Bedded by a Playboy

by Heidi Rice

  ‘This looks great, Shelby.’ He smiled at the girl, reading the name off the blue tag on her uniform. Jessie watched the waitress flush again before she rushed off.

  ‘What sort of things do you paint?’ Jessie asked quietly as Monroe concentrated on drowning his plate in syrup.

  He didn’t reply. She waited as he swallowed a generous helping of pancakes and syrup. He nodded towards her plate. ‘You not hungry?’

  ‘I was just wondering about what you paint,’ she repeated, feeling a little foolish now but determined to get an answer out of him.

  ‘I haven’t done any yet.’

  ‘Yes, but, when you have, what will you paint?’

  ‘They don’t taste as good cold, you know,’ he said, looking at her plate again.

  Jessie remained silent. He wasn’t meeting her eyes. Why was he being so evasive? But as she watched him take a sip from his coffee it occurred to her. He was shy about his artwork. It seemed so unlikely, but it was the only answer that made sense. The thought made him seem vulnerable, all of a sudden, maybe even a little bit sweet.

  She waited. Finally, he stopped eating, turned to her. ‘Look, it’s no big deal, all right? It’s just a dumb hobby.’

  ‘I’m still curious what sort of painting you do. I mean, is it abstract, expressionism, more traditional like portraiture, landscapes? I’m really interested in art. Looking at it, appreciating it, visiting art galleries—those are a few of my dumb hobbies.’

  He let out a breath, put down his fork. He was shy. He looked almost as uncomfortable now as when Ali had identified him at the pool the day before.

  ‘It’s mostly people, landscapes, any stuff that catches my eye and I want to put it on canvas. But you won’t see any of it in an art gallery, that’s for sure.’ He eyed her plate again. ‘If you don’t want them, I’ll eat them.’

  ‘Okay, okay, I’ll eat them.’ Jessie picked up the maple syrup and swirled it over her stack, feeling ridiculously pleased that she’d managed to get him to talk about his artwork. After finishing a mouthful, she smiled at him, her mouth sticky. ‘Mmm, these are delicious.’

  Licking her lips, she caught the quick flick of his eyes down to her mouth. Her belly tightened. Okay, so maybe sweet wasn’t quite the right word for him.

  Having insisted on paying for their pancakes and leaving what Jessie thought was an excessive tip for the smitten Shelby, Monroe guided her out of the coffee shop.

  Given that he lived on a shoestring and had very few possessions, she thought it odd that he was so generous with his money. She began to feel a little ashamed about what she’d said to Ali yesterday. He might be poor, but he was no deadbeat.

  She had watched his hands while they ate. Long, thin fingers and wide palms—they were really beautiful. He had an artist’s hands. She wondered again about what sort of things he painted. He’d neatly steered the conversation away from his artwork after she’d started eating and she’d let him, even though the subject intrigued her enormously. Not just because she loved art, but because his unwillingness to speak about it had made him seem a lot less cocksure and confident.

  She could feel the pressure on the small of her back from his palm as he steered her out of the diner. She couldn’t ignore the warmth in her middle at the contact. He still made her nervous. Men as good-looking as he was would always make her feel a little inadequate. Then there was that aura of wildness and danger about him that was unlike anyone she had ever known before. But she had to admit that he was starting to fascinate her.

  They walked across the street in silence, but as they reached the bike Jessie remembered her bare legs. ‘Would you mind waiting a minute while I go and put my jeans back on?’

  He glanced at her legs. ‘Sure. Seems like a shame, though.’

  She was busy quelling the little flutter of excitement at his words when she spotted a familiar face coming out of the grocery store. ‘Oh, no.’

  Monroe gave her a quizzical look as he opened the saddlebags on the back of the Harley. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘It’s Bradley Dexter. I don’t want him to spot me,’ Jessie whispered as she ducked behind Monroe.

  Bradley Dexter III was the son of Linc and Ali’s nearest neighbour. Pampered and idle, he thought his red sports car was an extension of his personality and had turned out to be as persistent as a woodworm after Jessie had met him on the beach a few weeks before. She might be hard up, but she was not that hard up.

