Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance) (20 page)

Then she remembered the scene outside the mall when
she found out she’d been abandoned in corn country with Black Jack Hudson. “God,
how embarrassing.”

She still couldn’t believe she’d unraveled in front of
him. He must think her a certified flake. Why not? He already knew she was a
consummate liar.

“Why do I care?” The steaming water swirled around her
shoulder muscles, massaging away knots of tension. She took a deep breath and
submersed herself beneath the fluffy bubbles. In the soundless underwater world
she could shut out the nagging voice that berated her for staying in such a
sinful hotel room with a man like Jack Hudson.

Peace. Quiet. The ultimate calm.

A crash penetrated her serenity and Frankie burst
through the surface.

“Frankie!” Jack’s voice boomed.

She shook her head and rubbed at her eyes. The bubbles
made them tear up, but she could still see Jack towering over her.

“What are you doing in here?” She scooped a thick mass
of bubbles to cover her breasts. He couldn’t see her naked body, could he? Her
nipples hardened at the thought. “How could you break in when I’m taking a
bubble bath?”

“I called through the door but you didn’t answer. I
thought you were hurt.”

“I was submerged.” She splashed water at her face to
clear the soap from her eyes. Then she noticed the bathroom door hung crooked
from its top hinge. “What happened to the door?”

“I busted it in.” He crossed his arms over his chest
as if expecting her to criticize his protective actions.

Instead, something warmed inside her chest. He cared.
He was really, truly worried. Either that or he didn’t want to add a drowned
feline to his list of problems.

“I started to order room service but didn’t know what
you wanted to drink,” he said.
 
“So
I called through the door and you didn’t answer.”

She rubbed her eyes again. Focusing on the sight in
front of her she couldn’t help but burst out laughing. The satin robe gaped
across his chest and exposed his muscular legs all the way up to his thighs.
Luckily it concealed the more intimate parts of his body.

“What?” He puffed out his chest.

“Nice legs,” she chortled, with a lift of her eyebrow.

“It was either this, stay in my trunks and tights, or
wear nothing at all.”

A choking cough interrupted her giggle attack at the
thought of Jack’s magnificent naked body.

“You okay?” He reached out to her.

“Fine, fine.” She scooped up more bubbles for cover.

He snatched his hand back. “Right, sorry.” He stepped
out of the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack. “How about something to
drink?”

“Ginger ale’s fine.”

“Ginger ale? After a day like today?”

His tone rankled her. “Sorry I’m not as exciting as
most of the women you hang out with, but booze and me don’t mix.”

“How about meat?”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s well done. I like
my meat a little tough.”

A crash echoed outside the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I’ll order us cheeseburgers. Well done.”

“Thanks.”

He closed the door but it kept popping open thanks to
his emergency rescue.

“It won’t close all the way, sorry,” he called from
the other side of the door.

“It’s okay.”

She sensed him walk away and relaxed a bit. She still
couldn’t believe he’d broken down the door because he was worried about her.

“That was sweet,” she whispered, then caught herself.
“Sweet” was not a word one used to describe Black Jack Hudson. Not in a million
years.

She rubbed her calves and thighs with the coarse
massage gloves and she finally started to relax. It must have been twenty
minutes later when she heard a soft tap at the door.

“Food’s here,” he said.

“Thanks, I’ll be right out.”

The heavenly bath couldn’t compete with the thought of
a full stomach. She dried off, ran her fingers through her hair and tied the
robe securely around her. Luckily hers was designed to fit a healthy-sized
woman on the tall side. It draped to her ankles.

When she stepped out of the bathroom her toes sunk
into the plush carpet. Soft music drifted across the room and her gaze landed
on the bed. Jack was sitting on the very edge with a tray next to him. She
hadn’t noticed until now that the bed was the ONLY piece of furniture in the
room besides a chest of drawers and entertainment center.

“I guess we’ll have to eat on the bed,” he said,
eyeing the tray of food.

“Either that or the floor.” She hesitated. It felt
wrong, naughty.

