Читать книгу Hired For His Pleasure: The Talk of Hollywood / Keeping Her Up All Night / Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss - Кэрол Мортимер, Susanne James - Страница 9

‘WHAT’S with all the extra security at the front gates?’

Much as six weeks previously, Stazy had been prowling restlessly up and down in the drawing room of Bromley House as she waited for Jaxon Wilder. Her stomach had tightened into knots when she’d finally seen their visitor had arrived. Not in the expensive black sports car she had been expecting, but on a powerful black and chrome motorbike instead.

Convinced Jaxon Wilder couldn’t possibly be the person riding that purring black machine, and confused as to why the guards had let a biker through the front gates at all, Stazy had continued to frown out of the window as the rider had brought the bike to a halt outside the drawing room window, before swinging off the seat and straightening to his full, impressive height.

The man was completely dressed in black—black helmet with smoky-black visor, black leathers that fitted snugly to muscled shoulders and back, narrowed waist and taut backside, and long, powerful legs. Black leather gloves. And heavy black biker boots.

He—it was definitely a he, with that height and those wide and muscled shoulders—had had his back turned towards her as he’d removed his gloves, before unfastening and removing the helmet and shaking back his almost shoulder-length dark hair as he placed the helmet on top of the black leather seat.

Stazy had felt the colour drain from her cheeks as the rider had turned and she had instantly recognised him. Jaxon Wilder. Almost instantly he had looked straight up into the window where she stood staring down at him, leaving her in absolutely no doubt as to his knowing he was being watched.

Staring?

Gaping at him was probably a more apt description!

All her defences had gone—crumbled—with the disappearance of the sophisticated man she had met six weeks ago, wearing a discreetly tailored suit, silk shirt and tie, with his dark hair slightly long but nevertheless neatly styled. In his place was a rugged and dangerous-looking man who looked as if he would be completely at home at a Hell’s Angels reunion!

Stazy had left all the details of Jaxon’s visit to her grandfather, knowing from conversations with Geoffrey that the two men had been in contact by telephone on several occasions during the last six weeks, and that the date for Jaxon to arrive at Bromley House had been fixed for today—the day after Stazy had driven herself down from London.

That initial meeting with Jaxon, the sizzling awareness she had felt, had seemed like something of a dream once Stazy had been back in London. So much so that she hadn’t even mentioned her encounter to any of her friends at the university. Besides, she very much doubted that her work colleagues would have been interested in knowing she had spent part of the weekend with the famous Hollywood actor and director Jaxon Wilder.

But that didn’t mean Stazy hadn’t thought about him. About the way he looked. The aura of male power that was so much a part of him. The mesmerising grey of his eyes. The sensual curve of those chiselled lips. The deep and sexy timbre of his voice.

That aura was even more in evidence today—dangerously so!—as he looked up at her and gave her a slow and knowing grin.

Stazy had been completely flustered at being caught staring at him. Damn it, just because the man had arrived today looking like testosterone on legs, it didn’t mean she had to behave as though she were no older than one of her students. She was virtually drooling, with her tongue almost hanging out, and she found it impossible to look away from how hot Jaxon looked in biker’s leathers!

He had become no less imposing when the butler had shown him into the drawing room. Those leathers fitted Jaxon’s muscled body like a second skin, the black boots added a couple of inches to his already considerable height, and that overlong dark hair fell softly onto his shoulders.

Already feeling something of a fool for being caught staring out of the window at him in that ridiculous way, Stazy was in no mood to repeat the experience.

‘And a good afternoon to you, too, Jaxon,’ she drawled pointedly.

Humour lightened his eyes. ‘Are we aiming at playing nice this time around?’

‘I thought we might give it a try, yes.’ The tartness in her voice totally belied that.

Jaxon grinned, totally appreciative of how good Stazy looked in a white blouse that fitted snugly to the flatness of her abdomen and the fullness of her breasts, with faded denims fitting just as snugly to her curvaceous bottom and long and slender legs. Her glorious red-gold hair tumbled in loose layers over her shoulders and down the slenderness of her back today. And those sultry green eyes glowed like twin emeralds in the sun-kissed beauty of her delicately beautiful face.

