Impossible to Resist

by Janice Maynard

  She was pacing the floor, waiting on him, when the door opened. Holy Hannah. The man gazing at her with such heat was heartthrob material. He had dressed up, as well, though she suspected he had patronized one of the upscale menswear shops in town.

  Dark gray linen slacks molded to his long, lanky thighs. He wore leather deck shoes with no socks. Broad shoulders strained the seams of a heather-gray linen blazer layered over a cream silk crew-neck shirt. Except for the very dark hair, he had the look of a young Kennedy, classy, rich, oozing charisma.

  She gulped inwardly. “I’m ready if you are.”

  He walked toward her, and to her deep chagrin, she backed up, bumping into the wall.

  His rakish grin said he knew exactly how he affected her. “Tonight you really are a princess,” he muttered, putting his hands on her shoulders and stroking down her arms until he gripped her wrists. Holding her hands away from her body, he gazed his fill.

  Her heart racketed away in her chest. Straightening her spine, she tilted her chin to meet him eye to eye. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Sort of a Greek god out on the town. I see you’ve been shopping.”

  He shrugged. “A necessary evil. I didn’t want you to be ashamed of me.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a navy velvet box. “But I bought something for you, as well.”

  “I’m always up for receiving gifts, but why? We aren’t done with the movie.”

  He shook his head, smiling wryly. “It’s your birthday, Ariel.”

  “Oh.” So it was. Her mom usually made a big fuss, but they were hundreds of miles apart. “I never know what day it is when we’re on island time.”

  “Unbelievable.” He shook his head.

  “How did you find out?”

  “I looked at your passport one day. Presumptuous of me, I know. But I was curious about all those stamps you’ve collected. Pretty impressive. Go ahead,” he said. “Open it.”

  She slowly flipped the lid, crying out in surprise and delight. Nestled in a cushion was a small pin, a crown no larger than a nickel. The base of the piece was covered in tiny diamonds, and the top was studded with even smaller rubies, emeralds and sapphires.

  Any larger, and it would have been gaudy. But sized as it was, it was perfect. “This must have cost a fortune,” she said. “I’m not sure it’s appropriate for me to accept it. You’re the one doing me a favor.”

  He frowned. “It’s rude to talk about price. Put the damn thing on and let’s go.”

  “What did I say to make you angry?” She was genuinely puzzled. “It’s a lovely gift, Jacob.” She pinned it at the spot where one strap met the bodice of her dress. The little tiara glittered with sassy charm. It was a rare man who could select a gift so incredibly perfect. Jacob knew her well.

  She leaned up to kiss him softly. “I love it. I really do. I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful.”

  His lips moved reluctantly beneath hers before he stepped back. “I’m not doing you a favor,” he said bluntly. “I’m a doctor fulfilling my responsibilities.”

  “I thought you were my friend.” It was true that in the beginning she had sought him out because of his reputation as a physician. But now she wanted something entirely different from him.

  He stared at her, his eyes hot with barely concealed hunger. “I don’t know what we are, Ariel. That’s the problem.”

  It heartened her to know that he was struggling. That surely meant he cared. But Jacob Wolff was not a man to be manipulated or maneuvered into doing something he thought was wrong.

  Perhaps it was up to her to show him how right they could be.

  Thirteen

  Jacob cursed the impulse that had led him to buy her a gift. The damp sheen in her eyes and her dumbfounded expression told him she was reading things into his offering that he hadn’t intended.

  It was just a damn pin, albeit an expensive one.

  The truth was, he’d wanted to buy her something pretty and fun. The birthday had been his excuse. She was so easy to please, it made a man want to indulge her. Doubtless, he wasn’t the first boyfriend eager to see her smile, and he wouldn’t be the last.

  He escorted her out to the car. Ariel had trouble negotiating the high seat of the SUV in her nonsensical footwear, so Jacob took her by the waist and lifted her up into the passenger seat.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, her face aglow with happiness.

