by Janice Lynn
“We finished the last group of bachelors.” He never looked away from Jane.
“How did it go?” she asked, gazing intently at him with her big green eyes, although she didn’t bestow a smile on him. Not even a tiny one.
Damn, he wanted a smile. Her smile. Just for him. Insane as the desire was since her interest only complicated matters more.
But he was beyond caring. He’d already decided he’d gone irrational with longing. She’d worn him down, made him insane with her kiss.
He wanted a smile. That wasn’t too much to ask for, surely?
“As expected, the kids gave them hell. You’ll get to watch the videos later tonight.”
“With you?” Her bright eyes took on a hungry appearance. Hungry was good. No. Hungry was not good. That was why he’d avoided her as much as he possibly could--cause he was starving, and she was banned from the menu.
“Actually, I’ll be taking care of that,” JP interrupted. “Rob has other plans for tonight.”
“I do?” he grunted, then realized JP was giving him an easy out. Just like he’d been doing since that garden kiss. Damn it.
Not that he could satisfy his hunger anyway. He was doomed to starve. A healthy, grown man shouldn’t be forced to starve, not in this day and age.
“Oh, yeah. I do.”
He did have a hundred things that needed done and feasting on Jane’s delectable body wasn’t on the menu.
Chapter Eleven
Later that night, a supposedly ready for bed Jill paced across the elaborately woven rug that covered the polished marble floor of her suite.
Lost in thought, she picked up a porcelain vase, ran her finger across the ornate hand-painted surface, and set it back on the intricately carved wooden table.
She couldn’t take much more. Knowing Rob was so close and yet so removed from her. Yet also knowing staying far away was the smartest, safest thing she could do.
A little over two weeks remained.
Two weeks and she’d have to choose one of the dwindling dirty dozen. Striding back across the room with nervous energy, she rubbed her arms when she stepped off the rug and her bare feet touched the cold marble floor.
Two weeks, then her romantic week in paradise.
Once her pretend honeymoon was finished she’d never see Rob again.
And that was just if one of the bachelors chose her over the money. It was highly likely that she only had two weeks left with Rob.
An invisible vice squeezed her heart.
A month from now when she was far away from this castle set in a fairy land of rolling green hills and men clamoring for her attention, what would be her most cherished memory when she looked back on her Jane Millionaire adventures? Her biggest regret?
Without a doubt, Rob Lancaster would star in both.
His kiss in the garden ranked as her most treasured moment. Not kissing him again her biggest regret. Her gaze landed on the solid wood door connecting their rooms.
Rob was less than twenty feet away, but more than a locked door separated them.
What would he do if she knocked on that door and kissed him? Told him she wanted to know what it felt like to make love to him? Would he turn her away? Or would he give in to the passion she’d seen in his eyes?
Darn it. If Jessie were here, she’d put on a naughty nightie and seduce him senseless. Jessie had never had any qualms about going after a man she wanted.
So why didn’t she?
She was supposed to be Jessie, after all. But her supplied wardrobe didn’t carry any outrageously sexy lingerie, and even if it did, she doubted she’d wear it. Because even though Rob wanted her, he would more than likely send her to her room a very disappointed woman.
But what if he didn’t? What if she floated to her room a very satisfied woman? She’d never know if she didn’t knock.
Of all the things she’d ever been called, a coward wasn’t one of them.
She walked to an antique dresser, ran a pearl-backed brush through her highlighted hair until it shined, and stared in the mirror at her make-up free face. What would Rob see when he opened the door?
A pretend princess who was really a policewoman jock? A Hollywood starlit looking for her road to fame?
Heck, at this moment, she was none of those things. She was a woman so caught up in one man’s spell that she knew if she didn’t act on her feelings, she’d wonder ‘what if’ for the rest of her life?
Before all the reasons why she shouldn’t go to his room popped into her head, she dropped her brush onto the silver tray. The loud clang reverberated straight through her. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the room, heedless of identity crises and contracts and fraud and every other reason why she should crawl into her own bed and forget about Rob.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Nothing.
“Rob?” Could he hear her? Was he even in his room? She glanced at her watch. Only a little past eleven. He was there.
“Are you awake?”
# # #
On the other side of the door, Rob looked up from his computer monitor where he edited a scene in a planned episode of GAMBLER and cursed.
A quick glance at his watch told him Jane should be asleep. Why wasn’t she?
He ran his hand over his face and sighed. He’d done a great job avoiding her. Much better than he’d expected. Of course, JP had played interference on the occasions when he and Jane had to be in the same room, always providing a buffer between them. Recall of his jealousy when he’d spotted JP and Jane on the sofa made him cringe. Where was JP now? He had a feeling he was going to need interference.
“Rob? I know you’re in there. Open up,” she called, knocking louder than before.
Lots and lots of interference. Truckloads of interference.
“Go to sleep, Jane.” He rubbed his hand across suddenly tired eyes. Would she listen? He doubted it. One thing he’d learned watching all the footage of her was that she wasn’t afraid to face a situation head on. Normally, he liked that about a woman, but not when the attraction between him and an off-limits woman comprised the situation.
