The Naked Truth

He didn’t ask why the about-face. He didn’t want to know. All he knew was that they were both under some kind of spell—both crazy to have one another despite the fact that it was unethical and probably fatal to his mission.

“I will,” he promised fervently. “As soon as we get out of here.” The Ritz-Carlton, where he was staying, wasn’t far.

“I can’t wait that long. Now.”

“No, we—”

She moved her shoulders in a slow-motion shimmy, and the green bodice slipped down about an inch as she leaned toward him. His protest died on his lips as her breasts swelled out of their confinement. He couldn’t have shifted his gaze if he’d tried. With another breath, the silk slipped some more and twin shadows appeared above the rims of the cups.

“Touch me,” she whispered.

He pulled her toward him and captured her mouth in a kiss as he slipped his hand into her bodice and palmed her breast. She moaned under his lips as he filled his hand with her flesh, so hot and round and firm, and his thumb teased a nipple that was as hard as a blackberry.

Both of them were panting when he finally broke the kiss, and he barely restrained himself from rolling her into the backseat and tearing the gown off her altogether. Instead, he pulled away and watched the delicious process of Eve tucking herself back into her bodice, hiding her secrets from his avid gaze once more.

“You have the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen,” he breathed, turning the key in the ignition. “I’m that kind of guy. Easily visually stimulated.” He managed to get the car out of the driveway without hitting anything, and pressed the accelerator down once they were on the main road. “Do you ever go out without a bra?”

“Never.” Her hand lay on his thigh, and his erection practically strained toward it, he wanted her to touch him so badly. But he’d probably run off the road if she did.

“Would you if I asked you to?”

“Maybe.” A wicked smile teased the corners of her mouth.

“I want to see you tomorrow. For lunch or something. It’s Saturday—anything. We won’t tell a soul, and on Monday I’ll deny it ever happened.” She laughed, as if he’d confirmed something she already knew. “Wear a camisole for me and I’ll spend the whole time watching the shape of you under the fabric. Saying things to make your nipples as hard as they are right now, so I can look at them.”

“I’m so shocked,” she murmured, her hand sliding down the inner slope of his thigh. “What will people think?” Her fingers brushed his aching erection, and he sucked a breath between his teeth.

“They’ll think you’re a beautiful, sexy woman,” he got out, “and all the men will wish they were with you.” He managed to brake just in time for a Stop sign. “And if you don’t stop that, we’re going to have an accident.”

“You touched me,” she pointed out.

“You weren’t driving. And besides, you asked me to. Begged me, if I recall.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She pulled her hand back so its burning warmth rested once again on his thigh, and she gave him a sideways glance. “But I was just saying out loud what you wanted.”

“Damn right. Do I turn left or right here?” She pointed, and the car leaped forward. “Because there’s nothing I want more right now than to kiss that dress right off you, inch by inch.”

She did the shimmy with her shoulders again, and the bodice slid down so that it seemed only a miracle kept her nipples from popping out over the rim of the fabric. His entire body throbbed with anticipation.

“How do you do that?” He dragged his gaze back to the highway. In the distance he could see the lighted block of the hotel. Thank God.

“Faulty engineering. Keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Hayes.” With a fingertip, her eyes on his face, she traced the top of the bodice. Teasing. Promising.

“I can’t. Not when you’re giving me a visual feast. And I’m about five seconds from orgasm just looking.”

“At eighty miles an hour? Better slow down.”

“I’m in a hurry. I want to get you up to my room before you come out of that dress again.”

“Mmm,” she crooned, her other hand moving stealthily to stroke his erection through his black dress pants. He shuddered with pleasure. “I could come in it.”

“Not a chance. When you come, it’ll be screaming, naked and on top of me.” The speedometer edged up to eighty-five.

“Promises, promises.”

Her hand felt so good. “Eve, please,” he choked. “I can’t—I’m going to—” The tires chattered on the highway dots as he drifted into the next lane.

With a throaty chuckle, she pulled away and settled into the passenger’s seat, both hands primly in her lap, and he steered the Lexus back into the middle of the lane.

Almost there.

Dimly, Mitch heard a jingling sound, but his senses were so overwhelmed with Eve that it barely registered. Until the second time. Then the third.

“That’s my phone.” She sounded as surprised as if she’d never heard it before, and fumbled in her clutch bag.

“Let it go. We’re nearly there.”

She glanced at the wafer-thin screen, then back at him, her eyes full of apology. “I can’t. No matter how much I want to.”

THE NUMBER WAS JENNA’S, and Eve knew she’d been scheduled to meet with Liza’s attorney that day. The fact that it was nearly midnight made it even more necessary for her to answer.

“Yes?”

“Eve? Thank goodness. I thought it was going to roll to voice mail.”

“What’s up?” Her voice still sounded throaty, and the ricochet of desire through her veins distracted her—though she’d have to forego the distraction for a few minutes and concentrate.

“It’s stupid—I’m so sorry, Eve. I probably woke you up.”

“Yes, but not the way you think.” The heat in her blood dropped a couple of degrees back toward normal. “Take a moment if you need to.”

“It’s just dumb,” Jenna repeated. “But you’re so good at this kind of thing and I’m afraid I’ve messed up big-time.”

Eve glanced at Mitch, who was concentrating on a left turn into the hotel’s underground parking lot. “Did the negotiations not go well?”

“About what I expected. Kevin had his arguments, I had my counterarguments. It ended in a draw.”

“Kevin?” Eve said carefully.

Jenna sighed. “Yes. Kevin Wade, Liza’s attorney. Therein lies the problem.”

“What problem? Is he incompetent? If so, that’s good for us, right?”

Jenna laughed, a sound that conveyed more irony than humor. “No, he’s not incompetent. I am. I’m massively attracted to him and I made the mistake of showing it.”

Mitch pulled into a numbered spot and turned off the engine. But instead of making her feel rushed and guilty because he’d lost her attention, he seemed content to simply lounge against the driver’s side door, watching her. As if whatever she did gave him pleasure.

Focus. Jenna needs you.