But she noticed was how nice he looked in the dim candlelight. He was tan, although she wondered how he did it with his schedule. Plus he didn't seem like the type to sun himself by the pool.
His hair was neatly combed back, his wide shoulders strained against his light blue shirt, while a few buttons were undone at the neck.
But the worst part for her was the way he lounged back in his seat, calmly observing her. And she was sure he knew the impression he made, and how it made her feel.
"Your posture is horrible," she finally told him.
He raised his eyebrows but didn't move. "Is that right?"
The waiter brought their lasagna then, and she was glad for the interruption. And Ramsey finally scooted forward in his seat.
While they ate, and chatted about his exercises, her flu, his best friend Warren, Natalie, and a host of other things, she realized she was finally comfortable talking with him.
As a flash went off, he cursed, and moved quickly towards the paparazzi, spoke with the man, and handed him a bill.
"Don't worry about that, darlin,'" he said as he sat back down, "I paid him off."
Back at the hotel, she went to open the door to her room, then turned back to find his arms coming to rest against the door on either side of her face, while his mouth was just inches from hers.
"Have a good time, sweet pea?" he whispered.
Her eyes came up and met his, as she smelled mint and aftershave.
"Yes, thank you," she mumbled.
"We ready for the best part of my day?"
"Certainly. Just let me set up. About ten minutes." And she pushed the door open, as she heard him laughing softly.
Exactly ten minutes later, he knocked on the adjoining door and strolled in.
She'd set up the table, and glanced at him. "You know the drill."
He laughed, as he shucked his shirt off. "Pants?"
"Would be best," she told him shortly.
After he lay on the table face down, she asked him, as she squirted lotion on him and he flinched from the cold, "How are your muscles the way they are?"
His voice already sounded hazy as she worked on him, "What do you mean, darlin'?"
"They're just nice...I mean, toned. Well, never mind."
She wasn't about to get into that ball of wax and tell him the powerful muscles were hard like steel, in his back and his arms; his buttock muscles were toned, and his leg muscles sturdy. He almost seemed to move with her, as she massaged his fine body with her lotions.
"I used to be in better shape," he said quietly, "before."
Better than this? She thought. "My," was all she could say.
Fifteen minutes passed quickly, and she said, "Okay. That's it for today. I'm a little tired, too."
He turned towards her, on his side, fixing her in his turquoise gaze. "Sorry, sweet pea," he whispered. There was the tone to his voice again; it caused a heavy sensation between her legs. But, she found she couldn't look away from his intense stare.
He whispered still, "You turn me on, darlin.' Every lovin' thing you do. The massage just tips it off for me."
Wrapped in his male, aftershave scent, she began to say something, but words left her.
Her eyes flitted over him, and she realized as she looked below his waist, he was hard, rock hard. Turning away, her breath came out finally. "It's time...time for you to go now," she told him quietly.
After he gathered his things and left, she sat on the bed and hung her head, as she sighed with frustration.
Chapter 7
The next morning, at seven o'clock, Ram called her. "Rise and shine, darlin,'" he said, "Going to the Bahamas today."
"Oh my gosh," she whispered, "how soon?" And she had the sinking feeling her clothes were all dirty.
"Nine. You'll be ready then?"
"Sure," she replied dismally, "no problem."
When she perused her clothes, only a few were left clean. She chose a crop top with flare jeans and boots, and a sweatshirt as she remembered the plane being chilly. That was one of the few things she recalled about the first flight.
After she'd had some toast and coffee from room service, she just waited for him. And, waited for him. And, waited for him some more, watching TV morning news. Checking her watch, she realized it was nine-thirty.
He laughed as he answered her phone call. "I know, I know, I'm late. Hey you aren't the only one who can be tardy you know."
She sniffed. "Just checking." And, she hung up.
Five minutes later, he knocked and strolled into her room. "Ready?"
"I've been ready."
"Really?"
The double entendre was not lost on her and she frowned. "I've got so many dirty clothes. I don't suppose you have a washer and dryer on that plane?"
"Not yet," he said dryly, "we're working on it. Besides, you look fine to me. Just fine. And we'll get them washed for you in Nassau."
He thought he really liked her crop top look. It was a total turn on for him, and he had to fight the urge to run his hand down her hair, which she wore loose today. "Out the back, as usual," he told her, "the porter will follow, just leave your bag."
Gently guiding her by the arm, they went down the service elevator in the back of the hotel.
She was silent on the taxi ride to the airport, and silent again as they went through security.
Once in the plane, he asked, "You took your airsick pill?"
She nodded and sat in the captain's chair across from him.
He noticed her hands gripping the arms of the chair, as they rose quickly into the clouds.
After a minimum of turbulence, he asked politely, "You doin' okay, then?"
She nodded again.
"What?" he asked.
"Just a mood, I'll get over it."
He smiled, thinking she was mad at him for being late, like she usually was...late for everything. "I want to ask you about..."
Looking at him now, she said, "What?"
"Who's Gram?" he asked.
"None of your business."
