Seductive Fantasy

“I want to find out what that dress is hiding,” Jackson whispered

Alexis smoothed her fingers down the front of his shirt, a sassy, impudent light brightening her eyes. “If you’re lucky, I’ll let you,” she teased.

Jackson tightened his grip on her hips. With gradual pressure, he drew her closer so their bodies brushed enticingly, just enough to tantalize. “Just so you know right up front, I want to do things with you and to you that might shock you.”

“I want to be shocked,” she said, moving her thighs restlessly against his.

He nearly groaned as a hot jolt of awareness settled low. “You’ll do whatever I want?” he continued. He needed to know how far she’d go with him, if she’d be willing to shed every inhibition on a whim.

Alexis entwined her arms around his neck, crushing her breasts against his chest. Softness to hardness. Heartbeat to heartbeat. Her fingers slid into the hair at the nape of his neck, her thumbs gently massaging the taut muscles there.

“I’ll do anything,” she said in a husky whisper. “And everything…”

Dear Reader,

May 2001 marks the celebration of the Get Caught Reading campaign, a national promotion created by North American publishers to encourage reading for the sheer joy of it. Books can take you into totally different worlds—worlds where the good guys always win, where love conquers all and where even the most unattainable fantasy can be fulfilled. And speaking of fantasies…

Welcome to FANTASIES INC., a place where your deepest desires can be satisfied. Seductive Fantasy is one of four lush island resorts that cater to provocative requests, which suits Jackson Witt’s purpose just fine since he’s got seductive revenge in mind. Alexis Baylor is looking to be seduced, but little does she know the gorgeous stranger who pursues her is more than an innovative lover. Both indulge in erotic pleasures and sensual adventures that leave them wanting more than they’d originally bargained for, but what happens when Jackson’s true identity—and fantasy—is revealed?

Don’t miss the upcoming books in the miniseries—Secret Fantasy, Intimate Fantasy and Wild Fantasy. Each will transport you to a private world full of decadent possibilities. In the meantime, I’d love to hear what you think of Seductive Fantasy. You can write to me at P.O. Box 1102, Rialto, CA 92377-1102, or at janelle@janelledenison.com.

Do you have a secret fantasy?

Janelle Denison

Seductive Fantasy

Janelle Denison

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Don.

You’re living proof that fantasies do come true.

This one is for you alone.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Prologue

ALEXIS BAYLOR wanted to have an affair and conceive a baby, and Merrilee Schaefer-Weston would do her best to accommodate the other woman’s request. Merrilee’s business was, after all, all about fulfilling her guests’ fantasies.

“Ms. Weston, the seaplane is due to land at Seductive Fantasy in half an hour. The express boat is ready to take you to the island to greet our arriving guests.”

Merrilee glanced up from reviewing Alexis Baylor’s fantasy requisition papers and smiled at her assistant. Fantasies, Inc. encompassed a cluster of four lush paradise resorts off the Florida Keys. While her main office was situated on Wild Fantasy, the first of four island retreats, she traveled daily via boat to the other three themed resorts: Seductive Fantasy, Intimate Fantasy and Secret Fantasy.

“Thank you, Danielle.” She glanced at her wristwatch, noting the time. “I’ll be at the dock in ten minutes.” Before her assistant turned to leave her office, Merrilee asked, “By the way, has personnel hired another pilot to replace Mark?”

“Yes, they have.” Danielle thumbed efficiently through her notes on the clipboard she carried. Her finger came to a stop halfway down the page. “Here he is. C. J. Miller is slated to take over Mark’s position next month, as scheduled.”

Miller. As always when Merrilee encountered the very common last name, a head-to-toe chill swept through her, along with a flood of bittersweet memories of being young and head over heels in love. Those beloved recollections of her soulmate hadn’t faded one iota over the thirty-five years that had passed between her romantic love affair with Charlie Miller, his unexpected and devastating death in Vietnam, and her marriage of convenience to a man twenty-three years older than her.

