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Authors: Janice Lynn

Jane Millionaire (11 page)

BOOK: Jane Millionaire
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Yeah, JP might think it funny too if one film company after another hadn’t told him he was a has-been in the business and needed to retire. Until WOLF network came through with this reality show gig, he’d been labeled as washed up. He planned to prove every critic wrong.

JANE MILLIONAIRE’s success decided too much of his future for him to risk letting things go awry because Rob got an itch in his shorts.

“They’re going to play a game of one-on-one, Sir.”

JP’s brow shot up. Rob was going to play Jane in basketball? Didn’t he know too much rode on this show for him to be dallying with her? He’d kick the boy’s hind-end himself if he went for a K-I-S-S.

Rob’s angst-ridden gaze ran over Jane’s barely covered body. JP grinned in spite of the seriousness of the situation. He could understand Rob’s fascination. Jane was a great gal and a real looker.

For that matter, Jane seemed quite captivated by the man she currently pitted off against. Much more so than any of the bachelors. Too bad, she was the star of Jane Millionaire. She’d have made a great match for Rob and might have been the one to get him past the deep wounds dug by Mandy’s repeated betrayals.

JP pulled a cigar from his pocket and chewed on the end, wishing he could light it and inhale its calming flavor.

He had no choice. He’d have to make sure whatever sparks were flying between them died a quick death by any means necessary.

Besides as Jane Millionaire, Jane was the last woman Rob needed to be hooking up with. The boy avoided the media like the plague. When Jane returned to the U.S., she’d be a damn magnet.

“Make sure all the cameras in the gym are on. Rob will erase the main camera as that’s the one he’ll expect to have been recording continuously. I want their game recorded on the other three as well. Save all the footage and bring it to me.”

“Sir?”
“No one.” He stared at the curious man. “Including Rob, is to know about this. Not a word. Understand?”
The man nodded. “Yes, sir, Mr. Scott. I’ll bring the tape to you as soon as I’m finished recording.”
JP steepled his hands, and regarded the man thoughtfully. “Excellent.”
# # #

Idiot, Rob chided himself. What had he been thinking to take up her offer? That might be the problem--he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been staring at her sassy lips, wanting to kiss the challenge from their fullness, wanting to run his hands over the toned flesh she had on display.

The woman was a walking advertisement for fitness equipment, and he’d challenged her to a game of basketball. Why? Because he’d dreamed of playing her? Of claiming the prize none of the bumbling bachelors had been man enough to take?

His midsection hardened. He didn’t have time to take a cold shower and, blast it all, he’d already taken more cold showers in the past week than any grown man should. Two today. Not that the one following his brush off of her in the exercise room had helped. Her hot, whispered words haunted his libido like a ghost on Halloween night.

I want you to kiss me
.

Aw hell.
He was in trouble.
# # #

Rob managed to get his rebellious response under control without a cold shower--until he stepped into the gym and saw Jane in hip-hugging shorts and a tight T-shirt. He groaned and imagined being dunked into ice water, being back on the rough streets he’d grown up on, being married to Mandy again.

The last one worked.
His spine straightened and his resolve renewed.
“Practicing?” he called out.

“You know what they say.” She turned, grinned, then tossed the ball into the air without looking at the goal. “Practice does make perfect.”

The resounding swoosh of the ball passing through the net mocked him as he walked onto the gym floor.
“Are you sure you aren’t too tired to play?” he asked, knowing she’d had a full day, and it was close to midnight.
“Afraid you might lose?” she taunted, looking way too bright and cheery as she rebounded the ball.
“Not in this lifetime. I didn’t want you to cry that you lost because you were wiped-out.”
“I’m a big girl. You let me worry about whether or not I’m too tired.”

She sure didn’t look like she’d been on the go the entire day. She looked energetic and sexy in her shorts, shirt and swept-up-in-a-ponytail hair. How had she gone from swimsuit model to sports jock in the fifteen minutes since he’d last seen her?

“My stamina would amaze you.”
He almost tripped over his size twelves at the innocent, yet without a doubt teasing, look she was giving him.
What had happened to the pissed off woman he’d left in the foyer?
He averted his gaze, counted to ten, and asked a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to. “What are we playing?”
Her lips curved. Wickedly.

