Runaway Vegas Bride

by Teresa Hill

  “You’re just trying to mess with me now,” he said stopping with his lips a breath away from hers.

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “You know Lucy’s coming back, and you know I know, so you think you’re perfectly safe here with me. That I’m not going to really do anything.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “That is so bad of you, Jane,” he said, still not kissing her. “And you’re supposed to be such a good girl.”

  She’d been watching his eyes, his mouth, waiting for it to descend that last inch and kiss her again, and she hadn’t been paying attention to anything else. It wasn’t until she felt cool air on her chest that she realized he’d unbuttoned her blouse.

  He took the tip of his nose and skimmed it along the line of her bra as it rose and fell over her breasts, nudging it aside here and there. Then he started playing with her skin with his tongue, his warm breath heating her nipples as he got closer and closer to them.

  She gasped, ran a hand into his hair and grabbed on, trying to pull him away, but in the end, not having the will.

  He nibbled on her collarbone, on the side of her neck. She just melted when he did that to her neck and was starting to rethink the whole sex-in-the-office thing.

  Who would ever really know? Jane could be quiet. At least, she always had been, before Wyatt. She didn’t think Wyatt would be particularly quiet, though, and honestly, she wasn’t sure she could be.

  She was whimpering already.

  “Can you be quiet?” she asked him. “Really quiet?”

  He jerked back, just enough to stare down at her, as if he couldn’t believe she had just said that. “No, but I can throw you over my shoulder and haul you out of here. I live right down the street. We can be in my bed in ten minutes flat.”

  She got a little scared then.

  He laughed. “Didn’t think so.”

  Oh, she’d ruined it! “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. I don’t think you’re quite ready for this, Jane. And I can wait.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, I don’t want to, but I’m capable of it. I’m actually looking forward to talking you into it.”

  “Talking?” she asked, not feeling so bad after all.

  He grinned. “Whatever it takes.”

  He nearly had her blouse off by the time Lucy got back, because Jane did feel safe, she was truly enjoying herself and they couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other and honestly, why should they?

  Lucy just waltzed right in, saying, “I got antibiotic cream and…Oh, sorry. I—”

  Jane gave a little yelp, face flaming. She really had forgotten, there at the end, exactly where they were.

  “It’s okay, Lucy,” Wyatt said, sitting up and keeping his broad back to her.

  Jane couldn’t see her, and she figured that meant Lucy couldn’t see Jane as she buttoned up her blouse, wondering just how many times Lucy had walked in on a scene like this between her boss and some woman.

  No, she wasn’t going to think like that. She would just think about Wyatt and that wonderful mouth of his, those talented hands, the way he smelled, the wicked things he made her want to do.

  “I’ll just leave this stuff right here and leave you two alone,” Lucy said, then whispered to Wyatt. “You know, your door has a lock on it.”

  “Sorry, Luce.”

  But he didn’t look sorry. He looked like a man who was very happy with himself. Of course, why wouldn’t he be?

  “I bet you get every woman you want,” Jane said, not upset, not mad, just…marveling that she could ever actually think about getting involved with a man like him. Even if it was nothing but sex. Great sex.

  Surely a woman was allowed to have one highly satisfying, purely sexual relationship in her life. She’d decided Wyatt would be hers.

  “You really want to talk about me and other women, Jane?”

  “No, actually, I don’t.”

  He nodded. “Good. I’d rather talk about you and me. Have dinner with me tomorrow night. I’ve been dying to see you in something other than one of those little power suits.”

  “You don’t like my suits?”

  “I do. I think they’re adorable, which I know isn’t the image you’re going for. But I can’t help it. You’re just so cute.”

  “You’re sounding less desirable to me with every word that comes out of your mouth,” she warned.

  “Because I like the way you dress?”

  “Because I am not cute. Kittens are cute. Puppies are cute. Little girls are cute—”

  “So I guess you wouldn’t consider dressing up as a Catholic schoolgirl for me? Or maybe in a cheerleader outfit?”

  Her mouth fell open, and she was just about to get really mad when he burst out laughing at her.

  “You rat!”

  “I like grown women, Jane. I have no doubt that you are one. And now that I think about it, wear one of your little suits. I always see you that way in my head, anyway. I think they’re really sexy.”

  “Well, in that case, I wouldn’t dream of dressing in any way other than to please you, the man.”

  “Hey, it was a compliment.”

  She’d gotten her blouse buttoned up and tucked back into her skirt. “I have to go. I have to get some work done, especially if I’m not working late tomorrow night, because I’m having dinner with you.”

  He handed her the bag of first-aid supplies Lucy had brought back from the store and said, “You’re really not going to let me play doctor?”

  “I don’t think that would be wise,” she said, heading for the door, not quite able to believe what she’d already done today with him or what he might expect after the obligatory dinner date tomorrow night.

  He watched her go, stopping her just as she reached for the door handle, his body wrapping itself around hers, trapping her between him and the door.

  “Maybe one of those suits without any underwear? What do you say, Jane?”

  “That you’re crazy.”

  He dropped a little kiss on her cheek and then backed up and let her go.

