Читать книгу Millionaire Playboys: Paying the Playboy's Price - Emilie Rose - Страница 11

Rex’s life was spinning out of control—much like it had when he’d signed his first record deal, and others, his manager, his agent and the record company execs, had seized the wheel and started steering his life. He’d fought a long, hard battle to regain control, and he didn’t like being knocked off track now.

Last night he’d been shanghaied by Kelly and Juliana. Today, Irma, as grandmotherly a woman as he’d ever met, had shooed him out of the way the moment he and the girls had arrived. She’d whisked Becky and Liza into the kitchen to help her unpack the groceries. Juliana had disappeared upstairs to dress for work, leaving him to prowl around her living room and wonder what in the hell he’d gotten into. Not that he’d had a choice. He wouldn’t let Kelly down again.

Who was the real Juliana? The flirty siren who’d bought him at the auction, the innocent seductress who’d ridden his horse, the bold and sexy biker chick or the cautious woman who planned every detail and triple-checked everything? There were too many contradictions to count—contradictions that kept him off balance. He couldn’t plan a defense if he didn’t know his opponent.

Her living and dining rooms looked like something out of a magazine. Not fussy or cluttered, but decorated and comfortable. A soft toast-colored fabric covered the long sofa and matching chairs. The oversize furniture was the kind he could sink into and take a nap—which he sorely needed after tossing and turning on his shorter couch last night. A man could prop his boots on her wood-and-wrought-iron tables without worrying about scuffing the surface. The best part was that, other than a few colorful ceramic pieces on high shelves, Juliana didn’t have valuable knickknacks all over the place that the girls could break.

A noise made him turn. He looked up and saw legs—amazing, long, sexy legs—coming down the stairs. And then the rest of Juliana came into view. In her gray body-skimming suit, twisted-up hair and low-heeled shoes, she bore little resemblance to any of the versions of Juliana he’d encountered thus far. This woman looked like a bank employee. Cool. Collected. In charge. The tap of her heels on the hardwood floor as she crossed to a cabinet drew his attention back to her killer legs.

Damned if he didn’t find her sexy in a librarian kind of way. Not good. Not good at all.

She opened a drawer, withdrew something and then turned to face him. “Here’s a key to my house.”

Whoa. He backed up a step. Other than Kelly, he’d never given a woman keys to his place or even his truck. “Look, Juliana, I gave you my spare keys this morning because you and the girls need access to my apartment, but—”

“Yes, and it was clearly very painful for you,” she said with a dose of sarcasm.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t need a key to your house.”

“You will if you arrive before Irma in the mornings.”

“I won’t. I’ll make sure of it. But if I do, you can let me in.”

She shook her head and the tiny diamonds in her earlobes sparkled, drawing his attention to her delicate ears and the slender column of her neck above the collarless suit.

“That isn’t practical. You live closer to the bank, so it makes more sense for me to go straight to work from Renegade. The earlier I can get to work, the sooner I can leave to be with the girls. Irma’s thrilled to have them, but she’s seventy, and she’s worried that her stamina may not last a full day.”

The skin between his shoulder blades prickled. No way out. Going into a woman’s house without her…He suppressed a shudder. Swapping keys was way too intimate and smelled like a commitment. Commitments led to disappointments, and he’d already handed out more than his share of those. He wanted to unload Juliana and the unwelcome attraction for her, not add another loop to the rope temporarily binding them together.

Juliana reached out, grabbed his hand and pressed the key into his palm. She closed his fingers around the cool metal and squeezed. Her hands, wrapped securely around his, ignited desires he could not—would not—satisfy.

“Rex, it’s a key ring not an engagement ring. There are no strings or expectations attached. Quit being such a guy and take it.” She made being male sound like an insult. “I have to go. I’m running late.”

But several seconds ticked past before her fingers loosened and her hands fell away. From the rapid flutter of her pulse at the base of her neck, he guessed he wasn’t the only one feeling the heat generated by their exchange.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll drop Becky and Liza off about 9:30 or 10:00 each morning.”

