Mistress Minded (7 page)

“Babe, you're cramping my style,” Ray said.

But Didi just walked away. Adam didn't want to sit here and schmooze with Ray for the next thirty minutes. The band slid into an old Miles Davis tune. Adam wished Jayne were here. She'd like this band, and he knew he could coax her onto the small dance floor.

“That one is always sticking her nose in my business. She gives me
agita.
Is Jayne like that?”

“No. Well, sometimes. If I ask her to do something she thinks is ridiculous or not good for business.” Adam didn't mind her interference, because nine times out of ten she was right on the money. Jayne had a way of looking at life and situations with clear eyes, and sometimes she saw things that he didn't with his single-minded focus on getting the job done.

“How long you two been together?” Ray asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Adam knocked back his single malt. Not long
enough, he thought. “She started working for me eight months ago.”

Ray gave him a man-to-man look. “But you knew you wanted more?”

“What are you, my father confessor?”

“
Madon',
you have no idea. I guess that was pushy.”

“Yeah, it was. I know how important it is that a couple buys this place.”

“Not any couple,” Ray said. “A couple in love.”

“Jayne and I are committed to keeping Perla Negra as one of the Caribbean's premiere resorts.”

“That's not good enough. I thought I was clear when we spoke on the phone. Perla Negra isn't just a resort. It's a legend.”

“Legends make a nice selling point,” Adam said.

“Yes, they do,” Ray said. He took a puff off his cigar. “But it has to be more than that…. Perla Negra is a place where couples come for romance and to reaffirm the bonds between them.”

Perla Negra… The way Ray spoke of it made it seem like something mystical and otherworldly, the perfect place for love. Two things that couldn't survive in the real world, or at least in Adam's world.

“I hate to break it to you, Ray, but some of the couples who come here are adulterers.”

Ray shrugged.

Adam knew that not everyone felt the way he did about adultery. He also acknowledged that if his fam
ily hadn't been shattered by it he might not hold the act of being unfaithful in such disdain. But he did. And it was the one thing he couldn't forgive or tolerate.

“We provide a place for them to be together. We never stand in the way of true love.”

“No matter what kind of mess it leaves behind?” Adam asked.

“I don't follow.”

Adam finished off his drink. “Never mind. I think I'd better go see about Jayne.”

“No problem,” Ray said. “We'll meet you for breakfast on the veranda. I've arranged for you both to take a tour around the island on a boat.”

“I can handle the boat myself, so we won't need a guide. Good night.”

“Buona notte, compare.”

Adam walked through the lobby, intent on getting back to Jayne. Something was wrong and he should have picked up on it earlier instead of letting business distract him. The only reason he had was that business was easier to manage and deal with.

The suite was dark when he entered it except for a small coffee table lamp. He was surprised to see the red file folder sitting in the middle of the desk, the one that held his action items. Jayne must have done some work when she returned to their suite.

Relieved that she must be feeling better—not only because he hoped to persuade her to become his
lover—he flipped open the file folder and skimmed the printed e-mails and faxes. Nothing urgent.

He loosened his tie and toed off his shoes as he approached the bedroom. He hadn't worked out the details yet, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to let Jayne leave her job, despite what he'd always believed about lovers working together. He knew that he functioned better when she was around.

He opened the door to the bedroom carefully. Moonlight spilled in from the window, and Adam stayed in the shadows, searching the bed for Jayne's small form. But the bed was empty.

“Chère?”

“Out here,” she said. Her voice drifted in from the balcony.

Adam stepped out there, ready to pull her into his arms and finish what they'd started too long ago on the beach. But one look at the way she held herself and he knew something was terribly wrong with Jayne. And it wasn't a damn headache. It was something he'd done.

He suddenly remembered why he preferred having a mistress to actually dating. There was none of this kind of emotional turmoil.

J
ayne had focused on work when she’d returned to their suite. She’d changed out of the wraparound silk skirt—not into the one-of-a-kind negligee that Adam had so thoughtfully provided, but a large T-shirt she’d picked up in the gift shop after Adam had left with Ray.

An answering tautness sprang to life inside her. She shook her head. “I lied. I didn’t have a headache.”

He stepped out onto the balcony and leaned next to her at the railing. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking to her like a relaxed man with nothing but time on his hands.

“Why?” he asked. There was a dangerous softness to his tone that she knew from hearing it in the office meant he was close to losing his temper.

She didn’t place too much importance on that. She probably should have stayed and acted her role for Ray and Didi, but she couldn’t. She’d been exposed there in his arms. And if Adam had been watching her instead of Ray, Jayne feared he’d have seen her heart in her eyes. “I needed to get away.”

“From me?”

She nodded. From him and from herself. But there’d been no escaping her own thoughts. So she’d tried to work, and then she’d tried to call her mom, figuring that Mona would know how to keep a man
like Adam in her life. But her mother hadn’t been home, and in the end Jayne hadn’t been able to leave a message.

Adam watched her with an intensity that made her remember his hands on her breasts earlier. She forced her thoughts back to the conversation. “I didn’t want to talk to Angelini. I don’t think I’m cut out for this, Adam.”

“You’re talking about becoming my lover.”

