One-Night Man

by Jeanie London

  Lennon didn't miss the note of hope in his voice, and she wondered if being with his family tonight would be good for Josh. She could hope, anyway.

  "Your grandmother strikes me as someone who doesn't know how to include herself in the fun." Lennon spotted Regina sitting on an overstuffed armchair, a queen among guests who clamored at her feet. "Your family never made much time for fun, did they?"

  "Not when my grandmother was around. She doesn't operate in the fun mode. I don't think the word's even in her vocabulary." Catching sight of Lennon's frown, he smiled. "I'm not harboring ill-will against my grandmother, charity case. I just got tired of being strong-armed into her idea of how to live my life. She was pushing me toward a business degree and grooming me to take over Eastman Antiquities, and that wasn't what I wanted. The power struggle and disapproval got old."

  In his strong face, Lennon could still see the boy who'd often shown up at their doorstep looking for his grandfather.

  Or had he been looking for acceptance?

  "Did you know that Eastman Antiquities actually began as my grandmother's family business?" Josh asked.

  "No, I didn't."

  "Her family had lost everything in the Depression. That's how her marriage to my grandfather came about. He was up and coming in the import-export industry and was the best chance to reestablish the business. With my grandmother's name and connections, it was a good opportunity for him, too."

  "What went wrong?"

  "My grandmother never felt secure. She spent her life safeguarding herself against another financial disaster, even though my grandfather had rebuilt the business and made it stronger than it had ever been. After my father was born, my grandfather wanted other things in their life besides work. He wanted to enjoy his son, take vacations and have a big family. My grandmother resented any time spent away from the business. She still does."

  "It's sad she was never able to move beyond that."

  But maybe there was hope yet, Lennon thought. For as cantankerous as his grandmother was, she'd obviously been delighted to have the chance to argue with her grandson.

  Apparently Josh hadn't noticed. He operated with a lot of distance in his life. Distancing himself from his family. Investigating the bachelors for her, to make sure he had an "out" regarding their relationship. She wondered if he ever got lonely. Snuggling up against him, Lennon decided he wouldn't get a chance to this weekend.

  "There is a balance, you know. Your grandfather found his. He made his choices and managed the best of both worlds. It wasn't without sacrifice and compromise, but it seems to me that everyone got what they wanted from the situation."

  He dipped her over his arm, and she went with the motion, unable to swallow back a sigh when his thigh pressed between hers, creating friction through her skimpy latex covering.

  "Looking for a happily ever after for me and my family?"

  Lennon huffed as he swung her out of the dip. "I've got enough trouble trying to find my own, thank you."

  Josh's amused gaze told her he wasn't buying it. "Speaking of happily ever afters, chere, there's Gray Talbot."

  She followed his gaze to a nearby couple. The woman was costumed in a chic twentieth-century style--Anais Nin or Colette, perhaps. But the man she was dancing with, judging from his wonderful medieval outfit, could only be Chretien de Troyes.

  "I've met him before. He's an investment banker with his family's bank. No doubt he can handle his finances."

  "Probably, but he's been engaged four times. Hasn't made it down the aisle once."

  "Oh. Commitment issues, do you think?"

  Josh nodded. "Not a good quality in a husband."

  "Definitely not. Where's he on the suspect list?"

  "I'm looking into revenge as a motive. Your great-aunt recently stopped doing business with his bank. Losing her came as a definite blow. I overheard him talking to someone on the tour today about how he almost didn't come this weekend."

  "Oh." Lennon didn't like the sound of that, and a glimpse of a couple beside them caused her to ask, "What about Mark Martin? Does he have a motive?"

  "He's the personal injury lawyer--an ambulance chaser. He could have arranged the incidents with the hopes of talking you into suing the museum. It's weak but worth considering. Given what I've read about his cases, the guy's morally impaired."

  "And Dan Wallace? He runs his family's country club."

