He used his best coaxing tone. “When Quinn sent me on this mission, I had reservations, too. But I find you attractive.”
“Oh, that makes everything just fine then.”
“And I adore the way you blush. Women so rarely blush anymore.” Certainly not the experienced women that he normally pursued. At his words, her blush deepened. He raised one eyebrow, bracing for the eruption.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“Go to hell.”
Jason turned around, opened her door, stepped through, then spoke calmly. “See you at dinner.” He went down the stairs whistling.
He didn’t even wince at the sound of the poker striking the door.
AFTER KIMBERLY threw the poker, she wanted to shove her fist through Jason Parker’s face. But he hadn’t stuck around to brave her rage. Oh, no. The coward had departed—whistling no less.
Oh, God. What the hell was she going to do?
Until now, she’d always liked and admired her boss. But to think that Quinn had fixed her up with that…that…gigolo was so embarrassing that Kimberly wanted to scream and pound her fists on the floor like a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.
Of all the nerve. And what hurt the most was that both Quinn and Maggie knew that Kimberly had no one to help her with the love scenes. Nor was she likely to find someone. That’s probably why she’d omitted those scenes from her final version of the story. But Quinn wanted a sexier version and what Quinn wanted, Quinn got. And once the famous producer had decided he wanted Maggie, her friend hadn’t stood a chance of resisting him—although she’d put up quite a fight.
However, Kimberly wasn’t bold in the men department. In fact, she tended to be clumsy due to her nervousness. She recalled spilling her tea on the earl, her latest bumbling act in a lifetime of humiliating moments. Unlike Quinn, who’d been born in L.A. and had cut his teeth among Hollywood’s elite, she came from a small town and tended to be overwhelmed with big-city attitudes. And the anything-goes Hollywood morality often shocked her midwestern sensibilities.
“Oh, my God.” She sank onto the bed, pulled her legs to her chest and rocked. Now that her anger had moved aside and made way for reason, she understood exactly why Quinn and Maggie had sent Jason to her without telling her up front. First, although he was a handsome man who any woman would find attractive and Kimberly certainly wasn’t immune to his uncommon looks, she would have protested out of pride and outrage. Second, as a foreign film consultant, they likely had few friends or associates in common besides Quinn and Maggie. She could spill an entire dinner on him, step all over his feet while dancing, and no one at home would ever know. Third and best of all, after this tour, Kimberly would probably never see him again. Unlike the characters in her screenplay, love needn’t be involved in the scenes she acted out.
This was her chance. If she dared to take it.
Kimberly’s chance to do something wild and crazy with an absolute stranger. A safe stranger—because Quinn knew Jason. Kimberly had never had a better opportunity to have wild, lusty, smutty sex with so little risk of repercussions. So what if Kimberly never picked up strangers? So what if she didn’t do one-night stands? So what if she believed that a man should be her friend before they made love?
Jason was charming, intelligent, sexy, and she’d felt a magnetic pull toward him from the moment they’d met. The mystery of him, the male charisma, the idea of boldly taking what he offered had her wondering if she’d lost her mind.
But this was her shot to break out of her mold as Maggie had done so successfully. Ah, she was so tempted.
She supposed her take on relationship building came from her parents who had had a great marriage. Her mom and dad had been best friends who did everything together. They’d met in high school, attended college together, married and then had worked together for the CIA. They’d died together in a scuba-diving “accident.” She didn’t believe the CIA version, but asking questions wouldn’t have brought them back, so she’d accepted the official story, done her grieving and moved on with her life. But she’d never stopped wondering….
While her parents had been alive, neither of them would ever have considered going on separate vacations. They’d shared the same friends, played doubles tennis on the same team and even loved the same kinds of spicy foods.
Kimberly had just assumed she’d find a relationship like the one her parents had shared—but it hadn’t happened. She’d gotten rid of her virginity during college and been disappointed by both Charlie Phelps and the fact that she’d settled for less than the whole package. She’d tried again two years ago, with Terrence who’d been great in bed, but the lack of shared interests had led to a parting of the ways. He’d liked beer and football. She wanted to talk about books and movies. But at least she’d learned that she wasn’t frigid. In fact, she liked sex. But she was picky. Maybe too picky.
This might be a once-in-forever opportunity. Her chance to let go of practical Kimberly and reach for hot, sweaty, fun that was sure to get her creative juices flowing. Jason Parker might be just the man to turn up the spark in her love scenes as well as in her life.
Jason had super potential. The way he’d asked her those questions in the library to throw off security proved he was clever. And those blue eyes of his fascinated her. So did his amused take on almost every situation.
Kimberly might not be a woman of vast experience but the attraction between them had set off sparks with the promise of combustion. The problem was that she wasn’t even sure she liked the man beyond a physical response.
And she couldn’t quite believe that she was seriously considering him as a sexual partner. Not sensible, practical Kimberly. She wished she could blame her interest in him on her job. But her interest in the man was so much more than a hope he’d stimulate romantic ideas for her script. Maybe it was leaving home soil, maybe Europe was opening her up to the idea of new experiences, or maybe it was simply that after watching Maggie find happiness, she wanted to go after that kind of happiness herself. Whatever the reason, Jason Parker excited her, intrigued her.
