by Abby Gaines
“You don’t like it?” she said nervously. Then realization dawned and a very feminine smile curved her mouth. “You do like it!”
“It’s not bad,” he groused.
Her face fell, and he felt like a heel. She deserves it. Then she stepped past him, and there was a wiggle in her hips that hadn’t been there before. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Are you ready?” she asked, her voice cooler and more sophisticated than he liked to hear from her.
He nodded. Then cleared his throat. “I like your hair.” Though he only said it to make up for hurting her feelings about the dress, there was no doubt her hair was pretty, curled loosely around her shoulders, highlights gleaming where the light caught them.
She grinned, delighted, the sophisticate act gone. She twirled a lock around her finger. “Just as well, since you spent a small fortune on it.”
As he held the car door open for Jen, Eli rethought his plans for the evening. Not about dumping her; he still planned to do that. But maybe he’d get that kiss in first.
JEN FELT LIKE CINDERELLA at the ball. She’d never seen such a glittering crowd. The gala was in aid of a charity supporting people who’d suffered life-altering injuries in road accidents. NASCAR drivers and team owners had turned out in force to lend their support. The result was wall-to-wall glamour.
The thing about Cinderella and the ball, Jen reminded herself, is that when midnight comes, it’s all over. The way Eli had looked at her when she’d called him a chicken, she’d be lucky to last that long.
But someone had to defend him. Gil didn’t get to play fast and loose with something as important to Eli as his career. That reporter didn’t get to heap all the blame on Eli for the discord at Double S Racing.
She glanced at his profile as they shook hands along the reception line. She could tell he was also still mad that she’d called him on the lack of intimacy, of loyalty, in his life. No one else would guess at his hostility, not with his mouth curved in that affable smile, and him holding her hand with every evidence of relaxation. But she saw it in the tension of his facial muscles.
It was a shame he couldn’t understand that she related far better to the glimpse she’d had of his loneliness than she did to his charming, disheveled Greek god persona. It made him…ordinary.
When they got past the receiving line, the first person they ran into was Gil, talking with a couple of other team owners. At least that meant he couldn’t snub them without generating a ton of gossip.
Eli took the initiative. “Evening, Gil.”
“Hello, Eli, Jen,” Gil said, a bite to his tone.
To Jen’s surprise, Eli tugged her closer.
“Hi, Gil,” she said, with a nip of her own. And was surprised again, when Eli’s lips twitched.
“You look delightful,” Gil complimented her, with the distant Charleston charm he did so well.
“Thanks,” Jen replied. “Eli is so wonderfully thoughtful that he arranged for Cara Stallworth to take me shopping for a dress.”
Gil’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Thoughtful indeed.”
She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic, so she squeezed Eli’s fingers in case he needed reassurance.
They moved on, crossing the enormous room.
“I don’t need you defending me to Gil,” Eli muttered, close to her ear. “Or to anyone.”
“You bring out my protective instincts,” she said.
He gaped. “What?”
“You heard.” She tried her own variation of his smirk, and was gratified to see it annoyed him. How could she ever have found him intimidating?
“Are you going to stop talking that crap,” he demanded, “or do I have to walk away?”
They’d reached the table occupied by some of the clients of the charity they were there to help. People who’d suffered all kinds of injuries, many of them still visible, eager now to meet Eli. They didn’t need him distracted by his anger with her.
“You don’t need to walk away,” she said. “I will.”
She left him glaring after her and went to talk to Cara and her husband, Jeb, who was so crazy about his new wife, it was almost painful to watch.
Jen kept an eye on Eli, who’d sloughed off his annoyance with her to chat to the accident victims. Even from here, she could see he was entirely natural with them, unfazed by physical incapacity, scarring or even mental disability. She wondered if meeting these people made him think about his parents’ fatal accident.
Bart Branch, one of the few NASCAR drivers she recognized, asked Jen to dance. He was pleasant company, so they danced through several songs. After Bart returned her to the Stallworths, she had no shortage of dance partners.
But the whole time she was aware of Eli. How could someone so shallow, so willing to walk out of a relationship or a job at the first sign of discomfort, see beyond the damaged surface into the hearts of the people he was still engrossed in conversation with?
Because that’s what he wants someone to do for him.
Could that be true? Could this man who specialized in superficial relationships, want someone to look deeper, despite his protestations to the contrary? He’d insisted their relationship was a sham, but he knew she took life seriously. Was he subconsciously seeking something real?
When the song finished, Jen excused herself from her partner and went over to Eli.
“Dance with me?” she asked.
“I doubt you have any energy left, after all that jigging about you’ve been doing.”
He’d been watching her…and he was even grumpier than before. Her heart swelled with tenderness. “I was getting in practice for you.”
He grunted. “I guess we could dance.”
Eli danced wonderfully, of course. Yet somehow Jen didn’t feel clumsy as he led her through several fast numbers.
The band segued into a slow, romantic jazz tune. When Eli took Jen in his arms, she felt like a chicken who’d found a roost.
Dangerous thinking. But she indulged it anyway.
She relaxed against Eli, and felt a lessening of his top-to-toe tension.
