Open Invitation

by Tiffany White

  His eyes flicked up to hers. “I think you did it because you want me as much as I want you,” he challenged.

  She managed to twist her feet from his grasp. “I did it to get back at you,” she said, tucking her feet beneath her.

  “To get back at me. What did I do?”

  “What did you do! You fought having me for your cohost every inch of the way.”

  He refused to rise to her bait. “I didn’t do anything different than you would have if our situation had been reversed.”

  His words stopped her. He’d said them with complete conviction. For him it was professional competition, nothing personal. Had she been kidding herself? Was what he said the truth?

  Kyle grabbed a handful of popcorn and wedged the bowl between his thighs. “Go ahead. Don’t be shy. Help yourself to a handful whenever you want,” he offered, teasing her out of her silence.

  She shot him a schoolteacher look of reprimand.

  “All right, okay,” he said, returning the bowl of popcorn to the coffee table in front of them. “But you can’t blame a guy for trying.” His smile was sly and wicked. “As I remember, I really like how your reach doesn’t exceed your … ah … grasp. Any possibility your fantasy involves popcorn?” he asked. “You know, on the slim chance you might win tonight.”

  “No popcorn.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  He tossed a few kernels into his mouth and thought a moment. “Butter?” he asked hopefully, a seductive glint in his eyes.

  Amanda just looked at him.

  “Guess not, huh?” he said, slipping out of his tuxedo jacket and tossing it aside. He rolled up his shirtsleeves, waiting.

  “Right,” he said finally when she didn’t answer him.

  They managed to devour the popcorn by the time the lesser awards were handed out.

  The Oscar currently being announced was for best supporting actor. Their choice for best supporting actress won earlier in the show. They were in a one-to-one tie, and this award wouldn’t break it since they’d both picked the same supporting actor to win.

  When the winner was announced, they were both right again, and the score between them was still a tie.

  “Now we’re getting down to the real nitty-gritty,” Kyle said, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. The best actress award was to be announced after the upcoming commercial.

  “Can I put my feet up?” he asked, removing his patent loafers and moving the empty popcorn bowl from the coffee table to the floor.

  “Sure. Make yourself comfortable,” Amanda answered, regretting her words a second later when he did just that, sliding his arm around her shoulders and drawing her into the curve of his arm.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Pretending we’re in the balcony,” he answered with an incorrigible smile.

  “Is that where you got interested in movies?”

  “It’s where I got interested in a lot of things.”

  She tore her gaze away from the invitation in his eyes and made a pretense of being interested in which detergent got her clothes cleanest. The awards came back on, and Kyle’s attention also returned to the television screen.

  “This is where you start losing,” he promised.

  “Dream on. There’s no way that sex kitten is going to win an award.”

  Kyle shrugged. “Depends on how many men are in the academy.”

  “Some men have taste.”

  “I’d rather have a libido.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve got both.”

  He was right, of course. About everything. The sex kitten won.

  Kyle chuckled as Amanda’s bottom lip puckered into a barely detectable and very delectable pout.

  Reaching over, he trailed his finger along the curve of her jaw. “Well, it looks like it’s going to be my night, doesn’t it? Let’s see now, I’ll be needing silk scarves…” He leaned in to nibble at her provocative bottom lip. “Four of them,” he whispered, sending goose bumps across her shoulders.

  “I only have two,” Amanda lied, pretending innocence.

  “Well, we’ll just have to improvise, then, won’t we?” he said, trailing his finger along the edge of her slit skirt and over her stockinged leg.

  “But you haven’t won yet,” she said, pushing his hand away and forcing herself to pull back from the warm, sultry atmosphere his nearness created.

  “But I will,” he promised. “The gods are with me tonight. I’m planning ahead, is all.”

  “Then plan on going home, because you’re going to lose.”

  “Amanda, sweet. You’re simply not paying attention. I’m already in the lead.”

  “But it’s not over—”

  “Till it’s over. I know. But what about this feeling I’ve got in my gut that this thing between us is never going to be over?” he murmured.

  Amanda looked away. He knew all the right words to say. If only he meant them. But, of course, he didn’t. Men like him never did. How did women resist men who were so devastatingly handsome, charming and sexy?

  She knew the answer: they didn’t.

  And lived to regret it, she warned herself. Still, if she went into this with her eyes wide open…

  The next award was up, and their attention returned to the television screen, the score between them three to two, with Kyle in the lead.

  The Oscar was for best director, and they both lost as the academy picked the director of the popular action/adventure film nominated.

  “Getting nervous yet?” Kyle asked, not bothering to hide his delight at still being in the lead. He got up and headed for the galley kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” she called, turning to look over her shoulder.

  Kyle stood with his hands braced on his knees, peering inside her refrigerator. “Just checking,” was his muffled reply. As she watched he shifted his weight to one foot, stretching the sleek tuxedo pants snug over his tight buttocks.

  She turned back around, covered her eyes with her hands and shook her head.

  Moments later he returned empty-handed and sat back down beside her.

  “You’re out of whipped cream,” he said with a sexy wink.

