The Makeover Takeover Page 5

  Lauren shrugged. “I don’t know. My mind was jumping around, I guess. But obviously not as much as yours has been. Why on earth would a little thing like that make you think I’m going to have a baby?”

  The dry tone of her voice, the amusement in her eyes, made Rafe feel foolish. “That wasn’t the only reason,” he defended himself. “Kane was the one who started it off, saying something that sounded as if you—as if he—as if you and he might have…” He trailed off, suddenly realizing that Kane might not want his sperm problem spread all over the firm.

  Lauren’s eyes had gone wide again. “Kane Haley said he and I were lovers?”

  “No, of course not,” Rafe said. “That’s ridiculous…”

  Lauren stiffened. Ridiculous?

  “…Although, I have to admit, for a second I had that crazy idea, too.” He shook his head. “But I know Kane would never fool around with one of his employees, and besides, you’re not…” He paused. “Well, I mean you aren’t…”

  She pressed her lips together. “I’m not what?”

  “The, ah, kind of woman he… dates.”

  Hurt bloomed in Lauren’s chest, replacing the relief that she’d been feeling. “So what you’re saying is that Kane Haley would never be interested in a woman like me,” she repeated, each word stabbing her a little.

  Rafe gave her a sharp glance. Did she want Haley’s attention? Because it sure sounded that way from her tone.

  And he didn’t like the thought, not at all. Lauren and Kane? No way. She was much too young for Haley. Rafe was trying to come up with a subtle way to ask her if she was interested in the man when she got in first with a question of her own.

  “So, if you figured out Kane Haley hadn’t gotten me pregnant, then who was supposed to have done the dastardly deed?”

  Jay Leonardo leaped to the forefront of Rafe’s mind, but he kept his mouth shut. If Lauren hadn't considered Leonardo as a lover, then why put the idea in her head? Rafe didn’t care for the man—never had, and never would. Never mind that he’d never met him. He just had a feeling that Leonardo—like Kane—would be bad news for Lauren.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said vaguely, not wanting to delve into the subject too deeply. “Accidents happen. All it takes is one careless night and…”

  Lauren stared at him as his voice trailed off again. After working with her for three years, didn’t he know her any better? Didn’t he realize she would never do something like that? Or how insulting it was for him to even suggest it? Did he even care?

  No, of course not. Rafe Mitchell didn’t really care how she felt, not at all. “So you think I’m the kind of woman who has one-night stands?”

  Rafe’s head whipped up at her dangerously quiet tone. His gaze locked with hers. “Hell, no,” he said, backpedaling rapidly, amazed at how upset—even angry—she suddenly looked. Lauren never got angry. Oh, she got incensed at times over the state of the economy or the environment—and world hunger really got her going—but she never lost her temper. At least not with him.

  He was used to teasing her, making her laugh—riling her up a little, sure—but not to the point where she looked liked she was ready to come after him.

  “I don’t think that at all. But you don’t know how men are, how they think, and I do,” he explained in an effort to placate her. “I just figured that since you’re kind of naive, and you haven’t dated much—some jerk might have taken advantage of that.”

  Too bad Lauren didn’t look placated. Her eyes narrowed—as if she was sighting down a rifle at him. A bad sign. She unclenched her hands—a good sign—but then crossed her arms over her breasts. Not so good.

  “I see,” she said. “So what you really think is the only reason a man would date me is for sex.”

  “I don’t think that!”

  “So, I’m not the kind of woman men want to have sex with?”

  “Of course not—”

  “How dare you!”

  “I mean, yes—no. Hell, I don’t know what I mean anymore.” Rafe raked his hand through his hair.

  “At least you admit you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she concluded in a silky, condescending voice.

  Rafe wasn’t used to arguing with Lauren, and he certainly wasn’t accustomed to seeing disdain in her gentle eyes, hearing sarcasm in her soft voice when she spoke to him. “What’s wrong with you tonight?” he demanded.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Her eyes blazed with hurt and anger. “You come over here, on a day when I’ve been sick, call me naive and insult me in ten different ways— sticking your nose into something that is none of your business—and you have the gall to ask me what’s wrong?” Her pale face was bleak and set. She picked up his coat and held it out to him. “I think you’d better go.”