“I watched you with those people, the charity clients,” she said. “You were wonderful.”
He made a sound of denial, but he held her closer. It was heaven, here in his arms. She gave herself up to the moment. Her head told her it wouldn’t last. But her heart urged her to give him everything she could, just in case there was a chance they could make this real.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said gruffly. “I should have said earlier.”
“Thank you.”
His hand brushed her hip, then her derriere. Jen caught her breath.
“Let’s get some air.” His other hand tightened on her waist as he steered her through the crowd, out the French doors to a terrace. Along the railing, potted geraniums gave off a roselike scent. Beyond, the lights of uptown Charlotte glowed orange and red.
“Great view,” Jen said, suddenly breathless.
“Amazing.” Eli’s eyes fixed on her mouth with an intensity that was incredibly flattering.
That was Eli, she reminded herself. Intense…for as long as the moment lasted.
He pulled her into his arms.
“Jen.” His voice developed a heavy, curious quality that despite her total lack of experience with a man like him, some deep, inner part of her recognized.
“Yes,” she said huskily. An instruction, not a question.
His eyes flared. His mouth came down on hers.
Jen felt as if her whole life, all twenty-two years, had been preparation for this moment. Preparation for the coaxing warmth of Eli’s lips, for the possessive grasp of his hands. She shouldn’t find this safe; it was the most dangerous thing she’d ever done…and yet underlying the adrenaline rush was a sense that this was right.
She parted her lips, welcomed him in…and the thrill got a whole lot more potent. Eli was all man: broad shoulders, strong arms and those oh-so-tempting lips. His hands roamed her curves, telling her how muc
h he desired her.
She didn’t want this kiss ever to end.
A flash of bright light startled her. Eli sprang away, lightning-quick.
“What the hell,” he growled.
The photographer snapped another shot. “Sorry, folks, didn’t mean to interrupt.” He slipped his camera back into his bag in a hurry, perhaps recognizing Eli’s intent to seek and destroy. “Tony Cinzano, National Echo. Any chance I could have the lady’s name for my caption?”
Eli’s snarl discouraged him from waiting around for an answer.
Jennifer tugged her bodice back into place, her fumbling fingers a marked contrast to the grace, the poetry of that kiss. “Blast,” she muttered.
“No one with any sense reads that rag,” Eli assured her.
“My grandfather doesn’t, thank goodness,” she agreed. “If you and I are going to do…this kind of thing I want him to find out about it from me, not some newspaper.”
ELI WOULD HAVE LIKED to have enjoyed Jen’s sweet taste a bit longer. He could slug that photographer, interrupting the best kiss of his—
It’s been a while, that’s all. A kiss is just a kiss.
But the kiss was over and, tactless though it seemed, coming on the heels of that sensuous encounter, Jen had just handed Eli the perfect opportunity to deliver his news about the change in status of their relationship.
He just needed to remember he was mad with her, so he could take the moral high ground, unfamiliar territory that he suspected she pretty much had staked out.
“We won’t be doing this kind of thing again,” he said.
Her hands stilled where they’d been adjusting one of the straps of her dress. “You sound very sure about that.”
“You put my job in danger with that stuff you said to Gil this afternoon.”
“You did that,” she corrected him, “by going after a new job.”
“You made things worse,” he accused. “Who knows what that reporter will write?”
“It can’t be worse than what she planned to write anyway.”
Eli might have known she wouldn’t give up without a fight. He had no choice but to be direct. “Jen, I’m ending our relationship.”
She blinked. Then her hand went to her lips as if to confirm that, yes, the man who was now dumping her was the same one who’d kissed her a moment ago.
Eli shifted on his feet. “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said quickly. “But you were there and I was there…I seized the moment.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that’s all that kiss was?”
“That’s right.” He sounded belligerent, so he toned it down. “Having you around will remind Gil how angry he is. The opposite of what I’m trying to achieve. The fake girlfriend routine isn’t working anymore. So, it’s over.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head. “It’s too late for that, Eli.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I care about you.” And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she added, “And you care about me.”
Blood rushed at Eli’s temples. “No, I don’t.”
“I know you like to keep your relationships short and saccharine-sweet,” she said. “But all that fake sugar isn’t good for you. You need to toughen up and try the real thing.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” But he was certain he didn’t like it.
“You’re afraid of being abandoned again,” she said, “the way your family abandoned you, over and over. But it doesn’t have to be like that.”
A tight band constricted Eli’s throat, he couldn’t breathe. He tugged at his bow tie with both hands, and found air…just in time for Jen to land her sucker-punch.
“As of now, Eli, I’m your real girlfriend.”
JEN HADN’T INTENDED TO SAY that at all. But somehow, she knew it was the right thing. Not that Eli wanted a real girlfriend—or at least, not that he knew it.
He safeguarded his heart by always having the Next Big Thing lined up, whether it was a house, a job or a woman. The loneliness that corroded his ability to stick with a relationship was deep-seated.
But she believed he wasn’t beyond repair. That Eli had it in him to form regular relationships. To be, in that respect at least, an ordinary guy.
The horror on his face was almost comical.
“Jen,” he warned.
