Intimate (5 page)

Looks he either ignored or just didn't see. For some reason, she had a feeling it was the latter. She loved the way he occasionally glanced in her direction and smiled.

Once he'd registered, they turned everything over to the bellboy before following him to the elevator and up to their room on the second floor.

Kaz stood there staring at the gorgeous room with her mouth hanging open while Jake tipped the bellboy. When he closed the door, she turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “This is nice.”

Nice didn't even come close.

Jake merely smiled.

That smile was deadly. She shivered, imagining the potential in this room.

He set his bags on the floor beside the bed closest to the door. “Any preference which bed you want?”

She wished she had the nerve to say, “Whichever one you're in,” but there was no way she'd get that out without cracking up.

Her arousal had been growing with each mile they traveled, until now she wanted him with an almost visceral need. Wanted to run her hands over those broad shoulders, dig her fingers into his dark, silky hair. She wished she had the courage to say what she was thinking and then casually saunter across the room and pop the button on his jeans, slip her fingers into the waistband, and tug that black denim down to his ankles. Yeah. That would work. Or not.

As relaxed and easygoing as he'd been on the drive up, that would be crossing a line he might not like at all.

This was still a job. One she needed badly, but a girl could dream, right?

Damn, she was so aware of him. So confused. Kaz shivered, physically shaking off the need to touch him. “This one,” she said, and carted her bags across the room to take the bed near the door to the balcony.

Jake put his bags on the other bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Kaz had showered before Jake picked her up, so she took the time while he was out of the main part of the room to change into a pair of skinny jeans, platform sandals, a tight crop top camisole, and a shaggy sweater that covered her belly—and her tat.

She knew she'd have to show it to him eventually, but not yet. That was something she was going to have to work up to, because Jake already wasn't just anybody. It was going to be really personal, showing it to him.

She hadn't had it all that long and had never had to expose it for a modeling gig. It wasn't something she comfortably flashed around, at least not when someone just wanted to see it. This morning she hadn't planned to show it off, but she certainly hadn't expected that jerk to poke his head into her dressing room without knocking to “see if she was ready.” Yeah, right. She'd complained to the client—maybe that's why he'd made such an issue about her tattoo, because he knew she had a valid complaint against the employee who was also his son.

She hadn't expected to lose her job because of it.

On the other hand, it had led to her meeting Jake. She glanced toward the bathroom door, imagined him in there, naked under the spray in that shower.

She had a feeling the reality would be even better.

Then she looked at the bed next to hers and shivered. God, she was lame, standing here imagining how he was going to act when he saw her tattoo, practically plotting the poor guy's seduction. He'd only see the ink and the art of it. He wouldn't know what it meant to her. Not really. She'd shown it to very few men. Even Jerry hadn't seen it, since they'd broken up right before Jilly died, before Kaz had the tat done.

Kaz stared at the bed where Jake had left his gear. He'd told her they had to be on-site by six in order to catch first light, but there were a lot of hours between now and dawn. A lot of hours and two queen-sized beds.

The room was beautiful, very upscale with all the right touches, but all she saw were the beds. Jake, of course, had been a perfect gentleman. She was the one with her mind in the gutter.

The bathroom door opened with a soft cloud of steam. “Hey, Kaz? Did I leave my overnight kit on the bed?”

She glanced at the bag in question. “You did. Want it?”

“Yeah. I need my razor and shaving cream.”

She grabbed the bag, took a calming breath, and sauntered into the open bathroom. Jake stood in front of the mirror with a thick, white towel wrapped around his hips. Playing it as nonchalant as she was able, Kaz set the overnight kit on the stone counter next to the sink and tried not to drool.

He'd looked good in worn jeans and a T-shirt, but wearing nothing but a towel, Jacob Lowell was absolutely magnificent. The plush Egyptian cotton stretched tightly across an absolutely perfect butt, covering his legs almost to his knees. His calves were beautifully shaped and muscular, dusted in dark hair, and he had long, narrow feet. Sexy as hell, but even sexier was the fact that, barefoot, he was still taller than Kaz while she stood tall in platform wedge sandals.