"Talk now. Talk. We're just passing time here, Jace."
She felt like his eyes were boring a hole through her, as she replied, "What part of none of your business do you not understand?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Guess I've been told." And he picked up a magazine from the glass table and began leafing through it.
"I'm sorry. It's no secret I guess," she said, after a pause of several minutes.
"Tell me about it," he said, throwing the magazine down.
They both unfastened their seat belts as the plane leveled out, and he leaned forward.
"Well," she began, "obviously she was my grandmother." Tears welled up in her eyes, and her hand came to her mouth.
He was silent, just observing her warmly now, not saying anything.
"She raised me. I just remember my mother coming to Gram's house one time. I hid because they were yelling at one another. My mother wanted money, and Gram didn't want to give it to her because she said my mother would buy drugs with it. And my mother never even said good-bye to me."
"And what did your mother look like? I'm really a visual person. Describe her. Describe your Gran."
"My mother had the same hair color as mine, shorter, messy looking. And her face was sunken, like she hadn't eaten for a while. Then Gran just had white hair ever since I could recall. And she was short."
"And your father?" he asked softly, shifting a bit in his seat.
"Do you need me to work on you?" she asked.
"Not just yet. I took a pain pill earlier. Your father?"
"He died when I was a baby, apparently. I've seen pictures of him in Gran's house, but that's all. He had black hair, and dark eyes. Handsome. He was Gran's only son, really all that was left of her family."
"What did he die of, do you know?"
She scanned his face with her eyes, and he watched her eye color changing from brown to almost a light brown with gold flecks more noticeable. And she hesit
ated before she said, "A car accident. I'm sorry to bring that up."
He shrugged, but Jace could sense a slight change in him. He said, "It's part of my life. Actually a part of everyone's life. Who doesn't know someone who's life was cut short by a car accident?"
"At any rate," Jace continued, trying to skirt around the sensitive issue, "Gran was my mother and father both. She'd help me with my homework, took me to my gymnastics classes and came to all the parent's nights at school. All the kids liked her. She was a favorite. They'd all come and hang out at our house after school."
The tears were back and ran down her cheeks now as she stared at the plane's portholes.
"What happened?" he asked gently.
"A fire. I woke up in the middle of the night, walked out to the hallway, smelled the smoke, and saw flames three feet high in front of me. I ran back and shut my door. I didn't know what to do. We never talked about that possibility, you know, fire in the house.
My window was open, and I jumped down from the second story, actually, hung from the gutter, then dropped. The hose was right there. I turned it on full blast and screamed for the neighbor." Her voice softened. "I couldn't save her. I tried going back in the house through the rear door. But there was a giant back-draft that blew me off my feet."
She wiped at her tears with one hand. "I tried. Then I just screamed and screamed. I don't remember anything else." She sobbed.
"Come with me," he said gently, as he led her to the bedroom. Pulling her down, he lay next to her, and opened his arms, drew her in close, closer, stroking her hair and murmuring softly in her ear.
He ignored his hardness which always seemed to come with being close to this woman.
She took a shaky breath before she returned his hug, with her arms around his waist.
When she woke later, she realized they'd fallen asleep, as she heard his even breaths.
But when she tried to move away, his arms tightened around her. "Mmmm," he said softly, "don't move. You fit into me perfectly right there."
She had to admit, it felt good holding someone close for a change, and she relaxed.
Ram began whispering in her ear, unintelligible sounds, and she found the familiar heavy sensation begin inside her, settling now between her legs. He always seemed to produce it, with his looks, his voice, and his whispers.
And Ram thought she was so very sexy in his arms, so sensual as she moved slightly closer, and edged towards his hardness.
It was on her now, moving, thrusting, and he heard her slow release of breath.
"What turns you on, sweet pea?" he whispered, as his hands roved her smooth back, then her hair. "Are you my sweet pea?"
A small noise was his response, and he brought her even closer to him.
She reached around trying to unhook her bra.
"Not yet," he whispered, smiling, "you didn't answer me."
She said slowly, "I don't think I'm anyone's 'sweet pea.'"
"Think again," he whispered against her lips, before his mouth came down hard on hers.
His tongue flitted in and out, tasting, tantalizing her, before his lips barely touched hers again. "Say it," he urged, "tell me what you feel. Tell me what you like."
She moaned, "My breasts..."
Ram unhooked her bra with one stroke of his hand.
Pulling up her top, and the bra with it, his breath came out in a long sigh while his thumb came up and stroked her nipples, one then the other.
Arching towards him, she moved in a sensual rhythm, as he pulled back to look at her. "You are just the most beautiful little woman I think I've ever seen," he whispered. His lips kissed down her neck, to her breasts. Bringing his hand up to knead them, his tongue rolled on her nipples, before he sucked them each, one then the other.
"You like that, sweet thing?" he said softly, kissing her lips, not giving her time to answer. He'd waited so long to do this, he wanted it to last, and he wanted to last for her, bring her to her peak.
He tasted her lips with his tongue, and he couldn't resist rolling on top of her now, as he thrust against her, while she responded in kind.
