Her heart stuttered. Jordan stared, not sure what to say. Never in her life had anyone offered to champion her.
“That’s sweet, but I’m okay,” she refused with a little shrug. Then she gave him what was probably the first genuine, friendly smile in their relationship. His jaw went slack, as if she’d kicked him in the shin.
Jordan blushed.
“What?” she asked, trying not to sound as defensive as she felt. As soon as Sebastian thought he had the upper hand, he’d go right back to nagging her to leave. “There’s only room for one Golden Boy, and you’ve got that position nailed.”
“What a stupid title,” he muttered.
Jordan’s smile widened. Walking through the room, she made sure he had plenty of towels and blankets. Then she headed for the door.
“What’s the matter,” she teased. “You didn’t know that was your primary designation at Machismo? Closely followed by Stud King, of course.”
She expected him to laugh. Instead he looked as if she’d punched him in the belly and called him a pansy.
“What?” she asked, her hand on the doorknob. No wonder she always ended up with losers. She obviously didn’t know how to talk with men. “I’m not poking fun at your masculinity or anything.”
He got this weird look on his face. Almost like panic. Then it was replaced by a set, determined expression that sent a trickle of worry down her spine. Kind of like the kind she got when someone told her she couldn’t do something. A look that warned, “Oh, yeah? Watch me.”
Brow furrowed, he strode slowly toward her. Jordan didn’t know why, but she suddenly wanted to run. Stupid. She wasn’t afraid of Sebastian Lane. Except…maybe she was a little afraid of that look on his face. And the way her body reacted to it.
Her thighs quivered. Warmth trickled from her suddenly beaded and aching nipples to deep in her belly. She forced herself to keep breathing normally as he stopped just a few inches from her.
Jordan swallowed, looking up to meet Sebastian’s gaze. A wicked glint sparked in his eyes, but beneath it she saw something else. Something edgy. Dangerous. Sexy as hell.
“Is that why you won’t leave, princess?” he murmured, planting one hand on the wall next to her head and leaning closer, so the warmth of his body wrapped around her like a silken blanket. “You’re wanting to find out for yourself just how studly I am?”
“Yeah, right,” she dismissed, shooting for sardonic. Instead, she sounded breathless and needy. It was hard to care, though, with Sebastian’s mouth just inches from hers. She stared, noting the laugh lines fanning from those hypnotic eyes and the dark whiskers starting to shadow the sharp edge of his jaw.
“Do you listen to the gossip often? All those whispered reports about how I like it in bed? Whether I’m a traditional, missionary style kind of guy? Or if I play on the kinky side?”
“Who whispers?” she said, her eyes locked on his lips. Smooth, full and enticing, they were right there, tempting her to do something stupid. “The talk about you is done in giggles and shouts. And traditional is the last word associated with your preferences.”
“And you’re wondering?”
“Only about your stamina.”
His grin was fast, appreciative and the final straw for Jordan. She couldn’t stop herself. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Just the tip of it.
That’s all it took. Sebastian’s eyes went from amused to molten. Then he lowered his head. Excitement did a happy sprint through Jordan’s tummy, her heart keeping pace. Desire, hot, wild and intense, flamed through her.
Finally!
Like a whisper, his lips brushed hers. Just barely a taste, a hint of the decadent deliciousness yet to come. Her breath lodged tight in her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could feel it against his mouth.
Then he pulled back. Eyes closed, he shook his head and turned away. Jordan almost screamed in protest. She wanted her kiss, dammit. It was all she could do not to grab him back as he strode toward the bed.
He sucked in a breath and turned to face her, shoving his hands in his pockets again, as if to hide them away.
“Gossip’s a funny thing, princess,” he said in a low voice. “Half of it’s always lies and nobody ever knows which half. And when it comes to rumors, someone usually gets hurt. I don’t want to see you be that someone.”
