Jane Millionaire (15 page)

She spun around to leave the studio and her gaze collided with Rob’s narrowed one.

Uh-oh. How long had he been standing there watching her? Had he seen her on the phone? How much had he heard of her conversation with Jessie? And why did she not hear him sneak up behind her? Her face flamed.

She ran her gaze over him. His snug faded jeans and Got Milk? T-shirt molded his body to perfection. For him, she’d get milk. Gallons and gallons of the stuff. Heck, she’d buy the whole cow.

“Rob,” she exclaimed, leaning back against the locked file cabinet, hoping she didn’t look guilty as sin, knowing she did. “I thought you were at the viewing of the show.”

“Obviously.” His eyes flashed, and he stepped further into the room. “Feel the need to reach out and touch someone this morning?”

“Huh?” Her gaze and attention lingered on the advertisement spread across his broad chest.

He gestured to the file cabinet behind her.

“Oh.” Busted. She quasi-shrugged and plastered a sheepish grin on her face. “I needed to check on my sister. She’s not got a great track record for staying out of trouble.”

Crap. She should have left the darn thing open, then she could have fibbed and said yes. She had no defense, so she did what she always did under such circumstances. She went on the offense--distract and regroup. She tilted her chin, let her gaze wander up those washboard abs, broad chest, dynamite lips to meet his eyes.

“Wanna play basketball again tonight? New stakes?” She lowered her voice to a sultry invitation.

“Hell no.” His answer was swift and sure, but his weight shifted slightly and his Adam’s apple bobbed. Feminine power washed over her. No matter what he said or did, or how forbidden their relationship was, Rob did want her as badly as she wanted him. “You aren’t supposed to be on the phone. It’s against the rules.”

Guess her distraction didn’t work. She’d try again.

“And do you always play by the rules?” she teased, enjoying needling him. After his callous remarks yesterday he deserved it.

Okay, so he’d been warning her she could never be anything except a notch on his bedpost, but she’d never really thought otherwise. He was Rob Lancaster, movie producer. She was Jill Davidson, cop turned temporary actress. She knew they had no future together. No doubt they wanted completely different things from life. But, truth be told, long-term wants didn’t seem to matter so much when he stood right in front of her.

“Yes,” he answered her question, but she knew he was lying.

“If you say so.” She swept her gaze over him again in obvious appreciation, and then feigned a yawn. “Guess, I’d better get back to my jail cell before the dirty dozen are released.”

“San Padres’ jail cells must be a lot cushier than the ones I’ve been in.”

Hearing him use the name of the town she lived in churned up reminders that she wasn’t who he thought she was and she’d better quit forgetting it. Her brow rose. “Just how many jails have you been in?”

“Six for various films. I’ve never been detained in one as you seem to be implying.”

She grinned with mock innocence. “Not me.”

They stared at each other for a long time, neither speaking, neither moving. Jill fought the urge to close the distance between them. Although she might yearn for him, she didn’t intend to try to further their relationship. They wanted each other, but this situation was too complicated already.

Just like Dan had been right about their being meant to just be friends, Rob was right to remind her they were from different worlds. Her body tingled under his gaze and her heart galloped all the same.

Rob watched as Jane closed the studio door. He sank into his comfy, worn leather chair that followed him from one production to the next.

Had she really called her sister? From his eavesdropping, he guessed she had, but couldn’t be sure she hadn’t snuck in a call to her old boyfriend.

He reached for the file drawer and tugged. Locked. Just as he’d thought. She’d picked his lock, borrowed his cell phone, made a call, and attempted to cover it up.

Damn. Had she leaked information about the show to the press? Any news rag would pay top dollar to find out which bachelor she planned to choose.

He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the drawer, the proper way, picked up the phone and pressed the button to pull up recent calls. He stared at the number. Her sister’s?

Only one way to find out. He punched send.

“Jilly? I wasn’t expecting you to call back this quick,” a female voice gushed over the line.

“I must have the wrong number.” Jilly? Oh, he remembered reading in her bio information that her friends and family called her Jill. She’d been telling the truth about who she’d called. Why did that make him feel better?

“Wait. My caller ID shows this as the number from where my sister just called me. Who is this?”

“Just a wrong number.”

“Is my sister okay?” She sounded a bit panicked at his response. “She hung up a bit abruptly, but I thought that was only because I was…” Her voice trailed off. “Who is this?”

Why lie? “Rob Lancaster.”

“The host with the most? Oh my gosh. You are such a total babe. Jilly is so lucky. If only I’d…” she stopped and Rob wondered what she’d been going to say.

“She’s okay?” the woman asked, sounding more subdued.

“She’s fine. I must have hit the redial button by mistake after she borrowed my phone and called you. Sorry to bother you.” What was her name? He couldn’t remember Jane having ever said although he got the impression Jane’s world evolved around taking care of the woman on the phone.

“No bother. Call anytime.” Sexual interest was blatant in her voice until he heard a man speak in the background. “Uh, sorry, I’ve got to go. Tell Jilly I love her and I’m fine. No worries.”

Rob stared at the disconnected phone in his hand. He’d swear he heard the man call Jane’s sister Jessie. Must have heard wrong and the guy had been asking about her, to make sure she was okay.

Or was he Jane’s ex-boyfriend? More likely, the guy was her sister’s fiancé Jane had mentioned when he’d asked her why she was here.