  Lainie stared at Jane when she walked into the office an uncharacteristic hour and fifteen minutes later than expected.

  “What?” Jane asked. “Was I humming?”

  Or grinning like a woman who’d nearly had sex with Wyatt in his office, or one who was contemplating all the sinful behavior she might partake with him the very next evening?

  “Did you get mugged?” Lainie asked.

  “Oh!” Jane touched the scratches on her face and grinned. “I forgot. I hid in a bush.”

  Lainie looked skeptical. “Why?”

  “Because there was no other place to hide,” Jane explained.

  “Does this have something to do with that man? The amazingly reasonable one?”

  “Oh, I don’t think he’s all that reasonable, really. He’s actually…”

  Outrageous. Wicked. Gorgeous. Jane sighed happily, then remembered where she was. “I can’t talk about him now. I’m so far behind, and I need to get out of here early tomorrow. I have a date.”

  “A date? With him?”

  Jane nodded.

  “Has he…done something to you?” Lainie prodded, looking worried.

  “Done something?”

  “Drugged you, maybe? You’re really not acting like yourself, Jane. You haven’t been since you met him. And there are all sorts of things men can put into drinks these days to get women to do anything they want. This is serious.”

  “Wyatt Gray’s never had to drug a woman in his life. They probably line up for the chance to give him what he wants.”

  “And that doesn’t…infuriate you?”

  Jane thought about it. At one point, it would have. She knew that. But it seemed she’d discounted the whole bit about what the women might want in this situation. Women could be taken advantage of, certainly, and they often were. Jane knew from experience with the women who came to her seminars. But she didn’t think Wyatt took a
dvantage of women. She thought he just enjoyed them, and they enjoyed him.

  She wanted to enjoy him and very much wanted him to enjoy her.

  “I think I may have been a little harsh in my judgments about men,” she admitted.

  Lainie started dropping things, everything she was carrying, actually. A coffee mug, some papers, little pink message slips for Jane. Flustered, she hurried to pick them up, then looked at Jane as if she’d grown three heads in the last five seconds.

  “What has that man done to you?” she asked.

  “I know most men are jerks. Believe me, I do. It’s just that, not all of them are. There must be some decent men out there. Some who can be trusted in…certain…limited…situations.”

  “You want to go to bed with him,” Lainie guessed.

  Jane felt heat coming into her cheeks. “I’m allowed to have a sex life—”

  “I know. You just never have before. Not in all the time I’ve known you, I bet.”

  Jane clamped her mouth shut, thinking back to exactly when she’d hired Lainie. Had it been that long? She wasn’t going to answer that.

  “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Lainie said.

  “I won’t. I know exactly what I’m getting into. I certainly know that nothing lasting will ever come out of this, and that I’m not his usual type, which has made him more interested than he’d normally be. But I know that in the end, we’ll just go our separate ways, and that’ll be it.”

  “And you’re fine with that?”

  She sighed. “I wouldn’t say fine with that, but I’m an adult, and like you said, I get lonely at times. Wyatt’s here, and I’m here, and he’s…he’s…he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met in my life, Lainie. I’m thinking about going to dinner with him in one of my power suits with no underwear. Does that sound…normal?”

  “Not for you,” Lainie yelped.

  “No, I mean for a woman not like me. A woman who likes men. Really likes them. And really likes sex. For that kind of woman. Would that kind of woman do that?”

  Lainie sighed. “Jane, are you sure he didn’t drug you? Maybe I should come along on this date, just to make sure he doesn’t…that he isn’t…you know? A bad guy. Or we could run a background check on him. You have that friend on the police force. Just in case. How about that? A background check and a credit check. You can’t be too careful.”

  “Yes, you can. I’ve been careful too long. And I’m done with it,” Jane declared.

  She was going to dinner without her underwear, after all.

  Chapter Nine

  The next afternoon Jane skipped out on much of the work she’d hoped to accomplish. Her heart just wasn’t in it. She went home and took a bath instead. A nice, long, sexy soak, because she wanted to smell good all over.

  The no-panties thing had been just a crazy idea at first, but Lainie had been so sure Jane had become demented or perhaps incapacitated by drugs someone had slipped her, that Jane had been insulted a bit. Granted, it wasn’t like her to ever do that, but surely it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility.

  It was like the odds of her winning the lottery, maybe. Not probable, but not impossible.

  She decided she was going to do it.

  It’s not as if it would kill her, and no one would ever have to know. It wasn’t as if she’d promised to hop in bed with Wyatt tonight, even though she suspected he was fairly certain she would. And at this moment, she wanted to. But if later she got too nervous, too scared, or changed her mind, she didn’t have to, and if she did, her pantyless state could very well go undetected.

  It could be her wicked little secret.

  Jane was not as stuffy or prudish as anyone thought. She liked that idea. That it was more like a dare she’d given herself, something she wanted to prove to herself.

  Opening up her closet door, she frowned at row after row of power suits, all virtually identical except for their color. Was she really that boring? That predictable? It was just so easy this way. Buy good-quality suits that didn’t go out of style, pick a color, pair it with a white blouse and she was ready to go, day after day.

  Jane sighed. Wyatt had asked her to wear one.

