Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash

by Bev Pettersen

  She leaned back in her chair, eyes wide, wine forgotten. Definitely a guilty stain in her gorgeous cheeks, and there was simply no way he could let this go. He blanked his face, drilling her with his eyes.

  “I’m always truthful with you, Jenna.” Except about Wally. He shoved aside his regret. “And I expect you to be honest as well.” He scowled for added effect, but it was tough because he was much too distracted by her horrified expression.

  A moment later she dropped her head and he could no longer see her face, but, ah shit, her shoulders quivered, and he wished he’d just let her keep her little secrets. He hated to see her upset. “Peanut didn’t tell me much,” he added quickly. “Nothing private, you understand.”

  She peered up, giggling, eyes moist with laughter. “Horse telepathy. You! For ten seconds there, I actually believed you.”

  He pushed his chair closer and scooped her onto his lap. “Ten seconds? That’s all? Thought I was keeping a pretty straight face.”

  “You have that little twitch right here.” Still laughing, she kissed the left side of his mouth. “Big giveaway, every time. It always was there, even when we first met. Remember that day?”

  “Certainly,” he said wryly. “You were robbing me blind, and I helped carry the contraband to your car.”

  “Now that I know you better, I’m surprised you didn’t fire me on the spot. Why not?”

  “Maybe I hoped to get lucky.” He reached across the table and snagged his beer, needing something to occupy his hands.

  “No, you’re not like that. What was it? Tell me.” She snuggled into his chest. Christ, she was impossible to resist when she did that.

  “You were loyal to Wally,” he said slowly. “Companies with loyal employees survive even when business gets tough.”

  “Sheesh, that’s not romantic at all.” She winkled her nose. “I would have made up something much better.”

  But the truth would scare her, he thought bleakly. He’d been intrigued from the moment she’d accused him of line butting. And now she was cuddled on his lap, so open and affectionate it was hard to believe she was still fighting this. He didn’t have much time either, and the gut-wrenching feeling it wasn’t going to work out simply wouldn’t go away.

  “Hey,” she said, “you’re cracking my ribs.”

  “Sorry.” He loosened his arms and took a sip of beer.

  “I can’t believe you convinced them to deliver a pizza way out here,” she said brightly. “Want another piece?”

  It was obvious she was trying to cheer him up—she had a generous heart. However, it didn’t belong to him and he had the perverse need to sulk. To have her fuss over him like she cared. So he only shook his head and scowled.

  She just tucked her head back against his chest, completely unfazed. “Life sucks sometimes,” she said. “What was the worst day you had when you were a kid?”

  He didn’t need to think. “I wanted to go home for Christmas, and my parents sent me to ski camp.” He immediately felt ashamed. She’d probably never even had the chance to ski.

  “Wish I’d been there.” She pressed a kiss against the base of his throat, a balm to his frustration. “It would have been fun skiing with you, or at least trying.”

  “I’d enjoy doing anything with you, sweetheart.” He rose, lifting her to her feet. “But for now, let’s just go to bed.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the table.

  She followed him trustingly, out of the kitchen and across the cold floor of the lobby, up the winding stairs and into his bedroom.

  “I haven’t been in all the bedrooms yet,” he said, glancing out the window. “But this is the one I sleep in, closest to your hill. I can see your lights from here.”

  “Really?” She peered out the window, looking vaguely troubled. “So you can see if I’m up late?”

  “Have you been carousing without me, sweetheart?”

  She shook her head but he spotted a guilty flush. Ms. Jenna Murphy was definitely not a simple woman but at least she was here, in his bedroom. And sometimes an occasion should simply be enjoyed.

  He turned from the window and traced a finger over the top of her bathrobe. “Time to return this, Jen,” he said.

  Her hands slipped to the knotted sash, and she gave him one of her rebel-angel smiles. “But you’re still wearing quite a few clothes, even though I’ve been trying to get them off all day. Something we should work on? Some shyness with women, maybe?”

