The Prince Brothers: Satisfaction Guaranteed!: Prince's Passion / Prince's Pleasure / Prince's Love-Child

CHAPTER FOUR

‘JULIET INDIA NIXON.’

The name, softly but firmly spoken by Nik Prince as he sat opposite Jinx in the lounge of this large, impersonal London hotel, hung in the air between them like a dark, threatening cloud.

Or maybe that was only the way it seemed to her, Jinx allowed heavily; after all, Nik had absolutely no reason to feel in the least threatened by this meeting. In fact, the opposite, she would have thought.

As evidenced by his air of satisfaction as he leant further over the coffee-table that divided them, that silver gaze easily holding hers as he murmured, ‘That is you, isn’t it, Jinx?’

She forced herself to turn calmly away from those allseeing eyes, not in the least surprised to see the woman sitting alone two tables down in this hotel lounge staring avidly at Nik Prince; he was the sort of man who attracted female attention wherever he went! Not that Nik seemed at all aware of that interested female gaze—no, all of his attention was firmly fixed on her.

Jinx gave the other woman a sympathetic smile before turning away, deliberately adding sugar to one of the two cappuccinos they had ordered, to give herself a little time before answering Nik.

Not that she thought for a moment that time was going to be of any help to her whatsoever; it had already been two days—two excruciatingly tense days!—since the letter had arrived in the post office box from Nik Prince with, ‘Juliet India Nixon or just J. I. Watson? I think we need to talk, don’t you? Reception, The Waldorf, Wednesday at 10.30 a.m.’ written on it. And Jinx was no further now towards knowing how to deal with this forcefully determined man than she had been then!

She could try continuing to bluff her way out of it, of course, although she didn’t hold out much hope of this astutely intelligent man putting up with that for too long. She could try telling him the truth and appealing to his better nature—but did he have a ‘better nature’? The press seemed to think not—and, judging by his tenacity in tracking her down this last week, Jinx was inclined to agree with them.

Her chin rose slightly. ‘What do you want from me?’

Silver eyes gleamed. ‘The truth, of course.’

Her mouth twisted contemptuously. ‘Would you know that if it were to jump up and bite you on the nose?’

That silver gleam became slightly opaque now as his gaze narrowed. ‘Tell me, is this dislike personal, or just a general one towards movie directors?’

A week ago she would have said the latter, but Nik’s behaviour over the last week and a half hadn’t endeared him to her in the slightest. ‘Tell me, Mr Prince, exactly how did you come to the conclusion that I am J. I. Watson, rather than your initial assumption that it was my father?’ She made no effort to keep the derision from her voice.

He looked so much in control sitting across from her, so sure of himself, so—so damned arrogant. Because he was arrogant. And ruthless. A man who didn’t care about the how or why, as long as he got what he wanted. And this week he wanted to meet J. I. Watson. In fact, he believed that was exactly what he was doing.

She had no intention of telling him how wrong he was…

But even now, disliking him as much as she did, it was impossible to deny that just looking at him, so selfassured in casual trousers and a cream silk shirt, made her pulse race, sent a shiver of awareness down the length of her spine.

It had been this way since she’d first looked at him at Susan and Leo’s party. This complete awareness, just his gaze resting on her mouth—as it was now!—making her feel as if he had actually touched her there, caressed her.

‘Does it matter how I found out?’ He shrugged those powerful shoulders dismissively. ‘It is you, isn’t it?’ It was a statement rather than a question.

How to answer that?

She had never expected to have to answer questions like this. Because she had never thought the book would become such a runaway bestseller, with cries from all directions for the appearance of the author. And an offer to buy the film rights from such a prestigious director as Nik Prince…

He was still and silent as he waited for her to answer him, like a stalking tiger with his prey, that silver gaze almost hypnotic.

Jinx gave a deliberate smile, if only to show him that she wasn’t in the least mesmerised. Or in the least daunted by the fact that he believed he had discovered her real identity. ‘And what if it is?’ she evaded. ‘Surely I’ve made it more than obvious that I’m even less interested in your offer for the film rights than my father would have been?’

He arched one dark brow. ‘You haven’t heard my offer yet.’

‘Because I don’t need to.’ She gave a shake of her head, red hair silkily vibrant. ‘I’ve said no. Several times. As James Stephens has obviously informed you.’

Nik Prince once again sat forward in his chair, seeming to fill the whole of Jinx’s vision now. ‘What are you so afraid of, Jinx? Maybe if you tell me that—’

‘You’ll give up on the idea for the film and just go away?’ she scorned.

‘Well, no…I couldn’t exactly say that,’ he conceded wryly.

