Private Passions (9 page)

"Not so great, if you want to know the
truth," Jane said shakily.

"Tell me what you need," Julie said.

"I need to get away. Fast. And I can't let
anyone on my end know that I'm going."

"How fast can you pack?"

"Just
so you know, if she has you thrown off the island and arrested for
trespassing, I'm going to claim I had nothing to do with it."

"I heard you the first five times," Deck
replied. "You know I'd never throw you under the bus." He owed Sam
O'Connell, the head of security for Holley Cay resort—who just
happened to be an old Army buddy and former colleague at Ross
Securities—big time for this.

To be fair, it wasn't as if Deck couldn't
figure out how to get himself to Jane's mysterious island retreat.
It hadn't taken a rocket scientist to figure out where she'd
disappeared to. Unlike most of her entourage Deck was very familiar
with the Sea Shack since he'd accompanied Jane to the property
several times and personally installed the security system.

The challenge was getting to the private
island itself without tipping off any interested locals who might
in turn tip off the press. The only way out to the island was by
boat, and if Deck chartered a ride out to one of the area's private
island residences without prior approval from the owner there would
be all kinds of logistical snags.

That was where Sam came in. By giving Deck a
lift on one of the boats in Holley Cay's private fleet, he enabled
Deck to cut out the middleman and keep his arrival on the
downlow.

As Sam idled the engine and pulled up to the
beach on the leeward side of the island, about a hundred yards from
the main compound, Deck felt another twist of doubt. What did he
think he was doing, barging in on Jane like this when she clearly
wanted to be alone? If she did tell him to hit the bricks—and let's
face it, that was the most likely outcome, regardless of what she'd
written—this could cost him not just his pride, but the
professional reputation he'd worked so hard to build.

One phone call to Malcolm about how one of
his employees had turned creepy stalker would mean not only the end
of his job, but it would put a serious black mark on the company as
a whole. That bullshit about unprofessional behavior he'd cited
earlier when he gave Jane his reasons for quitting was nothing
compared to this.

"So are you going or what?" Sam said
impatiently. "I have a two o'clock meeting with Julie and Chris,
and I sure as hell can't tell them I'm running late because I'm
giving you a ride to see Jane when she made it crystal clear she
didn't want anyone coming or going from this place without her
approval."

Deck hefted his duffel bag onto his shoulder,
all of the reasons why this had disaster written all over it making
him hesitate to step out onto the sand. Sensing he was getting cold
feet, Sam huffed out an impatient sigh. "Look man, from what you've
told me, there's definitely something there. She might not be ready
to admit it at first, but you'll never know unless you try."

Deck nodded. For all that his logical brain
tried to tell him this was a huge mistake, there was something in
his gut that drowned it out, drowned out all the second guessing
he'd been doing since he boarded his first flight nearly twelve
hours ago. Ever since he'd read what Jane wrote—about him—he'd felt
the overwhelming need to go to her. To find out if she really meant
the things she wrote.

To see if he was right in seeing the real
emotion in her words, the subtext that went beyond sex and spoke of
a real connection.

Unfortunately his job dictated that he had
three more days of training on the set before he could go. Only his
years in the army and the sense of duty it had drilled into him had
kept him from walking off the set that first morning.

By the time he could go to her, she was
already gone. Her "people," namely Hal, refused to comment on her
whereabouts, saying only that Jane was suspending any future
engagements for the foreseeble future and had gone to "an
undisclosed location" to relax out of the public eye for a few
days.

Deck knew immediately where she'd fled to.
While the press speculated that she was at this spa or that
retreat, and had even staked themselves outside her mother's house
back in Colorado, Deck knew there was one and only one place Jane
went when she really wanted to escape the all-seeing eye of the
paparazzi.

It couldn't have worked out better, he'd told
himself at the time. And he reminded himself of that now as he
forced his foot to take that first step out on the sand. "You're
right," he said to Sam. "This is the only chance I've got, and I'm
damn well going to take it."

And if Jane responded to his surprise visit
by kicking his ass out and getting him fired... he'd jump off that
bridge when he came to it.

This was his only shot. He knew it like he
knew his own name. If he waited until she was back in LA,
surrounded by her people whispering in her ear about what was best
for her and her image, with all of the press weighing in with their
obnoxious opinions, he would never stand a chance.

But with just the two of them alone, with no
outside distractions, he had a chance to find out if there was
something more between them than five years of pure professionalism
punctuated with some of the hottest sex he'd ever experienced. A
chance to see if she saw him as more than an object of fantasy, if,
as her writing implied, she appreciated him for the real flesh and
blood man he was.

"Thanks man," he said to Sam as he climbed
off the boat.

"Good luck," his friend said with a grin. "I
sure as hell hope she doesn't kick you off—it's a long swim back to
St. Thomas."

Deck gave a low chuckle and started up the
beach. The sugary white sand shifted under the leather soles of his
dress shoes. He bent to take them off along with his socks, telling
himself he wasn't stalling.

The truth was, though, that despite his sense
of purpose, the gut deep knowledge that if he didn't throw himself
out there when he had the chance he would always regret it, his
stomach was in a knot of uncertainty.

It wasn't a feeling he liked or was familiar
with. From the time he was a kid, Deck had seen what he wanted and
gone after it, never doubting his ability to get it.

Until Jane. Her effortless sophistication
made him feel like a big oaf on the verge of tripping over his size
twelves every time he got too close. Her devotion to her husband—at
least what he could see—made him feel like a lewd jerk for his
inability to stop the explicit fantasies involving her from running
on and endless loop through his head.

And then there was the mule kick to the chest
she'd delivered when she'd acted like having the public find out
about them would be tantamount to the end of her world.