Merrilee had struggled through the lonely years that ensued, being a dutiful, faithful spouse to a cold, unemotional man who treated her more like a possession than a wife. She hadn’t even had the luxury of having children to fill her life with joy; her husband’s impotence had prevented that.

Upon his death five years ago, she’d inherited millions—more money than she’d ever realized Oliver was worth. She’d never enjoyed the role of pampered wife and couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life languishing in a mansion. And so, Fantasies, Inc. was born.

It might be too late for her to find ultimate happiness, but she’d decided to use her inheritance to fulfill other people’s fantasies. She lived vicariously through the pleasure and satisfaction they discovered while on her island resorts. There was no fantasy—be it romance, adventure, or deeper desires that bared one’s soul—that Fantasies, Inc. couldn’t provide.

Never in her wildest dreams would she have believed her concept and themed island resorts would be so hugely, phenomenally successful.

“Ms. Weston?”

The distant voice of her assistant effectively pulled Merrilee back to the present. She blinked, shook the past from her mind, and focused in on the concern etching Danielle’s features. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

The young woman tipped her head, regarding her curiously. “We were talking about the new pilot, C. J. Miller.”

This time, Merrilee kept her thoughts firmly grounded and on business. “C. J. Miller. Right,” she murmured, jotting down the name—as if she could forget it—and the date the man was scheduled to take over Mark’s position.

“I’ll go tell the boat driver you’ll be at the dock shortly.” With a swish of her perky ponytail, Danielle turned and left the office.

With only a few minutes to spare, Merrilee picked up the fantasy request she’d been pondering before her assistant’s interruption. Alexis Baylor wanted to be desired and pursued by a gorgeous, sexy man, and hoped to conceive a baby with no strings attached; the man’s involvement would stop there. While it would be easy to find a man eager to accommodate Alexis’s request for a hot, erotic, one-week liaison, this particular fantasy had lifetime repercussions Merrilee doubted the woman had considered in her quest to fill that empty void in her life. Happily-ever-afters were Merrilee’s specialty, and she always tried to give her clients two choices at the end of their fantasies—either walk away and continue as they were before, or take a risk that could reshape their whole entire life.

Merrilee drummed her manicured fingernails on her desktop and noted the date of Alexis’s fantasy vacation. Though she couldn’t guarantee conception—only fate could assure that—she had a month to figure out the woman’s perfect match and donor. A man who’d fit both Alexis’s and Merrilee’s criteria. For Alexis, a man in his prime, both physically and sexually, who would seduce her single-mindedly. For Merrilee, a man who’d never shirk his responsibilities should he learn the truth. A man of integrity who’d ultimately fight for what was his. If that’s how this particular fantasy played out.

All Merrilee could do was bring two matched souls together…it was up to the couple to grasp the happily-ever-after within their reach.

1

“DAMN THAT Alexis Baylor,” Jackson Witt muttered beneath his breath.

Four years ago, Jackson vowed he’d never allow another woman to dupe him. That Alexis Baylor, a complete stranger, had managed to accomplish that feat not only made him feel like a fool, but also incensed him beyond reason. He was certain that sensation wouldn’t abate until this whole aggravating mess was over. And it would be…just as soon as he discovered Alexis Baylor’s greatest weakness and used it against her. Just as she’d used him.

The woman’s underhandedness had hit him professionally as well as personally—right at the heart of his company, Extreme Software. He was still reeling from the knowledge that Fred Hobson, a man he’d hired on as part of his design team, had been a plant to steal the secret technology Jackson had spent years perfecting. The man had abruptly quit nine months ago and was conveniently and immediately picked up by Gametek, the company Fred had previously worked for before hiring on with Jackson’s firm. Gametek had obviously wasted no time utilizing Extreme Software’s design.

In Jackson’s opinion, and with the facts he had at his disposal, it was no coincidence that the proprietary code Gametek had used in their new, revolutionary gaming software matched his exactly, or that Alexis Baylor, owner of Gametek, was a ruthless businesswoman who’d stooped to piracy to obtain success.

