by Janice Lynn
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm, the one she’d been fantasizing of running her fingertips over. His biceps flexed, solid and hard, against her palm. The ever-present zings of their skin contact pulsated through her.
He slowly pivoted. “What?”
She leaned close, whispered the words in his ears to prevent them from being picked up by the recording equipment. “I know I’m not supposed to be, but I’m attracted to you.”
She held her breath as she waited for him to react to her foolish admission.
“Don’t be.” He pulled back, his body tense, his hot masculine scent tempting her nostrils.
“I’m not very good at the games men and women play. Maybe it’s the cop in me, but I don’t like to evade the issue.” Her heart raced, and if not for the desire she saw in his gaze she would probably chicken out, but her every instinct told her he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She’d learned to trust her instincts long ago and doing so had saved her live on more than one occasion. Of course, in Rob’s case, her instincts sent out conflicting messages. Stay away. Kiss him.
She reached up, closer, almost close enough to press her lips to his ear. Heat, his heat, emanated, seduced her to go ahead, to taste his salty flesh. “I’d really like you to kiss me.”
His muscles contracted beneath her grasp. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” She breathed in deep, his musky scent adding to the longings building within her. The man oozed pheromones.
“I’m not one of the bachelors.”
She could barely hear his strained words. Had that been a Spanish curse under his breath? Whatever, it sure hadn’t sounded like an endearment.
“So? Can’t I spend this evening with you? Somewhere away from the cameras? At least until it’s time for me to show at the pool? Or afterwards? No one has to know.” Part of her was embarrassed by her boldness. Part of her warned she was skirting with danger. Another reveled in her initiative. Jill Davidson was hitting on a man--and, for once, not with her fists. Cool.
“Not a good idea.” He pulled his arm free but didn’t step away.
“I’ve seen how you look at me.” The same way he looked at her this very moment. As if a genie granted him one wish, he’d choose her as his prize without hesitation.
“That’s why we don’t need to spend any more time together than is absolutely necessary. I made a mistake by spending so much time with you before the bachelors arrived. I knew better, but,” he paused and ran his hand through his dark hair. Looking frustrated, he shot a glance at the camera, then leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “If we do, I won’t be able to help myself; I’ll have to have you.”
And that was a bad thing?
“What if that’s what I want?” She told him with her gaze that was exactly what she wanted.
“You can’t.”
A bead of sweat trickled down his neck and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with his workout. Her gaze followed its path until his sleeveless t-shirt absorbed the drop. Tension visibly coiled through his body. He wanted her. She wanted him. Forget all the reasons why she shouldn’t be with this man.
“But I do. So very much.” Her lips parted in excited anticipation.
His head moved closer, his eyes locked on her mouth. Abruptly, he jerked away. He stepped back, determination on his face.
“I won’t ruin JANE MILLIONAIRE just to get laid.”
He forgot to keep his voice down, or he simply didn’t care if the camera picked up the sound. Jill was too shocked to remind him as he ripped her heart to shreds with his next words.
“And that’s all a girl like you could ever be to a man like me.”
# # #
Jill plastered a smile onto her face as she stepped, clad only in a bikini, outside the castle a little before nine. An itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny green bikini. Ugh. She always wore a functional one piece, but Gregory had insisted she wear the tiny scraps of shiny material. She had so much skin on display she may as well have been naked.
Oh, and don’t forget her stiletto heels. Heels with a bathing suit. She rolled her eyes toward the star-strewn sky. The beauty of the cloudless sky with its bed of twinkling diamonds failed to impress her. She was too busy concentrating on putting one foot in front of another. How ridiculous. She’d probably fall and break her neck, Jessie would have to fly overseas, and the truth would come out. Just peachy keen.
Wolf whistles greeted her.
Jill cringed on the inside, squelched the desire to fold her arms in front of her chest, and smiled like she was auditioning for the role of Miss America as she click-clacked across the patio.
Just remember, you wanted all this male attention.
Even after she stumbled, darn high heels, she forced herself to continue smiling. After all, two cameramen stuck to her like glue.
“What’ll you have, doll?” Bachelor #7 asked, placing his hand on her rear.
“Not you.” She pulled away and suppressed the urge to toss him in to the pool. Several bachelors laughed. Very self-conscious of her state of undress, she carefully swayed over to a poolside table, praying the entire way she wouldn’t fall smack dab on her face. Who ever heard of wearing three-inch heels with a swimsuit?
Two of the bachelors grabbed her chair to pull it out.
“Thank you,” she said as she winked at another. She would play the role JP had outlined for her--even if she felt ridiculous doing so. Her ego needed a boost after the beating Rob had given it in the exercise room. Not that he wasn’t right, or that he’d told her anything she hadn’t already known.
The best thing she could do was forget about the way he made her pulse race.
Too much was at stake. His hot, sweaty body had made her lose reason, but he’d doused her in cold reality. She needed to stay away from him before she forgot she was a fake in every sense of the word. Before she forgot that personal relationships with co-workers never worked anyway. She’d focus on the bachelors, hope she didn’t get caught, and make it through these next few weeks. Then she’d go back to California and do as Rob suggested--forget he existed.
