Secrets, Lies & Lullabies

Indulging in another sip of wine, Jessica let out a breathy sigh and crossed her legs—those damn tempting legs—at the ankle. She rested her arms on the armrests and her head back against the chaise.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been doing all the talking and not letting you get a word in edgewise.”

Something he’d noticed, but certainly hadn’t minded. He’d much rather listen to her speak than himself. On his best day he was a man of few words, and his only response now was to arch his brow and lift his own wine to his mouth for a drink.

“So …” she prompted. “Tell me about yourself. What do you do? Why are you in town? How long will you be staying at our fine establishment?”

“How long will you be making my bed and restocking my wet bar, you mean?” he retorted with a grin.

She chuckled, the sound filling the night air and doing nothing to quiet the pounding in his blood, his head, his gut.

“I don’t stock the bars,” she told him, returning his grin. “They don’t trust us near the pricey liquor—because they’re afraid we’ll either steal it … or drink on the job.”

He laughed at that. “I might be tempted to drink, too, if I had to clean up after strangers all day. Especially the kind who stay here. I imagine a lot of us come across as quite demanding and entitled.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not so bad. For one thing, I don’t usually have to interact with you demanding, entitled types. Most of the time the rooms are empty when I clean, and I get to work alone. The pay could be better—and for rich people, you guys sure can cheap out when it comes to tipping—but I like my coworkers, and the view is stunning when I get the chance to stop and actually enjoy it.”

He inclined his head. “Duly noted. In the future, I’ll be sure to leave a generous tip anytime I stay out of town.”

“Every morning before you leave your room,” she clarified, “not just the day you check out. Shifts change, and the same maids don’t always clean the same rooms every day.”

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t completely hold back the hint of a smile. She was a pretty good advocate for her fellow service workers.

“I’ll remember that. Have my tips so far been acceptable?” he asked, half teasing, half genuinely curious of her opinion.

She slanted her head, thinking about it for a minute. Then she shrugged a shoulder. “You’ve been doing well enough. And tonight’s dinner definitely makes up for any corners you may have cut.”

“Glad to hear it,” he drawled.

“You never answered my question,” she said after a moment of silence passed. The only sounds in the growing darkness were the muted voices of guests far off in the distance, perhaps strolling along one of the lodge’s moonlit paths, and the occasional chirp of crickets.

“Which one?”

“Any of them. All of them.” She uncrossed her ankles only to cross them again the other way. “Just tell me something interesting so I won’t feel like I monopolized the conversation tonight.”

“All right,” he replied. Pushing away from the stone barrier, he strode toward her, dragging the second chaise closer to hers one-handed and sitting down on the very end to face her.

“My family is in jewelry. Gems and design. Maybe you’ve heard of us—Bajoran Designs?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re Bajoran Designs?”

“I’m one of the Bajorans of Bajoran Designs,” he clarified. “As much as I might feel or wish otherwise at times, it isn’t a one-man operation.”

“Wow. Your jewelry is amazing.”

“You’re familiar with it?”

“Isn’t everybody?” she retorted. “Your ads are in all the magazines, and on TV and billboards everywhere. Didn’t you design a bracelet for the Queen of England or something?”

“Again, I didn’t, but our company did.”

“Wow,” she repeated. And then her head tilted to one side and she raised a brow. Her lips curved. “I don’t suppose you have any free samples you’d like to share.”

The sparkle in her eyes told him she was teasing, but he wished suddenly that he had more than just a few proposed design sketches with him. He wished he had a briefcase full of priceless jewels surrounded by exquisite settings to regale her with.

He would love to see her draped in emeralds and platinum or diamonds and gold. Earrings, necklace, bracelet, perhaps even a small tiara to tuck into those mostly blond curls.

He could think of any number of his companies’ designs that would look stunning with what she was wearing. But he imagined that they’d look even better on her while she was utterly naked.

Naked in his bed, her skin alabaster against dark sheets, her hair falling loosely about her shoulders. And at her lobes, her throat, her waist … maybe her ankle, too … his jewels, his designs, in essence his marks lying cool on her warm, flushed flesh.

The picture that filled his head was vibrant and erotic and so real, he nearly reached out to touch her, fully expecting to encounter nothing but the blessed nudity of a gorgeous and waiting female.

Arousal smacked into him with the force of a freight train late to its final destination. His fist closed on the wine in his hand, so tight he was surprised the glass didn’t shatter. Every muscle in his body turned to iron, and that most important one—the one that desired her most of all—came to attention in a way that made its wishes clearly known.

Sweat broke out across Alex’s brow and his lungs hitched with the effort to breathe. Jessica was still staring at him, the amusement at her teasing about the jewelry slowly seeping from her eyes as she realized he wasn’t laughing.

She probably thought she’d insulted him. Or come across as a gold digger. The difference in their stations—her minimum wage chambermaid to his multimillionaire business tycoon—was patently obvious, and something he supposed she hadn’t forgotten for a minute. Add to that the fact that he felt ready to explode, and he probably looked like Dr. Jekyll well on his way to becoming Mr. Hyde.

Forcing himself to loosen his grip on the wineglass, he concentrated on his breathing. Relax, he told himself. Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t scare her off before you have a chance to seduce her.

And he was going to seduce her. He’d been attracted to her from the moment they’d first met, which, of course, meant he’d thought about sleeping with her about a thousand times since. But thinking about it and making a conscious decision to go through with it were two different things.

He hadn’t realized until just this minute that he was going to make a move on her. He was going to kiss her and do his best to convince her to go to bed with him.

Pushing to his feet, he leaned across to set his wine on the wrought-iron table that had been between the two chaises. He locked his jaw and cursed himself when she jerked at his sudden movements. His only hope was that he hadn’t frightened her so much that he couldn’t smooth things over. Seducing a woman on the first date could be hard enough without adding “acted like a jackass” to the mix.

“Sorry,” he said in a low voice, hoping the single word would be suitable as a blanket apology. And then in answer to her earlier question, “I don’t have any samples. I’d need a 24/7 armed guard to carry that kind of merchandise around with me.”

At his friendly tone, she seemed to relax. And when she did, he did.

“If you like, though, I can arrange a tour of our company. You can see how the pieces are put together, watch some gems being cut, maybe even catch a peek at a few designs that haven’t been released yet. You’d have to come to Seattle, though. Think you can get the time off?”

If he’d expected her to be impressed, he was sorely disappointed. Her expression barely changed as her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

“That’s all right,” she said, instead of “Oh, wow, that would be awesome!” “I was just joking. I could never afford anything of yours, anyway. Better not to tempt myself.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he’d gift her with a piece while she was there. He’d never done anything of the sort before, never even been tempted. Yet suddenly he didn’t want to just imagine her covered in his family’s fine jewelry, he wanted to literally cover her with it. Throw it at her feet like a humble servant making an offering to the gods. Diamonds, emeralds, opals, sapphires … Whatever she wanted. As much as she wanted.

He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d become such a weak-kneed sycophant. He’d certainly never given women jewelry before; at least not easily or as willy-nilly as he was envisioning doing with Jessica.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure he liked these feelings and the lack of control she seemed to evoke. It was the number one reason he thought he should probably call it a night and get as far away as possible from this woman.

That would be the smart thing to do, for certain.

So why didn’t he?

Desire? Lust? Sheer stupidity?