Secrets, Lies & Lullabies

The part about deceiving him and searching his suite like a wannabe spy would maybe have to be deleted, if she hoped to live with herself for the next fifty years, though.

Making a satisfied sound deep in her throat, she swallowed and finally turned her attention to Alexander—since she couldn’t justify ignoring him any longer.

“My name is Jessica. Madison,” she told him, using her middle name instead of her last. If he questioned anyone at the resort, they would either deny knowing her or correct her little fib without realizing they were revealing anything significant. He obviously hadn’t asked around about her or he would already know her name, and she doubted he would bother after this, as long as she didn’t give him cause to become curious.

He offered her a small grin and held his hand out across the table. She had to put her fork down to take it.

“Hello, Jessica. I’m Alexander Bajoran. You can call me Alex.”

A shiver of heat went through her at both the familiarity of his invitation and the touch of his smooth, warm hand.

Darn it! Why did she have to like him so much? And she really did. He was charming and good-looking and self-assured. Knowing he had a nice, hefty bank account certainly didn’t hurt, but it was his easy friendliness that made her regret her bargain with Erin and the fact that she was a Taylor.

If she didn’t have that baggage, she suspected she would be extremely flattered by his apparent interest in her and excited about tonight’s “date.” But she would be self-conscious about the fact that she was a lowly chambermaid, while he was clearly blessed financially, even though there was a time when her fiscal worth possibly rivaled his own.

She would have been fidgeting in her seat, careful to say and do all the right things in hopes of having him ask her out again.

And she probably also would have been imagining going to bed with him. Maybe not tonight, on their first date, or even on their second or third. But eventually—and sooner rather than later considering her deep and sudden hormonal reaction to him.

Shifting in her chair, she returned her attention to her plate, playing with her food in an attempt to get her rioting emotions under control. Not for the first time, she realized how truly foolish it was for her to have agreed to spend any more time alone with him than absolutely necessary.

Alexander—Alex—didn’t seem to be suffering from any such second guesses, however.

“So …” he muttered casually, digging into his own perfectly roasted pheasant. “Tell me something about yourself. Were you born here in Portland? Did you grow up here? What about your family?”

All loaded questions, littered with pitfalls that could land her in very hot water. Without getting too detailed or giving away anything personal, she told him what she could, stretching the truth in some places and avoiding it altogether in others.

Before long, their plates were clean, their glasses of wine had been emptied and refilled at least once and they were chatting comfortably. More comfortably than Jessica ever would have expected. Almost like new friends. Or new ones, hoping to become even more ….

Four

Reaching across the table, Alex topped off Jessica’s glass before emptying the rest of the bottle into his own. He leaned back in his chair, watching her, letting the bouquet of the expensive wine fill his nostrils while his eyes took in every detail of the woman sitting before him.

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d enjoyed a dinner more. So many of his meals were spent with business acquaintances, hammering out a new deal, discussing the aspects of a new publicity campaign or simply blowing smoke up someone’s proverbial skirt in an effort to preserve continued goodwill. Even dinner with his family tended toward business talk over anything personal.

Jessica, however, was a breath of much-needed fresh air. Without a doubt she was a beautiful woman. It was hard to miss her streak of blue hair or the multiple piercings running along her ear lobes and right eyebrow, but rather than detracting from her attractiveness, they added a unique flare to her classic good looks.

She was also much smarter and more well-spoken than he would have expected from a hotel maid. Truth be told, he hadn’t known what to expect from the evening after his completely impromptu invitation. But Jessica was turning out to be quite entertaining. Not only were her anecdotes amusing, but her warm, whiskey-soft voice was one he wouldn’t mind hearing more of. For how long, he wasn’t sure. The rest of the night might be nice. Possibly even in the morning over breakfast.

Jessica chuckled at whatever she’d just said—something he’d missed because he was preoccupied by the glossy pink of her bow-shaped mouth, the smooth half-moons of her neat but unmanicured nails and the soft bounce of her honey-blond curls. She tucked one of the shoulder-length strands behind her ear and licked those delectable lips, and Alex nearly shot straight up out of his chair. And while he managed—barely—to remain seated, other portions of his anatomy were beginning to inch their way north.

Knowing his behavior probably came across as bordering on strange, he shot to his feet, nearly tipping the heavy armchair over in the process. In the next instant he’d grabbed her hand and yanked her up, as well.

She made a small sound of surprised protest, but didn’t resist. She did, however, dig in her heels and catch herself on the edge of the table just before she would have smacked straight into his chest.

Too bad; he would have liked to feel her pressed against him for a moment or two. Her warmth, her curves, the swell of her breasts.

