
“Tad…” She stood and paced to the window. How could she explain to him that maybe she’d needed to hear the truth about herself. That his comments, though hurtful at the time, had made her realize that she needed to be strong inside. She needed to get away from her comfort zone and try the things she’d always secretly dreamed of.
She heard him stand but didn’t turn. Maybe he was leaving. But then she felt his presence behind her. He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.
“Sorry I said it that way,” he said. His hand slid down her back lingering at the curve of her waist.
His touch rattled her senses and for a minute she wasn’t sure what he’d said.
She wrinkled her nose, wishing again that Marcia still worked for her. Her old secretary would have interrupted by now and sent Tad on his way. “I hoped it wouldn’t come up.”
“I had no right to ask it,” he said.
“I guess you did. There’s no easy way to say this. I think I’d built you into someone you really weren’t,” she said.
“What kind of guy?” he asked.
“The kind that looked past the outer shell of who I was and saw me as something more,” she said. He’d been someone she could debate the merits of Voltaire versus Molière. He’d been someone who understood that sometimes it was easier to be smart than to socialize. He’d been a safe haven from the other popular boys who teased her endlessly.
He cupped her face and shivers of awareness spread down her body. He had always had that effect on her senses. The first time it had happened in the advanced biology lab she’d nearly freaked out. It still shook her.
“Would it help at all to know that I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth?”
“Yeah, right. You always did have a touch of the blarney in you.” It was nice of Tad to try to reassure her. Her reservations about men had started long before she’d met Tad and continued long after she’d left Auburndale.
He shrugged and let his hand drop. “I only wish I’d had the maturity to make that moment right.”
“Well, you were responsible for my leaving town and making the life I’ve made. So maybe I should thank you.”
“I knew you went to Northwestern. Was it what you expected?” he asked.
“No,” she said. But it had definitely helped her grow up and had cemented her decision to make her career her life.
“You’ll have to tell me about it,” he said. He crossed back to the guest chair.
“Now?” she asked, walking back to her desk. She wasn’t going to tell him a thing about that time in her life or Marcus Fielding.
He shook his head. “I have to get back to work.”
“Of course. You rattled me, Tad.”
“I know,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows. “I have a feeling not many do that, Miss Top Thirty.”
“You’ve got that right. Next time we meet I’m going to be on my toes.” Or at least give the impression she was. She knew herself well enough to know that Tad was always going to knock her a little off balance.
It didn’t seem fair that the one guy who had that ability should be the only thing standing between her and the realization of her career goals.
“I’d rather you weren’t,” he said.
She smoothed her skirt and cocked her head to one side. “That’s what all the men say.”
“Do they?” he asked.
“You know they do. Guys don’t like smart women,” she said, teasing him.
“Only dumb guys don’t like smart women,” he said with a cocky grin.
She’d forgotten what it was like to spar with a man. The men she’d dated lately tended to be as career focused as she was. “You never were dumb. Though, I may have to revise my opinion.”
“Why?” He took a step toward her.
Although she realized she never should have started this, she wouldn’t back down now. “You look like a jock.”
He tucked his hands into his pockets and canted his hips to one side. Her breath caught in her chest. His pose was blatantly masculine and unexpected. He sounded like her childhood friend but there was an aura of sexuality and macho self-confidence the Tad she’d known had never used around her.
“I own a sporting goods company. I am a jock.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she said, trying to force him back into that comfortable mold he’d previously inhabited in her mind.
He raised one eyebrow at her in question and cocked his head at her.
“I’m trying to think of a way to put this delicately…”
“You don’t have to mince words with me,” he said, taking another step toward her.
She edged back stopping only when her desk blocked her retreat. “I’m just afraid that buff body of yours may have cost you a bit of the gray matter.”
“You think I’m buff, Cathy Jane?”
She blushed as she realized she did. It was never a good idea to fall into lust with your client. She cleared her throat. “Please don’t call me that.”
Taking