God, he’d known he’d ticked her off in the exercise room. He’d meant to.
Had to
. Anything to put some needed distance between them. And in the foyer, what had that been all about? Why had he tried to explain why he hadn’t taken up her enticing offer? She knew all the reasons why a relationship--even if just a physical one--was impossible between them.

Not to mention the ever-present cameras.
He’d rejected her, and now she planned to make him squirm.
Didn’t she realize they were playing with fire and were going to go up in smoke if someone didn’t extinguish the flames?

He swallowed and only managed to further fill his senses with her scent. He could practically taste her feminine sweetness. At least how he imagined she’d taste. Damn, he wanted to know.

“What would you like to play?” Her eyes danced as they traveled over his body. He refused to fidget--cause that was definitely what she wanted. Too bad. Rob Lancaster didn’t bow down to any woman. Not even one as feisty as her.

“H-O-R-S-E?” he suggested, knowing she’d refuse.
She did.
“Twenty points?”
She shook her head.

He
knew
what she wanted to play.

“I won’t play for your kiss, Jane.” But he did want to feel those plump lips against his.

“Fine.” She shrugged as if it were no big deal, then shot him a sugary sweet smile. “We’ll play for
your
kiss.”

“What?” His surprised yap echoed around the gym. Right then and there, he mentally bowed to her audacity. And her power to drive him beyond reason.

“If I reach twenty points first,
you
have to kiss me.”

“You’re crazy. No way in hell am I playing with those terms.”

“Afraid you might lose?” she taunted, with a sassy shake of her long dark ponytail.

Lose? With stakes like those,
he wanted to lose
.

Scratch that. He didn’t want to give her any ideas. He had to convince her he was totally against an affair between the two of them. Of course, it would help if he could convince himself.

Besides, she couldn’t beat him. Not at basketball. While growing up, he’d spent entire days at the neighborhood court. He and his brother sure hadn’t had anything else to do during the long hours his mom slaved at one of her many jobs. Basketball was his game.

“Fine. What do I get
when
I win?”

“You’re sure you don’t want your kissing me to be the prize either way?” Her lower lip pouted almost imperceptibly, but he noticed.

Man, did he notice. Every single cell in his body stood to full attention.
He looked up, and his gaze landed on one of the two cameras attached to opposite corners of the gym’s ceiling.
“I’m sure.” Sure kissing her was exactly what he wanted but wouldn’t do.
Her lips twisted in amusement as she considered him. “Name your prize, and it’s yours.”
“Anything?”
Her words had been heavy with innuendo. Hot desire flared, threatening to melt his tennis shoes to the gym floor.
“Anything,” she whispered low, her lips parted and her green eyes dripped with desire and fire.
Oh, yeah, she planned to make him suffer for his rejection.

Every single drop of testosterone screamed for him to play for one night in her bed. For that one night he’d be the winner. But then he’d lose. Big time. He had a feeling there was no way he could really win when it came to Jane.

“When I beat you, you have to kiss one of the bachelors tomorrow.”
Had he said that? Idiot. What kind of incentive was that for him to win? For her to kiss another man?
Hell, he really did want to lose.
She looked taken aback, then shrugged with a saucy roll of her shoulders. “If that’s what you want.”
She passed the ball. “Producers first.”
Twenty points. Piece of cake.

Ten fast-paced minutes later, they were tied twelve to twelve. Maybe the bachelors hadn’t let her win after all, he grudgingly admitted to himself as he dribbled down court.

“Do you give up?” She swatted the ball, but failed to steal it as he switched hands.

“You wish,” he laughed in spite of his inner turmoil. What was it about her that made him feel good inside even when he was trying to hang on to all the reasons why he shouldn’t be with her? Shouldn’t let her close?

She slapped at the ball again, causing him to lose control. He snatched it before she stole it away.

“You really should go ahead and forfeit. You can’t win this game.” Yeah, he’d already worked that one out for himself. Was she still talking about basketball?

