Jane Millionaire

by Janice Lynn

  “Catch you at a bad time?”

  “I was sleeping.” Sounded like he still half was.

  Jill did a quick calculation of the time difference. “Oops. Sorry about that. Wasn’t sure when I’d get another chance to call.”

  “It’s okay. What’s up, Your Royal Pain in the Butt?” he teased, sounding more awake. She could picture him scooting up to a sitting position in his bed, blond hair tousled and a sleepy look on his face.

  “I wanted to check on Jess, but I couldn’t reach her when I tried calling.”

  “She’s twenty-five,” he reminded.

  “So?” Jill twisted the curly phone cord around her finger.

  “So, if she doesn’t answer her phone, maybe it’s because she’s busy. Probably with that new fiancé of hers.”

  Jill sighed. “You’re right. I just wanted to check on her. You know how she is.”

  “You’re her sister, not her mother, Jill. For once why don’t you worry about yourself and the mess she’s gotten you into this time. You should have made her go.”

  “Actually, it’s not been too bad so far. I’m staying at a castle surrounded by lots of men all catering to me. What more could a girl ask for?”

  “Trying to make me jealous?” he joked.

  “Could I?” she asked, not sure why. She’d already worked out that Dan had done the right thing breaking off their romantic ties. She valued their friendship, but wouldn’t take him back as a lover, would she?

  “No. Nor do you want me to be.”

  She sighed. He was right. “Yeah, I know that and you know that, but does the perfect girlfriend from Hell know that? I take it she’s there with you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Tell her I said hi.”

  “Now’s probably not the best time to do that.”

  Jill snickered. “Okay, you’re right.” From the corner of her eye she noticed one of the crewmembers standing from the table. Uh-oh. “Look, I’m going to have to go in just a sec. Have you checked on Jessie lately?”

  “Saw her yesterday, and she’s fine. Quit playing mother hen.”

  Was that what she was doing? And of all people, he should know why she had to look out for Jessie. He’d worked on the force during all those legal fiascos. For that matter, without Dan she might not have ever made it through Jessie’s rebellion after their parent’s death. He’d been at her side from the beginning.

  “You know what kind of trouble she gets into. I just don’t want to come home to a mess.”

  “If she makes a mess, let her clean it up. She might amaze you by acting like a grown up.”

  Jill scowled. “You make it sound like I’m smothering her and her irresponsibility is my fault.”

  The line crackled with silence.

  “Dan,” she started and glanced up to look directly into Rob’s tawny eyes, not two feet from her. Uh-oh. “Speak up a bit, please. You’re calling for a Dan Jones? Just a minute and let me see if there’s someone by that name here.” She placed her hand over the mouthpiece and called out, “Is there a Dan Jones here? There’s a call for Dan Jones.” She met Rob’s narrowed gaze and shrugged as she spoke into the phone.

  “I’m sorry, but no one’s answering to that name.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” Dan demanded. “Is someone listening? Jill, are you okay?”

  “Yes, that’s quite alright. Maybe you’ll catch up with your friend soon.”

  “Someone’s there, but you’re ‘quite alright’,” Dan correctly guessed. “If I didn’t think it was good for you and Jess for you to be out of pocket for six weeks, I’d strangle her for getting you into this mess.”

  “Oh, he’s not your friend?” Jill waved her hand at Rob, acting as if she were just being polite. She needed to know Dan was going to look out for Jess. “A brother? Wow, I always wanted to have a big brother to watch out for me. Little sister’s need watching out for, you know.”

  “Hint taken, Your Royal Pain in the Butt. Take care of you, and I’ll keep an eye on Jess. No worries.”

  “Well, good luck. Bye now.” Her heart squeezed from missing Jess and Dan, but she carefully kept her emotions checked as she replaced the handset and smiled at Rob. “Sorry about that.”

  “Just what was that about?” He looked suspicious as a man could get.