With a disgusted grunt, Jackson tossed aside the Business Wire he’d printed from the Internet a week ago—his first shocking insight into Gametek’s violation. The company’s press release announced that their innovative action-adventure game, Zantoid, compliments of his technology, was scheduled for market introduction that fall. Seemingly overnight, Gametek, a San Diego-based gaming software company Jackson had never heard of before this fiasco, was suddenly a big competitor. After Gametek’s public statement, their stock shot to an all-time high and was holding steady…and would plummet to an all-time low by the time Jackson was done with Gametek, and Alexis Baylor.

The stakes were personal, an unwelcome reminder of how women always wanted something from him, from his own mother to the ladies he dated. Usually it was his money and what it could buy that women found so attractive, and while Alexis Baylor didn’t have a direct hand in his wallet, she sure as hell had a direct source to his financial gain. He’d worked too damned hard to build his company, struggled through too many lean years to allow this woman to reap the benefits of something that was his.

Glancing at the clock on the wall in his office, he noted the time of 8:50 a.m. He had another ten minutes before Mike Mansel arrived. Mike was his best friend, as well as the private investigator Jackson had hired for an in-depth, confidential report on Alexis Baylor. He wanted specific details on the woman, from what she ate for breakfast, to whom she was seeing, to what she did in her leisure time, and every idiosyncrasy, no matter how mundane, Mike could discover.

Feeling edgy and impatient, Jackson pushed away from his desk and stood. He paced in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows dominating one entire wall in his Atlanta high-rise office, but the movement did little to burn his restless energy.

He’d already discussed with his attorneys about filing a complaint alleging copyright infringement, unfair competition, trade secret violations, and a bunch of other legal mumbo jumbo, which included seeking an injunction against Gametek to keep their software from hitting the market while they battled specifics in court. While his lawyers explored all legal possibilities against Gametek, Jackson craved personal compensation—a way of evening the score between himself and Alexis Baylor.

He wanted to take something from her, just as she’d stolen from him, something private and emotional that would never allow her to forget who he was, and what she’d done. He refused to let yet another woman use him for her own gain and get away with the deed. The type of information Mike unearthed on Alexis would determine Jackson’s plan.

“Mr. Witt,” his young secretary’s lilting voice drifted through the intercom on his desk, “Mike Mansel is here to see you.”

Anticipation swelled within Jackson, chasing away the more frustrating emotions that had been his constant companions for the past week. “Thank you, Rachel. Send him back to my office and hold my calls until he leaves.”

“Yes, sir.”

The line disconnected, and less than a minute later Mike, dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt, sauntered into Jackson’s office in his normal, easygoing manner. Despite his carefree attitude, Mike was a highly respected P.I. Jackson had not only trusted him implicitly as a friend since their college days, but regarded him as a discreet businessman as well.

Mike set his scuffed leather briefcase on a clear spot on the corner of the solid oak desk, and Jackson reached across the distance to shake his friend’s hand in greeting before sitting down in his chair.

“Thanks for making this case a priority,” he said, knowing how abrupt his request for Mike’s services had been.

The other man shrugged off his gratitude. “You can express your appreciation by buying me a cold beer sometime. Seems I owe you for all the business you’ve sent my way.”

Mike was one of the few people who didn’t expect anything from him but friendship, so it was extremely easy to promote him and his P.I. agency. “You don’t owe me anything, Mike, and your fee will be in the mail by the end of the day. Now, what’ve you got for me on Alexis Baylor?”

“Not much other than a normal, predictable, everyday schedule and some background facts that don’t add up to anything illegal or disreputable, personally or professionally.” Mike sprawled his long, lean body into one of the beige leather chairs in front of the desk. “Sorry to disappoint you, Jackson. The woman is so damn clean she squeaks.”

Jackson knew better than to believe Alexis was completely guileless and led an exemplary life free of any infractions or misdeeds. Not after he’d discovered she’d used one of her own as a mole to unearth secret information from his company.

