by Mina Carter
“To us!”
Zette raised her glass as the room erupted into cheers and general merriment. There was a definite party atmosphere in the air; the promised release of tension after a long, hard slog. Zette breathed a sigh of relief and allowed herself to relax a little. She was wound tighter than a spring, had been for the last week or so.
She took a sip from her glass and looked about. She was still dressed for the stage; all she’d done was lighten up the heavy makeup they had plastered on her. Her entrance had gone unnoticed for the moment, which she was glad about. She always needed a little time after a show to wind down and let the adrenalin drain away.
Usually. Tonight she felt odd, still keyed up. Her eyes wandered over the crowded room, settling on one tall, familiar figure. JJ. She’d know those broad shoulders and that well-built body anywhere. Her tension rose another notch. She hadn’t been sure he’d make it back from the business meetings that had taken him overseas for most of the past week. Some crisis in the Middle East only he could sort out.
Pleasure filled her that he had managed it, but it was bittersweet pleasure. She snagged a table in the corner, noting the stick-insect starlet who was clinging to his arm, and his every word, with delight. Zette didn’t blame her, women’s eyes followed JJ wherever he went and an affair with a guy like him wasn’t going to hurt any up and coming wannabe’s career. Which was obviously what this girl was after and, by the way JJ leaned into her, he wasn’t adverse to the idea. Her teeth worried her lower lip as she tried to ignore the two in the corner over in the other side of the room.
It was over, she was fairly sure of that. Apart from the physical distance with being abroad JJ had been distant on the phone, always too busy and rushing her off whenever she called. So she hadn’t called for the last couple of days. The silence had damn near killed her. As much as she tried to kid herself that he was just busy, that he’d call, she knew he wouldn’t. And he hadn’t. And with the concert over Zette had no reason to share his bed anymore, so there would be a vacancy. Convenient.
“Kidding yourself Zette, time to move on. He obviously has,” she murmured into her glass, downing the rest of the champagne in one go. Misery and frustration crowded into her heart but she squashed them down. Now that she was facing the fact it was over, however it had started, she found she didn’t want it to be finished. She was in love.
Totally, stupidly, head over heels in love with JJ.
She stopped and studied the empty glass absently. When had that happened? When had she been stupid enough to let that happen? She’d thought she was in love with JJ before. Playing with the stem of her empty glass she realised she hadn’t been. She’d just been a teenager with her first crush. At the time it had seemed all-consuming, a passion so desperate that when she’d found herself alone, her heart had broken into so many pieces she was sure it would never be whole again.
But it had been nothing more than a crush. She’d picked herself up and carried on, the experience hardening her, giving her that edge she needed to make it. This time though, she was a woman and it would devastate her…
“Another drink Ma’am?” The waiter’s voice broke into her reverie. Zette looked up, a little startled, into kind brown eyes.
“Pretty lady like you shouldn’t look so sad at a party, if you don’t mind me saying. Whoever he is, he’s a prat.” He placed another drink on the table next to her, flashing a small smile at her start. Surely she wasn’t that transparent?
“I recognise the look. Have a few drinks and forget him. Plenty more fish in the sea,” he said, sympathy in his eyes. He had to have recognised her. Knew who she was. She could almost see the headlines now ‘Heartbroken star mopes at party!’.
Somehow though, she didn’t think that was going to happen. There was something about him that was sincere and after years in the cut-throat world of music, Zette had learned to tell the genuine ones from the fakes.
A soft smile curved her full lips. “Thanks. I’m fine, but thanks.” Her voice was soft, her eyes thoughtful as the waiter moved off unseen. There were plenty more fish in the sea, but she’d always want the shark.
She shivered, trying to shake off her morose mood, as the microphone crackled again. She looked up but it wasn’t Christine this time. JJ stood in the middle of the makeshift stage. He cleared his throat and spoke.