Frustration winding through her system like poison, Jordan could only stare. She had to force herself not to scream. So close, so damned close. A year of lusting after this guy. Of watching and wishing. Of being the only woman at Machismo he hadn’t hit on.
Fists clenched at her side, she contemplated snagging his arm, yanking him close and taking that damned kiss.
“Look—” he started.
“No harm, no foul,” she said, cutting him off. With her stiffest, fakest smile, she shrugged and stepped through the door. “I’ve got things to do. I’ll see you later.”
AN HOUR LATER, Jordan had finally gotten a handle on both her frustration and her fury in the best way she knew how.
Cooking.As always, Sebastian Lane made her yearn for oral satisfaction.
By the time the peppers and garlic were sautéing, she’d narrowed her problem down to one main question. What was she going to do with him?
She was hot for Sebastian Lane, she acknowledged as she chopped broccoli. That barely-there-but-still-melts-your-panties kiss had given her a tiny glimpse of what it could be like with him.
Incredible. Didn’t she owe herself incredible?
She laid eight strips of bacon in a second cast-iron skillet and contemplated all the reasons why incredible was a crazy idea.
Sebastian was out of her league. But, as she broke six eggs into a bowl, she mused that she wouldn’t mind trading up.
He was her father’s idea of the perfect man. The son ole dad had never had and would willingly barter her for in a heartbeat. She whisked the eggs a little harder than necessary, the froth splashing close to the rim of the bowl.
The month she’d started at Machismo, her father had hinted that he’d like to see her and Sebastian an item. Then she’d heard through a somewhat questionable source, her oldest sister the gossip queen, that Daddy had guaranteed Sebastian’s success at both Machismo and any other Olliver Publication. For the small price of marrying his youngest daughter. And hey, Juliette had assured her when she’d gleefully shared the gossip, it didn’t even have to be permanent. Just long enough for Daddy to claim Sebastian as his son.
She had to give him credit. Sebastian hadn’t taken the supposed offer. For the last year, she’d secretly wondered if it was out of some kind of morality or if he simply wasn’t interested in her.
She poured the eggs into the pan and watched them gently bubble as she recalled the look in his eyes when he’d bent down to brush his lips over hers.
He was interested. A little thrill danced low in her belly as she recalled the unmistakable interest in his eyes.
She was interested. She had the tingles to prove it.
She was sure he didn’t want her father getting ideas any more than she did, or the people at work spreading gossip.
But—she added vegetables to the omelet—maybe this weekend they could indulge their interest. Here, away from gossip and prying eyes.
The only question was, could she work up the nerve to proposition Sebastian into indulging that interest with her. While nerves simmered in the background, she dished up her version of dinner and reminded herself that she had all weekend.
Whether that was enough time to make a move, or to chicken out, she didn’t know.
LURED OUT OF HIDING by the delicious scents, Sebastian stepped into the kitchen and stopped short. He looked at Jordan, her short hair pulled off her face with a pretty ribbon. She’d changed into something that obviously included underwear, thank God. Her blouse was a feminine froth of color, like crushed raspberries, that made her skin glow. To distract himself from his own growing reaction, he looked at the table, set for two.
He opened his mouth, then shut it. He frowned, looked from her to the table, then shoved his hands in his pockets.
She burst into laughter.
“I’m kidding,” she said, giving him a warm smile that made his frown deepen. “Dinner’s ready. Have a seat.”
“I appreciate this,” he told her, not sure if his appreciation stemmed more from his growling stomach or his still-wincing ego, thankful that things hadn’t gotten ugly after that kiss upstairs.
She tilted her head to one side and sucked in her bottom lip. Sebastian dropped his gaze to her mouth. He recalled the deliciously sweet taste of that soft mouth. The way her breath hitched, her eyes had warmed. The way his body had reacted, hard and fast. And, he sighed, useless.
He’d ignored his interest in her before, but now, trapped in the mountains, he was finding himself fixated and obsessed. Nice addition to any curse, he had to say.
