Chapter Two
Rachel stood at the window of the first-floor guest bedroom and stared across the street at the Colter house, but Jamie was nowhere to be seen. Disgusted with herself for even looking, she turned away. She was acting like a smitten teenager, but she couldn’t stop thinking about their earlier encounter. Had that muscular slab of sexiness really been skinny little Jamie Colter? She pictured again the broad shoulders and washboard abs, and the biceps that looked as if he could easily bench press a small car. She’d noted the new, raw scar on his abdomen that had disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts. The only things that hadn’t changed about Jamie Colter were his blue eyes and his audacious grin.
She recalled again how he had looked at her. She’d registered the surprise in his expression, but hadn’t expected the blatantly masculine perusal that had followed, or her own improbable reaction. She’d blushed like a schoolgirl, and the heat of his gaze on her skin had been like a palpable caress. She’d been celibate for way too long if she was fantasizing about a guy she hadn’t seen since he was a scrawny teenager, and was way too young for her even if she was interested.
Which she wasn’t.
Definitely not.
She knew all about younger men, having been married to one for five years. Well, three years if she wanted to get technical. They hadn’t lived together for the last two years of the marriage.
Just thinking about Deke made her hands close into fists. How had their marriage gone so wrong? In the beginning, it had seemed like the stuff of fairy tales, and he’d made her feel like a princess. He’d given her everything, denied her nothing.
Rachel had been part of a team of professionals, hired by Deke to manage every aspect of his privileged life. But after just a few days in his company, he’d made it clear he wanted her. He’d pursued her with a single-minded determination that didn’t end, even after he’d left New York. No one could blame her for being swept up in the romance of it all.
Deke had been so wonderful, so charming, so intent on making her happy. And he had. Not just with the extravagant gestures and gifts he’d lavished on her, but with his full and undivided attention, as if the sun rose and set on her.
When Elite Concierge Services had finally let her go, stating she had violated company rules by becoming involved with a client, Deke had promised to make it right. He’d flown her to the Maldives for two weeks, where he’d asked her to marry him, despite the fact they’d only been dating for six weeks.
It hadn’t mattered that he was only twenty-five to her twenty-eight. They’d had so much fun together, and his energy had been boundless. Despite the fact his family claimed she was only interested in his money, Rachel had found Deke’s charm and humor to be his most appealing attributes. Why else would she have signed the prenup? She just hadn’t realized he was more interested in the chase than he was in the relationship.
Once they were actually married, his interest had quickly waned. Deke had started to travel without her, telling her she’d be happier remaining at home. Only they hadn’t had a home, not really. Deke had owned houses and apartments all over the world, but none of them had felt like home. As he’d traveled—to movie premieres, parties, and lavish fund-raisers—she’d remained behind at his luxury apartment in New York City.
When the first photos of Deke with other women had appeared on the covers of tabloid magazines, and on entertainment channels, he’d insisted the paparazzi were just trying to make trouble for him. Rachel had believed him.
But the photos of him with other women became more frequent and more lurid, and she and Deke began spending more time apart than they did together. Rachel acknowledged her own part in the failure of the marriage; his extended absences had bothered her less and less. She wanted more in her life than an absentee husband, and a constant stream of parties with people she neither knew nor especially liked.
Finally, Rachel had moved out of his apartment. She’d determinedly found another job in the personal concierge business, even though it had meant starting at the bottom again. But when Deke didn’t answer her calls or respond to her messages, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the marriage was over via a text message, so she’d flown to his oceanfront villa in California, where she knew he was staying.
The Los Angeles mansion had been filled with people—supermodels and socialites and various celebrities—and Deke had seemed surprised but unenthusiastic to see Rachel. She’d asked to speak to him privately, but he’d insisted whatever she needed to say could be said in front of his friends. When she told him she wanted a divorce, he’d gone quiet. At first, Rachel had thought he seemed surprised, but then realized he was angry and embarrassed.