Three Marie Ferrarella Romances Box Set One (4 page)

“Oh, Lord,” she muttered, grabbing her violet negligee as she jumped out of bed. Her feet searched for her slippers and came up with only one. One was better than none, she thought as she hurriedly secured her filmy robe at her small waist. Quickly she unlocked the door and threw it open, expecting to see some flush-faced hotel employee ready to rush her out of a burning inferno.

Instead Shane found herself swept up into an embrace one moment before her mind registered just who was standing in her doorway. Her mouth was covered with forceful lips that seemed to suck her very breath away in a flash of pins and needles that danced up and down her arms and legs. For one wild moment she felt herself being carried away, savoring the deliciousness of the kiss.
 

It tasted wonderful. Wait! What was happening here? In an effort at self-preservation, Shane wedged her hands up between herself and the assailant. With a mighty shove, she broke free.

Nick! Who else?

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. She realized that he wasn’t looking at her face, and she glanced down. Her robe was now opened, and the gauzelike nightgown did very little to hide her contours and nothing to hide the fact that her nipples were almost standing erect with excitement. She wrapped the robe about herself quickly, securing the sash so tightly that it almost hurt.

“I just wanted to know if you kiss as well in the morning as you do at night. You do—but we’re really going to have to work on your endings,” Nick told her, strolling into the room.

Shane shut the door behind him. “You are the most egotistical, insufferable—“ She broke off in annoyance with herself. An extensive vocabulary at her disposal, and all she could do was stutter like some blithering idiot!

Nick held up a finger. “Now, now, I didn’t say I kissed well. I said you did. In case you hadn’t noticed, that was a compliment.”

Shane ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face. “I don’t notice anything at six in the morning. Any decent person should be in bed at this hour!”

“I’m for that,” Nick said. To her horror, he walked over to her bed and started to take off his denim jacket.

“That wasn’t an invitation!” she said sharply, placing herself in front of him to stop his progress toward her bed.

Nick snapped his fingers. “Too bad.” He peered over her shoulder at the rumpled bed. “You always sleep that messy?” he asked, nodding toward the sprawled covers. The pillowcase was half off, exposing a faded flower design.

Shane moved jerkily, suddenly self-conscious. He was starting in again, making her strangely unsure of herself. Oh, why hadn’t she gotten a good night’s sleep? Then at least she would have been fortified against him. But something told her that it would take a lot more than just a night’s sleep to fortify her against this man. She plucked up the pillow and shoved it back in its case. “Can we keep my sleeping habits out of this, please?”

Nick went on as if she hadn’t said anything. “Me, I sleep like a log for about five hours. That’s all your body needs, really. The rest of the time is wasted, unless, of course”—he paused, his seductive eyes intent on her chest as she took in each breath; Shane felt as if her very cleavage was drawn to him—“unless you’re not alone. Then it can be spent very fruitfully.” He took her hand in his.

She wasn’t up to fighting off the warmth his touch generated, so she unceremoniously pulled her hand free before the magic began to work.

“I’m not interested in bearing fruit,” she said. From the grin on his face, she realized that her choice of words was poor, to say the least. “What are you doing here?” she demanded again.

“I’ve come to introduce you to the dawn, Shane. I have a strong suspicion you’ve never seen it.”

“Dawn?” she echoed, her voice just a touch hysterical. “The sun coming up. Big deal.”

“Oh, but it is,” he assured her, ever so gently gliding his hands over her shoulders. He melted the fabric away.

Steady, Shane, steady. The man’s a nut
.
 

She took a step back, away from his hands, away from her increasing vulnerability. “You’re crazy, do you know that? I’m standing here, in my nightgown—“

“So I noticed,” he cut in. She could almost hear the leer in his voice.

“—carrying on a wild conversation with a crazy man who never seems to sleep. Are all you Hollywood people like this?”

“I’m unique, remember?” He winked at her. “That’s why you’re doing this story. Remember?” He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his well-cut. form-fitting jeans. Shane’s eyes were inadvertently drawn to them and the way his muscular thighs were outlined against the well-worn material. In contrast, his hips were slim. Definitely the body of an athlete, she thought. The low-slung cut of the jeans led her mind in other directions.
 