  “The pay phone rang as I was walking by so I answered it.” She shrugged, reminding herself that he couldn’t tell that her heart raced. “I think the poor guy had the wrong number.”

  “Wrong number, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Kind of odd for someone to be looking for a Dan Jones in this country, don’t you think?”

  “Now that you mention it, you’re right. Still, that’s who he asked for.” She reached out and ran her finger down the front of his shirt, knowing she had to distract him before he pried the truth from her. “Wanna dance?”

  Not that she knew how to dance to the wild rhythm music playing in the background, but she’d figure it out if he said yes. The prospect of being in Rob’s arms threw her heart into a wild rhythm of it’s own.

  An odd look passed over his face, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of her. “No, we don’t need to draw any more attention than two tables full of Americans in the middle of a European bar already does.”

  She laughed, hooked her arm with his, and enjoyed the oncoming zings as they walked back to their tables.

  “You think everyone in this tavern doesn’t know an American film crew rented that monstrosity where we’re staying?” Jill asked. “I promise you, they all do.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.” She winked at him. “Now, tell me about the bachelors and how they were chosen.”

  “Eenie, meenie, miny, moe. Catch a bachelor by his toe.” Rob started with a gleam in his eyes.

  She slapped his arm playfully.

  “I bet you’ve chosen some real winners with that foolproof, scientific method.”

  “Just wait. One of them will sweep you off your feet and romance you to the tune of twenty million plus viewers.

  Yeah, that’s what she was worried about, because she’d already met the man she wanted to romance her. Too bad he was plotting for another man, actually a dozen men, to do the job instead.

  Chapter Four

  “The bachelors will be here tomorrow night. I’m so nervous. Will they like me? Will I be attracted to any of them?”

  Rob watched the video clip of Jane contemplating the bachelors’ arrival. She sat next to him in the cluttered with equipment studio, leaning in as she pointed at her image on the screen. She wore jeans, a t-shirt, and one of the headsets so she could listen to the recordings. Her hair was swept up in a ponytail. She’d apparently scrubbed her face clean because she no longer wore a drop of the make-up Gregory had painstakingly applied prior to a photo shoot and filming the scene they watched. Most of the women he knew would rather be shot than be seen without their armor of paint.

  Mandy sure hadn’t let him see her sans her war paint. Apparently, Jane couldn’t rid herself of Gregory’s artwork soon enough.

  “I feel ridiculous watching myself think out loud,” she mumbled as she stared at the monitor in obvious distaste.

  “Just don’t do it in front of the bachelors.” Rob grinned. JP was right. America was going to love Jane. And when they did, Gambler would really happen--if he could keep his hands off of his current star. Which he would. Somehow. No woman was worth losing this shot at success.

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” she assured. Something in her tone made Rob wonder what he’d learn if he could hear her thoughts out loud at this moment.

  “Are you excited about tomorrow night?” he asked. Most of the crew had traveled an hour away to the hotel where the bachelors roomed for the evening. They were being filmed in the hotel’s bar discussing the princess.

  She shrugged. “I’m meeting twelve men who are competing for my affections so they can dump me for a hundred grand. What’
s not to be excited about?”

  “You’re too young to be so cynical.” Not that he necessarily believed his own words, but the phrase seemed like an appropriate response.

  “What about you? Do you think one of these guys is really going to fall in love with me while all of America watches?” Her emerald eyes challenged him to be honest.

  Rob adjusted the earpiece he wore. What could he say? He wasn’t an advocate for love or reality TV. Most of what he’d seen when researching this project was about as bogus as television got.

  Love. Reality television. Ha, what was the difference?

  He knew just how real love was. It lasted just as long as you could help a woman one more notch up the proverbial ladder of success. Once she’d clawed her way up your back, love lost all its allure.

  “It could happen,” he said, after all, stranger things had.

  “But it won’t.”

  Why did she make comments downing her appeal when she exuded confidence in so many other ways? Hell, he was pretty sure he’d never met a more together woman than the one sitting next to him. Too bad she wanted Hollywood’s glitter. Lust for stardom would ruin her.

