The next morning, Holly awoke in her bedroom. Her shades were drawn, making the room dark, although according to the clock, it was already almost noon. Her head pounded thickly with each heartbeat. Moaning, she sat up and looked over at the nightstand for her phone. Beside her cell, which had been plugged in for her, she found a glass of water, two little pills, and a note. It read:
Holly,
Take these as soon as you wake up and try to eat something. You’ll feel better. I’m sorry about last night. I’ll see you after work. Call me if you need anything.
–Jackson
Holly groaned as the events of last night poured back to her. In an alcohol-fueled haze, she’d thrown herself at her boss. She stripped in front of him and then pleaded with him to stay with her. But it hadn’t mattered because he’d rejected her, just like she feared he would. She felt hot with embarrassment. She popped the Tylenol into her mouth and drowned it with a gulp of water. At least Jackson had already left for work hours ago.
The apartment was silent and the kitchen was empty. Mrs. Klein must’ve been out, and Holly was grateful that she could get something to eat without being questioned about her evening. She made some toast and scurried back to her room to get ready to go shopping. No matter how terrible she felt, it reminded her that she had agreed to do a job for Jackson, to look good on his arm, and she needed to uphold her end of the agreement.
***
“Hello, may I help you?” a matronly woman in a neon suit asked.
“Yes. I need a formal gown for an event tonight.”
“Oh, the Annual New York Donors Ball?”
“Maybe? I’m not sure. My, um, fiancé just told me I needed a dress.” She looked nervously at the thin mannequins draped in silk.
“Your fiancé?” The saleswoman looked at her closely. “You know, you look familiar.”
“I don’t see why. I’ve never shopped here before.”
Recognition lit up the woman’s face. “Oh my goodness! You’re the girl in the magazines. The ones who’s dating Jackson Cantrell!”
Several other shoppers turned to look at her and Holly was suddenly glad she’d opted for a cute outfit of jeans and a silk top with some sturdy pumps instead of the sweatshirt and legging she almost wore. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’d really like some privacy while I shop, if that’s all right. Can I just try on some dresses, please?”
“Oh, yes! Yes, of course!” She smiled, sneaking a glance at Holly’s left hand. “You’re really engaged to Jackson Cantrell?”
Holly blushed, slowly slipping her fingers behind her back. “Yes.”
“You lucky, lucky thing!” She pulled Holly to the dressing rooms and placed her inside the largest one. “You stay right here. I’ll go pull a few outfits for you and make sure no one disturbs you.”
Holly slumped down in the dressing room’s chair, dropping her purse on the floor. Now, the saleswoman knew who she was and that she was engaged to Jackson, not just dating him. She wondered how long it would take for the tabloids to pick up that little detail. No doubt it would soon be on the front cover of those celebrity magazines.
She debated calling her mother to let her in on the news before she heard about it through the tabloids. Her iPhone was heavy in her hand and her thumb hovered over her mom’s contact info. But Holly stopped, remembering her non-disclosure agreement. She was about to call Jackson to ask for advice when the saleswoman swung the door open, a rolling rack full of gowns behind her. As she took in the rows of silk, feathers, sequins, and lace, Holly knew she was in over her head.
She hurriedly scrolled through the contacts in her phone before picking the name she needed the most at that moment. He answered after a single ring. “Daaaahling,” Cosmo crooned. “I have been waiting.”
***
A few minutes before eight, Jackson knocked lightly on Holly’s bedroom door. He prayed there would be no lingering awkwardness from the night before. He had thought about the dejected look on her face all evening and couldn’t bear the thought of making their agreement awkward. But when the door swung open, he was greeted with the overly Botoxed face of the stylist, Cosmo, who was shadowed by a thin woman carrying several bags.
“Ah, the prince is here for the princess,” Cosmo simpered, tossing his long purple scarf over his shoulder. “Daaaahling, she is perfection.”
Jackson swallowed a laughed and nodded somberly. “Thank you for your service. I assume this has been charged to my account?”
“But of course. I’ll let myself out.” Cosmo winked up at him before gliding down the hall.
“Jackson?” Holly’s voice called from inside her walk-in closet.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
She appeared from within and Jackson’s mouth grew dry as he took her in. Holly’s deep green floor-length dress was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a slit that ended high on her thigh. The fabric grazed her legs like liquid and showed just a hint of her gold pumps. Cosmo had given her an evening look with kohl-rimmed eyes and hair that fell in gentle waves over one shoulder.
“You look amazing, Holly. Seriously gorgeous.” Jackson smiled softly at her, trying to ignore the strange lump in his throat.
