Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me
Page 43
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Please, God, let him be there, she prayed. But really, she was mostly praying that he'd still love her.
IT TOOK LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES for Jack to decide he wasn't good at feeling sorry for himself. Yes, his world had crumbled when Rose had left. Yes, he had a hole in his heart the size of a fist. But he was going to get on with life, because he had no other choice. More important, he was going to figure out a way to win Rose back. Until then, he'd have to suck it up and deal.
''Anyone want a soda from the bar?" he asked as he stepped through the swinging door into the restaurant. And nearly collided with a chocolate cake. Held by the woman he loved.
Hope flared so suddenly in his chest that he lost his breath. But Rose had had that effect on him the first moment he'd set eyes on her. She'd simply taken his breath away. For now and always. Her eyes were bright with un-shed tears, and her mouth was tight around the corners. She held the lopsided cake out to and said, in that whispery little voice that did all sorts of things to his insides, "I made this. For you:'
Jack dipped one finger into the frosting, then sucked it off. "I love it" he said, but they both knew what he was really saying.
"I love you' Rose said, beating him to it. ''And I'm sorry'
He could tell she wanted to say more, but he couldn't let her. She was his now, and they'd work everything out slowly, over the next sixty years or so.
"'What did I say about apologizing to me?" he said, grinning at her like a lovesick fool, taking the cake from her, and putting it on nearby table.
"That you're going to have to bend me over your knee for a spanking.'
Jack pulled her against him, and just as he felt her breath on his lips, he said, "I love you, Rose' They kissed like long-lost lovers, unable to get enough of each other. "Now;' he said, as he picked up the cake with one hand and grabbed her hand with the other, pulling her out the door and down the road to his house, get ready for that spanking.'
TOUCH ME
ONE
VANESSA COLLINS UNFOLDED HER TANNED LIMBS and stretched out on the chaise lounge by the sparkling blue pool at the Napa Valley Hotel & Spa. She sipped from a half-full glass of champagne, then set it down on the round table beside her chair.
Sliding her Chanel sunglasses off, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the mesh fabric. The Friday afternoon sun was warm as it caressed her skin, she looked hot in her tiny white bikini, and a young, muscular waiter
had just refilled her glass. She was going to hang with her two best friends, Carrie and Rose, tomorrow. Everything was perfect.
So, then, why did she feel so disgruntled? Not to mention bored out of her mind.
Vanessa sat up and blinked open her eyes, inadvertently catching every male within a fifty-foot radius devouring her before .they could avert their eyes. She waited for the rush to come, the heady power of knowing she could have anyone of these men married or not-in her bed inside of five minutes. Ten seconds later, she was sick of waiting. There was no rush anymore. It was too damn easy. What was the fun of luring a man into her web when there wasn't any luring that needed to be done? She lifted the slim champagne glass to her lips and chugged the rest, but for some reason, even a bubbly buzz wasn't making a difference in her mood. It wasn't mellowing her out, and it certainly wasn't making any of the men by the pool look more appetizing.
What was wrong with her?
Maybe, she mused, it had something to do with Carrie being such a huge downer on the ride from San Francisco to Napa. A pang of guilt hit her right beneath her ribs. It wasn't Carrie's fault that she'd been dating such a prissy, rich jerk for two years. And that she hadn't had the sense to dump him until he was shoving a four-carat diamond onto her ring finger.
Vanessa and Carrie hadn't always seen eye to eye, but they'd always been there for each other. This time was no exception, even if Carrie was walking around with a big fat diamond in her pocket. Vanessa had never been the jealous type. Frankly, she'd had no reason for envy. At thirty-two, she'd built up a wildly successful PR firm in the city, she was gorgeous, and she'd always gotten whatever she wanted-be it a man or the biggest contract in town. She'd always thought herself immune from jealousy and could hardly believe it.
She was jealous of her two best friends.