As he walked around the compound to one of
the side doors that entered the courtyard, the same nagging thought
tugged at him. What if she still felt that way? Right after it
happened, Deck had consoled himself with the thought that no one in
Jane's position would want to give the press more fuel to their
fire right after Ryan's announcement.

Yet he couldn't get Hal's remark about
fucking the help out of his head. And when he lay awake at night
after concocting this plan to follow her down to the Shack, he
couldn't shake the fear that no matter what happened, no matter how
she really felt about him, there would always be an element of
embarrassment on her part about being with him.

And that's before she even knows any of your
dirty laundry, a little voice needled in his brain.

He shook it off.
Don't get so far ahead of
yourself,
he scolded himself as he keyed in the security code
on the panel next to the door
You're not even likely to make it
past go, much less have to worry about how she'll want to break it
to the public.

Given the way he'd been slinking around
feeling like a kicked dog these last few months, he wasn't sure how
much he cared about whether they went public or not, just so long
as he could be with her.

Deck let himself into the courtyard and
walked deliberately up to the front door. He knocked softly. No
answer, but that wasn't a big surprise. When Jane was here she
spent most of her days lounging by the pool or on the white sand
beach or swimming in the crystal blue waters of the Caribbean.

He hesitated before letting himself in. It
was one thing to show up here unannounced and uninvited. Letting
himself into her house was pushing it even farther.

Then again, he was risking his ass even
showing up here. It wasn't like letting himself in the main house
was going to be the thing that pushed her under the edge. He pushed
open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the foyer. It took his
eyes a few moments to adjust to the relative dimness after being in
the bright sunlight, but he didn't need to see to find his way
around.

The massive stucco house was silent and
smelled of salt air and lemon furniture polish. Though there were
four thousand square feet of house for Jane to ramble around in,
Deck knew she wasn't inside.

The teak wood floor felt cool under his bare
feet as he set his duffel near the door. The fan mounted on the
great room's high ceiling wafted warm, salt-scented air down over
him as he walked across the great room to the sliding doors that
opened out onto the patio. A twenty meter infinity pool stretched
out into the horizon, surrounded by granite pavers that formed a
patio that was easily twice the size of Deck's living room back in
his condo.

In one corner was a covered outdoor kitchen,
fully equipped with refrigerator, built in grill, and a cooktop
range. Next to that was an indoor-outdoor shower that, if Deck
wasn't mistaken, led into the master suite Jane usually
occupied.

The sight immediately conjured up a passage
from one of Jane's writings. "The hot water streams over my naked
skin while his big, soapy hands run over me. He squeezes my
breasts, pinches my nipples, dips his fingers between my thighs. I
spread my feet, let him feel how wet and slick I am for him. Let
him feel how much I want him."

His cock immediately sprang to attention at
the thought of living out that fantasy along with all the others.
He reached down and adjusted himself, trying to ease the urgent
pressure in his groin. He went to the fridge and got himself a cold
beer though it did little to cool the heat pounding through him.
Anxious, restless, he finally settled into one of the padded teak
loungers situated under an umbrella to wait for Jane.

He didn't have to wait long. Every cell on
his body went on high alert as she padded up the stairs that led
from the beach to the pool deck. Her hair was slicked back from her
face, the usual gold turned a few shades darker from the water. A
blue towel the size of a bedsheet obscured his few as she patted
herself dry as she walked, offering him teasing glimpses of smooth,
golden skin that threatened to drive him to the brink of
insanity.

She started across the pool deck and reached
up with the towel to dab at her eyes and blot her hair. Then she
tossed the towel onto one of the loungers revealing a sight that
made Deck feel like the top of his head was going to blow off.

Under that towel, Jane was completely
naked.

Oblivious to his presence, Jane sauntered
across the deck. He knew he should say something to alert her to
his presence, but his mouth was bone dry, his tongue stuck to the
roof of his mouth as though coated in super glue.

How was it possible she'd gotten even more
beautiful than the last time he'd seen her? Even with her recent
weight loss—which the press crowed about like it was a good thing,
while Deck personally thought she could stand to eat a couple of
bacon cheeseburgers—she was so perfect it was hard to believe she
was even a member of the same species.

Her smooth skin had a golden hue, practically
glowing under the intense Caribbean sun. His eyes feasted on every
inch of her. The firm, high breasts he knew would fit perfectly
into his palm, their tight pink nipples he couldn't wait to suck
between his lips. Her firm, flat—a little too flat, if you asked
him—belly he couldn't wait to taste with his tongue.

He watched the muscles shift in her sleek
thighs, a jolt of lust hitting him straight in the balls as he
remembered their strong grip circling his waist, pulling him hard
against her like she couldn't get him deep enough.

And in between... the plump cleft of her
pussy topped by a tidy triangle of dark brown hair made his mouth
water to taste her again, to feel her buck and thrust against his
face as she came in his mouth.

She still hadn't spotted him as she made her
way to the kitchen area, and as she got closer Deck could see a
distracted, almost lost look in her shuttered green eyes.

For a moment, a burst of sympathy pierced
through his haze of lust. For the last few days, he'd been so
focused on getting to her, having her, along with worrying that her
reaction wouldn't be anything like he hoped for, that he'd almost
forgotten she was going through a hell of a time.

As he looked closer, he could see the tired
lines around her eyes, the downcast curve to her mouth.

Anyone who didn't know her would see Jane
superstar frolicking on the beach, living the fabulous life of a
celebrity. But Deck could see that the stress of the past few days
had followed her all the way here to her special retreat.

He watched, lust roaring back to the
forefront, as Jane bent to retrieve a drink from the refrigerator,
offering deck a mouth-watering view of her ass. Remembering the
passage that had first clued him in about the real object of Jane's
lust, Deck's fingers curled in anticipation of closing around the
slim curve of her hips.