A Contract Seduction

by Janice Maynard

  She stretched her arms over her head, yawning. “I’m great,” she said. “Oh, look. There it goes.” The sun disappeared and, unmistakably, a brief burst of emerald lit the horizon.

  “Maybe it’s a good omen.” Jonathan nuzzled her ear, standing behind her and sliding his arms around her waist.

  “I never saw you as a superstitious kind of guy,” she teased. It was true. The Jonathan Tarleton most people knew was logical and not given to flights of fancy. Yet here they were in a most unusual circumstance.

  Darkness fell rapidly. They slowly made their way back to where Jonathan had parked the Jeep. “Ready for home, Ms. Tarleton?” he asked, helping her into the passenger seat. He paused to kiss her.

  His lips were firm and warm, and tasted like cinnamon from the dessert they had shared.

  When he pulled back at last and went around the Jeep to his own side, she put a hand to her chest, breathless. They’d had sex twice so far today, and yet she trembled with wanting him.

  At the house, she showered while Jonathan checked all the outer doors and turned on the overnight pool filter. When he returned, she was sitting in bed wearing another new purchase. The coffee-colored satin made her feel sexy and playful.

  The flare of heat in Jonathan’s eyes said he approved, as well. “I won’t be long,” he promised.

  While she waited, she realized the two of them had a problem. They shouldn’t use sex to manipulate each other. It wasn’t productive, and it wasn’t healthy. Jonathan had promised to think about the baby thing, but she didn’t see any indication that he was changing his mind.

  Maybe she would have to insist. Jonathan was going to have to make a few concessions. He had married her, and she wouldn’t be kept in the dark about how he was feeling. If she was going to be at his side, he had to trust her. Completely.

  Her serious musings evaporated when he strode nude across the bedroom and climbed into bed. It was still too soon for her to be blasé about his big, aroused, decidedly damp-from-the-shower body.

  “Did you even try to dry off?” she asked.

  He slipped a hand between her thighs, finding her warm center. “I was in a hurry.” His other hand found a satin-covered breast and stroked it. “You look hot in this.” His pupils were dilated. His ever-ready erection bobbed as if it hadn’t been satisfied in months.

  “Thank you.”

  He sprawled onto his back and lifted her across his body. “We started off like this earlier today and got sidetracked. Seeing you from this angle takes my breath away. You’re gorgeous, Lizzy.” He shimmied the satin up her thighs until it bunched around her waist.

  She leaned forward and put her hands on his shoulders. “I like where this is going.”

  When he reached for the condom and handed it to her, his smile was challenging. “Will you do the honors?”

  She hesitated. “If you want me to.” Having him watch her so intently made the whole process nerve-racking. She handled the foil carefully. When it was time to roll the latex down his shaft, her hands trembled.

  Jonathan, on the other hand, didn’t move at all. He was rigid, braced as if to withstand mortal torture.

  Her relative inexperience in this arena made the act unintentionally provocative. His chest heaved and he closed his eyes, groaning.

  She flushed, more than a little turned-on by how very much he liked having her touch him. “I’m done,” she said.

  He opened one eyelid. “Oh, no, sweet thing. We’re only just beginning.”

  Nothing he did was what she expected. Instead of lifting her onto his erection, he used his thumb to caress her intimately. She was embarrassingly wet. “I’m ready,” she muttered, mortified by the fact that all her intimate bits were on full display.

  His wicked smile calculated every degree of her insecurity. “You should see this from my side,” he drawled. “Sheer perfection.”

  Her eyes scrunched shut, no longer able to watch his big tanned hands on her body. It was too much. Since she was trying very hard not to come yet, she started reciting multiplication tables in her head.

  Jonathan seemed in no particular hurry to move past the overture. Now both of his thumbs separated her swollen labia. “I’m insane with wanting you, Lizzy. I’d swear you spiked my drink tonight if we hadn’t been teetotalers.”