  "No motive I can determine, but a lousy candidate for a husband. He's been accused of sexually harassing several female employees. I read the reports and think his family's money and connections are the only reasons the charges were dropped."

  Though everything about Josh was serious, his tone, his expression, certainly his news, Lennon knew he was enjoying eliminating her potential bridegrooms.

  "What about Linc Palmer?"

  "Good old Doc Linc," Josh said, grimacing. "That man is so fixated on how people look that he stalks women like a gambler looking for a winning slot machine. Makes me wonder if he's frightening you and Miss Q so he can charge in to save you."

  "That's not a motive."

  Josh shrugged. "The man practically threatened me when he heard about our affair. I had to tell him to move on because you were mine."

  "You did?"

  Josh nodded.

  Linc's interest didn't impress her nearly as much as Josh driving off the competition. From their first night together he'd objected to her talking with the bachelors. His possessiveness seemed so at odds with the premise of a fling.

  While wrestling down the absurd hope that something more might be happening between them, she found herself completely distracted when Mr. Eastman appeared.

  "Switch partners with me, Josh. You're mother's dying to dance with you and I'd like a chance to speak with Lennon."

  Given the sudden flash of annoyance in Josh's expression, Lennon guessed he wasn't thrilled with letting anyone touch his almost-naked lover--no matter who that someone might be.

  Lennon had to admit to being very grateful for the sheer volume of her synthetic wig, although to Mr. Eastman's credit, he proved solicitous about where he actually placed his hands.

  "It's nice to have the chance to meet you, Mr. Eastman," she said, when he whisked her away, with all the strong grace his son displayed on the dance floor.

  "Joshua, please." He smiled. "Although your great-aunt has taken to calling me Joshua Two."

  "Auntie Q's into names. You'll have to ask her to share her theories on where Olaf picked up his Scandinavian name in a South American jungle. It's rather entertaining."

  "I'll keep that in mind."

  He smiled warmly, and Lennon saw glimpses of Josh and his grandfather in that smile, though this Joshua definitely favored his mother with his gray-flecked brown hair and brown eyes. Still, he was a handsome man, and the fact that he was not ill at ease given the fact he was waltzing his son's almost-naked lover over the dance floor endeared him to her.

  "Now, tell me all about the gallery's public resources."

  Lennon did. The song ended and another began, but Mr. Eastman asked her to dance the next and the next, and Lennon suspected he was having a grand time steering her away from his wife and son. She caught glimpses of Josh scowling at them from among the other couples, and wondered what the deal was. Her bewilderment must have been evident, because Mr. Eastman chuckled and said, "We seem to have a phenomenon on our hands."

  "A phenomenon?"

  He gave a decided nod. "My son is positively prowling the dance floor. He won't let us out of his sight."

  "That's why you're whipping me around like this. You're making Josh chase us." Mr. Eastman's grin confirmed her suspicions, and Lennon was strongly reminded of Great-uncle Joshua. "Your son is my bodyguard this weekend." Among other things, she silently added, and experienced a warm glow at the thought. "He can't let me out of his sight."

  Mr. Eastman considered her thoughtfully. "Lennon, it just occurred to me that I haven't seen my son in well over a year." Judging by t
he furrow creasing his brow, she knew that realization didn't please him. "Even so, trust me when I say I can tell the difference between protection and prowling." He gave a surprised laugh. "He's prowling, and I suppose I'd better let him catch us before he gives his mother whiplash."

  Lennon giggled as, sure enough, Josh promptly caught up to them.

  "As enjoyable as my dance partner has been, I need Lennon back." His tone left no room for argument.

  Kissing his mother's cheek, he told his parents to enjoy themselves, and pulled Lennon into his arms. His dad actually winked as he waltzed his wife off into the crowd.

  Prowling, hmm?

  Lennon couldn't read Josh's poker-faced expression. But he held her tightly against him and didn't let go. When one song segued into the next, he made no move to leave the dance floor. And when she finally begged for champagne and a break, he looped his arm through hers and led her to a nook, where he regaled her with more horror stories about the bachelors.