With his upper body naked she finally got a look at that impressive chest, confirming her guess that yes, while he was lean and rangy, he was strongly built with what she'd always thought of as a swimmer's body—broad shoulders, a smoothly muscled chest, and a flat belly. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the man. That and the rippled definition across his midsection were proof of either quality time in the gym or a damned healthy lifestyle—or both. He did have an intriguing trail of dark hair that circled his navel and disappeared beneath the towel.

Her fingers itched to follow it, even though she knew exactly where it led. Or maybe that should be
because
she knew exactly where it led.

“Thanks. I'll just be a minute.”

Blinking herself back to the present, Kaz glanced up. The dark shadow covering his cheeks and jaw only added to the entire package, but the twinkle in his dark eyes let her know he'd caught her looking. She swallowed her need and prayed she wouldn't blush. “Don't shave on my account. I like the look. Sort of edgy and dark.”

He tilted his head and studied her for a brief moment. “That's what I liked about you the first time I saw you.” He set the razor back on the counter. “Edgy and dark, exactly the look I wanted.”

“I'm glad you got it.”

The moment the words were out, she felt the hot blush spreading over her chest and face, but she didn't look away.

He stared at her a moment and then lowered his gaze. “Will you show me the butterfly?”

She blinked. And then she shivered, almost as if she felt that searing gaze roving across her multihued tattoo. That wasn't what she'd expected to hear. Not yet, anyway. She had to swallow before she could answer him, all too aware how her voice sounded, sort of raspy. Needy. “How about later, after dinner? I'm starved.” She glanced his way. Maybe he'd just think she was hungry, not terrified of sharing such a personal part of herself.

His smile slowly stretched across his face. “Works for me.”

Oh, yeah. What was going on? She'd never felt an attraction like this. Of course, she'd never been in a gorgeous man's hotel room, fully dressed while he wore nothing but a towel, either.

He reached around her, his warm, muscular arm rubbing over hers as he grabbed the overnight kit. She sucked in a breath at a simple touch that left her shivering, needy.

“Toothbrush,” he said.

There was no fighting her blush.

His smile just got wider. “If you're okay with the furry face, I'll just brush my teeth, get some clothes on, and we can go find food.”

*   *   *

He'd expected her to want something expensive, something haute cuisine—she was a gorgeous fashion model after all, and this town was known for its quality restaurants—but she said she'd spotted a little Mexican dive on the way into town that looked interesting, and that's where she led him. They had to walk a few blocks from the trendier downtown area. He'd really wanted to grab her hand and hold on to her, but he wasn't sure how she'd take it. Then, when they got to the restaurant, she hadn't even paused to read the menu tacked beside the door—she was the one who grabbed his hand and dragged him inside.

An hour later, Jake was wiping his lips with his napkin, fully aware he couldn't eat another bite. “That was absolutely amazing. You definitely know how to pick 'em.”

They could have been in Mexico, rather than an upscale wine-country town. The place was full, with conversations in Spanish and English flowing as easily as the beer. He eyed the few drops of salsa still left in the bowl.

“If you eat the last of that, I will not be responsible for you being up half the night belching.” She laughed, reached across the table for the last chip, scooped up the salsa, and ate it herself. “See? I'm saving you from a night of misery. I hope you appreciate it.”

“I thought models worried about their weight.” Grumbling, he stared at the now empty bowl.

“Not usually. Fast metabolism.”

She licked her lips and he followed the sweep of her tongue with his gaze. Then she neatly dabbed her mouth with the napkin.

He blinked to break the connection. “Right. You'll watch me starve while stealing the last of the chips and salsa, and you want me to feel grateful?”

“You mean you're not?”

“Not in the least.”

The waitress brought the tab to their table and Jake handed her his credit card.

Kaz smiled at him. “I guess I'll just have to owe you.”