She reined in abruptly, jerking her head up. From the grin on his face, she knew he had been enjoying her appraisal. He pulled a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it before holding it out to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, snatching the piece of white bond.

“You wanted my schedule for the next month, remember? Gypsy typed her little fingers to the bone, just for you.”

“Probably her first experience with a keyboard,” Shane said dryly. Why was she taking out her frustration on some poor woman she had never met? It was Nick who was making her so uncomfortable, not some woman with the improbable name of Gypsy.

Shane scanned the list. The first thing she saw was: Saturday, September 10th, Gloria’s party. Bring Shane. That was today.

“What’s this?” she asked him, jabbing her forefinger at the words.

Nick moved around to look over her shoulder. “Oh, that. You’ll like it,” he assured her, resting his hand comfortably on her shoulder. “Gloria gives terrific parties. She’s one of my oldest backers.”

Quickly Shane reviewed all the clothes she had brought along. “I’m not prepared for a party,” she protested.

“Just bring yourself,” he said. “That’s being prepared enough.” His hands started running over her shoulders again. She stiffened, trying to prevent his touch from affecting her.

“Hey, you’re all tense. I can feel the knots standing out three inches high. Here, let me,” he proffered, and without further comment, he went on to do just what she didn’t want him to. He began to massage her, kneading her tight muscles and playing havoc with her insides.

She felt herself being lulled into almost a trance-like state as his hands reached higher and higher along her back, rubbing and stroking their way along the sensitive sides of her breasts. Shane sucked in her breath, fully intending to move. But she stood where she was, absorbing it all, craving it all.

Slowly, he turned her around, his hands barely brushing against the outline of her breasts, making every nerve in her body stand at attention. He tilted her head back with the point of one finger and his lips were on the smooth white plane of her throat, sending a throbbing ache all through her. She took shorter and shorter breaths as her robe fell off her shoulders, its absence not noticed as his mouth rained down soft kisses in its stead.

Nick’s caresses were raking the embers of desire, long buried in the smoldering ashes of her past, and making them flame into a new and even brighter blaze.
 

No, no, not again
, a feeble voice inside her cried.

Bells. She was hearing bells. The telephone! She felt herself being released, albeit reluctantly. Was the reluctance his—or hers?

“Your phone,” he said softly, nodding toward the intruding sound.

Shane clutched at it as if it were her lifeline back to sanity. “Hello?” Was that her voice? It sounded so shaky. She damned herself for its breathless quality and averted her eyes from Nick’s knowing face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Shane. I forgot about the time difference. Did I wake you?” It was Meg.

Thank God for Meg, Shane thought. “No, that’s all right. I wasn’t in bed.”

“Almost,” Nick whispered into her other ear.

His breath swirled about her neck and caused another emotional earthquake. Distance. She needed distance from this man. She grabbed up the cell phone and went as far away from Nick as she could get—which was halfway into the tiny bathroom.
 

“I couldn’t wait to find out. What’s he really like?” Meg asked breathlessly.

“Like nothing you’d ever imagine,” Shane said before she could stop herself. A chuckle from the other room drifted into the bathroom. “Look, I can’t talk right now, Meg. Let me call you back, okay?”

“Fine, I’ll be—“ Meg never got a chance to finish her sentence as Shane rang off. She marched back into the other room, determined to get Nick out before something else happened.

His smile grew brilliantly inviting as he watched her put the cell phone back on the nightstand. “Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” he asked, coming toward her.

“I was throwing you out of my room,” she replied.

He picked up one thick curl that tumbled provocatively to her shoulder and kissed it lightly. “That’s not quite how I remember it,” he murmured. His smile softened as a thought seemed to hit him. “I bet you’re as pure as the newly fallen snow.”

“The condition of my ‘snow’ is none of your business,” she retorted. What gave him the right to be so damned personal all the time? He was ruining her own image of herself as a professional. She wondered if Barbara Walters ever had to put up with something like this.

