CHAPTER FOUR
“WHAT’S THE MATTER, JACK? Cat got your tongue?” Mallory leaned so close he couldn’t draw a breath let alone utter a word in response.
Her fingernails, painted a hot coral shade, trailed a path from his jaw to the top button on his polo shirt. Her skin was as soft and alluring as her touch and he shivered at the brazen assault.
“Or maybe your collar’s just too tight for you to breathe and speak at the same time,” she murmured. With nimble fingers, she released the top button.
He would have inhaled easier if not for her warm breath on his cheek, the pout of her luscious lips also in a glossy coral and the intoxicating scent surrounding him. All worked together to arouse. He’d known going in that seduction was the stranger’s intent. He hadn’t known he’d be facing his so-called repressed colleague and in that respect, Mallory had caught him off guard.
And Jack didn’t like surprises. In court he never asked a question he didn’t know the answer to beforehand. Too many attorneys had been tripped up by assumptions. Too many men had been scammed into thinking they knew the woman they were involved with. Jack wouldn’t let himself be tripped up or scammed, especially by a woman.
He made his own rules then lived by them. But he’d broken one of those rules when he’d responded to the invitation so he had no one but himself to blame if he found himself at a disadvantage now.
“Maybe you just took me by surprise.” He met her gaze, stunned into silence once more by the shocking blue of her eyes, surrounded by incredible waves of black hair.
She nodded. “The frigid façade.”
He heard the ice in her tone along with the trace of hurt she couldn’t hide, but no way would he ever associate this woman with the word frigid ever again.
“I insulted you.”
She inclined her head. Assent or was she assessing him? Before he could decide or even wince at his earlier, poorly chosen phrasing, she spoke.
“Yes, you insulted me. Yet I have to admit that was an interesting description of a woman you barely know.” Her words implied she intended to correct not only his erroneous assumption but also the status of their relationship.
Her next move proved him right. She settled herself into the seat cushion beside him, so close he forgot to breathe until he forced himself to focus on his surroundings and not his sexy hostess. With his eyes shut earlier, he’d curled his hands around cushioned softness and he realized now his guess had been right—the sofa was crushed velvet, a taupe and white mix of color that complimented the rest of the interior design. Comfortable for both male and female guests.
She curled her legs Indian-style. His gaze was drawn downward to the soft, shimmery material of her skirt, yellow silk beneath a sheath of sheer organza, then to the delicate wisp of a sandal covering her feet. Coral accented her toenails, just as it did her lips and fingernails.
She played with the skirt until it fell provocatively between her legs, covering yet revealing at the same time. She was toying with him. He knew it and so did she, yet he enjoyed the teasing too much to call her on it.
There were no traces left of the staid, uptight, repressed colleague he’d flown with. “I take it I’m here so you can prove my assumption about you was wrong.”
As he spoke, he let his gaze travel upward again. Though the skirt was full, it revealed a narrow waist and he had a sudden desire to lift the flowing material and take a look at those legs he’d noticed this afternoon.
“Dichotomy is interesting, isn’t it?” she asked.
Tempt. Torment. Tease. Obviously she wasn’t going to answer him directly. He met her gaze, and realized she’d caught him staring. He wouldn’t apologize. For one thing he wasn’t sorry. And for another, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink beneath the artificial color, telling him he affected her, too.
Jack refused to give up what little power he possessed in this game she’d set up. “Everyone and everything in life has two faces, two sides. Not all of them pleasant.”
He’d learned early on that his loving mother, his father’s devoted wife in public, was a cold, uncaring, cheating female in private. As time marched on, she didn’t care who knew the truth and the dichotomy she’d presented merged into a singular unhappy woman. Since then, Jack had become an expert on the two faces of human nature.
Mallory’s eyes narrowed, as if she realized his words revealed a part of his soul. He silently cursed. How could he forget this seductive female had a brain like a steel trap and the instincts of a killer shark? That dichotomy she’d mentioned. The one he’d always looked for in others. Why did he find it so easy to forget Mallory possessed another colder, more calculating side?
Which Mallory was real, which was the impostor?
“So you’re already attuned to the subtleties of human nature. That’s good since it makes my job that much easier.” She smiled, a sexy smile meant to disarm and make him wonder what she planned next.
He could only wait and see. Despite the danger—to the private emotions she effortlessly tapped into and to the career he’d built and had no business risking for a fling with a colleague—the anticipation stoked a fire of burning need deep inside him. One he didn’t fully understand.
Obviously he’d sensed there was more to his repressed colleague than met the eye or he wouldn’t have had those occasional bouts of arousal—when he’d heard her husky voice, or inhaled her luscious scent on the plane. The same scent, he now realized, he smelled on the invitation this afternoon. His mind hadn’t been ready then to grasp the possibilities. He was ready now. More than ready if the blood pumping through his veins was any indication. She was playing a game and he intended to draw out the intensity and the pleasure.
