Eight

Jay was drenched by the time he returned to the motel. His hands were filled with plastic bags so he kicked the door with his foot. The curtain covering the big window moved and a bright light beamed out at him, making him squint. “Open up, Bridgett.”

She held the door steady against the wind as Jay hustled inside the now-dark room. Bridgett shined the flashlight on her phone in a wide arc around the room. “Please tell me you got a flashlight or some candles. My cell is about to die and there’s no sign of Jagdish,” she said.

“There are both in here.” He dropped the bags onto the dresser and went in search of the towel to wipe off his wet face and head. Water squished in his shoes with every step. Bridgett’s light followed him as he peeled off his sodden raincoat.

“You’re soaked.”

His stepped out of his shoes before pulling off his suit jacket. “Your parents must be proud of that Harvard education.”

With a huff, she redirected her light back to the dresser. As she rummaged through the bags of supplies, he peeled off his pants that were wet from the calf down.

“Hey!” The beam was shining back on him again. “What are you doing?”

“I’m soaked, remember, Captain Obvious? I’m gonna take a shower.”

“In the dark?”

“No, you’re going to hand me one of those nauseatingly pumpkin-scented candles and a box of matches first.”

The light was obscuring her face, but Jay was sure her eyes were narrowed in annoyance while a sweet pink blush stained her cheeks. He longed to invite her to join him in the shower, but after his admission earlier today, Jay knew he had to tread lightly. He’d win her over eventually; of that he had no doubt. Just not tonight, unfortunately.

She handed him one of the stocky candles and a box of matches. “If you don’t like pumpkin, why did you get them?”

Because they were the only damn candles left in the store. “They didn’t have mango,” he said instead, making his way into the darkened bathroom before he changed his mind and dragged her in with him.

Ten minutes later he emerged from his steamy shower dressed in a T-shirt and his boxer briefs. The room was aglow with the many votives he’d bought. The place smelled like Thanksgiving Day probably did in most of the homes across the country. Bridgett was seated Indian-style on one of the beds, a blanket spread over her lap as her fingers tapped out notes on her tablet. When she looked up, her eyes held a look of profound anguish.

“Hey,” he said, sitting on the bed opposite hers, tamping down the impulse to reach for her hand. “We’re safe here. The storm should burn out in a couple of hours.”

She waved a hand. “I know that. It’s just I’ve had a bit of a family emergency come up and I need to get home. To Boston.”

“Nothing life-threatening, I hope.”

“Not unless my sister goes all Lorena Bobbitt on her husband, no.” She grimaced. “Gwen’s husband has been cheating on her. She wants to divorce—she’s going to divorce him—she’s just not used to being on her own.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

Bridgett laughed. “Yeah, kind of funny since she’s the one who made me cry the other day.”

“Why?”

She shook her head, the brief glimpse behind the cool veneer she kept in place closed. Instead she gestured to his pants, which she’d hung over a chair. “They’re still damp at the cuffs but I squeezed as much of the water out as I could. You may have to roll them up at the ankles.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Worried you might not be able to keep your hands off me without my pants on?”

Her blush was obvious even in the candlelight as she quickly stood and walked over to the dresser filled with the food he’d brought back—a can of potato chips, peanut butter crackers, two apples, and the necessity of women everywhere: a bag of Dove chocolate. He’d also grabbed a couple bottles of water, a bottle of chardonnay, toothpaste, and two toothbrushes. The wine wasn’t the best vintage, but he knew they’d both appreciate something a little stronger than water right about now.

“Thanks for leaving the roller food at the gas station, but you forgot the corkscrew.”

She kept her back to him as he pulled on his pants. He stepped behind her, reached past her shoulder into his briefcase, and pulled out his pocket knife. Bridgett’s breath caught as his arm brushed over hers. When he clicked a button on the bottom, a corkscrew emerged. Jay handed it to her and went into the bathroom to grab the two plastic cups.

“I should have known,” she said as she worked the screw into the cork. “You never went anywhere without one that summer. Frankly, I’m surprised you went into the dot-com industry and not the wine business like you’d planned.”