  Jessie realised she was too late to avoid another annoying encounter, though, when the well-muscled young man in the surfer’s standard uniform of board shorts and vest-top walked up to them. ‘Hiya, Jessie. How’ya doing?’

  Monroe heard the sigh from behind him before Jessie appeared at his side.

  ‘Hello, Bradley.’

  ‘We’ve got a beach party going tonight at the Sunspot. You wanna come along?’ The guy’s eyes dipped down Jessie’s frame in a way Monroe didn’t like one bit. ‘You could wear that bitching little bikini I saw you in last week.’

  Monroe thought he could hear Jessie’s teeth grinding together. ‘That’s nice of you, Bradley, but I think I’m busy.’ She touched Monroe’s arm. ‘This is Monroe, by the way. Monroe Latimer—he’s Linc’s brother.’

  Bradley gave Monroe an absent glance. ‘Sure, nice to meet you, dude. I guess you could come, too. But I get first dibs on the babe here.’ He winked at Jessie, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. Seeing Jessie blush and stiffen, Monroe felt his anger rise.

  He put a firm hand on Jessie’s hip and pulled her to his side. Ignoring her quick intake of breath, he gave Bradley a sharp stare.

  ‘I don’t think so, dude.’ He had the surfer’s attention now. ‘I don’t share.’

  Bradley stepped back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. ‘Sure, man, no problem.’ He gave Jessie a nervous wave, his gaze fixed on Monroe. ‘See ya ’round, Jess,’ he said and scurried off.

  ‘What was that about?’ Jessie shrugged off Monroe’s arm.

  ‘I was getting rid of Bradley the wolf for you.’

  ‘I don’t need your protection, thank you.’

  Miserably embarrassed, Jessie stepped past Monroe but was pulled up short when he put his hands on her hips, tugged her into his arms. ‘He’s looking back,’ he whispered in her ear as he nuzzled her neck. Shock waves shot through her whole system. ‘Let’s show him we mean business.’

  ‘What?’

  Jessie had no chance to react. No chance to register his intent. Strong fingers combed through her hair, angled her head slightly and then his lips were on hers. The move was so smooth, so fluid, Jessie could only gasp before his mouth covered hers.

  The contact was electric. His mouth was firm and commanding on hers, his tongue exploring and then retreating in a clever rhythm that robbed her of thought. He kept one hand on her head, anchoring her to him, while the other swept down, moulding her curves before settling firmly on her bottom and pulling her even closer.

  The rough feel of his jeans against her legs, the strong, solid feel of his chest against her breasts were so unyielding she felt as if she were being smothered. Her response though was unstoppable. Her mouth opened wider as her tongue tangled with his. He lifted his head for a moment and her breath gushed out, but then his lips were back on hers again. His teeth bit into her bottom lip. She began to pant, feeling dazed, delirious.

  Then, suddenly, it was over.

  ‘There.’ His voice sounded dim because of the blood pounding in her ears. ‘That ought to convince him.’

  Jessie blinked up at him, her face flooding with heat as she registered the words through the fog of arousal. It was as if she’d been doused with ice water. She shoved him, her arms still shaking from need. ‘You bastard.’

  He held onto her arm. ‘What’s wrong, Red?’

  She was so angry she could have spat at him. He was smiling at her, as if it had all been a game. The terrible tug of need and desire still throbbing in her belly only made her feel more humiliated. �
��You had no right…’ Her voice shook. ‘You had no right to do that.’

  Monroe could see the sheen of moisture in her eyes and hated himself for it. He wanted to taste her again. God, he wanted to strip her naked and bury himself inside her. Her response to the simple kiss had been electrifying. He was hard as a rock and throbbing painfully in his jeans. It was a major struggle to keep the carefree smile on his face. ‘I was just trying to help you out with Bradley. What’s the big deal?’

  It was a lie. He’d wanted to kiss her ever since he’d laid eyes on her. That he’d been unable to resist her wasn’t something he wanted to admit, though, even to himself.

  ‘I didn’t ask for your help.’ Jessie’s words came out on a broken sob. Desperate not to let him see her break, she struggled out of his grasp.

  ‘No harm done. It was just a little kiss.’