First, Carrie with that ring even if she was giving it back) and then Rose winning a date with that gorgeous chef, Jack Gerard. Vanessa still couldn't believe that Rose had almost turned down the opportunity to take cooking lessons from a hot, hunky chef on the rise. Especially since Vanessa knew exactly what she would have done with those "lessons;' and it wouldn't have had anything to do with a kitchen.
Something stirred deep in her gut. That guilt thing again. Why couldn't she let Rose have some good luck for once? She loved Rose dearly, but she'd always thought that she was far too insecure, far too afraid to take a risk. Which was why Rose was such a great accountant, of course. No risk there.
Feeling more bitchy than usual, Vanessa forced her mind away from the naughty image of Jack Gerard naked and tanned beneath crisp white sheets, away from huge, sparkling jewels.
She needed to do something to get her energy back on track. Something other than lounging by the pool, fending off admirers. If she wasn't mistaken (and she never was), mister forty-and newly-divorced was making his way over to her chaise lounge. It was all the push she needed, and ten minutes later, wearing a tiny pair of white running shorts and a white jog bra, Vanessa sauntered through the lobby and out into the soon-to-be-setting sun. Every eye was on her. Even the women whose husbands were ogling her couldn't help but admire her slim, toned muscles, her tanned thighs and calves, her tight stomach, her lush red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Still, Vanessa wasn't happy.
Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. She hoped a long run through the grapevines would clear her head and bring her some answers. Vanessa knew she was successful because she made plans and she stuck to them. This weekend, the plan was to hang with the girls and to have a weekend fling with a hot piece of ass that she never planned to see again. Vanessa had no intention of letting anything throw her off course. Especially not something that felt like unmanaged emotions. She didn't do unmanaged emotions. Carrie and Rose rode the roller coaster enough for all three of them anymore. It was too damn easy. What was the fun of luring a man into her web when there wasn't any luring that needed to be done?
She lifted the slim champagne glass to her lips and chugged the rest, but for some reason, even a bubbly buzz wasn't making a difference in her mood. It wasn't mellowing her out, and it certainly wasn't making any of the men by the pool look more appetizing.
IT TOOK LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES for Jack to decide he wasn't good at feeling sorry for himself. Yes, his world had crumbled when Rose had left. Yes, he had a hole in his heart the size of a fist. But he was going to get on with life, because he had no other choice. More important, he was going to figure out a way to win Rose back. Until then, he'd have to suck it up and deal.
''Anyone want a soda from the bar?" he asked as he stepped through the swinging door into the restaurant. And nearly collided with a chocolate cake. Held by the woman he loved.
Hope flared so suddenly in his chest that he lost his breath. But Rose had had that effect on him the first moment he'd set eyes on her. She'd simply taken his breath away. For now and always. Her eyes were bright with un-shed tears, and her mouth was tight around the corners. She held the lopsided cake out to and said, in that whispery little voice that did all sorts of things to his insides, "I made this. For you:'
Jack dipped one finger into the frosting, then sucked it off. "I love it" he said, but they both knew what he was really saying.
"I love you' Rose said, beating him to it. ''And I'm sorry'
He could tell she wanted to say more, but he couldn't let her. She was his now, and they'd work everything out slowly, over the next sixty years or so.
"'What did I say about apologizing to me?" he said, grinning at her like a lovesick fool, taking the cake from her, and putting it on nearby table.
"That you're going to have to bend me over your knee for a spanking.'
Jack pulled her against him, and just as he felt her breath on his lips, he said, "I love you, Rose' They kissed like long-lost lovers, unable to get enough of each other. "Now;' he said, as he picked up the cake with one hand and grabbed her hand with the other, pulling her out the door and down the road to his house, get ready for that spanking.'
TOUCH ME
ONE
VANESSA COLLINS UNFOLDED HER TANNED LIMBS and stretched out on the chaise lounge by the sparkling blue pool at the Napa Valley Hotel & Spa. She sipped from a half-full glass of champagne, then set it down on the round table beside her chair.
