The instant she shut the bathroom door,Taylordropped the blanket and started removing her damp clothes, pausing only to place her cell phone in a safe spot. Clipped to the waistband of her pants, it hadn't disappeared with Donald. The small change in her pockets clinked as she dropped her pants to the floor - forgotten from an earlier purchase, the money would have been just enough for the bus.
She noted the sunken spa to the left but headed straight toward the shower. Encased in glass, it had an enormous amount of space, the fixtures steel and glass. Obviously, it had been custom-built for someone much bigger than her.
Immediately, her brain bombarded her with images of Jackson's muscled bulk in the shower, his arms bulging with strength as he did things to her in the watery enclosure that were surely not anatomically possible.
"Even if they were, you're such a coward that you'd run a mile if he tried."
With a self-mocking laugh that was tinged with a trace of disappointment, she stripped and stood in the centre of the cubicle, under the three showerheads. The spray hit her so high that she was in danger of drowning. She reached up and tried to tilt them down but they wouldn't budge. Giving up, she stood shivering on the tiles outside.Jackson's firm knock came a minute later. Cracking open the door, she peeked around it.
"You should be getting warmed up. I told you I'd throw it in." Hescowled, all male annoyance and faintly menacing good looks.
And yet she trusted him. He had a rock-solid integrity that defied her to put him in the same unflattering category as the rest of his sex. A thought nudged at the back of her mind but she pushed it aside. Her stepfather's attempt at wresting custody of Nick from her was her problem and despite his kindness, Jacksonwouldn't want to know about it. After all, she'd just been his temporary secretary.
She grabbed the robe, hiding behind the door. "Wait." Snuggling into the garment, which smelt reassuringly ofJacksonand devoured her entire body, she tugged the door fully open. "I need you to set the showerheads lower. I feel like I'm standing underNiagara Falls."
Shaking his head, he walked into the humid room. "They're electronic." He showed her a control panel on the outside wall of the shower. "See?"
Taylorflicked her gaze up from her appreciative view of his backside. The man was muscled everywhere. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to run her hands all over that beautiful golden skin. "How was I supposed to know your house wasgadgety ?" Grateful that she sounded normal, she made a face at him. "Okay, fix them anyway now that you're here."
Giving her one of his rare but extremely lethal grins, he did as ordered. "Enough,shortie ?"
Nurtured by the warmth of that smile, something woke in her heart, something that wasn't lust. Used to protecting herself from emotions that promised joy but could just as well lead to incredible suffering, she tried to ignore it. "Thanks, Mr. Mobster." She could barely wait to luxuriate in the heat. "I need to thaw now. Shoo."
He left with another grin that seared her nerves. Disgusted at both her physical and unexpected emotional susceptibility to a man so far out of her reach, she shucked off the robe and stepped into the shower.
Jacksonstood outside the bathroom, trying to relearn to breathe. It wasn't easy when erotic visions of Taylorin black lace dominated his thoughts. His lovely guest had apparently started stripping at the door and not stopped 'till she'd reached the shower. Ignoring the trail of feminine clothes, ending in a pair of black lace panties, had been a forced lesson in self-control. Especially when he noticed that the bra matched.
He hadn't thought thatTaylorwould be the black lace type. Showed how much he knew. Groaning, he leaned on the wall with both hands and dropped his head against the white paint. His shoulders were rigid with tension, his jaw set as he wrestled with instinct.
"I will not seduceTaylor," he repeated over and over, and knew he was lying. Having her encased in his robe wasn't enough. He wanted her encased in him, while her body sheathed his in hot, wet welcome.
Poor, sweetTaylorwould probably run a mile if she discovered what he was thinking. Bundled up in his white robe, she'd looked even smaller than usual. Though she wasn't a petite woman, next to his bulk she appeared fragile. His biceps bulged as he tensed his body, trying to tame the desire rippling through him, hot and voracious. Its talons tore at his control, hungering for heat and abandon and sheer, unadulterated pleasure.
Taylorhad definitely awakened the sleeping tiger within him. The question was,did she have any interest in satiating it? Well ... she had called him gorgeous. Despite his frustrated desire, he smiled, remembering the first time he'd seen her.
He'd looked up from drafting changes to a contract, expecting to find a mature woman in his office doorway. The agency knew his requirements. He didn't want some young would-be starlet trying to impress him with her "charms" - he wanted superb typing skills not mediocre acting skills.
