Caught on Camera

by Kim Law

  She fought to keep her breathing steady at the reminder.

  “And I can close my eyes and imagine how perfect you feel with your body pressed to mine.”

  She could do that with her eyes open.

  “I can also close my eyes and know how right it’s going to be when we finally make love.”

  “JP,” she whispered. She didn’t lift her head, but turned in his direction and looked at him. He had his head resting against the glass as she did, facing her. His eyes glittered in the reflection of the city. He wore the gleam of a man out to get what he wanted. “We’ve discussed this,” she said. “We won’t be going out. Plus, I’m not into being a notch on someone’s bedpost.”

  “Then you’d better stay away from Martens.” His tight voice gave him away, and she peered closer at him.

  The man was jealous. Though nothing had changed that would allow her to be with him, a sizzle of hope bounced around inside of her, lighting all the places she would best forget she had.

  Jealous!

  But was it at the thought of Evan sleeping with her—not that he was going to—or was it simply that being with Evan would mean Evan had “won” instead of him? The flare of excitement fizzled. She shrugged and stood up straight, facing him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but if I wanted to sleep with Evan Martens, there’s not a thing in the world you could do to stop it.”

  That got him. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in so close she breathed his aura with each inhalation.

  “If anyone here is taking you to bed, it’s me.” His voice was hard. Matter-of-fact.

  She licked her lips and swore she could taste him. “Thank you, but I’ll make my own decisions.”

  “The last thing Martens cares about is you, Vega.”

  She laughed out loud. “And you care about me?”

  A voice came from the other room, announcing five minutes until the auction started. Neither turned toward the sound.

  “Maybe I do.”

  His uncertainty stopped her from replying with another snippy comment, the confusion in his gaze matching her own.

  “You don’t care about me, JP. You don’t even know me.”

  “But I want to.”

  She studied him, her heart thudding in her chest. “Why?” she whispered. “Why does it matter when you can have any woman you want?”

  He broke eye contact then, turning to scowl out the window. She held her breath as she waited for his answer. She didn’t want it to matter, but couldn’t stop the desire. Not only sexually, but something that ran deeper. Something that seemed to call out to her and say that they were two souls fighting the same battles.

  Yet that made no sense.

  He was a Davenport, for crying out loud. He had everything he wanted at his disposal, could snap his fingers and get the world to jump, and would soon be the country’s next hero.

  She, on the other hand, had very little of what she wanted. She’d made so many mistakes of her own, she’d not only run her mother back to her home country, but she’d been forced to let her own dreams drift away as well.

  She and JP couldn’t be more unalike.

  Without making eye contact, JP picked up her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing kisses to each knuckle. “I have no idea,” his voice was low. “But I’m not ready to let whatever this is end tonight.”

  He turned to her, tucking her hand between both of his and resting them against his chest. “You said last night that you believe I’m better than I give myself credit for. What did you mean by that?”

  That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She went back in her mind to those parting words, recalling the hint of something she’d seen in his eyes every time she’d been around him.

  She took a half step forward, bumping the toes of their shoes together, and lifted her face to his as she thought through her answer. “You’re highly successful. A selfless, charitable man. And the person the whole country has expected to do well since the day you were born.” She wrapped her free hand around the outside of their intertwined ones. “And you’ve always met everyone’s expectations. Only…I think you’re living behind a protective layer.”

  His features didn’t change. “How so?”

  “You play up the persona of playboy to keep anyone from getting too close to the real you. But why?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Really?” She squeezed his hands, caressing a thumb over them. They were big and strong, and she found it incredibly odd that she was the one holding him when what she’d wanted for years was someone to hold her. “You’re saying you really are the shallow date-them-once-or-twice man you’d have everyone believe? That you don’t want more than that? That you don’t deserve more?”

  His jaw twitched. “If you don’t think I’m that person, then why not go out with me?”

  She blew out a breath of air. “I have far more reasons not to go out with you than not wanting to be dumped after getting into bed, but we’re talking about you right now.”

  “Fine.” He nodded once. “Go on.”

  With a bluntness that surprised even her, she said, “I think you’re afraid to try for anything deeper because you fear you won’t live up to your parents’ love affair. That by not finding the same thing, you’ll somehow be a disappointment. I guess the question is, who are you worried about disappointing? Your mother? The country? Or are you simply afraid you’ll dig deep enough you’ll have to admit to yourself that you’re as hollow as you pretend to be?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WOW.” THE SHOCK of her words knocked JP out of the trancelike state he’d been in.

  He dropped her hands and put a foot of space between them. Of all the things he’d thought she might say, bringing up his parents’ love life hadn’t been one of them. And wouldn’t she love to know that what the world thought of as the perfect relationship had in fact been trite and cheap in the end?

  “That’s some story you’ve imagined in your head.” He’d been really close to begging her to buy him again.

  Vega turned her hands palms up. “So prove me wrong. Explain why it seems you’ve never had anything more meaningful than a one-night stand, or at the best, an extended weekend.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  “No? When was your last relationship that lasted longer than a weekend?”