“Who says I didn’t,” he asked, taking the bottle from her and finishing the job.

Bridgett held the glasses while he poured. “I guess there’s a lot about each other we’ll never know.”

Her words sounded almost wistful and the warm wine went down rough as Jay swallowed. “Even without being chilled, our chardonnay is definitely better than this.”

She sat on the bed, leaning on one arm as she sipped from her cup with the other. “So tell me, how did the guy who wanted to rule the world one bottle of wine at a time end up establishing a major dot-com business instead?”

“There’s a lot more money to be made on the Internet than in the vineyards.” He sat down on the bed across from her, leaning up against the headboard and crossing his feet at the ankles.

“But wine was your passion.”

Jay eyed her over the rim of his cup. “I’ve learned that it’s not always a good idea to be ruled by passion.”

Bridgett kept her gaze level with his. “Exactly what I’ve been telling you all along.”

“I didn’t say I gave up on passion, Bridgett. I’ll never do that.”

That got the reaction he was hoping for as she gulped the remainder of her wine and began prying open a package of peanut butter crackers. “With Lloyd Davis as a stepfather, money shouldn’t have been an object.”

“Lloyd’s money was Lloyd’s money. And now it’s Charlie’s.” He took another swallow of wine. Everyone always thought Jay should be resentful of the situation, but he wasn’t anymore. Perhaps that was the best gift Lloyd had given him: the anger to become a self-made man. Now that he’d accomplished that, the bitterness toward his stepfather had faded.

“She doesn’t seem at all like the little girl you described that summer.”

Jay snorted. “That little girl died when her father did.”

“Your mother . . . is she . . . is? I mean, the tabloids never mention her.”

He reached over and took one of her crackers. “My mother is not very maternal. She’s the smartest person I know, which begs the question of why the hell she had kids in the first place.” He shrugged. “When she’s not in the lab or some ivory tower, she’s really very kind, just distracted. She loves Charlie; they’re just from two different universes.”

“And you?” Bridgett asked softly. “Does your mother love you?”

“Yeah. But after my father died, her work became her one true love. She only married Lloyd so I’d have some sort of father figure in my life.” Too bad Lloyd never saw Jay as anything but a protégé to be molded, and not a boy who made mistakes.

“But you and Charlie are still close?”

Jay blew out a breath. “Well, there have been many times when she’s made me mad as hell.” He winked at Bridgett. “But she’s never made me cry.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yet.”

He laughed then as his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

“Hey, boss,” Linc said. “Can you talk?”

Jay glanced over at Bridgett. There was so much he wanted to tell her, share with her. But he knew better. He was better off keeping his own confidences.

He moved to get off the bed, but Bridgett rose instead.

“I’m going to take a bath,” she said as she refilled her wineglass and snatched up the bag of chocolates.

“Yeah,” Jay said after he’d heard the lock click on the bathroom door. “What do you have?”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

Jay was only half paying attention as he heard the water begin to run and his body reacted to his mental picture of Bridgett stripping out of her clothes by candlelight. He relaxed against the headboard, imagining himself in the small bathroom with her pressed up against him. He’d peel her panties off her and then begin exploring every inch of her with his hands and his mouth.

“Are you listening, boss? She’s gone. Princess Charlotte has flown the coop.”

•   •   •

When Bridgett emerged from her bath, Jay was agitated and aloof, furiously texting from his phone and then his tablet when his phone died. Gone was the quiet intimacy they’d shared over the crackers and wine. Bridgett should have been relieved. Except she wasn’t. If he’d noticed she’d slipped into the dress shirt he’d left in the bathroom, he didn’t mention it. On edge from the overwhelming events of the day, she’d eventually drifted off to a fitful sleep, cocooned in Jay’s warm scent.

The storm let up sometime in the middle of the night. The lights suddenly flashed back on at four eighteen the next morning, startling both of them from restless sleep. Jay wasted no time arranging for a car to retrieve them from the motel and take them back to the airfield. When they boarded the plane at six thirty A.M., hot tea, fruit, and pastries were waiting in the small galley. The majority of the town was recovering from the storm, but Jay had managed to make sure she was comfortable. Again.