“At least you didn’t say mistress.”

He cursed under his breath and pivoted to face the sea, his hands braced on the railing and his head bent. This was the Adam she wanted to wrap in her arms and comfort. Except she knew now the price was too high, and that she wasn’t to pay it for a few weeks with him.

“I knew it. What the hell happened?”

How could she explain without revealing her own vulnerability where he was concerned? “I just got a wake-up call.”

“Am I supposed to follow that?”

“I guess not. I think the island was working its magic on me. I was falling for the romance of the legend of Perla Negra. And casting you in the role of a swashbuckling hero.”

He rested one lean hip against the railing, his expression now forbidding and dark. And she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

“But now you’ve decided I’m not a hero?”

She’d hurt him, she realized. “I think you’d make a wonderful hero, Adam. Just not for me.”

“Why not?”

“I need more than you can give me.”

“Jayne—”

She reached up and touched his lips to stop the words. “Don’t say anything yet. I’m not even sure what I need, but I know it’s more than you give your women. And I thought I could make you understand that.”

She dropped her hand and tilted her head to study him in the moonlight.

“What happened to change your mind?”

“That kiss with Ray watching. I forgot that even though you want me in your bed, we are playing a part.”

“Dammit, Jayne I wasn’t playing to Angelini.”

She wanted to believe him, but she knew better. Adam was always aware of everyone and everything. “I’m not mad about it. I’d have done the same thing in your position.”

“How gracious you are. What if I wanted to make love to you out here on the balcony?”

“I’d have to draw the line there. I just told you I’m having a hard time keeping up with the pretense.”

“Exactly what is your difficulty? The hero thing?”

“Yeah, the hero thing.”

“There isn’t another woman in the world I’d have this conversation with,” Adam told her, exasperated.

“Should I be flattered?” she asked mockingly.

“Hell, yes. Dammit, Jayne. For the first time I’m willing to break my own company rules.”

“I know. It means something, but not enough. Even though I’m blaming the island resort, that’s not what’s wrong with me.”

“What is it then?”

“I believe in love and want a family. And you don’t.”

“Would it help if I lied to you?”

“God, no.”

“Then I don’t know
what
you want. I do know if we both crawl into that bed together the point will be moot.”

“Really?”

He raised one eyebrow. “Now who’s not being honest?”

Swallowing carefully around her tight throat, she realized that maybe that was why she’d been standing out here waiting for him to return. She wanted to force him to make a decision. And maybe force herself to make one, as well.

“You’re right. I guess that’s why I left before.”

“Don’t think about it too much,
chère
. This isn’t something either of us is used to or can control.”

“It’s magic, isn’t it, Adam?”

He pulled her into his arms and lowered his head. “You’re the magic.”

Adam scooped Jayne up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Her mouth moved under his with a tentative sweetness he knew was branding him deep in his soul. She let him set the pace, and that was so different from the feisty woman he’d come to know. But he didn’t question it.

He set her on her feet and framed her face in his hands. Forcing her head back with the motion of his, he compelled her mouth open. Her tongue greeted his with a tentative foray, but Adam was past the point of foreplay.

He had an erection that was almost painful, and he desperately needed to be inside of Jayne’s body. He needed to spread her bare on the bed and then taste every inch of her from head to heels. And only when she’d reached the same fevered pitch that burned through him would he move up over her and claim her as his own.

He left her lips and let his mouth slide down the side of her neck, encountering that thick terry-cloth robe once again. He set her on her feet next to the bed and reached out to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.

He undid the sash at her waist and pulled back the terry cloth, expecting to find her slim, curvy body.
Instead he found a large T-shirt with the resort’s logo printed on it.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, the clothing jarring him from the sensual spell he was weaving them both in.

She shrugged. “Something to sleep in.”

“I know I ordered a nightgown for you.”

“You ordered something for me to wear to bed with a lover.”

“Then why aren’t you wearing it?” he asked. But in his heart he knew the answer. She’d thought he’d used her to make Ray believe they were a couple. She’d thought he could call passion and interest from his body at will. She’d thought he’d been using her, and she didn’t want to be exposed in front of him.

That hurt him in a place he didn’t even like to acknowledge he had—his heart. So he ignored that and focused instead on the woman. He would use his skills as a lover to make up for the hurt and pain he’d caused her.

“Why are you making a federal case out of this, honeybun?” she asked in that smart-ass way of hers.

He had to hide a smile because he knew she sassed him only when she was uncertain. And he didn’t want Jayne to be unsure of him in the bedroom, or of herself. To his knowledge she hadn’t dated anyone in the last eight months since she’d started working for him. He tucked that tidbit away for later.

Right now, he set about seducing her with all the
skill he’d learned since he was a boy on the cusp of manhood. Skills he’d first honed to keep from feeling alone, and then later used so that he didn’t have to feel anything other than physical gratification with women. Lately those skills had made him feel jaded. But tonight he was glad for the knowledge, because the only thing that mattered was giving the most pleasure he could to Jayne.