“Thanks.” She blushed, biting her lip in that innocently erotic way. “About last night, I—”
“Don’t,” Jackson said, placing his hand on her arm. “We don’t need to talk about it. You made a delicious dinner and we both got carried away. Let’s just have a nice night.”
“Okay.”
“And please cheer up. I got you a surprise.”
Holly perked up, instantly back to her peppy self. “A surprise?”
“I can’t let my fiancée go out without any diamonds.”
She held up her hand, flashing her heavy jewel. “But the ring’s right here.”
Jackson reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a red box that said Cartier on the rim. “That one doesn’t count.” He opened the box to display a set of teardrop shaped diamond earrings in a yellow gold setting. Jackson had canceled a lunch meeting to go shopping. He wanted to give her an apology gift, as well as a bonus for agreeing to come that night. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he actually enjoyed spoiling her. “I thought these would match whatever you were wearing. I’m glad I was right.”
“Oh my gosh, Jackson. They’re just too much!”
He frowned. “You don’t like them?”
“I love them. They’re so beautiful. They must have just been so expensive.”
“Just take the earrings,” he commanded, rolling his eyes. “What’s the point of having all this money if I can’t give my fiancée nice things?”
Holly popped out her modest diamond studs and put the new ones in, her fingers lingering on the new additions. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. You look perfect,” Jackson said, taking her left hand in his and raising it to his lips. He meant every word. “I couldn’t imagine a more exquisite date.”
Her cheeks pinked and she didn’t answer, merely touching one of the diamonds. He thought he should say something else, but he didn’t want to overstep the line that he basically leaped over the night before.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked, breaking away from his thoughts.
Holly nodded. “Lead the way,” she told him, flashing a smile up at him as he led her out to the elevator without letting go of her hand.
“Adorable!” Mrs. Klein popped out from the kitchen, a camera in hand. “Let’s just take a moment to get a picture of my favorite couple!”
“Mrs. Klein, his isn’t prom,” Jackson scolded.
The woman harrumphed and took the lens cap off the camera. “This place could use a personal touch, and what better way than to add some nice pictures of you two?”
“Fine.” Jackson checked his watch. “Just a few, then we really have to go. Rick’s waiting for us downstairs.”
“Now, say cheese!” Mrs. Klein aimed her camera at the two of them as they posed for a picture.
***
Holly jittered with excitement when they reached the front of the building. She had never been inside a limo before and now she was taking one to a fancy event with a gorgeous billionaire, while wearing earrings as big as dimes on either side. She fought the urge to take out her cell phone and snap a few pictures. Obviously, Jackson was more than used to the finer things in life and Holly didn’t want to look like a complete country bumpkin. But she did manage one when he wasn’t looking. Her sister would never believe her otherwise.
Jackson opened the door for her and then slid in beside her on the seat. “Too ostentatious?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Holly pushed several buttons, opening a moon roof and turning the radio on and off.
“Haven’t you ever been in a limo before?”
She shook her head, looking out the tinted window at the people on the sidewalks. She had often seen limousines in the city and always wondered what actor or model was riding inside. Now it was her people were curious about. “No. I’ve never had a reason to.”
“Well, there’s always a first time for everything. But I must warn you about tonight.”
“What is it?”
“This is a high-profile event,” he told her, the MoMa rapidly coming into view. “There will be a lot of political powers here and big donors. The media will be out in full force. We’re talking magazines and newspapers.”
Holly bit her lip and looked at him anxiously, wishing she had called her mom earlier like she had planned. “Really?”
He gave her a small smile and took her hand in his, giving it a slight squeeze. “Yes. There are always paparazzi at these kinds of events. But don’t be nervous. Everything’s going to be all right.”
Although his firm hold comforted her, it did little to calm the rapid beating of her heart. “People are starting to spot me all over the city. When I went to buy a dress, the saleswoman recognized me right away as your girlfriend, or fiancée, I guess. She saw the ring.”
Jackson shrugged. “It was going to happen sooner or later. I just feel badly that you’re stuck in the middle of all this. I’m very sorry that I keep dragging you into these things.”
“For a successful businessman, you certainly don’t think things through,” she said, attempting to keep the mood light.
Holly sighed and looked past Jackson at the groups of people huddled outside the museum. As they pulled closer, she could see a red carpet spread out over the several yards to the front door and the flashes of cameras. She was about to walk a real red carpet and hundreds of people were going to take her picture. While many people dreamed of that, Holly was a little terrified. She wasn’t used to walking in heels that high and a small part of her felt as if it was only a matter of time before she fell on her face. But when Jackson reached for her hand, her heart beat even faster. The nervousness dissipated, replaced by a feeling she wasn’t quite ready to name.
