The Sapphire Pendant (22 page)

He suddenly opened his eyes; they clashed with hers. She meant to look away (
Look but don’t stare
, she heard Michelle say), but she couldn’t. Her eyes wanted to drink him in before the mask was set in place, to marvel at the amber specks in his brown eyes, at how large his irises were.

He sat up, but their gaze never wavered. For the first time, she didn’t see him as a crush or a pawn or an enemy to conquer. She saw him as a man, a man she wanted—desired in a purely feminine way. This was no schoolgirl crush, with thoughts of holding hands and sweet kisses on the bay. This was carnal lust rushing through her veins. She wanted to ravish his full, sensual lips, to run her hands up the contours of his chest and find out just how perfect he was.

He was close enough to touch, but she didn’t move. She’d never even kissed a man before. She had tackled a man, even wrestled one, but kissed one? Never. And she had never been given the opportunity to practice. She had practiced once by using the inside of her elbow, but she was sure the real thing wasn’t the same. She would probably make an idiot of herself and end up kissing his chin again. She was almost willing to risk it. But what if he pulled away like before? She licked her lips. She would have to find out.

He didn’t pull away, but the kiss proved to be a disappointment. That was it? Two lips pressed against each other? She drew back.

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “You’ve never kissed a man before.”

She took a deep breath. Her face felt as though it was on fire. “Go ahead and laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? I feel honored.”

She stared at him in disbelief.

“This is going to be fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yep.” He cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “Open your mouth a little.” He began to smile. “I said a little: like this.” He demonstrated. “Understand?”

She did. “I feel silly.”

“You won’t in a minute. You’re going to enjoy this. Now kiss me again.”

The difference was a puddle versus the ocean. She delved into the sweet softness of his lips, the warm wetness of his mouth. Her hunger grew with each passing moment. She leaned into him, her fingers running through his hair, her hands sliding down his spine and roaming the expanse of his back. Although his mouth was as soft as the grass beneath them, his body was rigid as steel.

It annoyed her that at such a moment of pleasure, he still could be distant. She wanted him to lose control. She darted her tongue in his mouth. His resulting groan only hinted at the passion she’d tapped into. He wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her close, the buttons of his shirt biting into her chest. He suddenly pulled away and stared at her, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

“Trust me,” she whispered against his lips.

His mouth covered hers like an avalanche—overwhelming, fast, and furious. She fell backward, her fingers grasping his collar and bringing the heat of his body on top of her. She could feel the tiger prowling, pacing back and forth, still locked in its cage. Despite his control, she could feel her body respond to him, feel the hardening of her nipples, the gathering moisture between her legs. She wanted him.

“We should go,” he murmured.

She nibbled on his lower lip. They quickly forgot the comment. The loud honk of a passing car jerked him back, reminding them where they were.

He jumped to his feet and pulled her up next to him in one effortless tug. “We have to go now.” He picked up his jacket and walked away.

She followed.

Oh, God, what must he think of me?
 
She was supposed to be subtle, suave, charming, yet she had jumped on him as though he were a new mattress. No, that was a bad analogy; it only led to dangerous thoughts. What had happened? What was wrong with her? She would never be able to look at him again without thinking of his mouth. What a mouth! She wouldn’t mind having it explore all her erogenous zones. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She didn’t expect to be like that, a woman that thought about sex every time she looked at a man. She didn’t love him or anything, and she wasn’t brought up to want a man solely for his body. It wasn’t proper. She was overexcited because it was her first time with a man, any man. She had to make allowance for that. She just wasn’t sure how to act. She glanced at him—the granite jaw, piercing eyes. The mask was back in place. She would be casual about it.

“It was the weather,” she muttered as they rode the elevator. It had to be the heat and excitement of a game.

He turned to her. “What?”

She stared ahead, still unable to look directly at him. “I left my sweater in your office. I was just reminding myself.”

“Oh.” Kenneth stepped out of the elevator, then held the office door open for her.
He should apologize
. She had offered him a simple kiss, and he had turned it into much more. Too bad he wasn’t going to; he didn’t feel in the mood to be a hypocrite.