Walking over to the dresser, she stared at the business card. Her parents had often used fake cards on their secret missions. For twenty dollars anyone could give the impression they were something they were not. She would check out his story and go from there. How far she would go, not even she knew.
She dialed the phone and a secretary answered, “British Consulting, Limited.”
“Jason Parker, please.”
“He’s currently on assignment. Would you like to leave a message?”
“This is Kimberly Hayward, Quinn Scott’s production assistant. Can you tell me if Jason Parker is working for Simitar Studios?”
“Yes, he is.”
So he’d been telling the truth. With a thank-you and a shaking hand, Kimberly put the phone back in the cradle.
The idea of taking Jason up on his offer appealed to her on levels she didn’t want to examine too closely. This was her chance. A gamble of a lifetime. Hollywood was all about taking gambles. Kimberly didn’t want to sell just one script, she wanted a career. She wanted to write and direct. To achieve her goal, she’d left her family and friends behind, gambled that she could begin a new life and she’d succeeded up to a point. Was it time to throw caution to the winds once again?
She wanted to do just that. Which was exactly why she would make herself think through her actions. Although she now realized that her heart had never been involved in her past relationships, each time she’d believed she’d been in love. Instead, she’d been in love with the idea of being in love.
Lately, Kimberly had begun to wonder if the capacity to get that giddy feeling that other women seemed to feel about men wasn’t in her. She’d never had that special awareness of a man. Never waited anxiously by the phone hoping it would ring. But maybe she just hadn’t found the right guy.
She had no deep internal scars that prevented her from falling in love. Barring the scuba-diving “accident�
� that had claimed her parents’ lives two weeks after she’d graduated from high school, her family background was as close to ideal as it could be. When she’d been little, her parents had taken her with them on several missions. When she’d been older, they sometimes had to leave her behind with her aunt, but never for long. She’d suffered no childhood traumas. Her parents had loved her.
So why hadn’t she ever fallen in love? At age twenty-six, she had to look internally for the reasons. Was she looking for perfection? For a soul mate who didn’t exist?
She wouldn’t jump into bed with a man unless she’d considered all the angles—one of which had to be getting to know the man better. She didn’t know anything about Jason, but he’d certainly grabbed her attention. She couldn’t stop thinking about his hard body pressed up against hers. Or how he’d threatened to kiss her into being quiet. She shivered at the memory of his statement about tying her with drapery cords, but she wasn’t too worried. He might have manhandled her. He might have partially undressed her without her permission or her noticing. But she didn’t have so much as a bruise—except on her pride which still couldn’t quite admit that she’d reacted to him on a primitive level that made her consider primping for dinner.
She wanted him. She ached to take a chance. Throw the dice and gamble.
Still, if she wanted to take Jason Parker up on his offer, her first priority had to be getting to know the man better. Dinner would be a fine starting place. And would commit her to absolutely nothing.
KIMBERLY WORE her favorite pair of jeans and an off-the-shoulder, black top to dinner. She never wore a bra with this particular top since the wide neck kept slipping to reveal one bared shoulder. And Kimberly didn’t need a bra. One of the advantages of being small on top was that she had the option of wearing lingerie or not, without anyone else being the wiser.
Her only concession to seeing Jason at dinner was that she’d brushed her hair until it shone, then tied it back before applying a little powder, mascara and lip gloss. Pleased that she looked good, but still casual, she joined the other members of the tour group in the hotel dining room promptly at seven.
As if by design, Jason Parker entered the dining room at the exact same moment she did. He wore khaki slacks and a pinstriped navy-and-white shirt that did scrumptious things to set off his shoulders. His eyes found hers, his expression wary as if wondering what kind of mood he’d find her in.
But she no longer felt like throwing things at his head. Instead she wanted to know more about what was going on inside it. Until now she’d never thought to ask him why he’d agreed to Quinn’s request—something she really needed to know. But that question would have to be saved for a more private moment.
“Hi.” She nodded politely, unwilling to let him know that she might be considering his offer.
“Good evening.” Jason held out her chair for her and she took one of the last two seats at the round table set for nine. The room of polished woods and white linens could seat at least fifty people but the atmosphere was homey. The enticing scent of fresh baked scones and garlic butter made Kimberly’s mouth water. Although she’d tried English tea she didn’t like it as much as the full English breakfast of ham, eggs, sausages and more. Trying new foods intrigued her as much as did touring the quaint little waterfront towns and exploring the seaside.
Jason had already met Liam Short, their tour guide. Kimberly introduced him to two couples, the Jamisons: a history professor and his trophy wife, Trixie, from Phoenix, and the Barrs from Maine: a-down-to-earth couple on tour to celebrate their twentieth wedding anniversary. The other two singles were Alex Taylor, a certifiable surfer dude, and Caroline Morrison, a college coed who kept to herself and didn’t speak often to anyone.
“We went to Eden today,” Professor Jamison told them about the largest tourist attraction in southeastern England where huge domes displayed indoor greenhouses with plants from the Mediterranean, Africa and the tropics. “They have five domed areas, each climate-controlled with its own weather system.”
