Erotic Invitation

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Erotic Invitation Page 10

by Carly Phillips


  After a long morning workout and soothing shower, Jack headed for the restaurant to meet Mallory. He took what had become his usual seat in the café, ordered black coffee, and rubbed a hand over his face, wondering when sanity would return.

  When he caught sight of her talking with the hostess, he realized the answer was a resounding never. Jack was destined to live in this perplexing, arousing hell created by one Mallory Sinclair.

  This morning she’d exchanged her navy dress for a gray one, and the bun for a clip that held her hair away from her face in an equally severe style.

  He shook his head. Jack saw Mallory’s beauty inside and out, and his desire was no longer diminished by her deliberately harsh daytime appearance, yet his level of frustration with her duality grew.

  Few male heads turned as she made her way to his table, and though Jack took pleasure in the fact that only he knew Mallory the seductress, a perverse part of him wanted other men to envy him for having this incredible woman by his side. He found himself wishing she’d show herself for the sensual woman she really was.

  He was determined to find out the reasons behind the change.

  True she wanted to make partner in their male dominated firm and saw downplaying herself as the means. And considering the old guard distrusted women and only grudgingly gave Mallory their respect, Jack understood. But he didn’t have to like it. She deserved to be acknowledged for her abilities and accepted as the woman he knew her to be—nothing hidden, nothing feigned.

  Although why he cared so much about how she chose to handle herself, her appearance and career remained a mystery to him. So did the reasons she kept up the charade here and now.

  “Hi.” As she slid into the chair across from him, the desire to free her hair and watch it spill over her shoulders grew stronger.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  She set her bag down by her side. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”

  He slid his freshly poured, untouched cup across the table. “Go ahead, it’s on me.”

  She treated him to a grateful smile, one that transformed her face with an ethereal glow and put light into her eyes. He wondered if he was the only one who could see beyond the heavy black frames to the sparkling blue gaze beneath.

  “No contacts today?” he asked.

  “Nope.” She shook the napkin out and placed it in her lap.

  “Because it’s daytime.”

  “Correct. What are you having for breakfast?”

  “An omelette.” He didn’t want her to change the subject before he could dig deeper. “Would you wear contacts if you were on vacation?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not on vacation, I’m working.”

  “No one here is from the office.” He gestured around the tourist-filled room.

  “Except you.” She gave him a penetrating glare.

  Both the look and the point grated. “So you trust my silence for whatever happens between us at night, but you don’t trust me during the day?”

  Mallory let out a long-suffering sigh. “You miss the point. No one else from the office is here but Lederman is due back soon and he’s unpredictable enough to show up unexpectedly. He works with the higher-ups and would probably love to talk. Then there’s Mrs. Lederman. Though she’s accommodating now, she can turn any time when she realizes it’s in her best interest.”

  “And last night’s show?”

  She dropped her shoulders in resignation. “I wanted information but I won’t risk going out in public like that again.”

  Jack hated to admit she had valid points, only because it meant suffering through the torment of waiting till evening to see his Mallory again. With the ball in her court, he had no idea if or when he would see her again.

  Frustration filled him. “Omelette for you, too?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “Pancakes with a side order of bacon. A glass of orange juice. Oh, and coffee, please.”

  The waitress, who had made her way over, jotted down their orders, then took the menus back from Mallory.

  “Worked up an appetite last night, did you?” he asked.

  Mallory pursed her lips, obviously wanting to smack him in his inflated ego. Jack grinned, enjoying teasing her and knowing she wouldn’t stay mad long. He waited for her carefully worded barb.

  “Being carried off by a macho male has that effect on me,” came out of her mouth instead. A blush crept onto her cheeks at the unexpected omission. “And the coffee’s for you.”

  He let out a loud laugh and the people at the neighboring table turned to look. She narrowed her eyes and glared, but instead of sobering, the more frustrated she got, the harder he chuckled.

  “Can I help it if that scene you made brought out the worst in me?” Jack stopped laughing. His feelings last night were no joke.

  “I had no idea you’d show up.”

  “But once I did, you enjoyed it.” His stare never wavered.

  “Maybe for a minute.” She bit down on her lower lip and leaned closer. Her honest blue eyes bore into his. “And only because I thought that jealousy bit was an act,” she said.

  Surprise at her admission caught him off guard. His self-confident colleague had turned into a vulnerable woman. He’d never have believed it if he hadn’t heard her say so out loud.

  He leaned closer, too, until their lips were inches apart and their breaths mingled. “That was no act.”

  “At some point I realized that. But I never thought you’d react that way about me.”

  “I sure as hell didn’t expect it either. Not at first glance.”

  She tipped her head to the side, a serious expression crossing her face. “I appreciate the honesty.”

  “Good. But I’m not finished yet.” Unable to get closer as she physically withdrew across the table, he grabbed for her hand instead. “I wasn’t jealous only because I’ve seen the seductress in you. I was jealous because I’m intrigued by you. By all of you.”

  Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

  “Care to tell me why you wouldn’t think I’d be interested enough to get jealous?”