Jace felt his hardness and wanted him inside her. He whispered against her ear while he thrust himself, kissed her neck then her breasts.
Holding his head with both her hands, she pressed him hard on her breasts, and his hand came up underneath her, holding her hips up to meet his.
Quickly as he could, he moved and took her boots and pants off, even her underwear. Just her crop top was left.
Lying next to her again, his hand roved her hips, her legs, then between her legs.
She moaned, while his fingers stroked her expertly, and he continued whispering, rolling her, fingers inside her now, as her eyes flew open, then closed again.
"Look at me," he whispered urgently.
She opened her eyes.
"Come for me."
Her eyes fluttered.
"Come for me," he whispered again urgently, but she could tell he was smiling as he said it.
He laughed softly, as his fingers ran in and out of her.
Her body stiffened, and she cried out with pleasure, as he rubbed her quickly, expertly, while she found her release.
Drawing her leg over his, spreading her legs more now, his fingers barely touched like velvet, she thought, gasping at the sensation he caused.
Ram knew she was close, and he whispered, "Come for me, sweet thing. Are you ready? Mmmm..."
He slowed his fingers, felt her softness, reveling in it, loving it, loving her. Soon, he felt her inside squeeze tight, as he watched her lashes flutter on her closed eyes, and she cried out, as his fingers delved further inside her.
"Come again," he whispered insistently, "Come for Ram, sweet...sweet." And his lips came down on her breasts, sucking, nipping softly, while she gasped and moved her hips in rhythm.
But the plane jiggled back and forth then, and the captain buzzed him.
Cursing softly, Ram gathered up her pants, and said, "We need to buckle up, sweet thing." Then looking down at her flushed face, "We can continue later," he said gently.
She nodded as she dressed quickly, and they both went out to sit in the captain chairs.
Jace fastened her seatbelt and felt like someone had let the air out of her.
But, she also noticed Ram wasn't saying too much. He avoided eye contact and gazed at some spot above her head, as a muscle twitched in his jaw.
"Is anything wrong?" she asked him.
"Nothin,'" he replied quickly, as the plane jostled them around.
She gazed at him curiously for at least ten minutes then watched as he brought his right hand up to his mouth, rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, and breathed deeply.
His eyes came back to hers, his look heated now. "The scent of you, woman. The beautiful fragrance."
She felt his physical impact then, all that was Ram, from his wavy blond hair, to his black boots. Her eyes roamed over his frame, his chest muscles she could see now, peeking through his unbuttoned shirt, his broad shoulders, slim waist, casual blue jeans. The totality of him hit her like a physical blow, as she remembered his expert hands, guiding her, inflaming her until she cried out.
Then, a slight smile appeared on his face, while his tongue appeared and rolled around his lips. Keeping the tongue on his lower lip for seconds, he grinned and laughed softly.
Now, she wanted him physically and she could almost taste it. Pulling her eyes from him, she said, "What's so funny?" But her voice came out weaker than she would have liked.
"Nothin,'" he repeated, while she could just about feel the grin on his face while he said the words.
The door to the cockpit opened then, and a dark-haired man came out.
Ram looked up at him. "Hey Mac. Meet Jacine."
She shook his hand, and thought he was around thirty-five, with a nice build and clean cut face with a square jaw.
"Who's flying?" Ram asked.
"Auto pilot."
Jace blanched, bu
t said nothing. Her hand came up and patted her stomach.
"You all right, darlin'?" Ram asked her.
"Think I'll lie down," she said, looking at the pilot now, "unless we'll have more turbulence."
"I think we're in the clear," he said. "Let you know if anything changes." Then to Ram he said, "Just stretching my legs."
He continued, in a low tone, as Jace disappeared into the bedroom, "Where'd you meet her?"
Ram chuckled. "She's a physical therapist I hired for my back problems."
"Some guys have all the luck, you dog," Mac laughed.
"Got some society chicks I could introduce you to," Ram said.
"Nah. Too uptight. Had one once. Didn't last long."
"Gotta know how to treat 'em, my man."
"That goes both ways," Mac said before he went into the cabin again.
Ram looked out the portal to the clouds below them. And he realized this was one of those days when he was haunted by his wife's smiling face.
And he thought he might be too attached to Jace already. What if she rejected him in the end? He wasn't sure if he could take that. She was just so different from the other women he knew. Strong, independent, capable, yet soft, pliable, sensual without even knowing it.
In the end, his physical needs overran his mental quandaries.
He walked to the bedroom and looked down at her while she slept. Giving up, he lay behind her, inching his hand down under her waist, with his other hand pulling her to him.
Jace felt his hard chest against her back, and his hardness pressing against her buttocks. She moaned at the sensation, but it wasn't enough.
Turning in his arms, her lips found his in a hard kiss, and her leg came over him. Her tongue moved in his mouth, before she drew back and held her lips against his lightly.
"Sweet," he murmured, kissing her upper lip, then the lower, sucking and tasting her, "Sweet."
Romance in Dallas - Tycoon! Page 6