“The flowers were beautiful.” Trixie Jamison checked her lipstick in a compact, then snapped it shut. She didn’t quite interrupt her husband, but she seemed well aware that the professor would pontificate on his chosen subject if allowed to continue.
“We took a boat up the coast,” volunteered Mr. Barr who’d told Kimberly that he was a third-generation fisherman. Mr. Barr had a weather-beaten face but kindly crinkles at the corners of brown eyes that he turned lovingly on his wife. His wife beamed at him through thick glasses and every so often, she patted her husband’s hand.
As the group chattered about their day, Kimberly stole glances at Jason Parker.
Kimberly didn’t say much. She preferred to listen and to watch and wonder if she could really make love with him. She found him attractive and charming when he wasn’t holding her against a wall or pinned to a mattress. When she almost knocked over her glass of white wine, Jason’s quick reflexes saved her from spilling more than a few drops. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“And how did your library research turn out, dear?” asked Mrs. Barr, who seemed interested in everyone and had a curiosity that had her asking their guide almost as many questions as Kimberly. Since Jason was new to their group, she added, “Kimberly is researching a script for Simitar Studios. We have a celebrity in our mix.”
“I’m no celebrity,” Kimberly told them. “I haven’t even made my first sale yet.”
“But you will,” Professor Jamison said. “She has an in, since she works for the studio. And everyone knows that the people in L.A. are a club that doesn’t allow outsiders.”
Kimberly didn’t bother to explain that she’d worked for an entire year before Quinn had consented even to read her work—and that was only because Maggie had nagged him into it. And she still wouldn’t ever see her script made into a movie unless she wrote those love scenes.
“You sound as though you speak from experience,” Jason commented.
“Oh, don’t mind the professor,” Trixie delicately touched her napkin to her lips, careful not to smudge her makeup. “He reads everything. Four newspapers every morning. And dozens of magazines every month.”
Mrs. Barr buttered her dinner roll. “Tell us about yourself, Mr. Parker—”
“Call me Jason.”
“Well, Jason, where do you hail from and what do you do for a living?”
Yes. Tell us, Jason Parker. Kimberly couldn’t believe she knew so little about a man that she was considering going to bed with. Of course, she was no way close to making up her mind, but how could she not think about it after their outrageous conversation?
“I’m originally from Boston, but I haven’t lived there in years. My work takes me all over the globe. I’m a movie consultant.”
The professor spoke between softly slurping spoonfuls of his shrimp bisque. “What a coincidence that you both work in the movie business.”
“It’s no coincidence at all,” Jason answered easily. “I’m here to offer Kimberly technical assistance.”
“Technical assistance?”
“My specialty is breaking and entering,” Jason went on to speak with expertise about The Heist.
To Kimberly’s ears, Jason sounded smooth and too charming, almost phony. But no one else at the table appeared the least bit suspicious, so she supposed her imagination was working overtime. Still, his lack of details nagged at her. She stopped tearing her garlic bread to shreds. “Where did you learn so much about the criminal world?”
“The military.”
“In which branch did you serve?” Liam asked.
Before Jason could answer, a man rushed into the dining room. He whispered loudly to the maître d’. “I must speak to the mayor about urgent business.”
The maître d’ frowned and gestured for the stranger to lower his voice. The newcomer ignored the maître d’ rushed past several groups of diners and didn’t halt until he reached a table by the windows where two gentlem
en stood to greet him.
“The Book of Celts is gone!”
A gray-haired gentleman wiped his mouth, then tossed the linen napkin down in disgust. “What do you mean the book is gone?”
“It was stolen right out of the library.”
3
JASON WATCHED as Kimberly’s eyes went as round as her butter dish and her skin paled as white as the linen tablecloth. When her bottom lip began to quiver, he watched in absolute fascination as she bit her lip and forced deep breaths of air into her lungs. He would have bet a jewel in his stash that she’d been just as surprised as he was to learn that the Book of Celts had been stolen—but she had had access to the book, she could have a partner he knew nothing about.
Unlikely. But possible.
Jason didn’t believe in coincidences. And he didn’t care how charming he found the quiver on Kimberly’s lips or how much he might want to draw her into his arms and kiss the quiver away, he couldn’t go with his gut reaction that she was an innocent—not when he’d caught her checking out that very same book while pretending to be someone else.
Earlier today after he’d let her go, she could have gone directly back to the library to steal the book, or after she’d cased the library and its security systems, she could have had an accomplice who’d done the dirty deed. She was good, all right.
Even as he whispered into her ear, “We need to talk, now,” and they excused themselves from their dinner companions, he felt compelled to steady her as she tripped over a smooth spot on the carpet.
He kept a grip on her elbow as they strode past the other diners. Clearly distressed but determined to hold herself together, she didn’t look to the right or the left. Her movements were still and he had the urge to pat her on the back, hold her close and tell her that she’d be fine.
After he’d caught her at the library, could she have gone through with her plans to steal the book? Was she so brazen that she figured her little-miss-innocent act would fool the local bobbies? And him?
A Burning Obsession Page 4