Jessie grabbed her sweater off the back of the chair, eager to leave, then she stopped. She wouldn’t run away from him. She had to behave as if it were no big deal. She looked at a stack of memos on his desk, then leaned over to see what he had on the screen.

Kenneth sat down and offered her a dry smile. “Can I help you?”

She looked at him. “You’re typing letters?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Don’t you have someone to do that for you?”

He glanced down and saw a grass stain on his shirt. He would have to change. “I can do it.”

“That doesn’t mean someone else can’t. Ask Mrs. Mathew.”

“I’m sure she has better things to do.”

“Then ask Janet, Claire, or Brooke.”

He rubbed his chin. “It’s complicated.”

Jessie rested her hands on the table and leaned forward. “How complicated?”

He hesitated. His eyes focused on the way the front of her shirt fell forward, revealing her cleavage. “Take a seat.”

“Why?”

Why? Because when you lean over my desk that way, I can see right down your blouse, and it’s damned distracting.
 
“I just thought you’d be more comfortable.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

He tried to glance away, but his eyes kept returning to the delicious crevice between her breasts. He saw a trickle of sweat make a river down her neck and rest in the ravine. He wondered what she tasted like there.

“Let’s just say that I’m doing someone a flavor—” He shook his head. “A favor.”

Jessie leaned closer. “Meaning?”

He decided to stare at the computer screen. “Okay, to be honest, a guy who helped me with some capital asked me to hire his daughter and her friend. Their résumés looked strong, so I said sure.”

“And they’ve been a useless piece of furniture ever since,” she concluded.

“I wouldn’t say that. Stephanie and Brooke came as an extra bonus.”

“Because their father owned the company?”

He nodded.

“It’s not fair.” Jessie pushed herself off the desk. Kenneth sighed, wiping the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead. “I work hard, trying to go above and beyond my duty, and I get fired, while they get cushy jobs.”

He shrugged.

Jessie looked at the pile of papers on his desk. “I can do them for you.”

“No, I can do them myself.”

She gathered the notes together and took them. “You’re welcome.”

“My handwriting’s a little messy.”

She squinted at one of the letters. “A little messy? A rat has better penmanship.”

He leaned back in his chair. “This, coming from a woman whose handwriting was so bad that teachers thought she was writing in a foreign language?”

Jessie flinched. “I know. My mother used to make me write in those stupid handwriting books.” She stuffed the papers into an empty manila folder. “You know this will cost you another expensive lunch.”

“I know.” He groaned. “Next time would you not order the wine?”

She grinned and opened the door.

“Jasmine.” He straightened his desk set. “Look, I’m—”

She walked up to his desk, tossing down the manila folder. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

He blinked, then his mouth spread into a sensuous grin. “I hadn’t planned to.”

“Good.” She leaned across the desk until their noses touched. “Because I know you’re not sorry.” She kissed him, softly and slowly. “I’m not.” She drew back and picked up the manila envelope, hoping he didn’t notice her fingers trembling.

“You just made a big mistake,” he said in a deep tone.

She boldly met his eyes. “I did?”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

He came from around his desk. His eyes had a sheen of purpose. “Because you’re playing with fire.”

She raised a brow. “So are you.”

“I like the heat.”

She sent him a mischievous grin. “And I like to play.”

“Then we’re even.”

He claimed her lips and crushed her body to his, this time letting his hands roam free. He wouldn’t let her go anytime soon, not when he’d waited so long to visit the delights she kept hidden from view. His hands loosened her blouse from the constraints of her jeans and slid up her shirt, capturing her breasts.

Jessie moaned, closing her eyes. Nothing would distract her from the exquisite pleasure. His lips were gentle and soft, like the touch of candy floss against the tongue, melting into the same sweetness. She had expected to feel wild, naughty, and reckless in his arms. The sense of security was unnerving. How could she feel so safe in his arms? Safe, in the arms of a man who had probably held numerous other women this way? She pushed the thoughts aside. All that mattered was this moment and the new sensations she’d never even imagined.