  He set his jaw, wondering how he’d gotten himself into this conversation when all he really wanted was to take her to bed. “I’ve had plenty of relationships that lasted longer than a weekend.” He named a couple of well-known women he’d dated.

  Vega shook her head. “From what I heard, those were merely booty calls.”

  The women in question would have liked making them more than that, JP thought. That should count for something.

  He eyed the woman standing in front of him, wondering why he’d thought following her out into the hall like a lovesick puppy would get him anywhere. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on this subject.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Dammit, Vega. I didn’t come out here to argue with you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Then what, exactly, did you hope to accomplish?”

  Her words probably weren’t meant as the challenge his ego took them to be, but he could no more ignore them than he could the chemistry that tied them together. Without giving her time to guess his intent, he reached forward to grip her face and brought her to him.

  This time he didn’t stop to question whether she’d allow the kiss. He just took it.

  JP’s lips pressed into Vega’s with hard intensity, jolting her to her toes and clogging the breath in her throat. His hands were splayed against the sides of her face, and for seconds, neither of them moved, nothing but his lips and hands touching her.

  Then as if on a coiled spring, he pulled back, gaping down in bewilderment, his expression saying he was experiencing the same things she was feeling at the moment. Fire, fear, and a frightening desperation for more.


  The breath she’d been holding burst from her lungs, and she quickly sucked in another, her chest rising and falling between the two of them as they remained frozen, staring at each other. JP’s gaze flickered to her mouth and back to her eyes. Then again. As if not knowing whether to come back for more or run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

  She made the decision for him. She edged up her chin, her lips trembling. “More,” she whispered.

  His eyes flamed. Then, as gentle as the first time had been hard, he angled his head and lowered his lips.

  He pressed a soft, closed-mouthed kiss to her, lingering only for a second. Pulled back and made eye contact, then swooped in for another touch—this time a swipe along her bottom lip, nipping the flesh before retreating.

  She rose onto her tiptoes, reaching, wanting more, but he merely touched another tender kiss to her lips and pulled back to watch, his blue eyes now so dark she couldn’t make out which emotions played through them and which didn’t.

  As she stood, still within the hands holding her, she wet her lips and slipped her hands to the front of his chest. The rough texture of the tuxedo jacket sent a shiver down her spine as she imagined its coarseness caressing her naked skin. Then she slid her palms under the lapels and flattened them on his chest, warming at the feel of his heart thundering beneath her fingers.

  He was clearly as turned on as she. Then why wouldn’t he take more?

  She met his gaze and understood. Their touch was more than he’d expected too.

  She gave a little nod. “Kiss me, JP,” she whispered. “Like you mean it.”

  With a groan, he finally lowered his head and latched on as if never intending to let go. His tongue pressed hot between her lips, and at long last, slipped inside.

  “Vega,” he moaned, breaking for breath. He shifted them both, angling his head to taste her from the opposite direction. Her hands inched higher, reaching his neck. When they connected, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body to his, then clung as if no longer able to maintain the strength to stand on her own two feet.

  The sensations swamping her made her head spin.

  With another grunt, JP walked her backward. When she bumped the wall, he used his body to press her into it. His hands roamed lower, down her back and over her rear. He gripped her, spanning the width of her hips, then yanked her forward to join with the hard ridge straining from him. She wanted to touch without the barrier of clothes. She wanted it all.

  Too soon, his grip loosened and his fingers went on another journey, all the while his lips and tongue plundered, seeking out every inch of her mouth, as if certain her secrets were hidden deep in the warmth.

  His hands flattened under her shoulder blades, holding her breasts tight to his chest long enough to inspire her with the idea of lifting her legs and wrapping them around him. Before she could raise either limb, he was off on his next exploration. His hands flittered over her sides and around to her front, never landing, merely skimming, his staggering breaths bathing her as his thumbs crawled up her front and swiped at the undersides of her breasts. At the touch, he tensed.

  Their lips parted. Barely.

  Instead of going higher, his hands dipped, gripping the material over her stomach and holding on. His clenched fingers screamed fear of going further, yet terror of not continuing.

  “Vega,” he pressed a hard kiss to her lips.

  Their chests rose and fell in sync, the tips of her breasts touching him for a split second before moving away, then doing it all over again. “Yes?”

  “Baby.” One hand lifted to cup her jaw, his voice scratchy. His fingers shook as they explored the crest of her chin, then across her bottom lip. “This…” He paused and pressed another kiss to her mouth, his thumb tugging downward to give him complete access to sample her. “We need more of this. Need to see what it is.”

  She couldn’t disagree. She’d never experienced anything like this kiss. It—JP—completely engulfed her, made her forget why she fought it. Not even with the man she’d once thought she’d loved had it ever been this wild and untamed. This urgent.

  The thought of Ted brought her back to the present, and she lowered her head, a soft groan ripping from her in anguish. She pushed away from JP, attempting to find enough space to think, but he maintained the hold on her shirt, keeping her close.