He supposed it was possible her knocking on his door late at night had nothing to do with personal reasons. But somehow he doubted it.
“If you don’t open, I’ll go to the other door, and I’ll keep knocking until you do. Even if I wake every last man in this castle.”
Damn. She would and the camera in her room was recording everything she said. Had she forgotten or was she purposely raising the stakes of his trying to ignore her?
He saved his work and walked to the door. Too bad he didn’t have a safety chain. Safety would be good about now.
“You rang?” he asked as the door squeaked open.
“We need to talk.” She barged into his room with a gust of rose-scented air.
“About?” His hand still on the knob, he stood at the door. If he left it open would that give her the hint not to stay long? Or maybe an open door would let the whiff of flowers drift right back where it had come from? He wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink if her fragrance lingered in his room.
“Anything. I just need to talk to you.”
“Huh?” Maybe he should open the door leading into the main hallway as well. The more fresh un-Jane-contaminated air, the better.
“There aren’t any cameras in here are there?” She looked around suspiciously.
“Hell no.” Why would there be cameras in his room?
“Good.” She faced him, pinning him with her gaze. “You’re avoiding me.”
Head-on. No holds bar. That was Jane. Her eyes sparkled with hurt, longing, desire. Her long hair caught the light from his lamp and shined like a halo around her beautiful face. Had she just brushed it? His gaze traveled lower over her emerald silk gown that closely matched the color of her eyes. Gold buttons ran down the front. Strings held the gown up over her pert breasts and lithe body. Her nipples pebbled against the material, torturing him.
“It’s in our best inter
ests for me to keep avoiding you.” Had that hoarse croak been him?
She stepped closer. The scent of roses grew stronger. How did she always manage to smell like a rose garden? He backed up, bumping into the ornate wood door that separated their suites, knocking it shut. Not good. Now he was trapped in her intoxicating fragrance.
Where was JP? Interference was needed. Quick.
“Don’t you tell me what’s in my best interest, Rob Lancaster. You have no idea.” Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glowed.
God, she was beautiful.
And dangerous to his resolve.
Not to mention what she was doing to his rising libido.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Another croak. Worse than before. He sounded like a damn frog. Or a boy just hitting puberty. Pathetic. And his rising libido had just gone literal.
“I know, but I couldn’t stay away. I feel like I’ve waited too long already. I keep thinking about wondering for years to come what it would have been like. What we would have been like.” She took another step. “I’m not willing to go through life without knowing. Are you?”
He resisted his urge to inhale deeply. To do so might allow roses to overpower what little good judgment he still had with her looking like something straight from a lingerie catalog. A really, really sexy lingerie catalog.
“A relationship between us can’t happen, and even if it could, I don’t do relationships. I’m a one night stand kind of man.” He didn’t want to think about the rest of his life. Hell, just managing the next few weeks without knowing how it felt to be inside her was almost more than he could deal with--especially with her tempting him like Eve’s apple being wagged in front of a starving Adam day after day. JP, where are you?
“Fine.” She shrugged a bare shoulder. “I want one night.”
Oh hell! He hadn’t seen that one coming.
Or had he?
“Jane,” he began, sifting through his brain for whatever reason he could find to order her out of his room. There were too many to choose from yet not a single one left his mouth. All he could think was maybe one nibble would satisfy his hunger. One little nibble. What could it hurt?
She closed the gap between them. “If one night is all I can have, I want my night. Now. Tonight. With you. No more waiting.”
Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he had the sensation of rose petals raining upon him, beating his power to resist down to almost nothing.
Power to resist? What power to resist?
“It’ll ruin everything.” He stared into her eyes and wanted her more than any man had ever wanted a woman. He knew he wanted her that much.
“How?” Her lips inched closer to his.
Just one little nibble…
“The show,” he half-heartedly muttered. “Us becoming involved could ruin everything we’ve worked to achieve with JANE MILLIONAIRE. You know that as well as I do.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Tomorrow? When the sun comes up and you’re faced with the harsh truth that one night is really all we had? What then?” He held himself rigid, knowing if he dared move, it would be to possess her, body and soul, and to hell with the rest of the world.
“One night. You and me. Your man to my woman. Tomorrow we’ll go back to playing our roles and pretend like tonight never happened.”
Hope glimmered. Irrational as it was. Irrational as he was. If Jane meant her words, maybe they could have tonight. If he got his fill of her ripe body, she wouldn’t monopolize his every thought. He wouldn’t question his empty house and emptier life. If he could get over his obsession with her, life would be better, right?
“You’ll choose one of the bachelors and go on the honeymoon?” Her offer seemed like manna from heaven. What was that old saying about offers too good to be true?
“Tonight changes nothing regarding my role in JANE MILLIONAIRE,” she whispered the words he desperately wanted to hear. “I’ll fulfill the terms of the contract. Whether or not you make love to me tonight doesn’t affect my obligations to the network.”
Her fingers twined into his hair just like he’d wanted her to do while he watched her with Jeff in the garden. He groaned.
“You’re sure? You have to be sure you can go on as if nothing has happened between us.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Her lips touched his.
