Many Shades of Gray (4 page)

“Are you coming back in the morning?” he asked.

“Are you crazy? No, I’m not coming back.”

“Then you’re going to miss your surprise,” he lied, pretending that his test hadn’t been the surprise. She stopped and glared at him. Good, he thought, smiling in the face of her glare. At least I have her attention.

“From the look of your surprises I don’t want any more.”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t given you anything yet.”

Janice stopped her packing, planted her feet firmly and put her hands on her hips. “That stunt with Tommy, are you crazy?” She shook her head in disgust.

“You thought that was your surprise?” He laughed, a soft sound that was meant to rattle her nerves. He stroked the panties again. “No baby, that wasn’t your surprise. But I can see that you’re angry with me. I’ll go and cancel the surprise.” He walked back toward the sitting room, ignoring the three phones in the bedroom. He counted to ten, picked up the receiver and began to dial.

“What’s the surprise?”

Simon turned as though he hadn’t known she was standing behind him. “Jay Leno, you’re on his show tomorrow.” He dialed the next number.

“Are you kidding?”

“Would I kid about something that would make your eyes light up?” He sure as hell hoped that it was happening. “I can call it off,” he said and pushed another button.

“Simon, don’t.” Janice came up to him and took the phone from his hand. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“Yes baby, I’m telling you the truth.”

She was breaking. He could almost see her salivate over the prospect. He watched while she toyed with the phone and he knew that although she was debating the wisdom of letting him off the hook, she would cave. The prize was big enough.

“Simon, you pull that shit on me again and you’re history. Do you understand me?”

“I understand you, but tell me something. Why is it that I have the wealth and you have the power?”

“I have no power. You just can’t figure out what makes me tick. The moment you do you’re out of here. Right now I intrigue you. You never know what I’m going to do.”

“We’re getting married. How would I just take off?”

“Do you think I believe marriage will prevent that? There is such a word as divorce.”

Simon was beside her before any more words left her mouth. “Do you think I would want to marry you if I didn’t mean it to be for keeps? If you don’t feel the same you tell me right now. I plan to marry only once.”

His hand shot out and captured her wrist. “Look at me, Janice. I’m not kidding with you, not about this. You might have me by the balls on everything else, but this is not negotiable. If you don’t want to stay married to me, don’t say ‘I do’. If you ever try to leave me after we’re married you will regret it.”

A tremor of fear claimed her and she hesitated just a second. “Don’t threaten me, Simon.” She pointed around the room. “This isn’t angry. You have never seen me angry; you wouldn’t like me when I’m truly angry.” She pulled away from his grasp. “Don’t push me too far.”

“I’d advise you to do the same.” He brought her panties up to his nose and sniffed, his way of aggravating her. He smelled nothing but the newness of the material. “If you ever declare war on me I can promise you that you won’t win. I’d say you’d fare much better with me for a husband than an enemy.”

“I don’t think you want me for an enemy either, Simon, just keep that in mind. If I have to fight dirty, I can and I will.”

“If you’re talking about withholding sex, I’ve lived through that already.”

She smiled and turned to walk away and he pulled her back, brought her body up against his and kissed her neck, his hand ripping at the material of her clothing, pulling it away. He was hotter than the lava that burned beneath volcanoes. For a breath he thought she was going to push him away. Then she suddenly clasped him to her and sank her teeth into his neck, first softly, then a little harder. He trembled from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

There was a hell of a lot more going on between him and Janice than any of the things they admitted to. The pounding in his chest testified to his true feelings for her, but he would be damned if he would be the first one to say it. Besides, he’d meant every word that he said. If she ever forced his hand, he had no doubt that he would go after her with the same vengeance as he did any enemy. He hoped for her sake that she never put his patience to a test.

As her hand curled around his hardened flesh, he groaned out loud. For now she was in control but this was different. This was the bedroom. He didn’t give a damn about giving her the control in the bedroom, just as long as they were both aware that he was giving it to her, that she wasn’t taking it. Control was his to give and his to take away. He groaned louder as she pushed the slacks from his waist and they fell in a puddle at his feet. What the hell, he thought. At this moment she owned him.

Simon looked at Janice with wonder. She did it for him each and every time, and even more so when they were having make-up sex.

Her body was curled around his in a way that made his chest puff out with wonder and longing. His chest tightened even more at the sight of her sweet and sated smile. Who the hell was he fooling? He was in love with her. He had been from the moment he’d seen her across a room filled with hundreds of people. If only he could tell her that. But he couldn’t; she already had too much control over him. His libido was one thing, his heart another.

When she smiled at him in the manner that she was doing now, he wanted to confess all. But he couldn’t be stupid. He remembered how she’d treated him when they first met, before she’d known who he was.

He ran a finger down her jawline. “Why are we always fighting?” he asked her softly.

“Because you’re always trying to control me.”

There was a slight hint of annoyance in her voice and he thought not to push her. She was trailing her fingers over his body, touching him in just the way he liked being touched. He knew he should shift his focus, not concentrate on what he knew to be an explosive situation.

Still, they were getting married, and he wanted whatever the hell had frozen her heart to melt away. Something told him the ice in her came from Tommy Strong.

He didn’t know if she loved the man but he did believe that because of him Janice didn’t or couldn’t confess she loved him. He wanted to hear her say it. He couldn’t let the matter drop until she did.

He allowed his own fingers to investigate her body. Maybe, just maybe, he could have her mellow enough to answer him without bolting from the bed. His fingers were firmly nestled in her warmth, her wetness pouring over him, her heat searing him and her muscles drawing him in deeper. He heard a soft moan escape her and pushed a little deeper.

