ONE
Six Months Later
Janey stood in front of the hostess station, her expression carefully bland, her body controlled. She’d learned a lot about control in the past five months. And it had prepared her for this night, she was certain.
Alex Jansen.
It took more strength than she’d ever imagined she could have to look him in the eye, to smile.
“Alex, your table is waiting.” She smiled her bland smile, deliberately met his gaze, then nodded to his companion. Some slinky blond thing dressed as though she were in New York City rather than Kentucky. A black calf-length silk gown? Give her a break. Where did he find this one?
It was anger. She knew it was. Facing Alex again, after the events that happened six months before, wasn’t easy. It was damned hard.
“Janey, you’re looking well.” His sensual, wide lips quirked at one side. Full lips. Did he even remember touching those lips to hers when she all but begged?
“And you’re looking like you’re healing well.” She collected two menus.
“I’m taking very good care of him,” the Marilyn Monroe wannabe cooed with pouty red lips.
“Good.” She shot them another cool, polite smile. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”
“You did reserve us one of the private tables, didn’t you, Alex, honey?” If the blonde’s purr got any better, then she would be lapping up cream.
“They were already reserved, Catherine,” Alex murmured. “I believe I mentioned that.”
The sound of his voice stroked down Janey’s spine. And it shouldn’t have. She shouldn’t have any reaction at all to a man she couldn’t have.
“All it takes is the right tip.” Catherine laughed, a silky, smug sound, as Janey turned at the small table marked for Alex and his date.
“Your server’s name is Tina. I hope you enjoy your meal.” She smiled at them, let the curve freeze in place, and tensed as Catherine’s finger touched her wrist.
“This table won’t do,” Catherine murmured as she slid a fifty against the back of Janey’s hand. “Could you fix that for us?”
Janey glanced at the fifty, to the woman, then to Alex as he watched the scene silently, his brows darkening.
“I’m sorry.” She drew back from the other woman’s touch, stifling a shudder. “This is the best we have.
Enjoy your meal.”
“Perhaps we should find another place to eat, Alex.” Catherine’s smile was cold.
“You’re welcome to that option.” Janey nodded at Alex. “I’ll even waive the cancellation fee, Alex.”
“Catherine can do as she pleases.” He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I’ll be staying.”
Catherine pouted, but as he pulled her chair out, she huffed and took her seat before casting Janey a glare from beneath her lashes. Her blue eyes spat anger.
“I’ll send Tina over.” Janey nodded. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“She’s uppity for the daughter of a traitor,” Janey heard Catherine murmur.
Janey kept going. Shaking inside, feeling something crawl into her chest and rake at it with ragged claws.
“Tina, I need you to—”
“We won’t be staying.”
Janey swung around at the touch of Alex’s hand on her arm. He looked furious. His gray eyes were darker than normal, his brows lowered and nostrils flared. Janey’s gaze moved behind him. Catherine was flushed, furious.
“If she means so much to you, then perhaps you should stay, Alex,” the blonde sneered. “Though I’d have chosen better for a man of your rank. Patriotism is to be applauded.”
Alex’s jaw clenched. His hand snapped out, encased Catherine’s wrist in firm fingers.
“I’m sorry, Janey,” he said softly. “It won’t happen again.”
“Of course it will.” Janey smiled stiffly. “It happens several times a night, Alex. But I’m sure I can fill the table.” She nodded to Catherine. “Have a good night.”
She turned away from them, marked their name from the list, and kept her head down as Alex pulled Catherine toward the door.
She did lift her lashes just enough to sneak a peak at that gorgeous male ass, though. She was all for being cool, composed, and all the good stuff that kept the restaurant running, but some sights a woman didn’t miss out on. No matter how uncomfortable she felt at the sight of this man with another woman.
Well, perhaps more than uncomfortable. She was damned mad and she didn’t have a right to be. She was hurt, and again, she didn’t have a right to be.
It was one kiss, because she had begged. Because he felt sorry for her. And the last thing she wanted was Alex Jansen’s pity.
“Ms. Mackay, there’s a couple waiting in the reception area that was requesting a table a few moments ago.” Her manager, Hoyt Napier, stepped from the register.
Hoyt was just a few inches taller than Janey in her heels. At five-eleven, he was slender, dark-haired.
Twenty-four years old and sometimes, she swore, her lifesaver, despite his sometimes melancholic intensity. Deep brown eyes were surrounded with thick brown lashes, and tobacco brown hair was brushed neatly back from his broad forehead. Between him and her brother’s adopted son, Faisal, she managed to keep her sanity.
Everything about Hoyt was neat. His hair, his clothes, the way he helped her run the restaurant, and how he often tried to shield her from the snide comments directed at her. Even Hoyt’s mother, Augusta, it seemed, wasn’t pleased that Janey had come home.
“Let them know we have a table ready, then.” Janey nodded, turning back to the reservation book and staring at Alex’s crossed-out name pensively.
There was no time to dwell on the event, or the woman Alex had with him. But that didn’t keep her from doing it. From imagining him with the curvy blonde. Janey knew he was angry, but Catherine would purr her way out of trouble. Janey was certain.
So why did that thought hurt so damned bad that it made the rest of the night more difficult to endure than normal? As she had told Alex, that wasn’t the first snipe of the night that she had heard, and it wouldn’t be the last. Being the daughter of a traitor, a man who had fooled almost everyone he knew into believing he was patriotic, kind, and to be respected, wasn’t going to be easy.