And maybe buy a little oceanfront property in Arizona while she was at it.
After two hours of smiling, laughing, and, surprisingly, enjoying the bachelors’ company, Jill excused herself. She walked through the house and toward the stairs minus the two cameramen who were still filming the bachelors--probably discussing her. She froze when Rob stepped into the foyer seconds after she did.
“You did a great job tonight.” His eyes raked over her bikini-clad body even while he grimaced, as if he hated looking yet couldn’t help himself.
Her nipples hardened to beaded pebbles beneath the scraps of green. How did he do that with just a look? She shivered.
“Cold?”
Damn him for calling attention to the fact her body responded to him even after he’d been a jerk to her.
“It is a bit nippy in here.” She turned to walk away, determined to ignore how her body reacted to him, but his hand clasped around her upper arm.
“Surely, you see the problems that would ensue if we act on the attraction between us?” He whispered into her ear, and she almost shuddered at the effect his closeness wreaked upon her senses.
“Whatever.” She pursed her lips. How was she supposed to ignore how he affected her when he was touching her? “The only problem I see is your fingers on my arm. Unhand me, or I’ll unhand myself.”
His eyes glittered. “I’m not one of the bachelors who will let you make a fool of me.”
“Oh really? You think they’ve been letting me kick their butts?” She poked her finger in his chest. “Maybe you’d like to see how you measure up, stud-muffin?”
“Don’t push me.” He clenched his jaw.
Jill was too far gone to care. She’d had enough of his steamy looks, then cold shoulders when she’d bared her heart to him and told him how much she wanted him.
“Oh-h, I’m so-o scared, dude.” She tapped her finger against his
solid pecs. “One-on-one. Basketball, hand-to-hand combat, boxing, the firing range. Name your poison.”
She tried to ignore the way her breasts brushed against him, the way his spicy, fresh-from-the-shower scent intoxicated her better judgment. A tiny tic along his jaw line proved he wasn’t as calm as he’d like her to think. Good. Calm was the last thing she wanted him to feel when she was so frustrated she could scream.
“Meet me in the gym in fifteen minutes.” He pulled away and walked off, only pausing long enough to toss a parting shot over his shoulders. “You might want to change as I don’t intend to go easy on you.”
The jerk. She ought to wear the bikini. It would serve him right. So what if she broke her neck while trying to run in her heels? Maybe she could use the spindly spikes as a deadly weapon and deflate that ego of his.
She watched until he disappeared up the stairs before making the climb herself.
He wanted her. She could see it in his eyes, in the way his breathing sped up when she got close.
Was it because of their enforced proximity? Or because of the forbidden nature of their attraction?
She didn’t know. All she was sure of was that she wanted Rob more than she’d ever wanted any man and she couldn’t have him. She really needed to stay away from him before she got in over her head.
But she knew she wouldn’t stay away. How could she? He’d agreed to play her in a game of one-on-one.
She smiled in anticipation of what the night might bring.
Maybe she could convince him to play K-I-S-S.
Chapter Six
“Hey, boss, you need to come see this,” one of the crew working at the computer station called to JP as he stepped into the makeshift studio.
JP rubbed his neck, cursing the ache in his bones. Growing older was hell. And he needed a smoke something fierce.
“Catching something good on film?” he asked as he slid into Rob’s leather seat. Crazy boy carted the worn chair everywhere he filmed. Said sitting in it got his juices flowing. Ask JP and he’d say that’s what a willing woman was for.
Still, he had been the one to give the chair to Rob. That had been on the day he’d convinced the film production company he currently worked for to give a prodigy kid actor a chance to direct his own production. Of course, he’d had to agree to supervise the whole damn thing, but JP had never regretted the decision.
Rob Lancaster was the son he couldn’t have thanks to a case of the mumps during his teenage years. With the ability to put a man on the moon, you’d think modern medicine would be able to prevent things like mumps and arthritis pain.
Settling back into the chair, he glanced at the screen for the first time. He’d just come in from shooting the pool scene so he expected to see footage of the bachelors still at the pool or Jane with one of the bachelors, maybe in a clutch embrace. Probably #6, Steve Jernigan or #10, Jeff Kensington as she seemed to have taken a liking to those two.
“Holy mother,” he cursed as his eyes took in the couple squaring off against one another in the foyer.
Jane’s eyes flashed green fire that matched her bathing suit to perfection. Hands on hips, she glared at Rob. Rob didn’t look too happy, either. Actually, he looked like a tortured man.
“How long has this been going on?”
“About thirty seconds after you walked through the foyer, Rob did. I think he was waiting for her. They’ve really been going at one another, but I can’t pick up on most of what they’re saying.”
JP leaned back in his chair, regarding the screen. What was Rob up to? He’d seen how the boy looked at her, but Rob was a professional and was never led around by his trousers. At least, he never had been before.
“What did she just say?”
“I think she just threatened to kick his ass.” Barely contained amusement laced the man’s words.
Yeah, JP might think it funny too if one film company after another hadn’t told him he was a has-been in the business and needed to retire. Until WOLF network came through with this reality show gig, he’d been labeled as washed up. He planned to prove every critic wrong.
