by Cherry Adair
"Thanks for sharing that with me." He was so turned on he felt feverish. He'd been on a slow boil for months. "I can see how much you enjoy your food. You consume enough for a linebacker and look like a nymph. God, where do you put it all?" His eyes traveled down her slender body to rest for a moment on her small breasts.
"Well, obviously not there!" Jessie blushed. "Look at the baby seals or something. I can't eat when you're staring at me like a lion about to devour his Bambi du jour."
"Hmm. Soft, succulent and tender pink."
Jessie rolled her eyes. Joshua calculated they'd be out in the cold another hour at the most. He had an excellent bottle of distal chilling at home. He regrouped. "Tell me how adorable you were as a child."
"I wasn't an adorable child at all. I was a homely, gangly child." She smiled. "Which made it tough to make friends. My mother and I moved constantly. We'd move from apartment to apartment, town to town, sometimes state to state, so I was always being shoved into a new school."
"Military?"
"Collection agencies," Jessie said dryly.
He frowned. "You were poor."
"I suppose so, although I didn't think about it at the time. Things were how they were."
"When did you start this love affair with food?" He couldn't wait to feel that avid little mouth all over him. Certainly, thinking of her sexually beat thinking of Jessie as being poor and wanting and having no one to care for her. For some reason picturing her that way pissed him off and made him feel… uncomfortable, damn it.
"Oh, way back. I learned to cook when I was six or seven because it was the only way I got to eat. My mom tended to forget little details like that. At one apartment, we had a wonderful Italian neighbor, sometimes she'd let me sit and watch as she prepared the family's evening meals. The stairwells used to smell incredible." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Garlic. Tomatoes. Yum. Hot, homemade sourdough bread. I used to sit on the bottom step outside their door and salivate. Just the smell of garlic is enough to make me remember that apartment on Ninth."
"God, Jessie." He'd never imagined her as a child, just a sensual woman, born to be made love to.
She waved away his sympathy. "Oh, don't feel sorry for me. Trust me, when I was a kid, it was all a wild adventure. I thought being hungry was normal. And I learned to make a mean spaghetti."
"That's child abuse."
"My mom? No. She didn't hurt me. She just—"
"Neglected you." Christ, no wonder she ate as she did; there would never be enough food in the world to a little girl who was starving. It explained her insistence on always getting a doggie bag even in the finest restaurants.
"It was a bit more complicated than that." Jessie paused and bit her lip. Her eyes met his. "My mom hooked on the side to make ends meet. There. I said it. Phew. As a teenager, I began to hate her for what she was doing. For how we were forced to live. Basically, I was a huge oops. She never knew who my father was."
"She died six years ago. I didn't like or approve of her lifestyle, but I loved her." She looked at him, her eyes unusually bleak. "In an odd way, now that she's gone, I miss her. Family is important, Joshua. No matter what."
"Family," he repeated dispassionately, his eyes flat. "I thought mine was bad, but my life was a cakewalk compared to yours."
"Tell me. You never talk about anyone but Simon and your cousin, Paul the Playboy."
"Want another slice of pie?"
"Does the Pope wear a beanie?" She mouthed "Apple," to the waiter across the room, then turned back to fix Joshua in place with her chocolaty eyes. "Tell me all the Falcon family's dirty little secrets."
"Read the tabloids. They seem to have everything covered."
"Poo, they make up stuff. Thanks," she said as an aside to the waiter, who'd cut at least half the apple pie onto Jessie's plate. She picked up her fork. "Unless the story about you having an alien's love child is true?"
Joshua smiled. "I missed that one."
"They had pictures," Jessie mumbled around a mouthful of pie.
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh." She swallowed. "No family resemblance. Talk."
I could've used someone in my life just like you, Jessie Adams. Looking back, it seemed now to Joshua that he'd always been cold, physically and emotionally. "I was pretty much brought up by the servants before I was shipped off to boarding school," he said shortly, less comfortable when he was the one in the hot seat.
"Poor little rich boy."
