Private Lies Read online

  Private Lies

  Cat Johnson

  Copyright

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.

  PRIVATE LIES

  28 Days of Heart Series

  Copyright © 2010 CAT JOHNSON

  Cover art by Amanda Kelsey

  Edited by Nicole Bunting

  All Romance eBooks, LLC

  Palm Harbor, Florida 34684

  www.allromanceebooks.com

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First All Romance eBooks publication: February 2010

  Foreword

  “Nothing’s better than a healthy heart, which helps women endure the ailments of life—physical or romantic—and come out on top of it all. This anthology, with stories by some of the most talented romance writers in the market, will benefit hearts everywhere. It’s not often you can contribute to a worthy cause, one that may well affect you in your lifetime, and at the same time assure yourself of some excellent entertainment. Have a good time, and let your heart be your guide.”

  Charlaine Harris

  Dedication

  To Chris, for the idea.

  To everyone from Briar Hall Country Club, where I spent many, many hours during my younger days making strong drinks, good friends, and great memories.

  Prologue

  The depth of Giovanni’s cries spoke his passion.

  That didn’t surprise Jacqueline Monroe Scarpelli one bit. Her husband Gio was a passionate man. Sultry, foreign, vibrant, and the most brilliant painter she’d ever seen. His artist’s temperament made him ardent and sensitive, but also sometimes moody and reclusive. Though he’d never stay that way long and would make it up to her in the most incredible and inventive, toe-curling ways.

  Jax closed her eyes to fully absorb each and every vocal nuance, recognizing as the volume rose, the resonance that signaled Gio’s impending orgasm.

  She should be familiar with the growing crescendo. In their ten-month marriage, and during their short three-month courtship before eloping, she had experienced the symphony of his lovemaking more times than she could count. His progression from the words of love whispered in heavily accented English to shouts in Italian that she couldn’t understand but still knew instinctively their meaning.

  Mouth dry, Jax’s stomach tensed and her heart rate sped in reaction to Gio’s lovemaking.

  This time, however, was different than all the others. Very different. Tonight, Jax stood outside of Gio’s art studio, and the feminine cries of pleasure answering Gio’s inside were not hers.

  Hand frozen on the doorknob, Jax listened to her husband skillfully screwing another woman while he thought Jax was still at a Junior League meeting. It was obvious to Jax that she was the one being screwed here, and not in a good way. But the main thought dominating her spinning brain, more than anger, hurt, or jealousy, was this—her mother had been right and she would likely never, ever let Jax forget it.

  Jax pulled her hand back from the knob. Hearing her husband’s affair was bad enough; there was no way she wanted to see it too. Considering what to do next, Jax ran all ten manicured fingers through her straight, perfectly cut and highlighted blond hair and tried to think. Tiptoeing her designer, kitten-heeled, alligator slides away from the door, Jax pulled her cell phone out of this season’s hottest new bag and reluctantly dialed the number of the one man who could help her.

  When he answered, she whispered, “Daddy? I need your help.”

  Chapter One

  “I can’t believe what Gio did to you. You poor thing.” Kitty VanSmoot McIntyre shook her head.

  Jax groaned. “Can we change the subject? I don’t think I can talk about this anymore.”

  Besides having Kitty call her a poor thing, which she hated beyond measure, Jax had already gotten more than an earful of I told you so from her mother regarding the Gio situation.

  “I totally understand. We’ll go shopping soon and take your mind off of him.”

  “Uh, sure.” Shopping? That was supposed to cure her?

  Kitty accepted her Dirty Martini poured “up” with extra olives from the server with a sly smile. Once the black and white clad, tall, dark, and Latin waiter was out of earshot, Kitty glanced over her shoulder to make sure her husband was still outside and couldn’t hear, then leaned in. “Mmm mmm. I bet his tamales are hot.”

  Seekie Harrington Smith watched the waiter walk away while she sucked on the stirrer from her vodka and club soda with a lime. “I, for one, can tell you that his tamale,” Seekie held up and wiggled her pinky finger, “is not so impressive.”

  Jax opened her eyes wide. Seekie’s husband wasn’t even outside. He was just feet from them, deeply involved in a conversation about his golf swing with a married female member whose breasts were more exposed than not. Was Jax the only married person left on earth who didn’t cheat on their spouse?

  Glancing around the club’s cocktail lounge, Seekie continued slyly, “Now, the new bartender over there…”

  The unfinished but very suggestive sentence hung in the air.

  Jax felt herself unable to avoid glancing at the well-built, dark-haired man in question, right along with her shameless and apparently not so faithfully married childhood friends. Admittedly, he was mouthwateringly hot as he moved smoothly behind the bar. Jax bet he’d be smooth at doing lots of things.

  She glanced quickly away the moment she realized that the three of them had swiveled their heads to stare at him as one, like a team of synchronized swimmers, just as the bartender glanced in their direction.

  Great. One drink with her friends and they were right back to acting like they were all boy crazy teens again. Jax had memories of sitting around the pool thirteen years ago as she, Kitty, and Seekie ogled the lifeguards and assistant golf pros.

