Impossible to Resist

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Impossible to Resist Page 9

by Janice Maynard


  It felt so damned good… .

  Stealthily, she eased onto her back so she could see his face. He hadn’t had time to shave that morning. Dark stubble covered his chin. Ridiculously long lashes lay in dark crescents on his tanned cheeks.

  His profile was classic, but for the tiny bump at the bridge of his nose that suggested it had been broken sometime in the past. What caused it? A brawl with his brothers? A skiing accident? Daringly, she traced his lower lip with her finger.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Eyes still shut, he grumbled.

  Since he hadn’t batted her hand away, she continued her exploration, touching the shell of his ear.

  “God in heaven.” He manacled her wrist, dragging it away from his face before letting go. Sleepy eyes glared at her. “What part of behave don’t you understand?”

  “I want you, Jacob Wolff,” she said, stripped of any desire to dance around the subject. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Don’t you think we’d be good together? In bed?” She clarified her question so there would be no misunderstandings. Did he realize he was kneading her breast?

  She gasped when he tugged at her nipple. Heat streaked from the place where his fingers teased her, joining with the ache between her legs. If this simple contact turned her inside out, what would it be like if he actually made love to her in earnest?

  “We have nothing in common,” he said, his gaze sober.

  She sat up and brushed the front of his trousers, not lingering, but making her point. “We have this.”

  This time he didn’t bother to move her hand. Emboldened, she stroked him through a layer of denim. His sex flexed and hardened even more. He closed his eyes, jaw rigid, brow furrowed.

  His silence worried her. “Shall I stop?” she asked, her voice shaking with nerves though she hoped he didn’t notice.

  He trapped her hand against his pelvis. “Don’t move. Just hold me.”

  She obeyed, curling her fingers against his shaft and feeling the pulse of his hunger. One of his hands fisted in her hair, and his breath came in great gasps. “Why do you have to be so hardheaded?” He groaned when she squeezed gently.

  Knowing that she could affect him in such a way humbled her. His iron control was one of the things she admired about him. So why was she testing its limits? Since the day they had met, she’d taunted and teased and chipped away at his boundaries, trying to force him to give her something…anything.

  “I think you’ve been lying to me,” she said, determined to bring her worst fears out into the open.

  That got his attention despite his extreme state of arousal. “I don’t lie.”

  His fierce glare should have cowed her, but over the years, she had faced down her share of ranting directors. Angry males were nothing new in her experience. “You’ve been making excuses for why we should avoid this thing between us.”

  One sardonic eyebrow lifted. “Do me a favor and don’t call it a thing.”

  When she realized he was joking, her face flamed. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. We want each other, Jacob. And there’s no reason we shouldn’t be together. Be honest. That stuff you said about me being too young or you being my doctor was just an excuse.”

  “You might consider the fact that we’ve known each other for all of five minutes.”

  “Details,” she said, bending down to kiss him softly. “I want you to be honest. Are you holding out because you think I’ve slept around…and that disgusts you?”

  He sat up, dislodging her hand from his pants. Sliding his fingers beneath her hair, he kissed her roughly. “Don’t be ridiculous. Give me a little credit. Why would I expect you to be a nun? I don’t believe in double standards.”

  They fell backward together, her legs tangling with his. “Then give us a chance.” She mumbled the words against his throat, groaning as he nipped the side of her neck with his teeth. Her whole body shivered in reaction. There was so much goodness in him, such a deep vein of decency. It seduced her more than anything ever had.

  Some women wanted bad boys. Ariel needed something entirely different.

  When his hand moved between her thighs, she tensed. It was one thing to torment him, another entirely to be on the receiving end. Her thin, stretchy pants didn’t stop him. Rubbing gently, he zeroed in on the spot that throbbed and ached.

  Ariel cried out in shock as he stimulated her deliberately. The pleasure was liquid and electric. Clearly, Jacob Wolff had more than a working knowledge of a woman’s anatomy. In mere minutes she was hovering on the edge of climax.

