by Donna Grant
The suit and white shirt were impeccable and fit him as if they were custom made. She let her gaze linger on the breadth of his shoulders and the hint of thickly muscled chest when his jacket shifted.
He looked damned good in the suit, yet it seemed as if he were meant for more than such stiff clothing. She licked her lips as she wondered what he would look like in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
Her heart hammered in her chest as her blood heated just looking at the man. She dragged her eyes back up to his face to find him watching her.
Jane had to make her feet stay in place despite the invisible pull she felt toward this complete stranger. It wasn’t just his amazing looks and mouthwatering body that attracted her, but also the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her.
As if he were really seeing her.
That in itself was a heady sensation that made her reach out toward the building with her hand. She let the brick grate against her palm in the hopes it would calm her body, which was raging out of control, tilting, spinning. Listing.
“I’m waiting for my driver,” she said to fill the silence. Then inwardly cringed.
She was always saying the wrong things around men. She should be flirting, but Jane didn’t know how to flirt. She wasn’t coy or beguiling. She hated the games people played, and just wanted to find a man she could be herself around.
Every fall, ditzy moment, and disaster she had.
His half smile grew, crinkling the corners of his unusual gray eyes. “That would be me. I’m Banan.”
“Banan,” she repeated, letting the name roll through her mind. She liked the name.
He gently guided her to where he had parked the Mercedes. “You must be Jane Holden.”
“Yes.”
He opened the car door, and she easily slid into the backseat. “I’ll get you to the airport in plenty of time.”
Jane smiled as she rested her head back against the seat. With a grin like Banan’s directed at her, for the first time in her life she didn’t feel like a Plain Jane.
And she had managed to walk to the car and get in it without incident. Maybe the day was looking up.
Chapter 2
“Where is, Stan, the regular driver?”
Banan had expected that question, but he hadn’t anticipated the husky, sensual voice that passed through such inviting, luscious lips. Jane Holden was anything but typical.
And he hated to admit the lust that flared, when he’d first spotted her.
“He’s with Mr. Arnold tonight.” Banan said the lie easily. Almost too easily. Some might begin to question his integrity when lying became as effortless as breathing.
Then again, few were as old as time itself.
Banan glanced in the rearview mirror. Jane was looking out the window, her large, guileless coffee brown eyes seemingly staring at nothing. Though she might appear innocent, her relationship with Richard Arnold made her suspect. Like everyone at PureGems.
No matter how appealing she might be, he couldn’t let down his guard.
She didn’t speak, and he didn’t push her. It would have been prime opportunity to gather information. But one look at the dark circles under her eyes and the way she could barely keep them open, and Banan decided not to press her.
For the moment.
He stole another glance in the mirror. Her dark auburn hair was parted on the side, and it hung straight and sleek to her shoulders except for the hair that tapered around her face.
Banan tried not to notice the high cheekbones in her oval face. He tried not to notice the way her tongue licked at her plump lips. He tried not to notice how she ran her finger over her arched eyebrow as she looked into a mirror she pulled out of her purse.
But if he thought that was difficult, it was nothing compared to doing his damnedest to forget the glimpse of her long, lean legs as she’d gotten into the car. Or the straight skirt that fit her arse to perfection.
It was so easy to imagine those long legs wrapped around him while he…
Banan shifted in his seat, half-aroused. He had to get his mind off her. “Do you normally pick clients up at the airport?”
“No,” she said and tucked a glossy strand of auburn hair behind her ear, revealing a small jade earring dangling from her lobe. “Mr. Arnold prefers to do it himself, but he had a prior engagement. Which is really odd, now that I think of it.” She paused, her forehead wrinkled in a frown. “This is a high-profile client. He never would’ve allowed anyone but himself to pick them up.”
“It must’ve been something important indeed to take him away, then.”
She didn’t say anything, but he’d gotten her thinking. Just what Banan wanted to do. He had no idea how loyal she was to Arnold, so he had to tread carefully.
Banan said nothing more as they pulled into the airport. He stopped the car by a curb, but before he’d put the car in park, she was out the door.
He watched as she hurried into the airport looking one way then the other. His gaze raked down her frame, from her button-down shirt that fit against her curves to the snug-fitting skirt and tall heels that only elongated her legs even more.
“Damn,” he muttered, hating the lust that wouldn’t dissipate.
Banan’s phone rang then, and he wasn’t surprised to see it was Guy.
“Can you talk?” Guy asked.
“Aye. What do you need?”
“I wanted to know if you’d found out anything. I assumed you would’ve discovered something being alone in the car with the woman.”
Banan grinned as he kept watch on the airport doors for Jane. “I found out Arnold is the one who usually picks up clients, but he had Jane do it this evening. She doesna know what kept him away.”
“Could she be lying?”
“She could be, but I doona think so. She seems…transparent. Unless she’s a verra good actress, I think she’s telling the truth.”
Guy blew out a long breath. “Arnold is the top man in the London office. This has to involve him.”
“And if it doesna? It could be someone else in PureGems.”