“Ready?” he asked as they stopped at the edge of the carpet.
Holly nodded, plastering a smile on her face. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The driver opened the door for Jackson, who helped Holly out of the car. He gripped her hand firmly, securing her to his side as they made their first official public appearance together. The flashes blinded Holly, who fought to keep her smile looking natural and effortless. Although, she thought her face must have actually resembled one of those creepy porcelain dolls her grandmother collected.
She glanced up at Jackson. His face was relaxed, a slight smile playing on his lips. He looked down at her and gave her a small wink as he let go of her hand. Jackson quickly placed it on her lower back, allowing him to lead her through the crowd instead of pulling her behind him.
Holly relaxed as they made their way toward the entrance of the modern glass building. The end of their long entrance was almost in sight and so far, there were no giant disasters or even little slip-ups. At least she wouldn’t be mortified if any of the pictures ended up in the magazines.
The photographers and reporters called Jackson’s name for interview requests and pictures. But then they began to call for her. “Holly! Holly McIntyre! Miss McIntyre, over here! Holly, who are you wearing? Let’s see the ring, Miss McIntyre!”
Holly felt her chest tighten. They knew her name and they knew she was engaged to Jackson. At least, they all believed she was. Now there would be no hiding her identity. Jackson wrapped his arm around her waist as they paused for pictures, leaning into her so there was no space between them.
“Are you all right?” Jackson whispered into her hair, sending a shiver through her body.
“I’m okay. You?”
“Well, I’m great. I have the best looking date here.”
Holly knew he must have been joking, but her cheeks pinked all the same.
The reporters called out to Jackson, pushing against the rope barrier that kept them away from the red carpet. Some questioned his liberal political leanings while others asked if they’d set a date for the wedding. Holly tried to keep a polite smile on her face and let Jackson do all the talking.
He pulled her toward the door, his hand still firmly at her waist. When they entered the building, Holly thought that it didn’t even look like a museum. The spacious lobby was filled with people in long gowns and tuxedos. Dozens of circular tables were spread about the room with large floral centerpieces made up of huge white peonies and neon purple orchids. The tables were set for dinner with crisp white settings and waiters walked around with dainty appetizers for them to snack on. The room was lit with purple and pink lights and a stage was set up on the far end of the lobby with a banner that said ‘New York Donors Association’ on the front.
“Care for a drink?” Jackson asked her, a mischievous look in his icy blue eyes. “Maybe some red wine?”
Holly batted him playfully, trying to hide the sinking embarrassment that settled in her stomach. “Not funny.”
“I disagree. You’re perfectly charming when you’re wasted.”
Her cheeks burned. “I’m serious, Jackson. I don’t know what came over me last night, I ju—”
“Learn to take a joke, McIntyre.” He chuckled. “Now, what would you like to drink?”
“Surprise me. Something girly.”
“All right. Wait for me here. I’ll be right back.” He gave her a final squeeze before detaching himself from her and making his way through the throngs of people.
Holly soon lost track of him in the crowd and stood there at the edge of the lobby watching the elegantly dressed men and women. She tried blending in with the crowd, but felt like she stood out because she was alone. Several people glanced up at her, recognizing her. She tried to look like she was comfortable, but she felt a bit out of place in this group of wealthy socialites. However, it was her job and she would perform it well.
“Holly McIntyre?” a voice inquired behind her.
Holly turned around to face a gorgeous brunette in a hot pink corseted gown. “Yes?”
“So you’re the girl who locked down Jackson?” The woman’s brown eyes narrowed and Holly remembered where she’d seen her before.
“And you’re the girl in the Roberto Cavalli ads!” The model was even more glamorous in person. Holly fought the urge to ask her how she kept her skin so smooth.
“Obviously. So you’re seriously getting married to Jackson?” Her question sounded more like an accusation.
Holly felt her heartbeat quicken and her eyes scanned the crowd for the man in question. “Why do you want to know?”
“I was just curious to see who snapped him up. I can’t believe it’s you.” She sneered, looking her up and down.
Holly couldn’t believe this stranger had the audacity to be so rude. Suddenly feeling brave, she held up her left hand, heavy with the engagement ring. “It would look that way now, wouldn’t it?”
“How could he have chosen you? You’re short, plain, and ridiculously average.”
Holly tried putting on a mask of indifference. She wouldn’t let the nasty woman know that her words cut her. “Okay, so why are you even talking to me?”