She came around the counter and he almost groaned. Jeans, tight and worn, cupped her thighs beneath the filmy blouse. Which was the real Jordan Olliver, he wondered. The one who wore girly clothes and beat the hell out of dishware up in the mountains? Who cooked like an angel, if the scents were anything to go by, and teased with a sparkling smile? Or the buttoned-up hardass who fought for bylines, kept her father’s name but didn’t use his clout and tossed off snarky one-liners with the best of them?
The need to know was driving him crazy.
“Come eat while it’s hot,” she said.
“What’re you up to?” he asked again, crossing to the table and taking his seat. He almost jumped right back up when she reached over and tapped his thigh gently.
“What makes you think I’m up to anything?”
“You’re being nice.”
“I’m a nice person.”
“I hadn’t heard that rumor.”
“Probably because those wild rumors about you tend to get all the attention.”
Sebastian grimaced. Every time she mentioned gossip, he felt like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He obviously didn’t regret the cookies, but he did wish people would quit talking about them so often.
“Like I said before, rumors are usually exaggerated.”
“But based in fact.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Did you hear the one about Garret and the head of marketing doing it on the copy machine? I’ve always felt there was little fact to be found in that one.”
“Probably because the head of marketing is too short to get on top of the copy machine,” Jordan said with a giggle. She actually giggled. Sebastian grinned in return.
“Tell you what,” she proposed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table and giving him a slow, wicked smile. The kind of smile that said she’d like to do naughty things to his body—it was all he could do not to strip bare, lay on the table and beg. “You give me a chance, despite the rumors. And I’ll do the same for you.”
He narrowed his eyes. What was she up to? He knew damned well she saw him as one of the main reasons she couldn’t get ahead at Machismo. So this had to be a ploy of some kind. But he didn’t see the catch. And there was always a catch.
Finally, his mouth quirked up on one side and he nodded. “Deal.”
Jordan winked, then proceeded to serve the omelet and fruit salad. The next half hour was filled with mouth-watering food and intriguing conversation. Sebastian didn’t even realize they’d eaten everything until he looked for his third helping.
“That was delicious,” he told her.
She gave him a nervous smile, opened her mouth as if to say something and then shook her head. With a little grimace, she got up from the table, carrying her dish with her.
“I cooked, you clean,” she informed him. “You don’t mind if I leave you to it, do you? I’ve got a few things to take care of.”
“Things like breaking more plates?” he asked as he carried the platters and glasses to the sink.
“Like I told you before, it’s a way to work off frustration,” she said with a shrug.
It was all he could do not to suggest some much more pleasurable, naked ways to work off frustration. But he knew what the results would be. Or not be.
Nope, while he’d love nothing more than to feast on her body like a five-course meal, he wasn’t about to do it unless he could be in on dessert. He didn’t know if it was pride or something else, but he wasn’t about to start something with Jordan that he couldn’t finish.
So he wished her luck with her crockery destruction and turned to do the dishes. As Sebastian rinsed and loaded the dishwasher, he stared out the window at the sunset, dripping brilliant colors over the mountains. For the first time in four weeks, he felt the tension start to unknot in his neck.
Ten minutes later and one last glance around the sterile kitchen and stunning view, and he congratulated himself on a job well done. He headed for the stairs, but on the way there a flash of color caught his eye.
A mosaic sunset covered the living room wall. Vivid colors melted, one into the other, in a bleeding tribute to the end of day. Sebastian rocked back on his heels, considering the image.
Passion. Power. And if a compilation of broken shards of tile could evoke it, pain.
Well, well. Not only did his favorite smart-mouthed princess wear floaty cotton over a whole lot of sexy skin in private, she was a closet artist.
He wasn’t sure which he found sexier.
With a growl, Sebastian stomped down the hall and out the front door. He’d been doing a great job of ignoring his attraction to Jordan. A weekend of enforced company was giving him way too many tempting insights into this sexy woman. Insights he didn’t need, considering he couldn’t do one damned thing about them. It wouldn’t be fair.
