Heat Exchange(21)

[Nyall Anderson] Just tell him to write his own check. One hour.



[Amy Ellen Winch] You serious?



[Nyall Anderson] She won't listen to me. I don't want her leaving. I was supposed to have her the whole week.



[Amy Ellen Winch] Po boy. I'm tempted to come too now and witness this.



[Nyall Anderson] You're busy.



[Amy Ellen Winch] I'll find a way. Gotta meet the chick that made the legendary Nyall Anderson wax poetic.



[Nyall Anderson] She'll go ballistic when she sees you.



[Amy Ellen Winch] Why?



[Nyall Anderson] She thinks you're made for me. She's always telling me to call you.



[Amy Ellen Winch] Ha. You were a thundering good lay though. Who knew?



[Nyall Anderson] Right back at you. So you guys will come?



[Amy Ellen Winch] I promise to try. Might be two hours.



[Nyall Anderson] Start delegating now.



[Amy Ellen Winch] Yessir.



[Nyall Anderson] Thanks Amy.



[Amy Ellen Winch] Hey no prob.





***

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Janey was sitting at the kitchen table staring at the oven timer when it went off. She got up to reset it for an hour, then turned off the oven and took her seat again.

She could hear Nyall moving around the condo, but she hadn't seen him since he'd caught her right as she'd lugged her suitcase and totes to the front door and stiffly asked her to remain long enough to finish baking the cheesecake. She had refused; he'd said something sarcastic about promises; reluctantly she'd changed her mind.

Janey sighed. She didn't know why Nyall cared that much about the cheesecake. She had the feeling he was using the excuse to keep her there a little longer. She didn't know why he was doing that.

But she did know she wasn't going to stick around to the end. That would mean hours more of miserable loitering and she was tired of sniffling pathetically in Nyall's kitchen. She dug a piece of paper out of her purse and scribbled out instructions for spreading on the sour cream topping and making the strawberry syrup.

"What are you doing?"

She looked up. Nyall was standing in the entranceway scowling at her. "Writing you a note. You need to wait for the cheesecake to chill when it comes out of the oven and then put on the toppings. I forgot to tell you all that before." Because I was so eager to get to the end of the game. Oh, how times change.

With the memory of how wonderful things had been just a few hours ago, Janey discovered she did have more saline left to spare despite what she'd thought; new tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. She pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose loudly.

"Janey, will you stop crying? You don't need to go."

"Yes, I do."

"I want you to stay," he said baldly.

"No," she said.

"Look, this whole thing is ridiculous. If you really think you have nothing important to contribute to this arrangement, we'll work something out. Though you're wrong about that."

She shook her head, pressing her lips tightly together. This pressuring Nyall was hard to fight.

He said gently, "Put this stuff away. Come into the bedroom and lie down with me. I'll hold you and we'll both feel better."

"I don't know why you're making this hard for me, Nyall, but please stop."

"All right." He fixed a hard gaze on her. "I want you to stay a little longer. I've asked a couple of guests over."

"Guests?" she echoed in dismay and shoved her chair back. "Oh, no, I have to go now."

"They're for you and me, Janey. If we can't come to an arrangement on our own, then we're getting help. We'll do this the hard way if that's the only way."

"Do what?" She was bewildered. "We're all done. There's nothing more to do."

"Fix this. I want you here. And despite what you're saying, you want to be here, too. Otherwise, why would you be crying? We both made mistakes but we're going to move past that with the help of some professional negotiation. I've hired an expert in conflict resolution."

Janey's jaw dropped. She couldn't have been more astonished if he'd said he'd hired a surgeon to remove an extraterrestrial from her brain.

"But why?" she said. "Why would you do something like that?"

"Time, Janey." He knelt down by her chair and stroked her jaw. "If you go now, we lose precious time. I haven't been able to schedule a vacation like this since I sold my first startup. I have a week for you. After that, it's an hour or two here and there and that's not enough."

"Enough for what?" She shook her head to clear it. "You don't have to give me any hours. I don't expect to see you again. You already did what you said you would. I don't feel like a virgin anymore."