  His words were like sandpaper, scraping at her composure, revealing layers beneath. Truths she didn’t want to admit. She went up on her knees and tried to move things along. When she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and guided him toward her entrance, every atom of air in the room dried up, leaving her breathless and starved for oxygen.

  Gently she lowered herself until they were joined completely. The sensation of fullness from this angle was indescribable.

  Jonathan’s fingers gripped her bare butt so tightly she knew she would have bruises tomorrow. “Ride me, Lisette,” he begged.

  She was tentative at first, self-conscious. But Jonathan’s response spurred her on. With her every careful slide downward, his sex found pleasure points inside her. “Jonathan...” She dropped her head back and closed her eyes.

  He took the reins, a position she offered gladly. After that, all she had to do was feel and feel and feel. Each time they were together was different and new. Tonight he pushed her higher and higher, calculating which caresses would excite her without sending her over the top.

  His own self-control seemed endless.

  She was still wearing her nightgown. Jonathan was completely nude. The juxtaposition of her satin-clad flesh and his taut, muscled frame was provocative. Naughty.

  When she managed a peek at him, his gaze burned into hers. “You’re mine, Lizzy,” he said.

  A slight furrow creased her brow. The words sounded oddly possessive for a man who had nothing to offer her but his body...and that only temporarily. She glared at him through half-closed eyes. “Goes both ways, Jonathan. I want all of you. Nobody else. Just you.”

  Her words did something to him. He growled. There was no other way to describe the sound he made low in his throat. Bracing his feet against the mattress, he thrust wildly.

  Lisette crashed over the edge of the precipice where he had kept her poised for hours, it seemed. The pleasure bordered on pain, sharp and deep.

  Jonathan’s climax racked his body, left him rigid and groaning. It lasted forever.

  When she collapsed on top of him, her husband pulled the covers over them both. “Sleep,” he muttered.

  Lisette nodded and buried her face in the curve of his neck and shoulder. “Yes.”

  * * *

  Monday dawned bright and glorious. Lisette didn’t actually see the fabulous blue skies and sunshine until almost noon. Jonathan had awakened her twice during the night. Now she was sore and satiated and groggy.

  When she realized that her husband was not in bed beside her, she frowned.

  Before she could do anything more than run a hand through her wild sleep-tousled hair, Jonathan appeared in the doorway, looking disgustingly fresh and handsome. She felt like a wreck.

  His gorgeous smile had her tugging the sheet upward instinctively. She needed sustenance before the next round. Were all honeymoons like this?

  Then she focused on what he carried. A breakfast tray. Filled with an array of tantalizing goodies.

  “May I ask you a favor?” she said politely.

  His lips quirked in a grin. “Of course.”

  “Give me five minutes to freshen up. Then come back. And FYI, one pot of coffee might not be enough.”

  Her indefatigable lover chuckled, turned around and disappeared.

  Fearing his level of cooperation, she darted from the bed and into the bathroom. Since her sexy nightgown was crumpled on the bedroom floor, she put on one of the thick terry robes, brushed her hair and washed her face.

  By the time she returned to the bedroom
, she felt marginally more human. Jonathan showed up as she sat down on the bed. She scooted toward the headboard and waited for him to place the breakfast tray across her lap.

  She patted the mattress beside her. “You going to join me?”

  “I’ll have coffee,” he said, pointing at the second cup. “I ate earlier. You were so tired I didn’t want to wake you.” His smug smile made her face heat.

  “And whose fault was that?”

  He mimicked her pose from the opposite side of the bed. “Mine. All mine.”

  Though he professed to have eaten, that didn’t stop him from stealing tidbits from her tray. They shared the meal in companionable silence. The screened windows were open, letting in the breeze.

  Lisette studied her husband when she thought he wasn’t looking. He was young and healthy and strong. At least that’s what his outward appearance conveyed. She couldn’t believe he was as sick as he said.

  Maybe the culprit was stress. Here on vacation in a Caribbean playground he didn’t appear to be in pain. His posture was relaxed, his color good. As soon as they returned to Charleston, she was going to try one more time to get him to another doctor for an evaluation.