  Rafe stared at her, as amazed as if a kitten had suddenly turned into a tiger. “But, Lauren…”

  She thrust his coat into his arms, refusing even to look at him again. She pulled the door open wide, letting the freezing cold blow in, showing him the way out. “Just go!”

  So, with a stifled oath, Rafe left.

  Chapter Six

  Lauren shut the door and locked it. Then she walked into her living room and sank down onto the couch.

  She hugged herself, fighting back the tears burning in her eyes, refusing to let them fall. No way was she going to break down now. She’d had plenty of practice controlling her emotions; doing so had become almost second nature to her over the past two years.

  Ever since the day she’d fallen in love with Rafe.

  Even at the time she’d known it was stupid to let it happen. Rafe wasn’t the kind of man she’d ever dreamed of loving someday. She’d thought she’d choose somebody like her father—a quiet, handsome man, who hadn’t been ambitious in the least, but whose life had revolved around his wife and little daughter.

  Rafe wasn’t exceptionally handsome. Not really. His face was all planes and angles, his nose had a slight bump on the bridge from when he’d boxed in the marines. His mouth was too wide, his lips too thin and his eyes too often held a cynical expression that made him seem far older than his years.

  And he was ambitious; relentlessly so. The takeovers he orchestrated were ruthless and swift, usually completed before the other company quite knew what was happening. He was perfect for the position he held at Kane Haley, Inc.—but not as the kind of man to dream about. Lauren had been aware of that from the moment she’d met him.

  But then Rafe had shown up at her door with a tree her very first Christmas in the city. Her very first Christmas alone. She’d looked into his teasing brown eyes, seen that crooked smile on his face as he pushed his way into her home with that pine, and she’d fallen in love for the first time in her life.

  And once she’d started sliding down that slippery slope, it had been impossible to stop. All day she’d just kept falling—swept away by the intent expression on his lean face as he’d hung tinsel on the tree, one silver strand at a time; charmed by the care with which he handled the antique glass ornaments she’d inherited from her mom. Comforted by the way he hugged her to his hard, warm chest when grief had briefly overcome her and a few tears had escaped to trail slowly down her cheeks.

  He’d let her cry—then teased her into laughing again. When he discovered she didn’t have a topper for the tree, he’d created one himself out of a pink paper cup. He’d made coffee so strong her hair almost stood on end, and sugar cookies so underbaked they were practically still dough. The day had been filled with the scent of pine, twinkling lights, the sound of laughter and the soft silence of snowflakes falling outside the window; with the warmth of the fire burning cheerily in the hearth and the taste of hot chocolate and peppermint. Memories of Christmas— and of Rafe.

  When the day was over and he’d left, Lauren had told herself that she only imagined that he’d taken her heart with him. A combination of the holidays and emotions. She’d worked to bury her feelings deep inside, and for months at a time, she managed
to pretend he was just her boss. A great guy to work for. A friend.

  But every day lately it seemed to be getting harder to hide her feelings. Her stomach would twist in knots at an unexpected smile or a touch of his hand. She worried constantly about giving herself away; had even thought tonight that he’d guessed her secret. Thank goodness, he hadn’t. She knew Rafe wasn’t interested in her that way. Although, until their argument, she hadn’t realized he thought she had no sexual appeal for any man at all.

  She swallowed hard, hugging herself tighter—then stiffened as a knock sounded at the door. Pain shot through her. Oh, please, couldn’t he just go away? She couldn’t face Rafe again tonight.

  But a second later, a feminine voice called, “Lauren? Are you all right?” and she realized in relief it wasn’t Rafe coming back to torment her unknowingly. It was Jay.