She nodded. “I should be back by 6:00 at the latest. The girls and I will find you so you can tell them good night before I take them upstairs. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. Irma makes great coffee.”

This was so much like playing house, it gave him the willies. Knowing his past and his weakness, thinking about building a domestic relationship with someone was a luxury he couldn’t afford. He backed up. “Right. See ya tonight.”

And then he bolted for the kitchen like a damned coward. Running from what he couldn’t have.

Wally Wilson was perfect for her on so many levels. So why couldn’t Juliana be happy with him and forget this last chance nonsense?

She looked across the table at her companion. Handsome in an understated, preppy way, Wally was blond, blue-eyed and reasonably fit. He kept his skin evenly tanned with weekly visits to the tanning salon. Every hair stayed in place thanks to his skilled barber, and wrinkles didn’t dare crease his suit.

No, women wouldn’t get whiplash or have hormone surges when he walked through a room, but he was stable, responsible and unfailingly polite. He liked order and so did she. In fact, they had so much in common. Background, business, ambition…

As detail-oriented as Wally appeared to be about everything else in his life, he would probably be a conscientious lover. According to her friends, Juliana owed it to herself to find out before marrying him, but the idea didn’t fill her with anticipation. Then again, she hated emotional displays. Life with Wally would be smooth sailing. No highs. No lows.

No fun?

She ignored that pesky inner voice and smiled at Wally. “Thank you for agreeing to switch our date from dinner to lunch on such short notice, Wally.”

“I’m always happy to accommodate your schedule, Juliana. What did you say came up?”

She hadn’t said and she didn’t understand her hesitation in revealing the situation now, but if she was seriously considering marrying him, then they shouldn’t have secrets between them. “I’m babysitting this evening.”

His brows lifted. “Babysitting? Have you ever babysat before?”

“Um…no. But the girls are three and five. I’m sure they can tell me if I do something wrong.”

“I thought it might have something to do with your bachelor.”

Her chicken salad lodged halfway down her esophagus. She sipped her water. “It does indirectly. Rex—my bachelor—Rex’s sister had to fly out of the country unexpectedly. Her husband’s in the military, and he’s been critically injured. She needed to be with him. Rex and I are watching their children.”

“Couldn’t she hire someone to do that?”

“Irma’s helping.”

“Ah, yes. Irma. I’d forgotten you still keep in touch with your nanny.” He flashed a tolerant smile, displaying perfectly aligned teeth. Why did she get the impression he didn’t really approve of her continued friendship with the woman who’d raised her while Margaret Alden had fought her way up the career ladder?

“Irma and I have lunch together at least once a month. I’ve been increasingly concerned about her lately. Retirement isn’t working out.” He nodded, but she had the impression he really didn’t care about Irma. Juliana pleated her napkin in her lap. “Wally, my mother seems to think you expected me to buy you at the auction.”

“Given the understanding between our families, I thought you might,” he said in an expressionless tone. Come to think of it, Wally usually spoke without much inflection. His soothing voice would be an asset in dealing with upset customers.

“The understanding was that we’d date to see if we suited.”

“Don’t we?”

She concealed a wince. “I don’t know yet, Wally, but please tell Donna I appreciate her stepping in. Although I confess I was a little surprised to see her at the club.”

“Yes. There are those who can’t forget Donna’s humble beginnings.”

Like his parents, Juliana suspected. Mrs. Wilson referred to Wally’s administrative assistant as “trailer trash.” His father called Donna worse. The Wilsons saw a gold digger out to sink her claws into the family fortune. Never mind that Donna had worked hard to get her GED and then had attended community college while raising a houseful of children single-handedly. Wally’s mother couldn’t see Donna’s ambition or intelligence. Juliana, on the other hand, often teased Wally that she wanted to steal his assistant.

“Well, I apologize if I’ve made things difficult for you.”

“No apologies are necessary, Juliana. In fact, this could work to our advantage.”

“How so?”

“Because we’re each being allowed to date outside our closed social circle without fear of repercussion.”

That had to be the oddest comment she’d ever heard Wally make. Even stranger was the inkling that Wally—safe, sensible Wally—might have secrets.

