Hot Spot

by Debbi Rawlins

  The elevator stopped again and the dark-haired woman and her companion got out, neither of them walking particularly steady.

  “We’ll see you guys at the pool in ten minutes,” Vicki called after them.

  The woman grabbed the guy’s backside and laughed when he nearly fell into a plant. “Make it an hour.”

  “Twenty minutes should do it,” he said over his shoulder, and the woman smacked his arm.

  The elevator doors closed, and Vicki sighed. “Remember when we used to be like that?”

  Tom snorted. “What?”

  “Like before we were married.”

  They continued to go back and forth, but Jack wasn’t listening. Not when Madison stood so close that he could smell the chocolate mint that had come with the check on her breath. Not when he could feel her heat so close to his crotch that he had to struggle for control.

  He looked at her at the same time she looked up at him and without hesitation he brushed his lips across hers. She blinked and stiffened. Let her think it was for show. Let her think whatever the hell she wanted. He had to concentrate on not going back for more.

  The elevator dinged, and right before the doors opened, Vicki gave him a final inquisitive look. “Are you sure you aren’t…?”

  “Come on.” Her husband grabbed her around the waist and hauled her out of the car. “It’s not him,” he said as they headed down the corridor. A second before the doors closed again, he added, “A guy like Logan wouldn’t be with a woman like that.”

  Jack felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. He wanted to punch the guy in his big mouth. Coward that he was, he wanted to disappear suddenly and not have to look into Madison’s hurt face.

  She pulled away from him and unnecessarily punched the already lit button to their floor. Painful as it was, he forced himself to look at her.

  She smiled. “They’re tipsy enough, they didn’t recognize you.”

  He nodded, not sure what to say. Maybe she hadn’t heard the rude remark.

  “Well, at least we know to stay away from the pool for a while.”

  “Yeah.” He let silence fill the air between them, and stared up at the lights signaling the passing of each floor.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

  He gazed into her eyes and saw quiet acceptance. She’d heard the buffoon, all right, but she was too gracious to let the thoughtless remark take purchase. “Like you said, they’re tipsy. Besides, that guy’s an idiot.”

  She laughed softly. “My hero.”

  The teasing in her face helped him relax. But he still wouldn’t mind planting his fist in the guy’s nose. He really was an idiot. How could he say that about Madison? Anyone with half a brain could see the intelligence and humor in her face, the brilliance of her smile. Jack hardly knew her and he could see it as plain as day.

  “Hey. Pay attention.” She grinned. “We’re here.”

  The doors had opened.

  Oh, he was paying attention all right. Maybe too much.

  9

  MADISON USED THE KEY CARD to open the suite door and told herself for the tenth time that she absolutely would not allow that bigmouthed blowhard to ruin her day. After all, he hadn’t said anything she didn’t already know. And besides, she accepted her limitations. Fortunately, looks weren’t that important to her.

  She went in ahead of Jack and as she turned back toward him, she got a whiff of the wine soaking the left front of his shirt. “Whoa! Good thing you brought an extra shirt. You’re gonna have to get that one off.”

  One eyebrow went up and then he glanced down at his shirt. He sniffed and frowned. “I see what you mean.”

  “To think we actually drink that stuff.”

  “Somehow it smells different in a glass.”

  “Amen.”

  He closed the door behind him. “I’ll change, then.”

  “Right.” She didn’t know why it suddenly seemed awkward but it did. Maybe he thought she’d gone overboard in playing her role. It had been kind of nice being able to snuggle up to him. To feel the pressure of his backside against her thighs. The mere memory got her heated and she hurried away from him. “I’ll get my camera out of the bedroom and reload it in here while you change.”

  He didn’t respond but when she got into the room, she realized he’d followed her. She grabbed her camera and turned to go and saw that he was already pulling off his shirt.

  She swallowed. Tried not to stare as more and more muscled belly was revealed. And pecs. Perfect pecs. Sinfully perfect. God bless his personal trainer. She sucked in her stomach and swore she’d give up candy bars. As soon as she polished off the supply in her bag.

  Jack yanked his shirt off the rest of the way and rolled it up. Their eyes met and he smiled. She nearly didn’t trust her legs to move. In fact, she didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

  She moistened her suddenly parched lips. “My compliments to your trainer.”

  He frowned blankly and then chuckled. “I’ll let him know you approve. Although he doesn’t work nearly as hard as I do.”

  She couldn’t help giving him another once-over. “Why the hell wouldn’t you want me to take a few shots without your shirt?”

  His smile vanished and he reached for the small bag he’d brought.

  She sighed. “That was really stupid.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Please don’t put your shirt on yet. Shouldn’t I get points for humility and honesty?”

  “You’re not taking any shots of me without my shirt.”

  “Oh, I know. I just wanted to stare for a while. You’re so pretty.”

  Laughing, he shook his head while he withdrew the fresh shirt. Obviously, he thought she was teasing. Good thing. Once again she’d opened her mouth before thinking. That wasn’t the worst of it. The nearly uncontrollable urge to run her palms over the ridges in his belly shook her all the way down to her toes.

