by Lori Foster
And now he was going to send her back to Brent, armed with all the seductive knowledge he’d taught her, and he wanted to roar with the injustice of it all. Except he’d gotten exactly what he’d agreed to, and she’d gotten precisely what she’d asked for.
Good God, when had the arrangement gone so emotionally awry?
“I have to go,” he said abruptly. His chest felt tight, and he desperately needed air and space. He had to get the hell out of there.
He turned to leave, but made it only as far as the living room before Leah chased after him. She clutched his arm, giving him no choice but to stop. He caught the hopeful look in her eyes and his heart leapt up into his throat, nearly strangling him.
“Jace…” Her voice trailed off, but there was no mistaking the uncertainty in her tone, as if she were afraid to speak what was truly on her mind.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice rough and gravely like never before.
“I…”
He held his breath, waiting, a part of him praying for the impossible.
“Thank you,” she finally said instead, and followed that up with what appeared to be a forced, and very brave, smile. “For everything.”
“You’re welcome…for everything,” he replied, and gently kissed her temple one last time before heading out the door.
JACE GAVE the wrench another forceful push and ended up stripping the bolt, causing his knuckles to scrape along the edge of the exhaust manifold.
“Shit,” he cursed, and tossed the tool onto the bench with a loud clatter. He glanced down at his hand and winced at the two knuckles he’d skinned, now bleeding. Stalking to the first-aid kit on the wall next to the back sink, he opened it and withdrew the medicinal aids he needed to disinfect the cuts.
After leaving Leah’s several hours ago, he’d come directly to his shop to do more engine repairs on his Camaro. Normally, working on cars proved soothing to him, a way to calm his nerves when he was feeling uptight, but nothing could shake the agitation riding him hard.
No matter what he did, Jace couldn’t keep his mind off Leah. Couldn’t stop thinking about her going back to Brent, accepting his proposal, and doing that veil striptease for him—a preppy executive who didn’t seem to appreciate Leah for the woman she was. And, mostly, he couldn’t stop berating himself for being such an idiot and walking out on her earlier. He’d left because of the promise he’d made before their weekend together, and because he believed it was the right thing to do.
He wasn’t so sure anymore.
Taking out the small bottle of antiseptic, he clenched his jaw as he scrubbed his wounds with the astringent, wondering when he, someone who’d always been a fighter, had become such a coward. He was so hung up on the fact that Leah deserved better than a kid who’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, a mechanic who spent his days elbow-deep in grease, that he couldn’t get past the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she’d take him, as is…. Yet he’d done nothing, absolutely nothing, to sway her to take a chance on him.
His heart thudded hard in his chest as he cast a quick glance around his private garage, seeing all that he’d accomplished over the years, and realized that he was the one with the hang-ups. And that meant he was going to have to step up to the plate and get over the insecurities he’d lived with since childhood. He might not be some fancy-schmancy executive, but he owned his own business and supported himself with plenty left over. It was about damn time he had more faith in himself, and if there was going to be a man in Leah’s life, it was going to be him.
Because that man certainly wasn’t Brent.
He patched up his knuckles with a few Band-Aids, now mentally prepared to fight for Leah, and to hell with the consequences he might have to suffer with her family and her brother—his best friend. He’d deal with them later, and make sure they knew he’d never, ever hurt Leah. That she was incredibly precious to him, and he’d do whatever it took to make her happy.
But first, he had to stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life—and his. As he locked up the shop, he prayed he wasn’t too late.
IT WAS OVER with Brent, and Leah was more relieved than she’d ever thought possible. She was also grateful that he’d taken the breakup so well, but his lack of anger or hurt feelings just reinforced the fact that he hadn’t had a whole lot invested in their relationship—emotionally or physically.
Yes, he’d been disappointed, but he’d wished her well and seemed to mean it. The whole encounter had been disturbing because she’d seen so clearly that she would have been nothing more than a convenient wife and social hostess for him had she accepted his proposal. Ending their relationship had, undoubtedly, been the right thing to do.
And she had Jace to thank for that. For making her realize she didn’t have to settle for less than the real thing. Now, as she stared at her reflection in her dresser mirror, scantily clad in a sexy bra and panties and sheer, colorful scarves, she was a nervous wreck. More so than she’d been breaking off her relationship with Brent. Her stomach was in knots, her heart was a tangled mess. So much was riding on this, because she intended to seduce Jace back into her life on a permanent basis. He’d been the one to teach her all about the power and sensuality of being a woman, and it was only fitting that she return the favor by showing him what an avid student she’d been—by performing the Dance of the Seven Veils for his eyes only.
Tonight, she’d not only give him her body, but her heart and soul, as well.
A knock on the door startled her, since she wasn’t expecting company. She quickly grabbed a knee-length coat from the coat closet to cover her skimpy, barely-there outfit, and tightened the sash. One quick glance through the peephole revealed Jace standing on the other side of the threshold.
Surprised by his unexpected visit, she opened the door, taking in his fierce expression. His thick hair was mussed as though he’d repeatedly finger-combed it. Restless energy seemed to radiate off him.