  He touched the tip of her nose with a finger. “Anything for the princess.”

  Harriet had delivered the vehicle washed and waxed and with a tank full of gas. Jacob had thanked Ariel’s P.A. with a light peck on the cheek, which seemed to both please her and mystify her. She was an odd creature, but clearly devoted to her job.

  Fortunately for Jacob, she had been willing to entrust the keys to someone other than herself.

  The drive up to the high point of the island was curvy but doable, even in a large vehicle. Ariel, unusually quiet, sat with her hands tucked around her small purse as she took in the sights and sounds.

  Jacob pulled into a parking area and squeezed between a VW bug and a Lexus. After helping Ariel out, he took her hand. “Watch out,” he said. “The pavement isn’t smooth.”

  He led her to the front door of a two-story structure that looked as if it had been there since the First World War. Windows dotted all sides of both stories. Colorful awnings provided protection from the sun while letting in the stiff ocean breezes. From somewhere inside, a steel drum beat out the rhythm of a Jimmy Buffett song.

  Ariel urged him forward. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get a seat before things get too crowded.”

  He stalled. “Don’t you want to watch the sunset?” A quick glance at his watch said they had arrived earlier than he intended.

  Ariel pushed past him, the toes of her sexy shoes practically tapping in impatience. “Since we’re only friends,” she said pointedly, “no thanks. I’m ready to dance.”

  He reached beyond her and flung open the door. The interior was dim and cool. His eyes struggled to adjust.

  Suddenly, light flooded the room, and about six dozen voices shouted in unison. “Surprise!”

  Ariel stopped dead, reaching for his hand in an unconscious gesture of nerves. “Jacob?” she said urgently.

  All around them cast and crew beamed out a greeting. Several of them were more boisterous than others, obviously getting a head start on the bar tab. Rod Brinkman—irascible, cantankerous Rod—smiled. “Happy birthday, Ariel.”

  Jacob watched as she blushed from her throat to her forehead. She covered her cheeks with both hands. “I don’t know what to say.”

  One of the gaffers, well on his way to being sloshed, shouted from a far corner. “Play the damn music and let’s party.”

  Everyone broke into laughter and returned to their seats, leaving Jacob and Ariel to find their way to a table hosted by the director. The drums picked up pace again, and soon the small dance floor was filled. Brinkman patted Ariel’s hand. “Hope you don’t mind. The wardrobe staff came up with the idea. They happen to think you hung the moon.”

  Seeing the usually irrepressible Ariel momentarily speechless was worth the price of admission as far as Jacob was concerned. For the next half hour she was uncharacteristically quiet as they dug into the food Rod had ordered. Oysters on the half shell, shrimp cocktail, and at last, a fresh coconut pie. When Jacob was satisfied that she had eaten enough, he leaned closer to be heard over the ruckus. “You still hungry? Or do you want to dance?”

  She laid her purse on the table and took his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  As if on cue, the band segued into a tropical version of Elton John’s “Can You Feel the Love Tonight.” Jacob clasped Ariel’s fingers with his and pulled her into his arms. His free hand found a place on her back, lightly stroking her spine as they moved to the music.

  She rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I thought it was going to be just us tonight.”

  “Do you mind terribly? They were all so
keen to surprise you.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. I’m touched. I’m a very lucky woman.”

  The hint of melancholy in her voice troubled him. “Are you okay, Ariel? Have you had bad news about your mother?”

  “No. I talked to her this afternoon and things are about the same.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “The crew,” she said slowly. “And the cast. When I’m shooting a movie, I get so close to many of these people. It seems like a family at times, but it’s not the same, not really.”

  He was silent, trying to decipher the words she wasn’t saying. “It’s not a bad thing to love the way you do, Ariel. You give of yourself without reservation. And people respond to you. There are many kinds of families.”

  “I envy you yours. I guess you think that’s strange or insensitive given your past, but you have siblings and cousins. When my mom is gone, I won’t have anyone at all.”

