In The Enemy's Embrace
NICK WENT INTO the kitchen and poured himself a healthy shot of brandy. He’d tried to work on a prospectus report for a software company he was considering investing in, but the sound of water rushing through the pipes was too much of a distraction. Especially knowing Jessica Coleman was the one standing naked in his shower.
Damn it, he should have just left the clothes outside the door. He’d only meant to stick his arm in and put the stuff on the counter. How the hell was he to know the mirror angle gave a perfect reflection of the shower—and its occupant? Now, in addition to a twelve-year-old kiss haunting him, he had the image of her naked curvy body to keep him up nights.
She could have been burned tonight, lost her life. That one vulnerable look she’d given him when he’d first shown up at the fire would forever be etched in his mind. It had said, Hold me, please. And he’d wanted to, wanted to take care of her, but he was scared to touch her.
Jessica Coleman had been off-limits for so long. He was weak when it came to her, didn’t trust himself to let go, and that made him mad.
The very worst thing he could do was get involved with a Coleman. He and Jess had been like water and oil since the moment they’d met—flammable, volatile, passionate oil. Love and hate walked a very thin line. To act on that emotion, see where it would take them, was too dangerous. One or both of them would likely get burned. And what happened between them would naturally affect the business.
Coleman-Grayson Investment Company was too important to him to take a chance on ripping it apart because of personal conflict.
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you what a shame it’d be if your face ended up getting stuck in that position?”
He looked up, became aware that his brows were indeed drawn together in a frown, then promptly lost his entire train of thought.
She wore a white bathrobe he kept for guests who came to swim. He could see the collar of his T-shirt he’d lent her beneath the plunging V of the robe. Her legs and feet were bare and he wondered if she was wearing the drawstring shorts he’d laid out for her. Her long red hair was a mass of damp curls, framing her face and sliding over her shoulders. Her face was void of makeup, making her look even younger. That should have had the effect of ice water dumped over his head, but it didn’t.
Although she was perfectly decent, his body was humming as if she’d walked into the room stark naked.
Nerves crowded when she sauntered over to him, reached out and brushed his forehead with her finger.
“It’s your skin, but seems a shame to promote early wrinkles like this.” She plucked the brandy glass out of his hand, sipped, her gaze still on his.
Her eyes were unique, one green and the other blue—something he’d never seen on anyone before. That was the kind of thing that sticks in a man’s mind. It’d stuck in his since the day he first laid eyes on her.
“Did you want a glass?” he asked.
“This one’s fine. Why don’t you just pour yourself another?”
Not many people came into his home and told him what to do. They wouldn’t dare. Obviously Jessica Coleman dared.
He might have called a halt to it, but the sultry pitch of her voice, the seduction in those unique eyes, was rendering him stupid.
Determined to break the spell, he got down another crystal glass and poured brandy in it, putting distance between them in the process.
“Did you want me to show you to your room?”
She grinned. “Are you trying to tell me it’s past my bedtime?”
“Do you have to challenge everything I say?”
“Habit, I suppose.”
“Well, suppose you can break it?”
“A truce works two ways, you know.”
He wasn’t sure how a man could be annoyed and want to smile at the same time. Jessica Coleman just flat out confounded him.
“I’m game if you are,” he said.
“Are you sure you don’t want to give me a lift to the nearest hotel? I mean, practically tripping over each other like this will likely cramp both our styles.”
“It’s a big place. I doubt we’ll trip.”
“We’ll definitely be aware of each other, though. And I, at least, have a fairly active social life.”
“And what makes you think I don’t?”
She shrugged. “I guess it’s just hard to imagine. You’re stuffy, all business. You never knew how to enjoy what was offered.”
He saw the quickly masked distress in her eyes, knew she hadn’t meant to blurt those words, knew that she was referring to that long-ago kiss. He knew he’d hurt her, but until now, hadn’t realized the depth of that pain.
But damn it, she’d been jailbait back then, and he’d hated the pull of attraction he felt for the kid, fought it like crazy. All it had taken was a long look into those intriguing eyes filled with curiosity and mystery—yes, even at that young age, Jessica Coleman had exuded an innocent sensuality that promised bliss. She’d scared the hell out of him. And because of that, he’d mishandled her tender feelings, crushed her spirit.