“Do you still love him?” he asked.

She nestled closer. “Love who?” she asked.

So that was the way she was going to play it, coy. No, not this time, he thought, this matter was far too important. “Tommy Strong, do you still love him?” he asked and held her tighter when she attempted to squirm away.

“For God’s sake, Simon.” She roughly removed his hand from her body and shoved him to the side of the bed.

“If you wanted to know if I was carrying a torch for anyone, why the hell didn’t you just ask?” She glared at him and headed for the shower. He followed.

“Because you won’t talk to me. You either clam up or tell me it’s not any of my damn business.”

“Then why the hell don’t you listen?” Janice shrieked.

Simon glared back. “One minute you tell me to ask, then the next you tell me to mind my own business. How was I supposed to know anything if I didn’t do this? You sure as hell weren’t going to tell me.”

“That’s my right. What is it with you lately, all this talk about love?” She glared again. “That isn’t what this is about with us. Why do you care whom I love?”

That hurt and he knew damn well that she knew it. She would have to be blind and a selfish little witch not to know it.

“I don’t care who you love. I just don’t want you screwing around behind my back after we’re married.”

“Have I ever screwed around behind your back?” she retorted. “Listen, you don’t own me and my body is mine to do with as I please. I haven’t been sleeping around but I have the right to sleep with whoever the hell I want to.”

“Not now and definitely not after we’re married.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t get married.”

They stood glaring at each other until Janice turned on the water for the shower and climbed inside, ignoring him and his feelings.

A moment of uncertainly claimed him and Simon yanked the shower door open. “I’m asking you straight out: Are you still in love with Tommy Strong?”

“It’s been twelve years since I laid eyes on him.”

“I didn’t ask you how long it’s been since you’ve seen him. I asked if you still love him.”

“No,” Janice screamed. “I’m not in love with him. Why do you even care?” She glared, then said as calmly as if she were saying it’s raining outside, “I don’t love anyone. Now close the damn door.”

The pain in his chest tightened and he didn’t attempt to open the door again. For God’s sake, they were getting married. A person would have thought he’d committed a crime. She had to be blind, blind and stupid, to not know he cared, that he loved her. Blind, stupid and just plain bitchy.

She was right about one thing: What they had together was sick. She was constantly telling him that she didn’t love him, and most of the time she behaved as if she were doing him a favor by even being with him. He hated taking it.

He stayed where he was until she got out of the shower. “How did you manage to stay so long in there without getting your hair wet?” he asked, wanting to change the topic as well as wanting to know. Whenever they showered together her hair would be as wet as her beautiful brown body.

“Because I didn’t have some fool holding my head under the water.”

Damn, he’d asked for that one. Still, he was determined to lighten her mood. “My hair always gets wet.”

She was still glaring at him. “I don’t put my head under the water when I don’t want my hair wet.”

“Why?”

“What is this? Why do you need to know every little thing about my life? Simon, back off, you’re pissing me off.”

“I seem to do that to you a lot lately.” He hunched his shoulders. “Ever since you finally agreed to marry me. I wonder why that is.”

“Do you think it might have anything to do with the fact that you practically ordered me to marry you? I was content with things the way that they were. You’re the one who wanted to get married. I never did.”

“You didn’t have to agree.”

“No, I didn’t have to agree but I wanted that carrot you dangled before my nose and you knew that. Do you think my agent could have gotten me that kind of money on a three book proposal from anyone else?”

“Why is money so damn important to you, Janice?”

“Why is it so important to you, Simon?”

“It isn’t.”

“Liar, give it away if it isn’t.”

“I do. I give it to you.” He knew the moment the words were out that he’d gone too far. Her eyes cut through him with the precision of a fine steel blade.

“I earn my money, every dime, either with my writing or in bed. I work my ass off for everything I have.”

“Do you really think your writing is worth the money I’m paying you?” He wasn’t backing off on that. He pointed toward the bedroom. “You’re good, baby, but not that good. Do you really think you’re worth my time?”

She glared at him and her voice was gravely when she spoke. “The question is do you think you’re worth my time? If you don’t like my writing, then I suggest you hire another writer. And if you don’t like the rest,” Janice did as Simon had done and pointed toward the bedroom, “then I would suggest you get someone else.”

She smiled and he wished like hell he hadn’t pushed. They both knew he was a liar on that score and now she’d issued an ultimatum that he wasn’t going to take and instead of putting her in her place, he looked weak and ineffectual.

“Sometime your being bitchy to me is not going to be so amusing. If I were you I would pray that day never comes. I’ll repeat, Janice, you don’t want me for an enemy.”

She smiled as cool as you please. “And you don’t want me for one.”

“I know you say you don’t love me,” Simon said over the lump in his throat, “but sometimes you behave as though you hate me. Do you hate me, Janice?”

“Sometimes I do. Why?”

“I was just wondering.”

Janice cocked her head and observed Simon with a cold stare. She didn’t know what was up with him and she didn’t like it. For the past few months his behavior had become unpredictable. He’d nagged her so long about getting married that she’d finally screamed, ‘Yes,’ just to shut him up. Not the stuff romances were made from. And now he was talking about love and checking on her. She gave him a good hard look. His cold grey eyes revealed nothing, not even passion. That was the one emotion he’d been unable to hide from her.

She hated it when they fought. She felt evil, but she’d learned long ago that she had to be tough, had to not give a damn. She’d played her part so well, worn that veneer for so long that it was now a part of her soul. She couldn’t afford to show she cared, not about anything or anyone other than herself. Her career was the only thing that mattered that she didn’t have to pretend about.