Just a Little White Lie(48)

She grabbed her wineglass in both hands and drained it, then held it up to Marsha. She needed another. And maybe a few more after that.

She’d fallen into the deep end of the pool and was going under.





Chapter Fifteen




The ride home was quiet. The radio played softly, and the air carried the smell of impending rain. Lucinda laid her head against the seat and watched a low, dark cloud scurry across the face of the moon. The leaves of the silvered trees along the side of the road fluttered in the slight breeze. The Jeep’s headlights pierced the darkness, a darkness so much thicker, so much more absolute than in the city. It felt as though she and Jake might be the only two living beings on the planet.

Her mind was a quagmire. How had she not known what her father and Donald were up to in Mississippi? Had they hidden it that well, or was she so self-involved she simply hadn’t seen it? Or hadn’t wanted to see it?

And now this phony engagement. She sighed. Everything in her life was a sham. A façade. Everything except this way-too-sexy guy beside her. She rolled her head on the seat to look at Jake. She wanted him. Wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

But once she’d tasted the forbidden fruit— She stopped. He wasn’t really forbidden fruit, was he? They were two healthy, unattached adults.

She would have him. For this one night. Determination settled deep inside her.

Then, like Scarlett O’Hara, she’d deal with tomorrow.

A tomorrow that included a date with Marsha for a quick but thorough makeover. Good old Shorty was about to be stood on his head. She might not be able to do anything about her own love life, but by darned, she’d light a fire between those two and even fan it a couple times if need be. Though she doubted seriously she’d have to do that.

Once she finished with Marsha, Mother Nature should take care of the rest.

When they reached Jake’s house, she walked through the door ahead of him. Waited for him to make a move. He didn’t, just tossed his keys in the hall table dish and asked if she needed anything before he turned in.

Oh, she needed something all right.

But Jake looked tired, and her resolve wavered. With a quick peck on the cheek, he disappeared down the hall and into his bedroom.

Maybe that was better. It was certainly less complicated.

After the night they’d had, it might be better all around if they both simply retreated into their own corners.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth and hesitated, one hand on her pajamas. Bypassing them, she slid into Jake’s faded T-shirt, sighed as its softness surrounded her. Then she slid beneath the cool sheets and turned out the light.

Once in bed, though, she tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. Unable to turn off her thoughts. Unable to quiet the hunger that gnawed at her. A hunger for Jake. For his touch, his kisses, for him.

Indecision tormented her. Did Jake want her? Or was she imagining his interest? If she went to him, would she make a fool of herself?

She slapped her forehead. How many times had she gone through this kind of self-doubt? Let insecurity eat away at her? Problem was, she was Lucinda Darling. Daughter of a business icon. Wealthy enough to do whatever, whenever she wanted.

On paper, that all sounded great. But with it came a price. Because of who her dad was, because of his financial portfolio, she could never, ever be sure if someone befriended or made a romantic move because of true interest in her, Lucinda the person, or in how he or she might benefit from a relationship with her.

But Jake wasn’t like that. He’d stopped to help before he had a clue who the stranded motorist was.

She bit her lip. Still, she should probably wait for him to take the initiative.

No. Who said the guy had to make the first move? Where was that written? Nowhere, that’s where. There was no rule book.

Tossing aside her rumpled and twisted covers, she slipped out of bed. In her honeymoon suitcase, she had several beautifully sexy, expensive negligees. But they’d been bought with Donald in mind, and they weren’t what she wanted. They weren’t right for tonight. For Jake.

Flicking on a small lamp, she rooted around in the closet till she uncovered the dress shirt he’d given her earlier. Perfect.

She flung his old tee over the back of a straight-backed chair and felt the whisper of the cotton broadcloth as it slid over her. She did up the middle button but left the rest undone. Stepping out of her thong, she tossed it with the tee. A thrill ran through her. Both at her daring and at the idea of Jake’s hands, his fingers, his mouth sliding along her overheated skin.

She ran her fingers through her hair, still wild from the open-air Jeep ride, and touched the barest hint of lip gloss to her mouth. A single spritz of her favorite perfume, and she was good to go.