When he’d walked into his suite to find her making his bed that first time, he’d caught a whiff of lemon and thought it came from whatever cleaning solutions she’d been using. Now he realized the tangy scent had nothing to do with dusting or scrubbing. Instead, it came directly from her. From her shampoo or perfume, or maybe both. It was a peculiar blend of citrus and flowers that he’d never smelled before, but that seemed to suit her perfectly.

He took a deep breath to bring even more of the intoxicating fragrance into his lungs, then reached around her to pick up both glasses of wine.

“Come on,” he invited, tipping his head toward the French doors and the balcony beyond.

He left her to follow—or not—but was pleased when she did. Even more pleased that it seemed to take her no time at all to decide. No sooner had he turned and started walking than she was on his heels.

Though Jessica had arrived while it was still light out, the sun had long ago slipped beyond the horizon, leaving the sky dark and star dappled. A slight breeze chilled the evening air, but nothing that required jackets or would hinder them from enjoying being outside for a while.

Moving to the stone balustrade, he set down the two glasses, then turned, leaning back on his rear and crossing his arms over his chest. As large as the Mountain View resort was, and as many guests as he was sure were in residence, the wide balcony that ran the entire length of his suite was completely private.

Tall, waffle-patterned trellises protected either side from the balconies beyond. He didn’t know what the lodge did about them in the dead of winter, but at this time of year, they were covered with climbing flowering vines, creating a natural barrier to sound and sight.

When Jessica came close enough that he could have reached out and touched her, he uncrossed his arms and reached behind him instead. “Your wine,” he offered in a low voice.

She took it, raising it to her mouth to sip. For long minutes neither of them said anything. Then she moved to the low chaise longue a few feet away and carefully lowered herself to its cushioned seat.

Her skirt rode up, flashing an extra couple of inches of smooth thigh. More than he’d been able to see while she’d cleaned his rooms in that frumpy gray uniform. A shame, too, since she had amazing legs. Long and sleek and deliciously toned.

He had the sudden urge to sit down next to her and run his hand along that silken length. Even through her stockings he wanted to feel the curve of her knee, the sensitive dip beneath, the line of her outer thigh and the perilous trail inside.

Alex sucked in a breath, his mouth gone suddenly dry.

When was the last time he’d been this attracted to a woman? Any woman?

He’d had affairs, certainly. A few relationships, even. At one time, he’d dated a woman long enough to consider marrying her. He hadn’t loved her, not really, but it had seemed as if it might be the right thing to do. The most sensible next step, at any rate.

He was no stranger to lust, either. He’d been with women who’d caused it to flare hot and fast. But to the best of his recollection, he’d never been with a woman who stimulated his libido and his brain both at the same time.

Oh, it wasn’t as though he and Jessica were waxing poetic about astrophysics or the effect of global warming on penguins in Antarctica. But that was just the point: he’d had those discussions—or similar ones, at least—with certain women without a single erotic nerve ending tingling to life. Just as he’d found himself burning with passion and rolling around on the sheets with others without a single intelligent thought passing between them.

And then there was Jessica Madison. Nearly anonymous housekeeper at a resort he’d only decided to patronize a week and a half ago. If he’d booked a suite at the downtown Hilton instead, as had been his first inclination, he never would have bumped into her.

Damned if he wasn’t glad they’d been booked up and someone had recommended Mountain View as a second choice. This dinner alone was worth every penny of the added expense and every extra mile it took to get into downtown Portland for his scheduled meetings.

Jessica wasn’t just lovely to look at, but entertaining, too. Not only conversationally but in her silent self-assurance.

The hair and jewelry choices were the physical aspects of that, he supposed; a way to tell the world without words that she knew who she was and didn’t care what anyone thought of her or how she lived her life. But whether she realized it or not, her body language conveyed the same message.

Once she’d spotted those crab cakes and decided she wanted them, it had been difficult to draw her attention away from the plate. And when he’d told her she could have them all to herself, she’d set about eating them as passionately as an artist struck by sudden creative inspiration.

No worries about how she’d looked or what he might think. Which wasn’t to say she’d been a ravenous wolf about it. Her table manners had been flawless. But she’d enjoyed her meal the way he enjoyed a quick bout of neat, no-strings lovemaking.

And there it was. Sex. No matter where his mind started to wander when he got to thinking about this woman, it always seemed to circle right back around to S-E-X.

It didn’t help that she was stretching now, lifting her legs onto the long seat of the chaise and leaning back until she was nearly sprawled out like a virgin sacrifice.

Blood pooled in his groin, heating, thrumming, creating a beat in his veins that matched the one in his brain. Pa-dump. Pa-dump. Pa-dump. His heart, his pulse and his head kept the same rhythm, one that he could have sworn was saying, Do it, do it, do it.

He was very afraid “it” could be defined as something ill-advised. Like kissing her. Touching her. Taking her to bed.