by Olivia Logan
Wrapping her arms around her, she turned toward him, no sound forthcoming as she stood a nose breadth away from his stark white tux shirt and forced herself to look up at his eyes traveling over her face, locking onto her mouth. Her lips parted slightly of their own will before reality kicked in with a heart-pounding thump.
“I know what the hinge factor is in the deal,” she blurted out, if only to avoid dwelling on what she wanted to happen. She had to keep a clear head. She should have stuck to her plan and told him the information, then pleaded illness and left the yacht. Should have. Two little words that equaled a large amount of trouble in her book.
“What?” His sharp tone made her cringe, and she pulled the coat further around her, groaning inwardly as the smell she was trying hard to forget was now embedding itself slowly into her clothes. Great, just great.
“I said, I know what the hinge factor is in the deal,” she repeated slowly, even though the slow and steady approach was probably annoying the golden beast in front of her further.
“Yes, I heard you. But how do you know?”
“What does that matter? Do you want the upper hand or not here?”
“Corporate espionage is illegal, CJ.”
“Corporate what? Look, I hardly snuck into Nasser’s office and looked at the files, did I? Unless you suddenly became deaf at dinner or successfully tuned them out, there were two men at the table discussing the deal—and before you say everyone was, these two men were discussing the ins and outs. In perfect French. Which no one it seemed was able to understand except Nasser and ... yours truly.” She waited for the eureka light to dawn on Jack’s face at this added piece of news.
“So are you telling me you know whom Nasser is going to choose?”
“No. At this point, you both are still the main contenders. What I am telling you is, I know what he wants to see in the business plans apparently neither of you have shown him yet.”
“You know what that is?”
“Yes.” Finally, they were getting somewhere. “That’s why I tried to get you alone. Not to ... you know. Besides ... where was I? Yes, so I know what he wants to see.”
“And you are willing to share this with me because ...”
Ok, she was more than surprised. His accusatory tone was not an over-the-moon response.
“Because that way I can get off this damn boat and back to my life. Team effort, remember? I help you improve your image and land this deal, and you help me bump up my ratings.”
“That was the deal, but as far as I am aware, this is only date six, so technically you are reneging on the terms.”
“Dates I agreed to, yes. This isn’t a date. It’s a business dinner that wasn’t in the Ts and Cs. Furthermore, the last time I checked, a date was between two people who sat next to each other and talked. In which case, I’ve had a lovely date with two men. Both of whom entertained me with stories about their lovely wives and children. That will make a great tweet, don’t you think?” she bit out, unable to hide the sarcasm from her voice. “And FYI, the fact that I could even find out that information for you will negate the rest of the dates as far as I’m concerned. You finally get the deal and I get my ratings.”
“And if I don’t ask for the information?” he demanded.
What the ...! “Why wouldn’t you? I thought this was what you wanted. If not, what the hell do you want, Jack Harper?”
• • •
Her words cut through him like a hot knife in butter, piercing that place he had managed to keep locked away since his father chose to believe his ex-stepmother over him. Since that time when, in his youthful egotism, Jack thought he was the golden boy everyone doted on instead of hanging him out to dry. Why had he thought of that now?
Yes, he wanted the deal but he wanted something else. CJ was a bright scarlet flame, heating him, drawing him to her, making him burn for the one thing he knew was off limits if the deal was to succeed.
And yet now she was offering him what he had worked his ass off over the years to achieve: the answer to making the deal his. His business teams had worked overnight, pulling together proposals, making counteroffers, and yet in one fell swoop, she had the answer to what his whole team couldn’t solve and was handing it to him on a plate. So why the hell was he saying no?
She was right about one thing. The knowledge to cement the deal would negate any further dates, any further dealings between them. This was what they, he, wanted. Why should the thought of not speaking to her, not seeing those bright blue eyes flash angrily after he had made a comment she did not agreed with, make a sharp knife twist in his stomach? He had learned the hard way that women and business did not mix. Only his brother had known how long it had taken to scrub down the sting of his father’s rejection. And Brice took that knowledge to the grave.
“Jack! Are you even listening to me? Great. Now we’ve got company,” CJ said grimly.
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he felt her tense before she relaxed against him. The soft strands of her hair fluttered gently on the night breeze, tickling his chin, the smell of vanilla wafting up to greet him, stretching his nerves tauter.
He turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, his narrowed gaze flicking between the guests, resting quickly on the man standing between him and his future.
“Nasser, CJ is not feeling well. We are going to have to leave.”
Ignoring the small squeak of protest from his “patient,” he maneuvered her around the surrounding crowd, unwilling to wait to be dismissed by the grand puppeteer of the show.
Her body molded perfectly against his. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He had wanted her from the first moment he marched into that dingy studio she ruled over as an agony aunt queen. It was more than want. It was need, and not just for the deal. The realization made him stop short.
“About time we stopped! What the hell is wrong with you tonight?” His hand fell to his side as she pushed him away, swiveling around to face him. “First you turn down the information that is literally a dealmaker. Then you tell Nasser I’m sick and virtually carry me from the boat. Is this a new strategy I don’t know about, or have you completely lost your senses?”