Joshua stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "Not at all. I had everything I wanted."
"Not quite. I bet you missed your mother."
"I missed her when I was home. She was always off somewhere. No, what I wanted was a Lionel train," he said, annoyed by her misinterpretation of his childhood. "What I got was a track that ran the perimeter of our thousand-acre estate with a train that required an engine driver and a full-time staff to keep it running. Not quite what I had in mind to take up to my room."
"Naturally I wanted what I perceived the 'normal' kids had. A yo-yo, or a blue Swiss Army knife, or the brown leather bomber jacket owned by one of the servant's kids. Stupid. I could've bought a hundred of each out of my allowance. But perversely it just wasn't the same. I finally figured out that none of that was the least bit important. I was well taken care of, had an exceptional education and learned, eventually, to relish hard work and responsibility instead of growing into a dilettante."
"Oh, Joshua… "
"On the other hand, what I'd really like, right now, is for you to come home with me."
Jessie smiled almost sadly. "Sorry, Romeo. Bad timing."
"Damn."
"You can say that again. How about another slice of pie?"
* * * * *
"When's the next date?" Archie asked her.
"Tonight. Listen, guys. Don't romanticize this. It's sex. Plain and simple." Except it was getting more complex every time she saw him. She shook her head as Archie started refilling her cup. "None for me, thanks." Jessie withdrew her palm from the rim of her cup then rose and rinsed it at the sink. Drying her hands, she said over her shoulder, "We're going to Noble's in the city. He said he has something special to celebrate tonight."
"Valentine's Day," Archie said cheerfully.
"He's going to get you into bed," Conrad said morosely, running his fingers through his blond hair.
"No, he's not," Jessie said grimly, hanging the towel she'd just used on the rack. "He can huff and puff, but he won't blow my house down." Then she smiled. "Not for two weeks, that is. Won't need to dig out the good underwear until then."
"Better run out and buy some bad underwear," Archie advised mischievously, giving her a wink.
Conrad walked over to Jessie and tilted her chin up. "Don't for a moment think The Glacier is going to make an honest woman of you. It isn't going to happen. You know it, we know it, and you can bet your sweet patoot the thought hasn't crossed his mind. I doubt the guy has ever eaten meat loaf in his life."
"In this case, I am an honest woman. I'm his wife. At least I am until I hand him the divorce papers. I don't want, or need either of us to fall in love," Jessie reminded him. "I just want my baby. "And to get out of this with my heart intact.
"Then I'd suggest, love," Conrad said softening his tone, "that instead of buying undies, you go back home and reread Falcon's press clippings before you take your temperature."
* * * * *
Joshua gave her pink diamonds for Valentine's Day. He watched her reaction as they sat in a dim, candlelit booth at Nobel's.
"Thank you so much, Joshua. These are beautiful. But I don't want you buying gifts for me." That unfathomable look came and went in her eyes.
"You don't like earrings?" he asked sardonically, it was clear she was delighted with the way the pendants brushed her neck.
He'd begun to realize that every gift he gave Jessie was a test. She couldn't possibly pass every one. Couldn't possibly be so genuinely pleased every time. No one was that good.
He needed to bring what he was starting to feel when he was with her back down to a manageable level.
"I love earrings, the bigger, the better. And these are absolutely gorgeous." She touched a finger to one large pink drop. "What are these stones?"
"Diamonds."
Jessie flushed and he felt a need to taste the heat. He imagined warming his mouth against the fire in her cheeks.
"I mean the big pink stones."
"Diamonds," he repeated.
"Diamonds." Jessie went pale. "Oh, my God. Joshua! They must be… they're huge."
"Five carats." The receipt had been left in the bottom of the box, as he always instructed his secretary to do. He'd probably see them once more before they got "lost."
"Please, I love them, but I can't accept them." She yanked one off her ear with enough force to bruise. "I adore big, flashy costume jewelry. I'd be paranoid I'd lose these." She placed the earring on the table between them as if it would shatter.
