Jane sensed exhaustion creeping up on her, and she couldn’t have that. Burnout was what happened to other people; bond traders… . She had to be able to cover Haya for a couple months. Resolutely, she peeled off her clothes, dumped them in the laundry hamper, and put on her swimsuit.The pool in the yard would do fine. It was a blisteringly hot day, and she would cool off and work out at the same time.
Tomorrow this house would go on the market. Sally and Haya were already moving. This place was cute, but far too small, and she could now afford to upgrade, Part of GLAMOUR was the fantasy, anyway; of course the owners had to live well.They were the brand, as Donald Trump had learned.
She plunged into the pool. Man, she loved exercise. It was the one time when she could totally focus on herself.The physical effort forced her to clear her head. Figures, money, deals just melted away.Without exercise, she thought she might crack. Jane swam twenty laps, reveling in the movement of the water against her body, then propelled herself lazily up to the steps in the shallow water and slowly walked out of the pool, reaching for her towel….
“Good evening.”
She gave a little shriek. Craig Levin was sitting there, on her sun lounger, dressed in a lightweight summer suit. His gaze ran quickly across her body before she wrapped it in a towel.
“What are you doing here?” Jane snapped.
“I called, I faxed, I e-mailed. No reply.” He grinned. “Started to think you were ducking me, Miss Morgan.”
She had been. “I was busy,” Jane extemporized. “Start-up time …”
“I noticed.” He inclined his head. “I do have three million dollars in your store. And ten percent of the company. Which I believe makes me the major nonowner shareholder.”
“The only one,” Jane conceded.
“And it appears I’ll be getting a nice return on that ten percent.”
He certainly would.
“I’ll buy your shares,” she said. “Four million dollars, and you make a million profit in six months.”
“Now why would I sell something for four that’s worth five now and, I strongly suspect, twenty or thirty in a couple of years?” Levin asked coolly. “If you were me, would you sell?”
Jane had to shake her head. “No.”
“Then don’t ask foolish questions.”
She stood there, dripping, water from her soaked hair streaming down her back, her feet naked on the hot tiles. Nothing but a towel between Levin and her nude thighs; her suit was high-cut, with a hole across the belly; she understood clearly that he had an excellent idea of her body, right now, down to the flat of her stomach and the swell of her breasts.
Levin was clothed, wearing a smart pair of shoes and a paisley tie; they looked good on such a young man.
“I have to get dressed,” she muttered.
He spread his hands.“Nobody’s stopping you. But please don’t bother on my account.”
Jane fled into her bedroom and whisked the curtains closed.
Five minutes later she was back out there again, wet hair combed through, her feet in stacked mules, wearing the closest thing to hand—a sample of one of Sally’s new summer dresses; it had spaghetti straps and a close-fitting bodice, with a light skirt that fluted prettily around her knees.
“Nice,” Levin said, making her wish she’d added a shawl. Only it was just too hot.
“Can I get you some iced tea?” Jane was flustered. “I have a jug in the fridge.”
“Thank you,” he said, to her discomfiture. It meant that he was going to stay. And that she would have to fetch him the tea. A small act, but one he somehow imbued with meaning.
At least she was out of her swimsuit. Jane fetched him, and herself, a large glass of tea choked with ice and a slice of lime in it.
“Delicious,” he said. “Unsweetened.”
“I’m watching my figure,” Jane confessed.
Levin shook his head. “No need. Believe me.”
“So what can I do for you?” she asked, as briskly as she could under the circumstances.
“I want daily accounts sent to my office.”
“You can’t have them.”
“I own ten percent. I want a seat on the board.”
“Can’t have it.Talk to your lawyer.”
“If you want my money for expansion, you’ll cooperate.”
Jane shrugged. “I think the banks will be ready to talk to me, now.”
He grinned. “I think so, too. But you won’t be able to do the mom-and-pop thing forever, you know. Even Branson went public. And when you do, I’ll be there with my checkbook.”