Rex let himself into his apartment and stopped in his tracks when he spotted Juliana slumped in one corner of the sofa with her knees bent and her feet tucked beside her.

His heart thumped like a bass drum as he drew nearer. The lamp cast a soft glow over her sleep-flushed face. Dark lashes fanned her cheeks and her lips parted on a sigh of breath. She’d exchanged her suit for a pair of sleeveless pajamas. The black fabric reminded him of the satin sheets he’d had on his tour bus. Soft. Slippery. Sexy.

Shaking off the forbidden thought, he glanced down the hall. Through the open door, the soft glow of a night-light revealed the sleeping girls. Had they given Juliana a hard time? Was that why she’d planted herself out here like a sentry? Or had she fallen asleep waiting for him? The thought sent a streak of lightning sizzling through him. She’d made it clear that she wanted him with her insistence on the lessons and with that damned box of condoms. He’d thought of little else all day.

It would be so easy to take what she offered, to lead her to bed and lose himself in the spicy floral scent of her skin and the slick warmth of her body. For an hour or two she could make him feel like something more than a washed-up country singer who’d let his family down in all the ways that counted. Sure, he’d started sending money home as soon as he’d signed his first contract, but he’d never sent more than cold cash, and he’d never apologized for hurting the two people who’d loved him the most. Mindless sex could cure a lot of things—including guilt—for a while. He ought to know.

He fisted his hands against the urge to stroke Juliana into wakefulness. Oh yeah. It would be so easy to be that selfish SOB with her. And that was exactly why he had to keep his distance. He couldn’t go back, couldn’t risk letting Kelly and the girls down the way he’d let his folks down.

But Juliana being out here instead of in his bed could work to his advantage. He’d take a shower and wash away the temptation along with the food and bar smells, and then he’d wake Juliana and send her to his bed. Alone.

As quietly as possible, Rex entered his room to collect fresh clothing. The sight of her suits lined up beside his jeans in the closet rattled him. He extracted what he needed and headed for the bathroom, only to receive another shock. Her toiletries neatly lined the counter and her shampoo stood next to his in the shower stall.

Yesterday, he’d wanted to get away from her. Today, she’d moved in. Oh yeah, his life was definitely veering out of control, but he’d learned the hard way how destructive that could be. It wasn’t a mistake he’d repeat.

He stripped off his clothing, stepped into the shower and lathered briskly, valiantly fighting traitorous thoughts of Juliana’s soap-slickened hands gliding over his skin, but he was too tired to maintain his mental barricades. In seconds, he had a painful hard-on begging for attention. He twisted the faucet to cold and shivered in the bone-jarring, frigid water while he rinsed off the soap and shampoo. After toweling off and pulling on clean jeans and a T-shirt, he set his shoulders. Time to put temptation to bed and try to catch some shut-eye before this merry-go-round started again tomorrow. Saturday. Juliana’s day off. How would he concentrate on work knowing she was in his apartment all day?

He stopped beside the sofa and struggled with the bite of awareness. He couldn’t forget the softness of her skin or the taste of her mouth. Dammit. He couldn’t remember ever getting turned on so fast or having a woman haunt his thoughts day and night. Had to be the celibacy screwing with his head.

One week. He could hold out until Kelly returned home and then, debt or no debt, he’d dump Juliana.

“Juliana,” he whispered. She didn’t stir. He didn’t want to raise his voice and risk waking the girls. “Juliana, wake up.”

Nothing. Damn. He’d have to touch her. But where? The bare skin of her shoulder was too close to the shadowy area between her breasts. Too risky. He patted her kneecap. “Juliana.”

She startled, inhaled a quick breath and jerked upright. “What? Oh, hello.”

“Go to bed.”

She blinked owlishly and scanned the room as if she couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten there. She looked flustered and adorable and kissable. Damn.

She shoved her hair out of her face. “The girls?”

“Asleep.”

She yawned and her breasts lifted beneath her satiny shirt. “Becky had a nightmare. I guess I dozed off.”