“Doubtful, my friend. He’s the only one with the money and connections that could’ve gotten him our secret.”
Banan leaned his elbow on the door. “How is Elena?”
“She willna let me in her flat,” Guy said with a growl. “I even tried to sneak in, but she says she could be watched and doesna want anyone to know what she’s doing.”
“She’s right.”
“Aye,” Guy said angrily. “I know she’s right, but I doona have to like it.”
Banan chuckled at Guy’s frustration. “Where is Rhys?”
“He’s trailing Arnold. Hopefully he’ll come back with something useful. How much longer are you going to be?”
“No’ sure. Jane is looking for whoever it is she’s picking up.”
“Keep your eyes open.”
“I’ll be fine. Worry about your woman.”
“Doona remind me,” Guy replied testily.
Banan ended the call, but Jane had gone farther into the airport and he could no longer stare at her. Which was probably for the best.
He reached into the back and snagged her large purse. With ease, he rifled through the bag. He found her mobile and hurried to check incoming and outgoing calls. He was surprised to see there weren’t many at all.
Satisfied there was nothing in her purse that could aid them, Banan replaced everything and set her purse exactly as it had been. Fifteen minutes later, Jane returned. Alone.
She got into the back of the car and closed the door, a worried expression pulling at her features. “I don’t understand.”
“What is it?”
“The client isn’t here. His flight doesn’t come in until tomorrow. Did I get the day wrong? God, that would be just like me.” She put her head in her hand and let out a long, exasperated sigh.
Banan started the car and pulled away from the airport. “Are you sure the client didna arrive?”
“Yes
. I have a friend who works for Virgin Atlantic. I had her check if he was on today’s flight. He wasn’t. I just don’t understand.”
“Everyone makes mistakes. Doona worry about it.”
She looked out the window. “Yeah. You’re right.”
But he had the feeling she didn’t believe him. The way she held herself and the worry lines bracketing her lips told a different story than her words.
“How about I drop you off at your flat instead of the office?” he offered. This way he wouldn’t have to tail her later.
Their gazes met in the rearview mirror and she smiled slowly, true happiness in her eyes. “That would be great. Thank you.”
He followed her quietly spoken directions. There was obviously something bothering her. She was so distracted. He began to wonder if the snafu that night was an accident, or something done to Jane deliberately.
Whatever the cause, Banan intended to discover what it was. Jane seemed like the innocent sort, but sometimes those could be the ones at the heart of all the trouble.
He stopped the car in front of her flat. While he waited for another car to pass so he could get out, Jane had already opened her door.
Banan came around the back of the car and stopped cold at the sight of her long leg poking outside the car as she gathered her purse. Her skirt had slipped up, giving him an ample view of her thigh all the way down to the high-heeled shoes she wore.
He swallowed. It was a shapely leg, but just a leg. Yet there was no denying the need, the hunger surging through him.
Somehow he shook himself and held the door as she looked through her purse. Banan bit his lip to keep from smiling as he watched her.
“They’re in this damn purse somewhere,” she mumbled.
“Are you sure that’s a purse?” he asked as he nodded at its large size.
She stopped and looked at him, then at her purse. And to his amazement, busted out laughing. Then she went back to digging. “It is rather huge. And the bigger the purse, the more crap I put in it. I know I need a smaller one, but I love this purse. Ah-ha!” she cried a moment later, and pulled out her keys.
He helped her out of the car, covertly watching the way she slung the purse over her shoulder and adjusted her skirt before she turned to him.
“Thank you for waiting on me this evening. I apologize for running behind.”
“There’s no need to fash yourself over it. The client wasna at the airport.”
“Fash?” she repeated and frowned. “You’re Scottish, right?”
“I am.” He was more than that, but it was easier just to agree.
She glanced down the street and fiddled with her key ring. “I traveled there last fall.”
“For a holiday?”
“In a manner,” she answered evasively. “It’s beautiful.”
He found himself more intrigued by her with every passing moment. “Where did you go?”
“I spent some time in Oban and Loch Ness.”
“Did you go looking for Nessie?”
She smiled and ducked her head. “I did take a boat ride on Loch Ness, but I’m sorry to say, I didn’t look for Nessie.”
Silence stretched between them as Banan found he simply enjoyed looking at her. She kept glancing away from him, and he knew his staring made her nervous.
She acted almost as if she didn’t know what to do with a man’s attention. Which was surely wrong. All a man had to do was look at her to see her appeal.
“Um…thank you,” she said, and took a step back.
Banan saw the heel of her stiletto fall into the crack in the concrete an instant before she shifted her weight onto it. He took the two steps separating them, catching her just as her ankle gave way.
“Oh!” she gasped as he pulled her against him.
He stared down into the large pools of her coffee brown eyes. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly. He’d brought her against him to help balance their weight so they both wouldn’t topple over, but with the feel of her breasts and amazing curves against him, he knew it hadn’t been a wise decision.
The lust he’d keep abated raged like an inferno, demanding he close the distance and sample her lips with his own. Slowly, leisurely he’d kiss her until she clung to him with longing.