“Ladies and gentlemen, some of you may know me, most of you will not. My name is Jarrett Jensen but most people call me JJ. Some of you might be familiar with the name Jensen, I run a little company called Jensen Industries.” He trailed off as a small laugh went around the room. Jensen Inc. was one of the major players in the business world, there weren’t many people that hadn’t heard of it and by extension, JJ.
“First off I’d like to congratulate you on the sheer success this evening has been. Rarely has it been my pleasure to work with a group of people so dedicated to a cause and working together so hard to achieve success. So, kudos to you guys.” He raised his glass to the room in general. “Also my recruitment officers are placed at all the exits so, if you fancy a change of career, I could do with people like you.”
It was a joke but, from the back of the room, Zette had to admit he did it well, his easy charm drawing the crowd in. She could understand why he dominated business meetings and the like; he had a presence and an ability to work a group of people she’d only ever seen before on stage. It wasn’t unlike the way a singer or other entertainer had to work a crowd, sensitive to their moods, their reactions.
“…now, moving on from business, I have an announcement I’d like to make.”
Zette’s ears picked up, a frown settling between her brows. What would JJ want to announce to these people? Her support crews and admin staff didn’t move in the same circles as his business associates or even the social circle he moved in. Racking her brains, she moved a little closer, interested to see what he had to say.
“Since Zette has now managed to join us, that woman is a tower of strength I tell you… I’ve been amazed during the run up to this concert. I’d swear if I hadn’t made her, she wouldn’t have slept in the last couple of weeks.” He smiled, looking through the crowd directly at her. So much for thinking he hadn’t noticed her.
“Anyway, enough of that. I’d like to announce something very important to me. Zette Matthews has made me the happiest man in the world and done me the honour of agreeing to become my wife.”
Seeing her face at his announcement, JJ thought it best to get her out of there as soon as possible, preferably before the eruption he could see coming. His hand under her elbow, he hustled her out of the party amidst the cheering and congratulations. The crowd parted easily, recognising a man who wanted to get his beautiful fiancée to himself for a while. He breathed a small sigh of relief as they made the doors to the terrace and stepped out into the cool night air. It wasn’t a moment too soon, Zette rounding on him with fury.
“Okay, what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” she hissed, her eyes blazing. She was gorgeous when she was angry, one reason JJ couldn’t resist winding her up at times. She rose to the bait spectacularly, her tail fanning out in an instant when he stepped over the line.
He played innocent. “Announcing our engagement, what else?”
She speared him with a direct look. “What engagement? We’re not engaged. We’ve never been engaged.”
Okay, this was going to be a little harder than he expected, JJ admitted to himself. Usually you mentioned the ‘M’ word and women went a little gaga, easily manipulated. Or at least, that’s what he’d observed in his colleagues who had married. Of course, there was the flipside of the coin as well. Those self-same colleagues, usually hard-bitten, ruthless men, soon found themselves tied to the apron strings and led around by the balls. But that was because they’d made one fatal mistake.
They’d fallen in love with their wives.
JJ didn’t intend to make that mistake. He never intended to make that mistake. No way was he giving a woman
that sort of power over him. But he could play the game, whilst it suited him. He dropped his voice a little, moved in closer and crowded her against a wall between two windows, out of sight of the main function room. She didn’t give an inch, looking up at him with that look. The one he knew meant she was pissed off.
“Where did you think this was going Zette?” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, nothing more than an excuse to touch her. Create a connection. His fingertip trailed down her cheekbone. He could feel the tension in her slender body, wanted to divert that anger into something more…productive.
“Where did I think it was going? What do you mean?” Her voice was hard, giving no quarter. “If this had been a real relationship then yeah, maybe I’d think this was going someplace. But you conned me into bed JJ. Blackmailed me.”
JJ had the grace to wince a little.
“That was badly done,” he admitted, leaning one hand on the wall behind her and bracketing her with his larger body. He did feel a little bad about that, but not too much. He’d wanted her too much…he stopped; he had wanted her, not just because of this will thing. He just plain and simply wanted her. Even without that, even without their past history or without the concert to use as leverage, he’d have gone all out to get her into his bed.
