“Hey.” She grasped it between her breasts, held on to it for dear life. If she moved, the sheet would stay with him, falling away from her body.
She was
“Lie back down,” he said softly from just behind her, his breath rustling the hair over her ear. “I’ll cover you.”
Unable to let go, she shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Go on,” he said with a tone she hadn’t heard from him before: tenderness.
Craning her head, she looked back at him. His eyes flickered with a tenseness that matched hers, but in a blink it was gone.
“Lie back down,” he said. “You don’t want to waste all the relaxing you’ve done.”
“Too late,” she muttered.
With infinite patience, he waited her out.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and then let go of the sheet.
He surprised her, holding the sheet up between them, blocking his view of her as she lay down. Then it fluttered over her, covering her from midback to midthigh, and she let out a breath, only to have it clog her throat when he stroked a hand down her back, reactivating the oil, heating her up in an instant.
She kept her eyes tightly closed, concentrating on what he made her feel, but unable to let go of the tenseness she’d seen in his expression when he’d first walked in. “Jacob?”
“Hmm?”
Over the sheet, his fingers moved on her lower back, pressing lightly in just the right spot to make her want to stretch and purr like a kitten. “Are you…okay?”
Ignoring her question, he moved up her spine and then back down again. “You smell like something a man might want to gobble up.”
“You’re changing the subject-” She broke off to moan when he got to her shoulders and dug in.
“Good?” he asked.
So good she’d beg if he stopped. “Please talk to me.”
He sighed as his fingers made their way back down her spine, slowly, with unbelievable talent. “You have a one-track mind.”
And so, she was willing to bet, did he. “Talk.”
He skimmed over her bottom, which had her clenching her cheeks, but he didn’t stay and linger, not until he got to the backs of her thighs. While he worked there, another helpless moan fluttered out of her lips before she could stop herself.
“Why don’t you just concentrate on the pleasure?” he asked. “Stop holding back.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
She already knew that. “Try me.”
One finger traced a silky path up the back of her thigh to the very edge of the sheet, and then a little farther. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
She tried to turn over so she could see him but he held her down with one big, warm hand at the middle of her spine. “No, don’t move. Just stay on your stomach. I’ll go. Your attendant will be back in a few.”
“But…”
But nothing. Whether it had been her reaction, or that he felt he’d said too much, he was gone.
Letting her cheek touch the table again, she lay there, mind racing, body aching, heart pounding, pounding, pounding.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Well, that made them even.
8
To: Spa attendants
From: Spa manager
Re: Herbal wraps
New as of today! Stay in room once herbal wrap is applied to keep guest relaxed and immobile. Otherwise, the linens apparently may unravel and fall off.
“THEY’RE HOLDING open auditions here today for some new cooking show.”
This was what Jacob heard the next day when he got to his kitchen. Pushing open the doors, he found Caya and two other servers gathered around, talking.
Caya grinned at him. “Did you hear?”
“Yeah,” he managed to say without a grimace. “I’ve heard.” Though due to his own stubbornness, he knew none of the details. He didn’t want the details. He wanted things to go back to normal.
“Maybe I should try out,” Caya said. “I could become famous, and give you a run for your money.”
“No one gives me a run for my money,” Jacob said.
Everyone laughed, and they all got to work, but late that afternoon, he sneaked out of the kitchen and headed to the conference level. There he found a long line of chef hopefuls in the hallway holding resumes in their fists, wearing eager expressions on their faces. He moved past them, ignoring the softly muttered grumblings when they thought he was cutting in line to get his shot at stardom.
Not a chance.
But as to why he was there, he couldn’t have said. He honestly had no desire to be on a TV show, to be the “it” boy of the week, to have people watch his every move as if he were performing brain surgery.
He loved what he did too much to turn it into a spectacle. He loved all of it: the physical skills, the easy joy, the variety and the choices. It fed his heart and soul. And after too many years of being forced to prove himself, being evaluated at the blink of an eye, never knowing how long his job would remain his, he just couldn’t imagine willingly putting himself there again, this time at the mercy of an intangible thing like ratings, or the invisible Powers-That- Be.
No, he was here merely to satisfy his curiosity and nothing else, and with that in mind, he walked to the double doors of their largest conference room.
Standing there was a man holding a radio and a clipboard.
Jacob recognized him as one of the two people who’d accompanied Em to dinner at Amuse Bouche two nights ago. “Eric,” he said, remembering.
Eric looked up from the clipboard and raised a brow. “You want an audition?”
“No.”
“So then why are you here?”
Hell if he knew. “Is Em inside?”
“Yep.” But Eric stepped in front of him. “Sorry, man. Only people who are auditioning can get in there.”
“I want to talk to Em.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because whatever you’ve said or done to her already has left her feeling shaky. Now she’s in there trying to save her career and I’m not going to have you screw with her head.”
“You do realize she’s the one who lied to me, right?”
“Not lied exactly,” Eric corrected. “Just a slight omission is all.”
Jacob raised a brow.
“Look, just leave her alone to do this, okay?”
“Are you her husband?” Jacob asked.
“What? No, of course not.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No.”
