Hotshot

by Jo Leigh

  Obviously, Chase thought it was highly amusing.

  He’d shown up just when she’d thought she was safe. And during the last commercial break, he’d told her he’d made dinner reservations.

  “Um, hi, Dr. Jamie. Is, um, Chase there?”

  He leaned in to the mike, all the while staring at her, smiling as if he had a secret, and, boy, was she going to find out what it was.

  “I’m here.”

  “Hi, Chase. My husband thinks you’re a shoo-in for the Budapest race.”

  “Thank him for me, although nothing’s for sure.”

  “No? Then you think you won’t be able to seduce Dr. Jamie?”

  He laughed, and the sound rippled through Jamie. The last thing on earth she wanted was to be turned on by Chase Newman. Unfortunately, her body wasn’t getting the urgency of her message. When he looked at her, she went all smooshy inside. Oh, great. Now she was losing her mind. A cum laude PhD didn’t use words like smooshy.

  “I think it’s going to be a hell of an interesting ride finding out.”

  “Me, too. We’ve got a pool started at the office. My money’s on you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve seen your picture. Honey, if I wasn’t married…”

  Jamie leaned in to her mike. “Now, come on, this isn’t funny. Women have to take responsibility for every part of their lives.”

  “I know,” Audrey said, “but I also think you’re not accounting for sex appeal.”

  “I am. But I’m also accounting for reason. For judgment. For prioritizing. Women have to stop letting men make their decisions for them. We’re not the weaker sex.”

  “I completely agree,” Chase said. “You’re not the weaker sex. In fact, you’re strong as steel. But you also need a little romance.”

  “Romance and seduction are two different things.”

  “Not if you do it right.”

  “That might be true for the women you’ve gone out with. But, in my book, a woman doesn’t let honeyed words and flattery alter the facts of a relationship. As I was saying to Gabby, it’s the actions that count, not the flowers, not the compliments.”

  “Uh, Dr. Jamie?”

  “Yes?” Damn, she’d forgotten Audrey was on the line.

  “What are you going to do tonight?”

  She looked at Chase. He winked at her, which thoroughly ticked her off. But she couldn’t afford to tell him to leave. Not yet. “We’re going to dinner.” “Where?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to say.” Jamie cleared her throat. “We do need a certain amount of privacy.”

  “Besides,” Chase said, “I didn’t tell her.”

  “It sounds like you have the whole night planned,” said Audrey.

  “I do.”

  “You think tonight will be the night?”

  “I hope so.”

  Jamie took a calming breath. This conversation was not going well. “It will not.”

  “Dr. Jamie? Is he as gorgeous as his pictures?”

  Jamie closed her eyes. “He’s very nice-looking.”

  “My friend Ellen said he has a butt to die for.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Dr. Jamie, but with an attitude like that, you’ll win this bet hands down…but it won’t be fair.”

  “Thank you, Audrey. I’ll take that under advisement. This is Dr. Jamie on WXNT. Ted Kagan is up next. Speak to you tomorrow.”

  She clicked off her board and swung around to face Chase. “You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you.”

  He nodded.

  “Tell me. Is it the fact that I’m being humiliated, the fact that you’re getting your own little fan club, or both?” “Both.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Ted opened the door, his hands full of files for his show. Jamie nodded curtly and stowed all her gear to make room for him. Chase lifted the bundle of papers and articles out of her arms. It was such a courtly gesture.

  “Jamie, honey,” Ted said, “you need to move your behind.”

  She jumped out of the way, then led Chase to the door. As she reached for the handle, he again stepped in and did it for her.

  “Are there things you have to do before we go?”

  She thought about telling him she wasn’t interested in dinner, but that would be a lie. She’d thought about what Elliot had said. The game was on, and she needed to be a savvy player. “I have to speak to Marcy and put my things in my office.”

  “Lead on, McDuff.”

  Marcy was in the production booth. She’d pinned her hair up, which made her neck look long and elegant. Her outfit added to the image, the dress hugged her curves but not too tightly. Everything about her looked polished. Jamie knew Marcy was putting on the dog for Ted, but she didn’t think Marcy was aware of it.

  “Great show.” Marcy smiled at Chase. “And thank you for coming by. I wasn’t sure you would.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  Jamie looked up. “What changed your mind?”

  He met her gaze. “You.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He nodded. “My point exactly.”

  The all-too-familiar heat came to her cheeks and, needing something to do, she took her things from his hands. His response shouldn’t have surprised her. He was following a typical male pattern—trying to disarm her, charm her. And the whole eye-contact business was right out of her textbooks. Eye contact was the first stage of the mating process, the first real evidence of interest.

  What she didn’t understand was why she was falling for it. This was a game to Chase, he was only here out of boredom. And yet, her insides fairly quivered when their eyes met.

  “Jamie?” Marcy’s brows had furrowed. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I was saying that it would be great if you two figured out what you were going to do over the weekend. And I’d like you to call in. I’ll figure out times tonight.”