He crossed the yard, ignoring the black puddle oozing from under his car as he headed for the relative serenity of the lake.
Seated on a huge rock, he stared out over the calm water and wondered how the hell he’d ended up in this situation. He respected women. Hell, if he was all about the conquest, why hadn’t he gone after Jordan despite her father’s matchmaking games? She was gorgeous, smart and savvy. Her mouth was almost as enticing for the sass that came out of it as it was for the mobile fullness of her gorgeous lips.
She also had a body that wouldn’t quit. He shifted on his perch, his dick growing as hard as the rock under his ass.
He wondered if she secretly wore lacy panties. Or maybe slinky little nighties. The kind with just enough fabric to skim the top of silky golden thighs.
Yeah, if he didn’t respect women, he’d have gone for Jordan months ago. He’d have ignored the potential fallout from Olliver, a man who was willing to offer his own daughter as incentive to secure the guy he deemed worthy to run his empire. The empire was tempting, the idea of selling himself and humiliating Jordan wasn’t.
And all this obsessing was doing was distracting him from the problem at hand. The damned curse.
Determined to quit wasting time, he shoved all thoughts of Jordan out of his mind and focused instead on trying to figure out how to fix the mess his last big sexual mistake had caused.
Finally, without answers but figuring he had a couple avenues to explore, he headed back up the cabin steps. He saw a small table with a vivid green and blue mosaic pattern. Even though he’d never said so, he’d always admired Jordan’s talent.
He just hadn’t realized how many different talents she had.
Considering, he let himself in the front door. He’d made it three steps before he realized someone was halfway down the stairs.
A very sexy someone. Slick with a fine layer of oil, Jordan was naked except for a cherry-red towel wrapped over some very intriguing curves, and a wickedly naughty grin.
Talk about talent.
He was so screwed.
4
“OH, NO,” SEBASTIAN breathed, a half groan, half protest. “I thought you said you wouldn’t disturb me.”
The look on his face was a combination of shock, fear and a whole lot of interest. Even as he backed away from the door, his eyes roamed her body, the heat in that look making up for the evening chill as she stood there in her very skimpy, but hopefully sexy layer of baby oil and strategically placed terrycloth.As Jordan’s feminine ego soared, she managed to keep a straight face. “Disturb you? I hadn’t said a word. I was just heading out to the hot tub to unwind a little before bed.”
If standing at the top of the stairs waiting for him to return for the last fifteen minutes counted as heading out. She’d had second, third and tenth thoughts while waiting. It was crazy to think she could seduce Sebastian. After all, he was a do-’em-if-you-want-’em guy. Hardly the type to need convincing. And if she hadn’t seen the interest, the heat in his eyes—or heard his groan and pathetic little excuse about respect—she’d never have had the courage to try to convince him. But this weekend was her perfect chance. Probably her only one, dammit. She’d decided over dinner that she wanted him, but had chickened out on making a move. But a few hours, a few pieces of broken crockery, and she’d worked up the nerve.
And now he was arguing with her.
“Unwind?” he asked, his tone low and just a little suspicious. His eyes were narrowed, intense with desire and appreciation, though, as they wandered over her bare shoulders, down her glistening legs. Her body warmed, tingles shimmering low in her belly.
“Unwind,” she repeated in her sexiest tone. “You know, loosen a little tension and maybe even ease some of the pain screaming through my body from that tackle earlier today. And hopefully the water will help reduce the swelling in my knee.”
He winced when she turned her leg, showing him the purpling bruise swelling beneath the still-red slash bisecting her knee. The cool draft up her privates from the shifting towel was enough to remind her that she was standing half-naked in the hall for a reason. Sebastian had something she wanted. Jordan told herself to focus on the plan she’d spent the evening perfecting and not the discomfort in reaching it.
Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume III Page 12