  Not that any of his ramblings mattered. Jane was hands-off in so many ways somebody should post warning signs. Certainly, the prospect of her finding love on a reality show warranted a “Danger Ahead” notice.

  Distracted, he said the first thing that popped into his head. “The question is whether or not you will fall in love with one of them.”

  “I’ve already told you, I don’t believe in love.” Her eyes glowed a hypnotic green, like kryptonite. Fortunately for him, he was no super hero. His heart rate picked up anyway; throbbing so loud the booming beat probably echoed throughout the castle. Actually, his entire body throbbed, making him wonder if he should run while he could--before she sapped his ordinary male strength that was quickly succumbing to her supernatural feminine appeal.

  “One bad experience and you’re shelving happily-ever-after for life?” It bothered him that he wanted to know as Rob the man, not Rob the producer. Maybe he should invest in a red cape and a bright “S” for his chest. If it would help him resist her allure, he might be tempted to wear blue spandex.

  “How do you know it only happened once?” A quick shimmer of pain flashed in her eyes.

  His grip on the computer mouse tightened. Just how many men had hurt her? And why the hell should he want to track down complete strangers just so he could pound their sorry faces?

  Maybe her green gaze had robbed his sanity right along with his strength. No spandex tights were going to protect him.

  “What about you? Any gaping chest wounds in your past?”

  He blinked at her question. “We aren’t discussing me.”

  And he certainly didn’t want to rehash any of his old flames. Not now, not ever. He looked at the computer screen, hoping she’d take the hint and let the subject drop.

  “We are now.”

  Damn, she was quick on the come back. He laughed in spite of himself, admitting, “A few.”

  “And do you still believe in forever and all that jazz?”

  He considered her question before answering. “I believe a man and a woman can have fun for as long as the attraction lasts. But once it’s gone, forever is a hell of a long time.”

  “You say that like you’ve had a few long relationships.”

  He didn’t turn from the computer monitor, but knew her gaze remained on him. “Only my marriage, and I doubt that classifies as long.”

  “You’re married?” She sounded distressed, and he looked at her. She stared at his bare left hand, her face pale.

  “Not in the past ten years. Mandy and I divorced when I was twenty-one.” He hadn’t regretted that decision a single time. Any bitterness he held came from how he’d given her his heart and all she’d really wanted was a free ride on his determined path to Hollywood success.

  “Twenty-one? How old were you when you got married?” She leaned closer, her chair squeaking with her movement. He got a whiff of flowers, not strong, just a subtle scent that made him want to inhale deeply to fully experience her fragrance.

  “Eighteen and old enough to know better.” Just like he was old enough to know better than to inhale. Don’t inhale. Don’t inhale.

  He inhaled.

  The scent of roses seduced him.

  “What happened?” Genuine concern and curiosity shone on her face and Rob shifted in his chair as much from his intoxicating lungful of Jane’s scent as from the conversation.

  How had they gotten into a discussion about Mandy? And why was he telling Jane about her? He never talked about his disastrous marriage. Why bother when everyone else had already read about his biggest failure thanks to media rags such as The Tattler. His marriage had ended because his wife stayed busy sleeping with anyone she thought capable of advancing her career. He bit back an ironic snort. Not that she’d been doing any actual sleeping in her bed-hopping adventures. Over the past ten years, she’d periodically begged Rob to take her back. Usually when she was between husbands or her career was going a bit slow. Not once had he been tempted.

  Just like during their run in the gardens, it surprised him he’d revealed so much about himself to Jane. He generally guarded his privacy with a tenacity that would frighten off the most determined.

  “I’m sorry. I have no right to pry. Being a cop, I’m used to asking questions, and expecting people to answer.” She smiled apologetically, tucking a stray strand of highlighted chestnut hair behind her petite ear. “Sometimes I forget I’m not wearing my badge.”