  “You don’t have aunts and uncles tucked away somewhere?”

  “I asked years ago… My mother wasn’t very forthcoming. She was an only child like I am, and I assume my father’s family didn’t want anything to do with us.”

  “Why don’t you ask her again?”

  “I can’t. Not now. She would realize I’m asking because I know she’s dying.”

  He kissed her temple. “I’ll share mine with you. The family, I mean. Believe me, there are times I’d gladly give them away.”

  “You’re lying,” she said with a choked laugh.

  But he had accomplished his mission. She was smiling again.

  Ariel felt amazing in his arms, perfectly made to fit against his chest. Their legs brushed as they danced. He wished they were alone, but this was better for her sake. Jacob was surrounded by dozens of built-in chaperones. He could do nothing about his arousal that pulsed between them.

  Ariel had to notice. They were close enough to be making love if the setting had been different.

  One song ended, and another began. As if by design, the band had given up its earlier, fast-paced play list and was now reminding the audience that a fabulous moon hung above, illuminating the view of English Harbor below.

  Jacob steered Ariel out onto the terrace and into a patch of shadows. “You deserve a birthday kiss,” he murmured, dragging her flush up against him, his hands at her hips.

  She tipped back her head, her hair glossy even in the gloom. “I would have thought a spanking was more in order according to you.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” He started at her forehead with chaste, light brushes of his lips. Her familiar perfume, light and evocative, teased his nostrils. “Happy birthday, Ariel.”

  She dragged his head lower, finding his mouth with hers. “I’m a year older now,” she whispered. “And twenty-three is only seven years younger than thirty. If you round the numeral seven down, it’s only five. That’s nothing at all.”

  “I’m still your doctor.”

  “I’ve never felt healthier.”

  Her arms curled around his neck, forcing him to support her weight as she balanced on those totally impractical shoes. His mouth moved over hers lazily, his tongue rubbing her lips, sliding inside when she moaned.

  “We have to talk,” he said hoarsely. He was no longer able to pretend that he could resist her. With several weeks of shooting still to go, it was painfully apparent, at least to him, that he was going to succumb to Ariel’s sexual invitation…and soon.

  But first there were things she needed to know.

  She reached beneath his knit shirt and ran her small palm over his chest. Ariel touching him made a mockery of all his resolutions and high ideals. He wanted her. He needed her. Whether he called it gratification or disaster, the end result would be the same. Ariel…beneath him, calling out his name as he made love to her.

  When her fingernail scraped lightly over his nipple, he jerked.

  Ariel laughed, the sexy, knowing laugh of a woman who acknowledged her own power. “I can’t wait to hear what you have to say,” she said, that husky voice raking his nerve endings almost physically. She kissed him again, and her tongue mated with his. “But I believe that sometimes, actions speak louder than words.”

  Their kisses grew wilder, hotter. Sweat rolled down his back, courtesy of the tropical night. Ariel’s skin was moist, lush. “If we don’t stop,” he gasped, fingers digging into her hips, “I’m going to take you right here, God help me.”

  He was out of control. His analytical mind assessed the situation at some subconscious level and cursed the public venue.

  Ariel drew back, tugging until he released her. “Thirty minutes,” she gasped, her eyes unreadable in the dark. “We have to go back inside. I can’t leave my own party. It would be rude.”

  Jacob’s curse was vicious and heartfelt. “You go. I can’t let them see me like this.”

  Ariel hesitated, her fingertips touching his lightly as though any more direct contact would cause them to combust. “Are you okay?”

  Scarcely able to breathe, he leaned back against the stone building, his body near doubling over from the ache of wanting her. “Go,” he ground out, beyond polite conversation. “Go.”

  Finally, she melted away into the night, her hair and limbs a glimmer of light in the shadows.

  Jacob sucked in air, his heartbeat deafening in his ears. Appalled at how close he had come to entering her standing up, he closed his eyes and reached for sanity.

