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Authors: Linda Francis Lee

Tags: #Romance, #Sex in the workplace, #Fiction

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BOOK: Sinfully Sexy
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FIFTEEEN
Desperate times required desperate measures. And Chloe was desperate.
After two additional episodes of Roses doing their best to win the
Catch and the Catch ultimately
breaking more hearts, she was now one of only two women left in
contention. Last night, on the
Monday show, Trey had yet again given her another rose. She had become
a finalist in a competition
that she had no interest in winning, unlike the other finalist, Mindy,
who wanted him so desperately that
it was painful to watch. Chloe only had until Friday, when they would
begin taping the final two episodes, to turn things around.
Sitting at the desk, her computer screen bright in the darkness, Chloe
couldn't believe she had ever felt anything for a man who was really
Sterling Prescott. She also couldn't believe that for even a second
she might have thought he was kind.
She realized now that that was probably just what he wanted her to
think—planning his seduction with the precision of a military sergeant.
Or a corporate raider who wanted an even better price on a station that
would fit nicely in his portfolio.
His reasons had come clear to her when she Googled his name and his
company. What she learned had left her cold and stunned. In the last
six months, he had purchased stations in Albuquerque and Tucson
at rock-bottom prices. No wonder he knew so much about the demographics
of the city, not to mention the region. She understood his plan now. He
wanted to connect the three markets, which would give
him an impressive toehold to use for national advertisers who wanted
package rates for regional buys.
And he was playing this game to make sure he got what he wanted.
He was just the sort of man her grandmother had warned her about. His
actions proved her grandmother's unforgiving dictates, and Chloe hated
that most of all. She'd always held on to the hope that there was a man
out there who wouldn't leave, who wouldn't cheat. Who wouldn't lie.
"
Look what happened to your mother
after your father left her. She died of a broken heart. Thank your
lucky stars you were born plain-looking, Chloe love. Your gift is being
smart and sensible. Don't ever let that desert you.
"
But Chloe hadn't been smart or sensible since the day Julia sent her
that quiz. Everything had changed.
Or was it simply that she had been living in a house of cards that had
finally collapsed?
She pressed her eyes closed, hating those moments when determined
happiness failed her. Those moments when she could see her mother,
dancing, twirling, laughing in their small apartment in a bad
part of town. She remembered her mother's beauty, the men who loved
her, showered her with gifts. Then always left. Just like her father.
But Chloe couldn't seem to find a way, or maybe it was the courage, to
broach the subject with him and learn why he'd left. Would the why make
a difference? Could she move on with her own life if she knew the
answer?
Her palms were wet and clammy. She had to get off the show. She needed
off the show.
She realized in some recess of her mind that if she forced the Catch to
kick her off, then what she was really doing was maintaining control.
He wasn't rejecting her, not really, and more important, he wasn't
leaving her.
She wasn't her mother.
She shook the thought away and raised her chin. The fact was, she
wasn't her mother no matter what. She needed off the show so she could
devote her undivided attention to the task of figuring out how to fight
Sterling Prescott. He was distracting her. He was luring her in to make
her vulnerable, pliable. His tactics had been good, too good. Now it
was time that she came up with a tactic of her own that would throw him
off balance. Which brought her back to her original thought.
Desperate times required desperate
measures.
Right or wrong, she couldn't forget Sid's advice. Sure, it was archaic
and idiotic, but even she knew
there was some truth to it. "
Hell, do
you deny that the worst thing a woman can do is have sex with a guy,
then turn into a possessive, aren't-our-kids-going-to-be-beautiful
clinging vine?
"
Yep, it was time to sleep with the Catch.
An unwanted thrill raced through her body at the thought, but she
quashed it ruthlessly. She also
quashed the thought that she was going to an insane extreme that made
little to no sense. She denied
that what she really wanted was an excuse to finish off what they had
started in the bathroom. That wasn't it, she promised herself firmly.
It wouldn't be any sort of romantic night of passion. It was going
to be meaningless, boring, nonimaginative sex. Then, as the piece de
resistance, she would act all clingy and in love afterward. That was
sure to make Trey Tanner, aka Sterling Prescott, run for the hills.
Or more specifically, cause him to finally cut her from the show.
She felt her sense of control return, and her mood brightened until she
was humming "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning." She refused to analyze her
plan, refused to concede that the idea was neither
smart nor sensible. It was simply needed. End of story.
