Mission: Make-Over

‘Last night,’ she told him smartly as she fought to get back the breath that had suddenly deserted her when he’d touched her face with such mock tenderness. As his eyebrows rose she added sweetly, ‘I don’t sleep in my work clothes, Jake.’

‘No, you sleep in a cotton nightdress,’ he agreed sardonically. ‘The same one you’ve been wearing since you were fifteen years old, I imagine.’

‘It’s still cold at night,’ she protested, feeling her face starting to heat up at the taunting note in his voice. ‘I like to curl my feet up into it…’

‘A woman in love…a woman with a lover…wouldn’t need a nightdress to keep her warm,’ Jake told her mockingly, adding hurtfully, ‘But then you aren’t a woman, are you, Lucianna? Not yet…’

‘Not according to you,’ she agreed, driven recklessly to answer him back to make him stop taunting her, and she added, ‘What’s wrong, Jake? Are you having second thoughts, beginning to feel that you’ve taken on too much, that you can’t transform me after all…make me a woman…?’

The look that crossed his face, the utter stillness of his body whilst his eyes turned dark and hot with an emotion she couldn’t recognise made her tense warily, not sure what it was she had said or done to unleash the fury she could sense he was trying to control, only knowing that she had suddenly and frighteningly strayed into an area of his personality she wasn’t familiar with.

‘Don’t tempt me,’ she heard him saying softly to her. ‘Just don’t tempt me, Lucianna.’

Don’t tempt him to what? she wondered shakily as his hand dropped from her arm as though her skin had burned him. Don’t tempt him to wring her neck, probably, she decided unhappily, forced to increase her stride to try to keep up with him as he strode down the street.

Scowling darkly, she flirted momentarily with the idea of telling him that she had changed her mind and that she didn’t want or need his help after all, but then she remembered the triumphant mockery she had heard in Felicity’s voice when she had told her about John’s fax and the slanting-eyed come-hither look she had given Jake, the same look Lucianna had seen her giving John on several previous occasions, and her head lifted and her spine straightened.

Jake, who had turned to wait for her to catch up with him, watched her discreetly.

She looked for all the world like a youthful teenager, her slender body encased in oversized clothes, but she wasn’t a child, she was an adult, a woman. A woman whose most basic instincts had been aroused by the threat of losing her man.

Her man. Jake’s frown returned as he turned abruptly away from Lucianna. The task he had taken on was fraught with innumerable perils, not the least of which was the fact that he might succeed and that Lucianna would get her way—and her man.