Hotblooded (22 page)

Wow. This reaction was just from him buying her some new clothes. Imagine what she would feel when they were actually together.

She could say no. Or say nothing at all. She could just go downstairs, get in her car and go back to Honey Creek. Or she could wait until Jack came upstairs to pick her up and then tell him that there was no way they were going on a date together.

She eyed the black dress again. It was a great dress. She had never had a dress like that. She’d never actually prepared for a one-on-one date with a guy she was truly infatuated with.

She took the hanger from the rod again and stared at it up close.

Or she could put the dress on, enjoy primping and wow Jack when he came to the door.

She was grinning as she turned on the shower. She had to give Jack credit. He’d found a way to date her in spite of Honey Creek.

The least she could do was dress up.

An hour later, she was nervous. Very nervous.

She’d never been to a fancy restaurant in a sexy dress.

Of course, she’d never been anywhere with a guy who made her feel like Jack did. Which was a lot of the reason for the butterflies jitterbugging in her stomach.

She curled a strand of hair around the curling iron that Carla, bless her heart, had included—along with hairspray and other miscellaneous necessities—in the hotel bathroom. As she waited for the curl to take, she studied the dress.

It fell straight to her knee and dipped low in back, the spaghetti straps running over her shoulders to crisscross over her shoulder blades. The silky material glided over her skin, moving with her, but hinting at every curve.

The last curl in place, Brooke sprayed the style and then turned to leave the bathroom, where she was confronted by the skimpy white lace nightgown Carla had hung on the back of the door. Pinned to the front of the nightgown was another big bright yellow smiley face.

The butterflies in her stomach picked up the pace when she looked at that nightgown.

A moment later, a sharp rap on the door nearly knocked the breath out of her.

One last glance in the mirror and she was as ready as she could be, torn between nervousness over how badly she wanted everything to be perfect and the anticipation born of waiting her whole life for this night.

The sight of Jack standing outside her door did knock the breath out of her.

He was dressed in a dark gray sports jacket with black pants, a crisp white shirt and a tie with gray and black geometric shapes. The jacket emphasized his broad shoulders and the whole thing made him seem taller and more powerful somehow. The clothing was something any man might have worn to a business meeting, even a funeral, but on Jack it was sexy. Or maybe it was just the incredible emotions coursing through her.

“Maybe I should have included a second option,” he said, one corner of his mouth curving up in a lazy smile.

She couldn’t help smiling in return. “A second option?”

“Staying in.” His eyes toured over her slowly from head to toe and back. He clearly appreciated what he saw. And assumed she would have gone for that option.

She felt warm everywhere. How could the confidence that had initially driven her nuts be so attractive now?

She had to change the subject. “Did you pay for all of this too?” she asked spreading her arms to indicate her dress and accessories.

“Carla took my credit card,” he said, taking another expedition with his eyes. “I hadn’t seen any of it until now. But I can’t remember ever being happier to spend money.”

The warmth, which was more than physical, intensified. “Thanks.”

“Thank you for staying after you found out what was going on.”

She lifted a shoulder, though was not at all nonchalant about it. “You went to a lot of work.”

“Funny, it didn’t feel like work.”

And suddenly she wanted to cry and kiss him all at the same time.

The nervous-tense-excited anticipation threatened to overwhelm her. She felt enough energy to run sprints up and down the hall and had the crazy urge to giggle, though she knew it would sound hysterical.

She also felt every bit of sexual energy and hormones that had been suppressed for—well, forever—suddenly surge through her.

She couldn’t sit still across the table from Jack in a candlelit room. It would be too much romantic overload. She needed to get her emotions under control first.

“I’m not really hungry yet,” she said as she stepped from the room and pulled the door closed behind her, shutting it harder than she intended.

“You want to do something else first?” he asked.

Though his tone was not suggestive, her imagination came up with several options to work up an appetite.

He put a hand on her back as they walked toward the elevators. His fingers touched her bare skin above the dip of fabric and Brooke sucked in a quick breath that she hoped he didn’t hear.

This was nuts. She was just emotional over the effort he’d gone to for her. Maybe she was a bit sleep deprived as well. Or maybe it was PMS. Something had her off-balance tonight.

But she could not beg Jack to make love to her just because he’d sent some flowers, given her a fountain and was taking her to dinner. This reaction was pathetic, a very acute reminder of how long it had been since she’d been attracted to a man.

“I was thinking a movie sounded good.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as strained to him as it did to her.

A movie was good, she thought as the numbers above the elevator doors counted down. Other people would be around to keep her from doing anything stupid. Plus, they wouldn’t be able to talk, so he couldn’t say more sexy, charming things that made her want him.

“A movie?” he repeated. The elevator arrived and they stepped on. “Sure. Okay. Whatever you want.”

They waited for the valet to bring the car around without speaking.

Her thoughts wouldn’t stop though. Maybe she didn’t want Jack. Maybe it was simply that he was an attractive man who was the first to give her attention and romance. It probably could have been any male over the age of thirty. She took a deep breath and felt a little better.

But she couldn’t keep her mind from noting how large and strong Jack’s hand was as he grasped the door handle to open it for her.

“What movie do you want to see?” he asked as they pulled out of the hotel’s circular drive.

“Oh, anything.” Her mind was only partially on the question he’d asked.

“So, you really want to see a movie, but you don’t care which one?” he asked, bemused.

“No.” She really just wanted a distraction from Jack’s bewildering presence.

It was all almost too good to be true.

She glanced at him. Was he nervous at all? Was it even a big deal to him?

Doubtful.

He’d probably been on millions of dates. They’d likely all been with beautiful, sophisticated women, too. Most had probably not ended until the next morning either, when they rolled out of bed, still with great hair and minty-fresh breath.