He had no doubt she’d back off first. The no-office-romance policy would weigh more heavily on her mind since she had a partnership at stake and knew his vote could destroy her chances and all she’d worked for. Not that he’d ever jeopardize her career over this invitation to seduction. He had too much respect for her as a lawyer and too much admiration for the woman who’d lured him here to teach him a well-deserved lesson.
But he could enjoy the steps along the way. “I obviously spoke out of turn this morning by using the word frigid. But the word façade—now that was right on target.”
A wide smile touched her face and radiance glowed from the porcelain skin on her cheeks. “You’re a smart man, Jack. Façade. Defined it means a false, superficial or artificial appearance or effect.”
“And that’s what this is?” His hand swept the air around her before he laid his arm back on the couch. Mere inches from the silken bare flesh revealed by the matching camisole she wore.
Though her daily suits did little to reveal womanly curves, Jack saw plenty now. She had full breasts, fuller than he’d imagined and creamy white skin peeked through the deep vee of her top.
“You’re wondering which is the real Mallory?” Her sultry laugh lit the night air. “That’s for you to find out.”
She teased him with what-if’s and myriad other sensual possibilities.
“Are you ready to eat?” she asked.
The question led to thoughts of decadent delights, feasting on her glistening lips and tasting her hidden feminine secrets. But he doubted that was what she had in mind.
At least not yet. A wicked voice in his head taunted him, just as her nearness teased him. He wanted to close the distance, to sweep his hand over the expanse of skin on her neck and shoulders, to bring her close enough for him to devour with his mouth.
“I’m hungry,” he replied. And if she looked down, she’d see exactly how ravenous he was. He tried to swallow but his throat had grown dry. “But how about a drink first?”
She rose from the couch with fluid grace and walked over to the minibar. “Vodka on the rocks, yes?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You remember?”
Mallory nodded. “I pay attention.” To everything about you, she thought.
She drank in his charcoal-gray eyes, lit by anticipation and awareness. She took notice of his jet-black hair, combed and sexy despite—or was it because of—its perfection? Her gaze dipped lower. The intriguing bit of chest hair visible from his now open collar was seared into her memory.
Jack Latham was a potent masculine package. And that was the problem. Her mental obsession with him and what he thought of her had brought her to a dangerous precipice. He’d challenged her femininity and she’d responded, putting her career and her future on the line. She could not believe she’d taken her humiliation over his insulting comment this far. But now that she had, Mallory had no choice but to follow through with her plan to show Jack the woman behind the façade.
“I pay attention, too. Your reputation for thoroughness and your expertise is unrivaled among the firm’s associates.”
She warmed at his compliment, knowing she’d transformed herself into the frigid Mallory for that very purpose. “Thank you.”
After pouring his vodka and her wine for much needed courage, she returned to the sofa. With any luck she could remain in control of herself and her reactions at the same time she tested his.
She handed him his glass and their hands touched. Brief and accidental, yet a tremor of awareness ricocheted throughout her body. So much for control, Mallory thought. Since he was here in response to her invitation and he didn’t seem inclined to bolt now that he realized she was the invitee, she willed herself to remain calm, forget business and concentrate on Jack.
By the time the evening was over, Jack would have no doubts regarding Mallory’s womanly attributes and feminine wiles. Point made, things between them then could return to normal. As if anything could ever be normal again now that she’d come this close to her fantasy.
She seated herself beside him and silence followed. “So tell me about the Terminator,” she said, before he could take charge of the conversation.
“It’s a great movie but the first was better than the sequel,” he said quickly.
Too quickly and his expression grew shuttered as it had earlier, when he’d discussed the two sides of human nature.
She sensed his discomfort and wondered at the cause of his withdrawal. She lifted her drink to her lips and took a long sip.
The fruity liquid slid down her throat, wetting her mouth so she could speak. “I agree. Sequels are rarely as good as the original. In Terminator Two, there were too many muscles on Linda Hamilton. Yet she made the men drool.” Mallory shrugged. “I always thought men liked their women on the softer side.”
Surprise at her response registered on his face. Obviously he thought she’d continue to push him for answers about what made him the office terminator. Her cousin Julia would have taken a more overt approach. Mallory preferred subtlety. She was coming on strong enough as it was.
And this way, he wouldn’t know he was easy to read. His poorly timed movie joke had given her a more personal glimpse into his feelings about being the marriage terminator than if he’d answered with dry facts. There was time enough for those.
She ran her tongue over the rim of the glass, savoring every droplet of wine. She was gratified when his gaze followed the movement and his eyes dilated with desire.
His stare locked with hers and though he’d obviously been caught again, he didn’t back off or look away. He was as direct as she’d been in bringing him here and she appreciated his forthrightness.
