Читать книгу Wild Fling or a Wedding Ring? - Mira Lyn Kelly - Страница 11

CALI felt her stomach congeal. “Talk about an understatement.”

“Yeah, well…” Jake’s jaw shifted, his mouth pulling to the side as he watched her for a second and then shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Excuse me? She pushed up to her elbows to glare at him. What the hell did that mean? The man had just been caught cheating. How dared he be so blasé? This was bad for her—of that there was no doubt. But for Jake? Didn’t he care that his marriage was at stake?

“Anyway, do you need some help with your bags?” he asked, obviously wanting to wrap up the encounter as quickly as possible.

Please. “Oh, I think you’ve done enough already,” she bit out, her panic and temper on the rise. It took everything she had not to kick his two-timing shin.

To think she’d been fantasizing about this guy, aching for more of him…and he was married! He’d made her the other woman. Her instincts stank. She flopped back on the bed, and to her horror tears began to well at the corners of her eyes.

“Cali,” he said from the door. His voice low, oozing understanding. Manipulator. “I can see you’re—”

With a tight shake of her head, she threw up a hand to cut him off. “No. Not a word.”

She felt weak, as though the disappointment was physically weighing her down. And it wasn’t just over him. Sure, Jake was gorgeous—even being a disgusting pig of a cheater couldn’t take that away. But it was his personality as much as his incredible eye-candy appeal she’d found so attractive.

It hurt to be so wrong about him. But, more than being disappointed in who he was, she was disappointed in herself. Three years of keeping her nose clean. Of focusing on work to the exclusion of all else. Of not even giving a man the time of day. And the very first one she decided to give a little flirt to was married.

Her stomach dropped.

To her boss’s sister.

So much for a harmless tryst. She couldn’t think of a single person who wouldn’t be hurt here.

Okay, damage control time. She hadn’t known Jake was Jackson or she would have run for her life. But, even so, she didn’t see Amanda being all that understanding. Obviously it would be in Jake’s best interests to keep the sordid details on the down-low. But what about her? Could she live with herself if she didn’t confess what had happened—if she knowingly participated in the deception of another woman? Sure, they might not have had actual intercourse, but it wasn’t because Jake had thrown up a hand and said no way. He’d been ready to go. He’d wanted to take her home—back to her place, of course.

Oh, he was scum.

No, she definitely could not live with that kind of secret. Even if it meant she’d be sacrificing London—her career. And there was every chance that was exactly what this tawdry little rendezvous had cost her. Because Amanda wasn’t a machine. She was a flesh-and-blood human being, with emotions, who might not be able to put reason ahead of hurt.

Why hadn’t she just walked out of the bar last night? With her track record, why had she pushed her luck and let a man get that close at all? Hadn’t she learned how easily men came between her and her future?

This one was trouble, Jake thought, meeting the flash of Cali’s cold stare. She shifted and her bound curls caught the light streaming through the window, making the soft mass gleam like gilded silk. And for a moment he could see it wound around his fist, thick between his fingers as he pulled her head back.

That was the wrong line of thinking, considering he’d decided she was off-limits. And she’d decided he was an ass.

But, even with a disdainful sneer marring her lips, she made a pretty picture. Faded jeans hugged the sexy lines of her trim hips. A sleeveless shirt was tied behind her neck and ruffled out, accentuating her lean, athletic build, as well as the natural curves he’d had pressed against him all too briefly the night before. Her body was fit, with an arsenal of feminine dips, hollows and swells—enough to make any man’s mouth water.

She was a siren, all right. And at that moment a particularly hateful looking one. Of course the outrage might have something to do with the blatant full-body assessment he’d just concluded.

“Nice,” she hissed.

He was an ass. “Sorry,” he acknowledged, with an unrepentant smile.

Cali’s eyes rolled. “Right. Whatever.” Scrunching up her face like a raisin, she fisted her hands against her eyes, muttering, “Stupid, stupid…One night—sure, no problem…stupid. Stupid!”