  “You’re a crazy man.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “And who made me crazy, sending me those hot letters?” he asked, running his fingertip along the scalloped edge of her black satin camisole. “And crazier still when I found out it was you,” he growled.

  “Will you please forget about those letters,” she said through gritted teeth, pushing his hand away.

  “Make me,” he dared, his voice low and wickedly suggestive as the next Oscar was announced for presentation. It was the Oscar for best actor. Since they had agreed with each other on a nominee, it didn’t affect the score they were keeping between them. This time their pick was on target, and the score remained in Kyle’s favor, four to three.

  Amanda glanced over at him after the announcement.

  He showed no mercy. “So. Got anything in leather?” he purred, running his hands through his shaggy blond hair as he stretched. The action pulled open one of the studs on his tuxedo shirt.

  She ignored his question and tried not to drool.

  He wouldn’t let it drop. “Minis, thigh-high boots, whips…”

  She swallowed and looked away. No wonder his fantasy was an inch thick!

  He ran his finger along the table backing the love seat and got her attention when he brought his fingertip close to his eyes for inspection. He shook his head sorrowfully at the dust he’d collected.

  “Tsk, tsk,” he clucked. “You obviously don’t own a feather duster. Now if you did, I could show you things…”

  A trickle of perspiration slithered between Amanda’s breasts.

  “That’s okay,” he said with the good humor of someone with a winning hand. “I like to shop. I can pick up the
feather duster when I get the whipped cream and…other things.”

  “I’m going to scream,” Amanda muttered under her breath.

  Kyle leaned close, tipping her chin with his dusty forefinger. Smiling wickedly into her eyes, he said, “Count on it.”

  His words were like putting a match to kindling, igniting the passion seething inside her. Frightened by how easily Kyle could intoxicate her with his love words, Amanda returned her attention to the television screen as an actress famous for her outrageous style as much as for her acting began the presentation of the Oscar for best song.

  Amanda’s palms began to sweat.

  She held her breath. On this one she’d gone against her own tastes. She liked the rock-and-roll sound track from the movie Kyle had picked, but she didn’t think the older members of the academy would vote for it.

  They didn’t. Her pick won the Oscar for best song.

  As she leaped up enthusiastically and applauded their choice, Kyle remained seated, appreciating the soft bounce of her breasts, obviously unrestrained beneath her sexy black camisole.

  “Now look who’s feeling cocky,” Kyle said, laughing up at the smug look of triumph shining on her face.

  “You lose, Kyle,” she promised, looking down at him. “There’s no way you can win now. Not with that off-the-wall pick you made for best picture.”

  “It’s not over till—” he began, mocking her with her own words.

  “Oh, it’s over,” she said, interrupting him. “I might as well start boiling the tar right now.”

  “Tar!” Kyle’s eyes widened in a pretense of alarm. “Have mercy, woman,” he begged, sliding from the love seat to his knees before her.

  “I did. I tore up the fantasy I wrote about having you drawn and quartered,” she said, smiling down on him with exaggerated sweetness.

  She became aware immediately that Kyle was not at any disadvantage being on his knees before her.

  Tilting her hips forward gently with his hands, he nuzzled her belly with his chin and gazed up at her with a seductive gleam in his eyes.

  “Whatever happened to those other fantasies you used to have about me, Amanda? I liked them ever so much better.”

  Desire, hot and urgent, spiraled upward from where Kyle’s chin rested on her belly. Coherent thought became impossible. “Uh…”

  “Want to call it a tie and break off the bet before you lose?” he offered, his voice amused and husky.

  As she looked down at him, she gave his offer serious consideration. In the end her stubbornness prevailed.

  “No. I always keep my bargains. Besides—” she tossed her head regally “—I’m going to win.”

  “But you might not,” Kyle said, rising to his feet.

  “I’ll take my chances,” she said, lifting her chin.

  He laughed at her show of defiance. “Aren’t you going to offer me the same bargain I made you?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  His laugh was low and wicked as he pulled her down beside him on the love seat. “You know what I want.”

  She bit her lip, then expelled her breath when she saw that the commercials were over and the film clips of the nominees for best picture were flashing on the screen.

  They both watched as the star of the year’s hit musical announced the nominees and took her own sweet time slitting open the envelope containing the winner.

  Amanda and Kyle couldn’t have been any more keyed up if they’d been in a nominated film.

  Against all odds, Kyle’s off-the-wall pick won.

  Amanda couldn’t believe her ears. Kyle had won the contest on a fluke! The score between them ended at five to four in Kyle’s favor.

  “Ahem….”

  She turned to the sound of Kyle clearing his throat mischievously.

  His slow grin was lethal as their eyes met.

  “I believe,” he drawled, “this is where you say, ‘The envelope, please.’”

  CHAPTER NINE

  AMANDA EYED the thick envelope Kyle withdrew from the pocket of the tuxedo jacket he’d discarded on the love seat.

  “There’s nothing illegal in your fantasy, is there?” she asked, searching for a way out.

  Kyle laughed. “Probably, in some states. If that’s a problem, I’m not above taking you across the state line,” he promised with an unrepentant wink as he reached for her.