  Jamie nodded, but inside her panic light had gone on. What was she going to do with him over the weekend? It couldn’t be anything too private. The safest way to keep her secret intact was to avoid any situations that could lead to intimacy.

  Chase took Marcy’s hand and kissed the back. It could have been creepy, but it wasn’t. It made Marcy giggle, which hardly ever happened. She even futzed with her hair. The man had the touch. Oh man, did he have the touch.

  The hole Jamie had dug for herself suddenly got a lot deeper. Damn, damn, damn.

  CHASE WATCHED HER FINGERS as she toyed with her spoon. She’d ordered tiramisu but so far she hadn’t tasted it. Or her cappuccino. If she’d eaten four bites of her dinner, he’d be surprised. She was scared. And he was a bastard for enjoying it.

  “I’d planned on going into private practice, but all that changed when I did the radio show at the university.”

  “You fell in love.”

  One side of her mouth quirked up. “I suppose you could say that.”

  “It’s a good thing. Passion is important.”

  “What are you passionate about?”

  “Racing.”

  “Why?”

  He shifted in his chair and looked around for the waiter. “I like the speed.”

  “And the danger?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Have you always been an excitement junkie?” “Pretty much.”

  “The need for adrenaline can be quite compelling. I read a study about people who need danger in their lives. The theory is it’s chemical… What?”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “Huh?”

  “Where were you born?”

  “Minnesota.”

  “Brothers, sisters?”

  “One brother, Kyle. He’s a neurosurgeon at Cedar Sinai in L.A.”

  “Are your parents in the medical field?”

  She nodded. “They’re both gynecologists.”

  “That explains a lot.”

&
nbsp; “What do you mean?”

  He shook his head. “Did they help you get through school so fast?”

  “No. Well, maybe some of it had to do with my family. Mostly, I just liked school. I was good at it.”

  “I’ll bet you were. When all the other kids were out getting sick on beer and pizza, you were in the dorm, studying the night away.”

  “Well, yes. I developed good habits early. I’m not ashamed of it.”

  “I wish I’d known you in college.”

  “Why?”

  “I would have taught you a few things.”

  “What, like taking drugs or drinking? No, thanks.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. My curriculum would have been a whole lot more personal than that.”

  She cleared her throat and turned her spoon over. “My education was quite well-rounded, I assure you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So what about you? Your parents? Your education?”

  “My mother lives here in New York. She’s very busy.”

  “And your father?”

  “He died when he was thirty-five.”

  Sympathy changed her face. On most people, that look of sorrow and empathy would have been bull, but something told him Jamie wasn’t shoveling. Of course, that’s what made her good at her job. She cared about people. Or else she was a master at pretending.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.” He caught the waiter’s attention and asked for the check. Turning back, he nodded toward her dessert. “You going to eat that?”

  “Oh.” She took a bite. “It’s good. Would you like some?”

  He took her spoon from her fingers and brought it to his lips. He licked the remnants of her bite, tasting her along with the sweet concoction. She blushed again, which was the point.

  JAMIE WISHED IT WASN’T SO HUMID, but she couldn’t expect anything else in August. The rich folks were ensconced in the Hamptons by now, leaving the rest of the population to sweat it out. Still, this was her favorite time to be walking. Well after midnight, the streets weren’t so crowded, the smells of the city weren’t too overwhelming. And the Fifth Avenue windows were all still lit; the expensive trinkets and high-fashion clothes seemed like a private exhibition for her benefit alone.

  Of course, her attention wasn’t completely on the displays. They’d walked two blocks now, and at the corner of 44th and State, Chase had put his hand on the small of her back.

  She’d tried to get him to talk about himself. That was one of her surest techniques. Most men found themselves utterly fascinating. But Chase kept bringing the subject back to her.

  He leaned down, his lips close to her ear. “Tell me a secret.”

  The shiver went all the way down to her toes. “Pardon?”

  “Tell me something you’ve never told another living soul. Something wicked.”

  “You go first.”

  He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that swirled around her like a mist. “All right. When I was fourteen, I drove a car for the first time.”

  “That’s wicked?”

  “Considering it was a stolen limousine, yeah.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. It was a big old stretch limo. Belonged to my father. I decided I wanted to go for a ride. And ride I did.”

  “What happened?”

  “They eventually got it out of the swimming pool, but the car never was the same after that.”

  She laughed, and it felt wonderful. For the first time since she’d agreed to this farce, she felt relaxed. Thank goodness for humor. She said that a lot on her show.

  As her smile faded, her focus returned to his hand, which couldn’t possibly be as hot as it felt. The warmth came from her mind, her imagination. Whatever caused it, the sensation intensified by degrees, and without giving him any warning, she stopped at a window. It was just a drugstore, and the displays were mostly paper goods, but it did the trick. Her back was Chase-free. And cold.

  He came to her side. “Low on paper towels, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Then, why did you stop?”

  She shrugged. “It’s getting late.”

  He touched her. “Come on.”