“It should be a much smoother ride this morning,” the pilot told them as they took their seats. “We’ll be wheels down in Boston by nine.”

“Boston?” Bridgett asked as the pilot closed the cockpit door.

Jay looked up from the text he was frantically typing. “You said last night that you needed to be in Boston.” One of his eyebrows went up questioningly. “Has something changed?”

Nothing had changed. Gwen had been sending out dire distress texts and e-mails all night. Once the power had returned, Bridgett had responded for her to sit tight, she’d be there by dinnertime. Now it seemed she’d be in Boston in time to make sure Gwen didn’t off anyone in the carpool line.

She shook her head. “But what about our noon deadline with Ms. Warren?”

“Call her at eleven fifty-nine and tell her we’ll see her in court.”

While she’d been all in on that strategy yesterday, Bridgett had some qualms this morning. “And if she decides on a media smear campaign?”

“I can handle it.”

“And if it’s not just you she’s attacking?”

He looked at her then, his blue eyes weary and tinged with what looked like concern. Bridgett’s insides twitched at the sexy, rumpled Jay before her. Stubble outlined his jaw and he hadn’t bothered to button up his shirt or put on a tie. He looked approachable and lovable. And she suddenly wanted to be back in that motel room with him, and she realized now why she’d been on edge all night: She wanted him. This man who had destroyed her heart still had the power to make her body sing.

“I gave you my word that I’d protect your secret. At least give me a chance to honor it.”

She wanted to trust him. Bridgett ached to turn the clock back thirteen years and have him beside her in that hospital room. To have it all turn out differently. She didn’t realize she was crying until he reached over and gently wiped a tear off her cheek. “I miss the two people we used to be,” she whispered.

His hand found its way behind her neck and he pulled her toward him. Her lips met his without hesitation and she heard his soft groan of pleasure as her tongue tangled with his. Jay allowed her a minute to play before he took control of the kiss, possessing her mouth until every part of her ached for release. He was unbuckling his seat belt and moving to the seat next to hers when the plane began to taxi down the runway.

“This would have been much easier in the motel room, but I like your sense of adventure, Bridgett,” he murmured against her ear.

She wasn’t sure whether it was adventure, exhaustion, or simple frustration, but Bridgett didn’t complain when his mouth found hers again. Leaning the seat back, he lifted up the wide armrest and pulled her body next to his. Her fingers threaded through his thick hair when his mouth drifted lower. His hand slid beneath the waistband of her skirt as he tugged her Dolce & Gabbana blouse free.

The plane left the ground smoothly, quickly climbing to altitude as Jay’s hand slid just as smoothly along her rib cage. A soft sigh escaped her lips and Jay took it as an invitation to explore further. He leaned over her, still plundering her mouth as his other hand made its way up her thigh and beneath her underwear.

The pilot’s voice came over the intercom, startling Bridgett. “It’s pretty calm up here, so feel free to move about the cabin if either of you need to.”

His words were all the enticement Jay needed. He unbuckled them both and quickly pulled her across his lap. She gasped as she came in contact with the hard evidence of his desire. “Jay,” she whispered as her mind warred with her body. Bridgett wanted this. She needed this. But he was her client. Worse, he was the Antichrist. She hated him. Most of him, anyway. But she was so damned tired. Tired of being Bridgett, the perfect one. She wanted to be that girl again, the one she’d been that summer long ago.

As though sensing her dissonance, Jay palmed her breast and nipped at her ear. “Forget all that shit. Let’s just be those two people again, Bridgett. It’s still good between us. You know it as well as I do,” his voice rasped next to her ear.

Bridgett couldn’t take it any longer. Digging her fingers into his hair, she tilted his mouth up to meet hers. Jay’s hands slid beneath her skirt and pushed aside her panties. He slipped a thick finger inside of her, causing her hips to arch. Both his tongue and his finger picked up the same rhythm, and Bridgett’s body began to tighten around him. Moaning, she pulled her mouth free from his, burying her face against his shoulder. Jay’s breath caressed her ear as he murmured to her. “Let go, Bridgett. Let go of all of it.”