  Usually Lauren loved having her neighbor stop by to visit. She’d first met her at the women’s shelter where Jay, a cosmetologist, had been demonstrating makeup techniques to help some of the women prepare for job interviews. The two had quickly become firm friends—so much so, that when the apartment next door had become vacant a month ago, Lauren had told Jay who’d immediately snapped it up.

  Although Jay’s quirky outlook on life always made her fun to be around, Lauren wasn’t up to having fun tonight. Yet, when her friend called her name again with increasing concern in her voice, Lauren knew she couldn’t just ignore her. With a sigh, she went and opened the door.

  Jay took one look at her face, then gently brushed her aside and marched in. Her long black hair flowed down her back like a cape, and she carried her huge tote bag slung over one slim shoulder as she followed Lauren to the couch.

  Lauren sat down, gesturing to Jay to do the same. Jay shed her bag, her amber coat and orange silk scarf onto the floor, then perched next to her.

  “Okay, what’s going on here? Who was that man and why did he make you cry?” Jay demanded.

  “I’m not crying." Lauren defiantly swallowed the lump in her throat. “That was just my boss—Rafe.”

  “Did he fire you?” Jay rummaged in her bag and pulled out a package of tissues.

  “No, of course—”

  “Hit on you then?” Jay interrupted. Without waiting for an answer, she added grimly, “I just knew he was going to do that someday.”

  Lauren accepted the tissue Jay held out. “Well, he didn’t.” A small, bitter laugh escaped her. “In fact, you couldn’t be more wrong. If anything he did the opposite.”

  Jay’s perfectly plucked dark eyebrows arched higher. “He refused to go to bed with you?”

  “Yes—well, no.” Lauren blew her nose. “That is, the subject didn’t come up—but if it had, he would have.”

  “So why did he come here?”

  “Because he thought I was pregnant.”

  Jay gasped, pressing a startled hand against her plump bosom. “With his baby?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  “He thought it was someone else’s?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m not pregnant,” Lauren said in exasperation. “He just thinks I’m naive and I don’t know anything about men, and that something might have happened. He sounded as if—as if the only reason a man would ever go out with me, was if he was desperate for sex. Very desperate.”

  Jay had no trouble at all deciphering the main point of that confusing statement. “That jerk!”

  “Oh, he didn’t intend to hurt me,” Lauren admitted. “Rafe’s not like that. In fact, I’m almost positive he feels a certain amount of—of affection for me. He’s always teasing me, the way he would a little sister. I’m the one who deluded myself into thinking he’d ever consider me more than that.”

  “And why shouldn’t he? You’re a wonderful woman.”

  Lauren gave her friend’s hand an impulsive squeeze of thanks, but shook her head, smiling wryly. “I certainly can’t compete with the women he goes out with. They’re stunning—as well as sophisticated. Never mind having figures like—like Victoria’s Secret models.”

  “Big breasts, huh?” Jay said bluntly. She ignored Lauren’s remarks about the women’s attractiveness to ask the question that interested her more. “What do you mean women? As in plural? What is this guy? Some kind of player?”

  “No. Not exactly. At least—I know he’s honest with the women he dates. He lets them know he doesn’t believe in love.”

  “But I bet every one of them thinks she’ll be the one to change his mind,” Jay said shrewdly.

  “Probably,” Lauren agreed dispiritedly. How could she doubt it? Hadn’t she secretly had the same hope? And he hadn’t even been dating her.

  “He’s a player, all right,” Jay was saying, conviction in her voice. “And smart enough to know there’s safety in numbers. Well, then forget about the man. He doesn’t deserve a woman like you.”

  A wave of misery welled up in Lauren. “No,” she agreed. “He deserves someone who’s sophisticated and beautiful. The kind of woman he enjoys going around with.”

  “Lauren Connor, you stop that right now,” Jay scolded, her ebony eyes flashing. “You’re beautiful—”

  “Oh, sure…”

  “Yes, you are. But until you get one person to believe it, no one else will.”

  Lauren blew her nose again, thinking that over. “You mean Rafe?” she asked hesitantly, glancing at her friend over the top of her tissue.