  She picked the brightest color she had—a hot, candy-pink—then got to all those white blouses. It was definitely not a buttoned-up, white-blouse kind of night, either.

  In her underwear drawer, she picked up lace camisole after lace camisole. Jane wasn’t a busty woman, and she wasn’t going to endure a stuffed or even water-filled bra to try to make her look bustier every day, just to please some man who only wanted to look at her chest. But she did like camisoles with a little support that doubled as soft, comfortable bras. They were pretty, and some were even soft and pretty at the same time. Truth be told, she felt a bit sexy in those little camisoles. She just always wore her buttoned-up blouses over them.

  Tonight…maybe she’d skip the blouse and wear one of her prettiest camisoles instead.

  She found one in white satin, the neckline made of lace trim and cut straight across, so it didn’t look like a bra or underwear necessarily. She slipped it on, thinking it certainly felt a little wicked against her skin.

  Pulling on the slightly cropped jacket to her suit and buttoning the two buttons, she thought it looked sexy. She was showing some skin, but nothing outrageous, as long as she didn’t take off her jacket.

  She gave herself a pep talk that she could indeed do this, slipped off the jacket and then put on a robe, so she could take the time to do her hair and put on a little makeup, saving the panties or no-panties decision until the last possible minute.

  Her hands actually shook as she put on mascara.

  Why did women do this to themselves? Get so worked up over a man? She found lotion, to match the scent she’d used in her bath, smoothed it over her skin around and even beneath the camisole. Which had her thinking of Wyatt’s hands under there, touching her everywhere.

  Jane frowned, watching the clock move ever closer to the appointed time of their date. It wasn’t as if the man was going to push his way into her apartment and strip her naked the moment he arrived.

  At least, she didn’t think so.

  Maybe she could call Lainie and ask if…that might be something she should be prepared for, although how a woman prepared for someone like Wyatt to do something like that to her…

  She set the bottle of lotion down, dropping the cap as she tried to put it back on. Maybe she should have a drink, and not a white wine spritzer.

  He was just a man, she kept telling herself. Reasonable in some things perhaps, more good-looking than most, kind to his elderly uncle, but beyond that, just a man. She was probably all worked up over nothing.

  Her doorbell rang.

  Jane yelped, practically jumping out of her skin.

  He was a full nine minutes early!

  She dropped the robe, grabbed her skirt and put it on, along with the jacket and buttoned up. She’d never put on her panties, and she was feeling incredibly, sinfully bare, but looking in the mirror…

  No one would ever have to know, she told herself as he rang the doorbell again and she went to answer it.

  Wyatt stopped in the doorway and stared, a slow smile coming across his face.

  “Pink is a great color on you, Jane.”

  She stood absolutely still, feeling cool silk and lace against her breasts and, down there, nothing but a slight breeze coming up her short, straight-cut skirt.

  He reached out, letting his fingertips skim along the lace neckline of the camisole, his eyes dark and smoky looking. “If this is underwear, I’ve changed my mind. I approve.”

  “It’s not underwear,” she claimed. Not really. “It’s a camisole top.”

  “Pretty,” he said appreciatively.

  He looked good enough to eat, she thought, in his sleek, dark, perfectly fitted suit. But he didn’t needed to hear it. And given the look in his eyes, she really didn’t trust him not to push her down on the couch and
start taking her clothes off, right here and now.

  “I’m starving,” she said, taking him by the arm and steering him toward the front door. “We should go.”

  “Whatever you want, Jane. I intend to be a perfect gentleman tonight.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” she told him.

  But she got him out the door, into his car and on the way to the restaurant. Jane leaned back in the soft leather seats of his sleek, roomy Mercedes, and tried to relax as he drove just a tad fast for her tastes, but seemingly in perfect control.

  It was just dinner, she told herself.

  His cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket, glanced at the number, then clicked it off. “Sorry. Meant to do that before I picked you up.”

  “It’s all right. Mine’s not turned off, either, now that I think about it.”

  She fished it out of her purse, where it had been buried under everything and saw that she had three missed calls, including two from Ms. Steele while she’d been in the tub.

  “Uh, oh. Was yours from Ms. Steele?”

  Wyatt nodded. “But we’re not going to think about her tonight. Tonight is for us.”

  “I know, but…she called me twice, which doesn’t really bother me, but Amy, the sweet aide who’s such a great cook, she called, too, and she never calls me.”

  “Jane, if you want to call her, go ahead.”

  “If I don’t call, I’ll spend all night wondering what’s wrong.” She hid the redial button and waited until Amy came on the line. “Amy, it’s Jane. Is everything all right?”

  “Jane, I’m so glad it’s you. Do you…know where Kathleen is?”

  “She’s not at the cottage?”

  “As far as we can tell, she’s not anywhere at Remington Park. She missed her regular tennis lesson and we started looking for her. Then we figued out that Mr. Gray’s missing, too. They didn’t say anything to you about…taking off for a few days, did they?”

  “No. What about Gladdy? She must know.”

  “We’re looking for her right now, but I thought you might know what’s going on or that, if you didn’t, you’d want to know. We can’t find Kathleen.”