Her stomach gurgled. She moved to the opposite side of
the bed and shifted onto the thick comforter. “What have we got?”

“I tried for cheeseburgers, but they had other ideas.”
He lifted the metal food warmer. A thick, juicy steak filled an eight-inch
plate.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, they’re taking this honeymoon thing pretty
seriously.” He didn’t make eye contact.

“I’m starving.” She snatched a knife and fork and went
to work.

“Here’s your ginger ale.” He popped open the can and
filled a glass.

“Thanks.” She took a sip and glanced around the room
at the erotic prints. Heat flushed her cheeks. She refocused on the meat. She
stabbed it with her fork, sliced off a healthy piece and stuck it in her mouth.
The tender steak nearly melted on her tongue. She closed her eyes and savored
the taste. She never thought eating could be such a treat.

The bed shifted and she opened her eyes. Jack ambled
across the room and stared out the window at the festivities below. “Looks like
quite a party down there.”

“Do you want to go?” she asked.

“Dressed like this?” He turned and flicked the
neckline of the robe, which gaped in front.

“That’s true.” She smiled. He did look rather silly.
And sexy.

She shoved a piece of steak into her mouth and bit
hard.

“I wouldn’t be any good to them anyway,” he muttered.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m tired and cranky. Not what they’re used to.”

“Surely they wouldn’t bother you. You’re off duty.”

“I’m a celebrity, not a cop. There is no off duty, or
haven’t you noticed?” He nodded toward the door.

The hallway scene replayed itself in her mind.

“Oh.” Sadness washed over her. The man had no privacy,
no piece of his life saved just for him. Frankie couldn’t imagine living that
way, belonging to everyone all the time.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she said.

“In a minute.” He glanced back out the window.

She practically inhaled the steak and took a few bites
of corn. Now that her tummy was full she felt much better. Her common sense was
firmly back in place.

Jack, on the other hand, ate only half his dinner and
nursed one beer. She noticed he’d ordered three.

“You done?” he asked, reaching for her tray.

“Yes, unless you think I’m going to eat the plate,
too.”

A faint smile creased his lips. “Are you still
hungry?”

Hungry. Yes. But
not for steak
.

Her pulse pounded in her ears. What the hell happened
to her common sense?

“Francine?”

That word again, her full name, spoken from his lips
was nearly her undoing.

“No, I’m not hungry.” She stood and walked to the
window. “You can take the bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That bed’s big enough for four
adults. There’s plenty of room.”

“No, really, I insist.”

“What, you afraid I’m going to touch you?”

I’m afraid
you’re not going to touch me
.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she said.

As he placed the tray in the hallway and double locked
the door, her heart pounded in her chest.

“Listen, kid,” he started. “I’ll be uncomfortable if
you sleep on the floor and more uncomfortable if I sleep on the floor. So
lighten up and let’s get into bed.”

He untied his robe and she slapped at the light
switch. The overhead went out, leaving the room bathed in candlelight. She
could still see his body, rippling back muscles and firm buns clad in knit
boxer briefs.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d sleep in the Jacuzzi
and cushion the tub with towels. No problem.

“It’s safe,” he said.

She opened her eyes. He was stretched out beneath the
sheets.

“It’s not like I don’t trust you or anything,” she
said.

“Sure.” He rolled over, his back to her. “Come on, get
in bed. I’ll probably be asleep before you climb under the sheets.”

Twirling a strand of hair around her finger, she
glanced across the room debating her next course of action. Her gaze landed on
a rather colorful print of a man on his knees, his face buried between a
woman’s thighs. A hand to her forehead, her back arched, the woman had
completely surrendered to the obviously amazing sensations.

Frankie gritted her teeth. If sleeping with Jack
didn’t drive her insane, the prints covering the walls would. Well, it was
either stare at the erotic scenes or close her eyes and go to sleep.

Should she blow out the candles? No. Lying in complete
darkness next to Black Jack Hudson would certainly fry her circuits.