‘I thought not,’ she rasped.

‘But I might be able to understand your stubborn refusal a little more,’ he continued.

‘Really?’ Jinx gave a disbelieving snort. ‘And why do you imagine that I need your understanding?’

He drew in a harsh breath, his expression grim now, eyes narrowed, lips thinned. ‘Right now, taking your paranoia into account, what you need is my silence, young lady,’ he rapped. ‘Let’s go from there, shall we?’

‘Are you threatening me, Mr Prince?’ she said slowly, replacing her cup and saucer back on the table.

‘No, I’m—’ He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘No, Jinx, I’m not threatening you—’

‘It certainly sounded as if you were.’ She met his gaze unflinchingly.

Nik gave a sigh of obvious frustration. ‘I didn’t ask for this meeting with you today in order to argue with you—’

‘You didn’t ask for this meeting at all, Mr Prince—you demanded it,’ she reminded him forcefully. ‘And you did it with the belief that you had the leverage to talk me into allowing you to purchase the film rights of No Ordinary Boy. So how do you think you’re doing so far?’

‘Badly,’ he conceded heavily.

‘Very badly,’ she confirmed.

‘That’s because you—’ He broke off, staring at her impatiently. ‘Jinx, what do you have against the movie being made?’

‘By you?’ she delayed.

‘By anyone.’

How astute of him to realize that her stubbornness really wasn’t personal, that she would have been just as adamant in her refusal concerning the approach of any film company.

Although she had to say, since meeting Nik Prince, her determination had grown where he was concerned.

Because she recognized his powerful force? Because she knew he wasn’t a man who took no for an answer? Or was it simply that the fierce attraction she felt towards him, from that first moment of meeting him at Susan and Leo’s, made her doubly wary?

She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt attracted to any man, let alone one as forcefully compelling as Nik Prince. She had a good idea where such an attraction could lead if she allowed it to. Which was why she was determined to hold this man, in particular, completely at arm’s length.

‘Jinx?’

She looked across at him, frowning as she tried to remember what his last question had been. ‘Have you read No Ordinary Boy?’

His expression darkened. ‘Well, of course I’ve read it! The whole damn world has read it—’

‘I think that’s somewhat of an exaggeration,’ she scoffed.

‘It’s been published in over ninety countries, in twenty-five languages—’

‘Having received one set of royalties already, I do have all that information,’ she cut in.

‘Then you must also realize that the majority of the people who have read the book believe that J. I. Watson is a man—’

‘As you did,’ she pointed out.

‘As I did,’ he agreed. ‘The book is about a twelve-year-old boy confined to a wheelchair who suddenly discovers he has super mental abilities—’

‘I know what the book’s about, thank you! But you think me incapable of imagining being a twelve-year-old boy?’ she challenged, her unease increasing if that should prove to be the case.

That silver gaze swept over her with slow deliberation, lingering on the curve of her breasts in the cream silk blouse, before moving down the slender length of her legs in fitted black trousers.

Again, it was almost as if he touched her, as if those big, capable hands had actually caressed her, leaving heat wherever they touched.

‘I think,’ he finally said huskily, ‘that you might have trouble imagining being a boy of any age!’

Her heart gave a leap at the warmth she could see in his eyes, the complete awareness of her treacherous body making her answer him sharply. ‘How typically sexist of you, Mr Prince!’

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Not at all, Jinx.’ It seemed he deliberately used her nickname, the name only close friends used. ‘Merely stating it as I see it.’

‘Well, it would appear that you see it wrong, wouldn’t it?’ she taunted.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes now. ‘It would appear so…’ he slowly echoed her words.

Too much, Jinx, she reprimanded herself, she had said far too much; she wanted this man completely out of her life and that of No Ordinary Boy, not to make him all the more curious about its author!

She shook her head. ‘I simply don’t believe that the book would transfer to the big screen.’

He looked derisive now. ‘You don’t?’

Her cheeks flushed angrily at what she sensed was his amusement at her lack of faith in his ability as a film director. Oh, she knew all about this man’s successes, the awards, the Oscars—just as she knew that No Ordinary Boy was so personal to her that she couldn’t allow a third party to rip it apart in order to make a ‘marketable’ film.

‘No, I don’t,’ she snapped.

‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of what does and doesn’t transfer to the big screen?’

He was laughing at her, damn him. When she found little or nothing about this situation in the least amusing. ‘My answer is no, Mr Prince,’ she told him with finality, bending to pick up her bag from the carpeted floor. ‘It will remain no.’

She was leaving!

This tiny slip of a woman, with ice in her eyes and fire in her hair, was walking out on him!