  “Definitely some issues,” he said. “My buckle’s been sticking around other women ever since I came here. Ever since I met you.”

  She tilted her head, as though not quite understanding what he was saying. “It didn’t stick before?”

  “Never had this kind of problem,” he said.

  She reached down, skimming her fingers over his belt, tracing his outline, then cupped him. He swallowed but didn’t move from the window.

  “I’m not sure why your buckle wouldn’t open earlier.” She kneeled down. “Maybe I’ll have another go at it.”

  She obviously didn’t want to talk, and suddenly neither did he. He hadn’t wanted to make love in a pool or hot tub, places where he’d enjoyed sex with so many women on so many other occasions. But as her fingers glided over his zipper, it no longer mattered where they were. If he didn’t drive into her soon, he was going to explode.

  He tried to yank his zipper down but she pushed his hand away. “This is delicate work and like you in the pool, I need to do it just right.” Her smile was wicked, her soft breath tantalizingly close to his jeans.

  He splayed his hands against the wall and tried to think of Edward and their last phone call—not what she was doing, so damn slow with his zipper. Edward was always in a hurry, always eager to move on but he wanted a good manager, wanted to make sure she’d be okay.

  His mind blanked as her hand drifted along his length, cupping him, and he couldn’t wait another second.

  He twisted away and scooped her up, glad he had a condom close. Kicked off his tangled jeans and dropped her on the bed. Yanked her bathrobe apart and pried open her legs with raw urgency. Almost too urgent but she was wet and ready. He pushed in, groaning with pleasure.

  She tensed but he already knew her buttons and rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, waiting until she quivered and widened her legs. Drove deeper. Her body fit him perfectly now, molding around his and moving in perfect accord.

  He kissed her fiercely, possessively, wanted it to last but he’d been under such taut restraint. Pumped faster, unable to slow. Found her breast with his mouth and angled her higher, driving harder, until she arched against him and their cries blended in mutual release.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jenna woke alone in Burke’s huge bed amid a tangle of sheets and the lingering smell of passion. She propped herself up on an elbow. The previous owners hadn’t been given much time to pack. There was still a Canadian flag draped in one corner. She hadn’t noticed that last night. Of course, there had been a lot she’d overlooked last night.

  She flopped back on the bed. Burke was a wonderful lover and knew her body intimately. An erotic spot behind her knee, that area on the arch of her foot, her sensitive breasts—she’d never realized they were hot-wired to her orgasms. A man didn’t achieve that kind of thoroughness without paying attention to a lot of women.

  Which was good, because they both knew this thing was short-lived. He might get a little sulky but only because he was accustomed to calling the shots. She thrust aside the covers and stepped onto the hard marble floor, flinching at the cold beneath her feet.

  Strange how rich folk always chose marble and slate. Those surfaces were unforgiving. If you were knocked down, it’d be tough to pick yourself up. Probably left plenty of bruises too.

  She rubbed her arms and walked around the cool room, searching for the errant bathrobe. Couldn’t find it anywhere. Not under the bed, not hanging in the enormous bathroom and not in the walk-in closet. Plenty of suits
though. She scanned the hangers. Scary power suits carrying private labels and the smell of money.

  She backed out quickly. Yesterday Burke had worn jeans and a shirt, and it was easy to forget he was grossly rich. She wanted no part of that life. Meanwhile she didn’t have a thing to wear.

  She sensed a presence and somehow knew he was there. She turned, resisting the urge to cover her nakedness with an ineffectual arm. He’d paused in the doorway, looking so ruggedly handsome in a simple black T-shirt, her breath stalled.

  “Hi,” she managed.

  His gaze swept her with such honest appreciation, her self-consciousness faded. If anyone knew her body, this man did.

  “What are your plans today,” he asked, his gaze now locked on her face.

  “Um, tea, shower, massage Nifty.”

  “Okay. After that, would you like to fly to Atlantic City? Visit a casino. Have a little fun.”