  He made it sound like nothing at all. It would only make her seem like an idiot if she let him see how much more it had meant to her. Biting her lip to keep the tears back, Jessie gripped the strap of her bag with unsteady fingers. She had to get away from him.

  He tucked a finger under her chin, his eyes clouded with concern. ‘Hey, I’m sorry.’

  Was that pity in his eyes? Jessie pushed his hand away, forced her eyes to go flat and remote. ‘It’s okay, Monroe.’ She’d made enough of a spectacle of herself already. ‘Like you said, it was nothing.’ She whirled away from him.

  As Jessie walked towards the public restrooms she kept her head high, her back ramrod straight, but couldn’t stop the silent tears of humiliation rolling down her cheeks.

  The journey back to the house was agony for both of them.

  As Jessie clung onto the back of the bike, refusing to hold onto Monroe, she felt none of the thrill from the earlier journey into town.

  All she could think about was the kiss they’d shared. It had been like no other kiss she’d ever had before. She’d made love before with less excitement.

  Why had she responded to him like that?

  It was mortifying and, what was worse, it had meant less than nothing to him. ‘What’s the big deal?’—that was what he’d said. He must have kissed loads of women before her and she hadn’t measured up very well. He hadn’t even insisted that she hold onto him on the ride back as he’d done on the way there. She felt angry with him and humiliated, but worse, much worse, was the feeling of rejection that she couldn’t seem to shake no matter how hard she tried. Why should she care what a womanising ex-con thought of her? But the problem was she did care.

  Monroe wanted to kick himself for his stupidity. Why the hell had he kissed her? Now he knew what she tasted like, what she felt like in his arms, he was going to have a hell of a time keeping his hands off her.

  He had to keep his hands off her.

  He slept with women for mutual pleasure, for kicks, but it could never mean anything deeper than that. He never got involved with anyone who might mean more to him. That was the way he lived; that was the way he had to live. Free and easy. No commitments, no ties.

  The way she’d looked at him after the kiss, the shattered horror in her eyes had touched a place inside him he’d never even admitted existed. The woman was bad news all round. He was going to have to keep well clear of her. But how the hell was he going to do that, when he wanted her so damn much?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘JESS?’

  ‘Over here, Al.’ Jessie poked her head round the kitchen counter as her sister waddled into view.

  ‘Do you think you could get Emmy for me? I’m so tired.’

  Seeing the exhaustion on her sister’s face, Jessie dashed over and took her arm. ‘Sit down, for goodness’ sake.’ She guided Ali towards the sofa. ‘Where is Emmy? I thought she was with Linc.’

  ‘He’s working today, some crisis at the New York office.’ Ali settled into the cushions and gave a hefty sigh. ‘Emmy’s been camped over at Monroe’s all morning.’

  Jessie frowned. ‘But I thought she went over to see him yesterday.’

  ‘And the day before that.’ Ali paused to rub her back. ‘She’s been helping him fix the BMW. You wouldn’t believe the state of her clothes when she got back yesterday. I was worried Monroe might be getting tired of having her hanging around. But I think he was actually pleased to see her this morning.’ She smiled, her eyes warm. ‘Anyway, I thought maybe you could go rescue him, as lunch is nearly ready.’

  ‘Um.’ Jessie felt trapped.

  She’d been avoiding Monroe for over a week. If the humiliating memory of their kiss wasn’t bad enough, the fact that she’d been reliving it in her dreams every night had made it all seem so much worse. She still wasn’t ready to see him again. But Ali looked shattered. She couldn’t very well refuse such a simple request.

  Jessie arranged the sandwiches she’d made on the table, tried to steady her breathing. ‘I’ll go get her in a minute, Al.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask Monroe if he wants to come over for the barbecue tonight?’ Ali said from the sofa. ‘I haven’t been able to tempt him with any of my invitations so far, but maybe the promise of a medium-rare steak will do the trick.’

  Jessie’s cheeks coloured. She’d rather gnaw off her own foot than ask Monroe over for the family’s evening barbecue. All she needed was his smouldering looks over the charcoal to put her right off her own steak.

  She rustled up a sweet smile for Ali as she slipped on her sandals. ‘Will do.’

