Millionaire Playboys: Paying the Playboy's Price

Juliana collapsed against him and his arms encircled her automatically as if they’d done that before. They hadn’t. He’d never held a woman after he’d used her. But he wanted to hold Juliana, wanted to keep her close.

Trouble. Damn, he was in trouble.

He stared at the ceiling in numb silence as Juliana slipped off him and into the crook of his shoulder. His heart slowed, but his muscles didn’t relax. He couldn’t get a word past the anger and self-disgust choking him as Juliana curled her fingers on his chest. Moments later, her body went slack as sleep took her. She wouldn’t rest as easily and she sure as hell wouldn’t be wearing that satisfied smile if she knew what kind of man she’d shared her body with.

He was clean, disease free. He made damned sure of that by getting tested often. But Juliana deserved better than him. Hell, any woman deserved better than a guy who couldn’t remember the names or faces of more than a handful of his past lovers.

It had been so easy to believe the hype and the media, too easy to believe the world owed him and not the other way around. He’d taken the female fans who’d wanted to show their appreciation in a sexual way as his due. Physical release had been his drug of choice, and now that he had a hit of pure ecstasy coursing through his veins, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist the lure again.

He didn’t know how to have a healthy sexual relationship. Sure, he’d tried a few times, but monogamy hadn’t worked. He’d never stuck with one woman long because he couldn’t. He lacked the gene or the moral fiber or whatever it was that made a man capable of committing. He was flawed.

Loving Juliana—no, not loving—sex with Juliana had unleashed the beast that used women, the jackass who’d disgraced his family and himself.

His parents had never attended his concerts. The demands of the ranch had made getting away for a weekend almost impossible. Then one night, his family had surprised him after a big show. Rex hadn’t known they were there until the roadie had opened the dressing-room door to show them in.

His mother, father and sister had stopped in horrified silence on the threshold, their wide eyes going from Rex to the half-naked groupie coiled around him. Rex had quickly zipped his pants and tucked in his shirttails. But the damage had been done.

Hell, he’d been inside the woman, but he hadn’t known her name and couldn’t introduce her to his family. He’d watched realization dawn on his mother’s face quickly followed by embarrassment and shame. He’d turned to his father, expecting a guy to understand—boys will be boys and all that—but he’d seen disappointment and disgust. And then he’d looked at Kelly’s flushed face. The pride he’d always seen in his sister’s big brown eyes hadn’t been there.

Rex hadn’t been raised that way. He’d been taught since he was knee-high to respect others—especially women. And here he was doing the opposite. Using. Discarding. He’d never forget the awkward tension filling the room as the groupie had straightened her clothing, collected an autograph—because they never left without one—and then she’d squeezed out the door. His family had left right behind her without saying a word.

One sad, disapproving glance over his mother’s shoulder had said it all. Rex had become a man not even a mother could love.

He’d been ashamed of his behavior. But had he learned his lesson? No, he’d defiantly kept right on carousing right up until the day his parents had died.

Self-disgust rolled over him. Tonight he’d begun the cycle of self-destruction again. Without a doubt, he’d made a mistake in getting physical with Juliana Alden.

The question was could he undo the damage?

Or was it too late?

Juliana awoke to limbs weighted with satisfaction, a smile she couldn’t suppress and an empty bed. The latter niggled like an account entry that didn’t belong, but she brushed aside her misgivings. Last night had been amazing. Rex was the most unselfish lover she’d ever had, and he’d brought out a sensual side of her that she hadn’t known existed.

How had she made it to the age of thirty without experiencing such wonderful, levitating, delectable passion? Had to be the man. Self-service orgasms and the partners from her past just couldn’t measure up to Rex Tanner. But then he reportedly had a lot of experience pleasing women.

She cast off the strangely disturbing thought and glanced at the bedside clock. It was far too early for Rex or the girls to be up, but late enough that Juliana should consider getting ready for work soon. She didn’t want to. For the first time ever, she wanted to call in sick so she and Rex could replay last night’s passionate encounter.

Passionate. Her. Yes, her. Bubbles of anticipation floated through her bloodstream. Reality quickly and brutally popped them. This was only lust, wasn’t it? She wouldn’t have slept with Rex if she hadn’t liked him, but she’d never intended their month together to be more than a last fling and an opportunity to prove to Andrea and Holly that she wasn’t missing out on anything by following her mother’s suggestion to marry Wally.

No, this heady feeling couldn’t be more than lust. She wasn’t an impulsive person, and she never made important decisions without thoroughly researching her options. Logic always triumphed over emotion, and logic said Wally was proper husband material. She couldn’t afford to fall for Rex, so she wouldn’t. It was as simple as that. She had two and a half weeks to enjoy his company, and then she’d fulfill her obligations.

