by Nina Croft
“Well, for a start, you’ll need a dress.”
…
It was still early, and all was quiet. Kim peered around the door. She didn’t want a repeat of the last morning she’d woken in Jake’s spare room. Not that she believed that would happen—Jake had said the next move must come from her, and he was a man of his word.
She needed coffee, so she dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, ready for her shopping trip, and headed for the kitchen.
She’d moved in last evening, and so far, Jake had been the perfect host.
He hadn’t touched her. Unfortunately, that didn’t matter. She was hot and bothered being in the same house as him. She tried to remember how she’d felt living with Michael. Michael had been controlling, he’d picked her clothes, decided where she went, who she went with. And she’d been too ashamed by how pathetic he’d insinuated she was to fight him. And too scared by the despair twisting her mind to find a way out. She understood now that it hadn’t all been Michael, but that she had never come to terms with her mother’s death or the belief that her mother had felt trapped in a loveless marriage, like Kim had come to feel. Never talked to anyone about it, just let her fears and suspicions fester inside her. Marriage to Michael brought her face-to-face with those fears. And that had nearly broken her.
She wouldn’t get into that situation ever again. And while she loved Jake dearly as a friend, she had no illusions as to his nature. He liked to be in control.
But he was obviously on his best behavior right now.
Kim was on her second cup of coffee when he made an appearance. She glanced up and then quickly away. “Er…clothes would be good here,” she muttered into her mug.
He’d obviously showered. His black hair glistened with moisture, he smelled of soap and aftershave, and he was utterly stunning, all sleek muscle and golden skin wrapped up in a tiny white towel. Her eyes locked on the place where it was tucked in at his hips. It seemed a little precarious. One tug and…
She went all hot and wet just looking at him, but luckily, from his bland expression, he didn’t seem to notice her reaction.
Why did his blandness make her uneasy? Like she was missing an important part of some big picture.
He moved with the grace of a great jungle cat, prowling the kitchen, pouring himself a coffee, and finally settling in the chair opposite, long, hair-roughened legs stretched out in front of him. “Did you sleep well?”
No, she hadn’t. She’d tossed, and she’d turned. “Good, thanks.”
He scrutinized her from head to toe—she was completely covered—and frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“You seem flustered, that’s all.”
Maybe a little truth was needed here. “I’m not used to having breakfast with nearly naked men.”
“Under normal circumstances I’d be totally naked.”
An image flashed up in her mind, and she only just resisted fanning herself. Instead, she pursed her lips. “Thanks for sharing.”
“You want something to eat?”
“You going to cook me breakfast?”
“Why not?”
Kim didn’t know he could cook—she’d thought his housekeeper did all that. She watched, trying to get her head around “domesticated Jake” while he wandered around the kitchen, still in his towel, collecting ingredients.
He stood with his back to her at the stove, cooking her omelet, and she stared her fill. He had a lovely back, broad at the shoulders, narrow at the waist, smooth and sleek with powerful muscles moving underneath. Her physical hunger stirred.
Unfortunately—not for eggs.
She kept her attention fixed on her food while she ate. The omelet was delicious, rich with herbs and perfectly cooked. The toast, crisp and buttery, but Kim couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with the world. Jake seemed so relaxed. Maybe he was happy to go back to being friends. She was the problem. She was the one who couldn’t stop thinking about—
“What are you up to today?” Jake asked.
“Shopping.”
“You want me to come?”
“No.” Though at least he’d have to put some clothes on, which would be an improvement…or not.
Heaving a huge sigh, she pushed away her plate and got to her feet. “Thanks for breakfast.” She had the weirdest urge to peck him on the cheek and say have a nice day or something similar, like an old married couple. Instead, she headed for the door. She gave him one last quick glance; he watched her out of hooded eyes, a small smile playing on his beautiful lips. It vanished when he caught her gaze. He raised his cup.
“Seven thirty tonight?”
“I’ll be here.”
Chapter Twelve
The party to celebrate Jake’s father’s sixtieth birthday was taking place in a hotel in the center of London, and there were five hundred guests, so it was hardly a typical birthday party. But Jake had told her that anything went as far as dress code was concerned—she didn’t need to be formal. What she needed to do was exert her own personality, though she wasn’t sure what that was. She suspected somewhere between skintight leather pants and elegant long black dresses. But probably no longer loose-fitting khakis, Doc Martens, and a T-shirt.
In the end, she hadn’t bought a dress, but red silk palazzo pants that clung to her hips and then flared out. To complete the ensemble, she wore a matching top, cut off at her midriff to show the belly button ring she was quite fond of.
Jakes eyes lingered on the little jewel when she emerged from the spare room at seven twenty-five. But he just nodded and said, “Very nice,” in a totally colorless tone.
Tonight, with any luck, they’d persuade Nadia that Jake was a lost cause, and life could return to normal. Though she couldn’t imagine life ever being normal again. In fact, she had no clue what normal was anymore.
Jake, dressed in black pants and a black silk shirt open at the throat, guided her into the elevator, across the lobby, and out into the evening. The air was warm.