“I wanted you too much, I couldn’t wait. I saw a way to get you and I used it.” His smile was sheepish, hiding a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Can you blame me for that? For wanting you? Wanting you naked in my bed, naked under me… Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His voice was soft and beguiling. He could play this game. Seduction 101; tell them what they wanted to hear.
So why did he feel his life depended on getting this right? His chest tightened as she continued to look at him with that hard look, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t buying it. He had to up the stakes. So be it. He knew just how to do that. Pushing off the wall he smiled at her, going down on one knee and reaching into his pocket for a small velvet box. He snapped it open and held it out to her.
“Zette, regardless of the way our relationship started off, I can’t think of anyone else I would ask this question of. Marry me.”
She blinked, silence stretching between them as she looked from the box to him and back again. Ruthlessly he quashed the unease trying to settle in his chest. She would go for it, she had to go for it. He’d laid his plans too carefully for her not too. And she was a woman wasn’t she? They all loved a bit of romance, and the glitter of a diamond solitaire. Then he pulled his trump card, emotion.
“It belonged to my grandmother, on my mother’s side. She was a sweet woman, I just remember her as a kid. She’d have liked you, wanted you to have it.”
That did it. His hawk-like attention on her face picked up the slight change in her expression, the softening in her eyes as she reached a finger out to touch the antique ring. She didn’t speak, the telltale shine of tears in her dark eyes as she nodded.
Triumph gripped him hard, so hard he felt like punching the air and doing a lap of honour around the terrace. Not something he’d do in a million years, so he had no idea where the impulse had come from. He hadn’t felt that way since he was a teenager and his team had hit a home run.
He didn’t give her a chance to change her mind, taking her hand and pulling the ring from the box. He’d measured her one night as she’d slept and had it altered specially, so he knew it would be a perfect fit even before he slipped it on her finger. And it did, sliding onto her finger as though it had been made for her.
“Thank you,” he breathed, gathering her into his arms with a possessive tenderness that was new. Must be something to do with the moment, he decided. After all it wasn’t every day a guy got engaged, had to get engaged. Regardless of the reasons she was his now, his woman and soon to be his wife. That waiter who’d been making calf eyes at her earlier would be getting the sharp side of his tongue if he tried his luck again!
She spread her fingers out, admiring the rock that sat on her wedding finger.
“It’s beautiful, thank you…” Her voice was clogged with emotion, a low husky sound that set his body on fire just hearing it. “I can’t believe you’d give me this. Not something of your grandmother’s. That’s so personal—”
He didn’t let her carry on, pulling her up against him to kiss her. He needed to kiss her, more than he needed his next breath. Of course, she would be expecting him to, after having proposed and all. His lips descended, claimed hers. She was like honey and silk, the faint aftertaste of champagne lingering on her lips as he teased them apart. She opened easily for him, naturally, moving closer as he deepened the kiss. His hands moved over her back, one sliding down the curve of her spine to settle in the small of her back as the other settled at her nape, holding her in place as he ravaged her mouth.
She was delicious, addictive. Drugging. The kiss got out of control quickly. Her tongue moving against his, flicking and teasing softly, drove him to distraction. A subtle rebellion that set his soul on fire. A low growl of warning rumbled in his big chest as he turned her, backing up to the wall. He left her lips for a moment, only to pull her down into his lap, chuckling as she squeaked in surprise.
Then his hands were on her again, winding into her hair and scattering the pins so he could feel the silken locks spilling through his fingers. He murmured in satisfaction as he bent his head again to kiss her. He loved her hair, it fascinated him, the texture, the smell, everything.
She shifted against him, getting more comfortable in his lap, her curvy body pressing against him and her ass pressing into his groin. He groaned, a shudder going through his entire body as she reached down and rubbed his hardened cock through his pants.