  Meanwhile, her mother was less than subtly trying to get her attention. Jax sighed. “Excuse me for a moment. My mother seems to be having some sort of fit. I better go see what she wants.”

  The two women nodded and went back to gossiping about the male club employees. Some things never changed.

  Her mother sat across the room at a cocktail table with a few other women. All of their husbands were outside, smoking cigars on the terrace that overlooked the seventeenth tee of the club’s golf course. Jax sauntered over as slowly as she could, dreading what unexpected joy might come out of the woman’s mouth next.

  “Jacqueline, darling. There’s not a server to be had anywhere. Be a dear and get me another vodka and cranberry from the bar.”

  Jax frowned and glanced at the waiter not ten feet from them as her mother continued, “Oh, and while you’re there, make sure to say hello to Dr. Johnston and his grandson. He’s staying at the Johnstons’ for a few weeks.”

  That explained it. Now that her father’s lawyers were working on her divorce, this was all part of the “get Jacqueline remarried to an appropriate man” plan.

  Taking a deep breath, Jax toyed with the idea of telling her mother to jump in the deep end of the pool. Visions of foiling the obvious matchmaking plans by sending Seekie’s Latin lover waiter over with her mother’s damned drink danced in her head. But instead of doing any of those things, Jax decided she better choose her battles. This could prove to be a really long night.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Oh, and tell that bartender Grey Goose this time, not that cheap brand he’s so fond of pouring. Probably be
cause it costs half as much per bottle. They think we can’t tell when it’s mixed with juice, but I can taste the difference in vodkas immediately. I have a very sensitive palate.” Meredith Monroe directed the end of that discourse to her cronies.

  Obviously dismissed, Jax steered a path toward the bartender, bypassing old Doc Johnston and family in favor of going to the far side of the bar, which was far less crowded and held less potential for her mother’s matchmaking.

  Seekie’s purportedly well-endowed bartender faced away from Jax, busy pouring drinks. She stood for a few moments, patiently waiting while she watched the muscles in his broad back move beneath the thin fabric of his white shirt. From what she could see, he was a big guy all around—tall, wide shoulders, tiny waist, tight ass—and possibly fooling around with Seekie and who knew how many of the other married women at the country club, Jax reminded herself.

  Just what she needed, another man in her life who was sleeping around. Although, the best way to get over someone was to get right back on the horse, so to speak, wasn’t it? A hot night of even hotter sex might be just what she needed to get rid of any last traces of Gio, but she should probably choose a horse her friends hadn’t already ridden.

  Though Seekie had insinuated this guy was quite a stud, and having a personal recommendation was always a good thing. Honestly, how could a girl go wrong with a man who was tall, dark, and muscle-bound with piercing green eyes that bore into you when you ignored him…

  Uh oh. He’d finished what he was doing and was standing right in front of her, obviously waiting for her to respond to something he’d said.

  “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” She’d been too busy daydreaming.

  His coming toward her in real life had melded with the imaginings running through her head. In her defense, they had been really good visions. Him, strutting toward her naked as she waited in a big, soft bed. Damn it, if she didn’t concentrate, she’d miss what he was saying all over again.

  “I said, this area is for servers only. Members are supposed to order on the other side of the bar.”

  Jax finally noticed the small sign that read Servers Only and the brass railing that delineated this area from the rest of the bar.

  “Oh. No wonder it wasn’t crowded over here. Sorry.” She let out a nervous giggle and turned to move to the other side of the bar, when a large strong, slightly work-roughened hand grabbed hers.

  “Hold on. It’s okay.” He smiled. “As long as you’re here, you might as well tell me what you wanted.”

  There was no way she could tell him what she really wanted, so instead she said, “My mother wants a vodka and cranberry and she said to tell you to make sure it’s Grey Goose vodka.”

  “Wow. Interesting. Grey Goose is your mother. Huh. I would have never guessed that.” Shaking his head, he grabbed a tall glass and packed it with ice.

  “Why is that interesting? And you better not let her hear you calling her Grey Goose. It sounds like you’re saying she’s old.”

  One brow cocked up toward his hairline as he smirked. Holding up the brand her mother had specified so Jax could clearly see, he poured the clear liquor into the glass with one hand while filling it with the cranberry juice in his other. “I wasn’t insinuating any such thing. In fact, I’ve noticed in my short time behind this bar that women around here tend to get younger looking rather than older. Particularly after they return from an extended vacation.”

  He smiled when his comment had her choking on a laugh. Her mother had gone on a few surgical “vacations” herself. Regaining her composure, Jax said, “You still didn’t tell me why it’s interesting who my mother is.”

  Shrugging, he slipped a straw into the drink, slapped a cocktail napkin on the bar and slid the glass across to her. “Just an observation, is all. Didn’t mean anything by that either.”

  He scribbled on a chit and then placed it and the pencil in front of her to sign for the vodka. She glanced down and realized he’d already printed the name Monroe and their account number, M15. Jax looked up in surprise. “You know our last name and our account number by heart?”