But Nick wasn’t deterred by her cold voice. “Haven’t you ever been involved with anything except your work?”

“I’m supposed to be asking all the questions, remember?” she said. But Nick said nothing, apparently waiting for her to answer him. After a beat, she shrugged. “I was married once,” she said, trying to sound offhanded about it.

“And?” Nick asked, waiting. His voice was kind, drawing her out.

What did it matter? she thought as she turned her back toward him and looked at the rays of dawn filtering through her window. It had all happened a long time ago, to someone else, someone highly impressionable and vulnerable. “Alan was a handsome god with feet of clay and a girl behind every door. It lasted six months. I never understood why he bothered getting married. It obviously wasn’t his forte.”

She felt the heat of Nick’s body as he stepped close behind her. For a moment, not a word was spoken as he softly stroked her hair.
 

No, no pity
.
That was the worst thing of all.
She squared her shoulders against his touch, then swung around.

“So much for true confessions. Now, since you’ve gotten me up, I might as well shower and get dressed.”

“Fine by me,” Nick agreed. “Need anyone to scrub your back?” The devilish rogue was back, flirting with her from beneath lavishly fringed gray eyes.

“No, and I’m not getting dressed with you sitting here. Go down to the lobby and wait for me,” she instructed. She wondered how many women would dare to talk this way to him.

“The lobby?” he asked, feigning horror. “Madam, do you realize what awaits me down there?”

“What?” she asked, playing along.

“Why, there might be legions of my fans downstairs by now,” he said, still using dialogue that might have sprung out of one of his costume dramas.

Shane sighed. “If you’re swept away, I’ll understand. I’ll find you. Never fear.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” she asked impatiently. He was the problem, she thought, and smiled grimly at him.

“Why, they might just surround me and tear off all my clothes. It’s been known to happen, you know. You wouldn’t want to go anywhere with me naked, would you?” The grin spread, covering every handsome inch of his face. “Or would you?” he asked, rakishly cocking his head.

Shane threw up her hands. She knew she was beaten before she even started. “All right, stay, then!” she snapped. She felt helpless when he poured on the charm; he’d done it from the first moment she met him, and she didn’t like it one bit.

Angrily she snatched some clothes out of her suitcase, clothes she had meant to hang up last night but hadn’t. Consequently, wrinkles that were supposed to have fallen out overnight now winked back at her as she eyed them. This was not going to be one of her better days, she just knew it. Hoping she had everything she needed, she barricaded herself in the bathroom, making sure she flipped the lock loudly.

“I’ll behave,” Nick’s sensuous voice assured her through the closed door.

“When pigs can fly,” she muttered, switching on the water in the shower. No hot showers for her today. She didn’t need anything to lull her senses. She needed all her wits if she was to prevent herself from becoming another of Nick Rutledge’s conquests. She was here for a good story that would result in the kind of attention that would advance her career. The last thing in the world she needed or wanted was to get emotionally involved with a Hollywood heartthrob who was half man, half god.

And very, very desirable, a tiny voice added as cold water pelted her body.

By the time she emerged from the shower, she felt a bit like an icicle, but at least her mind was functioning again. She made a mental outline of the questions she wanted to ask him and the points she wanted to look for. With sure fingers, she applied the light makeup she usually wore. Never over-advertise, she had learned. Subtlety got her point across much better.

But subtlety was going to have to fall by the wayside as she realized that she had neglected to bring her bra from the other room, and now the blue-gray jersey adhered tantalizingly to the full, firm outline of her breasts, leaving only the tiniest bit to the imagination of the beholder. Damn that man, she couldn’t even dress in peace. Shane sighed. A lot of women went braless, she told herself, hesitantly opening the door. A lot of women also went sky-diving, but that didn’t mean she had to be one of them. In addition, going braless before Nick was a little like waving a goldfish before a piranha.
 

The alternative was to get her bra. Bad idea. The goldfish was just going to have to put on boxing gloves, she told herself firmly.