She came in a rush, startling in its intensity, yet not long enough to ease the ache inside of her. Frantically, she stripped her panties off her legs as Jay deftly unzipped his trousers and rolled a condom over his erection. He maneuvered her hips back over top of him and slid home with heavy sigh. Eyes closed, Jay remained motionless a moment as Bridgett stretched to accommodate him. His fingers dug into her hips as he slowly moved beneath her. It was too slow for Bridgett. She tried to rise up on her knees but Jay held her fast, a lazy smile forming on his lips as he opened his eyes. The intensity and possessiveness shining in those blue eyes startled her. “This is real,” he said as he moved her over him. “This is who we are.”

Bridgett didn’t have time to contemplate his words because he began to move faster beneath her, and it was all she could do to hold on as her body met his stride for stride. His mouth found her breast and the sensation of his tongue pleasuring her through the silk of her blouse and her bra made her wild. Suddenly his thumb found her sweet spot and her breath seized in her lungs. She threw her head back to scream from the pure pleasure of her climax, but no sound came. Jay stilled beneath her, his face drawn as he watched her come back to earth. Brushing her hair back off her face, he gently touched his lips to hers. Then, with a single thrust, his eyes slammed shut and he breathed her name ferociously as his own release overtook him.

•   •   •

Jay rubbed his hands along Bridgett’s back. He was still deep inside her with her body draped over his. The soft, contented breaths she was releasing were making him hard again, but he would die before moving her an inch. The faint scent of pumpkin from her hair mingled with the musky smell of sex that permeated the plane’s cabin and he couldn’t help but grin smugly. She was his and always would be. While he’d never give her the power to hurt him again, he would possess her, sharing a life with her. They could carve out a relationship that left their hearts intact. They’d have to, because Jay wasn’t letting her go again.

His phone buzzed from deep within the pocket of his suit jacket, which was hanging on the seat across from them. Jay ignored it, groaning as Bridgett stirred. She turned her face toward his, her eyes dazed as she began to come to her senses. But Jay didn’t want her thinking. A coherent Bridgett was too risky. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her back into delirium in hopes of a second round before they landed.

Jay swore against her mouth as Bridgett’s phone began ringing seconds after Jay’s quieted. She pulled out of the kiss, inhaling a deep breath as she glanced around the cabin. “That’ll be Stuart,” she said matter-of-factly. “I told him I’d call him at eight.”

Bridgett started to climb off him, but Jay didn’t want the distance between them to return. “Ignore it,” he demanded. Her eyes homed in on his lips and he twitched inside of her, forcing a startled gasp from deep in her throat. Unfortunately, it didn’t do the trick because she jumped off him and hightailed it to the lavatory without a second glance his way.

By the time she emerged, all tucked in and buttoned up, Jay had righted his own clothes and was sipping black coffee from a travel cup. She dug into the bowels of the ugly red bag she carried everywhere and pulled out her cell phone. Taking the seat across from him, she checked the screen.

“Stuart is sending our investigator out to San Francisco to check for any potential hot spots that could still be lingering from your sexual discrimination suits,” she said without lifting her eyes.

Jay had anticipated such a move, which was why he’d insisted Linc get the files together. “I told you that you can have whatever files I have.”

She looked up at him then, worry flashing in her eyes before her cool mask slipped into place. “Scott won’t find anything, then?”

He knew what she was asking, but her secret was safe from her firm’s investigator. If his suspicions were correct, it would be used to blackmail him instead. Jay didn’t bother sharing that tidbit with her, though.

“I’m pretty sure that just before your initiation into the mile-high club I reminded you that I had already given you my word about that. Nothing has changed.”

Bridgett fidgeted in her seat, her cheeks a delicious pink as she swiped a finger over the screen of her phone. “I’ll put this on speaker so we can both talk to Stuart.”

Jay didn’t want to talk to her boss. He wanted to unwrap her from the brittle shield she’d cloaked herself in and have his way with her for the rest of the flight. Unfortunately, Stuart answered on the second ring.