  “I think I’d better read it first,” she said, staving him off as she snatched the envelope from his hand.

  “Uh-uh,” Kyle said, taking the envelope back. “I think you’d better kiss me first.”

  Amanda’s eyes narrowed as she assessed him suspiciously. “How do I know there’s kissing in your fantasy unless I read it?”

  “Oh, it’s in there,” Kyle assured her. Twirling an imaginary villain’s mustache, he lowered his voice to a cautionary whisper. “Kissing and worse.”

  “Worse?”

  “Okay, better,” he breathed, his lips brushing hers sensually, urging them to open to him.

  Her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned her back against the arm of the love seat, discarding the envelope on the coffee table.

  Their bodies made full contact as his tongue slipped into the warm, moist recesses of her mouth. Delicious shivers swept through her, intensified by the ritual of thrust and parry. He pulled back from her lips for breath, his mouth open, his teeth raking delicately over her jaw and down the tender flesh of her throat. His hands slipped beneath her hips, pulling her up to meet the hard evidence of his arousal. He ground his hips against hers once, then flung himself away from her on a tortured groan.

  “No. This is all going too fast,” he said, trying to regain control of his raging passion. When his breathing returned to normal, he looked down at his watch. “It’s already almost midnight. I think it’s only fair that we reschedule this for tomorrow night, say around seven?”

  How could he stop! Amanda wanted to kill him. Slowly. She didn’t want to stop. What she wanted was for the wondering, the dancing around each other, the sexual tension between them—the torture—to stop.

  That would only happen if they made love.

  “Promise me you won’t look at my fantasy until you’re in the bath tomorrow right before I arrive,” he said, ignoring her pique as he slipped on his shoes and shrugged on his jacket.

  Amanda nodded reluctantly, willing him to just leave.

  He provoked her further by kissing her lightly on the nose and saying, “I still have to shop, remember?”

  As he left, it was clear to Amanda that this was just a game to him. He intended to savor his victory, nothing more.

  She gathered up the empty cola cans and popcorn bowl, carrying them to the kitchen after switching off the TV.

  Her anger simmered as she rinsed the bowl, and she let the job offer from the New York syndicate seep into her thoughts. It was only fair that she tell Kyle. Still, she hadn’t been entirely certain she would until now. His little stunt tonight had made up her mind. Even if she didn’t take the job, she wanted him to know about the offer. She would tell him, all right. After she’d honored their bet.

  She hadn’t made up her mind one way or the other about the offer, and time was growing short. By the end of next week she’d need to give Westec her decision. A decision she was no closer to having made than the day they’d offered her the job.

  What would Kyle’s reaction be when she told him? she wondered. Would he tell her to take the job or ask her to stay? What would he do in her position? Would he give up a job opportunity, a break like working for the New York syndicate, if it was him being offered the job instead of her?

  She didn’t want to think about the answer to that question. She was afraid she already knew it.

  He wouldn’t be in the same quandary she was in, because he didn’t feel about her the way she felt about him. But what if he did? Would a man give up a job opportunity in favor of a relationship with a woman who meant more
to him?

  Probably not, she concluded, turning out the lights.

  AMANDA DECIDED she hated Kyle Fox’s guts.

  It had been bad enough that he’d won the bet between them. But then he’d suggested they wait a night, the rat. Surely he’d known by now she’d become the basket case she was.

  And what was he really shopping for? No, she didn’t even want to think about that.

  Her hand shook as she tore open the dainty envelope of perfumed bath salts she’d bought at a little boutique next to the cinema at the mall. After emptying the envelope beneath the spigot splashing steamy water into the tub, she removed the wrapper from a small bar of soap in a matching fragrance.

  Taking a deep breath, she let her satin robe slide from her smooth, pale shoulders to the cool tile floor. Goose bumps rose on her bare skin as her body quivered in nervous anticipation of Kyle’s arrival for the culmination of their bet. Setting the new bar of soap in the soap dish, she stepped into the tub of warm, sudsy water, reaching for her bath pillow.

  Her head rested against the soft pillow as she slid farther down into the soothing froth of bubbly water. Moving her hands absently, she lapped the fragrant water over herself in sensual waves, thinking back to the night before and Kyle’s wicked smile when he’d pulled out the envelope containing his fantasy.

  She’d kept her promise not to read it, but it hadn’t been the easiest thing she’d ever done. Over and over she’d been tempted to open the envelope, picking it up and putting it back down again and again. In the end, she’d decided she would be much better off not knowing what Kyle wanted until right before he arrived.

  Glancing over at her watch lying on the vanity, she saw that it was six o’clock. She had an hour to read his fantasy and get ready before he was due to arrive.

  The still-sealed envelope sat on the edge of the tub like a ticking time bomb.

  She reached for it.

  When she’d agreed to Kyle’s dare of acting out his fantasy, she’d never dreamed she’d lose the bet. The emotions she felt after losing were mixed, running the gamut from shy embarrassment to anxious trepidation to wanton excitement.

  All sorts of erotic images flashed in her mind as possibilities when she slipped her long fingernail under the flap of the envelope to open it.