“Because this whole thing must be a joke. You’re hardly his type,” the woman purred, her eyes still lowered into dangerous slits.
“I’m apparently more of his type than you are since I’m the one with the ring. Now if you’ll excuse it, it seems that my fiancé is coming back with my drink.” Holly smiled sweetly at the model, who turned and scurried away before Jackson came into full view.
“Hey, Holly,” Jackson said, looking around. “Were you just talking to someone?”
“Some crazy lady who apparently hates my guts.”
He handed her a tall glass filled with ice and amber colored liquid. “Impossible. You’re delightful.”
“Not everyone thinks so,” she mumbled, taking a sip of her beverage. It was a Long Island iced tea—her favorite. “How did you know to get me this?”
“It just seemed like something you’d like. Come meet some of the top suits around here.” He held out his arm for Holly.
She allowed him to lead her around to a dozen different people. They all oozed money and the men leered at her while the women greeted her in a polite, yet aloof manner. Jackson shook hands, talked politics, and Holly was more than thrilled when dinner was announced and they took their seats at the table closest to the stage. Everything was fake—the smiles, the laughter, the nods of the men as they greeted each other. For a moment, she was almost glad her arrangement with Jackson was fake as well.
“Ready to run yet?” Jackson questioned, popping a cherry tomato from his salad into his mouth.
“No, it’s just a little overwhelming,” she said, looking around at the top-tier guests. “I mean, I’m sitting next to Nikki Hilton and there’s a Kennedy at the next table.”
“They always come to these sorts of things. You’ll get used to them sooner or later. They’re people, just like anyone else, just with better summer homes.”
“And a winter home to ski, a place in Paris for the fashion season, and then their regular McMansion in New York,” she grumbled.
Jackson laughed and Holly smiled, pleased she’d gotten the reaction out of him. His deep hearty laugh filled the room like oxygen. It was hard to ignore the effect he had on people. If nothing else, he’d make a persuasive mayor.
Holly fiddled with her napkin and peered about the room, still amazed at where she was. “After dinner can, we take a look around? I’ve always wanted to come here,” she pleaded, itching to run free through the halls.
“Of course we can. When they serve dessert, there’ll be some auction pieces for charity and then we’ll have time to explore.”
Holly smiled her first true smile of the evening, the embarrassment of the night before almost entirely forgotten.
***
As soon as Holly’s tiramisu was served, a man stepped up to the podium on the stage. He introduced the charity as one that catered to all aspects of inner-city life. They funded school rehabilitations, women’s shelters, and scholarships through their events. When he said that each place at the table cost a thousand dollars, Holly nearly choked on her dessert. She knew it was for a good cause, but it was almost staggering to think that these people had so much disposable income. When the auction began, Holly could have fainted.
“Our first piece on the auction block is a romantic private cruise for two to the Caribbean! Bidding begins at thirty thousand dollars,” an announcer called.
“Thirty thousand!” someone shouted.
“Thirty-five!” another yelled.
The bidding rose until it was concluded at eighty-five thousand dollars. A racehorse sold for sixty thousand and a weekend in Paris went for one hundred thousand. Even Jackson got in on the action, buying a set of Super Bowl tickets for an obnoxious price that made Holly gasp. The rest of the bids sold for more than fifty thousand dollars. By the time the auction ended, the charity raised more than five million.
“Is it always like this?” Holly asked as the people around them started taking their checkbooks out.
“I suppose so. We do this maybe two times a year,” he told her, draping his arm around the back of her chair.
“We?”
“Yes. I’m on the board. I help put these things together. Maybe you’d like to be on the planning committee?”
“The planning committee?”
Jackson began running his fingers lightly up and down her bare shoulder and the faint touch made her body hum. “Yes. I thought you were interested in being a big shot event planner?”
“Of course. I always wanted to do something like that on a larger scale. Doing weddings, and little parties, was kind of my thing in Michigan.”
“What about high-end charity events like this?”
“It would be amazing,” she declared, trying to downplay her excitement. “Could I really join the committee?”
“As far as everyone is concerned, you’re the future Mrs. Cantrell and all doors are open to you.” Jackson leaned toward her and murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “Besides, who could ever say no to you?”
She felt her heart flip. “Stop being such a tease.”
“I’m not being a tease, I’m being honest. I could never say no to you.”
“Is that so?” Holly asked, keeping her eyes on the stage where someone was giving a speech. She had to pretend that her boss didn’t affect her and that she had more power over how she was beginning to feel. It was time she tried to control him instead.