“I
will
win this game, and you
will
kiss one of the bachelors. Tomorrow.” But damn if he wanted to think about another man tasting what he wanted.

“Which one would you like me to kiss? Jeff? Steve?” Her lips twitched.

None of them
. “Which ever one turns you on.”

“You turn me on.”

He missed his shot.

What could he say? She turned him on too, but not enough to ruin JP’s career. Or his. Or to get involved with a woman who craved the spotlight, for that matter.

She grinned, looked him over from head to toe and rebounded the ball. When he didn’t respond, she dribbled out and cut through toward the goal for a lay-up.

He refused to allow her an easy score. He blocked her path, but she swapped hands, shot, and the ball bounced from the backboard and through the net. Swish.

“Nice shot,” he admitted. “Enjoy it. You won’t see another.”

“You think?” She placed a hand on her hip, drawing his attention to how the cotton material stretched over her curves.

“I know.” And he did. He knew he was in a helluva lot of trouble if he didn’t quit looking at how her breasts heaved with her rapid breathing. Or how her bottom looked like it would fit perfectly in his hands as he pulled her to his hips.

“Come on,” she urged, her eyes flashing as if she’d read his thoughts and teased him with her word choice. “What are you waiting on? For me to die from boredom? It’s not going to happen, dude. Take your turn or pass me the ball.”

He took the ball out, shot from three-point land, and, despite Jane’s valiant blocking attempt, sank it through the net.

“Whoosh!” Elation filled him. He couldn’t remember the last time something so pure and simple as a game had excited him. Maybe not since he was a child and he’d beat his brother for the first time. He grinned at her and strutted his stuff. “There it is.”

She rolled her eyes, but when her gaze met his, happiness danced in her green depths. “Show off.”

They battled another two no-scoring change of possessions. She ducked around him and sank the ball for another two points, taking the lead by one.

He shot. She jumped, caught a piece and knocked it off course. It hit the backboard with a thud. He jumped for the rebound, but landed his front to Jane’s backside. Her firm buttocks pressed against him. Heat--her heat--radiated through the thin material separating their bodies, scorching his brain.

Rebounding plummeted to the bottom of his priority list.

The ball hit the floor and rolled away. Neither of them moved. He honestly couldn’t recall putting his hand around her waist, but it was there, so he must have. Her flat abdomen contracted beneath where his palm pressed against her right side. Every drop of blood in his body headed south.

She inhaled with a noisy catch as he grazed his thumb along the lower edge of her breast. Needing to see her face, he rotated her. She met his gaze with wide, kryptonite eyes full of desire. Every reason he shouldn’t kiss her disappeared as insanity for her filled him. He lowered his head, almost stumbling backwards when she yanked free from his loose embrace to dart after the ball.

He frowned. What had happened? Why had she run off when she’d admitted she wanted him only minutes before?
Because she wanted him to pay for his callous comment in the exercise room. She wanted him to sweat. To squirm.
And he was.
Aw hell.
The cameras.

He’d almost kissed her. He wanted to kiss her. And he was battling to ensure another man got what
he
wanted.
Idiot.

He wiped moisture from his brow. He needed to win this game and get away from the sight of Jane’s sexy rear-end. Pronto.

She pressed her way toward the goal, arm pushing, butt bumping as she held him back. He didn’t want to touch her, but he wasn’t going to let her score. She only needed two baskets to win.

And then he’d
have
to kiss her.

He blinked. She scored. Damn.
With a feisty grin she tossed him the ball. He inhaled, caught the ball, and tried to refocus on the game.
He didn’t score, but neither did she.

He fought to make two more baskets. She battled just as hard to make sure he didn’t. She was good. He admired her spunk. Did she put her heart and soul into everything she did? Without a doubt, he’d never met anyone like this feisty woman.

“Give up?” he mimicked her earlier taunt, knowing she’d rather take a punch to the gut.

“Never!” she declared, swiping at the ball without luck.

He shot, missed, but caught his rebound and slammed it. One more and victory was his. No more squirming.
Not until he had to watch her kiss one of the bachelors
. “Sure you don’t want to call it quits before I humiliate you?”

BOOK: Jane Millionaire
6.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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