Rob rocked his chair back and wondered what he should do about catching her breaking into his drawer, placing an unofficial, prohibited phone call, and for making him jealous as hell when he’d stepped into the studio and heard her on the phone.

At least the call hadn’t been to the press.

His first thought after the media had been that she’d called her ex. His second had been an urge to strangle her for putting him in the position of covering for her or revealing what she’d done to JP.

“The results are in.” JP burst into the studio where Rob watched live feed of Jill and the bachelors duking it out in a paintball fight.

“And?”

JP wiggled his brows. “I’m going to make you wait until the show along with Jill, the bachelors, and the rest of the world.”

Rob nodded, his attention more on Jill falling to the ground in laughter as the bachelors pummeled her with paint pellets. Her team had won--of course. Did the woman excel at everything physical? His gut clenched, and he reminded himself he’d never know the answer to that question except in his fantasies. All the bachelors, including her teammates, had ganged up and bombarded her, covering her in splatters of multi-colored paint.

“Not hardly.” But even as he said it, his gaze went back to the screen. Two bachelors, he couldn’t tell which ones in their paintball paraphernalia--but he could guess--had picked her up and were carrying her as she kicked and fought to free herself. The cameramen followed closely recording the action. One so much so, paint splattered onto his lens. Where were they taking her?

When they entered the back patio area, he knew. The pool. He grinned as he watched them toss a squirming, shrieking, and trying to free herself Jane into the water, gear and all. She sank to the bottom.

He held his breath and waited for her to surface, which she almost immediately did. He clicked the mouse to up the volume again so he and JP could hear the feed from the taped-on microphone she wore, as did each of the bachelors.

Bobbing in the bright blue water, she whipped off her helmet and tossed it onto the concrete at the waiting men’s feet. She shook her hair out, long wet strands slapping against her beautiful face, and then she grinned a heart-stopping smile at her assailants. “Aren’t you boys coming in? The water’s perfect.”

And just like that she was no longer alone in the pool.

“Damn, she’s good,” JP said from beside him, reminding Rob he wasn’t alone. They watched as the paintball fight turned into an all out water splashing event.

Yeah, Rob believed she was, but he’d never know for sure. Damn it.

“What were you saying about the results being in?” he asked, dragging his envious of the bachelors gaze from the monitor.

“I’ve gotten the official report from the accounting firm handling the viewer voting. We have the names of our three bachelor bootees.” JP passed Rob the hand-delivered message.

Rob scanned the names of the bachelors and their individual scores.

“As you can see, Jeff Kensington ranked as America’s number one choice. Steve Jernigan came in second.”

“Great,” Rob muttered. They’d run the new footage, boot the bottom three, #3, #7, and #9, and open the polls for next week’s show.

“Kensington also won the letter poll and will be awarded an evening alone with Jane in the setting of his choice before the next show airs.”

Damn. She’d already been gravitating toward Dr. Doolittle Kensington and GI Joe Jernigan. He didn’t like it. Hold up. Yes, he did like it. It was what she was supposed to do.

Only Rob hated watching her relationship with the bachelors unfold. He knew she was doing exactly what he needed her to do, what she needed to do, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Why?” JP asked as he lounged in the princess’s setting area. “You’re the one who forced the network to include him as a bachelor or else you wouldn’t sign the contract.”

“It was a foolish thing to do. Have him eliminated during the next show.” Isabella practically shook as she waited for JP’s answer.

“No.”

Perhaps he had not understood.

“He must be one of the bootees.” She could not bear watching any more footage of him and the lovely imposter. Why had she not thought this through to its natural conclusion? Of course, the woman would fall in love with Jeff. How could she not?

“No.” Isabella’s heart wrenched at the thought of what the night might bring. Could she bear another kiss between Jeff and the other woman? “You must stop this at once.”

“Why?”

“I do not wish for him to remain in my home.” More truthfully, she did not wish for him to have a private date with the other woman. Knowing she would watch the film of the date only made the tightening in her chest more painful. “Please see to it that he leaves the castle tonight.”

“This is outta my hands, Princess. I can’t tamper with the numbers. Unless Kensington is legitimately booted, he stays.”

All she had wanted was the opportunity to see Jeff one last time. She should have flown to Central America and volunteered once again as Izzy Strover.

But she had been greedy and had wanted Jeff to visit her country in hopes of…what exactly? Jeff falling in love with the land she loved? Perhaps it was only appropriate since she had manipulated his journey that instead of soil, he was falling for a savvy American woman.

A woman who was free to chose Jeff.

“Then, there is nothing that can be done?”

“The ball’s already rolling. Now we just have to watch it play out.” JP crooked his head at her. “Do you want live feed of tonight’s date?”

Did the man intend to torment her?

“Yes,” she breathed, knowing she would not rest until she had watched Jeff and “Jane’s” date. “I would appreciate that very much.”

# # #

“I can’t believe my letter got the most votes.” Jeff spread out a blanket, then took the large white oak picnic basket Jill held. They’d gone out near a small, private lake on the estate. The moon shined big and round in the star-studded sky.

“I can. It was very sweet.” Almost as if he wrote it to a woman he’d waited a long time to meet, a woman he’d thought about a great deal and longed to spend time with.

“Sweet?” He laughed. “That’s not exactly what I was going for when I wrote it.”

“What were you going for? I almost felt as if I were reading a letter from a long lost lover. One the fate’s had torn me apart from, but had seen fit to allow our paths to cross once again.”