  He nuzzled her collarbone, his breath hot and labored. “This is a really bad idea,” he muttered. Without warning, he reversed direction and found his way inside her panties, touching bare flesh.

  Ariel, already primed, came immediately, riding out the wave of intense pleasure as Jacob stroked her intimately. Afterward, she curled into his embrace, burying her face at his throat. “That’s not what I meant,” she whispered. “You’re still…”

  “Still what?” he asked, humor evident in his wry response.

  “You know. I want to make you feel good.”

  “You did, princess. You do. But that’s as far as we’re going today. One of us has to have some sense.”

  She sighed, licking the underside of his chin. “I don’t know why you have to be so stuffy. We’re in a tropical paradise. You’re pretending to be my boyfriend. And I’m not sick. What will it hurt to have a little fun along the way?”

  “Are you really that naive?”

  “Now you’re being rude. And patronizing.”

  He played with her hair. “I think you’re an amazing woman, Ariel. And you have an incredible future ahead of you. Why complicate matters with an old guy like me?”

  “You’re thirty,” she snapped. “Hardly Methuselah’s contemporary.”

  She felt the chuckle that rumbled through his chest. “Let’s slow this down. Give it some time. You’re going to be too busy, anyway, to have a fling. Aren’t I right?”

  “Maybe,” she said grudgingly. “But I still think you’re bossy and overbearing.”

  “I can live with that,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “But I couldn’t forgive myself if I took advantage of you. And that’s what it would feel like. So don’t push me, please.”

  Tears burned her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “I’ll try,” she whispered. “But I’m not making any more promises.”

  Twelve

  Jacob made himself climb out of bed. Releasing Ariel and acting as if nothing momentous had happened required every bit of acting skill he could muster. His whole body was in agony. He needed her with a white-hot ache that infused every cell in his body with yearning.

  Damning his conscience and his scruples, he reached for the phone. “I’m going to order lunch. You okay with that?”

  She still looked mad, but mad was better than hurt. “Whatever.”

  He hid out in the living room while she showered, not trusting himself to be so close while she was naked. His hand still burned from touching her. She’d been warm, wet and willing. Every guy’s fantasy.

  Jacob Wolff was an idiot. He could almost hear his brothers jeering at him for his misplaced nobility. Of course, Gareth and Kieran were getting laid nightly now, each with a brand-new wife tucked in his bed. Jacob had felt the sting of envy at their weddings and been shamed by it.

  He wanted what they had, but he was a damned coward. Even witnessing their complacent joy, he wasn’t willing to go out on an emotional limb. The tree was flimsy and the fall a long one. He told himself he was satisfied to remain with his feet firmly planted on the ground.

  Ariel was a challenge. One he would have to work hard to handle. She was impulsive and tempestuous and sensual. The kind of woman every mother warned her sons about. If Jacob let her into his soul, she had the potential to drag him to the heights and in the end watch him tumble into despair.

  He could fall in love with her. Along with every man in her orb
it. And in his case, it would be as much love as lust. Something about her tugged at his heartstrings and made him half believe that there was such a thing as happy endings.

  But when all was said and done, Ariel dwelt in a world of fiction. Where the final scene was always emotionally satisfying. Even now, poised to take on the character of a tormented heroine, she would play her part so well that the audience would be convinced it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

  Jacob didn’t buy it. Tennyson clearly hadn’t watched a beloved fiancée waste away in pain and suffering, helpless to do a thing to save her. In retrospect, Jacob didn’t really understand how he had finished his residency. The days had been a blur of nonstop work. Hour after hour of mind-numbing routines that managed to anesthetize the torment for brief periods.

  And when his compatriots had discovered his true identity and had turned on him en masse, it had been the final straw. Jacob was done with humanity. He liked his hermit ways. Sex made a man stupid, and he was smarter than most. So he would handle Ariel. Somehow. No matter how many cold showers were required.