  People made mistakes all the time. Jonathan couldn’t be dying. She wouldn’t believe it.

  When she declared herself stuffed, Jonathan removed the tray and sprawled beside her, head on his hand. In touching distance. Then he lifted one eyebrow. One sexy, inquisitive eyebrow.

  “Oh, no,” she said, laughing. “We need to pace ourselves. Besides, you promised me a tropical vacation. I’ve barely seen anything.”

  He put his hand on her ankle. “I’ve seen a lot,” he smirked.

  She stood before she could give in to temptation. After rounding the foot of the bed, she rummaged in her suitcase for a sundress. “What’s on the agenda for today? And don’t say sex,” she warned, grinning in spite of herself.

  The man had an enormous ego. It wouldn’t be good for him to know how easily he could coax her into never leaving the house.

  Jonathan pretended to be disappointed, but since he had showered and was wearing navy linen shorts and a collared shirt, she could tell he had an excursion in mind.

  “I thought we’d go into St. John’s,” he said. “First of all, we need to buy wedding rings.”

  Her hands stilled in her suitcase. “That’s not really necessary, is it?”

  “We got married so quickly I had to improvise. But I want you look the part of the CEO’s wife.”

  Any pleasure she had anticipated in the task, fizzled. “I see. That makes sense, I guess.”

  Inwardly she grimaced. The way he posed the shopping idea made it clear that his bargain with her was practical and not romantic. She knew that all too well. Still, disappointment soured her stomach.

  Twenty minutes later they were headed down the hill and toward the capital. The city of twenty thousand plus was more cosmopolitan than Lisette had expected. Cruise ships docked regularly in the deep harbor. High-profile banks, upscale shops and malls all mingled with more traditional Antiguan enterprises. The spires of a cathedral dominated the skyline.

  Jonathan parked and took her hand as they got out. “My friend who owns the villa told me where to find the best jeweler. I called ahead and told them we were coming.”

  Inside the small shop, well-lit cases were crammed with tray after tray of rings and necklaces and watches. Calypso music played from a room in the back. In a large cage dangling from the ceiling, a brightly colored parrot squawked a greeting. Unlike a glitzy establishment in the States, this enterprise was more pirate cove than Madison Avenue.

  “Are you sure about this?” she whispered.

  He nodded slowly. “I’m supposed to ask for Henry.”

  A large black man appeared from behind a curtain, beaming. “That would be me. And you, of course, are the Tarletons. Welcome to Antigua.”

  “Thank you,” Jonathan said. “I’m Jonathan, and this is my wife, Lisette. We tied the knot in somewhat of a hurry, so we didn’t have the appropriate rings. We’re here to remedy that.”

  “Excellent. I have plenty of inventory, as you can see.”

  While the two men initiated a search, Lisette curled her fingers around the small signet ring on her left hand. She didn’t really want to give it up. Jonathan had said vows to her and married her with this ring. It was special to her.

  Reluctantly she slipped it off and tucked it into her small clutch purse.

  When she joined the men at a case on the far side of the room, Henri had rolled out a red velvet cloth and was piling up choices, one after another. All the rings were in matching sets.

  She shot Jonathan a startled glance. “You’re going to wear a wedding band, too?”

  “Of course.” He seemed surprised. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  A dozen reasons came to mind right off. This wasn’t a real marriage. He was only protecting his company and hiding his illness.

  Fortunately, his question was rhetorical and didn’t require an answer.

  Henry spoke up, his British accent most appealing. “Do you see anything you like, little ma’am?”

  “Those are nice,” she said, pointing to a plain set, hoping they would be less expensive. It seemed both reckless and immoral to spend a fortune on a prop.

  Jonathan nodded. “I like them, as well.”

  The shiny silver-colored bands were edged with the tiniest of beading design around the rims.

  The jeweler handed both rings to Jonathan. “Platinum. Designer pieces. Excellent choice.”

