Erotic Invitation. Carly Phillips
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Though her daily suits did little to reveal womanly curves, Jack saw plenty now. She had full breasts, fuller than he’d imagined and creamy white skin peeked through the deep vee of her top.
“You’re wondering which is the real Mallory?” Her sultry laugh lit the night air. “That’s for you to find out.”
She teased him with what-if’s and myriad other sensual possibilities.
“Are you ready to eat?” she asked.
The question led to thoughts of decadent delights, feasting on her glistening lips and tasting her hidden feminine secrets. But he doubted that was what she had in mind.
At least not yet. A wicked voice in his head taunted him, just as her nearness teased him. He wanted to close the distance, to sweep his hand over the expanse of skin on her neck and shoulders, to bring her close enough for him to devour with his mouth.
“I’m hungry,” he replied. And if she looked down, she’d see exactly how ravenous he was. He tried to swallow but his throat had grown dry. “But how about a drink first.”
She rose from the couch with fluid grace and walked over to the minibar. “Vodka on the rocks, yes?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You remember?”
Mallory nodded. “I pay attention.” To everything about you, she thought.
She drank in his charcoal-gray eyes, lit by anticipation and awareness. She took notice of his jet-black hair, combed and sexy despite—or was it because of its perfection? Her gaze dipped lower. The intriguing bit of chest hair visible from his now open collar was seared into her memory.
Jack Latham was a potent masculine package. And that was the problem. Her mental obsession with him and what he thought of her had brought her to a dangerous precipice. He’d challenged her femininity and she’d responded, putting her career and her future on the line. She could not believe she’d taken her humiliation over his insulting comment this far. But now that she had, Mallory had no choice but to follow through with her plan to show Jack the woman behind the facade.
“I pay attention, too. Your reputation for thoroughness and your expertise is unrivaled among the firm’s associates.”
She warmed at his compliment, knowing she’d transformed herself into the frigid Mallory for that very purpose. “Thank you.”
After pouring his vodka and her wine for much needed courage, she returned to the sofa. With any luck she could remain in control of herself and her reactions at the same time she tested his.
She handed him his glass and their hands touched. Brief and accidental, yet a tremor of awareness ricocheted throughout her body. So much for control, Mallory thought. Since he was here in response to her invitation and he didn’t seem inclined to bolt now that he realized she was the invitee, she willed herself to remain calm, forget business and concentrate on Jack.
By the time the evening was over, Jack would have no doubts regarding Mallory’s womanly attributes and feminine wiles. Point made, things between them then could return to normal. As if anything could ever be normal again now that she’d come this close to her fantasy.
She seated herself beside him and silence followed. “So tell me about the Terminator,” she said, before he could take charge of the conversation.
“It’s a great movie but the first was better than the sequel,” he said quickly.
Too quickly and his expression grew shuttered as it had earlier, when he’d discussed the two sides of human nature.
She sensed his discomfort and wondered at the cause of his withdrawal. She lifted her drink to her lips and took a long sip.
The fruity liquid slid down her throat, wetting her mouth so she could speak. “I agree. Sequels are rarely as good as the original. In Terminator Two, there were too many muscles on Linda Hamilton. Yet she made the men drool.” Mallory shrugged. “I always thought men liked their women on the softer side.”
Surprise at her response registered on his face. Obviously he thought she’d continue to push him for answers about what made him the office terminator. Her cousin Julia would have taken a more overt approach. Mallory preferred subtlety. She was coming on strong enough as it was.
And this way, he wouldn’t know he was easy to read. His poorly timed movie joke had given her a more personal glimpse into his feelings about being the marriage terminator than if he’d answered with dry facts. There was time enough for those.
She ran her tongue over the rim of the glass, savoring every droplet of wine. She was gratified when his gaze followed the movement and his eyes dilated with desire.
His stare locked with hers and though he’d obviously been caught again, he didn’t back off or look away. He was as direct as she’d been in bringing him here and she appreciated his forthrightness.
“So what’s your take? How do you like your women, Jack? Soft and feminine or harder with an edge of steel?”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth into a sexy grin. “I like them to possess a bit of both. Strong and capable on the outside, yet soft and pliant, warm and giving within.” He reached forward and grasped her glass, easing it out of her fingers and placing it on the table beside the couch.
“Sort of like you,” he murmured. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
His touch was warm and sexy, like the timbre of his voice and she reacted. Her nipples tightened beneath the silk and the bare wisp of a bra she wore. Another gentle caress like that last one and she’d lose what little semblance of control she possessed.
He placed his glass beside her own. “Unless of course, this is an act.”
Aah. He wanted to test her limits and see if she turned back into uptight, frigid Mallory. He wanted to see who would run first. Poor Jack. He had no idea she was prepared to see this through and deal with the consequences later.
“Maybe it is an act. Maybe it isn’t. The point is you still aren’t sure, are you?”
“Not yet.” He leaned forward until his lips were mere inches from hers. “But the night’s still young and I plan to find out.”
His mouth hovered close to hers. Hot with a hint of Absolut vodka, his breath teased her with seductive promises she wasn’t ready to make or keep. Yet.
“Not so fast.” She playfully pushed back on his shoulders before he could possess her mouth in the kiss she so desperately wanted despite the need to back off. If there was any kissing to be done tonight, she’d be the one to initiate. Otherwise she had no prayer of proving her point. And that’s what tonight was all about, she reminded herself. Proving a point not gaining pleasure, though she sensed she’d experience that, too.
But she couldn’t risk serious involvement with Jack Latham and anything beyond this playful evening would constitute involvement. Something neither her emotions nor her career could afford.
She’d spent too many years building toward a partnership. Too many lonely, unfulfilled years maybe, but if she was going to receive the ultimate payoff in the end, she couldn’t succumb to emotional need or desire with the one man she’d always wanted. Not now. She hoped Jack took her teasing in the right light or she’d ruin everything anyway.
Forcing herself to remember her priorities, which wasn’t easy when kissing Jack was within easy reach, she rose from her seat. “You said you were hungry.” She walked over to the table where room service had left a full meal including hors d’oeuvres.
“Starved.” His deep chuckle reverberated behind her.
He wouldn’t be amused by the time she was through.
“I thought you were staying in the main hotel.”
She appreciated the switch to mundane conversation. “Keeping tabs on me?”
“If I wasn’t