The quiet statement struck with the sudden impact of a rock hitting his truck’s windshield. A crack slowly snaked through the resistance he fought so hard to maintain. “Nice of you to listen out for her.”

What was it about her that fueled his engine like nobody else had? He’d met prettier women, women with bigger boobs and longer legs. But he couldn’t remember one from his past who got to him this way, let alone one who’d have volunteered for the non-glamorous, tough job of babysitting somebody else’s kids. Not that he’d ever known any of his past lovers that well.

Slowly, she unfolded and stood, and then she stumbled and fell against his chest. He caught her upper arms. Her fingers splayed over his heart. She couldn’t miss the rapid-fire beat.

Her slumberous gaze lifted to his. “Sorry. My foot’s asleep.”

And not one single, sorry cell in his body was. His hands tightened. He wanted her so bad, he ached with it. Wanted to taste her damp lips. Wanted to caress her flushed skin. Wanted to bury his face in the valley between her breasts and make her as hungry for him as he was for her. Wanted to push her back on the sofa and bury himself between her long legs.

What would it hurt? It’s what she wants prompted the selfish bastard lurking inside him.

Rex’s jaw muscles protested his tooth-gritting abuse, and he battled with the throbbing need he should have satisfied in the shower. No, it wouldn’t have been as good as the real thing, but he could have taken the edge off his craving.

User. An icy drop of water from his wet hair snaked down his spine, shocking him into clearheadedness. He set her away, holding on only until he was sure she had her footing.

“Go to bed, Juliana.”

All dressed up and no place to go.

Juliana paced Rex’s bedroom. An early riser by habit, she’d awoken without an alarm. She needed coffee immediately and a newspaper soon. Today’s edition should contain Octavia Jenkins’s first installment about the auction. Juliana didn’t want to wake Rex or the girls by running the sputtering coffee machine, and she didn’t know if he subscribed to the local paper.

Clutching her key to the apartment and her wallet, she eased open the bedroom door. As silently as possible, she tiptoed into the den. Her heart stalled when she spotted Rex sprawled on the sofa and then raced as her gaze drank him in. His shiny hair spilled over the cappuccino-colored leather like bittersweet chocolate drizzled over milk chocolate. His bare feet hung over the opposite end. He’d shed his shirt and unbuttoned the top button on his jeans. The sheet he’d used lay puddled on the floor beside him. Her gaze returned to that unfastened brass button and the shadow of his navel behind it, and then raked over his bare chest to his bristly chin and parted lips.

Her mouth dried. He definitely knew how to use those lips. The question was how did she get him to use them again. On her. With each encounter, her desire to be held against that broad hair-spattered chest grew and her ambivalence over this crazy scheme faded, but she didn’t appear to be getting any closer to her goal, so her uncertainty was a moot point. What was she going to do to tempt him next, and how far could she go with the girls in the house?

She tiptoed to the girls’ door and found them sleeping peacefully. Her heart twinged a little. She’d never expected to enjoy caring for them so much. They were sweet and funny and obviously adored their uncle. Unfortunately, Juliana was getting a bit too fond of their uncle as well. The idea of one month of naughty thrills and then a quick goodbye didn’t sound nearly as attractive as it once had. In fact, she wondered if one month would be enough.

She wanted to know more about Rex Tanner than her online searches had revealed. Like what put those shadows in his dark eyes? And what had driven a man at the top of his career to self-destruct? Unfortunately, the girls couldn’t tell her and Rex wouldn’t.

Rex slept through her examination, but that was understandable since he’d only come upstairs four hours ago. Juliana eased through his apartment door—the one leading to the exterior stairs instead of through Renegade—aiming for the coffee shop she’d spotted down the street yesterday. The early morning humidity clung to her skin on the short walk. She purchased her caffeine fix and a newspaper and headed back to Rex’s, where she settled at the picnic table on his upstairs deck overlooking the Cape Fear River.

The sun had risen high enough at 6:30 for her to read the newsprint, but not high enough to bake her skin. She wasn’t one of those women who tanned well. She turned an unbecoming shade of boiled-shrimp pink, but she’d forgotten to pack her sunscreen. She’d have to retreat inside in a few minutes—back to the space dominated by Rex. And she didn’t think she could handle him without a full load of caffeine in her system.

