Читать книгу Californian Kings - Maureen Child - Страница 14

For the next few days, Bella tried to put Jesse King and that kiss out of her mind. Which wasn’t easy. Heck, the night she’d spent with him three years ago was still fresh in her mind. Having this latest example of his kissing prowess burned into her brain made it twice as hard to keep her mind from straying to him.

Still, if she kept busy, that helped. It was all the downtime, like sleeping, showering, washing dishes, taking a walk on the beach or even watching TV that was getting to her. The moment her brain had a free second, it leaped into thoughts of Jesse.

And her body wasn’t far behind.

She’d almost been able to convince herself over the years that Jesse’s kisses hadn’t been that great. That the feel of his skin under her hands hadn’t really felt like a slow burn. That his body wasn’t actually that buff.

But a few short minutes alone in his office with him had shot down those little attempts at self-deception. Jesse was every bit as amazing as he had been three years ago. Her skin was still humming. And now that it was Friday, it was time to make good on the deal she’d made with him. Tonight, they’d have dinner. And if he managed to really shock her, they’d be having sex for dessert.

Oh, this was so not a good thing.

“Bella?” A voice called out from the dressing room and she walked toward the back of the store.

Desperately grateful for the distraction, Bella asked, “Do you need something?”

A blonde with big blue eyes poked her head up over the dressing-room door and grinned. “I need a smaller size in the silver swimsuit.”

Bella laughed. “Didn’t I tell you?”

The woman was a new customer and, like everyone else who came into her shop for the first time, she hadn’t believed Bella when she’d advised that a well-made swimsuit would fit far differently than she was used to.

“I can’t believe it,” the blonde said, “but yeah, you were right.”

“I’ll be right back with a smaller size.”

“Woo hoo, do I love hearing that,” the woman said with a laugh.

Bella passed three other women looking through the racks of suits, sarongs and wraps as she headed for the hip-hugger bikini section. There she flipped through the suits hung on short plastic hangers until she found the silver mesh suit in a size 10. Smiling, she walked back to her customer, handed it over and went back to the front of the store.

September was generally a slower month than usual. She had plenty of walk-in business during the summer months, but by September, summer was ending and only the hard-core sun worshippers were out in abundance. Of course, she still had plenty of business from the female surfers in town.

When the door opened, she sent a smile of welcome, only to bite it back at the last minute. Jesse King strolled in, looking completely at home. He paused on the threshold, took a look around and smiled at her customers before focusing his attention on Bella.

God, she hated to admit what just seeing him could do to her. He was wearing his own sportswear, a red polo shirt with a collar and the KB logo in gold on the left breast, along with a pair of khaki slacks and brown suede boots. His dark blond hair was wind-ruffled and the sun-carved crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he smiled.

“Morning, ladies,” he said, as he headed across the store toward Bella.

“Oh my God! That’s Jesse King,” someone muttered and a soft giggle followed the declaration.

Naturally, he heard, and his grin widened.

Great, Bella thought. He was going to turn her customers into his groupies. She sensed more than saw the women in the store staring at him and she wanted to tell them all to turn off their hormones. But that would be like setting a filet mignon down in front of a hungry man and telling him not to eat it. An exercise in utter futility.

“Bella,” he said, flattening his palms on the glass counter. Then he lowered his voice until it was just a rumble of sound. “Good to see you again. Miss me?”

“No.” Yes. He’d stayed away from her for three days. No doubt he’d done it deliberately to drive her nuts. Well, it wasn’t working! Oh, she told herself, of course it was working.

He smiled as if he’d heard that stray thought from her sex-starved hormones.

“I missed you,” he said.

“Sure you did,” Bella countered, congratulating herself silently on keeping her voice so steady. “Here to back out of our dinner date?” she asked with a little too much hope.

His grin broadened and, thankfully, Bella was close enough to the counter that she could hold on and keep her knees from buckling.

“Now why would I do that just when I’m set to get you where I want you so badly?” he asked.

Oh, boy. She really was in way over her head.