“God, Zette—” He broke away, pressing his lips to her temple as he tried to control his reaction. All he wanted to do was lay her down on the lounger, strip her clothes from her and bury himself in her over and over again. It was a need bordering on desperation, the strength of it scaring the life out of him for a moment. He pressed his eyes closed, shaking the feeling off and getting control of himself. Sex, it was just sex and he hadn’t seen her for a week. Of course he was going to be desperate to get her in the sack. He drew a shuddering breath as she continued to stroke him through the fabric, a teasing touch just firm enough to drive him to distraction.
“Careful, or you’ll end up flat on your back, skirt up round your waist.” His voice was a low growl of warning. His hands ran through her hair, smoothing it back and holding it in a rope at the nape of her neck. Controlling as the movement was, he knew he wasn’t the one in control here. Especially when her next movement was to straddle him, her hips rolling, rocking against his, against the erection that strained to be free. His breath left him in a rush at the sexy look on her face and the knowledge that but for a few layers of fabric, he’d be buried in her to the hilt. She rearranged her skirts, pooling them around her as she sat in his lap.
“Skirts don’t always have to be pushed out of the way you know…” she whispered as she leaned down to kiss him. A hot sexy kiss that told him all he needed to know as his arms came up around her.
Zette came to slowly, a comfortable slide out of sleep and a gradual awakening. As consciousness returned she was aware of JJ moving in the room around her. The brisk swish of curtains opening and the bright stab of early morning sun spilling onto the bed had her moaning in protest. She grabbed a pillow and buried her head under it, lifting the edge to glare at JJ.
“Morning sleeping beauty, how are you feeling?” The bed dipped under his weight as he sat down next to her. His large hand reached out to pull the pillow away from her. She grumbled a little, wrinkling her nose at him. She still couldn’t believe what had happened, that within two weeks they’d be married. It was a fairy tale come true, at least for her battered heart.
She’d stopped believing in love a long time ago. Right at the point her mother had abandoned her when Zette got a bit too old, a hint that Ariadne wasn’t as young
as she liked to make out. The presence of an adult daughter damaged her chances of snagging another rich husband she could fleece and cheat on, then strip in the divorce settlement. So Zette had gone the way of last year’s fashions, cast off when she’d served her purpose. Add to that the fact the man she’d thought she was in love with hadn’t even bothered to return her calls. Each time she’d tried, she’d gotten the stonewall of various receptionists and PA’s. Finally she’d given up. Fed up with being rejected, abandoned, she’d grown a thick callus over her heart and never let anyone in again. Until now.
“Tired,” she pretended to grouch, but a smile started to curve her lips as she took in the sight of him. He was already getting ready for work, crisp shirt unbuttoned over his chest, giving her a tantalising glimpse of the hardened muscles there. She reached out to trail a hand along the satin smooth skin, flicking his nipple gently, careful not to move from her prone position on the bed. She’d been ill with a stomach bug the last couple of days and the mornings had been the worst, nausea hitting her as soon as she lifted her head. Luckily it seemed to have worn off a little now but she didn’t want to take chances.
“Well, you’d be fine if you’d get some sleep instead of keeping me up all night woman!” He grinned down at her, capturing her hand and holding it away from his chest. “And cut that out, or I won’t be going anywhere!” he warned, his eyes alight with promise.
“Me? Keep you awake? Yeah right, as I recall you were the one that woke me up!” She squeaked in protest at his blatant lie. He was insatiable. That she’d been worried he’d lost interest in her the night of the party seemed preposterous now. In fact since they’d gotten engaged, his sex drive seemed to have increased. She shivered at the memories. Some of the things he’d had her doing…
“Well if you weren’t so sexy I wouldn’t have needed to, ergo, your fault,” he told her firmly, ending the argument with a swift, hard kiss before he pushed away and stood up. “Now I really need to go, and stop looking at me like than unless you want a repeat performance right now.”