With her back to the house, she flipped straight to the Lifestyles section, found Octavia’s byline and winced at the title of the article: Love at Any Price? She quickly scanned over the introductory info. Her eyes skidded to a halt when she found her name, and then she backtracked and began the paragraph again.

Bachelor nine. Rex Tanner and Juliana Alden each claim to have pure motives for participating in the auction. The former Nashville headliner says all he wants is publicity for Renegade, his new waterfront bar and grill. Ms. Alden declares her interests lie in the motorcycle lessons. But this reporter believes the relationship will yield more than improved revenues and riding skills. The sparks between the dashing biker and the proper banker nearly set the room ablaze.

Appalled, Juliana dropped the paper on the table and pressed cold hands to her hot cheeks. Was she so obvious? Everyone in Wilmington would know she was pursuing Rex. Everyone including her mother and Wally. The fallout from that would not be pleasant. Her mouth dried and panic made her heart palpitate erratically. She’d wanted a month of breaking rules, not a month of public embarrassment.

She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and hit speed dial. “H’lo,” Andrea answered in a groggy voice.

“Andrea, I’m sorry if I woke you, but I’ve just read Octavia Jenkins’s article. It’s awful.”

A groan carried over the phone line. “You didn’t wake me. I’ve seen it. Oh my God. ‘This romance is ready to be rekindled. Is Ms. Montgomery carrying the matches?’ I am so not trying to win Clay back. I’m going to ask Octavia to print a retraction.”

Juliana grimaced. She’d been so concerned with her own predicament she hadn’t even read about Andrea or Holly. She scanned down the page and read the section Andrea had quoted. “I don’t think you’ll get a retraction. She hasn’t really crossed the line.”

“Says you.”

“Did you see what she wrote about Rex and me? Now everyone knows what I’m doing. And if that’s not humiliating enough, guess what? It’s not working. You said he was such a womanizer that all I’d have to do was show up and keep breathing and he’d do the rest. Well, he’s not doing it.”

“What are you talking about?”

Juliana shot a quick, cautious glance over her shoulder and then whispered, “Getting Rex to seduce me.”

“He’s not interested?”

“He’s interested…at least I think he is, but I…I wanted someone who would sweep me off my feet and overcome my doubts about this whole crazy scheme. He’s not sweeping.”

“Men are so obtuse. You’re going to have to nudge him in the right direction. Let’s meet for breakfast and plot our way out of this mess. I’ll call Holly and tell her to meet us at Magnolia’s Diner.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m babysitting Rex’s nieces today.”

“Babysitting? No, no, no. Juliana, kids and sex don’t mix. I’m coming over. We need to talk.”

She took a fortifying gulp of coffee. “You can’t come over because I’m not at home.”

“Where are you?”

She hesitated and then confessed. “Staying at Rex’s apartment above Renegade.”

Silent seconds ticked past. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation why you’re living with him and not getting any? Besides the children, I mean.”

Tapping drew Juliana’s gaze to the girls’ bedroom window. Two angelic faces grinned out at her. She smiled back and waved, and then pressed her finger to her lips in the universal Be quiet sign. “It’s complicated, but I can’t explain now. I have to go.”

“You can’t leave me hanging like that,” Andrea squawked.

“Sorry. Have to. Bye.” She disconnected over Andrea’s protests, gathered her paper, coffee and keys and let herself inside.

“Man, you’re driving me crazy, and your prowling is scaring off customers. Go away.”

Rex frowned at Danny. “I thought I was the boss.”

“Rex, I can handle this crowd. Go check on the girls or the chick or whoever’s got your nuts in a knot.”

Rex had never been more conscious of the empty apartment over his head. Dammit, it was supposed to be empty. He liked living alone. But he’d been out of sorts since yesterday morning when he’d awoken to silence. How had Juliana sneaked the girls out without waking him? Probably because sleep was next to impossible knowing he had a sexy and willing banker in his bed, and when he’d finally drifted off he’d dreamed of the bedroom door opening and Juliana beckoning him to join her. In his dreams, he hadn’t refused her invitation. Heat pulsed through him.