She couldn’t live up to his standards anyway. She tried to take another deep breath, recognizing her hyperventilation as ridiculous. She felt like her thoughts were on a treadmill and someone had cranked the speed up to breakneck.

She pressed against the headrest and tried to calm down. It was dinner and a movie.

The movie would give her a chance to remember how to be rational and composed.

Jack was, thankfully, preoccupied with finding a parking spot.

“We’re overdressed, you know,” he commented as he finally pulled into a slot.

She managed to curve her lips into a smile. “A little,” she agreed, her voice weak.

“Well, it will be dark.” He got out of the car and came around to open her side. He took her hand to help her out, but didn’t release her even as they started toward the 12-plex cinemas.

She tried to relax her fingers and arm. He would feel the tension, she was sure.

“You really don’t care?” he asked as they stood perusing the listing of movies.

She seriously considered the question now. “No war drama or psycho thriller,” she finally said. “But otherwise, I don’t have a preference.”

“Blockbuster action film it is then.”

With tickets in hand the next stop was concessions.

“Do you want anything?” he asked.

What a loaded question.

She made herself study the food options, the candy in particular. She hadn’t thought she could eat earlier, but this was chocolate—a whole different situation. Besides, she knew chocolate could cause an endorphin release much like sex did. Maybe that would be enough to appease her.

“I’ll have Junior Mints and a jumbo peanut butter cup,” she told the girl behind the counter. “Oh, and some chocolate-covered peanuts.”

He looked at her with one eyebrow up, but simply paid the inflated price for her candy and his soda and popcorn.

He let her pick the seats. She stood in the aisle and quickly scanned the theater for anyone she knew. She hadn’t thought of it until now, but this was the closest theater to Honey Creek. Her preoccupation with Jack was dangerous.

“Brooke?” He nudged her with the forearm he had wrapped around a huge tub of popcorn. “The lights are going down.”

She hadn’t even noticed. She started toward the steps leading to the top of the stadium seating. It seemed a more strategic position to be able to spot anyone she knew and hide before they saw her.

She stopped at the fourth row from the back and waited for the large man on the end to move so they could pass.

“You okay?” Jack asked near her ear.

All of her senses zeroed in on him—the warmth and size of him right behind her, too close for anyone watching them to assume anything other than that they were on a date. And Brooke felt the thrill, and another strong urge to giggle hysterically, shoot through her.

“I’m okay,” she told him as they slid into their seats.

“You sure?” He didn’t look convinced. “You seem jumpy.”

Yes. She was most certainly jumpy.

“I’m fine.” She even gave him a smile.

He grinned back and something in her that had previously been tight, melted and let go as a current of warmth swept through her.

Strangely, in spite of the relative relaxation, her desire to take off all her clothes intensified.

She turned from the sexy smile and tore open the king-sized package of peanut butter cups, eating all four before the previews were over.

When she’d swallowed the last bite, she sighed. She actually thought she felt better. Who needed men? Chocolate would only ruin her dress size…not her reputation.

Then Jack took her hand—now unoccupied by candy—in his. The warmth alone was enough to make her forget how to even spell chocolate. But then he started stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, and disquiet seemed a permanent state of mind for her over the next fifty minutes.

The caresses were not constant. Just now and then he’d run the pad of his thumb over the soft, evidently very sensitive, skin. Once or twice he rubbed along the outside of her index finger, or the inside of her wrist. And each time it was like turning up the gas on the Bunsen burner.

She lasted until the hero and heroine in the movie were locked in an embrace as their plane plummeted from the sky. They were sweaty, their clothes torn to near rags by their ordeal and they had only each other. The embrace turned into a kiss, which quickly turned erotic.

That was all she could take.

Chapter Eight

Brooke clamped her opposite hand over Jack’s hand that had been tantalizing her with fairly simple, seemingly benign touches.

“Let’s go,” she whispered to him.

She tugged on his hand as she stepped over his feet on her way to the aisle.

Without question or hesitation, he rose and followed her to the door of the theater.

She stopped with her hand on the door. She didn’t want to step out into the glaring light or the crowd that was on the other side the door. To the right was a space where a short wall separated the corner from the rest of the theater. Brooke didn’t know what they usually stored in that corner, nor did she care. It was empty right now and semi-private.

She pulled Jack into the space then dropped his hand and faced him in the dim light.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning close so he could keep his voice low.

“Nothing. Everything.” With no other even remotely satisfying option coming to her, she took the front of his shirt in her fist and pulled him forward. “Mostly, that I need to do this.”

And she kissed him.

The relief was immediate, like the first bite of food after a long deprivation. But she immediately wanted, needed, more.

He didn’t seem inclined to deny her.

She pressed close and his hands didn’t just go around her, they cupped her butt and lifted her up against him.

Her arms went around his neck and the kiss deepened to the point that it was difficult to tell if there was any place they weren’t touching.

She’d loved the delicious glide of the silky dress over her skin as she moved. But feeling the fabric sliding between her body and his warm hand made her tremble.

He began slowly walking her backward, his powerful thighs moving against hers, making her moan. Then she felt the wall against her back, which provided the support he evidently sought because he again deepened the kiss and increased the pressure of his pelvis against hers.

She moved against him, striving to be even closer. The ache for him had been present and growing, probably since he’d first walked into the clinic, but certainly since she’d checked into the hotel, and was now nearly unbearable.

His lips moved to her throat and she tipped her head back as her eyes slid shut.

She cupped the ass she’d admired since day one, slid her hands over firm muscles until she’d touched every inch she could reach without breaking lip contact. Then finally, without a trace of shyness, she cupped his erection.

He tore his mouth from hers with a sharp hiss.

She simply dropped her lips to his throat. He held the back of her head, his chest rising and falling quickly under her touch.

“Brooke,” he ground out. “This is supposed to be about you.”