A wry smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “Maybe that’s because she depends on someone else to do her dirty work.”

“That may be,” Mike conceded, “but I spent five solid days of surveillance and gathering information on her, trying to find something to lend credence to your claim that this woman is ruthless, and I’m telling you, there’s nothing remotely unscrupulous about her that I could discover.”

“Consider her a good actress, because I have Gametek’s press release that states otherwise. She stole my technology through Fred Hobson, and I want to even the score.” He tapped his pen on his blotter impatiently and rerouted them back to the business at hand before his friend could argue further. “Tell me what you did find on her.”

Mike stared at him for a long moment, then opened his briefcase, pulled out a file folder and withdrew a sheaf of papers stapled neatly together. “It’s all in my report, but I’ll give you a brief rundown.”

He tossed the typed summary in front of Jackson to read while he went on to recite the facts by memory. “Alexis Baylor’s parents died when she was ten, and her uncle, being the only family she had, raised her. Martin Baylor never married and devoted his time to his company, Gametek, which never took off while he was alive. From all accounts, Alexis was a quiet, shy girl and followed in her uncle’s line of work. She attended San Diego State University, majored in Computer Science, and graduated at the top of her class. She went straight to work for her uncle designing basic computer games. When he died three years ago, she inherited the company.”

Jackson dragged a hand over his clean shaven jaw. “How convenient,” he drawled.

Mike shrugged off his comment. “Alexis was Martin’s only family, too, so there really was no one else to take over the business. She didn’t inherit much in the way of wealth, considering the company was near bankruptcy. From what I learned from other sources she’s been working on Zantoid for the past four years, but hadn’t been able to market the software because it was lacking a specific proprietary code to make the game run smoother, faster, and make the graphics more vibrant and real.”

“My proprietary code,” Jackson interjected through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” Mike admitted with a pained half-smile. “There’s no denying that the code is yours, or that she’s reaping the benefits of your technology. She’s received hundreds of thousands of orders for the software since announcing its release.”

Jackson’s gut twisted with aggravation. Exhaling a taut breath, he waved a hand in the air between them, as if the gesture alone could dismiss that disturbing news just as easily. “Go on with your report,” he said, desperately needing to grasp onto something concrete about the woman he could use to his advantage. “What do you know about Alexis’s personal life?”

Reclining in his chair in a deceptively lazy stretch, Mike folded his hands over his stomach and rested one sneakered foot over the opposite knee. “She actually goes by the name of Alex. She just turned twenty-eight and has never been married. She dates occasionally, but hasn’t had a steady boyfriend in the past five years. Though Dennis Merrick, the man she promoted to vice president of the company after her uncle’s death, seems very fond of her.”

The woman hadn’t had a steady boyfriend in the past five years? Jackson frowned, wondering why, and latched onto the most plausible explanation. “Is there something going on between her and her VP?”

Mike shook his head. “No. From what I could find out, he’s been with the company for over ten years and was her uncle’s right-hand man so it was a logical promotion to VP. She seems to depend on him for support and decision making and while he appears to be a good friend she spends occasional time with outside of the office, the interest is very one-sided.”

Nothing to exploit there, Jackson thought in growing dissatisfaction.

“She’s very plain and unassuming,” Mike continued with his findings. “She spends her days at the office, goes out to a nearby deli for lunch, usually alone and with a book. She reads romantic suspense, in case you’re wondering,” he added with a grin. “She orders the same thing every day, a chicken salad sandwich, a side compote of fresh fruit and an iced tea with two lemons. She works at the office until nine or ten at night, and when she leaves for the evening she heads straight home to her two-bedroom condo in San Diego. Always alone.”

Jackson winced at the woman’s dull and boring social life. Mike’s profile of Alexis didn’t even come close to matching the vixen-like vision he’d conjured in his mind. “Are we talking about the same woman here?”