  “Don’t,” he pleaded, the word drawn out between them. “Don’t pull away.”

  She shook her head. “We can’t. We shouldn’t be out here. Shouldn’t be doing this.”

  His body stilled, the fingers at her waist clenching, then letting go, and she hesitantly peered back up at him. Blue eyes flickered and changed until she could once again make out something more than desire. Finality.

  His face began shutting down, masking the heat that had been so clear only seconds before. He was accepting that it was over. The thought fired panic through her entire body.

  She should agree. Not want to scream for him to come back.

  She could do neither. The thought of not exploring this thing between them almost had her pleading, begging for him not to look at her like that. She wanted the hot and hungry man who’d been clinging to her only moments before as if his life depended on it.

  “JP?” She didn’t know what she was asking.

  The pads of his fingers smoothed over the curves of her face, one finger lingering to draw a line from the middle of her forehead and over her cheek, ending at her mouth. He gave her a tight smile. “I won’t do this alone. Change your mind and I’ll pay whatever you bid. And I’ll figure out a way to keep the press out. I guarantee.”

  Then he was gone, leaving her to make her own sense of what had just happened. The man had been vulnerable in her arms. Literally shaking at the power of holding and kissing her.

  And she’d pushed him away.

  She slumped against the wall. She’d had to do it, for both their sakes.

  Sixty minutes later, the final auction item was announced and the room erupted with a buzz. A high-pitched, all-female buzz. Vega panned the crowd to capture the excitement for the man of the hour, then settled the camera back on him as the bidding began. The gorgeous woman he’d been talking with after dinner lifted her hand in the air to start the bid.

  Vega’s heart pounded as she watched a ridiculous number of women vie for an evening with JP. Old, young, it didn’t matter. It appeared everyone wanted a date with the next Davenport up-and-comer. And said date spent the time preening on stage. Making sure they saw exactly what they’d be getting.

  Finally, the hands began to whittle down. Women dropped out of the race, shaking their heads to indicate they couldn’t go any higher, until only two remained. They both rose to their feet. The first bidder, and another woman Vega had barely noticed before now.

  She was in her early thirties, well built—and not afraid to advertise the fact—and wore the look of a woman confident in both her looks and her ability to win this current item. The worst part—she was even more beautiful than bidder number one. The woman’s pitch-black hair flowed in waves down her back, perfectly setting off her deep-purple gown and amazing curves. Vega shifted behind the camera, suddenly feeling drab and dowdy.

  “You know who that is, don’t you?” Darrin whispered from her left.

  “Who?”

  “The bombshell looking like she intends to go home with Davenport.”

  He had to be talking about Purple Curves. “I’ve no idea.” Though a memory niggled at the back of her mind. It felt like she should know who it was, but she’d only caught a glimpse of her face. Enough to let her know the woman was gorgeous.

  Vega zoomed in on JP as he caught sight of the final two bidders. Number One waved her hand in the air to bid, and after smiling at her, JP turned to Vega’s camera and gave a polite don’t-make-me-do-this smile.

  “It’s Greta Kirby.”

  Vega pulled away from the eyepiece and gaped at Darrin. “The one who posed in Playboy, then married that old guy wh
o just died? The rich old guy?”

  He gave a wink. “That’s the one. Looks like she’s on the prowl for sugar daddy number two.” He nodded toward the camera. “Better keep watching, this could get ugly.”

  Vega studied the woman. It was her. She’d been blonde when Vega had known her before, as well as during her brief marriage, but Vega recognized her from her modeling days. Greta had been a few years older, but the two of them had worked together once during a shoot.

  Greta bid and Vega watched JP’s eyes take in his other possibility. They roamed way too long over the woman’s surgically altered body before the sexiest smile Vega had ever seen was tossed the other woman’s way. Vega’s stomach hit the ground. If he wanted that woman, then he could have her.

  A soft whistle rent the air beside Vega’s ear. “Looks like a match made in heaven.”

  JP turned to the camera again and looked straight at Vega. This time, one eyebrow arched as if to say, Now that I could do.

  Fury filled her head like the sound of a jet taking off directly overhead. She would not stand there and watch this any longer. She turned, intending to leave, but Darrin blocked her path.

  “What are you doing?” His whisper was harsh.

  “I need to go.”

  He motioned to the camera. “Get back up there. This is the best part of the night.”

  She shook her head. Not even the threat of losing her job could get her to stay. Hell, it wouldn’t matter after tonight anyway. “You do it.”

  Before he could object, Vega made a dash for the ladies’ room, hearing the bids continue to go up behind her. And then one of them stopped.

  Her heart stopped as well.

  “Any more bids?” the announcer asked.

  She peeked out of the corner of her eye to see who had won him. Purple Curves. Bile rose in her throat. Vega looked at JP and found him watching her.

  “Going once.”

  She swallowed. She couldn’t buy him; everyone was watching. She tried to move, but her feet were rooted to the spot. JP’s lips pressed into a straight line, disappointment obvious.