“That you do.” He couldn't help but smile back. She was nothing like the other models he'd worked with over the years, and he wasn't thinking only of the way she looked. They'd talked about everything from politics—which they'd mostly agreed on—to sports. Kaz was a sports fan, and while she liked baseball and approved of his Giants T-shirt, she absolutely loved basketball. Neither of them had traveled as much as they wanted, and they both liked Mexican food and good beer. She read mysteries and romances, he liked biographies, but they both read the
San Francisco Chronicle
daily from cover to cover. And she was so damned quick, with a sense of humor that meshed with his own rather warped view of life. In fact, they'd spent the entire meal laughing and smiling, even as they'd argued about every topic imaginable.

Unique really did describe Kaz.

He signed the bill and left a twenty on the table, stood at the same time as Kaz, and they walked to the door. She paused just outside the restaurant.

It had grown dark while they ate, but the overhead lights from the parking lot cast a golden shimmer across her dark hair. She smiled at him.

Good God, that mouth. It took everything he had not to lean close and kiss her.

“You tip heavy,” she said. Her brows crinkled a bit as she frowned. “Our whole meal barely cost twenty bucks. Plus, you could've put the tip on your card, but you left a twenty on the table. How come?”

He shrugged. This wasn't the conversation he'd imagined, but then his imagination had been running a bit wild tonight. “Just making sure the money goes to the ones who earned it.”

She nodded. Then she laughed outright. “Sorry. It's that damned business degree I'm still paying for. I pay attention to the pennies.” Her smile slipped and she glanced away.

He wondered what she was thinking as he tugged her arm through his, and it bothered him, in a way, how much he wanted to understand her. To get to know her. Hell, he just wanted to be with her. She wasn't like anyone he'd ever dated before. Part of what made her unique was her height. He wasn't used to looking eye-to-eye with a woman. It felt as if that level gaze of hers demanded honesty.

He was still thinking about that when they crossed the street to check out some of the different storefronts as they headed back to the hotel. There was a section of antique shops with interesting window displays, so they took their time, pausing to look, to tease and joke around. The night was cool, and Jake was so damned aware of her. The way she walked, the soft swing of her short hair when she turned to speak, the sensual curve of her lips. His primary thought should be how to transfer her look, her style and mood to photos, not hoping she noticed him as a man, that she wouldn't consider a kiss out of line.

Or even more. Damn, it had been a long time since he'd been with anyone. Not that women weren't interested, but rebuilding a life took time and energy. There was no time to meet women, especially anyone who fascinated him the way this one did. Most of the single women he met were models. Beautiful packages, nothing inside. Not like Kaz.

She filled the space around them with energy—so much energy that he felt it sizzle across his skin.

They'd almost reached their hotel when she paused in front of a store that carried designer clothing. Jake stood beside her, much too aware of the way men noticed her when they walked by. All of them were checking her out—the same way he'd been watching her. He slipped his arm around her waist, silently laughing at himself and his caveman reaction.

“Look at all the color.” She turned her head and smiled up at him, but she didn't pull away from his hand resting lightly on her hip, so he left it there. “I love store windows with lots of color.” Laughing, she shook her head and then sighed. “Yet you look in my closet, and almost everything is black. Why is that?”

“Your closet. You tell me.” His gaze rested on a long silk scarf dyed in colors across the spectrum. Slipping from black to darkest purple, through shades of teal blue and turquoise, it melted perfectly into a soft almost translucent shade of sky blue.

Jake pictured Kaz wrapped in the shimmering silk, pictured dark nipples sparkling with diamonds peeking through the folds, and the image filled his mind until he had no choice but to grab her hand and drag her inside the store. The clerk was at the register, sorting the day's tags and receipts.

“Hello.” Raising her head, she smiled at them. “I was just getting ready to close. Did you need something in particular?”

“I do.” Jake reached into the window display and grabbed the scarf. “This, please.” He turned to Kaz, held the scarf against her cheek. He loved the way her eyes lit up. “For the shoot tomorrow,” he said to her. “The color is perfect.”