He’d found a note from Juliana in the kitchen saying she’d taken the girls to her place, and that she’d like for them to spend Saturday night with her so they wouldn’t disturb him. He was supposed to call her cell phone if he didn’t like the idea. He hadn’t liked the idea, but he couldn’t explain why, so he hadn’t called. One day less exposure to Juliana was one day he didn’t have to fight the pull between them. No doubt the girls would love a sleepover. He should be grateful. But he wasn’t.

The newspaper Juliana had left on his kitchen table hadn’t improved his mood. Sure, the auction article had generated additional business as he’d hoped. They’d had the best weekend crowd yet, but too many customers had asked him about his romance with Juliana. They wanted a freaking fairy-tale ending and that wasn’t going to happen. She might be a banking princess, but he’d proven he wasn’t prince material.

He finished wiping down the bar and pitched his rag into the bucket of cleaning solution. “I didn’t expect her to keep Becky and Liza at her place all weekend.”

“What are you complaining about? You got your bed back, and she and the squirts aren’t underfoot.” Danny didn’t have kids of his own, but he still lived at home and he had a gaggle of younger siblings whom he claimed were always in the way. “Go.”

Rex glanced at his watch. Five o’clock. If he left now, he’d have time to take a quick shower and then play with the girls before dinner. “All right. I’m going. Call Juliana’s if you need me. Number’s by the phone.”

Forty minutes later, he parked his truck in the driveway beside Juliana’s sedan, climbed the stairs and rang her doorbell. No one responded to the bell or his knock, but using his key was too damned domesticated for him. He walked around to the back of the end-unit town house, but the girls weren’t on the patio, and he couldn’t see them through the French doors. Damn. He dug his key out of his pocket and let himself in. Using the key did not mean he and Juliana had a relationship beyond the girls and the lessons.

“Juliana? Becky? Liza?” Silence echoed back.

Bottles of nail polish stood like a line of candy-colored fence posts on the kitchen table, corralling a neat pile of hair ribbons and an assortment of other girlie stuff. Juliana’s purse leaned against a stack of child-care and babysitting books on the hall table. That she cared enough to try to learn more about his nieces shouldn’t get to him, but it did.

How could he have been so wrong in his initial assessment that she had more money than brains? He shrugged off his growing admiration. The last thing he needed was to soften up around her. Liking her and appreciating her generosity didn’t change the fact that he was in debt up to his neck to her family, or that she was looking for a walk on the wild side and he wasn’t. She wanted excitement and he wanted…

What did he want? Roots? Maybe. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. One of these days, when the bar was on a firmer footing, he wouldn’t mind having someone to come home to, but he’d made more than his share of mistakes and let a lot of people down. He shook his head. Even if he did decide to take a chance—one he was sure he’d blow—on something long-term, a banking heiress wouldn’t be interested in anything permanent from a long-haired biker with a highway education and a wardrobe consisting of jeans and T-shirts with the Renegade logo on the back. She’d end up with a college-educated GQ guy in a suit. A man like the other bachelors at the charity auction.

Juliana and the girls couldn’t be far if her purse and car were here. He locked up and headed for the playground. Excited, happy squeals made him detour toward the nearby pool. A couple of dozen folks populated the fenced area. Becky’s rebel yell drew his gaze to the shallow end. She launched herself from the side of the pool and hit the water with a decent splash, but bobbed back to the surface thanks to a new hot-pink life jacket. Next, he spotted Liza, also sporting a new life jacket in smiley-face yellow, her favorite color. She dog-paddled toward a slender, dark-haired woman whose mostly bare back faced him.