  And Lennon responded with a crazy swell of excitement in her chest, a growing hope that perhaps Mr. Eastman had been right. Maybe Josh had been prowling. Maybe he'd decided he wanted more than just a weekend fling.

  She recognized the feeling, this wild sense of anticipation, as the upside of grand passion, where her mood directly reflected the state of their affair.

  Of course, every upside had a downside. The downside here was that she didn't know what Josh wanted. Why had he offered to share what he knew about the bachelors, only to methodically knock each one out of the running?

  Prowling, hmm?

  Lennon couldn't say. But one thing was clear. They'd only been together a few days, and just the thought of leaving the hotel and never seeing him again left her feeling so empty that she had to ask whether she really wanted a marriage with a companionable man--with any man besides Josh Eastman.

  He was already making her crazy.

  HER ELABORATE and very top-heavy wig bobbled precariously as Quinevere craned to see around Olaf's girth, wishing not for the first time in her life she'd grown taller than her present five feet three inches. Not too much taller, of course, as she'd always enjoyed feeling delicate and feminine beside a much taller Joshua, but tall enough so she could see actually over all the heads on this dance floor to spy on Lennon and Josh Three.

  As it was, she barely reached the middle of Olaf's wide chest, and seeing around him proved a bothersome business indeed."You're worried," Olaf said, weaving her past couples so she could view the row of fortune tellers' tents unobstructed.

  "Everything was going so well," she lamented. "Now Regina's here muddying the waters with her disapproval and frowns. Josh Three simply won't tolerate it. He'll leave."

  Olaf gazed at some point over her wig and then shook his dark head emphatically. "He won't leave Lennon unprotected."

  "I wish I could be so sure of that." Quinevere had known Josh Three since the day he'd been born. She'd watched him grow into the man he'd become--a wonderful man who would make her great-niece very happy. But a man, nevertheless, who hadn't learned to balance life on his own terms with the often trying demands of his grandmother. "But he's not really protecting Lennon, because she hasn't been threatened. I've been threatened."

  "What about today?"

  "Those fireworks went off when Josh Three was helping me into the car."

  "You sound certain they were fireworks."

  "Of course they were." She waved her hand impatiently, allowed him to steer her back into the crowd with strong smooth glides that were amazing for a man so large. "Joshua was far too responsible to have gunfire whizzing around our heads, no matter how noble the cause."

  "So those fireworks were Mr. Joshua's doing, hmm?"

  She thought she saw a twinkle deep in those beetle-black eyes. "What else could it have been?"

  "A timely coincidence?"

  "Oh, phoo, Olaf, I'm surprised at you. Coincidence? I don't think so. Joshua's helping us out and doing a fine job, I might add. Did you see how quickly Josh Three got Lennon back into the gallery? Danger can be such a wonderful aphrodisiac."

  "Apparently." He gazed down his nose at her in a look of undisguised amusement. "Then what's the problem?"

  "Lennon and Josh haven't had enough time together to withstand a full frontal assault from Regina Eastman. I'm afraid Josh Three is going to bolt. He always has. I'm afraid he always will. And I won't ask the Eastmans to leave. I'm glad they're here to honor Joshua. We can all manage to get along for the weekend."

  "Except for Josh Three."

  She nodded. "Except for Josh Three. There's no question that Regina's the matriarch from hell. She tries to impose her will on everyone. Josh Three got frustrated and washed his hands of the whole situation before he learned to placate her and do what he wants anyway. If only he'd have given his grandfather and parents a chance, I know he'd have found them supportive of whatever he chose to do with his life."

  Olaf considered her thoughtfully for a few turns on the dance floor and then said, "Maybe we should up the stakes. Maybe it's time for Josh Three to protect Lennon."

  Quinevere tipped her top-heavy wig back and peered into Olaf's smiling face. "Joshua always said that of all his acquisitions you were his greatest find. I completely agree."