  Before Lisette could protest the expense, Jonathan took her hand in his and slipped the smaller of the two rings on her left hand without ceremony. It fit perfectly.

  He smiled at her. “What do you think?”

  “It’s lovely.”

  Instead of offering her the male ring—so she could return the favor—he put the second band on his own finger and nodded. “These will do nicely. Now we need to look at engagement rings.”

  Lisette pulled on his arm. “May I speak to you in private?”

  Jonathan frowned. “Right now?”

  “Yes, right now.”

  While Henry straightened the case, Lisette dragged Jonathan over toward the front door of the shop. She lowered her voice. “I don’t want an engagement ring. Under the circumstances, it’s completely unnecessary.”

  Jonathan’s eyes turned glacial. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone countermanding his wishes. “Under what circumstances?”

  “Don’t be deliberately dense. This is a marriage of expedience, of convenience. It’s pointless to spend thousands of dollars on a meaningless romantic gesture.”

  He was stone cold now. This was the man she knew the best. The unflappable CEO. The hard-edged businessman.

  “And what about the honeymoon?”

  She cocked her head, confused. What about it?”

  “Wouldn’t you say the honeymoon has been real?” His icy gaze dropped from her face to her breasts. “Surely that deserves recognition.”

  Her temper flared. “When a man has sex with a woman and then pays her off in pricey baubles, there’s a word for that.”

  His chin jutted. “You’re my wife, not some random woman. I fail to see why my buying you a diamond makes me the bad guy.”

  “I’d rather have a baby than a diamond ring.”

  Here they were again. Back at square one. Arguing. Apparently, the only time they were both in perfect accord was when they were in bed.

  Her throat was tight with sad, angry tears. And the truth was even worse. She wasn’t angry with Jonathan for being who he was; she was angry with herself for falling into the trap of believing any of this was real.

  She lowered her head, not wanting him to see her anguish. “Fine,” she muttered. “Pick one out. I’ll wear it.”

 
; The standoff lasted for painful seconds. Then, with a low curse, Jonathan whirled around and went back to confer with the jeweler again.

  Because Lisette refused to be part of the process, she lingered where she was, pretending to peruse the collection of watches. If Henry was puzzled by her indifference, he didn’t let on. Fifteen minutes later, he and Jonathan completed their transaction.

  Outside, the sun was blinding. Lisette donned her sunglasses. “Can we do lunch next?” she asked. “I’m getting hungry.”

  “Not yet.” Without warning, Jonathan knelt in the street and took her hand. “Lisette Stanhope, will you do me the honor of being engaged to me?”

  Fourteen

  Jonathan knew he was in trouble. He had hurt his bride—not intentionally, but nevertheless true. Now he willingly made a fool of himself in hopes of bringing a smile back to her face.

  She wanted a baby, and Lord knows, he’d enjoy making one with her. Something stopped him though. A certainty that it wasn’t fair to tie her down when he wouldn’t be around to share the parenting.

  Lisette pulled on his arm. “Get up, for goodness’ sake. People are staring at us.”

  He allowed her to pull him to his feet, but still he held the ring. “I asked you a question, Lizzy. My execution was faulty all along the way, but no less sincere. Say you’ll marry me.”

  She gaped at him, and then her mouth snapped shut. “We’re already married. This is ridiculous.”

  “When is your birthday?”

  “It was three weeks ago, remember? I took the day off and went to Savannah with a friend.”

  “Ah, yes.” Again he took her hand. “Then consider this a belated birthday present. It wouldn’t have been an appropriate gift from your boss, but now it’s perfectly acceptable.” Before she could protest, he reached out and slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. “Happy two-day anniversary, Ms. Tarleton. Here’s to many more.”

  For the first time, Lisette looked at the ring. Her eyes widened.

  Jonathan had selected a stunning stone, emerald cut. Three carats. Virtually perfect in color and clarity. The delicate setting did nothing to detract from the diamond’s beauty. As Lisette held up her arm, the sun caught facets of the once-upon-a-time carbon and cast rainbows in every direction.