And he just happened to be in the mood to be one.
Keying in the commands to save the URLs of several interesting discussions, he printed a hard copy of Louis Garceau's credit report, plus those of several other guests whose financial history raised a red flag in his mind.
He would start a file on each of these guests and spend tomorrow grilling them. Even Doc Linc. Though the plastic surgeon's financial status appeared routine, his interest in Lennon had been anything but. And Josh wanted to see if Lennon pursued the husband hunt with as much enthusiasm in light of what had transpired between them tonight.
Heading into the bedroom, he steeled himself for the possibility that she was indeed the mercenary debutante that he'd first supposed. But his instincts told him differently. After spending the past few hours getting to know about her, he was convinced more than ever that there was more to Lennon than her bridegroom search might indicate.
And as he glanced upon her sleeping form in the big bed, Josh was more determined than ever to find out.
She'd erected a wall of pillows to separate her sleeping space from his, and lay curled close to the wall, apparently fast asleep. Josh smiled. Like those pillows were going to protect her from him.
He stripped, then climbed into bed, dismantling her barrier with a grin. A hard-working guy deserved a pillow or two to sleep with, right?
Though Lennon lay as close to the wall as she could get without actually wedging herself into the crack there, she obviously hadn't factored in that her bedmate was six-three and probably close to double her weight. It took only three good bounces to cause her to roll against him.
She emitted a soft sigh, but didn't wake. Josh tucked her into the folds of his body, his knees curled behind hers, her bottom warmly cradling his soon-to-be-raging erection.
She wore a cotton pajama set that she must have thought was more pragmatic than sexy, but the material was so lightweight it might not have been there at all. Josh buried his face in her hair, inhaled deeply and willed himself to enjoy the moment.
He may not want to be a husband, but he fully intended to take a stab at being Lennon's hero.
7
LENNON KNEW without opening her eyes that she hadn't slept nearly enough. Her entire body felt weighted and heavy, and a few groggy minutes passed before she realized she felt weighted and heavy primarily because of the muscular arm and thigh pinning her to the mattress.
Josh.Sometime during the night her blockade had miraculously disappeared, leaving her pressed against a sinewy male physique, the stuff romance heroes were made of. Had their nightly movements pushed the pillows away, or had Josh deliberately removed them?
Lennon didn't really want to know.
Not when she could enjoy the result relatively free from any logical arguments. Her brain was still muddled with sleep and she was far too drowsy and warm to be analytical.
Josh's even breathing suggested he was still asleep, so she didn't have to deal with him. Nope, she could just lounge in this delicious man's arms. What a way to start the day.
And to think she'd believed her editor that the romance heroes in her imagination didn't exist in real life. Josh proved those hard-muscled, bedroom-eyed, very irresistible heroes did indeed exist, primed and perfect for a grand and glorious love affair.
If she'd been in the market for an affair, of course.
The whole point of this weekend had been to scope out a suitable man. But how could Lennon pay attention to any man but the one who presently held her?
She couldn't and she knew it. She just didn't know what to do about it yet.
Enjoy the moment, she reminded herself. Enjoy the thrill of knowing this handsome man wanted her. Enjoy the feel of his arms around her. Josh's chin rested on top of her head, an anchor of sorts, one that drew her attention to just how perfectly their bodies fit together.
His broad, square shoulders and firmly muscled chest shielded her from any threat. One hard thigh braced against hers. The other he'd thrown over her legs, and along with the arm he'd wrapped around her, it effectively locked her into immobility. No doubt Josh would argue that he was protecting her, but whether that was true or not, the end result was the same--she couldn't move. Not without him knowing.
Lennon didn't want to move. There was something so delicious about lying here, his penis--not erect, yet not lifeless, either--nestled neatly against her bottom. He radiated enough heat to warm St. Louis Cathedral in a cold winter. Heat that penetrated through her pores and set her blood on fire.
Lennon had no idea how much time had passed before the expansion of the male parts wedged between her cheeks suggested she wasn't the only one dreaming about all the wild sex they might have if she'd indulge in one last fling.
"Good morning, beautiful." Josh's gravelly voice whispered against her ear. "Sleep well?"
"Well protected."
He chuckled, a low burst of throaty sound that rippled through her senses and evoked a very real shiver.
He tightened his grip around her, whether to punctuate his resolve to protect her or to take full advantage of the moment, Lennon couldn't say. Every inch of her skin was so sensitive to his touch, she had to bite back a moan.
She really shouldn't have gone so long without a lover. While writing romances was a creative outlet, it wasn't a physical one, and Lennon was a healthy woman with healthy needs.
Chalk up another positive for marriage: regular servicing of her sexual needs.
Sex without passion? Who'd want it?
The voice echoed in her head--a voice that sounded remarkably similar to Auntie Q's--and Lennon squelched it. "Would you mind letting me up?"
"You've got me lying in bed, hot and hard and ready...." He brushed his erection against her bottom again just to make sure she hadn't missed it. "And you want to get up?"
"Yes, I do."
"Ah, chere, you're breaking my heart."
"More like deflating your ego."