  14

  PULLING LENNON BENEATH the showerhead, Josh coaxed the hot spray over her soapy skin, washing away all remnants of Lady Godiva. She'd been a temptation all night, but he wanted Lennon back, wanted the freedom to run his hands over her slick curves, wanted to taste her smooth skin liberated of latex and paint.

  As the last of her costume swirled down the drain, she glanced down at herself, then sighed almost sadly."I'm just me again."

  He wasn't remotely sad and skimmed his hands over the sweet swell of her breasts to prove it. "I want you."

  She grinned up at him, blinking away the water that spangled her lashes, and arched her breasts into his hands. "But there's nothing exciting about plain old Lennon."

  He would have disagreed, but her sulky voice and pouty lips sent blood spearing straight to his crotch, making him ache with a razor-sharp need that came damn close to killing him.

  A night spent swaying against her near-naked curves on a crowded dance floor in full view of his family and half of New Orleans's high society had spiked his urgency to the breaking point. If she kept teasing him...

  She did.

  Shimmying her slippery body downward, she nibbled at his chest along the way, tortuous little nips that forced him to lean back against the shower wall to remain standing. He could only stare as the water streamed over her, plastering her hair on her shoulders in wild strands, and brace himself as she sank to her knees before him, body coiling into a naked curl of pale gold skin. All plans to make love to her until dawn took a detour.

  Damn, he was a goner.

  He would never withstand this kind of assault on his senses, not when he'd already been tempted beyond endurance. But he couldn't steer Lennon away or utter one syllable of protest when she brushed her soft mouth along the underside of his erection.

  The guttural sound that erupted from him made her smile, but that was the last Josh saw of her mouth, because he could only close his eyes when her tongue darted out from between those pouty lips, circling his shaft in a long slow stroke.

  Damn, he was really a goner.

  His body jumped in response to her touch and his head filled with the memory of the sexy scene he'd read on her laptop. Here was another glimpse of the way Lennon liked it, and she clearly wanted control tonight.

  Exhaling sharply, he tried to dispel the tension that had taken possession of his muscles and locked him above her, subject to every sweeping caress of her skilled tongue, every spiraling swirl she lavished over his responsive skin.

  Then she sucked him into her mouth with one hot swallow. Bucking hard, Josh almost lost control right there, but some barely functioning part of his brain warned that if he gave in now this exquisite torture would end.

&
nbsp; Each moment he managed to stand, immobilized, suspended right on the brink of giving way to the most explosive buildup of lust he'd ever known, became another moment of victory, a moment of triumph that she rewarded with the passionate attention of her sultry mouth.

  And then she touched him with her hand. Not around his erection, though he craved the contact, but lightly cupping his testicles, fondling their heaviness in her wet palm, squeezing gently, until his heart hammered in his chest and the sound of running water faded beneath that of the blood pounding in his ears.

  The moment became charged, a battle of wills, his resolve to savor this excruciating pleasure against Lennon's determination to make him lose control. His tenacity against long sucking pulls of that hot velvet mouth. His ability to resist the fingertips that skimmed between his legs, back where they had no business skimming....

  Damn, he was done.

  All he could do was spear his fingers into her wet hair and hang on as his body exploded.

  Lennon gently guided him out of the shower, his weak legs only just holding him upright. He was barely aware of collapsing in bed beside her, still dripping wet, but as he came to his senses again much later, Josh clearly remembered the smug smile on her beautiful face as she'd fallen asleep curled tightly around him.

  Propping himself on an elbow, he gazed down at her. Her hair streamed over the pillows, the moonlight shining through the window casting the tangled mass in a haze of silver and shadow. Even in the pale glow of night, her mouth looked soft and bruised from his kisses. Each whispery breath marked a beat of his heart, and Josh knew he wouldn't sleep again tonight, though only a few hours remained before they were due at the museum for the start of another action-packed day of erotic events.