It was the wee hours of the morning when she decided what had to be
done. The moon was still high,
the stars blazing in the dark sky. If she didn't get busy soon,
everyone would be awake and it would
be too late to take action. Since there were only two Roses left,
everyone now had their own rooms—including Ben, who acted really
strange around Julia. Not that Julia was acting normal. Chloe
had never seen two people who disliked each other as much as Ben and
Julia did. Well, perhaps she
and the Catch might qualify.
The only snag in sneaking out might prove to be Ben. But when she crept
past his room, he wasn't
even there. In the kitchen, she found a note.
Girls, I've gone to the airport. I have a
patrolman stationed out front if you
need anything.
Ben
She'd forgive him calling them girls since having him gone made things
all the easier. At least a little
easier. The patrolman was probably only marginally less alert than Ben,
who had become obsessed
with protecting them now that Albert Cummings had proved to be only the
first of the crazed fans
who were determined to sneak onto the set. And amazingly, the attention
was mostly directed at her.
Who knew the plain-looking type would be in this year?
But Chloe wasn't about to let a little security keep her from her
mission. She knew how to sneak
through the back so that no one would be the wiser as she went in
search of her prey. Oops, sorry,
she meant Trey.
Wearing soft cotton pajama shorts and a matching cropped shirt
underneath her robe, a pair of slippers, and her hair pulled back in a
ponytail, she made her way out the back door and across the yard to her
house. Under a dark, early morning sky, she knocked, but no one
answered. When she turned the
handle, it was unlocked.
"Ah, um, Trey," she called out. "Are you awake yet?"
Still nothing.
She debated, considered turning around and leaving when her bravado
began to desert her. But she had
a job to do. With a firm nod, she marched inside before the chicken in
her could take control. She got
all the way to the guest bedroom before she remembered that she
shouldn't be barging in on any man.
For one thing, he could be with another woman.
For another, he could simply be asleep, and if he had anything in
common with a professional killer,
he might leap up and shoot her when he heard her enter.
Okay, so that was a stretch and completely unlike her to even think it,
but the man really had her
thinking and doing crazy things. Standing there determined to have sex
with him being an example.
But heck, she was nothing if not focused on setting goals, developing a
plan, then bringing it to fruition. Yet again, the good girl slipped
away and the sinfully sassy side of herself that she had never known
existed emerged. She wanted this. And for whatever reason, she was
going to go through with it.
She came through the guest room doorway, but what she hadn't
anticipated was that he'd be up, working at his computer, only a small
lamp burning at his side. She stopped dead in her tracks as he turned
in the wooden chair to face her. There wasn't an ounce of surprise on
his face, as if he had been expecting her.
Unlike the last time she had arrived unannounced, this time he was
dressed, his shirt untucked and hanging open. She could see the outline
of his chest, the dusting of dark hair that disappeared beneath the
waistband of his pants. She thought of the day she found him naked in
bed, of the stunning beauty of his body, and a thrill of anticipation
ran through her. Which probably wasn't the best thing to feel when this
was supposed to be a job. Really. But as long as she did feel a tad
warm—okay, so she was more than a tad warm for this guy—why not have a
little fun in the process? Who knew when she'd have this kind of
opportunity in the future?
A rush of hot, coursing power filled her.
She stared at his hand as he closed the screen of his notebook
computer. Her senses flared when he
stood and came around the desk, his height seeming to dwarf the guest
bedroom with its decades-old
oak furniture. Thoughts of having fun, being playful, or even merely
getting the job done fled as something else pushed in. She was awed by
the barely contained strength of him.
"Hey," she said softly.
His gaze swept over her. "Hello," he responded, running his broad hand
down his chest as he stretched.
Then she just stood there, staring.
"Can I help you?" he asked, as always the perfect gentleman.
"Ah, well..."
She took a deep breath, remembered why she was there, remembered the
night in the bathroom and
what she had said that made things happen. "Kiss me," she whispered.
His hand stopped, splayed on his abdomen, only a barely perceptible
flicker in his eyes showing that her words made him feel anything. Then
he leaned back against the edge of the desk, crossed his arms, and
chuckled.
"I wasn't trying to make you laugh."
"Then what were you trying to do?"
"Re-create the night at the hotel."
"Ah, yes. You said 'Kiss me' that night, too."