Joshua picked it up and reinserted the post in her earlobe. After affixing the earring back, he stilled her other hand. "Keep them. They're insured." Conversation closed.
He felt the warmth of her thigh beside him on the banquet seat. She'd swept her hair up off her neck into a sexy chignon that defied gravity. The pink diamonds glinted in the soft lighting, casting rainbow prisms on her smooth cheeks. Candlelight danced in her eyes as she watched several couples moving slowly around the pocket-size dance floor. The pink jacket she wore rustled as she turned inquiring eyes up to his.
"Don't even ask," he murmured huskily, his breath making a curly tendril of hair dance against her cheek. He had no intention of dancing with her again until he had satiated himself with her body in bed. He was a ticking bomb as it was. "Hell, if I held you that close right now, I'd take you on the floor. Hard and fast."
She smiled that annoying as hell little enigmatic smile of hers. The one that turned the neurons in his brain to live wires and prepared his muscles for action.
"I want you," he murmured. "Right now." He restrained her fingers as she tried to pull away. "You've been holding me off far longer than I've ever waited for a woman."
The soft candlelight flickered on her face, bathing it in an apricot glow that made her dark eyes brilliant and drew his gaze to the sheen of wine on her mouth. She ran the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip and Joshua suppressed a groan. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table. The movement made the neckline of her jacket gape just enough to reveal the soft upper curve of her breasts. He dragged his eyes upward with reluctance and she made a small, low sound deep in her throat.
"I think you must put that stuff in my food when I'm with you." Her voice was so low he could barely hear her. "I've never felt like this in my life."
Joshua cleared his throat "What stuff?"
Jessie's eyes were liquidly slumberous, and she blushed a velvety pink. "Spanish fly."
Joshua thought he would explode. "Spanish fly is actually cantharides made from the skeletons of beetles."
She grimaced.
Joshua held a laugh. "It causes itching all right, but not necessarily for sex." If possible, her blush got deeper, and she gave a small embarrassed groan. His body vibrated with need. "What we both have is an overdose of good old-fashioned lust." Then he lifted his glass. "To new beginnings."
"To new beginnings." Jessie clinked her glass against his, her smile brilliant before she blithely finished her shrimp.
Half her hair had escaped the pins, tangling with the heavy diamond drop earrings. Reaching out, he freed the silky filaments. His fingers lingered on her neck. "You know we're going to be lovers, Jessie. God knows, I've been patient and waited long enough. I won't wait any longer. I'm not a man who waits very long for anything. I need an answer."
Jessie laid her hand on her purse, something she did often, almost as if it were a talisman. "You haven't asked me a question." She pushed the last bite of lemon meringue pie around her plate.
"I'm asking now."
"I'm not sure what the question is."
He pulled a folded document from his breast pocket, sliding it across the table. "I want you as my mistress, Jessie." Joshua's voice dropped another octave, his eyes kindling as he watched her mouth. He nudged the papers closer to her coffee cup.
Jessie eased her dry throat with a gulp of ice water. "What's this?"
"A contract A legal, binding agreement." The sharp focus of his eyes reminded her of a bird of prey. "Read it."
"I'd rather you gave me a brief summary." Her hands balled into fists under the tablecloth. A contract! The bastard. And she'd been feeling guilty at how coldbloodedly she was going about this.
"From now until the end of the year as my mistress," he said baldly, "I pay your rent. Buy your clothes. In exchange, you give me exclusive rights for the duration." Cut and dried. No mention of his fidelity.
She remembered Frankie, the fifteen-year-old who'd lived next door to them when she was thirteen. She'd had a huge crush on him. When she'd tried to steal a kiss, he'd called her a whore, like her mother. It had taken three other kids to pull her off him. She'd broken his nose and given him a black eye. She wondered how many people would be needed to pull her off Falcon.
"I'll think about your offer." She coolly pushed away her plate and reached for the leftover bread sticks. She filled her doggie bag then snapped two folds in the top to close it.
"You want me just as much as I want you."