The woman in the doorway had had dark hair pulled back into a severe bun, lush lips softened only by gloss and lovely blue eyes. He'd detected a trace of challenge in those too-blue eyes, as if his reputation didn't scare her. She'd been dressed in a knee-length skirt and fitted jacket, both in solid navy, looking every inch the executive assistant.
He'd wanted to groan in despair. It would've taken a blind man not to notice that she was stunning. He'd known from experience that if he gave her the slightest encouragement, she'd pull out some undoubtedly beautiful hair from that bun, undo the buttons on her jacket and sashay over.
"I need this dictation typed yesterday," he'd growled, throwing her a tape.
She'd caught it and left, without commenting on his brusqueness. Dismissing her from his mind, he'd started to race through another piece of work, aware that without a competent secretary, his day was likely to end sometime in the wee hours of the morning.
Less than half an hour later, she'd walked back in. Handing him several typed sheets, she'd picked up his handwritten edits to the contract and returned to her workstation. Wondering at her confidence, he'd turned his eyes to what she'd given him and just about died of shock.
Stalking out, he'd stood over her desk. "Name?"
"Taylor Reid." Her response had been cool.
"Do you want to be a movie star?"
Blue, blue eyes had widened. "Good God, no."
He'd grinned at that disgusted statement. It had been the first time that she'd made him smile. "Fine.
Good work. Do I have you for the next three months?"
"Yes."
His delight in having found an extremely efficient secretary hidden beneath the form of a beautiful woman had been borne out. By the end of her first week, she'd organized his office, caught up on the backlog of filing and yelled at him when he'd raised his voice to her.
And somewhere along the way, he'd found himself corning to work just to hear her tart responses to his questions, and bask in her sunny smile. They'd never crossed any line, never even touched, but in his heart he'd known that he wanted to claim her as his woman. Only his promise to himself that he'd be faithful, unlike his philandering father and womanizing half brothers, had kept him from taking her. Or perhaps it had been the fact thatTaylorhad seen him as honorable and he'd wanted to live up to her expectations.
Now, there were no barriers to what he wanted to do with sweet, sexy Taylor, and his body was demanding he make up for almost three years of abstinence, broken only by that one, bittersweet afternoon with Bonnie. After her death, he'd had plenty of offers and no trouble refusing them all. He'd thought his emotional centre had died with his child, taking with it his need for a woman's soft touch. But his reaction toTaylortold him that his body hadn't shut down, it had merely gone into hibernation, waiting for the one woman who could bring him back to life.
Taylor.
The shower shut off. Shaking his head, he pushed off the wall and headed down the stairs to the kitchen.
After her assault tonight,Taylorwould hardly be reassured if she found him waiting for her outside the bathroom, blatantly aroused and more than ready to peel off her single layer of clothing. He didn't know if he could control himself around skin pink from heat, body naked and touchable under the robe. His robe.
Then, minutes later, she walked into the kitchen, wrapped in that damn robe. "Is that coffee I smell?"
He'd kicked off his shoes in the living room and saw that she was barefoot, too. "You'll get cold on the tiles. I'll find you some socks." He didn't even to try to fight his protective instincts toward her.
She came to stand next to him, holding out a hand for the cup of coffee he held. "Coffee first."
"This is ... mine," he finished, as she stole the cup and took a big gulp. He watched her swallow, heard her sigh in appreciation and felt all sorts of things harden in his body. Her fresh, womanly scent made him want to strip her down to her glowing skin and crush her body under his, while his hands stroked and kneaded. Frowning, he backed off a couple of steps. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." She turned, cradling the cup in her palms. "Donald didn't really scare me - I guess I just felt betrayed." Disappointment edged her tone.
He understood. "You're safe here."
Her smile was glorious. "I know. I trust you."
Dio!hethought. No way in hell could he seduce hernow. "I'll get you those socks."
"Don't worry about it. Let's go in the living room instead." She put down the now empty cup. "Are you coming?"
Bemused, he followed her into the spacious room. A small music system was arranged in wall brackets on the left, while a large sofa upholstered in blue sat against the opposite wall. However, the main feature was the floor-to-ceiling window immediately in front. Stretching from one end of the room to the other, it looked out over the sea to the dormant island volcano ofRangitoto . Tonight, the weather obscured most of the view, allowing only a glimpse of crashing breakers.