That definitely had to be a first…

He had thought at the weekend, once he had established that Juliet India Nixon was more probably the author of No Ordinary Boy than her father, that he finally had her at a disadvantage, that it would simply be a case of meeting with her today to tie up the loose ends regarding the movie rights. But Jinx Nixon was anything but amenable, was just as determined as she ever had been to thwart him.

‘Just what is it with you, Jinx?’ he challenged as she stood up. ‘Could it be that it’s beneath the highbrow Dr Juliet Nixon to be associated with a work of fiction like No Ordinary Boy?’

If he had thought her eyes cold before, they now turned to fire, her beautiful face flushed with the same anger as she flicked that blazing red hair back over one slender shoulder to glare down at him.

Nik had hoped to evoke some sort of response by his challenge—he just hadn’t been quite prepared for the one he got.

This woman was so beautiful when roused, so vibrantly alive, that he immediately saw her aroused in a completely different way, the image of her lying naked and wanton in his arms causing him to shift uncomfortably as his body responded to that image.

It was totally amazing; he hadn’t physically responded like this just at the thought of a woman in his bed since his college days, but ten minutes in Jinx Nixon’s company and he was doing exactly that.

Something, given the circumstances, he stood about as much chance of achieving where Jinx was concerned as flying to the moon!

He grimaced. ‘I apologize for that remark.’ He sighed, shaking his head. ‘I just don’t understand you.’ Something else that hadn’t happened in a long time.

Perhaps he had become jaded over the years, too accustomed to women wanting something from him, from the power he wielded as head of PrinceMovies, but nothing he said or did seemed to make any difference whatsoever to Jinx’s resolve not to have anything to do with him or his movie company. By itself that was enough to frustrate the hell out of him, but taking his personal—physical!—response to this woman into account, it only made the situation more explosive.

Jinx seemed to be confused herself now, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do next, either.

Nik knew exactly what she wanted to do—tell him goodbye and walk out of here!—but he could also see by the perplexed frown of indecision on her creamy brow that something was holding her back from doing that.

What could it be?

What was this woman still hiding from him?

God, he was arrogant, wasn’t he? Nik recognized with self-disgust. There must be any number of things this woman wasn’t telling him. Probably not just him either; Jinx Nixon came over as a very private person, indeed. In fact, he had a feeling Jinx was the sort of woman it could take a lifetime to get to know.

Hell! It was dangerous to even think about the words ‘Jinx’ and ‘lifetime’ in the same sentence. It wasn’t that he was particularly anti-commitment; after all, his parents had been happily married right up until the day his father had died, and his sister Stazy was certainly happy in her marriage; it just wasn’t an option Nik had ever considered for himself.

So why was he considering it now?

He wasn’t, came the blunt answer. Not seriously. Damn it, he barely knew Jinx Nixon, and the little he did know, that she was stubborn, sassy and highly intellectual, totally nullified the fact that she was so incredibly beautiful.

Nevertheless, Nik still had a feeling, for his own selfpreservation, that the idea of seduction was no longer an option where this woman was concerned.

‘Please sit down again, Jinx,’ he persuaded, still sensing her indecision.

She sat, looking down at her hands now, the fiery curtain of her hair falling forward to caress the paleness of her cheeks as those hands clenched tightly together.

What was it? What had he missed? Because Nik was more convinced than ever that he was missing something, that he just had to find the right button to press and Jinx Nixon would be like putty in his hands. He just had no idea what that button was!

‘Jinx, will you have dinner with me this evening?’

Now where the hell had that come from? Nik wondered dazedly. The idea hadn’t even formed in his mind, let alone been processed for viability—if it had he would have told himself what a bad idea it was for him to spend any more time alone with Jinx, that he just wanted her signature on a contract and then he would be on his way.

She was looking at him now, her head tilted thoughtfully to one side, a slight smile curving that deeply kissable mouth. ‘You didn’t mean to say that…’

‘No,’ he admitted with a wry smile. ‘But having said it…?’

She laughed softly, a huskily evocative sound. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Nik.’

Neither did he—just the sound of his name on her lips was enough to send a sliver of awareness down the length of his spine. ‘Perhaps not,’ he conceded. ‘But I’m asking, anyway.’

How his two brothers would laugh if they could see him now—the arrogantly self-contained Nik willing this tiny woman to have dinner with him tonight. Zak and Rik would find it highly amusing that he had to ask twice at all, let alone exert all of his pressure of will in order to get the positive answer he wanted.

And he did want it. That cautious self-preservation told him to stay as far away from this woman as it was possible for him to be, but all of his natural instincts told him he wanted to be with her again. That he wanted so much more than that.