She looked far younger and sexier today than the twenty-nine Jaxon knew her to be. In fact if any of his own university lecturers had ever looked this good then he doubted he would ever have been able to concentrate on attaining his degree. ‘In that case, good afternoon, Stazy,’ he drawled.

She gave him a slow and critical perusal, from the soles of his booted feet to his overlong hair. ‘Are you on your way to a fancy dress party?’

He raised derisive brows. ‘Whatever happened to playing nice …?’

She shrugged. ‘It seems a perfectly reasonable question, considering the way you’re dressed today. Or not, as the case may be.’ She grimaced.

After the way she had stared wide-eyed at him out of the window earlier, Jaxon wasn’t at all convinced by Dr Stazy Bromley’s condescending tone in regard to the way he was dressed. He returned her shrug. ‘I keep an apartment for my use when I’m in London, and the car and the bike are kept there too. As it’s such a beautiful day, and I’ve been stuck on a plane for hours, I decided a ride down on the bike was called for.’ He gave an appreciative smile. ‘Have you ever been on a bike before, Stazy?’

‘No,’ Stazy answered huskily, her cheeks blazing with colour as she was assailed with the idea of wrapping her legs around that monstrous machine, feeling its vibration between her legs even as her arms were tightly clasped about the strength of Jaxon’s waist, her breasts pressed against the warmth of that muscled back—

‘Would you like to …?’

Stazy straightened abruptly, completely nonplussed at the way her thoughts kept wandering down a sensual path that was totally alien to her. Especially as she had managed to convince herself these last six weeks that she had imagined finding this man in the least attractive! ‘No, thanks,’ she dismissed coolly.

‘You only have to say so if you should change your mind …’

‘I won’t,’ she assured firmly. ‘Is the bike also the reason for the long hair?’ she prompted abruptly, fighting the uncharacteristic longing to run her fingers through those silky dark locks.

She had dated very little during the past eleven years, and the few men she had been out with had always possessed intellect rather than brawn. She had never particularly cared for long hair on men—had always thought it rather effeminate.

Jaxon had shown on the last occasion they had met that he was a man of intellect as well as brawn. And as for his being effeminate—the man was so blatantly male there was no possibility of ever doubting his masculinity!

‘The long hair is for a pirate movie I start filming next month.’ He ran his fingers ruefully through the length of that hair.

In exactly the same way Stazy’s fingers itched to do!

She clasped her wayward hands firmly together behind her back. ‘I’d always assumed actors wore a wig or extensions for those sorts of roles?’

He grimaced. ‘I’ve always preferred to go with the real thing.’

Just the thought of Jaxon as a pirate, sweeping his captive—her!—up into his arms, was enough to make Stazy’s palms feel damp. ‘Whatever,’ she snapped.

What on earth was wrong with her?

She’d never had fantasies about being swept off her feet by a marauding pirate before, so why now?

The disturbing answer to that question unfortunately stood only feet away from her …

‘So, you didn’t answer me—what’s with the added security at the front gates?’ Jaxon prompted lightly.

‘I’m afraid it’s all over the estate—not just the front gates.’ Stazy shrugged. ‘My grandfather arranged it.’

That didn’t sound good. ‘To keep the two of us in or other people out?’ he asked.

‘Very funny.’ Those full and sensuous lips thinned at his teasing. ‘Gramps received a telephone call late last night and the security guards arrived almost immediately afterwards. I believe he did attempt to call you and give you the option to postpone your visit until a later date, but he couldn’t reach you on any of the telephone numbers you’d given him …’ She arched red-gold brows.

‘As I said earlier, I only arrived in England a few hours ago. I was probably in transit,’ Jaxon dismissed distractedly. ‘Any idea what the problem is?’

‘Gramps never discusses matters of security with me.’ She shook her head. ‘Unfortunately you won’t be able to discuss it with him either,’ she added unapologetically, ‘because he left for London very early this morning.’

Meaning that, apart from the household staff, the two of them were currently alone here together.

Probably not a good idea, when Jaxon was totally aware of Stazy’s femininity today in the fitted blouse and tight denims. And that glorious unconfined red-gold hair was a temptation he was barely able to resist reaching out and touching.

What would it feel like, he wondered, to entangle his fingers in that silky hair? Or, even more appealing, to have the length of that gorgeous hair tumbling sensuously about his thighs as a naked Stazy knelt between his parted legs, her fingers curled about his throbbing shaft as she bent forward to taste him …?