Josh laughed good-naturedly. "That, too." And he rolled away, leaving her gasping at the sudden absence of his body heat.
Propping himself up on an elbow, he stared down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded from sleep, the stubble along his jaw emphasizing the intimacy of the night they'd just passed together. "You want the bathroom first?"
Lennon shot a glance at the door. It was one thing to change clothes and get ready for the cocktail party together, another entirely to share the intimacy of morning showers and daytime preparations. Ugh. But any squeamishness about sharing one bathroom immediately vanished when Josh climbed out of bed.
He was naked.
Lennon had seen naked men before. She'd seen some really handsome naked men, too. And if that wasn't enough, she worked day in and day out creating absolutely flawless naked men for her readers. So she really shouldn't be rendered breathless by the sight of this one.
But she was.
Straight-legged, broad-shouldered and beautiful were the only words she could find to describe him, wordsmith though she was. He had the kind of chest that graced the covers of romance novels, all cut planes and angles and silky dark hair that arrowed to knifepoint sharpness below his navel.
Josh was clearly a physically active man, which Lennon supposed shouldn't come as a surprise, given his line of work. But seeing him displayed in all his tanned glory drove home the fact--especially with that very impressive morning erection jutting from between those sculpted thighs.
Lennon was also no stranger to impressive erections. Those she hadn't become personally acquainted with, she'd seen en masse in the Eastman Gallery or while researching new sexual themes for her books. This man's erection, while really, really impressive, shouldn't be making her heart leap into her throat on every beat.
His amusement revealed that he knew exactly how he affected her. Or maybe he remembered last night, when she'd melted in his arms and submitted to his kisses because he'd tied her up....
Tied up. Submitted.
Lennon almost smacked her forehead i
n disbelief at her own stupidity. How could she have possibly missed this?
Submission was the sexual fantasy of Milord Spy.
To recreate the theme accurately in her book, she'd spent days online, researching women and men who practiced submissive lifestyles with their partners. She'd even joined a chat to ask questions, and had found the chatters to be friendly people who'd been generous in sharing their stories.
No wonder she'd responded to Josh last night. Sure, he was romance hero gorgeous. Sure, he was scrumptious with his roguish grins and bedroom eyes. And, sure, he kissed like a devil and had hands that knew exactly what to touch and when. But Lennon had submission on the brain, submission embedded in her creative subconscious as she wrote her latest story.
Last night she'd been living her fantasy--her current fantasy, because with each new book and each new hero, her sexual fantasy changed. On her editor's advice she'd become secretive about upcoming themes. Ellen said it helped create anticipation for her new titles, or so the marketing department insisted.
"Would you like to visit the bathroom first?" she offered magnanimously. "Because I want to jump in the shower."
Looking rather deflated, Josh spun on his heel and walked away, giving her a prime view of his attractive bottom.
Mmm. Hopping off the bed, Lennon raced to the phone and dialed room service to order coffee, feeling suddenly as though her already promising day had just taken a turn for the better.
All indications seemed to point in that direction, anyway, because Josh quickly reappeared, still defiantly naked, giving Lennon another chance to admire male perfection in the flesh.
Then she swept past him to take possession of the bathroom. "I ordered coffee. I won't be long."
She locked the door behind her.
A steaming hot shower buoyed her mood even more. She shampooed her hair and then conditioned, mulling over the finer points of knowing she wasn't a closet submissive who was going to have to soul search and face up to her sexual preferences.
She was a perfectly normal, healthy woman who created fantasies for other perfectly normal, healthy women. And the thought of living one of her fantasies was very tempting indeed. Josh would be a no-risk type of guy. He'd already told her he wasn't interested in marriage.
On the other hand, though, could she really pass up this opportunity to get to know the bachelors? When else would she ever have the chance to scope them out all at once? This would definitely be a missed opportunity. Doubly so, because she had her own private investigator running background checks on those bachelors. If she could convince him to share his information.
Then again, she'd kissed the private investigator and wasn't really interested in talking with him about the bachelors--wasn't interested in talking at all.
She had the opportunity to live out a fantasy here--the fantasy of her current book, which could provide such incredible inspiration to her muse. If she were writing about sex while actually having sex with Josh, her readers would be in for one hot read.
Just the thought made Lennon smile.
The sound of the opening bathroom door didn't.
She peered around the thankfully not see-through shower curtain to find Josh--still naked--walking in.
"Josh, I locked that door!"
"I'm a private investigator, chere," he said, as though that explained why he should know how to pick bathroom door locks.
Coming to a halt in front of the vanity, he narrowed a stare at the heavy jacquard shower curtain, the downward tilt to his mouth suggesting he wouldn't have minded X-ray vision right then.
Lennon's heart throbbed in slow, measured beats. A brushfire sparked her skin and she was grateful for the shower curtain so he couldn't see her nipples harden.
Taking an instinctive step into the hot spray, she wondered what she'd do if he brushed aside the curtain and joined her.
"I need to get a move on if you want to be out of here by six-thirty."
"Oh." She didn't sound disappointed, did she?
He cocked his head toward the vanity. "Mind if I shave?"
"No."