“No,” he continued when she didn’t speak. “I just came to tell you that I’ll pick you up at seven, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” she said. “I can meet you wherever.”

“On our first official date?” he countered. “I don’t think so. I’ll pick you up at your place.”

“Fine,” she said grudgingly, knowing this was one battle she wasn’t going to win. “I’ll write down my address.”

“Oh, I know where you live.”

“What? How?” Oh, she thought. The rental agreement.

“I made it a point to find out,” he told her, then leaned across the counter, planted a quick, hard kiss on her open mouth and then winked at her. “So. See you at seven.”

“Right. Seven.”

“Excellent!” He slapped both hands against the glass counter then beat out a quick, drumlike tattoo of sound with his fingertips. “See you then.”

Bella was pretty sure she heard one of her customers give a little sigh. Or, she thought sadly, it might have been her.

Then he turned, directed a brilliant smile at the customers still watching him, lifted a hand in farewell and said, “Ladies…”

The hushed whispers started almost the instant the door swung closed behind him. Bella didn’t listen. Instead, she buried herself in work and tried not to think about the coming night.

Jesse left Bella’s shop, walked down Main Street and turned left onto Pacific Coast Highway. A small café stood on the corner, with several tiny, round chrome tables clustered together on the sidewalk. There was a great view of the beach, the pier and the men hanging a wide sign reading Surfing Exhibition—Come See the Champions.

An exhibition had been his idea. Get a few of his friends together, have some fun in the ocean and rack up some great PR for his company all in one stroke. They’d bring plenty of tourists into town for the day, lots of money would be spent in the shops and he’d get another chance at the limelight. He hated to admit it, but he sort of missed the competition. The excitement of a meet. He didn’t miss the press or the photographers, though the exhilaration of a win couldn’t be beaten.

Smiling to himself, Jesse took a seat at one of the tables, drummed his fingertips on the shining silver tabletop and waited. When a young blond woman wearing shorts and a red shirt with Christie’s Café emblazoned across her chest arrived, Jesse said, “Just a coffee, please.”

“Sure, Mr. King,” the girl said eagerly. “Hey, you’re surfing in the exhibition, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am,” he told her, though his thoughts had moved on from the exhibition itself to the woman he thought might be there on the beach watching him.

“That’s so great. Can’t wait to see you in action!” She swung her long, blond ponytail behind her back and pushed out her breasts, just in case he hadn’t noticed them.

Jesse nodded indifferently. He had. He just wasn’t interested. Not so long ago, he’d have been smiling back at her, flirting, taking advantage of the gleam in her eyes. Now the only woman he was interested in had more of battle glint in her eyes than a gleam. And that, weirdly enough, was more of a draw for him than the eager blonde.

The waitress grinned hopefully, then disappeared into the café. Jesse was alone, except for the few stragglers taking up spots at the tables. He caught an interested glance cast his way a few times, but he ignored them. One downside to celebrity, he thought—you were never really alone.

“So,” a deep voice said from behind him. “Thought we should talk.”

Jesse turned his head and watched Bella’s friend Kevin walk around him to take a seat in the chair opposite. Before he had a chance to speak, the waitress was back with Jesse’s coffee.

“Hi, Kevin,” she said. “The usual?”

“Yeah, Tiff. That’d be great.” Kevin answered, though his gaze was locked on Jesse.

When she was gone again, Jesse measured the man opposite him. He had the look of a guard dog, which made Jesse wonder just what kind of friendship Kevin and Bella shared. Were they a couple? He didn’t like the sound of that, but it was possible, because Jesse never had believed in men and women being merely “friends.” But at the same time, he didn’t think Bella was the kind of woman to be with one guy and kissing another. So just where did that leave Mr. Guard Dog? What was his interest here?

Jesse kept his irritation tightly wrapped. “What is it you want to talk about? Come to tell me you got those emerald earrings in?”

“No,” Kevin said. “Next week. This is about Bella.”