  Glad for the change of subject, he ran his gaze over her, trying to picture her in her every day life. “It’s hard for me to imagine you in a uniform chasing down bad guys.”

  “Why?”

  Their chairs were side-by-side. Less than two feet separated his body from hers. It wasn’t nearly enough space. Two miles might not be, not when her expression was warm, inviting and completely stole his breath.

  “I see you as Jane and not a police officer,” he answered honestly. Why had he just leaned closer to her when he’d meant to shift as far away as his chair would allow?

  Her eyes danced with humor. Apparently oblivious to his inner stirrings, she broke into the theme song from Cops.

  Bad boys was right. Rob could think of a few things he’d do if she came for him. Like explode deep inside her. Aw hell. Where had that come from--he grimaced at his own usage of the word. He needed to pull his mind from the gutter. His other wayward body parts, too.

  “Seriously, I’ve been awarded Officer of the Year two years in a row.” Her chest puffed with pride and the hair she’d just tucked aside fell back across her face.

  Still battling his lustful demons, he longed to push that strand back into place. His gaze traveled over her beautiful face, lower to the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. He glanced up and didn’t bother to hide the lust slamming through him. What would be the point when he’d been as obvious as daylight? “I can see why.”

  Her previously bright smile faded. “Just what are you saying?”

  Her chin jutted forward, her shoulders squared, and her glare slashed into him, which should have dampened the heat surging through him. So, why hadn’t it? He should have run when he’d realized her gaze packed kryptonite. Even the man of steel would have gotten out of Metropolis. He had to douse this flame between them. Fast. Too bad he didn’t have a red cape. Leaping tall buildings would be a breeze compared to ignoring his attraction to Jane or to intentionally hurting her. Damn, he hated this, but he’d do what needed doing.

  “It’s unlikely you out-performed the men you work with. I imagine a female officer is cut a lot of slack.”

  Her indrawn breath cut him to the core, but he didn’t take back his intentional slur.

  “I got those awards because I’d earned them. Both times.” Her chin tilted at a proud slant.

  “I’m sure you did.”

  She eyeballed
him as if he was a snake that had crawled out from under the lowest rock. And even though he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, the sinking feeling in his gut told him he’d messed up. Big time. That’s what he got for allowing his crotch to distract him. The only thing he should be worried about where Jane was concerned was ensuring this show’s success. Not anything personal. They had to avoid personal at all costs.

  “I’m a damn good police officer and not because of anything I’ve done while lying on my back.” She quietly stood, pushed her chair up and walked out of the studio with her head high. Regal as a queen--er, Princess.

  Remorse gnawed his insides. How had he instinctively known how to hurt her? Even worse, a part of him had believed his chauvinistic comment. He really was a lowdown, belly-crawling snake. But the women he normally dealt with used their bodies to get ahead, to accomplish what they wanted. Why should he expect Jane to be different?

  Because she was different. Different from anyone he’d ever met. He liked her. Too much.

  The thought of her sex with her had sent him into testosterone overload, and he’d purposely offended her. Now she’d think him a jerk and maybe the undercurrents between them would fizzle.

  He grimaced and stood from his chair, not liking where he was headed. After Jane. Bad. Bad. Bad. He should let things stand as is, but he couldn’t. He owed her an apology.

  Not to mention her thinking him a heel had him feeling like one in the worst kind of way. Bad boy indeed.

  # # #

  Jill pushed the castle door open and strolled to the garden with an outer calm she didn’t feel. Her insides bubbled with frustration and the need to escape Rob’s male arrogance.

  Men! She’d thought he was different. Not that it mattered. He was totally unavailable. But, darn it, she’d wanted to believe in him.

  He might see her as a woman--a desirable woman even--but he suffered from the same affliction as every other man in her life. She had to work twice as hard to get respect. So she had, and did. She’d finally earned her fellow officers’ respect. They’d voted for her because she’d deserved the honor and not because of any favors she’d given them--at least not the sexual kind. No one could accuse her of using sex.