Her cheeks glowed in the brightness of the limo headlights behind her, her hair mussed from her haste to push away from him.
“This is no new strategy, CJ. We are going back to the hotel now.” That was final.
He watched through hooded lids as her lips opened then closed again, confusion and annoyance dancing across her face as she turned toward the limo, shuffling as far from him across the seats as she could.
Strategy. She thought he had a strategy. A grim smile pulled at his face. He wished. He groaned into the darkness, the shadow next to him starting at the sound.
“Since I’m not sick, the question is are you all right?” The concern in her voice made him bark out loud, the unusual sound bringing the light blue gaze of the quiet shadow in the corner around to face him fully.
He hadn’t been all right since she had stepped into his life, or more correctly, over his air waves. The final part of this deal should have been a breeze, and yet here he was, in the limo instead of on the yacht sipping champagne and completing the deal of his life.
After the car rolled gently to a stop, he stepped out, anger rolling through him at the sudden flash from a nearby camera, followed by more flashes and the sound of his name carrying on the air.
“How do you feel about Lulu’s wedding, Jack?”
“Jack, any comment on the wedding of your ex-stepmom?”
The voices were loud and grating. The wedding had been today? He’d forgotten. Or cared too little to notice. Strange how that had dominated his mind for so long leading up to the deal. A deal dinner he had just walked out on.
A jolt of electricity burned him at the unexpected touch of her hand against his, and he reached down, pulling her to him and wrapping his arm around her waist. She fit easily in his arms as he knew she would, and he turned his back to the onsla
ught of flashes, part walking, part carrying her to his private lift.
“Well, that was a surprise.”
Her breath was warm against his shirt.
“Jack, I think it’s safe to put me down now. And I should probably say thank you for shielding me from them.” Her voice was soft in the quiet of the lift, the sounds outside muffled by the thick glass walls, and he let his hands drop away even as they burned to bring her closer.
“I don’t want your gratitude, CJ.” His low, defeated growl only served to make her raise her eyebrows incredulously.
“Right. So you don’t want my gratitude, and despite the terms of this wager, after tonight you clearly don’t want my help. So, once again I ask you. What exactly do you want?”
He dragged a hand through his hair, turning from the sights he had seen a million times before to the woman he had never laid eyes on until seven dates ago. A sight that never seemed to leave his mind and dragged words from him he had never had to say, never needed to say, never wanted to say.
“You. I want you.”
Chapter 10
“This is going in circles!” Really, the man was as dense as he was good looking. “What exactly do you want from me, because goodness knows it’s not ...”
Any further words, exclamations, noises, were silenced as his mouth covered hers. She was lost. Lost in him as she had been the first time she saw Jack, lost as she had been the first time his lips had touched hers.
All rational thoughts flew into orbit, never to return, and she forced her eyes open as cold air hit her face, the butterflies that had inhabited her stomach now taking flight at the look in his eyes.
“As I was saying, I want just you.” The raw edge in his words rippled over her burning skin.
“This ... this is crazy,” she managed to murmur, forcing her lips to make the words, her brain registering her mouth moving even while her body decided to move closer, her feet slipping from the restrictive, ridiculous shoes. “This isn’t part of the wager, in fact ...”
“Screw the wager.” His lips descended over hers once more, their exquisite softness melting her insides as she felt herself lifted into the air and, a few moments later, the soft feel of the bed against her back.
So this was what they had been talking about. All her callers and friends who said their partners’ kisses caused their insides to go all gooey. She liked it. She liked it a lot. And wanted more.
This was insane! The old CJ Stratt would never do this.
But then the old CJ Stratt never had someone like Jack Harper call her beautiful. Her breath hitched in her throat as the bed dipped under his weight, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the alien sensations rushing through her as Jack removed her clothes slowly. This space in time, just the two of them. This was the moment she’d waited for her whole life. His sharp hiss forced her eyes open.
His features were unreadable in the light, and she felt a chill begin to settle where once there had been fire and passion. Seconds breathed by. Seconds in which the moment of ecstasy passed.
The distance he put between them as he reached for his clothes may as well have been miles. Grabbing for the nearest means of cover, CJ frowned as her hand encountered a pillow; she rolled her eyes, pulling it to her. She blinked suddenly as the side lamps flickered on, bathing the room in a warm honey glow but doing nothing to ease the cold forming around her heart at the flint hard look in his eyes where he stood in the corner of the room, glaring down at her.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
• • •
A virgin!
Jack rubbed a hand across his eyes, anger rolling through him at his body’s refusal to obey him and turn away, instead choosing to focus on the fact she only had a pillow covering her, her eyes wide and dark in the faint glow of the lights.
“How is that even possible?” he ground out, unable to manufacture an answer to his own question in any way, shape or form. Not surprising, the woman on the bed answered it for him.
“Despite what you may or may not think, there is no age limit when a girl has to lose her virginity.”
