Authors: Anne Rainey
“I’m supposed to attend al of the meetings and functions Samantha was going to attend while she was here,” she said, then paused, staring at him.
“Okay . . .” he said slowly. How the hel was she supposed to stand in for a man meeting his grandmother for the first time?
She wrinkled her nose when she tilted her head, as if she didn’t understand his response. Since he simply accepted what she’d just told him, he didn’t see any reason to elaborate. And he didn’t mind just staring at her. Jenny Rogers was easily one of the sexiest women he’d ever laid eyes on. He wondered if her rather vanil a outfit was her natural attire or if she dressed differently when not under the charge of the Winston entourage.
“What I mean is I’m seeing appointments, then reporting back to her.”
“What do you report to her?”
“My impressions mainly. That seems to be al she wants.”
“I’m to be interviewed before I am al owed to meet my grandmother?”
“You’re on her appointment list. If she was supposed to meet you, I guess you get me instead.” Jenny glanced up at him and gave him a smal smile. She looked down at her hands before he could hold on to her gaze. Was she blushing over the double meaning that could be read into her words? Was she real y that innocent? She was stil hot as hel with an interesting accent. He’d guess Minnesota, but it wasn’t strong the way some in that region spoke. He liked the way it sounded, though.
Hel , he was even attracted to her modest attire. The straight-cut gray skirt she wore ended just above her knees, and her sleeveless blouse was tucked into her skirt and showed off her slender waist. Her hips weren’t too round, but she didn’t appear too skinny either. Her creamy white skin wasn’t pale, just natural looking.
Ric knew women. For years he’d made them his most focused project. And at a young age, possibly younger than many men, he’d figured out the type of woman who most satisfied him. Upper-class, hesitant, brainwashed, demure ladies weren’t it. Unless he saw something inside them, like something he saw in Jenny, hinting that a darker side existed.
There was a particular quality a woman possessed indicating she wasn’t as vanil a as others. Ric had managed more than once to pul desires out of a lady she never knew existed within her. He didn’t think that was the case with Jenny.
Jenny Rogers was an il usion, right down to her simple Midwestern name. She was doing her best to appear modest, wel bred, polite, and sophisticated. She shot him quick, furtive glances, suggesting she was shy, uncomfortable in his presence. Yet he would swear on his mother’s grave Jenny was putting on an act.
If that were the case, what else might she be playing?
“No thanks,” he said, and turned from her. Ric reached his truck, reminding himself no matter what might lie under the polite, modest layers of this auburn beauty, the point stil remained Samantha Winston wasn’t here. He needed to think, redirect his course, and talking to a sultry goddess with mysteries lying beneath her surface wouldn’t help his case.
When Ric reached for the door handle, Colby sat up, her ears high on her wrinkled forehead, and assessed the situation. The moment Jenny approached his side, touching the side of his truck, Colby let out a baying howl. It was her protective bark, although Ric couldn’t tel if she was protecting his truck or her bone.
Jenny didn’t jump back or appear startled by the dog. “Oh, wow, a bloodhound,” she breathed as if they were her favorite breed.
“Yup.” He had half a mind to open the door and “accidental y” let Colby slip past him, just to see if he could break Jenny’s soft-spoken, sophisticated act.
“Ric, Mr. Karaka,” she said, dismissing Colby and focusing on him, this time not pul ing her gaze from the side of his head. “I know you’re disappointed. Samantha Winston had quite a few appointments set up for her time here.” She hesitated, chewing her lower lip and obviously choosing her words careful y. “I understand your meeting was quite a bit more personal than her other appointments.” Again she paused. “But if you’re wil ing to talk to me, possibly share with me how you discovered Samantha Winston or maybe something about your past . . .”
He looked at her, knowing his expression was hard and his temper seethed beneath his barely contained composure. He wanted to pound his truck. He wanted to take off and tear around the island, releasing the steam and fury building inside him. And he didn’t care if Jenny saw how quick tempered he could be. It didn’t bother him if she witnessed some of his aggression, and it definitely wouldn’t be al he could release.
What he didn’t expect was for her eyes to widen, her round, moist mouth to pucker when she sucked in a breath. There was no way she couldn’t see how mad he was right now, but instead of cowering or politely dismissing him and returning to her perfect world of order and old money, she stood there and faced his fury.
Ric lowered his gaze slowly, curious if showing her more than his anger might make her back off. He let his attention travel hungrily down her body, taking in her ful , round breasts pressing against her sleeveless blouse. He couldn’t see her bra, although it was obvious she wore one.
Her nipples were hard, even though it was warm outside. A loose strand of hair fel free from her clip and drooped around her face, curling against her long, slender neck. He was being a prick and he knew it, but damn her anyway for trying to appease him when she didn’t have a clue how Samantha Winston not showing up destroyed plans he’d been foolish enough to believe he could pul off in the first place.
“You want to spend time with me and know me better?” he growled.
“You had an appointment with Samantha, and I’m supposed to see to al her meetings,” she said, basical y repeating herself as if the words were a mantra she was holding on to in order to maintain her civility.
“Meeting with you wouldn’t be the same as meeting with an old lady who is a grandmother I’ve never met,” he informed her, purposely lowering his voice and taking a step toward her.
Jenny stood her ground, tilting her head to hold his gaze. He saw the slender vein at the top of her col arbone pounding with her heartbeat. It was barely visible at the edge of her shirt but was tantalizing nonetheless. Ric imagined yanking the sleeveless shirt out of the way, possibly popping a few buttons off, and tasting her smooth, creamy flesh.
“I understand.”
He seriously doubted she did. “I’l return at eight tonight. Be outside the hotel when I pul in by the front door,” he ordered, forcing his attention from her and opening his car door. Ric pushed Colby back and climbed into his truck. “Oh, and wear something nice,” he added, then closed his door before she could final y tel him to go to hel .
APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2011 by Anne Rainey
Al rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-7229-4