  “And which single-malt scotch your father prefers, as well as what vodka your mother drinks, even though she never believes that I actually pour it for her.” A wry smile twisted the features of his gorgeous face.

  “But there are like five hundred families who belong to this club.”

  “And less than fifty of them are regulars.”

  She shrugged. “Even so. Fifty is still a lot to remember. It’s impressive.”

  He laughed. “At least I impress someone around here. Look, I hate to cut you short, but Martini Extra Dry is standing over there giving me the eye for ignoring him. You want anything else?”

  Yes. Him. In bed and sweaty. Hell, she didn’t even need a bed. The bench in the ladies’ locker room would do. And now she was acting as badly as Seekie and Kitty. “Um. No. This is it. Thank you.”

  He paused long enough to stare into her eyes until she felt he had searched her very core. Then with a quick nod and a “You’re welcome,” he was gone.

  Drink in hand and still in a sex fantasy haze, Jax spun and found herself face to face with old Doc Johnston, who apparently had followed her to the bar and had in mind the same matchmaking agenda as her mother. That was obvious as he thrust his grandson in front of her.

  “Jacqueline. Have you met my son’s boy, Arthur? Arthur, Jacqueline Monroe. You two should get together and talk. You have a lot in common.” The old man leaned toward her conspiratorially. “Arthur’s divorcing, too.”

  Jax felt bad for poor, red-faced Arthur. He was no happier about this than she was. On top of that, the unfortunate guy had been cursed with the Johnston family looks. He was about Jax’s height in her heels and had a slight curve in his spine that hunched him over, making him appear even shorter. Add to that the already thinning hair even though he was barely thirty, and the glasses and pinched features, and Jax had to think it was lucky he’d been born rich. But something about the man warmed her to him. Perhaps misery loved company, and if nothing else, he looked as miserable as she felt.

  “You know what, Dr. Johnston? I think that is an excellent idea. I sure could use someone to talk to. But right now, Mother will have a fit if I don’t get this drink right over to her before the ice waters down the vodka. Have to keep Mother happy, you know.” She sent Arthur a warm smile and winked.

  After the briefest moment of surprise, he grinned back at her, letting her know they were both on the same page where their meddling families were concerned. “I completely understand. Pleasure meeting you, Jacqueline.”

  “Dr. Johnston. Arthur.” Taking her leave, she turned to go, but then said over her shoulder as an afterthought, “And please, Arthur, call me Jax.”

  The younger Johnston nodded. “Jax.”

  Armed with an unexpected ally in Arthur, she returned to her mother with renewed hope and a new plan. In the midst of this privileged world existed some of the most duplicitous behavior on earth. Jax knew it well. After all, hadn’t she been raised here? Weaned on lies, infidelity, fake smiles, and false friendships. Maybe the best way to beat them was to join them.

  With a smile in her mother’s direction as she delivered her drink, Jax formulated her strategy.

  “Did you talk to Arthur?”

  “I did, Mother. I really like him. I think I’ll call and see if he wants to go out.”

  “Well, it’s about time you got your head on straight. I’ve been telling you since you were in your first training bra, you can love a rich man as easily as a poor one.”

  “Yes, Mother, and you’re absolutely right.”

  “Did you tell that bartender Grey Goose?”

  Remembering the nickname, Jax hid her smile. “Yes, and I watched him pour it.”

  Her mother stirred and then tasted her drink. “Ah. There. You see. I can tell the difference every time.”

  Jax rolled her eyes and went back to her table, wishing she’d
gotten herself a drink from Mr. Hottie bartender too. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Two

  Shane Reynolds watched the Monroe’s blond-haired, blue-eyed, and even bluer-blooded daughter move along the edges of his peripheral vision as he ran the damp rag over the top of the bar. He’d never seen her around before tonight.

  It just figured that Grey Goose, the legendary bitch of Canton Country Club, would have one hot number for a daughter. Of all the women there, the only one who even piqued his interest and she was that she-devil’s daughter.

  He did respect Jackson Monroe, though. After all, the man had the good sense to hire him, so the girl’s gene pool wasn’t all bad. Of course, the fact Monroe had hired him for this job probably made his daughter off limits if Shane ever wanted to be considered for other assignments in the future. Monroe walked by the bar now, tipping his head in a barely noticeable nod in his direction. Shane returned the greeting and reminded himself it definitely was smart to keep his hands off the boss’ daughter.

  Pity. Shane allowed himself one more glance at the temptation he’d never partake of. She was probably too good to be true anyway. He’d been here nearly a month and in that time he’d learned that it didn’t matter how good they looked on the outside, they could be harboring some scary shit on the inside. Flirting with the help, right under their rich husbands’ noses, a few even offering up promises of more than flirting. Letting their hands “accidentally” brush against his crotch or ass. Leaning over when ordering to make sure he could see down their already obscenely low-cut dresses.

  Not the Monroe girl, though. She’d actually treated him like a human. An equal. It was a nice change.

  Movement at the back of the bar caught his eye and Shane turned and found Jackson Monroe himself standing in the servers’ area, trying to get his attention. What was it with the Monroe family and that side of the bar? He made his way over. “Yes, sir.”