Jake raised his brows at her self-directed tirade, concerned by the intensity of her dismay. That was until she spun on him.

“And you—you’re the epitome of every bar-side scavenger I’ve ever heard about. You revolt me!”

Jake stiffened, his concern rapidly evaporating under the scalding lash of her tongue. “What?” Scavenger? Man, that got under his skin. And he revolted her? This from the woman who had begged him for just one more kiss? “Were you even there last night?” No wonder she hadn’t gotten much lip action lately—she was insane.

Glaring daggers, she snapped, “To my eternal regret.”

Where in the hell was her outrage coming from? This couldn’t be the same woman who’d tied him up in knots and nearly brought him to his knees. He didn’t understand—and he hated that.

He waited for enlightenment to smack his forehead.

It didn’t.

There had to be an answer. “Are you on drugs?”

“Get lost, Jackson.”

And now with the Jackson business? Nice. Yeah, you first. “Seriously, Cali, what’s your problem?”

Her head snapped around. “Are you kidding?”

He rolled his shoulders, then cocked his head, waiting her out. She issued a disgusted grunt and blew a renegade tendril of hair from her eyes with an exasperated breath. “I work for your sister-in-law. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, a position within her corporation is highly coveted.”

Jake watched her march around the hotel room, gathering her things. “Yeah. I’m aware.”

As a rule he considered himself a gentleman, but he’d be damned if he’d help—especially since her arm didn’t seem to be bothering her too much and the dressing was holding. Instead he propped a shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms and legs, and forced a careless smile while refusing to give in to the urge to grab that bag out of her hands and load it himself.

Cali wrenched a zipper closed, huffing. “So you see what’s at stake?”

Not really. Aside from the fact that what had happened last night had nothing to do with Cali’s job, Jake was a big boy, and not prone to crowing about his phone booth conquests to just anyone who would listen. If she wasn’t planning to spill to Amanda, Jake was more than happy to save himself a whole lot of hassle and keep his mouth shut too.

Only Cali was back in his face, panic and fury blazing in her cheeks. “I see that smug look,” she accused, like the crazy person he suspected her to be. “Don’t think for one second that you have me bent over a barrel because of last night.”

Bent over a barrel?

Right now she deserved to be bent over his knee. His jaw clenched as he struggled for patience. What did it matter what she thought? Jake wasn’t a man concerned with others’ perceptions, so why should he feel himself rising to the bait of this woman he had nothing, nothing, invested in?

She glared up at him in silent accusation, and suddenly concepts like self-control and maturity lost their allure. “Relax, sweetheart, if I’d really wanted you in bed, or bent over anything, I would have had you there last night. All I had to do was stop one second earlier and you would have been begging me. Strike that. You did beg.”

Cali’s chin pulled back with her gasp. Patches of red splashed up her neck and face. “You jackass!”

Ha! That felt better. Rising above was overrated. “Really? Me?”

“I never—”

“Please, don’t even try to deny that you weren’t desperate for what I gave you.”

Cali’s fists landed on her hips as she leaned forward. “Desperate’s a pretty big word when satisfaction comes as easy as a pack of D-cell batteries, buddy,” she answered with an icy laugh.

He knew what she was implying, and he didn’t want to think about it—not now. Not with her waving her ticket to Crazyville in his face.

They’d gotten off track, anyway. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth for a moment’s control. They needed to take this down a notch.

“Look, trust me, I’m not about to go talking to Amanda about this.”

“Oh, that I never doubted,” she huffed. “Men like you make me want to…to…”

She’d stopped in her tracks, and, standing there red-faced, arms cocked at her sides, fists balled, she looked as if she wanted to stomp her foot.

She was a hassle.

Irrational.

Probably bipolar, considering the swing from last night’s engaging sweetheart to this morning’s unreasonable aggressor. His focus narrowed on the rise and fall of her chest, the pull and give of blue and white fabric across her breasts, the flush of red that darkened the hollow between them.

Sexy.

Jake didn’t do “crazy”. The passionate drama that drew some men was, to him, like a neon sign flashing in screaming orange: Run!