“So what’s your take? How do you like your women, Jack? Soft and feminine or harder with an edge of steel?”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth into a sexy grin. “I like them to possess a bit of both. Strong and capable on the outside, yet soft and pliant, warm and giving within.” He reached forward and grasped her glass, easing it out of her fingers and placing it on the table beside the couch.
“Sort of like you,” he murmured. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
His touch was warm and sexy, like the timbre of his voice and she reacted. Her nipples tightened beneath the silk and the bare wisp of a bra she wore. Another gentle caress like that last one and she’d lose what little semblance of control she possessed.
He placed his glass beside her own. “Unless of course, this is an act.”
Aah. He wanted to test her limits and see if she turned back into uptight, frigid Mallory. He wanted to see who would run first. Poor Jack. He had no idea she was prepared to see this through and deal with the consequences later.
“Maybe it is an act. Maybe it isn’t. The point is you still aren’t sure, are you?”
“Not yet.” He leaned forward until his lips were mere inches from hers. “But the night’s still young and I plan to find out.”
His mouth hovered close to hers. Hot with a hint of Absolut vodka, his breath teased her with seductive promises she wasn’t ready to make or keep. Yet.
“Not so fast.” She playfully pushed back on his shoulders before he could possess her mouth in the kiss she so desperately wanted despite the need to back off. If there was any kissing to be done tonight, she’d be the one to initiate. Otherwise she had no prayer of proving her point. And that’s what tonight was all about, she reminded herself. Proving a point, not gaining pleasure, though she sensed she’d experience that, too.
But she couldn’t risk serious involvement with Jack Latham and anything beyond this playful evening would constitute involvement. Something neither her emotions nor her career could afford.
She’d spent too many years building toward a partnership. Too many lonely, unfulfilled years maybe, but if she was going to receive the ultimate payoff in the end, she couldn’t succumb to emotional need or desire with the one man she’d always wanted. Not now. She hoped Jack took her teasing in the right light or she’d ruin everything anyway.
Forcing herself to remember her priorities, which wasn’t easy when kissing Jack was within easy reach, she rose from her seat. “You said you were hungry.” She walked over to the table where room service had left a full meal including hors d’oeuvres.
“Starved.” His deep chuckle reverberated behind her.
He wouldn’t be amused by the time she was through.
“I thought you were staying in the main hotel.”
She appreciated the switch to mundane conversation. “Keeping tabs on me?”
“If I wasn’t before, I will be now.” She pivoted toward him in time to see Jack shake his head. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Sure you did. That’s why we’re here.” She toyed with a tray of grapes and assorted cheeses displayed in an elegant spread. One she’d added her own finishing touches to before Jack had arrived. The only question that remained was whether she had the nerve to carry out her plan.
Frigid façade, frigid façade. His words echoed in her mind and rankled every one of her feminine instincts. He didn’t know anything about her and she wanted him to learn.
She didn’t ever want him to forget.
“Actually, my secretary made the reservations so I know we’re on the same floor. Across the hall, in fact,” Jack said.
“These villas are available to rent for special occasions.” She set the tray in front of them on a small table and plucked a grape from its mooring.
“And this is a special occasion?” A wry smile formed on his lips.
“If that’s your take on the evening, I’m pleased.” She popped the fruit between her lips. The succulent juice burst, coating her mouth.
“I notice you don’t always answer a question directly.”
She edged closer to him. “I’m a lawyer. I’m trained in the technique of evasion.”
“It doesn’t look like you’re evading now,” he murmured.
She leaned forward, her weight braced on the palms of her hands. “Do you like grapes?”
He briefly glanced at the tray before meeting her gaze. “I could be persuaded to have a taste.”
“I hoped you would say that.” Now or never, Mallory thought and closed the distance between them, placing her lips over his.
Jack’s eyes registered first surprise, then darkened with desire. Closing her eyes so she wouldn’t drown in his gaze, she rubbed her lips delicately over his, using the juice from the grapes to tease and arouse. His lips were damp, tasting of vodka and man as a low groan escaped from the back of his throat. A curling warmth exploded in her belly with the knowledge that her passion was reciprocated. But it wasn’t enough.
“You wanted to taste grapes.” Her words were muffled against his lips. “Open up and taste the fruit, Jack.”
She knew he wasn’t a man prone to taking orders yet she didn’t have to demand twice. His lips opened on command and she slipped her tongue inside his hot, moist mouth. She’d read somewhere that the salivary glands under the tongue could be stimulated easily and secrete a sweetness that was unbearably arousing. She tested that theory now, using her tongue beneath his, to dart in and back, to tease before finally tangling and twining with his.
His groan came harsher this time and she felt his body shudder in return. His hands came up to brace her cheeks, to tip her head and hold her in place. Her heart beat hard and fast inside her chest along with an accompanying pulsing that had taken up a steady rhythm between her legs. One she felt, too, in the base of her throat.