“Most definitely. Name anything in the world you want and you’ll have it.”
Holly tried to think of the most ridiculous thing she could. “An original Degas painting.”
“Consider it done,” he said firmly. “What else?”
She laughed. “A first edition signed copy of The Hobbit.”
“A lover of the classics.” He nodded. “You’ll have it within the week. What’s next on your wish list?”
“A private tour of the museum?” she asked hopefully, still dying to see the MoMA in its entirety.
“Too easy. I’ll give you a private tour of every museum in the city. I’ll shut every one of them down, just for you.” He moved closer and Holly could feel his breath against her neck. “Name something else.”
“I can’t think of anything else. I guess I’m happy.”
He stared at her for a second, barely moving. She thought he was going to kiss her. Their real first kiss. The first kiss that they deserved to share.
Holly’s breath grew shallow as Jackson tightened his grip on her arm and began nuzzling his nose in her hair. His breath tickled her throat and when he whispered, “You smell amazing,” Holly almost lost control.
“Jackson, you old dog.” A deep voice interrupted their moment, and Jackson let go of her, much to Holly’s disappointment.
Jackson turned toward the older man after a brief introduction. Holly took this chance to compose herself. There was no use getting all hot and bothered when there was no chance of actually getting close to Jackson. What would be the point anyway? A quick lay, and then the contract would be over. Holly was definitely not that kind of girl. She didn’t do one night stands or sex without a commitment.
The memory of last night flooded back to her and she groaned inwardly. All right, she usually wasn’t that kind of girl. She forced her breathing back to normal and ignored the wetness between her legs that betrayed her for the liar she was.
“I think I owe you a tour now. Still interested?” Jackson asked her once the potential voter had taken his leave.
Holly nodded and allowed him to take her hand. “Do you know your way around?”
“Fairly well,” he told her, leading her to the elevator and up to the next floor. “I thought we’d look at a few exhibits, then end up back down at the sculpture garden.”
“The sculpture garden?”
“Yes. It’s one of my favorite spots. It’s great at night.” There was a twinkle in his eye and it excited Holly. Few men seemed genuinely excited to tour a museum, but Jackson looked as if he’d be there by himself, admiring art in all forms. At the moment, he was looking at her as if she was an exquisite French painting and she fought the glee it caused within her.
“Where are we going first then?” she managed to ask him, trying to draw her attention away from her beating heart.
“The contemporary gallery. It’s the main spot here, so it’ll have the basic pieces you need to see.”
“Are we allowed to just wander around like this?” she asked, noticing how empty the halls were.
“When you’ve donated as much money as I have, you’ll find the staff is willing to be more than agreeable.”
Holly took Jackson’s proffered arm as he led her through several galleries. She had never been to such a large museum and it was a novelty to be shown around by a sophisticated and handsome man like Jackson. Holly watched him out of the corner of her eye as he spoke animatedly. He took the time to explain each painting, sculpture, and installation to her. Although several of the pieces were bizarre, and Holly was fairly sure he made up facts about them, she listened eagerly anyway—ohhhing when appropriate and gasping on cue.
Hand in hand, they made their way through the indoor exhibits and then outside to see the sculpture garden. The excitement flowing through her made Holly feel as though she was soring on a cloud. Nothing could bring her down, especially if Jackson was beside her smelling like expensive cologne and fine scotch. It was almost more intoxicating than the Long Island iced tea she had earlier.
The sculpture garden was a large open space. It was made out of concrete and had an open roof that showed off the night sky. The multicolored lowlighting brought the several strange sculptures into focus. Lush trees and shrubbery surrounded a dark reflection pool and fountain. It seemed that by the time the pair made it back to the first level, the majority of the guests had left, making the low rush of the water the only sound they heard.
Holly felt guilty each time her heel clicked, creating a sharp sound that cut through the silence. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, feeling the need to keep things quiet. There was something mysterious about this place and she wasn’t quite ready to ruin the magic.
“Isn’t it?” He turned her around and enclosed her suddenly in a tight embrace. Her back rubbed against the flat stone of a statue. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”
“Of course.” Holly gradually placed her arms around his neck, bringing up her feelings of embarrassment of the night before when they were almost in this exact position. She looked down, afraid to meet his gaze. He must have been thinking about last night too, but she doubted it was in a positive light. At least, she doubted it until she felt Jackson move.