‘He did say he would try to telephone you later today to explain,’ she added dismissively.

‘Fine,’ Jaxon accepted tersely, aware that his erotic imaginings had produced a bulge of arousal beneath the fitted leathers. Something Stazy was going to become aware of too if he didn’t get out of here soon!

‘I’m sure he’ll understand if, under the circumstances, you decide you would rather leave the research for now and come back another time …’

Was that hope he heard in Stazy’s voice? Probably, Jaxon acknowledged ruefully. Despite her casual appearance, she didn’t seem any more pleased to see him this time around than she had six weeks ago. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Stazy, but I don’t have any other time free.’

‘I assure you it makes absolutely no difference to me whether you stay or go,’ she dismissed scathingly.

Nope, Stazy wasn’t pleased to have him here at all. ‘In that case, I’m staying,’ he drawled.

Stazy nodded tersely. ‘Gramps left all the necessary papers in the library for us to look through, if you would like to get started?’

Jaxon shook his head. ‘I’ve been travelling for almost twenty-four hours. What I would really like to do is shower and change out of these leathers.’ All of that should give enough time for his wayward arousal to ease!

Unfortunately Jaxon’s request instantly gave Stazy an image of Jaxon stripped out of those decadent leathers, standing naked beneath a hot shower, the darkness of his hair wet and tousled as rivulets of soapy water ran down his hard and tanned torso—

‘Would you like some tea before you go upstairs?’ she bit out abruptly, inwardly cursing the way her breasts felt fuller just at her thinking about a naked Jaxon in the shower.

This was ridiculous, damn it! She had never been a sensual being—had certainly never—ever!—reacted like this in her life before, let alone found her imagination wandering off into flights of fantasy about a man whose reputation with women was legendary!

‘Just the shower and a change of clothes, thanks.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll have Little take you up to the suite of rooms my grandfather has had prepared for your arrival.’

‘Why put the butler to all that trouble when you’re already here …?’ Jaxon asked huskily.

Stazy stilled, her finger poised over the button that would summon the butler back to the drawing room, before slowly turning to look at Jaxon. The mockery in those assessing grey eyes and the challenging expression on his ruggedly handsome face indicated that he was aware of exactly how much his suggestion had disconcerted her.

Her mouth thinned. ‘Fine.’

Jaxon realised this was going to be a long week if the two of them were going to get into a battle of wills over something as small as Stazy showing him up to his suite of rooms!

‘I trust you didn’t have too much of a problem rearranging your departure for Iraq to next week instead of this?’ He attempted conversation as the two of them walked up the wide staircase together.

She gave him the briefest of glances from those emerald-green eyes. ‘Would it bother you if I had?’

‘Honestly? Not really.’ He grimaced, only to raise surprised brows as she gave a laugh. A husky laugh that brought a warm glow to those sultry green eyes. A dimple appeared in her left cheek as the parted fullness of her lips curved into a smile.

Strangely, Jaxon had found himself thinking about those sensuous lips more often than he would have liked these past six weeks. Full and luscious lips that were at odds with the rest of Stazy’s buttoned down, no-nonsense appearance. The sort of lips that would be delicious to kiss and taste, and to have kiss and taste him in return.

Something he probably shouldn’t think of again when he was already so hard his erection waxs pressing painfully against the confines of his leathers!

‘Which isn’t to say I don’t appreciate your having—’

‘Oh, don’t go and spoil it by apologising, Jaxon.’ Stazy still chuckled softly as they reached the top of the stairs and she turned right to walk down the hallway ahead of him. ‘If we’re to spend any amount of time together then you need to know that I’ll appreciate your honesty much more than I would any false charm.’

‘My charm is never false,’ he snapped irritably.

Stazy turned to quirk a teasing brow. ‘Never? Be warned, Jaxon, I’m guilty of having watched film awards on television in the past!’

‘Guilty …?’

She snorted. ‘Oh, come on, Jaxon—it’s all so much glitzy hype, isn’t it?’

‘I believe the newspapers praised me for the shortness of my acceptance speech this year,’ he drawled.

‘I’m not surprised; I thought your co-star was never going to get off the podium!’