“Jace,” she said breathlessly, and with more than a little uncertainty. “I was just coming to see you.”
“Good, then I saved you a trip,” he replied, all dominant male, and moved past her to enter without an invitation. As if she’d ever deny him entrance into any part of her life.
“You certainly did.” Closing the door, she leaned against the hard slab of wood, trying like mad to figure out why he’d returned and failing to come up with any answer that made sense.
So, she asked outright. “What are you doing here?”
He jammed his hands on his lean hips, his stance uncompromising. “You can’t marry Brent.”
His order was the last thing she’d expected to hear pop out of his mouth, but his possessive demand made her feel giddy and kicked up her pulse an optimistic notch. But before she relieved Jace of his mistaken assumption, she needed to hear the reasons behind his adamant request.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted you, and after this weekend, I can’t let you go off and marry another man, especially one who doesn’t appreciate you in all the ways that matter.”
Her breath caught and held in her throat, cutting off her ability to speak. But he seemed to have plenty to say, so she remained where she was against the door and just listened.
“I’ve been running from any kind of emotional commitment since I was a kid, first because of my father’s abandonment, then my mother’s rejection, and I just didn’t believe I had what it took to give to another person in that way. It was so much easier, and simpler, to remain single and alone than to let anyone close.” He took a step toward her, closing the distance separating them, filling the air she breathed with the intoxicating scent of orange. “Except you always had a way of being there for me,” he murmured gently, “even when I didn’t realize how much I needed you in my life.”
She melted inside, his words touching her deeply, profoundly. “That’s what a friend is for.”
“Yes, you’re a friend, but you’ve al
ways tempted me, Leah, and I’ve fought my attraction to you for years.”
Her eyes widened. “You have?”
“More than you’ll ever know.” Bracing an arm on the door behind her, he lowered his head and skimmed his lips along her throat, making her shiver from the delicious, intimate contact. “You understand who I am and where I’ve come from, and you accept me for the person I’ve become—you did that even before I did. I want to learn to give in return, to be the kind of man you want and need in your life. Just give me that chance.”
“It’s yours, Jace,” she said huskily, and, framing his face in her hands, she pulled him back so she could look into his eyes. “I’m yours.”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “Then tell Brent no.” His tone was ragged, desperate.
She smiled and kissed his lips. “I already have. I had doubts before our weekend together, but after being with you, I knew I couldn’t marry Brent.”
He shuddered, his relief palpable. “Thank God.” Then another round of doubts darkened his gaze. “Your family has been so good to me, and I don’t want to disappoint your parents or your brother by getting involved with you.”
“Oh, Jace…disappointing them is impossible. They love you as much as I do, and you’re already a part of the family.”
He reared back, caught her under the chin with his fingers, and stared deeply into her eyes, watching her face carefully. “You love me?”
She nodded jerkily, her heart swelling with the emotion. “For longer than I can remember.”
“I love you, too,” he said and flashed her a dimpled grin as he tugged on the ties of her coat, loosening them. “And I think we’ve wasted way too much time being friends, and have a helluva lot of loving to make up for.”
Desire rippled through her, warm and exciting. “I couldn’t agree with you more.” Cool air washed over Leah’s bare skin as he opened the lapels of her coat and pushed them wide apart.
He gaped at the sheer outfit she wore, and his brows snapped into a protective frown. “Jesus, Leah, where in the hell were you going dressed like this?”
“To see you. To dance and strip for you. To be your every fantasy. To tempt you to enjoy an invitation to seduction and put to good use everything you’ve taught me this weekend.” Grabbing his hand, she led him into the living room and pushed him down onto the easy chair, then she dimmed the lights and switched on the stereo, which still held the Enya CD. “But since you came to me, I’ll just have to improvise.”
The soft strains of music filled the room, and she let the sensual beat infuse her mind and soul and stimulate the confidence Jace had instilled in her. Then, to an avid audience of one, she began moving slowly, gyrating gracefully, her body picking up on the evocative rhythm and making it her own.
As she lost herself in the music and the hot look in Jace’s eyes as he watched her, she pulled away one of the scarves she’d tucked into her lacy bra and let it flow over her curves, across her belly, and along her thighs before dropping the silky fabric to the floor at her feet. Then she started the process again, gracefully twisting and turning—methodically, temptingly, stripping away the veils and creating an aura of sexual excitement with each scarf she removed.
She shimmied out of her bra and panties too, and smiled as he tugged off his shirt and skinned out of his jeans so he was just as naked as she was. His need for her was visible, and she went to him without hesitation. She straddled his hips and sank down on his shaft, taking him all the way. They moaned simultaneously, letting the pleasure of the moment gradually, leisurely sweep them away. Wonderful minutes later, Leah slumped against Jace’s chest and rested her cheek against his shoulder, replete and happy, their heartbeats mingling.
“That was nice,” Jace murmured as he caressed a hand along her spine, holding her close. “Very nice. I taught you well.”
She laughed. “Yes, you did.”
His fingers slid into the hair at the nape of her neck and gently drew her head back so that she was looking into his eyes, which had grown serious and searching.
“What is it?” she asked.