Sliding her Chanel sunglasses off, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the mesh fabric. The Friday afternoon sun was warm as it caressed her skin, she looked hot in her tiny white bikini, and a young, muscular waiter
had just refilled her glass. She was going to hang with her two best friends, Carrie and Rose, tomorrow. Everything was perfect.
So, then, why did she feel so disgruntled? Not to mention bored out of her mind.
Vanessa sat up and blinked open her eyes, inadvertently catching every male within a fifty-foot radius devouring her before .they could avert their eyes. She waited for the rush to come, the heady power of knowing she could have anyone of these men married or not-in her bed inside of five minutes. Ten seconds later, she was sick of waiting. There was no rush anymore. It was too damn easy. What was the fun of luring a man into her web when there wasn't any luring that needed to be done? She lifted the slim champagne glass to her lips and chugged the rest, but for some reason, even a bubbly buzz wasn't making a difference in her mood. It wasn't mellowing her out, and it certainly wasn't making any of the men by the pool look more appetizing.
What was wrong with her?
Maybe, she mused, it had something to do with Carrie being such a huge downer on the ride from San Francisco to Napa. A pang of guilt hit her right beneath her ribs. It wasn't Carrie's fault that she'd been dating such a prissy, rich jerk for two years. And that she hadn't had the sense to dump him until he was shoving a four-carat diamond onto her ring finger.
Vanessa and Carrie hadn't always seen eye to eye, but they'd always been there for each other. This time was no exception, even if Carrie was walking around with a big fat diamond in her pocket. Vanessa had never been the jealous type. Frankly, she'd had no reason for envy. At thirty-two, she'd built up a wildly successful PR firm in the city, she was gorgeous, and she'd always gotten whatever she wanted-be it a man or the biggest contract in town. She'd always thought herself immune from jealousy and could hardly believe it.
She was jealous of her two best friends.
First, Carrie with that ring even if she was giving it back) and then Rose winning a date with that gorgeous chef, Jack Gerard. Vanessa still couldn't believe that Rose had almost turned down the opportunity to take cooking lessons from a hot, hunky chef on the rise. Especially since Vanessa knew exactly what she would have done with those "lessons;' and it wouldn't have had anything to do with a kitchen.
Something stirred deep in her gut. That guilt thing again. Why couldn't she let Rose have some good luck for once? She loved Rose dearly, but she'd always thought that she was far too insecure, far too afraid to take a risk. Which was why Rose was such a great accountant, of course. No risk there.
Feeling more bitchy than usual, Vanessa forced her mind away from the naughty image of Jack Gerard naked and tanned beneath crisp white sheets, away from huge, sparkling jewels.
She needed to do something to get her energy back on track. Something other than lounging by the pool, fending off admirers. If she wasn't mistaken (and she never was), mister forty-and newly-divorced was making his way over to her chaise lounge. It was all the push she needed, and ten minutes later, wearing a tiny pair of white running shorts and a white jog bra, Vanessa sauntered through the lobby and out into the soon-to-be-setting sun. Every eye was on her. Even the women whose husbands were ogling her couldn't help but admire her slim, toned muscles, her tanned thighs and calves, her tight stomach, her lush red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Still, Vanessa wasn't happy.
Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. She hoped a long run through the grapevines would clear her head and bring her some answers. Vanessa knew she was successful because she made plans and she stuck to them. This weekend, the plan was to hang with the girls and to have a weekend fling with a hot piece of ass that she never planned to see again. Vanessa had no intention of letting anything throw her off course. Especially not something that felt like unmanaged emotions. She didn't do unmanaged emotions. Carrie and Rose rode the roller coaster enough for all three of them anymore. It was too damn easy. What was the fun of luring a man into her web when there wasn't any luring that needed to be done?
She lifted the slim champagne glass to her lips and chugged the rest, but for some reason, even a bubbly buzz wasn't making a difference in her mood. It wasn't mellowing her out, and it certainly wasn't making any of the men by the pool look more appetizing.
