An Irresistible Bachelor Read Free Page B

months. In all likelihood, he was going to run for governor of the commonwealth of Massachusetts and he knew she would handle the stress of his candidacy with the same calm confidence with which she managed everything.
    He valued her. He enjoyed having her in his life. The fact that he didn’t love her was the only thing missing, but he didn’t consider it a problem. That particular kind of passion just wasn’t something he had in him. For any woman.
    â€œSo maybe the question is more, why are you marrying me?” he asked.
    â€œBecause I love you and I think we make a good team.”
    â€œWe are a great team.”
    â€œSo talk to me. What’s wrong?”
    He shook his head resolutely, not about to tell her he was dreaming of some other woman. “Blair, trust me. There’s nothing going on that you need to be worried about.”
    â€œOkay, okay.” She ran a soothing hand over his shoulder; it was something she did a lot. She had a way of handling him that he liked. Calming, but not patronizing. “But I hope you’ll tell me at some point. I prefer to know bad news sooner rather than later.”
    She lay down and gradually relaxed against him, her breaths becoming deep and even.
    Jack stared at the ceiling as she slept in his arms. When he finally closed his eyes, visions of the redhead drifted into his mind.
    It was just a dream, he told himself. The images, the sensations, had more to do with his libido than some woman he’d met for how long? Ten minutes?
    Besides, he’d always preferred blondes and he had a loving, wonderful one right here in his arms. He was a man with a plan and nothing was going to change the course of his life.

2
    CALLIE BURKE stepped out into the brisk October wind and pulled up her collar, feeling the rough scratch of it on her neck. The old wool coat had been her protection against cold, windy New York winters for years, just one more thing in her life that she needed to replace and couldn’t afford to.
    She glanced back at the art gallery she’d worked in for the past eighteen months and put her hands into her pockets, feeling her last paycheck through her mittens. Stanley, her boss, her former boss, hadn’t wanted to let her go. Business, however, was slow because of the bad economy and he hadn’t had much choice. People just weren’t buying like they had during the dot-com years, and financial reality had to prevail over all the interpersonal stuff.
    She sure could have used more notice, though. Just this morning, she’d gone in assuming her job was secure.
    Stepping forward, she joined the grim rush of pedestrians.
    The gallery had been a good place to work. It put a roof, however modest, over her head and kept her in the art racket, even if she wasn’t doing conservation projects. The place was also located in the Chelsea section of Manhattan, only blocks away from her apartment.
    And she’d liked Stanley in spite of his theatrics and his codependent relationship with Ralph, his teacup poodle. She hadn’t been all that fond of Ralphie. Four pounds of bad attitude backed up with a bark that could shatter glass just wasn’t endearing—no matter what Stanley said.
    Callie grimaced, thinking she would miss the place, and then pushed the temptation to sink into self-pity aside. She had real financial problems. Even with the check, she had only about seven hundred dollars to her name and rent was due in a week.
    She thought about what she had to sell. There wasn’t much back at her apartment. Her mother’s jewelry had been used long ago to pay off medical bills. Callie’s furniture, which had come from thrift stores and flea markets, wasn’t going to bring more than two cents. And her old TV had been stolen months ago when her apartment was broken into.
    The fact that the thieves hadn’t taken anything else showed how little the rest of her stuff was worth.
    She tried to think about