He exhaled a deep breath. “Being friends and all, I think we know just about everything we could possibly know about each other, don’t you?”
She thought about all the years between them. “Pretty close, but I’m sure there’re a few surprises that will crop up along the way.” She grinned. “Luckily, I like surprises.”
“Me, too.” And then he gave her the biggest surprise of all. “Marry me, Leah. I love you and I swear I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. And I want babies with you, a family—”
She covered his mouth with her hand to cut off his rambling so she could get a word in edgewise. “Yes, Jace,” she said, amazed at how an erotic invitation had changed the course of her future and had given her her heart’s desire. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
And as he kissed her again, long and slow and deep, Leah knew their lessons weren’t over, that they’d only just begun. She was certain it was going to take a lifetime for them to teach one another all the pleasures of satisfying one another…in bed, in life and in love. And she was more than up for the adventure.
PLAYMATES
Crystal Green
To Lulu and Scott Shields.
Thanks for your knowledge, guidance
and love of a good time!
Chapter One
WHEN SEAN MCINTYRE first saw her, his sex drive let out an endless, shuddering wolf whistle. One that would’ve brought down the high-rise building if Los Angeles hadn’t been so strict about fortifying the place against occasional earthquakes.
Or another natural disaster trigger, like his new co-worker.
He settled back in his leather office chair, just taking in the show, a grin easing over his mouth as she leaned against the door frame. All long legs, curves and catnip.
Dark gypsy hair waved softly past her shoulders, matching the black smoke of her eyes. She aimed a lowered gaze at him, the tips of her red lips swooping upward in a gesture more suited to a wet dream than the business offices of Stellar Public Relations, Incorporated.
Sean raised an eyebrow, amused. Intrigued.
But, as usual, Louis Martin screwed up the moment, bursting past the woman in a flutter of kinetic overload.
“There she is. Didn’t know where you disappeared to,” said the short, balding boss man. “One second I’m giving you the tour, the next you’re…”
The woman interrupted him with one sultry glance. Louis almost fell backward from the force of it.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice as thick and slow as honey dripping from a fingertip. She nodded toward the window while returning her gaze to Sean. “I prefer the view in this office.”
He bit back a laugh. Cheeky. Already he liked her. Already he wanted to peel off that slightly see-through, butterfly-sleeved red suit that pushed the limits of professional wear. Sharp, flashy, powerful. All the things a PR representative should be.
And then some.
Louis fidgeted with his tie. “The view. Right. Your office’ll be down the hall, though.”
Time to open his mouth, Sean supposed. “This is my lion’s den. Not fit for a lady.”
“No wonder I feel right at home.” She flashed him that cool/hot gaze again.
Sean shifted. Nice. A thirty-two-year-old schoolboy with a hard-on. Should he grab a textbook and hide behind it while he got to his feet to shake hands? No English Lit or Trig tomes available, you say? Then maybe he could just stay seated and zoom his wheeled office chair on over to her, introducing himself as half the cad he actually was.
That’s right. A gentleman would stand up, take a woman’s hand, pay her proper respect. But gentlemen probably refrained from popping wood the second a beautiful female came within range.
He flicked a manila folder off the desk to his lap—the better to fool you with, my dear—and performed the chair slide.
But his cautious move didn’t throw her off, not if th
at knowing gleam in her eyes was any indication.
What the hell, thought Sean. He grinned as he stood, flipping aside the folder, extending his hand. “Sean McIntyre.”
The woman perused his outstretched palm, her gaze slipping to the front of his pants, her mouth still heated by that lazy grin. She knew he was turned on. Not that it made her a genius.
She tucked her fingers into his hand, sliding a nail along his thumb in a wickedly disguised shake. “Fiona Cruz. Pleased to meet you.”
Cruz. The name rang an alarm. He’d heard of her successes as a marketing machine for actors. She was good. Damned good. But hadn’t there been some hint of scandal surrounding her…?
Time seemed to furl around itself as their skin pulsed with the contact, touches languishing, almost as if both of them wanted to see who would let go first.
Louis’s voice sawed apart their grip, but not their sustained eye contact.
“We brought on Fiona because she’s gangbusters.”
Sean coolly acknowledged the weasel’s remark. This introduction was Louis’s way of turning on the burner under Sean’s chair, wasn’t it?
“Got that covered, Martie,” he said, knowing the nickname would piss off the other guy.
The boss man’s cheeks reddened. “It’s Louis. As in Martin.”
Fiona Cruz had started to wander around Sean’s office, trailing her hand over the rigid, metal bookshelves, the writhing steel sculpture in the corner. A flame in the center of a frozen twist of furniture.
He couldn’t help admiring her beautiful ass, wanting to cup the curves of it, rocking her against his groin, feeling every voluptuous inch of her opening for him….
“McIntyre?”
Louis again.
“What?”
“Fiona’s brought her rising star with her to the firm. Lincoln Castle.”
Sean blanched. “The soap star? That Lincoln Castle?”
As Fiona stopped by the window, which overlooked Wilshire Boulevard with its palm trees and summer-in-the-city streets, she tossed her words over a shoulder. “There’s only one man with a name that…singular.”