He pulled her down on the floor and drew her blouse over her head. She rested back on the rug, ignoring the coarse feel against her skin. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, eager to explore him and discover things she didn’t know. She silently swore when she discovered he had on an undershirt, but let her hands trail a path down his chest, watching the muscles constrict under her fingers. Her curious hands descended to the hard bulge in his trousers.

“You’d better watch those hands,” Kenneth warned, against her neck, “or you’ll get more than you expected.” He unlatched her bra and captured her hard nipple his mouth, allowing his tongue to roll around her nipple. Jessie bit back a moan, not wanting to alert anyone outside the office to their activity. She arched her back, rubbing her lower body against him.

The buzzer rang.

“Trouble’s coming,” Mrs. Mathew warned. “Tanya’s on her way.”

Kenneth swore; Jessie jumped.

He grabbed his shirt, buttoned it, and stuffed it into his trousers with such speed that he could have broken a world record. Jessie, unable to find where Kenneth had thrown her top, barely had enough time to duck behind the couch before the doors swung open.

“Why haven’t you called me, Kenneth?” Tanya asked in a petulant voice.

“Was I supposed to call you?” His voice was cool. No one would have suspected he had a half-naked woman behind the couch.

She stomped her foot, like a child ready to throw a tantrum. “Yes, to invite me to the ball.”

“Oh, right. I’m not even sure I’m going, so you’re free to go with someone else.”

“But you have to take me. I’ve got this dress you’re going to love.” She began to describe the dress in detail.

“That sounds great,” he interrupted. “A gorgeous dress like that shouldn’t be wasted on me.”

“But Kenneth—!”

“I have work to do now. I’ll ring you later.”

“You promise?”

“I’ll try.”

Jessie heard him lead Tanya to the door and close it.

A moment passed before he came over to the couch. He rested his hands on the back and grinned down at her like a smug Cheshire cat. “You definitely are an athlete. I never saw a woman move so fast.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” she asked, envious of his neat attire. His appearance gave no hint to what he’d been up to.

“No, I’m just a fast learner.”

She doubted that, but didn’t wish to pry. “Was that the infant?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She began to stand, but decided against it. She continued to cover her bare chest. “Could you please hand me my clothes?”

He shook his head, his face thoughtful. “No, I don’t think I will. I like you this way.”

“Kenneth!”

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

She glared at him.

He sighed dramatically. “All right.” He retrieved her things. “Why don’t you get a top in your own size?” he asked, tossing it to her.

“I need my bra too, please.”

He held it out in front of him. It was a nice peach color. “I think I’ll keep it as a souvenir.”

Jessie slipped into her top and held out her hand. “You’ll have a black eye as a souvenir if you don’t hand it over.”

He draped the bra around his neck. “I just might risk it.”

She lunged for it, but he held it above his head, out of reach. She leaped up and tried to grab it. He switched it to his other hand.

“Give it back.”

His arm slid around her waist, drawing her close. “Keep jumping. I like the sensation.”

She stilled. “You’re impossible.”

She tried to tickle him, but his grin only grew wider. “I’m not ticklish, remember?”

“I’m warning you.” She reached for it again.

He switched hands. “Come on, Jas. I’m sure you have plenty of others. This would be my first.”

The door swung open.

Kenneth stood still, giving Jessie the chance to grab her bra. But she snatched it so fast that she lost her grip and it sailed across the room, landing on Mrs. Mathew’s clipboard.

“Mr. Preston, I have your—” She stopped and glanced down at what was in front of her.

Jessie yanked it off the clipboard. “I beg your pardon.”

Mrs. Mathew took a step back, her features a model of composure. “Forgive me, Mr. Preston, I didn’t realize you were occupied.”

“We’re almost done here,” Kenneth said, as though finishing a meeting with a business associate.

She nodded and closed the door.

Jessie refused to look at him. She fastened her bra and adjusted her shirt, then attempted to smooth back her hair. When she felt she had dealt with the embarrassment of the situation, she turned to say good-bye. She didn’t get the chance. Kenneth was doubled over in laughter.