The Billionaire Bodyguard(25)

'Keri,' he said smoothly. 'What a surprise.'

She stood there and looked at him. She certainly wasn't going to force an entrance.

'Come in.'

'Thank you.'

She  walked inside and looked around. The apartment was huge, and had   spectacular views of the river, but it was so … so bare that it made his   office look positively overcrowded. There was essential furniture only-a   giant sofa in tough, masculine leather in the sitting room, and a   bleached oak dining table with matching chairs in the dining section.   There was a frighteningly modern kitchen, which looked like the inside   of a spacecraft, and a superb sound system, and that, basically, was   that.

It was like his office, only more so, because this was  where he lived,  for heaven's sake. But there was little in the way of  decoration, only  objects which were useful. It looked, she thought, like  a temporary  place. As if he was renting and about to leave at any time.  Transitory  and temporary. As if anyone at all could have been living  there, for  there was nothing of Jay within its four walls.

'Sit down,' he said. 'Can I get you a drink?'

Unlike him, she didn't refuse. 'Yes, please.'

She  sat down on the sofa, leaning back and trying to relax, but feeling   about as relaxed as someone on a job interview for a position they   really wanted. 'Have you lived here long?'

'Just over a year.' He could see her frowning. 'You like it?'

'I … well, yes. Yes, I do-though it's pretty basic.'

'Well, that's how I like it,' he said.

My,  but he was touchy! And she would have had to be the dumbest woman  in  the world not to read the not-so-subtle warning in that.

He  opened a bottle of white burgundy, poured out two glasses and handed  her  one, his mouth softening in a smile. 'I'm cooking some Cajun  food-ever  tried it before?'

She shook her head and sipped at her wine,  impressed yet not surprised  at his self-sufficiency. No tin-opener and a  can of beans for Jay.  'Never.'                       
       
           



       

'Then you haven't lived.'

The  wine hit her stomach, and by the time he sat her up at the table  she  realised she was very hungry. He served up a concoction of okra and   shrimps and rice, which he called Gumbo.

'Eat,' he said.

She did. It was delicious, and she gave a little moan of greed as she tucked in.

He watched her for a while. 'You're really enjoying it, aren't you?' he observed.

She looked up. 'Don't sound so surprised!'

'But I am. When I first met you, you seemed to have made food your enemy.'

'Well, not any longer! Dinner every night and sandwiches for lunch most days!'

His eyes roved over her. 'You're looking well.'

'If  by that you mean I've put on weight, then, yes, I have. I could  hardly  do up the zip of my jeans this morning.' She put her fork down  and  recklessly drank another mouthful of wine. 'God only knows what's  going  to happen when I have to go for my next modelling job!'

The statement hung in the air like a bubble waiting to burst.

'You'll have finished the painting soon,' said Jay carefully.

'That's right.' She certainly couldn't drag it out much longer.

'But you'll carry on modelling?'

He  was talking about the future, and suddenly she was scared, but she  hid  her fear in bravado. 'Of course I will-that's what I do! What did  you  imagine? That I would set myself up as an interior designer?'

'Why not? You're good.'

'Well, for a start I have no qualifications and very little experience.'

'So what?'

'Because things don't work that way, Jay, that's why not!'

She  felt frustrated now, the warmth of the wine evaporating with his  words.  She was terrified of the job ending, because she didn't know  whether  she would see him again. He hadn't said, and she was afraid to   ask … afraid of what the answer might be.

'You've stopped eating,' he said softly.

Well, damn him! Damn him for his indifference and his stubborn determination not to let her spend the night with him!

Keri pushed the plate away, stretched her arms high above her head and yawned. 'I'm tired too,' she confessed.

He  watched while the T-shirt spread tightly across her breasts, their  tips  outlined in provocative display with the dark glossy hair spilling  down  all over them. He knew what she was doing. It was a blatant   demonstration of her physical power over him. For a few moments he had a   silent tussle with himself. So, did he give in? Sometimes he liked to   deny himself, just to feel fully in control. To prove he could. And it   would certainly make it easier. If he made love to her now, he could   hardly ask her to leave …

But if she stayed, then where was that  going to lead? To more nights,  and then still more? Soon she would be  cluttering up his very masculine  bathroom with all kinds of feminine  junk and leaving drifts of lace  underwear everywhere. Then she would  start asking him what time he was  coming home and keeping tabs on him.  Very soon after that they would be  shopping at the supermarket  together-dithering over which brand of  juice to buy-and wouldn't that be  a kind of living hell?

'Come here,' he instructed silkily.

There  was something in his expression which made it impossible to  disobey  him, even if she had wanted to. And some new, hard light in his  eyes,  both cautioning and yet inviting.

Like a robot she got up and went to sink onto his lap, but he shook his head.

'No. Not yet.' His eyes glittered. 'First of all, take your clothes off.'

Keri blinked. 'Just like that?'

'Wouldn't you like to strip for me, Keri?' His voice hardened. 'I thought that was what you were working up to.'

Some  feeling like fear tiptoed down her spine. He was making her feel  like …   Like what? Like a live exhibit? A good-time girl? She looked at  him,  shaken. 'Oddly enough, no. I wouldn't.'

He raised his eyebrows,  but in his heart he knew he had been testing  her. Now she was hurt; that  much was plain. And it told him something  that maybe he had been blind  to, or had maybe simply chosen not to see.  That she saw more in what  they had than just a very enjoyable affair.  And, if they continued it,  wouldn't she get hurt even more? That was  his track record, after  all-causing pain to women because he couldn't  give them what they really  wanted.

But he saw the tremble of her lips and something inside  him melted. If  fighting it didn't seem to work, he found he didn't even  want to. He  reached out to pull her down onto his lap, because the  physical act was  easy-he could lose himself in that and forget all the  troublesome  questions which nagged at his mind.                       
       
           



       

'Kiss me,' he whispered.

For  a moment she resisted, was ice in his arms, but he drifted his  mouth to  her neck and the thaw began and there was nothing she could do  to stop  it.

Her eyes fluttered to a close. 'Oh, Jay,' she said weakly,  hating that  weakness even while his hands began to stroke her into  molten  submission.

He took her to his bedroom and took her clothes off himself, slowly-agonisingly slowly-kissing her flesh as he laid it bare.

And she tiptoed her fingers down over his torso, down over his hips, and down further still …

'Keri,' he groaned.

'What?'  This was better. The cold-eyed man had gone, and in his place  was  someone who could be as weak as she was. He loved to control-well,  now  let him be controlled.

She wriggled from beneath him and  slithered down his body, her tongue  sliding its way to his belly, loving  the way he squirmed, holding  himself tense, as if he couldn't quite  believe that she was going to …

'Oh, God-yes!' he moaned.

She  had never done it to a man before, not even with Jay, but she just   followed her instincts, her mouth gentle, caressing, teasing and   inciting. She found what he liked and then she did it some more. And   then some more.


And when at last he moved to push her head  away she wouldn't let him.  She wanted to possess that most essential  part of him in a way which  made her feel almost primitive as she tasted  the salt which was present  in blood and sweat and tears, too.

He shuddered, lost in the mists of pleasure and, for a moment, totally vulnerable.

He  lifted her off him and flipped her over onto her back, moving to lie   above her, his eyes glittering with a hectic green-grey light, his   expression unreadable. She was going to stay in his bed all night, he   realised.

'Your turn now,' he said, in an odd kind of voice.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN




JAY  seemed edgy and distracted when they showered and dressed to go to  work  the following morning, and it was obvious that he felt relieved  when  she went off to find a cab on her own, though he did his best to  hide  it.