But she was no longer a girl of thirteen, and the man in him had been goaded just about enough.
Obviously her crushed spirit had only been a temporary setback.
Chapter Two
Jessica’s heart pounded as Nick deliberately stepped toward her, his dark eyes filled with intent. He crowded her, trapped her between his body and the kitchen cabinets, twined a finger around one of her damp curls and toyed with the end where it just brushed the slope of her breast, all the while holding her gaze with his.
“Careful how you taunt, cowgirl. We’re all grownup now.”
Dear heaven, she hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to keep up this act. She could well be out-matched, but she was darned if she’d give it up now.
“So nice of you to notice,” she said, and neatly ducked beneath his arms. “Too bad I’m no longer interested.”
“Is that a dare?”
Jessica tucked her hair behind her ear, fought to get the jolt of awareness under control. She knew she was playing with fire and needed to backtrack in a hurry. Nick Grayson was a worthy opponent, not someone to underestimate. “Of course not.”
“Sounded that way to me. A statement of disinterest is practically an open invitation to prove just the opposite.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Chill out, would you?” Actually, she was the one who needed to chill out. The man oozed seduction and danger from every masculine pore. She was fast finding herself in over her head. And that was not a position she wanted to be in.
She held up her hands to form a T. “Truce, okay? We’ve known each other for years. There’s no reason in the world why we can’t get along just fine as temporary roommates. I’ll contact the insurance people in the morning and see if the contents of the apartment were covered.”
“Since Coleman-Grayson owns the building, I don’t imagine you’ll have any trouble settling.”
“Fine, then. As soon as I can find a new apartment and new furniture and stuff, I’ll be out of your hair. Until then…” She moved forward and held out her hand. “Friends?”
He enveloped her hand in both of his. His palms were wide and warm, and she felt the oddest vibration shimmy up her arm.
“Friends,” he agreed. “As for the house rules, make yourself at home—though I expect you to respect my privacy and go easy on the loud music and wild parties.”
“Likewise.” Why wasn’t he letting go of her hand? And why was he staring into her eyes like that? The word that came to mind was hungry. She licked her lips. “If you have a date or want to bring a lady home, I’ll make myself scarce. Just warn me in advance.”
He took a step closer. “So, I’m not too stuffy to date and have women friends?” His voice was soft and deep and filled with a sensuality she didn’t quite know how to respond to.
What was going on here? Sparks were literally zinging between them. Oh, she’d wanted to make Nick Grayson drool. But she hadn’t counted on this sneak attack he seemed to be waging, setting her off balance.
Instead of answering his question, she said, “Look…uh, I think we’re both tired. I don’t know about you, but being rudely wakened to find your house on fire is enough to…” Her voice hitched and she cleared it. “Enough to…” Oh, Lord, she was going to cry. She could feel it and she was mortified. Her nose and throat burned, and her eyes stung.
She tried to back away, but Nick used their joined hands to pull her right into the comforting width of his chest.
“I wondered when that was going to catch up with you,” he murmured, stroking her hair, her back, soothing her with the sweep of his wide palm. “Shh, you’re safe with me now, kiddo.”
Jessica stiffened. Kiddo. She didn’t want him thinking about her as a kid, but obviously he did.
She stepped back. “I’m fine. Really. I think I’ll just turn in.”
The frown was back on his face. She watched his chest rise and fall with a deep breath, tried not to notice how his black polo shirt clung to the breadth of his physique.
She should have learned her lesson twelve years ago. Nick saw her merely as the daughter of a business partner. She was the one who kept getting mixed up, reading more into a look or touch than was actually there. It wasn’t his fault that he was born with the kind of looks that naturally made a woman fantasize, forget who, what and where she was.
But Jessica needed to remember.
In his eyes, they would never be on an equal footing. She’d be the kid and he’d be the guy her parents had asked to watch over her.
And that simply wasn’t acceptable.
He nodded and turned away from her. “I’ll show you to your room.”