‘She can be … a little emotional,’ Jaxon allowed reluctantly.

‘A little …?’ Stazy raised mocking brows. ‘She thanked everyone but the man who sweeps the studio floor!’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You really can be a—’ He broke off with an impatient shake of his head. ‘Never mind,’ he muttered tersely.

Stazy pushed open the door to the suite of rooms she knew her grandfather had allocated to his guest. The green and cream decor and dark furniture there was more obviously masculine than in some of the other guest suites, as was the adjoining cream and gold bathroom visible through the open doorway. But it was the massive four-poster bed that dominated.

‘The sitting room is through here.’ She turned away from the intimacy of the bedroom to walk through to the adjoining room with its green carpet and cream sofa. A mahogany desk placed in front of the bay window looked out over the gardens at the back of the house, with the blue of the sea visible above the high wall that surrounded the grounds.

‘This is very nice,’ Jaxon murmured evenly.

Stazy eyed him derisively. ‘You seem a little … tense?’

Those grey eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder why!’

She shrugged. ‘Can I help it if the much publicised Wilder charm doesn’t work on me?’

Jaxon’s mouth thinned at the deliberate insult. ‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read in trashy magazines!’

Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘I’ve never read a trashy magazine in my life, thank you very much!’

‘Too lowbrow for you?’ he taunted.

She drew in a sharp breath. ‘My grandfather made it clear to me before he left that he expected me to be polite to a guest in his home during his absence—’

‘I hate to be the one to tell you—but so far today you’ve failed. Miserably!’ Jaxon bit out.

Stazy eyed him coolly. ‘Being polite doesn’t mean I have to be insincere.’

‘If you wouldn’t mind …?’ He began to unzip those body-moulding leathers. ‘I would like to take my shower now.’ He arched mocking brows.

Stazy had no doubt that Jaxon’s challenging attitude now was in return for her earlier scathing comments about ‘the much-published Wilder charm’. But as he continued to move that zip further and further down his hard muscled chest she knew it was a challenge she simply didn’t have the sophistication—or the experience!—to meet.

‘Come downstairs when you’re ready and I’ll show you the library where we’re to work,’ she said stiltedly, before turning sharply on her booted heels and hurrying over to the doorway.

Totally aware of the sound of Jaxon’s throaty laughter behind her.

‘Where do you want to start?’

‘I have absolutely no idea.’ Jaxon looked down in some dismay at the copious amount of documents and notebooks Geoffrey Bromley had left neatly stacked on the desktop in the library for him to look through.

Jaxon wasn’t sure he would be able to get through them all in just the week Stazy had agreed to give him.

The library itself was full of floor to ceiling mahogany bookcases stacked mainly with leather-bound books, although some of the shelves near the door seemed to be full of more modern hardbacks that he might like to explore another time.

Jaxon felt somewhat refreshed after a long cold shower and a change of clothes, and thankfully had succeeded in dissipating the last of his erection as well as washing off the travel dust.

The erection was something—despite their sharp exchange in his suite earlier—that was guaranteed not to stay away for very long if Stazy was going to continue bending over the desk in that provocative way, her denims clearly outlining the perfect curve of her bottom.

‘Maybe we should just sort them out year by year today, and start looking through them properly tomorrow?’ he prompted tersely.

‘Sounds logical.’ Stazy nodded.

Jaxon regarded her through narrowed lids. ‘And are you big on logic?’

She looked irritated by the implied criticism. ‘I’ve always found it’s the best way to approach most situations, yes.’

‘Hmm.’ He nodded. ‘The problem with logic is that it leaves no room for emotion.’

‘Which is precisely the point,’ Stazy reasoned shortly.

No doubt—but Jaxon didn’t work that way. ‘Are these Anastasia’s diaries?’ He ran awed fingers lightly over a pile of a dozen small notebooks.

‘They certainly look like them, yes …’ Stazy frowned down at them as if they were a bomb about to go off.

He glanced up as he sensed her tension. ‘You didn’t know there were diaries?’

She gave a pained wince. ‘No.’

Jaxon breathed deeply. ‘Stazy, as much as you may choose not to think so, I do appreciate that none of this can be easy for you—’

Those green eyes flashed in warning. ‘I doubt you have any idea how much I hate doing this!’