  She walked with him again. Just as it had warmed her back, his hand simmered on her arm. They didn’t speak, but she felt him, felt his presence in a way that was new and scary as hell.

  They turned a corner, and Chase moved closer to her. Something shifted, as if the air had become electrified. As if she’d forgotten how to breathe. He moved his hand to the back of her upper arm, guiding her steps, moving her away from the curb. Away from safety. From sanity.

  His grip tightened, his pace quickened, and the next thing she knew, he’d pulled her into an alley. It was very dark, and she couldn’t see his face. Fear jackhammered in her chest, and she tried to pull away. He pushed her against the wall, the brick rough on her back. He took her hands in his and pushed them against the rough wall, too, on either side of her head. The concrete scraped her flesh.

  She couldn’t escape, and she didn’t understand, and her heart beat so fast and hard she wasn’t sure she could take it. But something else was pulsing, too. Her breasts, and lower still.

  The scent of baking bread snuck in between the dank smells of the alley, but when Chase pressed against her, it was his scent that took over. Masculine, slightly spicy, with a hint of sweat that made her insides clench.

  He stole away her breath as he captured her lips. His kiss was as hard as the wall behind her, as hot as her flesh where he touched her, as scary as the dark recesses of the alley. His tongue thrust in her over and over, and his mouth widened and narrowed as he ravished her.

  No one had kissed her like this before. It was a new thing, unique in its power to make her tremble. He invaded her mouth, took liberties with his tongue. Intimate, like sex itself, and she felt helpless to stop him.

  And then his hips moved against hers with deliberate intent. He wanted to stir her into a frenzy, and, God help her, he was succeeding.

  He pulled back, took his lips away, and she couldn’t stop the tiny moan of disappointment. The only thing she could see was the outline of his head, his unruly hair. Not his eyes, though. She knew what she would have seen there—lust, and just a hint of cruelty.

  “This is the first night,” he whispered. “Before it’s over, I’m going to have you in my bed. There are things I’m going to do to you. Things that will scare you, that will make your heart beat the way it is right now.”

  “No.” She tried to push him away, but his hips ground into hers, keeping her still.

  “I see the truth in your eyes. That untamed part of you is in there, and it’s starving to death. I’m not going to let that happen. I didn’t agree to this stunt because I was bored. I agreed because you wanted me to. Because you knew I wouldn’t stop until I’d had you.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to take you against your will. I’m not even going to try to convince you. I’m going to wait until you beg me.”

  “I won’t.”

  He let go of her right hand and cupped her between her legs, the intimacy shocking her. “You’re on fire already,” he said. “And we haven’t even begun.”

  She closed her eyes, turned her head to the side, not willing to look at him even in the darkness. Because she was on fire.

  CHASE LET HER GO for all the wrong reasons. Touching her was meant to shock her. He hadn’t been prepared for a jolt of his own. It was all he could do not to take her, right here, right now.

  He didn’t like this. Not a bit. He never lost control. Not in a race, not with a woman. He steered the course—alone. He wasn’t blind to his need to be in charge. It was all about power, and the illusion that the world didn’t give one damn about him or his plans.

  But with this one—this slip of a girl—something was going wrong. When he’d kissed her, it was bad enough. The taste of her, the way her shy tongue finally touched his, t
hreatened his control in a way he’d never imagined. He felt almost…helpless.

  And then when he’d touched her, felt her heat, imagined her naked up against that concrete wall in the middle of the city as he thrust into her over and over—

  She gasped, and he realized he’d leaned forward again, his erection straining for release, pressing against her body as if she’d let him in.

  “Chase,” she murmured, her voice soft and trembling. “Please.”

  “See what you do to me?” he said, lowering his lips to the shell of her ear. “You want this as much as I do.”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  She didn’t take the bait. Her chest rose and fell against his, her breasts teasing him to the edge of his endurance. And then she moved her head, slowly, until her lips brushed his. He tasted her breath as she whispered, “No.”

  5

  “WELL?”

  Jamie didn’t look up. Instead, she studied the commercial lineup for the evening as if it were a matter of life and death.

  “I can wait here as long as you can. Longer. I don’t have a show in ten minutes.”

  Jamie raised one brow, then let her gaze follow. “We had dinner.”

  “Where?”

  “A restaurant.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “Marcy, I don’t want to talk about it. The whole thing is one big charade, and I’m counting the seconds until it’s over.”

  “So something did happen last night.”

  Jamie gripped her papers tighter so her hands couldn’t get to Marcy’s throat. “Nothing happened. It was dinner. We chatted. We walked. He went home. I went home. The end.”

  “He didn’t make a move on you?”

  Jamie looked at her papers again, trying to find where she’d left off. “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “Hey.”

  “Honey, I took a lot of cockamamy courses at NYU. One of them was on body language. And you are not telling me the truth.”

  “Okay. Fine. Have it your way. He kissed me.”

  “That’s better.” Marcy slid her right hip onto Jamie’s desk and leaned forward. “Details, please.”