Of course it was. Just as well, though, Jesse told himself. Best to have a little talk with this guy and get a few things straightened out. He wanted to know just where Kevin stood with Bella. Not that it would make a damn bit of difference to Jesse either way. He wanted Bella and he was going to have her. But it would be good to know just how many guys he was going to have to plow through to get to her.

“Fine. Let’s talk,” Jesse said congenially. “I’ll start. Come to warn me off? Because I’ll tell you straight up, it won’t work.”

Before Kevin could answer, the blonde was back, sliding a mug of coffee with cream in front of him. “Thanks,” he muttered.

When neither of the men glanced at her again, the blonde pouted briefly and stomped off.

Finally, Kevin picked up his cup, took a sip and set it back down. “I figure Bella can tell you to take a hike if she wants to. That’s not why I’m here.”

One problem solved. “All right. Then why?”

“I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“And that’s your business because…”

“Because I care about Bella.”

Jesse didn’t like how that sounded. He didn’t like that Kevin felt he had the right to defend Bella. From him. His eyes narrowed, his gut clenched and his back teeth ground together. “You care. So, you’re here to what? Be her white knight?”

“Does she need one?”

“If she does, it won’t be you,” Jesse told him.

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

Had to give the guy points. He looked harmless, with his easy smile and casual pose. But there was steel inside him, too, which Jesse could admire even as he glared at him. “Have you slept with her?”

Kevin stared back. “No,” he said, his voice low and tight.

“Good.” Very good, Jesse thought. Even the idea of another man’s hands on Bella was enough to set off an unfamiliar sort of rage inside him. He wasn’t willing to question why that was. It was enough that the proprietary sensation was there. “Then if you’re not her lover, or her husband or her father, what’s this about?”

“I’m her friend. More than that,” Kevin told him, cupping his coffee cup between his palms. “We’re family.”

Jesse studied the other man. “Is that right?”

“It is. She was pretty broken up three years ago when you split.”

Jesse frowned, not liking the sound of that. He’d never spent a lot of time in self-examination. Usually the women he spent time with were after only what he was—an enjoyable evening. He knew now that Bella didn’t fall into that category. Hell, maybe he’d known it back then, too, instinctively. He just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.

“You’re not going to do that to her again,” Kevin told him.

“I don’t usually take orders.”

“Consider it a suggestion.”

“Don’t like them, either.” Jesse braced his elbows on the table and watched Kevin carefully. There was no temper there, no outraged, jealous anger. Just concern. Maybe he was simply Bella’s friend. And if so, then he couldn’t really blame the guy for looking out for her. But that was Jesse’s job now. If she needed protecting, he’d be doing it. What was between Jesse and Bella was nobody else’s business. “I’m not asking your permission for anything.”

Surprisingly, Kevin laughed. “Oh, hell, no. Man, Bella would kill me if she even knew I was talking to you.”

Jesse smiled, but there wasn’t much humor in the expression. “So why are you?”

He stood up, laid some money beneath his coffee cup and said, “Bella’s not like the kind of woman you’re used to. She’s real. And she’s breakable.”

Jesse stood up, too, and slid a ten-dollar bill beneath his own cup in the same motion. “I’m not trying to break her.”

“That’s the problem,” Kevin said with a shrug. “A guy like you can break a woman without even trying.”

He left then and Jesse watched him go. A guy like you. What the hell did that mean? Was he so different from other men? He didn’t think so. As for Bella—he wasn’t looking to break her and damn if he would. Jesse wanted her. So Jesse would have her.

“Oh, for God’s sake, stop checking the mirror,” Bella muttered to herself even as she looked into the glass and smoothed her hands over her hair. She’d been ready for a half hour and had spent the extra time checking and rechecking her reflection.

“Very helpful,” she said to the foolish woman looking back at her. Her hair was fine, loose and wavy, hanging down around her shoulders. She wore a black, floor-length skirt and a red blouse with short sleeves and a scooped neckline. The tops of her breasts showed, which made her a little uncomfortable. She stared at that for a minute and thought seriously about changing her shirt.