By the time they’d begun their descent, Stuart and Bridgett had mapped out a plan of attack for the day. While Bridgett dealt with her sister this morning, Stuart would be meeting with Mimi Something-or-Other and setting up a prevent defense in case Alesha Warren—or whoever was behind the lawsuit—leaked damaging information to the press or, more specifically, the person hiding behind that damn blog. Jay texted Linc to make the sexual harassment files available to the media specialist since Bridgett would be delayed this morning.

After taxiing the plane up to the small terminal adjacent to Logan Airport, Ron emerged from the cockpit and opened up the outer door. “I’ll go check on the car,” he said as he hurried down the steps.

Bridgett stood and gathered her things while Jay lounged in his seat, finishing his coffee.

“Is there a taxi stand here or do I have to go to the main terminal?” she asked.

Jay couldn’t decide if he was insulted or amused by her demeanor. “The car he’s getting is for you.”

“Oh.” Seeming embarrassed, she shoved her giant bag on her shoulder, clutching her raincoat with the other hand. “Of course. You’ll want to head right back. I’ll get out of your way, then.”

She turned to leave but Jay was quicker. Rising to his feet, he blocked her exit. She took a small step back to avoid coming into contact with his chest, not that Jay would have minded.

“Ron is staying put. He’ll fly you back whenever you’re ready.”

“You’re just going to sit around waiting for me?”

“Ron is. I’m not. I’m catching a flight out to Napa in an hour.” He reached out and fingered a strand of hair that had attached itself to her cheek.

“To get ahead of Scott?”

“No,” he said, easing his body closer to hers. “I told you not to worry about that. It seems, though, that we’re both destined to have to rescue our sisters today.”

“Is Charlie all right?” Her voice was breathless now as he moved to within an inch of her.

Jay gave a frustrated laugh. “She won’t be when I get through with her.” He brushed her cheek with his finger, then reached around to pull her in for a kiss, but she quickly pulled away, taking giant step back.

“No,” she said, her voice breathless. “No more. We had our walk down memory lane, but that’s all it was. We were both tired and overwrought and we lost our heads.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “I have never been nor will I ever be ‘overwrought.’”

Bridgett’s eyes narrowed and she released an exasperated huff. “No, but you are insufferable. You wore me down once, but it won’t happen again. You are a client. Nothing else can or will happen.” She jerked her chin up in the air, defying him to argue with her.

Jay felt a grin break out—not to mention a very nice hard-on begin to develop—at her belligerent stance. “That would have sounded a lot tougher if I didn’t have your panties in my pocket.”

Her eyes went wide and wild as she tried to stomp past him, muttering words that sounded both dangerous and sexy. She didn’t get far, though. Jay wrapped his fingers around her arm and maneuvered her back against the wall of the plane, just out of the sight line for the door. She opened her mouth to protest but Jay silenced her words with his own lips. He feasted on her mouth, tasting tea and mint and a well-satisfied woman. She could have resisted him, likely doing serious damage with those weapons that doubled as shoes, but after a token slap on the chest, her fingers curled into his suit jacket and she was putty in his hands. Jay worked his thigh between her legs and she made a sweet sound at the back of her throat that had him agonizingly hard.

Voices on the tarmac brought him back to his senses. As much as they both seemed to want each other, they’d have to wait. The idea of having her naked in a bed soon would have to sustain him through the crazy day he had ahead of him. Breaking their kiss, he ran his lips along her neck as she blew out gasping breaths.

Jay tugged at her ear with his teeth. “We’re not done, Bridgett. Not even close. I’m beginning to think we never were. Go. Take care of your family while I go take care of mine. But this is going to happen again. Count on it.”

He pulled back abruptly and wrapped his fingers around her elbow, guiding her to the metal steps leading off the plane to the tarmac. Ron was waiting to intercept her at the bottom. Jay watched as his pilot led her to the waiting town car. Bridgett walked purposefully toward the car without looking back. Jay bit back a smile, confident that he’d won that round.