Chapter Eleven
Jake was about to head to the small airport for private planes when he got a text from Josh that Claire wanted to see him again, same place, tonight. He puzzled over that. Why? What more was there to say? She saw no future with him, that much was clear, even after he’d told her he felt something real. The conversation had been at times painful, at times almost stimulating. He sensed more fire in her than the shy Jenny had, and his own natural competitiveness liked the challenge of sparring with her. He’d toyed with the idea of telling her who he was, but he stubbornly wanted her to want him for himself, not the shine to his gold-plated name. He’d been himself on those dates, except for the gentleman thing and the few times he’d been forced to come up with a Josh-like explanation for why he went on the blind date in the first place.
Josh texted again. We got trouble. There was a link too.
He clicked on it to find Claire splashed across a tabloid in disguise, not the Jenny disguise, one with short black hair as she walked with a tight crowd of people around her. The headline said Meeting with her bartender lover! Mia and Damon on the rocks!
Weird. It was like the press didn’t make a distinction between the real person and the character she played. Another text popped up from Josh.
Some reporters showed up at work. Gonna lie low for a few days as soon as my shift’s done.
Shit. The press must’ve tracked down Josh, trying to get info out of him. His twin didn’t do well with aggressive people. His combat training kicked in, making him act first, ask questions later. They all knew better than to sneak up behind him.
Sorry, I’ll see what I can do, Jake texted back.
His mind kept circling back to how the press knew any of this. He hadn’t said a word. Josh sure as hell wouldn’t. Who else knew? Ty. But his brother wasn’t a snitch. Maybe it was Claire’s preemptive move to control the message. He did some searching online, but none of the articles were complimentary. They made her sound like she was too good for them, playing at being what she thought of as a regular girl. A princess among the peasants. There were even pictures supposedly of Claire as Jenny. They were of a very homely woman with the headline: “Next Oscar-winning performance?”
No way a publicist would let the message be so negative. Claire must have a leak somewhere with someone close to her, someone looking to get back at her, maybe, or just earn a little side cash.
That night he was escorted by her huge bodyguard once again through the door of the private lounge. Claire leaped up and marched toward him, the fire in her eyes igniting an animal response that he tried to tamp down. He’d liked Jenny. But this woman, coming at him fired up and crazy sexy, on top of what they had before, was giving him all kinds of wicked ideas. There were layers to her, a complexity that fascinated him, and a passionate nature that he wanted to delve into deep.
She stopped in front of him, cheeks flushed pink, hazel eyes flashing. Her white V-neck shirt exposed cleavage that he well remembered tasting. Hot and sweet. Her jeans hugged her body and those black heels needed to stay while he peeled her out of the unnecessary items. He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t touch.
“How much to shut you up?” she snapped.
He considered how to move things to where he wanted. Defuse the situation and reignite a different scenario.
She snapped her fingers in his face. “Well?”
He pushed her hand out of his face. “I told you I wouldn’t say anything. Why do you assume it was me?”
She narrowed her hazel eyes suspiciously. They were pretty, green and gold with a ring of deep blue. He liked her hazel eyes better than the bright green. Her hair was shoulder length and dark brown. He liked her blonde better. He’d found a picture of her in that spiked bikini and she had short spiky blond hair in it, looking all badass. This color made her look too pale in contrast.
“Josh! Are you high? Where are you?”
He forced himself to focus. “What?”
“I said you are the only one with good motive.”
“Sorry, Claire Jordan, you’ll have to find someone else to blame. My word is gold.” He liked to use her full name because it tickled him to know her true identity after pining over the fictional Jenny. He saw now that the name held her back. She was flipping out over some tabloid headlines. He was sure she must get that all the time. It was up to her to move out from behind that name and take a chance on him.
“Would you stop calling me Claire Jordan? It’s just Claire.”
“Okay, Just Claire.”
She made a growling noise in the back of her throat that made him rock hard. He understood a little better how much fun Josh must have riling up Hailey. He turned away, heading toward the bar on the far side of the room, hoping there was something there to take the edge off. He wasn’t so good at playing the gentleman when he wanted something. And he wanted Claire with a fierceness way beyond Jenny, which had already been damn intense. This woman had him by the balls, though she didn’t know it. He’d like to keep it that way.