In all her years, she’d never experienced the flame of desire raging out of control. Though she enjoyed sensuality, she’d yet to find a man who unleashed her hidden self. Jack Latham was that man and the yearning wouldn’t be denied. His arms grasped her waist and pulled her closer. Mallory responded, arching her back, deliberately rasping her painfully erect nipples against his chest, seeking relief, seeking him.
She’d set this scenario into motion but she’d only pictured Jack’s response to the feminine side he didn’t believe existed. Not once had she taken her own reactions into account. Even if she had, she’d never have been able to imagine such pleasure from a mere kiss. Such an all-consuming, building need inside her.
All from taking charge of the feminine desires she’d denied for too long. From letting loose the fantasy she’d always had surrounding this man.
Without warning, his tongue became more demanding, more insistent. He took control with the same sweeping, thrusting movements she’d tried on him. He was persistent, hot and erotic, on her palate, beneath her tongue, taking and draining every bit of moisture she possessed. Was it her imagination or was the sweetness of the wine magnified when shared? She tipped her head back and he swept the deep recesses of her mouth like a lover thrusting into carnal oblivion.
A small voice in her head whispered something about teaching him a lesson and warned her to take back control before it was too late. His lips felt so hard and so right, his touch so demanding she wanted to succumb to every sensation, taste and nuance. By the time he slowed and nibbled on her lower lip, every nerve ending she possessed was on fire. Her every thought and desire was attuned to Jack’s.
She reached her hands out to cup his wrists, taking hold of something, anything to keep her grounded. She couldn’t say who broke the kiss first, but when they separated, she needed the heated touch his skin provided, needed the connection with him to remain. Not a good sign, Mallory thought, amazed she could think at all.
“Delicious.” His low, throaty voice sounded more like a growl.
“So you liked the juice from the grapes.” A smile curved her now sensitive lips.
He nodded. She lifted the circular ring of grapes from the tray and draped it provocatively around her neck.
His eyes opened wide but he didn’t miss a beat. “I liked them but I think I need another taste to be sure.” He dipped his head and nibbled on the necklace she’d created and Mallory thought certain she’d died and gone to heaven before she realized she’d never been that good or deserving in her life. She certainly wasn’t being a good girl now.
His dark head bent over her chest and his silky dark hair brushed her throat. He smelled uniquely male and the scent rushed through her body as potent and heady as liquid desire. And his lips—those lips that had accepted her teaching and then kissed her with great skill now grazed not just the fruit, but her flesh. Warm laps of his tongue were followed by shorter, nibbling bites that just happened to miss the grape and end up on her skin.
She shuddered and moaned. She tipped her head back to give him better access. To the succulent fruit or to the waiting cleavage between her breasts. She sighed when his breath teased and groaned but he didn’t touch.
When he finally lifted his head, a wicked grin curved his lips.
“Now how were they?” She managed to summon a strong voice, determined to maintain control of the situation despite the fact that she’d never felt less in control of herself or her body.
His darkened gaze remained steady on hers. “Sweet and giving.”
Moisture pooled again in her mouth.
“Damp, not dry.”
Heat pounded low in her stomach.
“Surprisingly hot to the touch.”
Dampness trickled from between her legs yet somehow she managed to form a coherent thought and speak. “Hot?” The word escaped her burning throat.
“Sizzling.”
Like the heat that flared in his eyes, Mallory thought. “As in the opposite of frigid?” she asked.
A grin caught hold of his lips. “Most definitely.”
With more regret than she’d let him see, she leaned forward and brushed her lips over his for one last kiss. One last lingering taste before she forced herself to her feet, and rose on unsteady legs.
He leaned back and eyed her warily, though thanks to his analytical mind, Mallory sensed he knew exactly what she was thinking. His next words proved her right.
“You made your point.”
“I suppose I did.” In more ways than one, she thought, knowing she’d learned a valuable lesson tonight as well.
She inclined her head to one side. Thanks to his indulgent ministrations, the brush of her hair against her shoulders felt like an erotic caress against her sensitized skin.
No way did she want the evening to end, but she’d accomplished her goal and a good strategist got out at the optimum moment—before they lost what they’d gained. “So I guess we can call it a night.”
Something flickered in his darkened gaze. She’d like to think it was dismay.
“I suppose so.” He rose from his seat. As he began a lazy, sexy stride toward the door, he turned back and approached her once more. “You’re one hell of an opponent, Mallory Sinclair.”
His lips touched hers too briefly and then he was gone, leaving Mallory alone, sexually charged and for some strange reason she didn’t understand, emotionally unfulfilled.
She lifted the ring of grapes and she wondered who had been the teacher and who the student. And who had learned the greatest lesson of all. Because though she’d taught Jack his well-deserved lesson, she now knew she could never repeat the instruction without succumbing herself.