After all, it was mostly due to Jesse that she’d stopped wearing tight or revealing clothes three years ago. Was she crazy to stroll into the lion’s lair looking like a steak?

“Probably,” she answered her own silent question, then hissed out an impatient breath and stalked out of the small bathroom, snapping the light off as she went. That’s it. She wasn’t going to spend one more minute worrying about what she was wearing or how she looked. Despite what Jesse had said in the store that afternoon, this wasn’t a date. This was dinner. And a bet she had no intention of losing.

When the doorbell rang, she jumped, startled, then grumbling under her breath, headed for the front door. It didn’t take long. Her house was small. An old beach cottage, with one bedroom, a tiny bathroom, a serviceable kitchen and a living room only big enough to hold her worktable, a love-seat-size couch and one chair. There were built-in bookcases, though, and room for a TV and stereo. It was small, but it was hers and she loved it, since it was the first real home she’d ever had.

She glanced around, making sure everything was tidy before she opened the door. Jesse stood on her small front porch lined with terra-cotta pots bursting with petunias, pansies and marigolds. The spicy scent of the flowers filled the sultry night air and rushed into her lungs as she inhaled sharply with her first sight of him.

He looked…edible.

His dark blond hair was a little long, hanging over the collar of his white, long-sleeved dress shirt. The collar was open, displaying just a bit of his tanned chest. He wore black slacks, black shoes and a smile that was designed to tempt angels out of heaven.

“You look nice,” he said, his gaze resting just a little bit longer than necessary on her breasts. “Are you ready?”

Bella’s stomach swirled with nerves that she tried to believe would fade away. But one look into Jesse’s eyes assured her that the nervous feeling in her stomach was only going to get worse. All she had to do, she told herself, was to stay strong. Sure, she thought as his gaze locked on hers, no problem.

“Probably not,” she admitted with a shrug, “but let’s go anyway.”

He laughed softly. “That’s the spirit!”

Bella had to smile despite the butterflies still swarming in her stomach. Then she turned, picked up her purse and keys and stepped onto the porch beside him. He closed the door behind her, took her hand in his and said softly, “I’ve been waiting three years for tonight.”

Jesse’s house was, naturally, gorgeous. Bella knew it would be from the moment he steered his sports car up a winding driveway to a house that seemed to be perched on top of a hill. It was.

It was also the first shock of the evening.

“It’s a ‘green’ house?” she asked, as they walked toward the front door.

“Right down to the bamboo floors and the recycled glass windows,” he told her, grinning at the stunned bemusement on her face. “The builders use concrete. Good insulation, less steel needed for reinforcement and the foundations are easier to lay with less of an impact on the land and—” He broke off, staring at her. “What?”

Bella shook her head. She simply couldn’t believe this. He was…more green than she was.

The house was designed to look like an old adobe Spanish-style home. It was surrounded by flowering bushes and dozens of trees. There were solar panels on the roof and wide windows overlooked the ocean, and even the front door looked…rustic.

“I don’t believe this,” she whispered.

He grinned even more widely. “Surprised? Maybe even…shocked?”

She snapped her head up and stared at him. He’d tricked her neatly because he had to know she never would have believed that he was so environmentally conscious. Why, he was the destroyer and pillager of historic districts. He was the man who was personally turning her beloved hometown into a cookie-cutter community.

And he had jute welcome mats.

Oh God.

She was really in trouble now.

“You set me up, didn’t you?”

“You set yourself up, Bella,” he said, laughing as he opened the door and ushered her inside. “You assumed you knew everything about me and you were willing to bet on it.”

“But you let me,” she countered, sweeping past him into the house. Just as she’d thought. It was even more perfect inside than out. Dammit.

“Hell, yes, I let you,” he said, chuckling low in his throat so that it sounded like a rumbling freight train.

“You cheated. You knew I’d never expect something like this,” she waved both hands out, encompassing the entire house. “I mean, I try to do things the ‘green’ way, but this is…”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“Are you kidding?” she demanded, glaring at him. “You’re the guy who ripped out the heart of the business district and gave it all the personality of a damp rock.”