  “Goodness, no, I don’t mean Rafe! Didn’t I just tell you to forget the man? I mean you!”

  “Me? But I’m not beautiful.” Lauren didn’t want to make Jay angry, but they needed to face reality here.

  But Jay appeared unwilling to do that. “Oh?” she demanded. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because I’m so—so unnoticeable.”

  Jay gave her clothes a disparaging glance. “So quit wearing clothes that resemble a mud puddle. Get something with color, something that highlights your wonderful skin tone. And tighter, more form-fitting to show off your figure. Most women would just about die to be as slender as you are.”

  “But not to be built like me.”

  Jay rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Just because your breasts aren’t huge—”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “—doesn’t mean your figure is bad. Your legs are long and slim, your waist is slender, your stomach is flat. You’ve been blessed, girl.” She studied Lauren’s face, saying earnestly, “Don’t you see? The way you feel about yourself affects the way you think and dress and react to other people—and how they react to you. You shouldn’t want to be someone else—not even the kind of woman you think some man might want. You have to be the kind of woman you want to be.”

  Lauren knew all that, of course. It was the same talk she’d heard Jay give a dozen times at the shelter. But she’d never applied it to herself—had never even considered it. “I am the kind of woman I want to be,” she protested.

  “Are you?” Jay demanded. “I don’t think you think about yourself much at all. Do you like gray?” she asked, looking pointedly at Lauren’s sweat suit.

  “No, not particularly…”

  “And wearing your hair long?”

  Lauren fingered the strands hanging over her shoulders. “No, not especially. It’s just easier—”

  “Forget easy. Do you like the way it looks?”

  “No,” Lauren said—and realized she’d been tired of her hairstyle for ages. “I think it would look better short. But I’m always so busy. With work, and helping at the shelter and…” Her voice trailed off.

  “And sitting at home, dreaming about this Rafe.” Jay’s voice was stern, but the expression in her eyes was gentle as she said, “You have to stop it, Lauren. If you don’t, he’s bound to discover how you feel sometime. And then, you may end up just being one of Rafe’s women. Do you really want that?”

  No, she didn’t want that. As much as she hurt now, she knew that to belong to Rafe however briefly and then have him move o
n would hurt a thousand times more. “So how do I fight it?”

  “You have to quit focusing on the man so much, quit thinking about him all the time, and start going after the kind of man you do want.”

  “Visualization,” Lauren said automatically. “Athletes do it. We use it all the time at work. You visualize what you want, then imagine it happening.” Her mouth turned down wryly. “Rafe is really good at it.”

  “Well, you can learn to be good at it, too,” Jay said stoutly.

  Lauren wasn’t sure about that, but she did know one thing. She couldn’t go on like this, pining after a man who didn’t want her. Wasting her life sitting around hoping that Rafe would fall in love with her—and only her—someday. He’d never fallen in love with any of the extraordinary women he dated, so why had she imagined he’d fall in love with her? Thinking he’d ever return her regard had been sheer make-believe on her part.

  Especially since she now knew what he really thought of her. That she wasn’t beautiful or intelligent enough to interest a man like Kane Haley—or a man like Rafe Mitchell. That she was the kind of woman who was so desperate for male attention, she’d consider having a one-night stand.

  Hurt pride stiffened her spine. Jay was right. She needed to change her way of thinking. Change herself. Go after what she wanted. Find a man who wanted the same things in life that she did. A home. A family. And most of all, love.

  “You’re right—about Rafe, about everything,” she told Jay, then glanced down at her sweat suit with a grimace, remembering Rafe’s expression when he’d seen her in it. “And there’s no better place to start than with a new wardrobe.”

  Jay clapped her hands together. “Atta girl! You and I have some shopping and some cutting and some pampering to do this weekend.”

  Energized by the mere thought. Jay rose to her feet and discovered she’d been sitting on something. “Oh, goodness—what’s this?” she asked, picking up the sweater