She went up on tiptoe, planted a kiss on his mouth. As if she was entitled. He instinctively kissed her back, but cut it short with a scowl. “If you care about me—” he threw her words back at him “—you’ll give this up. I’m telling you, Gil doesn’t want you around.”
“And if I’m not around, you’ll have those fans swarming all over you again. Gil won’t like that, either. I reckon at this stage he’s pretty much a neutral factor in the equation.”
“Okay, then, I don’t want you around,” he said. “You’re a pain in the butt.”
She recognized bluster when she saw it. “Right now, it’s you and me against the world, Eli. Do you want it to be just you?”
He opened his mouth, so she hurried on before he said something he felt he couldn’t back down on. “I think you and I could have something special, and I want you to give us a chance.”
“You want a guy with a regular job, for Pete’s sake!”
“I guess I can’t have everything.” She patted his hand. “If it’s any consolation, this is downright dangerous for me, Eli. For an ordinary girl like me, dating you is like letting a fox into the henhouse.”
“You’re nuts.” But the image must have appealed to him, because he ran his thumb along her bottom lip. She nipped the soft pad, and he growled, a low sound that made her stomach curl. “If you want to see some fox-in-henhouse action, just keep doing that,” he dared her.
Reluctantly she pulled away. “This isn’t about a physical relationship, Eli. Not yet. This is good, clean dating.”
He made a sound reminiscent of steam coming out of a cartoon character’s ears. “We’re not dating. I don’t want to date you.”
The rejection stabbed, but Jen rallied and smiled. “Calm down, sweetie. Let’s go dance some more. Then I might let you kiss me again.”
Gil Sizemore wasn’t the only person to notice a dazed Eli being led forcibly across the dance floor by a petite, determined woman. Jen only just managed to stifle her giggle.
CHAPTER TEN
BY THE TIME ELI CALMED down enough to stop dancing with Jen—he had to find something to do with his hands, or else he’d strangle her—the crowd was starting to dwindle.
He’d put off going home, because it meant being alone with her and he was damned if he was going to listen to any more of her garbage about him being abandoned.
But the staff were cleaning up, and they couldn’t stay. Jen retrieved her purse from the cloakroom and they headed for the door.
“Eli.” Dixon Rogers called out. He beckoned to Eli.
“Wait here,” Eli told Jen.
To his annoyance, she followed him.
“I owe you a phone call,” Dixon said. “Might as well save myself the quarter.”
He rearranged his troubled thoughts, found his smile. “Hi, Dixon.” Reluctantly he introduced the Fulcrum Racing owner to Jen.
“I’m his girlfriend,” Jen chirped.
Dixon smiled at her enthusiasm, then turned to Eli. “Our meeting on Wednesday…I’ve come to a conclusion.”
Eli held his breath.
“I like the way you think, I like what you do on the track,” Dixon said. “You’ve had a bad run lately, but you also have a flair that not many drivers share. Every guy out on that track is good, but only a handful have the air of a champion. To my mind, you’re one of them.”
“Thank you, sir.” Eli felt almost as if he was blushing at such praise from a man who was one of his longtime heroes. He knew without a doubt that Dixon’s next words would be a job offer. And he knew what he would say: yes. This would solve all his problems.
&nbs
p; “Aargh.” Jen clutched her stomach and doubled over.
“Are you all right?” Dixon’s face crinkled with concern.
What the hell was she up to now?
“She’s fine,” Eli said. “You were saying?”
Jen gave a low moan. Dixon ignored Eli to focus on her. Which was exactly the reason for this little charade, Eli fumed. Not content with ruining his life with Gil, she was about to put the kibosh on his new job, too.
“I’m not sure,” she panted, “maybe my appendix…”
“It’s not your appendix,” Eli said.
She squinted at him, and heaved a shuddering breath.
“She’s really ill.” Dixon grabbed Eli’s arm. “You need to get her to a hospital.”
“Dixon, she does this all the time…it’s, uh, gas.”
The expression on Jen’s face was priceless, if only Dixon had been watching. He was too busy glaring in the face of Eli’s lack of sympathy for his girlfriend.
“If you won’t take her to the hospital, I’ll call an ambulance,” Dixon snapped.
Clearly he wasn’t in any mood to go on discussing Eli’s future. Quite the opposite—if Eli didn’t start paying attention to his girlfriend’s appendicitis, the offer of a ride with Fulcrum would likely evaporate.
“Okay, chickadee,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’ll get you checked out. Though I’m certain it’s your gas problem flaring up again.”
Jen’s cheeks were pink with embarrassment and maybe the exertion of all that groaning she was doing. Eli was irritated to find her blush attractive. He wrapped an arm around her, gripping her shoulder with a force that said, you’re in trouble, lady, and escorted her outside.
“HOW DARE YOU!” He rounded on her as soon as he had her in the car with the doors locked.
Jen clipped her seat belt, her stomachache miraculously healed. “You were about to tell Dixon Rogers you want to drive for him.”
“Of course I was! He was offering me the job of my dreams…until you screwed it up,” he added bitterly.
“What about Gil?” Jen asked.
Eli pffed. “What about him?”