He headed behind the bar and found an excellent merlot. He held it up. “Wine?”
“No!” She marched over to the bar and stood on the other side from him. “We’re not here to party.”
He unscrewed the cork and poured himself a glass. He could hear her doing some deep breathing over there, trying to get herself under control. He’d like to get her under control too, under him. He took a sip of the wine, pretending a casualness he was far from feeling.
She slapped a hand on the bar top to get his attention. She’d never lost his attention. He was hyperaware of her, every sense tuned in, from her heaving breasts to her flushed cheeks and neck, to that throaty, husky voice that even in anger turned him on. She didn’t smell like vanilla and sugar today. She smelled like roses and something distinctly Claire, a tangy spiciness. Some perfume for her role in the movie? Didn’t matter. He wanted to kiss and lick and suck every inch of her.
“Yes?” he drawled. “You have my undivided attention.”
She pursed her full lips, making his pants even tighter. “I heard the press was all over you today. Did they bring a lot of publicity to your bar?”
He set his glass down. “I don’t even own that bar.” It bugged him that Josh had to lie low on account of whoever wanted something out of Claire. “I told you it wasn’t me. Do you need it in blood?”
She narrowed her eyes. “It had to be you. How much?”
“I don’t need your damn money.”
“It always comes down to money. How much? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand?” She crossed her arms. “That’s my final offer, you greedy, lying, conniving jerk!”
Jake lost it. “Do you know who I am?” he roared.
She startled.
He jammed a hand through his hair. “No, of course you don’t,” he said in a low voice. He took a deep breath. “I’m Jake Campbell, CEO of Dat Cloud. I took Josh’s place on the blind date because he wanted to go out with someone as me to teach her a lesson, and I wanted the sweet small-town girl date. I was sick of glamorous superficial types.” He placed both palms on the bar top and leaned in to make sure she heard this next part because she was just as much to blame for this mess as he was. “I was looking for something real.”
She staggered back. “We were both in disguise.” She slowly shook her head. “Wait, who was Josh teaching a lesson?”
“Who do you think? Hailey. The woman he loves to bug.”
“Does Hailey know?”
“No.”
“She will now.”
“She should know.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “So I’m the glamorous superficial type you’re sick of.” She laughed and then she couldn’t seem to stop, laughing until she was bent over with it, hugging her stomach.
“I don’t see what’s so damn funny.”
She straightened and wiped her eyes. “You’re the egocentric wealthy manwhore I was sick of.”
“I’m not an egocentric manwhore.” He couldn’t exactly deny the wealthy part.
“You slept with me on the first date.”
“So did you. Next?”
“I still think you’re egocentric.”
He crossed his arms. “And what makes you think that?”
She puffed out her chest and strutted in front of him. “Do you know who I am? I’m Jake fucking Campbell, CEO of Dot Cloud!”
He narrowed his eyes. “Dat Cloud.” And he did not sound like that.
She stopped and gave him a knowing look. “That right there says I am more important than everyone around me.” She gestured to nonexistent people around them.
“I don’t see you turning down the lifestyle.”
She lifted her chin. “Check and mate.”
He blew out a breath. “Look, it wasn’t me who talked to the press. Someone else ratted you out. And what’s the big deal anyway? You must make headlines regularly.”
“The big deal is the Fierce trilogy. The fans love stories about Mia and Damon being a real thing.”
“But it’s not. Wait, is it?”
“No. But it gives us a lot of free press. We need that.”
“So you go out with Blake on fake dates for real press?”
She sank heavily to a bar stool. “It’s not…we just show up at places together and let the press make of that what they will. I’m lucky he’s already getting out ahead of the story. We’re going out on Saturday to the premiere of a Broadway show and the after party. That should help. But I can’t have any more stories about me sneaking around with another guy.”
“I still don’t see why you have to sneak around at all. Can’t people differentiate between fact and fiction?”
“It’s just buzz. You wouldn’t understand.” She chewed on her lower lip. He remembered how soft her lips were, her taste, the heat that ignited between them.