“And until that time, I’ll send you a monthly summary,” Jane said. “And we’ll be repaying your loan early.”
Levin was still looking at her in that disturbing way.
“You do understand what I could do to the store, right? That I could take anything I wanted from you. I could have city hall ride you on parking or health and safety. I could buy out the contracts with your suppliers. I could hire away your staff by doubling their salaries and sending them on fact-finding missions to Cancun.”
His words were tough, but he was smiling at her, softly. She knew his fencing was a game.
Jane squared her shoulders. “We’d sue.”
“Whatever resources you have, throwing them at me would be like dropping a pebble into the ocean,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I have so much money that consortiums of commercial banks wouldn’t take me on.”
She gritted her teeth. “I will not let you sit on the board. I’d rather go under.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling at her. “I wouldn’t force you. But I want you to know that I can.”
“Does that usually work? Puffing out your chest like a pigeon in mating season?”
Levin laughed, delighted. She’d called him on it. Most women wouldn’t dare.
“You respect work. And success.” He made his case, and his eyes lingered on hers. “Yes, sure—I want to remind you of mine, so you stop fighting me so hard. We’re supposed to be allies. Last time I saw you, I wrote you the check that allowed this to happen. And what do I get for it? My calls—blanked. My assistant’s calls—blanked. My faxes—ignored. I’ve been treated better by companies that were my takeover targets.”
Guilty. She knew it. He knew it.
“So tell me,” he said, drawing the sentence out. Clearly enjoying himself. “Do you treat all your benefactors this way?”
She tried to think of a comeback.
“So why me? You know I could have been of greater assistance. More money. Contacts. An advertising budget.You should now have full pages in Vogue and Elle.”
“I apologize,” Jane said, blushing. “I should have been more responsive.”
“My question is why you weren’t.”
She tried “I’ve been so busy …”
“Making hundreds of business-related calls. Just not to me.”
“I …”
“Tell the truth,” he said, grinning. “Admit it. You’ll feel better.”
Oh, man. Jane shook her head. He was too close to her, too strong. Too damn powerful. And so, so good-looking. She was briefly amazed at herself for ever having glanced at Jude Ferrers. She was made for a guy like this.
His questions were unanswerable, except with the truth. Jane surrendered.
“I—I find you attractive.”
“Better,” he said.“You know, I think that’s still legal in all fifty states.”
“And it’s best not to get involved with a colleague!” she added in a burst of inspiration.
“Now, Jane.You were doing so well. And then you relapsed.” His confident, teasing tone was so arousing; Jane could hardly look at him. Coloring, she stared at her sandals. “Shall I help you out? You’re a tough woman—and you want to stay that way. You’re frightened of me. Frightened of wanting me, frightened of my past girlfriends, frightened of being on a list. Slightly ashamed of yourself for having used my attraction to you to get this deal. Determi
ned that you’ll return my money and never see me again. Scared of any romance, any man, maybe. Thinking that one day, perhaps you’ll marry a househusband, a nice, unthreatening guy with self-esteem problems, who can give you a baby or two and then run a farm somewhere, while you bring home the bacon; somebody who’ll never challenge you …”
Jane’s eyes flashed. “Cut that out!”
Levin put his face close to hers. “Pretty near the knuckle, am I, baby?”
“I’ll tell you this. I’m never going to be used by any man.”
“But you used your stunning beauty to get to me, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Oh, yes, you did,” he said, softly. “Oh, yes, Jane, and you know it.”
She ran her tongue over her lips. Wanting to kiss him. Or run.
“You’re hard,” Levin said. “The hardest woman I’ve ever met. I have no idea why I’m chasing you like this. And no idea why you’re running.”