FOR THE FIRST TIME in years, Nick overslept. Shrugging into his suit jacket, he finished knotting his tie as he went down the stairs. He was debating whether to head on out the front door and grab coffee at the office, or take the time to drink it here when he heard voices and laughter coming from the kitchen.
Jessica’s sultry, unrestrained laughter, and the deeper, carefree chortle of his younger brother, Chase.
He’d forgotten that Chase was due home for his annual visit. At twenty-five, his brother had yet to settle on what he wanted to be when he grew up. At present, he fancied himself a carefree playboy, with Europe as his playground of choice.
Well, that wasn’t exactly so, or fair. Chase raced cars and yachts and made a fortune at it. He was the kind of guy who’d wither away if he had to sit behind a desk or preside over meetings all day.
Jealousy speared Nick right in the solar plexus when he stopped in the kitchen doorway. It was a new emotion and it bothered him.
Jessica, still wearing the clothes Nick had given her last night—minus the robe, he noted—was sitting at the kitchen table chatting with Chase. They were both the same age, so easily enjoyed a good laugh. Just watching them made Nick feel sixty-three, instead of thirty-three.
For as long as he could remember, he’d been the responsible one, the sensible one, the driven one. Had he ever let himself laugh the way Chase was doing now?
And what the hell was so funny, anyway? He didn’t like this feeling of being on the outside.
“You’re up and about early this morning,” he said.
Chase looked up and grinned. “And you’re late, big brother.” Chase stood and enveloped Nick in a hug. “Good to see you slacking off a bit. And with such beautiful company.”
“She’s not company.”
“Oh? Sorry, I didn’t know you were living with somebody.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh, stop teasing him, Chase,” Jessica said. “He’s pulling your chain, Nick. I already told him about the fire.”
Nick moved over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. He needed a shot of caffeine to clear his head.
“It made the paper,” Chase said. “Our Jess is a heroine. Saved a kid and his cat.”
“The media exaggerates.” Jessica scooted the newspaper aside. She’d done what needed to be done, didn’t want the accolades the paper had given her, didn’t want to think about what might have happened if she hadn’t seen Timmy Matheson trip and fall. The fearlessness of children, she thought. While everyone else had been scrambling for an exit, Timmy had ignored his mother’s screams and charged back toward their burning apartment.
“Did the papers say how the fire started?” Nick asked.
“Paint cans too close to a water heater.”
“That’ll do it. You’ll want to call your folks. Chances are the story made the Bridle paper, as well.”
“I already called.” She resisted the urge to tack on sir. “And I called the office this morning, too. Steve’s going to get the ball rolling with the insurance company and check on the painting contractor’s coverage, as well.” Steve Tyler worked in accounting at Coleman-Grayson.
“Busy girl.”
“I usually am.” Not that he would know that firsthand, given the way he’d been avoiding the office lately. Ever since she’d come to work there. “By the way, I’m taking the day off to shop for a replacement wardrobe. I’ve already called Rhonda to let her know I won’t be in.”
“If I didn’t have a prior commitment,” Chase said, “I’d offer to go with you and carry your packages.”
“A man who actually likes to shop? Be still my heart.” She glanced at Nick. “Are you sure the two of you are brothers? Mr. All Business Nick probably wouldn’t think of taking time off to carry a woman’s shopping bags.”
“On the contrary,” Nick said, leaning back against the counter, “I’d enjoy a day at the mall.”
Caught off guard, Jessica’s jaw dropped.
Amusement and satisfaction danced in his eyes. “A good business lesson, Red. Never make a firm statement that you can’t back up with fact. How does nine-forty-five suit you?”
She regained her composure. “It suits me, um, fine—provided I can find something decent to wear in public.” She’d thrown away her smoke-drenched pajamas, and the only thing she had left was what she was wearing—the drawstring shorts and T-shirt Nick had lent her to sleep in.
“You look pretty decent to me,” Chase commented with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Don’t you have someplace you need to be?” Nick asked him.
Chase grinned. “Yeah. I guess I should go check in with the folks, let them know I’m in town. I imagine they’ll want to get us all together for dinner.”