Despite knowing he needed to separate from her, he couldn’t. His blood burned from the desire that licked at his body. He liked the feel of her in his arms, loved the way her lips parted as if she waited for his mouth on hers.
The urge, the pure, primal need to take her was unwavering. Overwhelming. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such…yearning for a woman.
“Are you all right?”
“Y-yes,” she murmured softly.
Her lips were so close to his. They were tempting, enticing.
Inviting.
He wanted to cover her mouth with his, to kiss her deeply and intensely. The impulse was so great, he barely stopped himself in time.
And then wished he hadn’t.
Banan stared into her eyes and saw lighter flecks in her irises. “Gold,” he said.
“What?”
Slowly, he stood them upright and reluctantly released her. “Your eyes. They have flecks of gold in them.”
“You must be mistaken. My eyes are just plain brown.”
“I’m no’ mistaken.”
Their gazes locked and held again. How easy it would be to pull her back into his arms, to lean his head down and place his mouth over hers. How simple it would be to give in to the growing need inside him.
“Thank you,” she said nervously, and turned her head away. “I know that hole is there. I’ve had my heels caught in it numerous times.”
He waited as she walked up the steps, unlocked her door, and stepped inside. She turned back to look at him.
Only then did he say, “Good night, Jane Holden.”
“Good night,” she replied.
Banan refused to think of his reaction as he drove back to PureGems to drop off the Mercedes. Whatever he’d felt would surely pass before the next time he saw her.
Chapter 3
The next morning, Jane found herself staring at her computer screen without actually seeing it. Instead, she was back in Banan’s arms the night before. Sure, she’d gotten there by making a fool out of herself by tripping. Again.
But never once had she found herself in the arms of a man like him as a result. So virile, so gorgeous.
So completely out of her reach.
Her hands clenched atop her desk. She could still feel the solid, hard sinew of his muscles beneath her palms, still sense the steel of his body as she was hauled—firmly and protectively—against him.
He’d been quick and agile and superbly strong, but not once had he hurt her. His hands had held her tightly but gently, securely but tenderly.
Which was so at odds with the fire she’d seen smoldering in his gray eyes. They had darkened to the color of smoke, and for the briefest moment, she thought he might kiss her.
“Jane,” someone whispered.
Jane nearly fell out of her chair, she moved so quickly. When she righted herself, she looked up to find Elena leaning her hands on the desk next to hers.
“Are you all right?” Elena asked, her lips quivering as she suppressed a laugh.
Jane nodded, mortified at her continued gracelessness. “Um, hm. Just fine.”
But she wasn’t. Would probably never be again. Not after Banan’s touch, his voice, his eyes.
Every time Jane had closed her eyes during the night, she saw Banan’s face. All she could dream about was his body against hers, holding her. Caressing her.
It had taken hours for her to sleep, and then she slept through her alarm, putting her late getting to work and missing breakfast altogether.
She’d managed to eat half a granola bar during the morning meeting before Mr. Arnold had her getting his coffee. Even when she tried to leave for lunch, he’d had errands for her.
Jane’s head ached from the lac
k of food, and she was having a difficult time concentrating, though the blame for that could be placed squarely on Banan’s very wide, very muscular shoulders.
“Jane,” Elena said again, a smile in her voice.
She looked up at Elena. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well. Did you need something?”
“Nothing that can’t wait. Why didn’t you come to lunch with the rest of us? We need to stick together, since we’re the only Americans here.”
Jane smiled. Her best friend still lived in Seattle, and even though she and Lisa Skyped often, it wasn’t the same as having her friend in London with her.
Elena’s offer sounded wonderful, and Jane hated that she missed the lunch. Next time, she’d be sure to go.
“Mr. Arnold had some errands for me.”
“Did you eat at all?” Elena asked, a frown marring her forehead.
Jane shrugged. “No, but I have a protein shake in my purse that I’ll get to in a moment.”
After Elena walked off, Jane reluctantly went back to work. Her thoughts, however, didn’t stray far from Banan, no matter how she tried to focus.
When she saw Richard Arnold making his way back into the office after his two-hour lunch, Jane stopped him. “Sir, I wanted to ask what happened with Mr. Eto? I had it marked on my calendar to pick him up last night at the airport, but he wasn’t there.”
One of Richard’s eyebrows lifted as he stared at her. “Are you telling me I gave you wrong information?”
Jane ran her thumb across the chipped nail of her index finger. “No, sir. I’m simply asking if I made the mistake and wrote it on the wrong day?”
“I give you the information. I then pay you to keep up with it,” he said, and looked down his nose at her, not one strand of his light brown hair out of place. “If you keep making these mistakes, you’ll find yourself looking for a new job. Now, get in here. I need you to take notes on a letter you’ll write before you leave for the day.”
Jane wanted to bang her head on the desk. Instead, she grabbed a pen and paper and followed him into the office.
How she despised Richard Arnold. If he wasn’t correcting her American words to British terms, he was telling her how inferior she was.