“Have you gotten your dad a present?” she asked as they hovered for a second outside the door to the ballroom. She could already hear the party in full swing on the other side.
“Yes. A parachute jump.”
“You bought your sixty-year-old father a parachute jump for his birthday?”
“Well, you and I did, actually—it’s a joint present. And he’s never done one before.”
“I suppose there’s always a first time for jumping out of airplanes, isn’t there?” She took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
He touched her on the arm, and she hesitated before turning to him.
His gaze ran down over her. “I just wanted you to know you look incredibly sexy in that outfit.”
“I do?”
“Yes, you do—thank you for making such an effort. I’m sure Nadia will be suitably impressed.”
Did that mean he wasn’t?
She shook her head; she was overthinking everything. This was a favor to a friend. Once Nadia was well and truly out of the picture, Jake would be grateful and would no doubt up her grade and let her go shoot someone.
A band played in the far end of the room. Something she didn’t recognize, but smooth and mellow. They paused inside the doorway. At first she didn’t see anyone she knew, but then she saw Jake’s mother and father across the room, at the center of a knot of people.
Jake and his father had the same brilliant blue eyes; otherwise, there were no similarities. Jake’s father was a couple of inches shorter than his mother, with sandy hair and a stocky build. A self-made man, he’d started his business forty years ago with nothing and built it into a multibillion-dollar international company.
Jake got his looks from his mother, who’d been a successful model. She was tall and willowy with Jake’s midnight-black hair.
He’d once told her that his mother had been a trophy wife, but they’d fallen madly in love after they married. It sounded a little far-fetche
d to Kim, but they seemed genuinely fond of each other.
Kim jumped when someone tapped her on the arm. It was Jake’s sister Abby. She grinned. “Love your outfit,” she murmured. “So much better than a towel.”
“Thank you,” Kim said. “I did consider the towel, but Jake asked for it back. I thought he wanted to wear it himself.”
“Nah, Jake’s way too conscious of being cool.” Abby took a sip of champagne. “Did you know Nadia was here?” she asked Jake.
“She told me she was coming.”
“And she’s been making it very clear that as far as she’s concerned, the two of you are still an item.” She glanced from Kim to Jake. “So what’s going on?”
“None of your business.”
“Aw, come on, Jake.”
He shrugged. “Nadia is deluded.”
“Well, I was surprised when you started seeing her. Though you never seemed to have much taste in women.” She glanced at Kim, and then widened her eyes as she realized she’d been less than diplomatic. “Present company aside, of course.”
“Of course,” Kim replied drily.
“Come on,” Jake said. “I’ll get you a drink.”
They collected a couple of glasses of champagne and then made a circuit of the room. Kim kept her eyes peeled but only spotted Nadia after the circuit was complete. She stood beside one of the tall pillars, a glass in her hand, her eyes narrowed to slits.
“If looks could kill,” Kim murmured.
“Time to act,” Jake replied.
Before she could ask what he meant, he reached out and took her hand, raising it to his lips. He dropped a kiss into her palm, and a tingle ran along her nerve endings.
Pulling her against him, he whispered in her ear, “Come on, Kim, make like you love me.”
She could do this. Think undercover operative. She stared up into Jake’s face, his beautiful eyes, his stern mouth that had kissed her, given her pleasure. She was so close she could breathe in the unique scent of him, warm man and exotic aftershave, sharp and clean and familiar.
What would it be like to allow herself to love a man like Jake? Of course, she had no intention of doing that. And it would be pointless; Jake wasn’t the kind of man to fall in love—he was way too cool.
But what would it be like?
How would she behave? What would it take to convince Nadia that they were in love?
“You’re thinking awfully hard,” Jake said.
“Well, I don’t know how to pretend I’m in love with you. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about, and I’m a bit lost.”
“For a start, you could look at me as though every second until you get me alone and naked is wasted time.” His voice was low and husky and sent shivers running down her spine. Boy, he was a good actor.
Jake laid a hand on the bare skin of her waist. She jumped. A small smile curved his lips, and then he gently urged her toward the wall, where they were still in full view of the rest of the room.
He took her glass of champagne from her fingers and placed it on a small table. “So…?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could still see Nadia. Though she didn’t have to see her, she could feel the intensity of the other woman’s evil eye.
Kim took a deep breath, then a step back so she could take him all in. Closing her eyes, she imagined what was beneath his clothes. She didn’t need much imagination because she’d seen him in all his naked glory. All those muscles, the long, sleek lines of him, the silky dark hair that bisected his belly. His shaft, long and hard, and…
Since he’d said that thing about her mouth around his dick, she hadn’t been able to get the vivid picture out of her head. She’d never tasted a man there, and now the thought of it sent moisture flooding her core. She licked her lips and heard him mutter something.
Her lids flew open, and she stared at him wide-eyed. “So what next?” she asked a little breathlessly.
“Touch me.”
“Touch you…where?” Her mouth went dry, and her gaze darted down the length of his body to settle on his groin. She couldn’t seem to keep her mind above his waist. What was wrong with her?