  The location schedule became his friend. Up before dawn. Falling into bed at night, completely exhausted. In the afternoons, Ariel and John England rehearsed the following day’s script. The grueling pace was hardest on Ariel, because she was in virtually every scene.

  Her ability to memorize entire pages of lines stunned Jacob. She had a chip on her shoulder about her lack of formal education, but she was brilliant in ways Jacob could never manage. For someone at the height of her career, she was surprisingly insecure. He wished she could see herself as others saw her. People gravitated to her happiness, her energy.

  He’d never experienced life on another movie set, but he had a hunch that not all stars hobnobbed with the crew the way Ariel did. She played poker with the old men and traded bawdy jokes with the young ones. She commiserated with women about the foibles of their mates, and was charmingly appreciative to everyone who made her life as leading lady flow more smoothly.

  After their intimate nap, Ariel reformed. Though she still teased him verbally, there was a new line drawn in the sand. Other than the necessary PDAs, she never touched him. Even if it was a lie, she always feigned sleep by the time he got out of the shower at night.

  Their uneasy truce ushered them through the first three weeks of shooting, but trouble loomed on the horizon. Rod drove them all relentlessly, taking advantage of an unprecedented string of postcard-worthy days. Ariel worked harder than anyone, pushing herself to the limit in order to make every scene perfect in as few takes as possible.

  She and John established an immediate friendship, sharing a love of juvenile video games and a penchant for practical jokes. Jacob might have been jealous were it not for the fact that even a blind man could see they acted more like siblings than lovers.

  Fortunately, John and Ariel’s camaraderie enabled them to slip easily into character when the cameras rolled. Jacob watched the lovely Viola reluctantly falling in love with the man who had claimed her and tamed her. Though not politically correct by modern standards, the love story was compelling and deeply moving.

  Jacob hoped that the death scene would be shot back in L.A. He didn’t think he had the fortitude to watch Ariel perish in front of his eyes. She was such a convincing actress, he knew that her demise would wrench tears from even the most jaded movie-goers.

  She seemed to live on coffee and yogurt. Whenever possible, he coaxed her to eat more, but the heat and the pressure of filming combined to decimate her appetite. He kept an eagle eye on her. Even when he saw her lose a pound or two, it was obvious she was not trying to watch her weight. She was simply worn out.

  One afternoon when she was supposed to be sneaking in a cat nap, he found her sitting on the side of the bed signing a stack of head shots.

  Jacob leaned in the doorway. “I thought you were sleeping.”

  She looked up guiltily. “Have you met Reggie, the assistant cameraman? His daughter is having a birthday party. I offered to send these autographed pictures to hand out to her friends. Middle school girls are ruthless. It never hurts to have a little bribe in hand.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  Perhaps not. But most people wouldn’t have been so generous with their time, or so thoughtful in the first place.

  He sat down beside her and tugged at the end of her ponytail. “I have good news.”

  She rested her head for a brief moment on his shoulder. “Do tell.”

  “Rod is giving everyone the night off. He’s pleased with how shooting has gone thus far, and he’s showing his gratitude.”

  “Who knew that under that cranky, gruff exterior lurked a teddy bear?” She signed the last photo with a flourish and tucked the stack in an envelope.

  “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that. But then again, you always see the best in people. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “That’s a sweet thing to say.”

  “I can be nice if I set my mind to it.” He put his arm around her. “How about celebrating? I’ll steal the car from Harriet and take you up to Shirley Heights to watch the sunset. I’m told you can see all the way to Montserrat. Live reggae music. Dancing. Great seafood. What do you think?”

  “What are we celebrating?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Life in general. I’m glad I came with you, Ariel. Seeing part of your world has been eye-opening.”

  “Everyone in the cast and crew loves you.”

  It was his turn to flush. “Everyone?” He caught her earlobe between his teeth and tugged.