His mouth tightened. "That's good, I think. But we still haven't gone the whole hog. Until I put my cock inside you, you're still not going to be absolutely, a hundred percent sure you're ready for sex. Are you?"

When he put it like that, so softly, caressing her earlobe with his fingers, she almost believed…

"No!" She stood up, glaring. "Nyall Anderson, you're using unfair tactics on me. You really are the hardboiled businessman I first thought you were, aren't you?"

When he rose to his feet again, the chill was back in his eyes. "Amy and her friend will be here soon. You're staying until then at least."

"Amy? You asked Amy here already?" Her eyes bulged. "Wait, is she the expert on conflict resolution that you called?"

"No, her friend is."

"Oh." Janey stared at him.

"It's not what you're thinking," he said with exasperation.

"What am I thinking?" She blushed.

"You're thinking I called Amy so I can fuck her."

She nodded.

"Well, you're wrong."

"But you should," she said wisely. "After I'm gone, you'll need some sexual release. You'll see."

"I'm hoping we won't get to the point of testing that," he said, sounding annoyed. "Will you go wash your face and comb your hair? You look like you've been thrown on a table and fucked hard."

"Boy, you really had me with that tender act," she said, sniffing. "Being all nice and gentle when really you just want to give orders. I'm only doing this because I want to meet Amy."

She went beyond what he suggested, showering, dressing in a blouse and pants, then combing her hair after doing a cursory search for a blow dryer, which she didn't normally use.

She was looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror when the door opened and Nyall walked in without warning.

"Hey. What if I hadn't been dressed?"

"Then I'd faint from the shock," he said, returning her frown. "It's not like I had my mouth all over your pussy just a little while ago. Oh, wait."

"That's not funny." Her eyes stung that he would make fun of her now.

He came behind her, so achingly beautiful as he gazed at her reflection that she had to look away. "You're primping?"

"I'm trying to decide if I should pluck my eyebrows and put on makeup," she explained. "Makeup makes my skin itch. And I didn't bring a tweezers. I didn't expect to get slivers here."

"Why would you want to do all that now?"

"Because I don't want to disappoint Amy. "

"Disappoint her?"

She waved her hand. "Your mistresses are glamorous. I saw pictures on the Internet. Well, I didn't see Amy, but most of them. I don't look anything like them."

"Why should you?" He sounded cross.

"I want her to think I belong," Janey said. "I don't want her to think I'm here because you were sorry for me. I guess she knows that anyway, though. Plus it's dishonest to try to pretend I'm the kind of girl that plucks her eyebrows."

"Dammit to hell, Janey. You didn't pluck your eyebrows for me. You didn't even trim your pussy. What do you care if Amy thinks you don't look like my mistr—sex partners."

"Trim my pussy?" Her eyes widened. "Are your sex partners supposed to do that? I didn't know."

"No!" He sounded so explosive she jerked back. "You're just supposed to do what you did. I'm teaching you everything you need to know. All right?"

"Were, Nyall," she said sadly. "Were teaching me."

"Janey," he said warningly. "I'm very close to just—" He broke off at the sound of a discreet but unmistakable buzzer.

"Is that them at the door?" She tensed.

"Probably." He tilted her chin up and fixed her eyes intently with his. "You don't need to look like anything but you. I don't give a shit what Amy thinks. She wanted to meet you but you don't need to act like anyone else."

"She did? Want to meet me?" Janey brightened. "Hurry, let her in, Nyall."





Chapter 10




Janey lurked behind him as he opened the door. Out in the hallway a lanky black-haired man even taller than Nyall stood next to the most beautiful woman Janey had ever seen. She blinked, awed. This was Amy?

Mentally, Janey had envisioned a perky, cute young woman, maybe with a nose ring and combat boots.

Nuh-uh. Amy looked like all the other women pictured with Nyall on Internet photos, only more so.

Statuesque, with dark auburn hair styled shorter on one side, matching colored glasses and wearing a tailored black suit, Amy was this short of passing for a Parisian runway model. Her figure was incredible, her makeup striking, and her jewelry eclectic. Aside from a tic in her right shoulder that made her purse swing wildly, she was everything Janey had ever wished she could be.