He groaned. “Not there. At least not in front of all these people.”
“So where?”
“Just little touches as though you can’t keep your hands off me.” He wrapped his fingers around hers and drew her hand toward his body, then flattened her palm against his chest. Even through the silk of his shirt, his skin felt warm. She slid her hand over him until she reached the front of his shirt and then delved inside to touch his bare skin. She watched his face as her fingers encountered his nipple. His eyes closed briefly as she scraped her nail over the flat nub.
“Good,” he said, and his voice sounded hoarse. “Now my turn.”
He studied her for a moment, his hot gaze gliding over her. After stroking her belly with his fingertips, he trailed over the ring in her navel then gave it a little tug. The skin was still tender from the piercing, but strangely, the pain felt more like pleasure, and heat flooded her sex.
“I like this,” he said giving it another tug.
She shifted a little as another jolt of sensation shot along her nerves to settle between her thighs. But nothing could happen here. It felt good not to worry about the consequences—this was only acting, after all. “You like it? I thought you’d hate it. I was going to get a tattoo as well, but I ran out of time.”
“Forget it.” He grinned. “Unless it’s stamped across your ass and says, ‘property of Jake Knight.’”
“Never going to happen.”
She glanced around the room. Nadia was talking to Jake’s other sister, Tania, but kept darting glances their way.
Jake followed her gaze. “I reckon she needs a little more convincing.”
“Well, there’s not much we can do in the middle of a crowded party.”
“Is that a challenge?”
She shot him a stern look. And he grinned. “It’s amazing what you can do if you’re discreet.”
His words sent a thrill running through her. She ignored it. Almost. “Yes, but the whole point is that she sees. So that would be defeating the object, wouldn’t it?”
“But it might be fun.”
“We’re not here for fun. We’re here to save you from stalker madwoman.”
“You’re right.”
Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he took her by the shoulders, spun her around, backed her against the wall, and kissed her.
It was official—he was an excellent actor.
He kissed her like he loved her, needed her, would never get enough of her.
He slanted his lips over hers and forced his hard tongue inside her mouth. For a second she fought her body’s instinctive reactions, but it felt so good. She relaxed her defenses, and suddenly she was kissing him back. Her tongue sliding into his mouth, tasting him, stroking along the hard edges of his teeth. He didn’t touch her anywhere besides her mouth, but her whole being ached with need, her skin prickly, a pulse throbbing between her thighs.
She lost all track of time. After an age, he pulled free. He bent closer and rested his forehead against hers. They both panted heavily. Finally, he straightened.
“You are such a good…actor,” she said.
He twisted his lips into the semblance of a smile. “You, too. Come on. If that hasn’t convinced the whole room that I want you, then nothing will.”
Slowly the party came back into focus. She glanced around and found a number of people watching them. She fought the need to fan her face, but it was only a kiss. Not as though they’d stripped naked and had wild, hot sex in the middle of the dance floor.
“Who’s the man over there watching us?” she asked. “The one with the big grin on his face.”
“I’ll introduce you.”
She guessed who it must be as they drew closer. He had a look of Jake about him, except he appeared more relaxed.
“This is Damon,” Jake said. “My b
rother.”
Damon leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. “That was quite a performance.”
“Simply trying to make a point,” Jake replied.
“Ah—Nadia, I presume.”
Jake nodded. “This is Kimberly.” He turned to Kim. “You could say you and I met because of Damon.”
“We did?”
“Yes. He was supposed to take over Dad’s company but had a premature midlife crisis and decided he wanted to be a painter instead.”
“An artist, please—a painter sounds like I decorate houses.”
“Anyway, that’s why I left the army and set up the security company, and the reason I was in your building back when you were married to that bastard.”
“What were you doing there?” Kim frowned. “You never really said.”
He looked a little shifty. “Just surveillance on one of the residents.”
She wanted to ask more because she had a weird notion, but at that moment, Jake’s mother approached them.
“Did you have to?” she muttered to Jake. “A parachute jump. What were you thinking?”
Jake grinned. “He’ll enjoy it.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
Kim allowed the conversation to flow over her. They were a nice family, and it was obvious they were close. She’d never had that and felt a faint glimmer of regret. Things hadn’t been too bad while her mother was alive. But she’d died in a car crash when Kim was ten.
Without warning, she was back in that night. Her mother yelling… “You don’t love me. You wouldn’t care if I was dead.” The door slamming. The police… She shoved the memory back into its corner.
Her father had never married again. Kim found it amazing he’d married at all. He was a loner, immersed in his work, something secretive for the British government. He’d found Kim an encumbrance and an irritation. She’d spent most of her time at boarding school, even the holidays, with the exception of a week each year they vacationed together. It had never been a happy time.
He didn’t dislike her, she was sure, but he did resent her. And she’d never been able to feel comfortable with him. The questions hovering over her mother’s death, the questions she hadn’t dared ask, had ensured that. And when she’d left school, he hadn’t known what to do with her. She had a place at Oxford but didn’t want to go. She was fed up with education, needed to do something, work out what she wanted from life. And then she’d met Michael.