  As soon as he pulled the shirt over his head and drew it down, she went into mourning. He truly was beautiful. One shot of that incredible, mouth-watering chest would be enough to get her the cover. Assuming her pounding heart survived long enough to develop the film.

  “All right. Where do you want me?”

  Oh, boy, he so didn’t want to hear her answer. She turned away so he couldn’t see her smile. “Actually, I’d initially thought about moving to the spa but we’d better stay here where it’s safer.”

  A wry smile curved his mouth. “There is no safe place.”

  “You’re right. Take your shirt off again and I’m jumping your bones.”

  “Promise?”

  At the roguish glint in his eyes her heart somersaulted. Ignoring him, she went to the window and opened the drapes halfway. “Over here. We’ll take a shot of you looking out of the window.”

  She turned to find his belt unbuckled and him unzipping his pants. She could only stare, her stomach twisting and knotting so she couldn’t speak or move.

  And then he tucked in his shirt and pulled up the zipper.

  A strangled laugh escaped her. “Be right back.”

  “Madison?”

  “Just a minute.” Thankfully she made it to the parlor without hyperventilating or doing anything incredibly embarrassing.

  She took a couple of deep breaths, then took a couple more before grabbing one of their used coffee cups and a saucer off the room service tray. The cup had residue from a drip down the side, which she took care of with the linen napkin before returning to the room.

  “Here,” she said, approaching him, her composure restored. “Pretend you’re sipping from the cup as you look out the window.”

  “We did a ‘looking out the window’ shot already.”

  “We’re doing another one.”

  “I see that.” Sighing, he took the cup but not the saucer. “Are we almost done?”

  “What do you think?”

  He gave her an impatient look, and th
en walked over to the window and stood stiff as a statute.

  “Very funny.” She set the saucer aside and got her camera. “If you want to ever get out of here, cooperation is the name of the game.”

  “Hey, I’ve been pretty good.”

  “Right. Turn toward the window.”

  He obliged, but not before giving her a long, measuring look that set her insides tingling.

  “Okay, now raise the cup halfway to your lips.” She focused. “Could you not look as if you hate the city…the world…life in general?”

  “Why?”

  She had to laugh. He did, too, and she got a fantastic shot. “Okay, stay with me.” She snapped another, and then another.

  Even though he was looking at her and not out of the window, the sudden kaleidoscope of emotion in his face was exactly what she was looking for. But after several more shots, his face tightened. The magic was gone.

  She slowly lowered the camera. What had just happened? Their eyes met briefly and then he looked away—he was the moodiest man she’d ever met.

  She understood that some people simply couldn’t relax in front of the camera. Obviously he wasn’t one of them. He made his living doing live TV, for goodness’ sake.

  “Why are you so tense all of a sudden?” she asked, a bit too snappishly. So she added, “Tell me what I can do to make you relax.”

  He blinked, his keen eyes gleaming, and then his mouth curved in a sexy smile that had her gulping hard. “I can think of several things.”

  “Such as?”

  One eyebrow went up. “You don’t do coy well.”

  She gaped in disbelief. “You’re not suggesting—” She couldn’t finish her thought. It was too absurd. Her heart flip-flopped.

  “Actually, I am.”

  Madison didn’t know what to say. She just stared, waiting for him to start laughing or something. But he didn’t. In fact, he seemed shockingly serious.

  “Okay, enough joking around.” Frustrated and more than a little flustered, she took the coffee cup from him. If he wanted to play games, she knew just how to shut him up. “Here, let’s try this.”

  His startled expression was almost satisfaction enough. “What’s that?”

  “Stay where you are but I want you to put your left hand in your pocket.”

  He frowned, but did as she asked.

  “Now use your other hand to kind of comb your hair back.” When he didn’t move, she tilted her head to the side and pushed her fingers through her own hair and said, “Like this.”

  “No way.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not posing like that.”

  “Cliché, I know, but—”

  “It’s ridiculous.”

  She sighed and lowered her hand. Odd, she knew she’d get this reaction, that he’d balk at the sexy pose, but now she really wanted that particular picture. “How many variations have you seen of that pose in different magazines? Because it works. It’s time honored. It’s not ridiculous.” She groaned at the stubbornness on his face. “We don’t necessarily have to use the shot but I really want this. Please, Logan.”

  He stared at her for what seemed an eternity and then quietly said, “Okay.”

  She grinned. “Okay.”

  He stretched out his neck, rolled his shoulders, inhaled deeply, as if he were preparing to get into a boxing ring instead of striking a simple pose. His left hand was still jammed in his pocket balled so tightly she could see a fist, and he used his right hand to woodenly cup the back of his head.

  She tried not to laugh. But she couldn’t help it and a strangled giggle escaped her.

  He quickly lowered his hand and withdrew the other from his pocket, muttering, “I told you this was ridiculous.”