“Well, it seems you have a leak somewhere. You need to focus on that.” He tapped the bar in front of her. “I have nothing to gain by telling people you went out with my brother, which you didn’t even do.”
She waved that away. “It’s a closed set. I vetted everyone personally.” She paused. “Except Ty. He was a last minute addition. And he’s the one who passed along your little mystery message.”
“It’s not him. Who else wants to spill your secrets?”
“Everyone! That’s how they make their money, selling secrets to tabloids.”
“Okay. Who else knows you were Jenny?”
“Just the book club, you, and I guess your twin.” She shook her head. “When I saw you both sitting there, identical, I still knew which one was you.”
“How did you know?” he asked quietly. That meant something to him. That meant she saw who he really was on the inside.
She looked off in the distance dreamily. “And when you walked in here last night. Something about your walk, your attitude was different. You weren’t pretending anymore.”
He stepped around the bar and went to her side. “No, I wasn’t. And besides a few white lies to explain why I went on a blind date, I’ve been myself this whole time.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “No. You’re definitely different now.”
“Different how?”
“You’re not sweet and charming. You’re aggressive.”
He gave her his best charming smile. “Nah. I’m still sweet and charming.”
Her lips twitched. “I’m afraid not.”
He raised his palms. “I was instructed to act the gentleman.”
Her eyes sparkled merrily. “You’re not a gentleman. That must’ve been hard for you.”
She didn’t seem to mind all that much. He couldn’t resist touching her, pushing a lock of hair back behind her ear. “So you’re not sweet and shy, and I’m not a gentleman. We still did okay in the bedroom.”
“Okay?” She pulled away. “Neither of us is who we were then, and I don’t exactly trust you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you lied about who you were.”
“So did you. What else you got? Let’s knock down all these barriers.” He chopped at the air.
She shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Yeah, she wanted him. “Because men always want to sleep with Claire Jordan, and they get a lot more mileage out of that than I do.”
He bit back an inappropriate suggestion of how he’d get mileage out of riding her like a beast and went for a last-ditch attempt at the gentleman thing that had worked so well when he charmed the pants off her.
Nothing came to him.
“Why did you want a gentleman so much anyway?” he asked.
“Because I never get it.”
He wasn’t convinced that was really what she wanted. Someone as fiery as she was would lose interest in that kind of restrained chivalry fast. The urge to pull her into his arms, slide a hand into her hair, her real hair, and claim that luscious mouth made him take a step back. If he read between the lines, she was explaining very well why she’d sought out a date with gentleman Josh—every guy came on strong with her. He had to tame his natural impulse to do the same.
She leaned against the bar. “Now that I think about it, anyone who was on set when Ty passed along your message would know I was on a date with Josh.” She shot him a dark look. “Thanks for that. You couldn’t have gone through Hailey?”
He’d been in shock. Mooning over someone who didn’t exist. And wanting her back.
He went on the offense. “How else was I going to talk to you? You wouldn’t give me your number. I couldn’t exactly stroll past your he-man bodyguard onto a movie set.” He splayed his fingers, framing her name in the air and said with a voice dripping with sarcastic reverence, “You’re Claire Jordan.”
“Why couldn’t I have gotten the real Josh?” she shouted, hands on her hips. “He was book-club approved, not you.”
Oh, it is on. He stepped closer, all up in her personal space, the hell with the gentleman crap. “Why couldn’t I have gotten the real Jenny?”
Her eyes flashed. “Because she was a lie!”
He got in her face. “She was everything I wanted.” Until I found you.
Her breath was coming faster now. She licked her lips.
And that was a go. Millimeters apart, he stared at her mouth.
Her voice came out soft. “You are everything I despise.”
They slammed together, mouths fused, bodies in full contact from chest to aching groin. He gripped her hair and took over the kiss, sweeping his tongue inside, her taste the spicy sweetness he remembered. He slid his other hand to cup her ass, pressing her where he needed her. But he needed so much more than that.
She pushed on his chest. He lifted his head and met her eyes, dilated and full of desire just like that first night they were together. This had always been real.
“Stop,” she said in a breathy voice. “We need to stop.”