All desire to ask questions, to verify that he wasn’t destroying JP’s career, his career, fled. All he could do was feel. Feel the woman against him. Besides, if they made love, they could put this raging fire behind them.
Making love was the best thing they could do for JANE MILLIONAIRE. He was sure of it.
“I want you, Rob,” she breathed. “So much.”
He kissed her. He didn’t have to tell her what he wanted. The undeniable evidence of his desire pressed against her stomach. Her mouth opened, and this time he took what he craved. He plunged into her sweet mouth and tasted mint toothpaste and Jane. A heady combination. But then Jane in any combination added up to a dizzying effect.
He pulled her closer, kissed, and conquered her mouth. Or maybe she was doing the conquering because he was without a doubt captive to her every whim.
Her hands lowered, and she tugged his t-shirt loose from his jeans. Was that moan from her or him? He helped pull his t-shirt off. Damn, were they moving too fast? He briefly wondered. Her palms ran over his bare back, lower until she cupped his jean-covered buttocks. Quivers of need shook him. Not fast enough, he answered his own question. Not nearly fast enough.
They kissed, touched, for how long he didn’t know. Time no longer mattered. Just Jane. When her fingers moved to his jeans snap, he grasped them. “Slow down or I’m going to take you standing right here.”
Her eyes widened, and damn if he didn’t see excitement glittering back at him. She wanted him hard and fast and wild, and he was about to lose it.
“I want to make this good for you,” he somehow managed to grind out, battling his urge to throw every good intention to the wind and possess her with all the intensity coursing through him.
She nodded and didn’t pull her hands free when he loosened his hold. He took a deep breath, counted to ten. Forewards. Backwards. In Spanish. Counting didn’t seem to be helping.
Slow, easy. That’s what she deserved and that’s what he’d give, even if it killed him.
“Tell me what you want.” He bent and kissed beneath her ear lobe, lower, lower still until he caressed her delectable neck.
“I want you.” Her breathing was ragged, but then, so was his.
“How do you like a man to touch you, Jane? Slow and sensuous or hard and demanding?” He ran his fingertips down her neck, lightly grazing her soft skin. She shivered.
“You’re doing just fine on your own.”
He pressed a kiss into the indention at the base of her neck. Her hair brushed his face as she nodded her agreement. The scent of flowers from her shampoo intoxicated him. Was that why she always smelled like roses? From her shampoo? He breathed deeper, needing a stronger fix.
Barely managing to keep his fingers from trembling, he unbuttoned her gown. One golden button at a time. He started at the top and slowly slid each one free, his knuckles grazing over the feminine flesh he revealed. The silk of her gown had nothing over the smoothness of her skin. Soft. Sensuous. Sexy. When he reached the button over her navel, he pushed the material aside and watched as it slid from her shoulders to a silky green puddle around her feet.
Sweet heavens above.
He stepped back to admire the work of art he’d uncovered. A masterpiece. Tan skin turned into milky white globes that he yearned to sample. Starved. What a great description of the ache inside him. His gaze skimmed lower over flat abs to her black silk covered hips. Long, graceful legs stretched on forever to feet covered only by the deep red polish on her toenails.
“You are so damn beautiful.”
“I feel beautiful when you
look at me like that.” Her voice was husky, apparently moved by his admission.
Male pride surged. He planned to show her just how beautiful a woman could feel. How good a woman could feel. With his hands, his mouth, his body. His gaze locked with hers. He cupped her breasts, caressed, stroked, teased each nipple until they strained toward him, until she leaned into him. With a groan, he lowered his head and suckled until she whimpered.
She reached for his snap again, and this time he let her. Let her? He might die if she didn’t touch him soon. He needed her hands on him, around him, stroking him. She shoved his jeans, along with his boxers down, and he kicked the clothes from around his feet.
This time she looked.
Feeling like a schoolboy hoping the homecoming queen would find him worthy of her attention, he stood still as she inspected him. The look in her eyes when they met his told him he measured up to her expectations in every way, surpassed them. He sucked air into his oxygen-deprived body just as his vision started to blur. When had he forgotten to breath?
He reached for her, needing to experience her body next to his. Mouth to mouth. Chest to chest. He rubbed his palms over her until he cupped her tight bottom and ground himself against her. Hips to hips.
Hot madness spread through him. Need strong and swift to pummel her, to pound her until she exploded around him, slammed into him, weakening his knees, weakening him.
“Touch me.” His request bordered on a beggar’s plea.
“Yes.” And she did. Starting at his shoulders, she massaged and kissed her way over his body. Exploring every sinew, every part of him until he thought he might burst from pent-up longings.
But he only had one night. He didn’t want it all to be over with in a frenzied rush. Patience. Slow and easy. He had to keep his cool. Maybe he should try counting again. She touched her hot mouth to his nipple and gently nipped. One…for the life of him he couldn’t remember what came next. No wait he did know. Jane. Jane came next. Over and over. Then he’d come.
He pulled back to stare into her passion-filled eyes. “I’m going to have you, Jane. Tonight. If you aren’t sure, stop me now.”