"Exactly. Which is exactly what got things started," she stated with
modulated practicality.
" 'Things'?" His smile widened.
"You know. The near-sex things."
One slash of dark brow rose, his eyes glittering. "And now you've come
looking for more."
His tone of voice didn't sound very promising. She hadn't given any
thought to having to seduce him.
She had assumed it would be easy, that all she'd have to do was say
"Kiss me" and that would be that.
He seemed to consider, then said, "Come here."
Success, her mind cheered, followed quickly by sizzling electricity
that swept through her at the low, deep command. She took a step toward
him, her pulse leaping wildly. She crossed the room and didn't stop
until she stood right in front of him. But he didn't reach out. He
didn't touch her. He just studied her, some amusement dancing in his
eyes.
"Well?" she demanded.
Wisps of her hair had come free from her ponytail. After a second, as
if he wouldn't allow himself any more than this, he ran his fingers
along the dark strands.
"That's it?" she managed with a deep shiver of feeling drifting low.
"I'm not sure that you really know what you want, Chloe. You come here
asking me to kiss you. Over the last few weeks you've alternately tried
to embarrass me, ignore me, and anger me, and now suddenly you want to
seduce me? Why is that?"
Where were the men who never wanted to talk when you needed them? "So I
have mood swings, sue me."
A smile crooked one side of his sensual mouth. "I think you're playing
some sort of a game."
"And you're not?"
The words slipped out before she could think better of it.
His hand stilled, his expression growing grim. After a second, he
nodded, though not necessarily in agreement. Then he continued, his
fingers drifting from her hair to her collarbone beneath the thin
cotton of her robe. Turning his hand over, he skimmed his knuckles ever
so gently downward,
stopping just above the swell of her breast. Then he dropped his hand
away.
Her breath caught in disappointment. She could leave. She probably
should. Instead she reached up
and touched his face, her fingers tracing the contours.
This time he drew a deep breath, and when she pressed one fingertip to
his lips, he opened and took it inside. The gentle sucking sent a
thrill through her. Something so simple, but amazingly sensual,
surprising her. Her breath winged out, and her body started to tremble
in anticipation.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she whispered.
"Like what?"
"Romantic," she managed, before he gave in and leaned down. He didn't
pull her close. But he did
finally kiss her as she had asked.
Her fingers clutched the edges of his shirt. He coaxed her lips apart
and she tasted him. Clean and fresh. And when she leaned into him, she
felt his deep moan, but he still didn't pull her close. His fingers
were curled around the edge of the desk, holding on.
"This isn't wise," he said against her open mouth. "Not now. Not while
the show is still in progress."
He sighed into her. "Though I haven't done a wise thing since you ran
into me."
"You ran into me."
He laughed, and she could feel a notch of his ironclad control slip.
Just a notch. Just barely. After a moment, he kissed her hairline, his
lips drifting low until he nipped at her neck.
He leaned back and looked into her eyes. She saw a depth of feeling
inside him—desire, yes, but it was more than that. She could see
feelings of wonder and innocence, as well, that she would never have
dreamed were possible in this man. He wanted to give in, but wouldn't.
"Why?" she whispered.
As if he understood her thoughts, he said, "You make me lose control."
Then he did what he said he wouldn't do. He reached out, circling her
wrist with his strong hand,
pulling her to him.
"Chloe," he murmured, pressing her against him. "God, I can't stay
away."
She felt his desperation, felt the intensity shimmering through him.
Almost savagely, he captured her mouth with his, seeking desperately,
lips slanting, unleashing the strength of his need.
She inhaled deeply, and when she did, she felt his tongue, fleetingly,
against her lips. The intimacy amazed her, as did the strange feeling
that coursed through her body, making her want to press even closer.
The bathroom episode and even the television show were gone from her
mind. Whatever her reasons
for coming here, they were forgotten. Only this enigmatic man remained.
He widened the brace of his legs, wrapping his arms around her, and she
clung to him. His heat drew
her as his hands slid down her spine to cup her bottom, drawing her
full against the hard planes of his body. She groaned into his mouth as
he kissed her again coaxing, his need insistent against her.
She felt his breath brushing her ear. But his words caught her off
guard.
"Why are you so determined that we make love?" he wanted to know.
Reality tried to intrude, making her remember why she was there. "Not
make love. It's just sex," she stated with a primness that even she
heard. "I can do just sex."