His hand slid up from her waist to the top of the slit in her dress, grazing the bare skin and giving Holly delicious goose bumps. The familiar feelings of lust in her chest heightened as he brought his face down to her level. She slowly pressed her body into his, giving him more access to her smooth thigh. For a brief moment, she wondered what it would be like to just rip her dress aside and let him push her up against one of the priceless statues, feeling only him and the smooth rock against her naked skin. The thought made her cheeks fill with heat, but didn’t deter her from wanting it all the same.
“I mean it, Holly,” Jackson whispered, his hand drifting dangerously close to her inner thigh. “You didn’t have to agree to all this. You could have stayed in your quiet life just working as my assistant and living in your own apartment. Now I’ve forced you into the spotlight.”
Holly’s head spun, and it wasn’t because of the drinks. “It’s not that bad. Besides, you needed my help.”
“So true. I really did—do need you.”
“I need you too,” she whispered without thinking.
“Do you?” he asked, pushing up her dress slightly and touching her bare hip. “Do you need me?”
Holly felt her knees weaken as she pressed her breasts against his hard chest. “Yes.” Her grip on him tightened as she leaned into his caresses, realizing just what she needed from Jackson.
“How badly do you need me, Holly?” His face was mere inches from her own and his hand explored her exposed skin. “Tell me.”
When Jackson let his free hand cup her breast with a firm grip, Holly groaned, pulling him closer and begging him with her body to touch her more. The feeling of his strong hand through the smooth silk of her dress was driving her insane and she gripped his shoulders tightly, trying to anchor herself to reality. Before she could answer, the sound of people invading the garden broke them apart. A cluster of individuals began milling about the statues, forcing Holly to give up all hope of taking things further.
Jackson backed away from her, his lips tight. “I guess we’re not the only ones who were hoping for a tour. Ready to go home?”
Holly tried to catch her breath while hiding her disappointment. She had never wanted a man so badly in her life.
***
As soon as the limo doors were shut behind them, Jackson closed the partition to the front of the limo, giving them much-needed privacy. He had basically rushed her out of the museum and into the waiting car, longing to get her alone. The way she looked up at him with her brilliant green eyes, her breasts thrusting against his chest and the feeling of her soft skin against his palm, made him want to pull the cloth aside and take her right there in the sculpture garden. When he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties, it was almost too much.
He wasn’t even sure he knew who this little minx was, but Jackson liked this new side of Holly. In fact, he liked all the sides he’d seen of her so far, and that was the problem. When he was around her, he let all of his rules go, giving it to the present.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, his fingers making lazy circles on her exposed thigh. Jackson watched as she bit her lip, leaning into him.
“I did,” she breathed, opening her statuesque legs wider as his hand drifted inward.
He bent toward her and traced her collarbone, nipping at her neck. “I love you in this dress.”
“I love you in your…clothes,” she finished with a giggle. “I’m sorry, my brain isn’t working right now.”
Jackson skimmed her slit, watching as she gasped and clutched his arm. “Then just let go.” He slipped a finger inside her. She was wet, willing, and completely melting in his hand.
When the limo halted to a stop before their apartment building, he placed a kiss on the curve of her neck, feeling her pulse race beneath his lips. He could smell the perfume in her hair—lavender and sage, mesmerizing him. He almost wanted to tell Rick to keep circling the block, but the car was dark and he hated the thought of taking her for the first time on the floor of a company vehicle.
“Here already?” She pouted prettily and pulled her dress back down over her legs.
“It seems so.” His hands fumbled for the knob as he opened the car door into Rick’s stomach in his haste to get home. “Sorry, Rick. You can have the rest of the weekend off.”
Jackson pulled Holly through the lobby, ignoring the many people who stopped to look at the running pair. He hadn’t felt so free in years. It was like a scene from a movie that Jackson had seen with one of his ex-girlfriends. But he’d never understood the need to be with someone like this. Sure, he’d wanted women before, but he’d never needed one. Until he’d hired one.
As soon as the private elevator doors were closed behind them, he pushed Holly against the wall, covering her mouth with his. He lifted her bare left up, wrapping it around his waist, before he slid his hand from knee to hip, enjoying the smooth, toned skin bursting to life under his touch.
When Jackson unlocked the front door, letting them inside the apartment, he was ready to forget everything and just be with Holly. He’d worry about the consequences later if he could just…
Ursula was sitting on the couch watching a movie. She turned toward them with a smile. “My bébés. How was your evening?”
Jackson shifted nervously, attempting to hide the bulge in his pants. “Mother, what are you doing here?”
“The people at the hotel, they do not listen. I say I need fresh pressed cappuccino, and then they give me regular coffee. I pay for perfection I expect perfection,” Ursula said with a wave of her hand. “You cannot trust Americans to make a decent cappuccino.”