  But he came up empty. Ariel had shattered the one thing above all others that he could count on. His control. If he was this completely torn asunder emotionally and physically by the prospect of screwing her, how much worse would it be if he committed the ultimate sin of falling in love?

  Like an exhausted swimmer trying to cross the English Channel, he was left without options. He had come so far into deep waters that turning back was impossible. But going forward promised to be dangerous and potentially deadly.

  Finally, he returned to the party, citing an important phone call as the reason for his delay. Ariel was out on the dance floor, working her way through a bevy of admirers who were taking advantage of a rare opportunity to bask in the star’s undivided attention.

  Jacob’s expression must have given him away, because the taciturn Brinkman tossed back a finger of Scotch and said, “What’s eating you?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not much of a party animal.”

  “Then you’ve hooked up with the wrong girl. Ariel lives to socialize. I don’t mean that in a derogatory way,” he said quickly. “She’s the least vain star I’ve ever worked with. No demands. No enormous ego to be stroked. Simply a hardworking, incredibly beautiful and talented woman. People gravitate toward her.”

  “I see that,” Jacob said quietly, his gaze following her around the room as she moved to the music. “In fact, I’ve witnessed it since the first day I walked onto the set.” He barely refrained from grinding his teeth as a surge of possessiveness overwhelmed him. Seeing other men as the recipients of her sunny smile was almost more than he could bear in his present mood. “Tell me, Rod. Do you believe the stories they write about her in the tabloids?”

  Brinkman snorted. “We call that fiction.”

  “But the men. Do they take advantage of her good nature?”

  The older man narrowed his eyes, his gaze also on Ariel as they spoke. “They may try. But don’t underestimate Ariel. She’s survived in this business and kept not only her head but her sweet nature. No artifice at all. What you see is what you get. That’s a rare thing in a woman and even more unusual in a profession that breeds narcissism.”

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “Never thought you were. A man likes to gauge the cost before he takes a risk.”

  “What risk?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Wolff. You’ve been hit hard with tragedy…twice. I know your background. Had you investigated as soon as she showed up with you in tow. I couldn’t afford any surprises with my moneymaker.”

  “Is that how
you see her?”

  “It’s part of my job to calculate everything in dollars and cents. If you’re asking a personal question, then no. Personally, I like her. If I’d ever been dumb enough to have kids, I hope one of them would have turned out like her.”

  “Not likely. You’re a hard-ass.” Jacob delivered the jab with a wry smile.

  Brinkman was actually flattered. “I am. And don’t you forget it.”

  One song ended, and the band signaled a break. Jacob counted the seconds until Ariel made her way back to the table. He stood as she approached, handing her a glass of water. “You look hot,” he said mildly.

  She took the glass and tilted her head as she drained it dry. Twirling spontaneously, making her skirts fluff out in a circle, she grinned. “I am hot, big boy. And aren’t you lucky to be taking me home.”

  Brinkman chortled, clearly enjoying Jacob’s not-so-subtle hunger. “You tell him, Ariel.”

  Ariel leaned down and kissed the top of her boss’s head. “Don’t wait up. Wolff man and I are going to find a deserted beach and howl at the moon.”

  Fourteen

  Ariel took Jacob’s hand and dragged him toward the exit. At least three people tried to stop them. She forged on, desperate to leave. The promised thirty minutes had turned into forty-five.

  Outside, she stopped short, trying to remember where they had parked the car. Darkness had fallen, and the exterior lighting was almost nonexistent. The moon hung low in the sky, blocked from view by the building.

  “Over there.” Jacob was in charge now, his arm around her waist as they dodged another set of would-be conversationalists.

  Ariel paused beside the vehicle, waiting for Jacob to help her in. Instead of opening her door, he forced her to back up, his hips pinning hers to the side of the car. He was aroused and hard. The feel of his rigid flesh nudging urgently at her belly made her heart thud with uneven beats.

  She licked her lips. “I gave up fooling around in parking lots when I left high school.”