And he wasn’t averse to using every means at his disposal to achieve his objective!

‘Surely your father won’t mind your going out and leaving him for one evening?’ he prompted softly, closely watching her response to this mention of her father, knowing by the way her expression suddenly became blankly unreadable that he had touched a raw nerve. ‘Just how ill is your father, Jinx?’ he pressed at her continuing silence.

She seemed to flinch at his persistence, her smile having faded long ago, once again withdrawing behind that coolly dismissive mask. ‘I have no intention of discussing my father with you, Nik,’ she snapped. ‘Either now or at any other time,’ she added firmly.

In other words, she wasn’t going to have dinner with him this evening. Damn. Good move, Nik! He cursed his own stupidity in having moved too far, too fast. So much for his finding the right buttons to press…

‘I heard that he had some sort of nervous breakdown a year or so ago?’ he murmured, still sure that Jackson Nixon was the key to this woman’s acquiescence.

Then why did he feel such a heel as her face paled even more, her eyes huge blue pools of pain and confusion as she looked at him incredulously?

‘And where, exactly, did you hear that?’ she demanded, her whole body defensively taut as she sat up straighter in the chair, those tiny breasts unknowingly thrust provocatively forward.

A fact that Nik tried his best to ignore—and failed miserably, able to see the outline of her nipples against the silky fabric of her blouse; indeed, almost able to discern their rosy hue. ‘One of his colleagues at the university mentioned—’

‘You had no right to go anywhere near my father’s colleagues!’ She gasped. ‘This is exactly what I didn’t want! Exactly what I knew would happen once people started snooping about in an effort to meet the author of No Ordinary Boy!’ Two bright spots of colour had appeared in the paleness of her cheeks as she breathed deeply in her agitation. ‘Stay away from my father, Nik! Stay away from anyone who knows him! Most of all—’ she stood up again forcefully ‘—stay away from me!’

He couldn’t do that. Didn’t want to do that. More than ever he wanted this woman to have dinner with him this evening. Forget dinner—he just wanted her with him this evening.

‘Jinx, please sit down—’

‘No way,’ she told him angrily, once again flicking back the fiery length of her hair. ‘I can’t believe you did such a thing! Can’t believe anyone could sink so low as to—’

‘You weren’t exactly cooperating,’ Nik pointed out as he stood up to face her.

Jinx looked at him incredulously. ‘And that was enough for you to pry into my private life, my father’s private life, like some cheap—’

‘Excuse me, Mr Prince—it is Nik Prince, isn’t it?’

Nik had turned sharply at the first sound of the female voice, his angry gaze narrowing warily as he took in the woman’s appearance—short dark hair, deep brown eyes, a pleasantly smiling mouth—as she looked at him enquiringly.

‘The film director?’ the woman pressed brightly.

Nik felt the faint stirrings of unease; in his experience there was only one profession he knew of who pushed their way into other people’s lives in this intrusive way. And as he saw the woman nod to a man who had just entered the lounge, the familiar camera slung about his neck, Nik knew that his guess had been the correct one.

Hell, Jinx was skittish enough already, without finding herself face to face with a reporter and her photographer!

CHAPTER FIVE

‘WHAT do you think you’re doing?’ Jinx squeaked indignantly as she suddenly found her arm grasped in Nik Prince’s vice-like fingers as he began marching her across the room. ‘Nik—’

‘Move!’ he instructed harshly as she attempted to push his hand away from her arm.

‘But I don’t—’ Jinx broke off in alarm as a light was suddenly flashed in her face, momentarily blinding her.

Nik just kept on walking, pulling the semi-blinded Jinx along with him.

What on earth was going on? she wondered dazedly. Who was that woman? The same woman who had been staring at Nik so avidly across the lounge earlier…! Why had Nik wanted to get away from her so quickly? Most puzzling of all, what had been the source of that light that had blinded her?

‘She was a reporter, Jinx,’ Nik told her as he pulled her into the lift and pressed the button to ascend.

But not before another light had flashed brightly, almost in their faces this time, Jinx able to see clearly that the flash had come from a camera being thrust between the rapidly closing lift doors.

‘And he—’ Nik reached out to grab the camera just as the doors closed, the other man’s cry of protest instantly cut off mid-flow ‘—is her associate!’ He released Jinx to open the back of the camera and take out the film and thrust it into his trouser pocket. ‘Damn, damn, damn!’ he muttered grimly as he closed the camera.

A reporter…

Not just a reporter. Paparazzi!

The scourge of the true reporter, whose aim was to report the real news, these other, less professional members of the press weren’t really looking for truth, but went in search of sensationalism.