He stared at her mouth. Impossible. He needed her like his next breath. His brain wasn’t working well enough to coax her, but then he didn’t have to.
She grabbed his head and kissed him again. That worked. He lifted her, still kissing her, and carried her to the table. He set her on the edge, pushed her legs apart, and stood between them, kissing his way down her throat while his hands slid under her shirt.
“Wait,” she said, pushing his hands away. “I can’t—”
He nipped her earlobe. “You can.”
“Not here.”
He kissed her neck and then sucked. She smacked his shoulder frantically.
He lifted his head, dizzy with lust. “What’s wrong?”
“You can’t leave a mark on me. It won’t work for the movie.”
He stroked the rapidly beating pulse of her throat. “Okay, I remember now. No marks. Where can we go?”
“Jake,” she said. He loved hearing his real name. Loved it so much he didn’t notice at first she was shifting away from him.
He grabbed her by the hips and slid her back up against him. She groaned when they made contact.
“I can’t do this with you,” she said, leaning back on her hands like she was trying to keep them to herself.
He let go of her hips. “I never betrayed you. I wouldn’t. Who else knows you went out as Jenny? Find that person and then you’ll see.”
She bit her lower lip. “The book club knows. But they’re the best friends I have. It couldn’t be them, could it? Dammit. This is why I can’t have real relationships. I can’t trust anyone.”
“You can trust me.”
She sighed. “I don’t even know you.”
“Get to know me.”
“Jake…” She looked away.
“One date, the real deal. Jake and Claire.”
She was tempted. He could tell. She didn’t give him a no right away and now she was searching his face, looking for the truth. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, coaxing. He pulled back and met her eyes, fully prepared to do this all night if he had to. Coaxing, charming, easing his way in. He’d thought coaxing would be too difficult with the way he wanted her, but having her pull away was much harder.
She spoke quietly. “You don’t want that kind of spotlight on you. It’s not pretty.”
It wasn’t a no.
“I want you, and whatever comes with it, I don’t care.” He cradled her face with both hands. “I want Claire.”
She closed her eyes, and he dropped his hands to her shoulders, sliding them down the satiny smooth skin of her arms to her hands. He took her hands from behind her and pulled them forward, just holding them. She didn’t pull away. He sensed she was leaning toward letting him in.
Finally she spoke, the words filling him with elation. “We’d have to keep it quiet.”
Not that he wanted to keep it quiet. He just wanted to be with her so much he was willing to play the game her way. For now. He kissed her softly and spoke against her lips. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” She shoved him away. “Now stop kissing me. One date. Jake and Claire.”
“Why do I have to stop kissing you?”
“Because you want to get to know me, remember?”
“I can get to know your body first. Get reacquainted.”
She laughed. “Yeah. I’ve heard that one before.”
He figured she probably did. Everyone wanted the sexiest woman alive. He’d seen the magazine giving her that honor and her bikini body splashed everywhere. He knew that kind of attention didn’t always bring out the best in people, and he realized he had to stand out from the pack.
He stepped back and helped her off the table.
“Such a gentleman,” she teased.
“It’s all an illusion,” he replied, not bothering to hide the edge of unsatisfied lust in his voice.
“Story of my life,” she said breezily. “I’ll text Hailey to let you know when I’m free.”
“At least give me your number now that we’ve established how much you lust for me.” She laughed, and he grinned. “I’d like to stop going through other people.” He pulled his cell from his pocket, punched in the code, and handed it over.
She typed her number in while saying, “I never give this number to anyone. Only a handful of people have it on a need-to-know basis. Can you handle that kind of responsibility?”
“What do you think?” It was an honor and, hell, he’d earned it with all his restraint.
She met his eyes, fire back in hers. “I hope so. I swear I will hunt you down—”
He cut her off with a kiss. Not a gentle one. The kind that said he’d be taking what he wanted and she’d damn well like it. She sagged against him.
When he was good and ready, he broke the kiss and snagged his cell from her limp hand. “Later, Claire Jordan.”
She fought back a smile and then beamed a big one at him, stunningly beautiful in her well-kissed, hot-for-him state. “Later, Jake Campbell.”
He grinned and headed out the door. Now that was more like it.