“So you came here for a cappuccino?” Jackson asked dryly.
“No, no, no. I came to stay. I had my bags delivered and set up in one of the guest rooms. I thought you wouldn’t mind,” Ursula said.
“Of course not. Make yourself at home.” Jackson smiled at his mother and took Holly’s hand. “We’re off to bed, we’ve had a long night.”
“All right, bonne nuit. See you in the morning. I’ve made reservations for eleven.” She turned back to the television, leaving Jackson and Holly to themselves.
Jackson ran his free hand through his hair and led Holly into his bedroom, all thoughts of sex forgotten with the sudden appearance of his mother. “You need to stay in here.”
Holly reddened. “In here? With you? In your room?”
“It would look suspicious if we stayed in separate rooms,” he told her, taking off his suit jacket and tie.
“Maybe she wouldn’t notice. Maybe she would think we were being traditional.”
“My mother isn’t stupid. She assumes that if we live together, we sleep in the same bed.” He smiled, trying to calm her. He hated the thought of making her uncomfortable. “Don’t worry, though. My bed is large enough that you could completely sprawl out and not even graze me.”
“But what about my pajamas and toothbrush?”
Jackson went into his walk-in closet and returned with a large white shirt. He debated giving a pair of his pajama pants, but came to the conclusion that they would be too big to stay on her slim hips. Or at least that’s what he told himself. “You can wear this to bed tonight and there are new toothbrushes in the bathroom closet. I’ll have Mrs. Klein move all of your things in here tomorrow while we’re out.”
He watched her as she went into the bathroom, caught up in the gentle sway of her silk-covered ass. Jackson grimaced, wishing he had just circled the goddamn block.
***
Holly took the shirt wordlessly and entered the spacious marble bathroom. She peeled off her dress and put the shirt on, wishing she had worn underwear. Now, she would be completely exposed in bed. Not that the lack of underthings had been something negative a few minutes ago.
Brushing the impure thought away, she tried to focus on getting to bed. Using some body wash she found in the shower, she took off her makeup. Then she brushed her teeth with a new toothbrush. Nervously, she looked at herself in the mirror, noting that the shirt thankfully came down low on her thighs and the v-neckline of the shirt was not low enough for any accidental slips to occur. She tried not to think about the fact that she was about to get into bed with her boss.
It was very risqué, no matter how innocent he made it sound, but even more ridiculous when she considered what almost just happened. Who decided it was more intimate to sleep next to a man than it was to sleep with a man? Things seemed pretty backward, but Holly couldn’t shake her nerves all the same.
She took her engagement ring off and placed it on the marble top counter next to a flashy watch of Jackson’s. She had tried to sleep with the ring on before, but her hair kept getting snagged in the golden setting.
Jackson knocked on the door. “You all right in there?”
“Yes, you can come in. I’m finished.”
“No rush. You can go ahead and get into bed while I brush my teeth.” He entered the bathroom dressed only in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his sculpted hips. Not half an hour ago, she’d felt those muscles under his tux and had wished for skin to skin contact. Now, she was almost embarrassed to look. Again, backward. She needed to get a grip.
Holly squeezed past him, holding the shirt down as she hurried to the bed. She slipped between the sheets and felt her body sink into the mattress. Jackson was right; his bed was huge, and as long as they stayed on their own sides of the bed, they would never touch. Although Holly was not exactly sure whether that was a good thing or not.
Being in Jackson’s bed made her heart race. She had been staying in his apartment, but this was the first time she was truly in his personal space. She was wearing his soft cotton shirt, sitting in his bed, smelling of his body wash, and still feeling flushed and aroused from their earlier interactions.
Holly scanned the room. Much like the rest of the house, it was furnished in a rich, classical style with a brocade comforter and fine art framed on the wall. The only pieces of personal memorabilia were an encased baseball on the mantle of his fireplace and a framed picture of him and his mother with the president. Everything else was uniformed and anonymous—completely unreadable, just like Jackson.
***
Jackson clutched the edges of the sink, trying to control his breathing. Holly was waiting for him in his bed and wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He imagined her long, smooth legs curled under his down comforter and her luscious hair spread over his pillows. The familiar stirring deep in his groin at the thought of Holly made him almost angry. She was the one woman he desired, but the one woman he should stay away from. She was his assistant and he’d hired her to act like his fiancée. He couldn’t take advantage of her sweet innocence when he knew that he could never offer her true married life or his undivided attention like she deserved. This entire situation was built on a lie and he could not take the chance of growing too close to her. She was better than that.