“What’s the matter? Afraid you won’t be able to resist
me?” he mumbled from the other side of the bed.

What an arrogant, egotistical jerk.

Marching to the bed, she double knotted the satin belt
of her robe and slipped under the sheets. He was right. There was plenty of
room. She could go the whole night and then some without noticing the man in
her bed.

She took a deep breath and stared up at her reflection
in the mirror. Never in a million years would she have dreamed up a scenario like
this: in bed with Black Jack Hudson, in bed with any man except Bradley. It’s
not like she was one to give her heart or body away to just anyone. No, her
heart was meant for the man who met all the qualifications, the man who would
provide her with a stable, perfect life.

Jack rolled onto his back and their eyes connected in
the mirror. Her pulse quickened.

“So, what’s he like?” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Your fiancé. What’s he like?”

Had he read her mind? And how could she talk about
Bradley while lying in bed with Jack? It seemed wrong and disloyal, yet maybe
the best thing to do under the circumstances. Talking about Bradley would keep
her mind off the tempting Adonis lying beside her.

“He’s actually my pre-fiancé. He’ll officially propose
when he gets his promotion.”

“A pre-fiancé? Huh. What does he do?”

“He’s one of the top accountants at Lundstrom, Marks,
and Beetle. He’ll make partner someday. He’s smart and hard-working. Bradley
knew since he was eight that he wanted to be an accountant. He’s so driven and
determined. He’s a visionary in the field.”

He studied her through the ceiling mirror and her body
lit on fire. So much for using Bradley as a shield against the sexual awareness
arcing between them.

She cleared her throat and searched her brain for all
the reasons why she and Bradley were the perfect couple. Talking about Bradley
would make him more real, and right now she needed him to be real to keep her
sexual hunger at bay. Intense physical attraction was exciting, sure, but it
always ended up in a train wreck, as did love. Look at what her mother had gone
through because she loved Frankie’s deadbeat father—always taking him
back, always making excuses.

Crying late at night when she thought Frankie was
asleep. And Frankie cried right along with her outside the bedroom door.

Physical attraction and love be damned. She knew the
sensible and forthright Bradley was the man for her. He would provide her with
the security she’d always needed, a sensible life, a perfect life.

A life without emotional pain.

Looking into Jack’s eyes through the mirror above, she
forged ahead.

“We’ll take three weeks vacation a year including an
educational trip to Europe,” she continued, hoping to quell the budding
awareness between them. “Then, maybe in six or seven years we’ll have a child,
if we can manage it around my career. Bradley will make an exceptionally good
father. He’s already got his eye on the right crib that meets all safety
specifications from the American Academy of Pediatrics.” She took a breath and
studied Jacks eyes in the semidarkness.

“Kids. I’ve thought about that,” he said.

“You have?”

“Sure. I hope to give it a try someday.”

He’d give it a try? He made it sound like he’d given
it as much thought as trying sushi or bungee jumping.

“Yes, well, that’s our goal. Successful careers,
investments and children, if it works into our plan.” She glanced at him. “I
guess that sounds pretty boring to a man like you.”

“No. It doesn’t.” He rolled onto his side, away from
her. “It sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

An empty feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
“Jack?”

“Good night, kid. We should get some sleep.”

“Oh, okay.” For some reason she didn’t want the
conversation to end. She wanted to get him talking and ask about his life, his
dreams.

They lay still, bathed in silence for a good five
minutes.

“Francine?” he said.

Her heart raced. “Yeah?”

“When we were on the catwalk?” he paused. “I wouldn’t
have dropped you. I wanted you to know that.”

The taste of peppermint lingering on his lips, Jack
ambled to the bathroom and tapped lightly at the door.

“Who’s there?” she called, her voice muffled by the
hard spray of the shower.

He pushed open the door. “The big”—he untied his
robe—“bad”—he pulled the shower curtain aside—“wolf.”

Arms crossed to conceal her voluptuous breasts,
Frankie giggled and stuck her fanny out for him to grab. “My, my you have big
teeth, Mr. Wolf.”