  It was an effort for Jessie not to curse out loud as she marched across the lawn to the garage apartment. She was just pondering how she could get away with not giving him Ali’s dinner invitation when she heard the delighted peal of Emmy’s laughter, followed by a gruff masculine chuckle.

  Rounding the side of the garage, she spotted Monroe’s long jeans-clad legs sticking out from under the car. All she could see of Emmy were two pink sneakers wiggling furiously.

  Should she be shocked or amazed that he actually had her five-year-old niece doubling as a car mechanic?

  There was a loud clanging sound.

  ‘Hey, hold on there, kid.’

  ‘Sorry. Did I break it?’ Emmy’s feet went still.

  Monroe’s reply wasn’t annoyed, just amused. ‘Nah. It’s tougher than that, but just remember what I said.’

  ‘Treat the car with respect and it’ll respect you back.’ Emmy said the words as if reciting holy scripture.

  ‘You got it. You want to finish it?’

  ‘Can I?’

  Jessie frowned at the adoring tone of her niece’s voice. Did every single female within a ten-mile radius have to fall at his feet?

  ‘Go for it.’ She heard Emmy’s childish grunt before Monroe’s deep voice continued. ‘That’s it, kid. You’re a great mechanic. Why don’t you haul out? I’ll be right behind you.’

  Jessie stepped back as Emmy crawled out from under the car.

  ‘Oh, Aunt Jessie, Aunt Jessie.’ Emmy leapt in the air. Her face, which was smudged with what could only be axle grease, glowed with excitement. ‘I did a lube job. It was way cool. Uncle Roe showed me, he let me do it all by myself.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, Emmy.’ Jessie tried to sound enthusiastic but couldn’t help wincing at the huge oil stain all over her niece’s favourite Barbie T-shirt. ‘We better go get you washed up before lunch.’

  ‘Do I have to go?’ Emmy’s chin hit her chest. ‘Uncle Roe said I could have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with him today.’

  Jessie was just wondering how to deal with that request when the man himself slid out from under the car and got to his feet. Her heart thudded in her chest at the sight of him, tall and lean in ragged denim and faded cotton. She could feel her face getting hot at the long look he gave her and wanted to scream.

  ‘Hi, Red.’ There was that stupid nickname again. The heat in her face increased.

  ‘Hello, Monroe.’

  Jessie was grateful when Emmy tugged on his jeans, distracting him.

  ‘Jessie says I’ve got to
go now, but I want to have lunch with you.’

  He kneeled down, gave the little girl a serious look as she rested her hands on his shoulders. ‘Don’t sweat it. We can do that another time.’

  Jessie saw Emmy had left grubby fingerprints all over him, but Monroe didn’t seem to notice as he held onto the little girl and stood up. The shadow of emotion crossed his face. For a moment he seemed lost in thought, but then his eyes focused on Jessie and he gave her a slow smile that made her feel unpleasantly warm.

  ‘We’ll go clean up,’ he said. ‘You want to come up and grab a drink?’

  The statement sounded casual, but they both knew it was an olive branch.

  Jessie wanted to stay mad at him; the memory of the kiss they’d shared still loomed large between them. But having seen the tender, thoughtful way he handled Emmy and the beaming grin on her niece’s face as she clung to his neck, she just couldn’t do it.

  ‘That would be nice, thanks.’

  As he turned to heft the little girl up the stairs to his apartment, Jessie wondered at this new, nurturing side of him she never would have expected. She followed them up the steps, trying to stop her eyes from straying to the very nice male butt displayed in front of her in worn denim.

  Entering the apartment, Monroe let Emmy scramble down out of his arms. ‘You know where the soap is, kid.’

  ‘Yes, Uncle Roe.’ She shot him an impish grin and scampered off to the bathroom.

  Monroe felt an answering squeeze on his heart. He didn’t have any experience with kids, but Linc’s daughter had really gotten to him in the last few days.

  He wasn’t supposed to be making any attachments. He was just passing through. But when the little girl had hugged him round the neck a few minutes ago and settled so easily into his arms, the trust and adoration in her eyes had made his heart hurt in a way that couldn’t be good

  Of course, the sight of Emmy’s auntie, looking gorgeous and irritated, hadn’t exactly made the emotional punch any easier to deal with.