Single, Sexy...And Sold!

As a young and inexperienced woman in the stock market, she’d had to hustle the past few years to keep her head above water. Even with her rent held lower than the other tenants’ because of an old agreement made by her great-uncle, she still didn’t have lots of cash for luxuries left over at the end of each month. Lately she’d been spending all her spare money and energy trying to lift her mother’s depression.

At least that was working. Whenever Alice wasn’t wrestling the bachelor-auction theme into her manuscript, she was brainstorming ways for Natalie to make a good impression on Jonah this weekend. The white outfit had been Alice’s idea. The illusion of purity always fascinated a man, she’d said.

Meanwhile, Natalie struggled to keep her two roles straight. In her mother’s presence she had to pretend to be crazy in love with Jonah, but in Jonah’s presence she had to squelch any sexual feelings, or risk compromising her mission. Her brain was tired from the effort, come to think of it. She ought to have another strawberry.

She closed her eyes and took a bite. When the juice spurted out, she tried to catch the runoff with her tongue before it dribbled down her chin. She missed. Damn. She should have been more careful. Her illusion of purity was probably compromised. Opening her eyes, she glanced down at the front of her blouse. A red dot marked the exact position of her left nipple. She grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at it, which only spread the stain and made her nipple pucker under the soft material.

A soft sound drew her attention to the stairs, and she realized Jonah had been standing there for several seconds. Even across the distance separating them, she could feel the heat in his gaze. Unfortunately her body was responding to that heat. This buddy plan wasn’t working too well.

He cleared his throat and walked over to sit on the opposite end of the banquette. He picked up his champagne glass and drained it before he spoke. “The launch is still keeping up with us. The captain says there’s not much he can do about it, as long as they don’t come close enough to be any kind of navigational danger.”

“So what do you think we should do?” It came out sounding much more suggestive than she’d meant it to. She couldn’t help it if being nervous made her voice husky. And she was definitely a wee bit nervous being alone with him. The look he’d given her a minute ago hadn’t worn off yet, either.

He put down his glass and turned, his glance dropping to the red spot on her blouse, then moving back to her face. “I think you’d better tell me what you expect for your thirty-three thousand.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Then I’ll be more clear. Do you expect that before this weekend is over I’ll make love to you?”

The idea sent a thrill of reaction through her system. “Of course not! What sort of woman do you think I am?”

“Damned if I know!” He scooted across the banquette and leaned toward her. “And if you don’t want sex, I have no earthly idea what you do expect for your thirty-three grand, lady. It’s making me nervous.”

Her chin came up. “All I expect is a fun weekend.”

He leaned closer, obviously ready for a fight. “And what, may I ask, is your definition of fun?”

She got right in his face, irritated with his automatic assumptions about her. “Probably the same as yours, buster.” Even if she was mad at him, he smelled nice. And she’d never noticed that freckle high on his cheekbone, or the way his lashes curled.

“I doubt it.” His eyes darkened. “I can just imagine what sort of wild, exotic experience you’d consider worth all that money.”

“Oh, can you?” She thought maybe his imagination was affecting his breathing, because it wasn’t much steadier than hers.

He drifted closer still, and his voice took on a husky tone. “We might as well settle the main issue right now.”

“I’m all for that.” She loved watching his mouth, and the dimple that flashed in his cheek when he talked.

“I have…absolutely…no intention…of making love to you.”

“That’s good, because I have absolutely…no intention…of making love to you…either.”

His kiss came hard and fast, but not fast enough to suit her. She wanted to be gobbled up, consumed by the fire. He plunged his tongue deep, and she moaned with delight. This was good, very good. Pushing her down against the leather bench, he began working at the buttons of her blouse as he continued to kiss her breathless.

She pulled his knit shirt from the waistband of his slacks and ran her hands up underneath to feel the play of muscles across his broad back. To touch him was heaven. And to be touched was…unbelievable. She gasped as he unfastened her bra and cupped her breast in his supple fingers. It was the right touch, the one she’d waited for, dreamed of, thought might be an illusion.

Bells rang. Or rather, one bell rang, quite persistently.

He lifted his mouth from hers.

Slowly she opened her eyes to gaze up at him.

“Lunch,” he murmured.

She struggled to speak. “Let’s…skip it.”

“If we…” He paused to take a deep breath. “If we don’t go up, they’re liable to come down after us.”

“Oh.”

He stroked his thumb across her nipple. “I meant what I said.”

“Okay.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she absorbed the ecstasy of that gentle caress. “About what?”

“I’m not going to make love to you.”

She clenched her jaw. She’d gone and forgotten her mission again. This was going to be a tougher assignment than she’d thought. “That’s good, because I’m not going to make love to you, either.”

“You’re not?” He sounded disappointed.

She opened her eyes and strengthened her resolve. “Nope.”

“Is that reverse psychology?”

“It’s the truth.”

“So no matter how I coaxed you, you’d say no.”

“That’s right.” Scooting out from under him, she sat up and reached behind her back to refasten her bra.

He cleared his throat. “Well, then we both understand each other.”

“I think we do.” She glanced down at the stain on her blouse. It should be put to soak or it might be permanent, and this was a good blouse.

“I’m glad we cleared the air and settled everything.”

“Me, too.” She’d just take the blouse off and rinse it, she decided.

“And I think it’s—what are you doing?”

“Taking off my blouse. What does it look like?”

“Natalie, please don’t do that.”

“I need to put it in some water to soak or it will be ruined.” Carrying the blouse, she walked back to the galley.

“How do you expect me to stick to my decision if you’re going to parade around practically naked?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sticking to mine. But if it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me my sweatshirt?”