Yes. And if I'd slept with you months ago this wouldn't hurt. "I can't tell you how sorry I am about that."
"Don't apologize for wanting me, Jessie. You're a sophisticated woman. You know the score. You want me and I, God knows, want you. You won't be sorry. I can be a generous lover." He tapped an earring with his finger. It grazed her neck and she felt the chill travel across her skin. "You won't want for anything in my care."
She took a calming breath. "You want me to sign a contract." It wasn't a question.
"What did you expect?" he asked, his face impassive. "A handshake and a gentleman's agreement?"
Jessie's laugh sounded brittle, even to her ears. "I can see why that wouldn't work. Neither one of us is a gentleman." She paused. "What happens after my time is up?" Her voice sounded oddly flat. "Do I just disappear, no questions asked, to that great graveyard for all your old mistresses?"
Joshua merely watched her. Suddenly angry—he was too damn cool!—Jessie shoved the papers back across the table. "I hate to be the one to disillusion you, Joshua, but not every woman finds you irresistible. I thought I could do this but, no, thank you."
This was too impersonal, too calculating. She'd thought she could handle this part of it, but she'd been wrong. Dangerously wrong. A little late in the day, Jessie, she taunted herself.
"I want more than this. I deserve more than this."
"Ten thousand a month."
"W-what!"
"Ten thousand a month, tax free. An apartment and your clothes. And a car."
Jessie gritted her teeth. "I wasn't talking about mon—"
"Twelve thousand. And that's my final offer."
Black dots blurred Jessie's vision. "You can take those papers and shove them—"
Grabbing her purse and paper bag, she stood. Joshua gripped her wrist tightly as she tried to sweep past him. With his other hand, he picked up the contract. "Take this. Read it. I'll give you two weeks to decide."
Jessie stared down at him, her breathing erratic. "One of my best qualities," she said frigidly as she tugged her hand away, "is that I make up my mind quickly. You're a self-righteous bastard, and I'm immeasurably grateful that I didn't fall into bed with you. You're a cold, arrogant—" her breath came out in a rush, her heart pounding so fast she thought she might faint "—jerk," she finished.
She had to get out of here. Now. Her cold hands took the papers from him, folding and then refolding them. Then she twisted them into a tight tube. "Here." She shoved them against his chest "Try this for size!"
T
he contract slowly unfurled and dropped to his lap. His fingers tightened painfully on her wrist. "Jessie… "
She shook off his hand, removed the earrings, laid them carefully next to his coffee cup, then walked swiftly out of the restaurant.
* * * * *
Blast the man. Couldn't he do anything right! On each of her fertile days in January he'd been out of town. In February, he'd been gone at the wrong time again. In a couple more weeks all systems would've been go. With any luck, they would've been in the same place at the same time.
Instead he had to go and irritate her so darn much she'd almost punched his arrogant nose. Jessie wanted to throw up her hands in disgust.
She turned into her driveway. This was a case of "be careful what you ask for." And, God, had she asked for this. An icy wind rattled the car. Jessie laid her arms across the top of the steering wheel and stared sightlessly at her cottage. The ache in her chest made her lay her forehead down and squeeze her eyes shut.
She had been so close. So damn close. Tears of frustration and disappointment seeped between her eyelids. She slammed her fist down on the steering wheel. "I want my baby." Her voice broke and she pounded the wheel again. "You promised me my heart's desire. You owe me my baby, damn you."
She lifted her head and stared at the dark, swaying treetops beside her cottage. Joshua Falcon approached a personal relationship exactly as he did a business merger. Why had she been surprised? For him, they were one and the same.
She had two more weeks to calm down. She'd go to him on her first fertile day, she thought grimly, gritting her teeth.
She'd seduce him.
If she didn't kill him first.
Chapter 4
Jessie rang the ornate bell outside Joshua's downtown San Francisco condo. He'd mentioned he rarely went home during the week, preferring to stay in his penthouse apartment in the Falcon building to driving the forty minutes to his house outside of town.