He leaned down, scraping his teeth against the side of her neck and then nibbling at the tender flesh there. Her taste was addictive. Instead he lingered there as if he’d been famished for a long time and she was a full-course meal.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, fingernails scoring him through the cloth of his shirt. He lifted his head and started unbuttoning it. When he shrugged out of it he felt her appreciative gaze on his body.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s okay,” she said, and when he started toward her with mock menace, she giggled. Really giggled, and despite the ache in his groin, he felt lighter than ever before.

He scooped her up in his arms and dropped her on the bed. “Let’s see if I can change your mind, shall we?”

“It’s going to take some work on your part,” she said, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on her elbow.

“I’d probably work harder if you showed me a little flesh.”

She bit her lip and then lifted the hem of her shirt a little so that it rested on the top of her thighs. “How’s this?”

“You’ve got great legs,
chère.
But…”

She lifted the shirt quickly and flashed him. He had a brief image of a nest of brown, curly hair at the apex of her thighs and a smooth flat stomach. Unless he was mistaken he’d seen a birthmark on her left hip. He reached under the shirt and rubbed the spot.

“What’s this?”

“Tattoo,” she said.

“Show me?”

“What are
you
going to show
me?
”

“I’m already bare-chested.”

“So, convince me,” she said.

He sat sideways on the bed, his hips resting next to her stomach. He took her hand from where it gripped the hem of her shirt, bringing it to his mouth. He nibbled the tip of each finger and then kissed the palm of her hand.

He took her hand and stroked it down his body, rubbing her fingers over his sensitive skin. He hardened even more and tried to shift on the bed to relieve some of the pressure between his legs. Damn. He should have removed his pants.

While her hand explored his chest, her fingernails scraped down the center of his body. He lifted her
T-shirt and then bent down to examine her tattoo. It was a pretty little flower that wasn’t open, but tightly closed, and a drop of rain lay on the leaf below it.

He traced the pattern with his tongue. Later he’d question her about it, but now he was too close to her body. He could smell the scent of her arousal, and a red mist settled over him. He wanted her, dammit.

He ached to have her.

“Convinced?” he asked, but his voice now was little more than a growl.

She looked up at him from under her lashes. “I’m naked under this shirt.”

“Hot damn.”

She threw her head back and laughed. He gave up all pretense of playing games, shedding his pants and briefs in one quick motion.

He took the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head, tossing it aside. His breath caught in his throat when she lay spread before him in the golden glow of the lamp. She shone with an effervescence he wanted to claim for himself. But he knew at best all he’d have were these moments in her bed.

First Adam caressed her with his eyes and his words. “You’re the most exquisite woman I’ve ever seen.”

And when he looked at her the way he was now, she felt as if she really were. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel plain and ordinary. A flush spread
over her body and she pushed her shoulders back against the bed, thrusting her breasts into greater prominence.

“Your skin is like the sunrise, warm and golden. And my fingers ache to touch you.”

“I ache to be touched,” she replied.

He smiled softly in acknowledgment. Then he bent over her, tracing the line of her body with his hands. His touch was so light it felt like a breeze, and she thought she was imagining it. But when he paused to explore her belly button she knew it was real.

He licked a path straight down her center, but when he reached her pubic hair he turned his attention to her thigh, nibbling his way down her left leg and then back up her right.

He avoided the areas of her body that ached most for his contact. Her nipples stood erect waiting for his mouth, but each time he came close he didn’t touch them. She writhed on the bed.

He stopped and lingered at her tattoo. With his tongue he traced the pattern again, over and over until she reached down, tunneling her fingers through his hair and holding him to her.

Her tattoo was a big part of who she was—a reminder that she never wanted to be a blossom that had bloomed too many times, like her mother. Jayne had had it done when she was seventeen. It had been painful, but she’d learned that most things in life were.

Adam lifted his head, watching her. He palmed both of her breasts, rubbing their centers in a circular motion until her hips lifted from the bed. His hands moved downward then, skimming her sides and squeezing her hips.

She was helpless to do anything but lie there like a sexual feast prepared for his delight. He stood over her like a god from ancient times. He was like a powerful and successful warrior, she realized, and as she studied him she saw another scar. Unlike the small mark near his nipple, this one ran across his lower belly and down his hip.

She touched the scar gently, tracing over lines that were white with age. He reached down and moved her hand away, bringing her touch instead to his pectorals. How many times had she sat in the boardroom and imagined opening his shirt and touching him?

Now she could. And she did, leaving no area unexplored. She scored his chest with his fingernails when he reached the center of her body, tracing a path with one blunt finger, then dipping inside to test her warmth.

He stretched her carefully, adding a second finger to her opening. She clenched around him, needing more. He bent and she felt the brush of his breath for a second before his tongue tickled her bud.

His fingers moved inside her and his tongue continued its relentless assault until her hips bucked and she grabbed his head, holding him to her hot body.
Her orgasm when it broke over her left her convulsing around him.

Sweat gleamed on her skin and she throbbed from head to toe. She tugged him up over her, skimming her hands down his back. “My turn.”

She pushed against him until he was on his back, then knelt next to him on the bed. She kissed him first, exploring that bold, sensual mouth. She could taste herself on him, and it made her feel a little wicked and naughty. And deep in her center she felt an answering pulse.