Nick nodded. “Just let me know when.”
“Will do.” Chase lifted Jessica’s hand and gallantly bowed over it, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “It was great to see you again, Jess. Really great. I’ll call you.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” she said.
Nick had trouble swallowing his coffee and was barely civilized enough to shake Chase’s hand as his brother left.
What was Chase thinking? Had he forgotten that they’d both made a pact not to date friends of the family? Three years ago Chase had been engaged to the daughter of their mother’s best friend. Everything had been fine until the relationship shattered. Ugly words and accusations had flown from both sides. There were squabbles over money, the diamond engagement ring and who was at fault. Both families had been dragged into the fray, each forced to choose sides, effectively ruining a long-standing friendship.
When it came to Jessica, not only did they risk ruining another friendship, but a business partnership, as well.
“There’s that charming expression I’ve come to know and love,” Jessica said as she got up from the table and walked toward him. She brushed a finger over his forehead, and he jerked back so fast he nearly spilled his coffee.
She grinned. “Got any girl clothes around here?”
“None that come to mind. If you want, you can rummage through my closet and see if anything will fit. I’ve got workout clothes you can probably make do with.”
“See how well we’re doing with our truce? I’m sleeping in your bed and wearing your clothes—all in the space of a day. Pretty darn good if you ask me.”
Nick choked on a swallow of hot coffee. Jessica helpfully thumped him on the back and sashayed out of the room.
God almighty, he wasn’t sure he’d survive that woman.
THE GALLERIA MALL in Dallas was a shopper’s paradise. And Nick soon found out that Jessica was an expert at the sport of shopping and could cull choice merchandise off every sale rack like a pro.
He’d discarded his suit jacket an hour ago outside the dressing room of Macy’s. Now, slouched in a chair outside yet another dressing room—Nordstrom’s this time—he loosened the knot of his tie and punched in another number on his cell phone. The reception inside the store was the pits, and after being cut off for the third time, he switched it off.
He’d made a huge mistake by letting Jessica goad him. His pride had gotten in the way and look where he was. She kept sauntering out of the dressing rooms, wearing outfit after outfit, asking his opinion as though they were girlfriends instead of business partners. A bag sat at his feet filled with lingerie she hadn’t modeled for him—thank God. The images his mind was supplying made him sweat.
Toeing the bag a little farther away so it would quit antagonizing him, he looked up and nearly dropped the phone in his hand and his senses to boot.
She wore a siren-red dress that clung to every sweet curve of her body and made him think of hot sex and endless nights.
“Well?” she asked, and executed a pirouette.
He cleared his throat. “Not exactly office attire.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. His heart slammed against his chest. He wondered if she’d done it on purpose, if she knew how sexy that pose was, the way her raised arms pulled the material over her breasts as she lifted her hair off her neck, piling it on top of her head.
“Too much, hmm?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She turned to face him. “Then what do you say?”
“It’s very…nice.” Total understatement. He’d gone from zip to hard in two seconds flat. No way could he stand up at the moment without embarrassing himself. And damned if he’d give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten to him. The imp was having too much fun as it was. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was deliberately being seductive.
“I probably shouldn’t get it. I don’t know where I’d wear it.”
“What about that hot and heavy social life you were talking about?”
She gave him a smile that nearly knocked the breath out of him. Not the put-on smile of a seductress. A sweet smile. An easy smile. “To tell the truth, my social life’s not as hot and heavy as I might have led you to believe.”
Just that simply, with that easy honesty, Nick felt his guard drop. About the time he thought he had her figured out, she did an about-face and said something that blew his perception of her out of the water.
Despite his best intentions to keep his distance and his control around Jessica Coleman, her innate charm was too much to resist.
“That dress was made for you, Red. You should get it.”
She gave him a grin. “Okay. That’s about all the arm twisting I need to…yikes!”
“What?”
“Did you see the price tag on this thing?” She flashed it in front of his face, then shook her head and whirled around. “Forget it.”