  She remembered him mentioning a trip and stiffened in a blend of fascination and fear. Edged back a step, shaking her head.

  “Could make a few dollars,” he added, “to put toward your sister’s tuition.”

  Her automatic refusal stalled in her throat. She tilted her head, swept with a rush of interest. “Is it easy to make money?”

  “No, but it’s always a good time.”

  Her gaze shot to the closet and his intimidating wardrobe. “I don’t have anything to wear,” she murmured.

  “We’ll look after that later. Besides, you always look beautiful.” He glanced longingly at the bed, his voice turning husky. “Honey, you better get dressed, or I’m not going to make it in to work.”

  “I’m trying to,” she said wryly, “but the last time I saw my clothes they were at the bottom of the pool.”

  His boyish smile tugged at her heart. “I forgot.” He strode into the closet, then emerged with a white T-shirt. “Slip this on for now and come have your tea. Your clothes are in the dryer.”

  The shirt only reached mid-thigh and was probably transparent. However, she felt more composed even partially clothed, and followed him to the patio. He’d obviously been working for a while. Sheets of paper were stacked by a silver coffee pot.

  “Can I help with anything?” she asked.

  He was intensely private with his work, and she was surprised when he slid over a thin file. “I need to decide on one of these companies. My cousin, Edward, is pushing for a decision. Wants me to leave right away.”

  She nodded and stared at the file, surprised by the tightening of her chest. Of course he was leaving. She knew that. Wanted that. She scanned the summaries: a hotel in Boston, a health resort in Maine or a pharmaceutical company in California. “I think the Boston or Maine companies would be best,” she finally said.

  “Why?” His dark eyes didn’t leave her face.

  “Because they’re service industries, like Three Brooks, and they seem to fit your experience.”

  “I see.” His voice turned clipped.

  “And they’re also pretty close.” She played with the corner of the file, not looking at him, folding it back and forth and mangling its crease. “Maybe you could visit the Center when you’re flying past. Check on our progress.”

  “I don’t do that. My role is to streamline processes, establish competent management. Unless specific arrangements are made with…specific people, there’s no going back. Ever.”

  She stared at the sheet, a lump tightening in her throat. Could feel the intensity of his gaze but didn’t want to look at him. Couldn’t.

  “Then that’s unfortunate,” she said.

  ***

  The plane leveled in the air. Jenna gripped her armrests, trying not to appear gauche but secretly thrilled. This was so cool. First class too. She peeked at Burke who stretched in the seat beside her. He’d already opened his laptop and now scrutinized numbers on a black and red spreadsheet.

  She checked the company name: Edge Technology, probably the pharmaceutical company in California. He’d withdrawn a notch since this morning, in fact hadn’t even kissed her. Which was fine since he’d had his mouth all over her last night. Sometimes men pouted like babies.

  Even Colin had acted as if she’d carved his heart out, but she’d always been honest. Heck, girls needed sex too. Burke should be happy there were no strings attached.

  It might not be a very good time in Atlantic City though. She hoped he wouldn’t ignore her. He glanced up, caught her eye and winked, then bent back over his numbers, but his reassuring gesture turned her chest fuzzy.

  She adjusted her seatbelt then played with the entertainment system, but there didn’t seem to be any sound. Leaned forward and looked out the window. Thick clouds blocked her view.

  “Anything from the bar, madam?” A flight attendant removed her empty teacup and carefully set down a napkin and some giant cashews.

  “Red wine, please,” she said. Service was excellent and had started before the plane even left the ground. She was so excited, she considered ordering a double rum and coke, but probably gambling while drinking wasn’t the smartest plan.

  Burke ordered beer, a brand with a moose head on it, but remained absorbed with the numbers on his computer screen. She leaned back, then tilted forward again, studying every detail of the plane. Some of the other passengers were talking. If she had the aisle seat, she could have made conversation with the friendly gentleman in the polo shirt.

  “I’ll be finished soon. Need these numbers for a meeting tomorrow,” Burke said. “Then I’ll have the rest of the day. And night.”