Last chance. Last chance.

The straitjacket of expectations tightened around her, making it difficult to take a breath. Goose bumps rose on her skin and her stomach churned. Swallowing her rising anxiety, Juliana sat up and shoved her hair off her face with an unsteady hand. The ceiling fan overhead whirled, cooling her naked skin. She could handle a purely physical relationship. Couldn’t she?

Certainly. Other women did it all the time.

Rising from the bed, she listened for Rex in the adjoining bathroom, but heard nothing. Where could he be? And then she caught sight of her face in the mirror over his dresser and grimaced. Her hair looked like she’d been through a hurricane, and she had mascara smudges beneath her eyes. Vanity forced her to take a quick shower, brush her teeth and apply a touch of makeup. She combed her damp hair, shrugged into her bathrobe and then eased open the bedroom door and jerked to a halt.

Déjà vu. Rex slept on the sofa, wearing only unbuttoned jeans. Her smile faded and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Why would he sleep out here when he had a perfectly good bed—and her—in his room?

Doubt crept over her like an incoming fog. Hadn’t he enjoyed last night as much as she had? Her achy well-loved muscles and the love bites and beard burn he’d left on her skin indicated he had. But maybe she hadn’t measured up to Rex’s other lovers.

Horrified, she pressed a hand to her chest. Had he been faking it? With her vast experience at faking it, surely she would have recognized pretense?

Maybe he was trying to shelter the girls from the adult side of his and Juliana’s relationship. She liked that idea better than thinking he might prefer the too-short sofa to sleeping with her.

Part of her wanted to shake him awake and pepper him with questions until she had her answers. Her more cautious side feared what she’d hear. Confrontation wasn’t a problem for her at work where she knew her subject and often had the supporting data in front of her, but in her personal life, she sucked at it and this morning…She bit her lip and tightened the belt of her robe. Why wasn’t there a manual for mornings after?

She tiptoed into the kitchen and flipped the switch on the coffeepot. Within seconds, the appliance gurgled to life. Juliana watched Rex, half hoping the machine’s noisy hisses and coughs would rouse him. From where she stood, she could see the top of his head, his shoulders and chest. The sudden change in the cadence of his breathing made her pulse quicken. In moments, she’d have her answers. Like them or not.

Rex lifted his left wrist, checking his watch, she guessed, and then he swiped his hand over his face. She wished she could see his expression. Was he smiling as she’d been when she’d first awakened? Or did he have regrets?

He inhaled deeply, and then sat up and shoved his hair back with both hands. His head turned abruptly and he spotted her. She saw the exact second he recalled the intimacy they’d shared. Tension stiffened his features and his spine straightened. Not a good sign when she’d hoped for a smile and a hello-babe-let’s-go-back-to-bed-before-the-girls-awake kiss.

Clinging to his earlier declaration that he wasn’t a morning person and hoping that was the only cause of his less than happy-to-see-her reaction, Juliana swallowed to ease the dryness in her mouth. “Good morning.”

“’Morning.” He slowly rose and faced her with a dark, inscrutable gaze.

The blatant masculinity in his beard-roughened face, broad chest and the unbuttoned jeans sent adrenaline and estrogen pulsing through her system. “You didn’t have to sleep out here.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Because you didn’t want the girls to find us in bed together?” If she were a superstitious person, she’d cross her fingers.

“Because last night shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

The arousal simmering in her stomach turned cold and hard like cooling candle wax. Last night she’d had the best sex of her life and he was willing to dismiss it? “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you mind if I ask why?”

“Yes.”

She waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she asked, “Yes what?”

“Yes, I mind if you ask.”

“That was a rhetorical question. Why can’t we make love again?”

A nerve in his jaw twitched. “Look, Juliana, you’re an attractive woman. It’s been a while since I…It’s been a while for me. I should have controlled myself last night.”

This grew worse by the second. “Are you saying you were just scratching an itch and any woman would have done?”

He hesitated and those silent seconds crushed her heart in a vise. Breathless with pain, Juliana turned back to the coffeepot and filled a mug with unsteady hands. She didn’t want the fragrant brew, didn’t even know if she could keep it in her churning stomach, but she couldn’t face him right now.

And then an even more painful realization hit. Lust wouldn’t hurt this much. That meant that her feelings for Rex might be more than simple physical desire. Was she falling for him? Her heart pounded. No, she couldn’t be. He didn’t fit in with her life plan or her career goals.

“Juliana, I’m sorry.”

She straightened her spine, lifted her chin and met his solemn gaze. She tightened her fingers around the mug in a grip that would break more fragile china. “I’m not sorry.”