Dumbfounded, Nick watched her disappear back into the dressing room. The woman was a mass of contradictions. She could afford to buy ten dresses and pay double what the price tag said. The fact that she wouldn’t intrigued him. He’d always thought Jessica Coleman was pampered and spoiled, with nothing more pressing on her mind than shopping and parties. Lately he’d had to rethink quite a few of his preconceived notions.
And how many of those notions were his own defense mechanisms kicking in? Was he intent on finding fault in hopes of diluting the sexual sizzle he felt every time she walked into a room?
He didn’t know the answers. He did know, however, that the “come and get me, baby” red dress had her name written on it.
After summoning the salesclerk, he said, “The red dress the young lady was just trying on? Put it on my charge, gift wrap it and mail it to this address.” He handed her a business card, along with his credit card.
“A surprise?” the clerk asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be the soul of discretion.”
“YOU KNOW, I usually prefer to shop alone,” Jessica said, glancing up at the Galleria’s dramatic glass atrium above them. “And frankly, I was dreading you tagging along today. I couldn’t believe you actually volunteered.”
“I only did because you were so sure I wouldn’t.”
She bumped her shoulder against his. The silky material of the summery dress she’d bought at the first department store felt good against her skin, made her feel like herself again. A trip to the makeup counter and a complimentary makeover had her skin glowing and her eyes and mouth enhanced to where she felt the score between them was a bit more even. It had been torture walking into a mall with a gorgeous man when she was wearing oversize clothing and her face was naked.
“Well, now you’re in it for the duration.”
“You mean you’re not done?” He looked toward one of the exit doors on the mall’s lower level. Sunlight pierced the glass ceiling overhead, splashing rainbows over the gleaming floors.
“I need shoes, Grayson. Lots of them. Where is your shopping spirit?”
“I think I lost it back between the Levi’s and Guess jeans.”
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me which pair looked better on my butt.”
“Don’t start, Red. I do have a healthy amount of self-preservation.”
“Well, see if I ever take you shopping with me again,” she huffed dramatically.
“Please don’t.”
She laughed and bumped his shoulder again. “You’re being a pretty good sport. I’m surprised.”
“There’s probably a lot about me that would surprise you.”
“Give it a try. Tell me something about you—schooldays, let’s say.”
“What, like a truth-or-dare kind of thing?”
“Hmm, that could get interesting.” Though not what she’d had in mind. “I’m game if you are.”
He shook his head. “Forget it. You scare me.”
That tickled her. Even though she doubted that anything scared Nick Grayson.
“What were you like in high school?”
“Like any other kid, I guess. I was a football quarterback in high school and college, and had a chance to go pro.”
“You passed up the opportunity for fame and fortune?” He was a good four inches over six feet and had shoulders that filled out his suit jacket without the benefit of padding.
“I’ve got the fortune. And I used my mind to get it, rather than beating up my body. Figured I’d leave the fame for Chase.”
“Ah, driven even as a young man.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “I needed to feel ancient today.”
She laughed. “Really, Nick. You should play more. Not take life so seriously.” They were headed toward the huge ice rink in the mall. Music vied with crying children, giggling shrieks of teens and the noisy hum of shoppers. “Hey, why don’t we go ice skating?”
“I thought you needed shoes.”
“I do. But as long as we’re playing hooky from work, we might as well go whole hog. Chicken?”
“Get real. I could skate circles around you. After all, I’ve had years more practice than you.”
“Poked at your ego, did I? Thirty-three is still a young man, Nick. Funny how twelve years ago, the eight-year age difference between us was unacceptable.” She plucked a green shirt off a sale rack outside a boutique and held it to her chest. “Now it’s not an issue. Why’s that?”
“Experience.” He shook his head, took the shirt out of her hand and replaced it on the rack. “And until you’re eighteen, you’re considered jailbait.”
“Oh, like my father actually would’ve had you arrested if you’d kissed me.” She hadn’t meant to bring up this issue. It had just slipped out. The best thing, she decided, was to simply act sophisticated, as though it was no big deal.
He urged her forward with a hand at her back. “I imagine he would have. And it could have split up the business, as well. Which is why we’re not going to continue this conversation.”