  “No, you’re making it ridiculous.” She tried not to even smile or she’d end up giggling more. “Relax, would you?”

  “You’re right. I am tense.” He stretched this way and that and grimaced. “It would help if you rubbed my shoulders.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m serious. I’m all knotted up. It’s a chronic problem I have.”

  Against her better judgment, she set aside her camera. She gingerly cupped her hands on his shoulders and slid her palms toward his neck. His muscles were tight all right, but not just from tension. Hard and defined, they made her gliding palms itch to connect with bare skin.

  “You’ll have to do better than that. I won’t break.”

  “Um, I think you’re gonna have to sit down. It’s hard to get a good grip at this angle.”

  He didn’t hesitate, but instead of taking the chair, he sat on the corner of the bed.

  No big deal, really. Except that she had the sudden urge to push him back and tear off his clothes. Of course, that would probably put an end to the shoot, and she really needed to pay her rent for the next few months.

  He spread his legs and dropped his chin to his chest. “Right here is the worst of it,” he said, indicating the area where his neck and shoulder joined. “Don’t be afraid to really dig in. I like a hard massage.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Look, I wouldn’t ask you to do this except we’re obviously not going to get anywhere unless I loosen up.”

  “With all the working out you do I’m surprised you’re not more relaxed.”

  “Believe me, it would be a lot worse if I didn’t work out or have a masseuse pound on me twice a week.”

  “Job pressure?”

  He hesitated. “Maybe.”

  Apparently she was getting too personal. Still, she wondered what had him wound so tight. Of course being in his position probably was enough to keep a person on edge. “Just remember this is cutting into shooting time, and—” She stabbed a particularly stubborn knot with her thumb and he groaned.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, go for it. The harder the better.”

  Her mind shot off in a totally different direction and she bit her lip. Man, did she have to get a grip on herself. She couldn’t get off track, not with so little time.…Maybe he was trying to distract her. Maybe she should call his bluff. They could screw like bunnies for an hour, get it out of their systems and then finish the shoot. Would make for some interesting pictures.

  He hunched forward. “That spot right between the shoulder blades…yeah, that’s it.”

  She used as much pressure as she could while standing at such an odd angle. He moaned softly, almost erotically, and she counted to ten in Spanish, then in French, then German and finally in Japanese. That’s all the languages she knew up to ten, although she could probably get to twenty in Spanish. But it wasn’t going to help.

  Even while she distracted herself, her body had a memory of its own. Her nipples had tightened and her mouth had gone completely dry. Each time she rubbed his back harder, she seemed to unconsciously lean closer, her breasts coming dangerously close to grazing his back.

  Briefly she wondered how he’d react. She could test the waters by pressing against him and pretend it was an accident. But she’d only end up hurting herself. The day had been murderous enough already without incurring more awkward moments or tension.

  “Hmm, that feels good,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, it does.” She gasped, appalled at what she’d said. “I love massages,” she quickly added. “I don’t get enough of them.” The fact that she’d never had one in her life was irrelevant since he didn’t know any different.

  “Guess I’m going to owe you one after this. Do you like them hard?”

  “The harder the better.”

  He laughed. “I’m not touching that one.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Ah, right there.” He arched his back and moaned appreciatively as she worked her thumbs around the base of his neck. “Can you feel that knot?”

  “Are you kidding? I thought I found a lost borough.” Amazing that she could joke when his musky scent had all but surrounded her. She wanted so badly to touch his skin. To feel for stubble along his jaw
.

  Why in the hell hadn’t she asked him not to shave for a day or two? That slightly rough look would have had the judging editors drooling. They wouldn’t be able to give her the cover fast enough.

  “Are your hands tired yet?” he asked, his voice low and languid. “You can stop at any time.”

  “It’s not my hands, it’s my lower back. I’m standing at a funky angle.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry.” He pulled away.

  “No. It’s okay.” She gripped his rock-hard right bicep and urged him back toward her. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  The type of shirt he wore disguised just what great condition he was in, and she was reluctant to let go even after he leaned back. But he didn’t stay put.

  He stood and turned to her with spread hands. “I’m willing to return the favor.”

  “That’s okay,” she muttered. “I’d rather get back to work.”

  “Ah, that.” He looked genuinely disappointed.

  “Tell you what, after we’re done I’ll give you an even better massage.”

  Surprise flashed in his eyes before they gleamed with pure masculine interest. “I’m holding you to that promise.”

  Her heart pounded. My, oh, my, but wasn’t she getting bold. “All right,” she said, all business again, even though her pulse had gone completely nuts. “We’ll try something different. Pose the way you’d like to see yourself.”

  “Me?” He snorted. “Well, I sure wouldn’t be standing here.”

  She sobered at his abrupt change in attitude. Why he suddenly decided to be difficult she had no clue, but she was running out of time and patience. “Okay, where would you be?”

  He hesitated, probably because she sounded so patronizing, and then his lips curved slowly as if he were deciding whether to play the game. “At home.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Reading a book.”

  “Where?”