Though she would have preferred to be alone, she refused to give him the satisfaction of thinking he'd rattled her. Not when he looked so smug and unaffected.
Perching one muscular buttock on the vanity top, he leaned over the basin to fill it.
Lennon forced her attentions back to her shower by a sheer act of determination, though her imagination ran wild with images of him scraping the stubble from his cheeks. She found herself tempted to sweep aside the curtain, if only she could be sure she wouldn't get caught peeking.
Snapping the water off, she grabbed a towel and exited the shower stall impatiently.
"Let me know when you're through so I can brush my teeth." Sweeping out the door, she unwittingly slammed it behind her and winced as she imagined the big naked man behind it smiling. She hoped he smiled so hard he nicked his cheek with the razor.
But his cheeks looked as undamaged as ever when he emerged a short time later. He dressed quickly and then--right on time--they left the Carriage House, emerging into a courtyard bright with sunlight...where a visitor was waiting.
Louis Garceau.
He sat on a low wall beside their doorway, sipping elegantly from a china coffee cup. "Lennon, so you and Josh are an item. I'm so happy for you."
Lennon swallowed back a groan. She couldn't deny the obvious. Josh leaving with her meant only one thing--he'd been in her suite. As the sun had just made an appearance, the logical conclusion would be...
"Who could resist a lovely lady who believes that fantasy is better than reality?" Josh wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close, making it sound as though they were not only sleeping together, but as if they'd just met and started sleeping together last night.
By the glint in Louis's beady eyes, Lennon had no doubt that within the hour everyone on the guest list would hear the news.
Smiling gamely, she rested her head lightly on Josh's shoulder, refusing to give him the slightest hint that she had vengeance on her mind.
But there was an upside here. Lennon finally had the answer to her question about what to do with Josh. For all intents and purposes, her search for Mr. Right had just ended.
ANY THOUGHTS JOSH HAD about seducing Lennon during the gallery orientation died a premature death once they arrived at the museum and discovered another letter--the first of the letters that contained an actual threat.
Banish filth, along with those who put it in our museum.Josh questioned the security guards and staff only to learn that the letter had been discovered in the cafe. As the museum had been open for business barely an hour yet, most of the cafe staff had been in the kitchen. Whoever had dropped off the letter had come and gone undetected.
To complicate matters, Josh had a difficult time staying close enough to Lennon to protect her as she assisted her great-aunt, along with several museum staff members and docents, in guiding the guests through the exhibits.
She discussed art and directed guests, looking gorgeous in a pale yellow suit that lent her a businesslike air, yet still managed to fix his attention on the slim curves beneath the linen.
But planting himself firmly at Lennon's side in the middle of the tour afforded him many opportunities to grill the guests and assess their motives, and review the gallery's vulnerable points. Logic dictated that the assailant had been waiting outside for Miss Q to emerge on the night of the flash-and-bang, which meant someone may have seen something. No street in the French Quarter escaped the festivities during Mardi Gras. Not even an alley.
Here was a situation where the police could help him investigate the incident, while keeping him free to protect Lennon. Josh debated the merits of involving them more than he already had. With the way the stalker seemed to come and go unobserved, museum security obviously didn't have enough staff to ensure protection against these threats, and with the opening under way, Miss Q's concerns about postponement were no longer an issue.<
br />
He decided to wait and see if the next letter contained a more explicit threat before filing a report with the police. Who knew? Maybe he'd get lucky, and all the guests swarming the museum this weekend would hinder the stalker from attempting another visit at all.
Josh certainly seemed to be having his share of luck today. The perfect opportunity to establish their cover had dropped right into his lap when they'd met Louis Garceau. The man had done a damned good job at spreading the word, judging by the questions Josh had been fielding all morning.
Doc Linc caught him in the rococo art exhibit and grilled him. "Are you and Lennon involved?"
The man's polished looks seemed strained around the edges, as if his expensive suit was keeping his body temperature up despite the gallery's air-conditioning.
"Interested in her yourself, Doc?"
"Yes," the man replied honestly. "She's the main reason I'm here. Quinevere assured me she wasn't involved."
So Doc Linc had been grilling Miss Q about Lennon's personal life, too. Josh mentally filed the information and wondered if any of the other bachelors had also, because he wouldn't put it past Miss Q to encourage that kind of interest to get bachelors to sign up for the auction. It would certainly explain all their interest in Lennon at last night's reception.
"Not to worry," Josh said. "She's only involved for the weekend. She'll be available again on Wednesday."
Doc Linc scowled. "Don't you think that's in poor form, Eastman? Lennon McDarby isn't someone to toy with. She's a reputable woman with a standing in the community."
Yes, she was. Which was precisely why Josh shouldn't want her. And, yes, maybe he should feel bad about casting doubt on her reputation. But only a fool wouldn't take advantage of Louis Garceau's big mouth when he wanted Lennon for himself. Josh wanted Lennon and he was no fool.
"Listen, Doc, I don't see how Lennon's affairs are any of your business."
"You know, Eastman," Doc Linc growled, "your family's preoccupation with sex is no secret. But the fact that you haven't made it out of the gutter is coming as a big surprise."
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