  Considering the physical sensations that arced between them, Jack couldn’t understand why she’d doubted the sincerity and strength of that emotion.

  She shrugged, then said simply, “Because no one’s ever reacted possessively with me.”

  “Then I’d have to say you’ve had a string of stupid men in your life.”

  She grinned. “And I’d have to agree with you.”

  He tightened his grip around her smaller hand. “This inability to see yourself as you should—that comes from where?” Because no woman deliberately dressed herself down and downplayed such incredible looks without a damn good reason.

  Her lips shut as if she could stop the truth from coming out by sheer willpower alone.

  “Bad relationship?” he hazarded a guess.

  “Bad upbringing,” she shot back, then opened her eyes wide at the realization that things were finally out in the open between them.

  “Go on.” He sat back and waited, but didn’t release her hand, knowing their emotional connection could only be strengthened by physical touch.

  “First I was an accident, then I was a disappointment. My father wanted a boy. He got me instead.” As she spoke, the light in her expressive eyes dimmed. “Over time I learned not to expect too much.”

  “And your parents never delivered.”

  “Right.”

  He shook his head, anger and frustration filling him at two people who’d created a child and then proceeded to negate her sense of self-worth. He’d at least had his father behind him. Mallory had had herself—and she’d managed to chart her own destiny.

  In Jack’s mind, she’d taken the wrong course. Hiding herself couldn’t make her happy for long, but only she could realize that truth. If he happened to nudge her in the right, sensual direction, he’d be happy to help her out. Not just for selfish reasons but because she deserved to experience all life had to o
ffer—and not see those wonderful things skewed behind thick, oblique lenses.

  “Your parents were wrong, you know.”

  She shrugged, but her intense stare told him she was listening.

  He wondered if she believed him and made it his mission to be sure she was paying attention. “And it’s their loss—missing out on you.”

  Her eyes filled with moisture, gratitude evident. She inhaled a shaky breath. “Thanks again. Truth’s a wonderful thing and I don’t hear it much.”

  An emotional lump formed in his throat. “When I’m with you, my body tells you exactly how I’m feeling. What’s the point in lying now?” As if by suggestion, he shifted in his seat to alleviate the sudden discomfort in his groin.

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re a nice guy?” Her lips lifted upward in a grin that warmed him and chased away the chill that had always surrounded his heart.

  He shook his head. “I’ve never given anyone reason before.”

  Mallory struggled to calm her pounding heart. This connection between them was growing stronger. She felt it.

  She wanted to run from it but didn’t dare. Talking past her emotions wasn’t easy but she owed Jack for easing a huge burden she’d always carried with her. “About the jealousy bit?” She changed the subject back to last night. “I didn’t enjoy the act.”

  In fact, the bartender’s sweaty palms and let-me-show-you-a-good-time attitude had turned her off from the beginning. Only her search for information had kept her rooted in her seat and had forced her to allow his unwanted attention.

  “I didn’t want him touching me.” She gazed at Jack through heavy eyelids. “I wished it was you.”

  His skin drew tight over his cheekbones as awareness raced between them. “I appreciate you returning the favor,” he said finally.

  She knew he was referring to her honest answer and nodded. She’d give him even more honesty later. Because this conversation had proven to her without a doubt—she wasn’t finished with Jack Latham.

  “Now, care to tell me what you uncovered about Lederman?” Jack lowered his voice.

  Grateful for normal conversation, Mallory looked around. The restaurant had grown more crowded and a low hum of voices droned on around them. They could easily talk in hushed tones without being overheard, or so she thought until she turned toward the hostess station.

  Mallory let out a groan. “I wish I could, but Alicia Lederman’s doing the rounds of the tables, talking to customers.”

  “Food’s up.” The waitress arrived with their plates, giving them yet another reason to postpone talking business.

  He let out an equally frustrated sound. “Guess we’ve got to wait.”

  Mallory nodded and reached for her fork. Since this trip, she’d gotten good at waiting.

  And even better at anticipation.

  She finished her meal in record time, hunger for food satisfying one craving, while her need for Jack only grew.

  JACK HAD PROMISED to wake Mallory from a late-afternoon nap but calls to his secretary and another client took longer than he’d expected. By the time he left the conference room Lederman had given him for business use and made his way back to their floor, Jack realized she was probably out sightseeing or walking on the beach. But he figured he’d give waking her a shot anyway, just in case.

  “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Rise and shine.” He knocked on her door.

  “You looking for the Missus in the room?”

  Jack turned.

  A chambermaid stood behind him, an armload of towels in hand. “I saw her leave a little while ago.”

  His disappointment was keen. For no good reason, he knew, because he had no concrete plans—just a burning desire to see her again. And he couldn’t control the disappointment building inside him because after their bonding session she’d thought nothing of disappearing without leaving him a message.

  “Are you sure it was her? Dark hair, blue eyes.”

  “I’m sure. She asked me for fresh towels and…” The dark haired woman shook her head. “Never mind. Other folks’ strange requests aren’t my business.”

  He didn’t question her further. “Well I appreciate the information.”