He frowned at her. “That’s business. And, just so you know, the materials used were all ‘green.’”

“Why? Why do you care?”

“I’m a surfer, Bella. Of course I’m interested in the environment. I want clean oceans and air, I just don’t broadcast what I do.”

“No, you hide it.”

“No, I don’t. If you’d bothered to look a little deeper at me, you’d have found plenty of information. The ‘Save the Waves’ foundation? Mine. King Beach supports it.”

She needed to sit down. Bella stared at him, amazed and…impressed. How was she supposed to reconcile her image of the corporate raider with this very unexpected side of Jesse King? Was it possible she’d been wrong about him? And if she were, what else had she been mistaken about?

Her gaze swept the interior. Bamboo floors, shining under coats of polish. Skylights cut into the ceiling allowed moonlight to drift into the foyer, giving the whole house a magical look. And it was working on Bella. She was beyond shocked. She was pleased. And almost proud. How ridiculous was that?

He tucked her hand through his elbow and led her down a long, wide hallway. “Come on. I asked the housekeeper to serve dinner on the patio.”

On either side of them, the whitewashed walls were studded with family photos. Her heels tapped against the bamboo floor as she walked beside Jesse. She glanced at the photos as they passed, trying to take them all in. But there were just too many of them.

“Told you I had a lot more at home,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to all of them after dinner if you want.”

Dinner. And, she thought, since he’d managed to absolutely shock her, she would be dessert. Unless she backed out. Ran away. Told him she’d changed her mind. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but she had no doubt he’d let her leave. He might be arrogant and pushy, but he wasn’t a bully.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I knew you’d be shocked, but I still can’t help wondering why,” he said, leading her through a set of French doors onto a flagstone patio, Bella’s breath caught in her throat.

A full moon was up and shining down on the ocean, laying a wide, silver ribbon of a path that looked as though all you had to do was follow it to find something wonderful. Stars winked out of a black sky and a sea wind slid over her skin like a caress. A small, round table was set with white linen, fine china and crystal. A bottle of wine stood open and “breathing” in the center of the table, and candle flames flickered wildly in the protective circle of hurricane-glass globes.

“Wow,” she murmured.

“I agree.”

She looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at the view, or the setting. He was watching her. Was it part of his game? His routine for charming women? Or was this something else? Something just for her?

Oh, that thought was certainly a dangerous one.

“This is beautiful,” she said, impressed in spite of her own misgivings about being there.

“It really is,” he said, moving to the table, and pouring them each a glass of dark red wine. “I found this place the last time I was in Morgan. The setting was great, but I wanted a more organic kind of home. So I rehabbed it.” He sent her a quick wink.

“Rehabbing seems to be a hobby of yours.”

“Can’t help myself. I’m a hands-on kind of guy.”

Her stomach swirled and dipped again. Then she recalled what he’d just said. “You bought this house three years ago?”

“Yeah.” He walked toward her, holding out one of the glasses.

She accepted it, took a sip and said, “So you were always planning on moving here.”

“Not always,” he said. “Actually, it was meeting a certain woman on a pier one night that decided it for me.”

He was just too smooth for her. He knew all the right words. Knew all the right moves. And she was floundering. If she had the slightest shred of sense, Bella knew she’d be running from him just as fast as her feet could take her. But she really didn’t want to.

“Why do you do things like that?” she asked, her voice little more than a hush.

“Like what?” He sipped at his wine.

“Talk to me as if you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I am,” he said. “I haven’t exactly kept it a secret.”

“But why play the game?” she asked, walking past him to set her wineglass on the table. With her back to him, Bella said softly, “You don’t have to flatter me. Or flirt. Or any of the other things you do to get women. You already know I want you, too. So why bother pretending that you feel something for me that you don’t?”

His features went still and, in the moonlight, his blue eyes glittered like silver. His jaw was tight, his hair rippled in the wind. “Who says I don’t mean it?”