‘Obviously Anastasia was your grandmother, and you only knew her during her latter years, but—’

‘But even then she would still have known exactly how to deal with someone like you!’ Stazy assured him dismissively. Even that red-gold hair seemed to crackle with her repressed anger.

‘Like me?’ he said softly.

‘You know exactly what I mean!’

‘I do,’ he acknowledged, with that same deceptive mildness. ‘I’d just like to hear you say it,’ he added challengingly.

She glared her frustration. ‘Jaxon, you’ve known from the first that nothing is going to make me like you or your damned film!’

‘Nothing …?’

Stazy stilled as she looked up at him guardedly. The darkness of that overlong hair was still damp and slightly tousled from his shower. His jaw was freshly shaven, and he had changed out of the black leathers into a tight-fitting white short-sleeved tee shirt that revealed the tanned strength of his arms and black denims that rested low down on the leanness of his waist.

He looked, in fact, every inch Jaxon Wilder—sex symbol of both the big and little screen. A stark reminder—if Stazy had needed one—of just how little it actually mattered to this man whether or not she liked or approved of him and what he was doing.

Her chin rose determinedly. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Jaxon, but I have absolutely no interest in … in providing you with a—a romantic diversion to help while away your leisure time during your week-long stay here,’ she assured him derisively.

‘What on earth makes you think I would be in the least interested in having you as “a romantic diversion”—now or at any other time …?’ His expression was amused as he leant back against the desk and looked down at her with mocking grey eyes, his arms folded across the powerful width of his chest, revealing the bulge of muscle at the tops of his tanned arms.

Stazy’s cheeks heated with embarrassed colour at this deliberate set-down. What on earth had she been thinking? Of course Jaxon’s challenge hadn’t been hinting he was in the least interested in her in a personal way!

‘But just to set my mind at ease, if things should go that way between us I’d be interested to know whether or not you’re involved with someone at the moment …?’

When had Jaxon moved so that he now stood only inches away from her? Stazy wondered warily. He was pinning her as he looked down at her with piercing grey eyes.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I don’t see what that has to do with anything …’

‘Humour me, hmm?’ he encouraged gruffly.

The more immediate problem for Stazy—the whole root of the problem between the two of them—was that from their first meeting she had realised his magnetism was such that she wanted to do so much more than humour this man!

It was totally illogical. Ridiculous. Not only that, but it went totally against everything she had said and thought about this man!

And yet at this moment she literally ached to curve her body into his as she ran her hands lightly up the warmth of that muscled chest, over the broad expanse of his shoulders, before allowing her fingers to become entangled in the heavy thickness of that overlong dark hair to pull his head down and have those sensually chiselled lips claim hers.

This wasn’t just ridiculous—it was dangerous!

And so completely out of character that Stazy barely recognised herself. Damn it, she didn’t even want to recognise herself as this woman who couldn’t seem to stop fantasising about the two of them in one clinch or another!

She had taken precisely two lovers in her twenty-nine years. The first had been one of her university lecturers, twenty years her senior, on a single night ten years ago. The second one had been a man on a summer dig in Tunisia four years ago—a man who had a wife and children back home in England. Admittedly that was something Stazy had only learnt after spending the night with him, when his wife had telephoned to inform him that one of his three children was in hospital and he was needed back home immediately!

Neither of those experiences had resulted in Stazy feeling any warmth or pleasure in the act, let alone having an orgasm. They certainly hadn’t prepared her for the seductively lethal charm and good looks of Jaxon Wilder!

She stepped back abruptly. ‘As it happens I’m not involved with anyone at the moment. Nor do I wish to be,’ she added with cold dismissal.

It was a coldness so at odds with the quickened rise and fall of her breasts, the deepening in colour of those sultry green eyes and the soft swelling of poutingly moist lips, that Jaxon wanted nothing more than to take Stazy in his arms and prove her wrong!

That need hovered in the air between them for several long, tense seconds.

Stazy’s chin rose as she deliberately tilted her head back in order to meet his gaze.

Did she have any idea how tempted Jaxon was by that challenge? Of how he wanted nothing more at that moment than to pull her into his arms and kiss the hell out of her?

Stazy was a beautiful woman in her late twenties, and as such she had to be aware of exactly what she was doing. Which begged the question—did she actually want him to kiss the hell out of her …?