Risky Business. Jane Sullivan
I should at least be entitled to four days.”
“I’ve been using your picture! Not you!”
“My identity.”
“Not exactly. You’re not a doctor.”
“So you embellished. Was that my fault?”
“You can’t come with me, Jack. You can’t—”
“Really? Walter says I can.”
“He thinks you’re my husband!”
“Isn’t that what you want him to think?”
“Yes! As long as it’s your picture he’s thinking it about, not you!”
He grinned. “You’re right. You do sound a little insane.”
This was a nightmare. An honest-to-goodness nightmare come to life.
“I’m going to tell them you had a medical emergency,” she said. “I’ll tell them you had to fly out suddenly—”
“Sorry, Rachel. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He walked over and stood in front of her, his smile dimming. “Why did you leave?”
“What?”
“In San Antonio. I woke up and found you gone.”
She turned away. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
He pulled her back around and took her by the shoulders, staring down at her with a gaze so hot it made her breath catch in her throat.
“One night wasn’t nearly enough. I don’t know why you left, but now that I’ve found you again, I don’t intend to let you go.”
“There’s nothing between us, Jack. That night meant nothing.”
“That night was absolutely explosive and you know it. Tell me you’ve had better sex somewhere else. Go ahead. Tell me.”
She swallowed hard. “I—I’ve had b-better sex somewhere…else.”
Well, those were the most unconvincing six words she’d ever spoken, and the tiny smile that came to his lips told her he knew it. Damn it.
“There are more important things in life than sex,” she said.
“It sure seemed to be at the top of your list that night in San Antonio.”
“I—I was drunk.”
“After one margarita?”
“I can’t hold alcohol.”
“You seemed plenty sober to me. I mean, if you’d been drunk, could you possibly have climbed up on that bathroom counter and—”
“Stop! Don’t say it!”
She shuddered out of his grip. God, she was going to die of embarrassment. Right here, right now.
His voice softened. “Why are you denying this? And why did you disappear?”
“Because that wasn’t me! The woman I was that night—she doesn’t really exist!”
“No, Rachel. Dr. Jack Kellerman, medical humanitarian, doesn’t exist. But the woman I knew in San Antonio—the woman I touched, the woman I kissed, the woman with more erogenous zones than I could count—she was very real.”
Rachel felt her cheeks flush red yet again. “Listen to me, Jack. Just because I took a side road one night doesn’t mean that’s the path I always travel. Or that it’s one I ever intend to go down again.”
“I see.” He nodded thoughtfully. “So you’re telling me that you don’t want any more of the best sex you ever had. For four days. At a ski resort. With a fireplace, a beautiful view…Yeah, I see your point. That would be a fate worse than death.”
“Stop it! Will you just stop it? I don’t want you coming with me!”
“Sorry, Rachel. You’ve made your bed, and now you’re going to lie in it.” He grinned. “But don’t worry. I’ll keep you company.”
Rachel remembered how spontaneous he’d been. How he’d teased and laughed and behaved in ways she’d found totally irresistible. It had all been very tantalizing when it happened between the sheets, but if he turned on those same characteristics full force around her coworkers and her boss, he could send her career up in flames. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Nothing. He knew her secret, so he held all the cards.
“What time do you get off work?” Jack asked her.
“I need to stay until six o’clock tonight.”
“Good. I’ll be back then.”
“You’ll be back? Why?”
“So we can go home together. Where is it we live again?”
She held up her palm. “No. No way. You’re not staying with me tonight.”
“This was a day trip to Denver for me,” he told her. “I haven’t got hotel reservations.”
“So make some.”
“But we’re supposed to be married. What would people think if they knew I was sleeping in a hotel?”
“No one will ever know.”
“Has it occurred to you that once we get to that resort, we’ll be sharing a room?” He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe even a bed?”
Rachel blinked with sudden realization. She hadn’t thought of that. And now that she did…
She’d had her choice of a king-size bed in her room, or two double beds. Of course, she’d reserved the king—she certainly didn’t need two beds. And how could she change it now? What woman wouldn’t opt for a king-size bed over two doubles when she was sharing a room with her husband?
“Seems to me that in light of that upcoming arrangement,” Jack went on, “my staying at your place isn’t a big deal. Then we can go to the resort together tomorrow.” He checked his watch. “Actually, I do have an appointment this afternoon, but I’ll be back here by six o’clock.” He opened her office door, then gave her a knowing smile. “Happy birthday, Rachel.”
He left her office and closed the door behind him. Rachel stared after him in total disbelief, then sank into her chair, put her elbows on her desk and dropped her head to her hands. Oh, Lord, what was she going to do now? For the next four days, she was stuck trying to control a powder keg by the name of Jack Kellerman, a powder keg that could explode at any moment.
She took a deep, calming breath. Okay. She had to focus here. Goal number one: Keep Jack’s identity a secret. Goal number two: Keep Jack’s body out of her bed. Goal number three: Keep Jack’s naked body out of her mind.
If she could pull off all three of those things, she just might escape from this outrageous situation with her career and her self-respect intact. If not…
Oh, boy.
She closed her eyes and promised God that if He’d just get her out of this one little pickle, she’d never tell a lie again.
4
AFTER LEAVING RACHEL’S office, Jack headed back to the Fairfax Hotel, where he met with the manager and got a tour of the place. Everything was as he’d expected it to be, and more. He called Tom, gave him some specifics, and told him to start working up a bid. Then he dropped the news that he wouldn’t be back to the work site for a couple of days. Tom had gone a little nuts over that, but this trip wasn’t negotiable. Business would keep.
Rachel wouldn’t.
He certainly hadn’t planned for things to go the way they had today, and he could hardly believe his luck. A four-day retreat? Sharing