“I just …”
“And now I’m going to kiss you,” he said, and came forward, and she froze, couldn’t move a single muscle, and then his lips were on top of hers, hardly touching them, just brushing lightly against the skin; she could smell the scent of him, feel the strength of his torso right in front of her …
Jane was unable to help herself. He was teasing her, not taking her. Daring her to resist. Or ask for more. But her legs under the thin skirt were writhing; she was moist and hot for him; her body, so focused and tensed, melted and warmed and she moaned under her breath and surrendered, her tongue thrusting back into Levin’s mouth, her lips pressing against him, pleadingly …
He chuckled deep in his throat. Underneath her dress her body was leaping against him as he ran a hand slowly across it. Jane fell into his arms, feeling his jacket, his belt, the buttons of his shirt. Her senses felt unbelievably heightened. She wanted him so much. A voice in her head was telling her not to, to leave him alone.They hadn’t even dated. But she would not listen. His strength, his assured touch, all over her, like he owned her … she wanted it, at that moment, more than anything.
Levin kissed her again, triumphantly, and swung her into his arms; her weight was nothing to him; Jane buried her hot face in his chest, pressed her breasts against him. As he carried her through the sliding glass doors and into the coolness of her bedroom, Levin was already unbuttoning the top of her dress.
She lay naked, drained, against him. It was night now; they were both covered in sweat; Jane’s body was relaxed, as though orgasm had unknotted every muscle under her skin. She wondered if she had the energy left to move.
“Craig …”
He dropped a slow kiss on the top of her shoulder.
“At least we’ve got rid of Mr. Levin.” He laughed out loud, a deep laugh of pure pleasure. “I was lying when I said I didn’t know why I was chasing you. I knew, okay. That you were the most sensational girl I’d ever met. One in a million. And now this, now this.” He kissed her.“Man, you are just wonderful, Jane Morgan.”
Jane hung her head. “What have I done?”
“I could remind you,” he said. “If you have short-term memory problems.”
“Stop it,” she protested, smiling a little. Was it possible he could have her again? Three times, in rapid succession; he had the vitality of a teenager.
“I’m done,” he said, sighing. “At least, I think I am. You’re dangerous. It’s a good job I keep in shape.” He pulled away from her. “Let’s shower.Together.”
But Jane looked down, knotting her fingers together in the bed linen.
“Am I going to see you again?”
She was miserable now; her body felt good, but her heart was sick. This was it, exactly what she had feared. She’d wanted him, craved him, for months, and as soon as he touched her, she’d fallen into his hand like a ripe peach.
And he had made her body leap, and dance, and finally satisfied her, made her yield herself so completely that she was now helplessly and hopelessly in love with him.
But the chase was over; he’d got what he wanted. Now she was just another conquest.
Yet when she looked up at him, Craig Levin was looking right back at her. Disturbed, even upset.
“Do you think I’m that kind of man?” he asked. “Jane, I respect you. Hell, I think I’m even a little obsessed with you. I wouldn’t use you like that.”
“I don’t know,” she said.“That’s the point. I hardly know anything about you.”
Just that I want you, she did not say. Just that I have to have you. Just that I think about you all the time.
“So get in that shower by yourself,” Levin said, his eyes flickering across her naked body, dappled by the moonlight, still warm from his touch. “And then get dressed. And come with me.”
“What do you mean?” Jane asked, embarrassed to show that she was crying.
“You want to see me again? Because I want to see you, Jane.”
She nodded; he knew her intimately, knew the intensity of her response to him; there was no point trying to hide anything now.
“Then why wait? See me again now. Come home with me. Spend the night at my place.”
“We didn’t even date,” Jane said.
“So this will be our first. Dinner. I could eat. Couldn’t you? Then breakfast. And I’ll pick you up for lunch.That makes three dates in, what, eighteen hours?” He smiled at her. “I know how to play catch-up.”
She slid her long legs off the bed. Even now, when she was trying not to hope, not to get overexcited, he was leaving her no choice. Jane tried to come to terms with it; where there were two people, she could not have total control; and she was afraid of how much she liked that.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
“And you want me again. Like I want you, gorgeous.”