Mike laughed, but his humor quickly faded away. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jackson. If the woman has an unscrupulous side, immoral habits or condemning fetishes, she hides them well. Her two biggest indulgences in the week that I had her under surveillance were a box of Amaretto truffles, and a few silky, lacy underthings she bought for herself at a lingerie boutique. Other than that, the woman is as straight as an arrow.”

Jackson snorted at that, remembering how he’d totally and completely misjudged his fiancée, too. How easily she’d deceived him with outward appearances and practiced affection. On the surface she’d presented the facade of a devoted and loving woman who catered to his every need and made him believe they were matched physically as well as intellectually. The kind of lifetime mate he could trust and build a life with. And then he’d discovered the deeper, scheming motivations she’d had for wanting to marry him. It had been a very nasty, public breakup four years ago, one that had made him keep women at arm’s length ever since.

Looking back on the relationship, Jackson now realized he’d played right into Lindsay’s ploy. He’d wanted to believe she’d share in the kind of emotional intimacy and trust that had always been missing from his life, things he’d secretly desired for years but had come to accept he’d never have. His own mother had never provided emotional nurturing and unconditional love, then had completely abandoned him when he’d been a teenager. She’d traipsed back into his life years later when he’d become a successful businessman, pretending love and adoration and begging forgiveness. The little boy in him wanted so badly to believe that she’d changed that he’d allowed her back into his life, until it became painfully apparent that she, too, was only interested in his money. He was merely another person in a long line of fools she’d used for her own purposes.

He wasn’t one to hold onto grudges, yet every time he tried to let go of the past and let down his guard enough to trust someone and build a relationship, he was blindsided by ulterior motives and betrayal. It was safer, easier and less painful not to allow another woman that close.

Jackson rubbed his thumb along his chin, trying to ignore the churning in his belly those memories evoked. “What does Alexis look like?” he asked, tossing aside the thoughts of those two self-centered women for the current one wreaking havoc with his life.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask that question.” A slow grin eased up the corners of Mike’s mouth. “She’s certainly nothing spectacular or anything like the sophisticated beauties you’re used to dealing with. Definitely not the kind of woman who’d turn your head twice if you passed her on the street. Her features are pretty, but plain, and while she wears loose, unfitted clothing it’s fairly obvious that she has real womanly curves beneath all that camouflage.”

Leaning forward, Mike rifled through the contents of his briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope. From that, he withdrew an 8x10 glossy photograph and held the snapshot across the desk for Jackson to take. “I used my zoom lens to get a close-up of her for you. There are other shots in the envelope you can look through later.”

Jackson examined the candid picture through critical eyes. The photograph had been taken as she was leaving her office building midday, accompanied by a thirty-something, brown-haired man with wire-rimmed glasses. First, Jackson focused on Alexis. As Mike had divulged, her looks and appearance were plain and unassuming and nothing remotely close to what Jackson had imagined. Minimal makeup enhanced her features and her glossy black hair was pulled back into one of those French braids. She wore an untucked, loose navy blue blouse that hinted at generous breasts but didn’t fully display them, and a flowing patterned skirt that swirled around her legs and ankles.

Despite the unflattering clothing, he couldn’t stop himself from envisioning the satiny, lacy under-things she might be wearing beneath the practical, unflattering outfit. He imagined warm, soft skin against cool silk, and a flush of unexpected heat infused him. Annoyed with his response, he immediately shook those unbidden thoughts right out of his head.

Sophisticated and extraordinarily beautiful, she wasn’t. But he didn’t doubt Alexis’s intelligence. She was laughing at something the other man must have said, and her eyes, a pale but sparkling shade of blue, seemed to say “I’m at the top of the world“.

Of course she was sitting pretty…she was in the position to make millions from all his hard work.

“Who is the guy with her?” Jackson asked curiously.

“That’s Dennis Merrick.”

Jackson looked once more. No, they didn’t seem like lovers in the picture. Alexis appeared more amused by the man than enamored. But there was no denying the wistfulness in the other man’s expression as he gazed at her.