  The implicit promise in his voice made her stomach kick. The plan was to catch a morning flight tomorrow and be back at the Center by noon. She had no idea where they were staying, but Frances had promised to feed Peanut. Jenna would have preferred Wally. Unfortunately, no one had seen him for days.

  Concern for Wally tempered her excitement and she picked up a cashew, rolling it idly between her fingers.

  Burke shot her another glance, turned his shoulder to the friendly man across the aisle, and closed his laptop with a decisive click. “What’s on your mind?”

  She flushed. “Nothing really.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Just wondering where Wally’s gone,” she admitted. “Would you have kept him as the manager if he hadn’t quit?”

  “No,” he said.

  “But if you can’t hire someone else?” His tanned throat rippled as he sipped his beer, distracting her, and she had the crazy urge to lean forward and press her mouth against his neck. She’d always loved his throat, right from the very first day.

  “Edward’s found someone,” Burke said. “Competent lady. I talked with her at length on the phone. She’s arriving tomorrow. She’ll stay at a motel until Wally’s apartment is vacant.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you’d found someone.” She jerked her head away, breaking the cashew into four tiny pieces. “You never told me you’d hired a manager.”

  “Why would I? That’s not your area of expertise,” he said.

  Not her area of expertise. A flush warmed her cheeks and she twisted toward the window. His blunt comments always cut deep—always knocked her off balance. She knew she was only a bedmate, something they both wanted, but he didn’t have to remind her. No need to belittle.

  She stared at the clouds, needing a moment to hide her pain. The only thing she still controlled, and something that clearly irritated him, was that she wanted him to leave. He wanted her to beg him to stay, for some reason wanted to strip her last bit of pride. And that was absolutely not going to happen.

  When she turned back to him, her voice was level. “Of course, hiring a manager isn’t my area of expertise, but I thought you’d tell me, simply to share the good news. And I’d be happy to drive you to the airport when you go…see you off.”

  He smiled wryly but she failed to see the humor. He’d barged into her world, turned it upside down, made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Had provided a taste of a sweeter, more co
mplete life. Probably why he’d suggested this little jaunt, although she wasn’t sure he could be that calculating. He just wanted some entertainment.

  Still, give anyone half a chocolate and they’d be hooked, eager for more. Burke knew that. Heck, she knew that. Her economics teacher had taught it back in grade eleven, and she’d been preaching it to her sister for years. She blew out a worried sigh, not sure now if Em would even pass her economics.

  “We’ll buy a new phone when we land,” he said quietly. “So you can keep in touch with your sister.”

  Her chest squeezed, and she fingered her wineglass. She’d never been around anyone who was so attuned to her thoughts.

  “And there are some stores in the hotel where you can do a little shopping,” he added. “In case you have hostess or tour duties at the Center. I also want you to get something to wear tonight.”

  She stiffened and a drop of wine spotted the top of her thumb. He doesn’t like the way I dress? “No need,” she muttered, trying to steady her shaking hand.

  “I want to,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Three hours later, she stood numbly in the dressing room of a designer boutique, watching as the saleslady rushed in with another cocktail dress, shoes and an exorbitantly priced bra.

  “That outfit is stunning but you definitely need these shoes,” the lady said. “Then there’s the negligee, the underwear and those other things he sent—”

  “No, please. That’s enough,” Jenna said. “I’m finished. Just put my old clothes in a bag.”

  “Are you sure? He told me to bring in all these other things.” The lady paused, looking disappointed before shrugging and turning away.

  Jenna stared in the elegant mirror, barely recognizing herself. The dress was cut very low and with the fancy bra, she felt exposed. The material also showcased her curves much more intimately than anything she’d ever owned.

  She stepped out, walking cautiously on unfamiliar stilettos. Burke lounged in a wide chair, tapping on his laptop, but clearly sensed her presence. He glanced up, then leaped to his feet, grabbing the laptop before it slammed to the floor.