JANE MILLIONAIRE’s success decided too much of his future for him to risk letting things go awry because Rob got an itch in his shorts.
“They’re going to play a game of one-on-one, Sir.”
JP’s brow shot up. Rob was going to play Jane in basketball? Didn’t he know too much rode on this show for him to be dallying with her? He’d kick the boy’s hind-end himself if he went for a K-I-S-S.
Rob’s angst-ridden gaze ran over Jane’s barely covered body. JP grinned in spite of the seriousness of the situation. He could understand Rob’s fascination. Jane was a great gal and a real looker.
For that matter, Jane seemed quite captivated by the man she currently pitted off against. Much more so than any of the bachelors. Too bad, she was the star of Jane Millionaire. She’d have made a great match for Rob and might have been the one to get him past the deep wounds dug by Mandy’s repeated betrayals.
JP pulled a cigar from his pocket and chewed on the end, wishing he could light it and inhale its calming flavor.
He had no choice. He’d have to make sure whatever sparks were flying between them died a quick death by any means necessary.
Besides as Jane Millionaire, Jane was the last woman Rob needed to be hooking up with. The boy avoided the media like the plague. When Jane returned to the U.S., she’d be a damn magnet.
“Make sure all the cameras in the gym are on. Rob will erase the main camera as that’s the one he’ll expect to have been recording continuously. I want their game recorded on the other three as well. Save all the footage and bring it to me.”
“Sir?”
“No one.” He stared at the curious man. “Including Rob, is to know about this. Not a word. Understand?”
The man nodded. “Yes, sir, Mr. Scott. I’ll bring the tape to you as soon as I’m finished recording.”
JP steepled his hands, and regarded the man thoughtfully. “Excellent.”
# # #
Idiot, Rob chided himself. What had he been thinking to take up her offer? That might be the problem--he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been staring at her sassy lips, wanting to kiss the challenge from their fullness, wanting to run his hands over the toned flesh she had on display.
The woman was a walking advertisement for fitness equipment, and he’d challenged her to a game of basketball. Why? Because he’d dreamed of playing her? Of claiming the prize none of the bumbling bachelors had been man enough to take?
His midsection hardened. He didn’t have time to take a cold shower and, blast it all, he’d already taken more cold showers in the past week than any grown man should. Two today. Not that the one following his brush off of her in the exercise room had helped. Her hot, whispered words haunted his libido like a ghost on Halloween night.
I want you to kiss me.
Aw hell.
He was in trouble.
# # #
Rob managed to get his rebellious response under control without a cold shower--until he stepped into the gym and saw Jane in hip-hugging shorts and a tight T-shirt. He groaned and imagined being dunked into ice water, being back on the rough streets he’d grown up on, being married to Mandy again.
The last one worked.
His spine straightened and his resolve renewed.
“Practicing?” he called out.
“You know what they say.” She turned, grinned, then tossed the ball into the air without looking at the goal. “Practice does make perfect.”
The resounding swoosh of the ball passing through the net mocked him as he walked onto the gym floor.
“Are you sure you aren’t too tired to play?” he asked, knowing she’d had a full day, and it was close to midnight.
“Afraid you might lose?” she taunted, looking way too bright and cheery as she rebounded the ball.
“Not in this lifetime. I didn’t want you to cry that you lost because you were wiped-out.”
“I’m a big girl. You let me worry about whether or not I’m too tired.”
She sure didn’t look like she’d been on the go the entire day. She looked energetic and sexy in her shorts, shirt and swept-up-in-a-ponytail hair. How had she gone from swimsuit model to sports jock in the fifteen minutes since he’d last seen her?
“My stamina would amaze you.”
He almost tripped over his size twelves at the innocent, yet without a doubt teasing, look she was giving him.
What had happened to the pissed off woman he’d left in the foyer?
He averted his gaze, counted to ten, and asked a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to. “What are we playing?”
Her lips curved. Wickedly.
God, he’d known he’d ticked her off in the exercise room. He’d meant to. Had to. Anything to put some needed distance between them. And in the foyer, what had that been all about? Why had he tried to explain why he hadn’t taken up her enticing offer? She knew all the reasons why a relationship--even if just a physical one--was impossible between them.
Not to mention the ever-present cameras.
He’d rejected her, and now she planned to make him squirm.
Didn’t she realize they were playing with fire and were going to go up in smoke if someone didn’t extinguish the flames?
He swallowed and only managed to further fill his senses with her scent. He could practically taste her feminine sweetness. At least how he imagined she’d taste. Damn, he wanted to know.
“What would you like to play?” Her eyes danced as they traveled over his body. He refused to fidget--cause that was definitely what she wanted. Too bad. Rob Lancaster didn’t bow down to any woman. Not even one as feisty as her.
“H-O-R-S-E?” he suggested, knowing she’d refuse.
She did.
“Twenty points?”
She shook her head.
He knew what she wanted to play.
“I won’t play for your kiss, Jane.” But he did want to feel those plump lips against his.
“Fine.” She shrugged as if it were no big deal, then shot him a sugary sweet smile. “We’ll play for your kiss.”