Levin came and sat down on the bed, and stretched his hand out; she gasped again, pressed against him.
“You’re hotter than hell,” he said. “Hotter than I’d ever imagined. And I’d imagined plenty.”
Levin gave her his hand. “Come on, Jane. Let me earn your trust.”
It was strange how shy she was. After all that passion, after all her athleticism. Levin wore the marks of her nails raked across his inner thigh, the small of his back; her own skin was covered in small, delicate bruises from his lips and teeth. Yet they were now dressed, and sitting in his dining room—or one of his dining rooms. Over the dinner table. It was a romantic setting: candlelight, Sèvres porcelain dishes, fresh flowers. But Jane felt as nervous as a teenager.
“Come on. Eat something.” Levin gestured at the slices of roast partridge, delicately fanned out in front of her, next to buttery parsnips and spinach.“If you don’t like that, the chefs can get you something else.”
“You’ve got more than one?” Jane joked.
“I’ve got five. But they rotate shifts.”
Damn. She moistened her lips.
“I’m not hungry.”
“After that, you must be.” He forked up a floury roast potato, crisp and browned around the edges, and wolfed it. “I chose this because I thought it was British. But they can get you anything you like.”
“I’m … I’m embarrassed,” she murmured, and lowered her head. Levin watched her and, to his amazement, found himself stirring again.What a woman.Why was she like this? So reserved, and so beautiful?
“Because you don’t know me? Other than in the biblical sense?”
“And the pages of Fortune,” Jane admitted.
“Ah, yes. I recall you saying you ‘admired’ me.” He grinned.“I hear that a lot. From you, it was a turn-on, though.Tell you what, I’ll make a deal.”
“A deal?”
“Eat your food. Drink some water, some juice. A glass of champagne. I don’t want you passing out on me later.”
“Later?”
“If you’re good; no promises.” She had to smile at that. “You eat, and I’ll talk. The unofficial version of my life. Then you’ll know me. Anything to ge
t you to relax.”
“Alright,” Jane said softly.
Levin was unlike any man she’d ever known; he didn’t buckle to her, or crumple in the face of her coldness. He stood firm. But he encouraged her.
She took a bite of the partridge; it was good, after all.
Craig poured himself some champagne, settled back in his chair. Smiled at her, and she felt herself unstiffen, open up to him.
He meant it. He was really going to woo her.
Starting with letting her in on his secrets.
“I don’t have a rags-to-riches story. I grew up an only child, and that’s about the only bad thing you can say of my early life. Dad worked in the Sanitation Department as an administrator; Mom was a court reporter.We had a little tract house in a decent part of Queens, back in New York, a nice car, took a vacation to the Jersey shore most summers. I had two working parents and a big extended Jewish family; we weren’t religious, but there were still plenty of weddings, bar mitzvahs, you know. Most of my friends were Jews, too.” He grinned.“I hated it, my life. Does that sound awful? Loved my folks, hated my life. It was so suburban. I felt so trapped. And at school, I was the weeny little Jew.There were bigger kids there who used to kick my ass on a regular basis. Dad wouldn’t let me quit, said I had to be tough. Good girl—now drink some wine.”
Jane took a sip. Warmth started to spread through her again, and she didn’t think it was just the alcohol.
“There had to be more. I knew it. Every time I took a subway into the city—it was the seventies, it was full of crime, and dirty, but it was so exciting. Those skyscrapers—electric. Wall Street. The big theaters,Times Square, Fifth Avenue. Manhattan was life and Queens was nothing. It was like you had your nose permanently pressed up against life’s shop window, and they wanted me to get a good union job. At the most, to get into real estate or become a school principal. I was brighter than most kids, they knew. Partly because of my memory; with a photographic memory you ace most multichoice tests. But mainly because I was good at math. Better than good. School bored the hell out of me.”
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