His eyes narrowed at the quiver in her voice she was trying valiantly to hide, his brain flicking quickly through the Rolodex of emotions in his head. Baffled. That was the only word he seized. That and angry. Angry at her that she hadn’t told him sooner. Angry at himself that the existence he had been living, up until now, up until her, had been smashed to rubble.
Opening his mouth, he shut it again quickly when no sound came out. For the first time—no, scratch that, second time—in his life, he was speechless. The first time he had been a baby at age twenty and accused of trying to seduce, then attack his father’s new young wife.
“So why didn’t you tell me?” Her earlier sarcastic reply wasn’t worth acknowledging.
Her light brows puckered into a contemplative frown, as if he has asked her when the next train was.
“It’s not exactly the sort of thing that was brought up in the Ts and Cs of the wager, now was it? And this isn’t some archaic contract where you ask for a declaration of my virginity before we commit ourselves to working together,” she replied, meeting his gaze without flinching.
His jaw ached from its locked position. He made it a point never to be any woman’s first. It made things too complicated, too involved, and he neither wanted nor desired any of those things.
This didn’t explain her champion-like ability to ski or speak fluent French, but it certainly did explain why she was so jumpy around him. Though, he smiled grimly to himself, it didn’t cover why he was so wired around her. He prided himself on being able to read people. That was one of his business strengths. This he hadn’t seen coming.
“Why me?” His voice was quiet in the sudden stillness of the room.
Her lashes fluttered lower, like small, delicate butterflies over her cheeks, her eyes dropping to the pillow she held tightly to her, the pale line of her throat swallowing visibly under his scrutiny.
“It had to go eventually, didn’t it, so why not you?” She raised her eyes back to his, her words cold and exact.
Why not me? Why not someone else? The thought of her with someone else made him see red. The gut twisting, alien feeling of jealousy made him freeze, and he dragged a hand through his hair.
“Damn it, CJ! That’s bull and you know it.”
“Is it? What exactly do you want to hear, Jack?”
“The truth!” The truth that, up till now, he had managed to convince himself he always knew. He was no longer the naive, egotistical youth who flew through life on his looks and charm alone.
Jack watched through hooded eyes as she maneuvered her way across the bed, dragging the cover overlay with her, wrapping it around herself.
The sheet floated out lightly behind her as she made her way toward the window, its stark whiteness lending her a mythical quality like a Greek goddess deigned to come down from on high to prove to him that despite his reputation, he was nothing more than a mere mortal who would suffer for his acts.
“The truth?” she said, her voice pensive. A sad, half smile pulled at her full lips, her feet still moving, placing greater distance between them.
“The truth is, despite being able to give romantic advice, I never really had much time for it myself. Too busy helping others. That and ...” She stopped, her pearly white teeth nibbling slowly, thoughtfully on her bottom lip, before inhaling audibly. “No one wanted to sleep with me.”
No one wanted to sleep with her? He swallowed back the snort of incredulous laughter at the pain in her eyes.
“Seriously, no one did. Okay, so I had one serious-ish boyfriend but it—the other stuff, I mean—was never really enjoyable so I never ... you know. And I guess it didn’t exactly help that I never put myself out there to really meet anyone. Unlike some people, I don’t see it as my life’s ambition to become global headlines for my sexual escapades.”
Folding his arms across his chest, he let the insult slide. From the r
igid set of her shoulders, he had a gut instinct something was amiss. And he had learned never to ignore his gut instincts.
“Why does it even bother you so much anyway? It’s not as if this affects the wager in any way, shape or form, especially as I gave you the open sesame ticket to Nasser’s riches,” she said baldly.
The sudden change of direction threw him and he stepped forward, halting as she shuffled backward under his gaze.
“Despite my reputation of global sex-capades, I don’t provide stud services for virgins as a general rule,” he shot back.
“So I’m the exception to the rule?”
“Accidentally, yes, and you still haven’t answered my question. Where is the truth, straight up, CJ style?”
Something he couldn’t define moved across her face, her breath a soft, low blow in the still room as she turned toward the window.
• • •
This was it. It was now or never.
Squeezing the cover tighter around her, trying to ward off the past, CJ drew in a deep breath.
“I’ve stayed in golden orb hotels before. Not this one I grant you, but quite a few like it. It was always one of my ... my mother’s favorite. I think she liked it because she knew the press would, at least back in the day, be allowed access, providing her with attention she felt was her right. The Stratton-Porter name seemed to work its own magic.” She stopped, catching his reflection in the large windows.
“Stratton-Porter?” His voice seemed to come from miles away. Miles from where she wanted to be. Ghosts from her past surrounded her, threatening to overwhelm her. Drawing in a steadying breath, she lifted her chin as regally as she could. To the U.K. night listeners, she was CJ Stratt. But thanks to her heritage, a part of her would always be Camilla-Jane Stratton-Porter.
“Yes, Stratton-Porter. You asked me once what CJ is short for. It’s Camilla. Camilla-Jane Stratton-Porter. Sadly for my family, the only heir to the Stratton-Porter estates and all its lands.” A world with invisible strings she had managed to break, reveling in her freedom. It was a world she thankfully no longer inhabited, a world in which he did.