  She inhaled sharply, and he saw her hands curl into fists as her eyelashes lowered. “I’m not allowed to love you,” she said primly. “I’m not even permitted to get near you. Sort of like a kid in a china shop. Look, but don’t touch.”

  “You’re a sassy brat.” He kissed the skin just below her ear, tasting warm woman and coconut oil. “You’ve been on your best behavior, haven’t you?”

  Her head lolled on her shoulders, a dreamy smile on her face. “You have no idea.”

  “Then you deserve a treat. We both do.”

  She curled an arm around his neck and surprised him with a quick kiss. “Define treat.”

  Damn it. He’d thought he could keep this light and fun. But already, his body betrayed him. His sex was hard and ready. And Ariel was soft and warm in his embrace. She was wearing a white gauze skirt with a lemon-yellow bikini top that barely covered her nipples.

  His fingers ached to tug it aside, but he was on a hair trigger, and he knew he couldn’t chance it. Not yet.

  “How about if we start with some very public hand-holding and go from there?”

  She released him and pouted. “Doesn’t sound like much of a treat. I’m guessing you do your best work in private. We could always stay here. In this room.”

  He was tempted. God, he was tempted. His decision to keep his distance from Ariel, both emotionally and physically, had been tested on a daily basis…sometimes hourly.

  “We’re going out,” he said firmly. “Put on your fanciest dress. I’ll be back for you in an hour.”

  * * *

  Ariel’s heart soared. A date with Jacob Wolff…an honest to God date. She was giddy with excitement. She jumped in the shower, washing from head to toe with some of the expensive gel provided by the hotel management. After shampooing her hair and shaving her legs, she got out and dried off, all the while pondering what to wear.

  Though she hoped she wasn’t being vain, she sensed Jacob’s desire deepening. He was affectionate with her, almost indulgent at times. But that was not what she wanted. Despite his reservations, she was a grown woman with needs that only he could fulfill.

  She was falling in love with him. And though she knew it was stupid and self-destructive, she couldn’t seem to help herself. Jacob Wolff was a Renaissance man. Confidence came as naturally to him as breathing. Whethe
r he was playing a rowdy game of beach football with the guys or discussing politics with Rod, or helping out when one of the young actresses suffered a migraine, he was completely comfortable in his own skin.

  For a guy who professed to be happy with his solitary lifestyle, locked away in his research lab, he seemed remarkably content to fit into her world. And that was dangerous. Because Ariel began to weave dreams that included a leading man who was as real as it gets.

  Physically, Jacob could have been an actor. He had the good looks. His body was overtly masculine, sculpted with muscle and sinew, and his rakish grin, when he forgot to be serious, was so sexy it literally stole her breath.

  She knew everyone thought they were having sex night after night. The teasing had been subtle but persistent. Her only response was a bland smile. What happened between her and Jacob was not information for public consumption. And besides, if word leaked out that her roommate was resorting to cold showers rather than making love to her, no one would believe it.

  After dithering in front of the closet for ten minutes, she finally chose a silver, knee-length dress made of fabric so thin it was almost like cobwebs. Lined in matching satin, it caught the light when she moved. The neckline was simple with spaghetti straps and a bodice that dipped modestly in front and back. Fitted at the waist, it twirled out in a froth of layered crinolines.

  It was a party dress, a look-at-me-I’m-pretty frock that made her feel feminine and daring. And it wasn’t so sleek and fancy that she would feel out of place in the casual atmosphere of Antigua’s nightlife.

  Three-inch silver heels and a tiny matching clutch completed the outfit. She wore her favorite diamond studs, ones that had belonged to her grandmother, along with a single diamond bangle bracelet.

  Staring in the mirror as she put up her hair, she wondered if Jacob would find her sexy…or if he would see a little girl playing dress-up. His refusal to acknowledge her maturity and their mutual attraction frustrated her. Perhaps tonight was her opportunity to change things.

 

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