It blurted out of her, just like that, and she wasn't sure why.
He tilted his head and set her at arm's length. "Chloe? Are you a
virgin?"
Her heart leaped and she unsuccessfully tried to pull away. "Maybe this
isn't such a good idea, after all." She pushed at his chest to no avail.
"Chloe, talk to me."
"There's nothing to say. This was a mistake."
"How can you change your mind so quickly? One minute you walk in here
trying to seduce me—"
She grimaced.
"—then the next you're trying to escape. All because I asked if you
were a virgin. It's okay if you are."
Her shoulders came back. "I know it's okay! And for your information, I
am not a virgin. I've had
plenty of sex."
He looked at her as if he didn't believe her. And rightfully so. She
might have had sex, but the allure
of it eluded her. But she had thought the same thing about kissing
until she met this man.
"But you didn't like it," he stated kindly, his hands still holding her
shoulders.
She tried to glance away, but he cupped her cheek, forcing her to look
at him.
"Okay, so it wasn't great," she admitted.
"I'm sorry. When was it?"
"My freshman year in college. The first and last time."
If he was surprised he didn't show it. He simply said, "That was a
while ago."
"It's not a sin to abstain from sex, you know."
"You always get sarcastic when you're in uncertain waters."
"Yeah, right," she said, crossing her arms.
He smiled indulgently. "I love it when you prove my points for me." He
pulled her back and wrapped
her in his arms. "It was a bad experience, wasn't it?"
A frozen spot inside of her seemed to melt a bit at the heat coming
from this man's body. It wasn't a sexual heat, just a warmth that she
could lose herself in. Without warning, she started talking, saying
things that she had never even shared with Julia or Kate. "Yes," she
said, her arms folded between
their bodies. "It was awful," she added softly.
He rubbed his hand down her back, then up again. "It won't always be
awful," he promised.
She snorted. "So you say."
"I do."
She rolled her head until her brow pressed into his chest. "He said he
wanted to show me his favorite place," she continued, closing her eyes.
"We were hiking along the river. When we came to an empty stretch lined
with cotton-wood trees, he told me that it was his favorite spot. Then
he kissed me and
he sort of pushed me down."
The kindness in Sterling evaporated. She felt the tension in him. "He
didn't do anything I didn't want
him to do," she stated quickly, realizing what he must be thinking.
And he hadn't done anything she hadn't wanted him to do. The story
unfolded from the locked place in her heart. The college guy hadn't
done anything against her will. But she had always dreamed that when
she made love for the first time, it would be romantic. It hadn't been.
In a voice that was void of emotion, Chloe found herself telling this
man, the one who held her, all about it. From being pushed to the
ground without a blanket and the gravel poking into her back as he had
sex with her, to the next day and the day after that when he never
called her again.
"I thought he was the one. When he told me he wanted to show me his
special place, I was hoping that
he was taking me there to make love to me. I was young and foolish and
stupid to think that he was
crazy about me."
"He was crazy," Sterling stated. "Crazy and an idiot and I wish I could
get my hands on him."
His whole body hummed with tension, and the protective surge in him
filled her with a sort of joy she hadn't experienced since she was in
junior high and Julia had marched in and confronted her grandmother
about the bedroom furniture.
"You deserved better than a bed of rocks on a river levee," he stated
fiercely.
Before she could respond, he stood away from the desk and swept her up
with ease, hooking his arm under her knees.
She grabbed on to his shoulders. "What are you doing?"
He didn't answer and her heart pounded wildly as he carried her to the
bed. But he didn't lay her down. He sat on the edge with her in his
lap. She could feel the ripple of muscle beneath the thin cotton of his
shirt. He was like a cage of steel circling her, making her feel tiny
and protected. She wanted to touch him, explore his body, but she held
back. As if sensing her trepidation, he brought her hand up and
placed it on his chest.
"I want you to touch me," he whispered against her ear.
A shiver raced through her, down her spine to the juncture between her
legs. A blush seared her cheeks, and when she glanced at him, he was
watching her.
"Go ahead," he said.
Biting her lip, she ran her hand between the edges of his open shirt,
then she gasped when he arched
back and ripped it off. The desk lamp cast a golden light on his bared
chest. She did as he asked, reveling in the smooth tautness of his warm
skin, his heart beating against her hand—strong and steady. Making her
trust him. Making her want more.
BOOK: Sinfully Sexy
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