Only this time it wasn’t.

This time all that irrational heat and intensity was wrapped in a package he’d had his hands on once and was finding it harder and harder to ignore.

“Men like me make you want to what?” he asked, taking a step toward her, dropping his tone to a bedroom lure. “I know what I made you want last night.”

“Low-life bastard.” Her breath came faster, and the flutter of her pulse beneath the delicate skin of her neck became frantic. When she stepped back he closed in, propelled by some kind of contagious mental illness driving his predatory urge.

“Tell me, Cali. What’s so different about this morning?” he taunted.

Her eyes darkened, the long muscles of her throat moving up and down as she backed herself into the wall, crossing her arms over her chest—but not fast enough to hide the evidence of her hardened nipples straining through the taut fabric of her shirt. Lies and denial would only take her so far.

“Are you deranged?” she whispered, in a husky voice that betrayed her emotions as much as the rest of her body had.

Definitely. He had to be. Because something inside him had snapped and all he could think about was getting Cali into that big bed behind her. “You respond to me physically. I can see it.”

“Because you’re man-candy. But I still wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

“Man-candy?” He nearly laughed, loving the sound of it. “Really?”

“It’s an insult!” she hissed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m dehumanizing you. Feel cheap and dirty, but for God’s sake don’t revel in it!”

There wasn’t much he could do but shrug. “Man-candy” was the best insult he’d heard this decade. But Cali wasn’t done with him.

“Is this some kind of sexual addiction condition with you? Do you need a support group? Can I call your sponsor?”

Jake just stared steadily at her, knowing the bravado was about to break. And then it did—only not in the breathless, tossing-herself-into-his-arms way he’d expected.

Suddenly Cali looked weary and defeated as she peered up at him. “Don’t vows mean anything to you?”

That stopped him dead. Vows?

Pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, revealing a picture—

Not possible. She couldn’t think…

But then it all made sense. The way she’d referred to Amanda. Her shock at seeing him, her hostility, her disgust, her resistance to the obvious chemistry between them.

She thought he was married. And she was utterly undone over it—out of her mind upset, offended, and enraged.

The corner of his mouth pulled into a grin he couldn’t fight. His sexy Cali, who hadn’t been kissed in so very long and who sparked his blood to fire, was a principled little thing.

“Stop leering at me like that!” she snapped.

“So this—this animosity is about the vows?” he asked, suddenly curious about the strength of her convictions.

She blinked twice, and then met his stare with her own. “Don’t mock me. Of course it’s about the vows. And my job. Amanda’s my boss. It’s despicable that you don’t have enough respect for your poor wife to keep your tongue to yourself.”

“Hey, as I remember it, you seemed rather eager for my tongue last night.” And she’d tasted good, too.

“But to drag me into your—your debauchery is unconscionable—”

Debauchery? Come on, that was cute.

“Of course if you don’t care about your marriage, why would I think you’d care about jeopardizing my career?”

Now, that wasn’t something she should have to worry about. This had gone far enough.

“Just settle down. You’ve got me all wrong—” he began, feeling better than he had since the moment she tore out of the bar.

“Save it. I haven’t got you at all.” With a cock of her head and a patronizing smile, she added, “Nor do I have any desire to get you.”

“No, Cali, really, you—”

“Please! I’m not interested. If you’ll give me the key and the address, we can say goodbye now and get on with the fallout from this freaking disaster.” Her fury seemed to burn away as he watched. She slumped against the wall, her face slackened and her lids closed. “Please.”

Jake caught her chin between his finger and thumb and forced her to look at him. “Let me finish.”

Sure he had her attention, he softened his voice and lowered his face an inch closer to hers. “I didn’t realize Amanda still referred to me as her brother-in-law, because, lawfully speaking, I’m not. The ‘poor wife’ you’re referring to remarried four years ago, and has been living quite happily with Paulo ever since.”

Her mouth dropped open, making Jake’s curve.

“I. Am. Not. Married.”