  She smiled. “No problem. You have a nice day.” She let herself into Mallory’s room carrying the towels and Jack began a retreat back into his own.

  “Wait.”

  He turned back.

  “I didn’t realize you were the gentleman across the hall. She…” The woman pointed to Mallory’s door. “She left something for you. I was going to leave it on your bed when I finished inside. Wait here.”

  She strode to her utility cart and returned with a white sheet of paper in one hand, an innocuous brown bag in the other. “These are for you.”

  “Thanks.” His pulse picked up rhythm as he lifted the paper and inhaled the fragrant scent. Arousal hit him harder and stronger than ever before. So did the sense of anticipation.

  One part of him knew she was answering his challenge from last night. Another part of him sensed she was responding to their new-found closeness today. He’d never experienced such intense feelings for another person—never wanted to make someone else feel better and ease their pain—until Mallory.

  The thought scared him spitless so he focused on the invitation instead. Waiting until he was alone in his room, he peered into the bag and pulled out the bottom half of a string bikini, too skimpy to cover anything at all.

  His mouth went dry and he opened the sheet of paper and read aloud. “Our cabin at eight. Come for a romp on my beach.” He fingered the nylon strings in his hands. He could come right now, he thought wryly.

  A vision came to him, of Mallory wearing the matching top, nothing below. Jack broke into a sweat. He shook his head. No way would she have the nerve. Then he remembered she’d already gone skinny-dipping. She had also revealed her deepest emotions. Her nerve was greater than he’d realized.

  The next couple of hours loomed long in front of him, but no doubt that was her intent. To leave him with the flimsy bottoms and lots of time on his hands to think.

  And fantasize.

  By the time eight o’clock rolled around, Jack was in a heated state of need. And by the time he arrived at the cottage door, his hands were shaking.

  The woman knew how to drive him mad with suggestion and innuendo. If he believed in relationships, he’d think he’d found a woman who could engage and entice him, keep him interested for a lot longer than one night.

  Good thing he didn’t believe or he’d be in deep trouble. Jack raised his fist and knocked on the door.

  9

  MALLORY ANSWERED the door quickly, greeting him with an easy smile. “Hi, there.”

  “Hi, yourself.” She’d left him hanging this afternoon with a skimpy piece of her bathing suit and a provocative invitation for tonight.

  It hadn’t been enough. He’d been a man deprived and he drank in the sight of her now.

  She’d prepared for the beach.

  He’d like to think she’d prepared for him.

  Her top, if he could call it that, was the match for the bikini bottoms in his pocket. Two triangles, aqua in color and rimmed with white piping didn’t quite cover her breasts and exposed more than a hint of soft flesh and cleavage. Whatever he’d envisioned, reality was sweeter. His mouth watered at the luscious view and his gaze traveled downward.

  A matching scarf knotted at one hip, tied around her waist and ended midthigh. He had no clue what she wore beneath the blue sarong and the thought of her wearing no panties, no bottoms, nothing at all, made him crazy with curiosity and insane with longing. No doubt that had been her intent. As if she could read his thoughts, a provocative smile lifted the corner of her mouth.

  She was making him pay for his caveman routine and he loved every minute.

  She leaned against the doorframe, one arm propped against the wooden molding, her head tipped so that black curls fell over one shoulder. “You’re prompt. I like that in a man.”
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br />   Deliberately seductive and playful at the same time, she made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her until neither one of them could think or breathe. “What else do you like?”

  “Come on in and find out.” She turned and sashayed inside, leaving him to follow. At this moment he’d go anywhere she led him and wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

  His gaze surveyed her barefooted retreat and the sultry sway of her hips beneath the blue skirt. She passed through the living room area they’d dined in before and continued into a short hallway. He wondered at her final destination and decided he enjoyed this kind of mystery and suspense.

  “We’re here.” She paused at the entrance to the last door at the end.

  He stopped inches away. Her skin glowed from time in the sun, and a light flush on her cheeks told him she was just as affected by this scenario as he was.

  “You need to take off your shoes,” she said.

  He met her amused stare. “Because…?”

  “Because we’re going to the beach and you don’t want to get sand in your shoes. Come on, Jack.” She drawled out his name in a husky purr. “Use your imagination.”

  He reached out and fingered the hem on her makeshift skirt. “Trust me, sweetheart, my imagination’s working just fine.”

  So were other strategic body parts. Wondering what the hell she had on beneath the short skirt would keep him erect all evening. He wondered how far she’d take this invitation and knew he couldn’t wait to find out.

  Her flush turned into a full-fledged blush. The blush intrigued him most of all. Although she toyed with him deliberately, he knew now the seductive charm and come-hither games didn’t come easily to her. He sensed, too, that she didn’t play like this often. Instead of sending him running, the possibility drew him deeper.

  Jack had never been into too-innocent women, if only because they tended to expect too much in the end. But Mallory was different. She was provocative in a sultry, sexy way that turned him on and made him want to explore those uncharted waters. But she was also an independent, gutsy woman who wouldn’t demand all from a man and give nothing in return.

 

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