Before he entered the bedroom, he splashed some ice-cold water on his face to cool his heated libido. It helped slightly, but he was still glad that a lamp on the nightstand only dimly lit the room now. Holly was sitting up against his headboard, biting her lip in that deliciously nervous way. He could tell she was anxious and he hated that he placed her in this compromising situation, but in a small way he was grateful that she was there.
“Do you need anything?” Jackson asked as he slipped in bed beside her. More than two feet separated them, but he could still feel the sharp electricity flowing through the covers. How in the hell was he going to sleep tonight?
“No, I’m fine.” Her voice was soft and she glanced at him warily as she lay down and settled herself on the pillows.
“I told you my bed was large enough for the both of us,” he teased. “You can pretend I’m not even here.”
She turned on her side to face him and he could see the curve of her breast in the neckline of the shirt she wore. He fought the urge to reach out and touch her.
“I had a nice time tonight,” she said, but it didn’t break him out of his spell.
“Me too. You’re not a bad date,” he muttered, trying to move his gaze from her chest. He did not want to be a lecherous man, but he could not help himself. He slowly inched toward her, pretending he was merely adjusting his pillows.
“You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Cantrell.” She brushed a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “Have you figured out what happens when this is done?”
“What do you mean?”
She bit her lip and paused before answering. “When all this pretending is over? I’m in the public eye now and I can’t think of a clean way out.”
Her question felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head. He hadn’t really thought about what would happen when she was no longer his fake fiancée. In fact, he hadn’t really thought much about what would happen from one day to the next. And he certainly couldn’t think about it with her so close to him now.
Instead of answering, Jackson took the time to study her face—the clean line of her nose, her bright green eyes that seemed illuminated in the sparse light. Holly looked better without makeup, fresher and cleaner. She was so much different than the girls he was used to, with their caked-on makeup and constant diets.
He hated waking up alone in bed as some model ran off to the gym, an actress rushed off to an early audition, or an heiress talked down to sweet Mrs. Klein about how she could only eat organic fruit. He liked knowing that Holly was going to be waking up with him every morning for the foreseeable future—at least in the same apartment, if not the same bed.
Even after a short week together, Jackson was already used to having her as a constant figure in his life. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to let her go after the election, but he knew he had to. Jackson wasn’t anywhere close to being ready to settle down and Holly was the marrying kind—the bang her till she’s sore kind, but still the marrying kind.
“I’m not sure,” he replied honestly. “It isn’t something that we can plan for anymore.”
“Well, it’s not like we can just live like this forever,” Holly whispered. “We can’t stop the truth from coming out.”
Jackson sighed and turned on his back, facing the ceiling. “I know. I just don’t know what to do. With the election, I let myself get talked into playing the part of a family man while, when it comes to my mother, I just wanted her to be happy and really support my political aspirations.”
“Have you talked to her about this?”
“Yes, but she just won’t listen. She ignores everything I say about it and completely blows me off. She grew up in a poor Romany Gypsy family and knows what true poverty is like. While politicians have money, it’s the businessmen that make money. She never wants me to be without. But you being here has warmed her up to the idea of the company taking a backseat.”
Holly sat up in bed, untangled herself from the bedding and leaned toward him on a raised elbow. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders and her plump lips parted as she seemed to study him. “Us pretending to be engaged won’t make her change her mind entirely, but I understand what you’re trying to do. I’ll even talk to her about it, if you want me to.”
“You will?” Jackson sat up in bed. His sudden movement forced them to be so close to each other they could almost kiss.
“Of course. Don’t you get it, Jackson? I just want to help you.”
“How did I get so lucky to get such an amazing fiancée?” he asked her jokingly. He hated to end the night on a somber note, no matter how dark he was feeling on the inside.
“What can I say? I love a man in an expensive Italian suit with an American Express Black Card,” she shot back with a grin.
Jackson laughed and placed a hand gently on the side of her face, cupping her soft cheek in his palm. “I mean it, Holly. I really couldn’t do any of this without you. No one’s ever tried to help me so much. Thank you.”
Holly’s cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson and Jackson could almost feel the heat radiating off her flawless skin. She averted her eyes before speaking. “Of course. What are personal assistants for?”
“Let’s get some rest. It’s the middle of the night and we need to be up early to wine and dine my mother.”
She smiled and slid back under the covers. “You’re right,” she said with a delicate yawn. “Goodnight, Jackson.”
“Goodnight, Holly,” he whispered, turning out the light.