Juliana. He didn’t need to see her face to recognize her. Every male hormone in his body pointed her out like a hunting dog signaled quail. The line of her naked spine and the curve of her waist in the hip-deep water brought a flood of moisture to his mouth and kicked his heart into a staccato beat. Her two-piece swimsuit wasn’t skimpy by today’s standards, but knowing only a few scraps of fabric separated him from her bare skin hit him with the blast of a spotlight. Sweat oozed from his pores. His black shirt and jeans magnified his reaction by absorbing every hot ray of the evening sunshine. Her low and husky laugh at Becky’s antics only increased his discomfort.

Juliana ducked under the water, and Liza squealed and squirmed with joy and then cackled when Juliana shot out of the water, slicked back her hair and gently splashed Becky. Apparently, the banker had a playful side and the urge to play with her was getting damned hard for Rex to ignore. He gripped the white picket fence and struggled to corral his stampeding hormones.

“Uncle Rex!” Becky yelled.

Cover blown. He gritted a smile, ordered his body to behave and shoved open the gate. Juliana jerked around to face him and he nearly tripped over a seam in the sidewalk. Her breasts were round, pale, perfect and far too exposed in a blue top the exact shade of her eyes for his peace of mind.

“Wook, Unca Wex.” Liza’s voice drew his attention away from forbidden territory. “I swimmen.”

“And doing a great job of it, sweet pea. Hey, Beck, killer cannonball.” Becky responded by hauling herself out of the pool and launching another one, this one soaking him. He welcomed the cool water on his overheated skin.

“We’ve had a busy day.” Juliana’s quiet words forced him to look at her again—something he’d rather not do until she covered up from ears to ankles. “They should sleep well tonight.”

At the sight of all that creamy, curvaceous flesh on display, words failed him. He grunted an affirmative.

“Is something wrong? You’re supposed to be working.” She folded her arms across her middle, which should have helped his concentration since it covered a lot of skin, but the move pushed her breasts farther out of her suit, resulting in a negative effect on his brain function. It took him a few seconds to weed her question out of his testosterone-induced fog.

“Danny’s closing. I thought I’d take the girls out to dinner and then head back to my place. Tomorrow’s my day off, so I’ll keep ’em tonight and you can sleep in your own bed.” He glanced at Becky and Liza in time to see their faces fall.

Juliana waded toward the pool steps. “We’d planned to grill kebabs tonight, and we’ve made homemade ice cream. Why don’t you join us for dinner?”

Bad idea. How could he get out of it? “Kebabs?”

“We stuck ’em,” Liza said in as bloodthirsty a tone as he’d ever heard from a three-year-old. He grabbed her upraised hands, lifted her from the pool and set her on the concrete.

Juliana bit her lip, but she couldn’t hide the smile twitching on her mouth. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes slammed the breath right out of him. “The girls helped me assemble the kebabs. We bought the ice-cream freezer when we bought the life jackets. Cooking together seemed like a good activity.”

“Right. Dinner sounds good.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Becky vaulted out and gave him a soggy hug. He ruffled her wet hair with a surprisingly unsteady hand.

Juliana rose from the pool like a nymph in a wet dream. Rivulets of water cascaded over the peaks and valleys of a truly lust-worthy body. His throat closed and his skin ignited. The little flirty skirt of her bathing suit bottom stopped an inch below her navel, and the wet fabric clung to her hips like a second skin.

He exhaled slowly and turned his back on what he couldn’t have to help the girls dry off. The week ahead yawned like an eternity.

“Wook.” Liza lifted her hands. He blinked away the sensual haze clouding his vision, knelt beside Liza and focused on her tiny, pale pink-tipped nails. “Oo-liana painted dem.”

“Pretty.”

Juliana stopped beside them. Her toenails bore the same shade of polish. Rex fought the urge to trace the long, lean line of her legs with his gaze and lost. From his kneeling position on the concrete, the sight of those perfect breasts at eye level wreaked no end of havoc below his belt. Frustration and futility rose inside him.

Surrender man and be done with it.

No way. Too much to lose.

He stood and met the gaze of the woman determined to bring him to his knees. Damned if she didn’t have him like a fish on the hook, and fighting the line wasn’t getting him anywhere but reeled in and too tired to care. Unless he wanted to be left on the dock gasping for air, then he had to do something fast.

But he had a feeling it was too late.