Jessica E. Subject BUNDLE (Intergalactic Heat) (2 page)

He slammed his fist against the wall before sending a message back.
What are you telling me?

The beautiful woman in your suite is waiting to spend the evening in your company.

He groaned, fighting the urge to throw his phone on the ground and stomp on it. Yes, he’d tried to set his brother up on a date, but he would never consider that kind of service for himself. And this was supposed to be his time to himself. Alone.
No, I never applied to your dating service. I’m not even looking for a relationship right now.

If only you believed your own words. She is exactly what you are looking for.

Most of the women he encountered, including the mob outside, believed they were exactly what he was looking for because they’d followed the tabloids from his early career or read his profile on the
Searching For Earth
fan site. But that profile matched his character, not him anymore. If the woman in his room had been on SFE, his character would definitely spend the night with her. But
he
needed a different type of woman.

I believe your brother knows you better than those fan sites. Come now. It’s only one night.

How did she get into his head? I know how you work. You don’t set just anyone up. That’s why I chose you to set up Trevor.

Then you know I didn’t take the task of finding your date lightly. Now, are you up for an evening of fun, or shall I inform the lovely woman you’re not interested?

If only he was more like his character, like his former self.
I’ll return to my room, but I think you’ve made a mistake.

I never make mistakes. Have a wonderful evening.

Wait, what’s her name?
But his text went unanswered.

Trevor was going to pay the next time he saw him.

Tamara slid off the red lace and tossed it back in the bag. Why did she think she could hide under the wig? Even the guy who’d mistakenly entered her suite hadn’t shown her any sign she was desirable. He’d seen through her disguise and couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

He’d been drop-dead gorgeous, too. With tanned, perfect skin, and a gym-toned body, he could be a part of her fantasies any day. But he hadn’t wanted her. No man would, ever again. They saw her as nothing but a freak.

Her date wasn’t coming; she’d waited over an hour already. He’d probably looked her up on Facebook and seen a picture of her with her bald head, then changed his mind.

Slipping her fingers underneath the edge of her wig, she broke the seal and tossed the display of hair across the room. Her enraged scream echoed off the walls. Tears fell. She’d be alone forever because of the incurable autoimmune disease invading her body.

Flopping onto the bed, she curled up into a ball, unable to face going home. But she couldn’t stay there by herself either.

“Hello?”

She sat up, her heart pounding.
Shit!
Someone else had come into the suite and there she sat, naked. No hair, no clothes, nothing.

Footsteps padded toward the room. She had to get dressed. Her clothes sat on the floor by the bed, but she had no idea where her wig had landed. The footsteps grew closer. She dove over the bed, hoping to find the wig on the other side, taking her little black dress with her.
Shit! Where’s my hair? Why can’t I just be normal?

“Hello, is anyone here?”

She had enough time to throw on the dress
sans
bra and thong before he was in the room with her.

The same man from before stared at her from the doorway. What was his name? Josh?

And she stood there, exposed. With a bald head, and makeup surely running down her face from all the crying.

With his mouth hanging open, his eyes grew wide, the collection of multi-colored roses held in his hand taking a nosedive for the floor.

Oh, God!
She’d held onto so much hope for this date, and nothing had gone right. She still didn’t know who this guy was. Yet, he’d already rejected her with his expression.
This is the last date I’m going on, unless I’m lucky enough for my hair to grow back.

His gaze never left her, making her even more humiliated. “You’re….”

“What? Ugly? Bald?”

He shook his head. “No, I was going to say my date. I’ve been so busy lately and Madame Evangeline had to send me a reminder.”

She paused at the Frenchwoman’s name. Could this hunk of a man really be her date? Didn’t matter. He wouldn’t want her now. “Well, surprise! I’m damaged goods, so you might as well leave and ask her for a refund.”

As she slumped to the floor, more tears streamed down her face.
Why is life so unfair?
She’d worked hard all of her life, never taking shortcuts or the easy way out. Not an outcast or popular, she’d been friends with everyone in school and college. And healthy. She’d taken extra care to eat properly in order to avoid being diagnosed with diabetes, like her parents.

Since that fateful day when she’d discovered her two, oval-shaped bald patches, she’d been dumped by her fiancé and lost all of her hair, along with any chance to find love and have a family vanishing. Kids were out of the question. Sure, their chances of inheriting alopecia were unlikely, but on the chance they did, they’d hate her for passing her faulty genetics on to them. She couldn’t live with that. She’d be alone. Forever.

He loomed over her.

“What do you want?” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand to see the disgust he surely felt from being set up with her.

“I found your wig.” He sat beside her on the floor, placing the tangle of hair on her lap.

“Thanks. You can leave. I just want to be alone.” She might as well get started now.

“I thought we had a date.”

She heard no revulsion in his voice and glanced over at him. “You still want to have a one-night stand with me after seeing me like this?”
Is this guy blind?

“Sure. It’s not very often I find someone who I can relate to. What’s your name? Madame Eve never told me.”

She tensed. “Tamara. But you know nothing about me or what I’m going through.” She stood up. If he wasn’t going to leave, she would.

As she walked past, he grabbed her arm. “I
can
relate, and I’ll show you if you just give me a chance.”

Too weak to fight from all of her crying, she didn’t resist. “Fine, show me.”

He released her then unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Turning around, he said, “Look at my back. See all of the scarring there? Well, it extends up past my hairline. I went with hair restoration surgery instead of a wig, but I still know what the sting of rejection feels like.”

Her eyes widened.
Insert foot in mouth.
“I’m sorry.” She’d acted like a bitch, and the last thing he needed was more rejection, more people feeling sorry for him. If anything, they both needed someone who could simply understand. “It’s just that so many people sympathize with how I feel, but they truly have no idea what it’s like to have alopecia, to have hair one day and none the next.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I know.”

Trailing a finger over the ridges and valleys of his scarred skin, she let go of all of the animosity she’d built up. “I guess you would. How did it happen?”

“It was a pyrotechnics accident.” He sat on the bed and patted the sheets.

She joined him, curious to know more about her mysterious date.

“I used to be a model before I was an actor. During a private shoot, a flare ignited prematurely. It came at me from the side and burnt my back.” He cringed as if he could still feel the pain of the experience. “I settled out of court to keep it from the media, but I had to give up modeling. With the settlement, I went for the hair transplant then went into acting instead.”

“You’re an actor?” That would explain his good looks, his chiseled body. How had she landed a date with a man like him? Sure, he had scars, but still….

“Yes, but let’s not talk about that. Why don’t you go to the bathroom and wash up so we can begin our date?”

Wiping her eyes, she noticed streaks of mascara on her hands. “I must look pretty awful.”

He brushed his hand across her arm. “No, you look beautiful, but you’re hiding your beauty under all of that makeup.” He wrapped his arm around her back, drawing her into him. The captivating scent of sandalwood and pure masculinity filled her. “Tamara, I’m sorry for being late tonight. Will you accept my apology?”

She gazed into his brown eyes, ready to melt. “Yes.”

He kissed her forehead before letting her go, making her knees quiver. “Perfect. Now, get going so we can get to know each other better.”

She rushed to the washroom, using the opportunity to figure out the situation. Had they been set up together because they were both damaged? Yes, he had scars, but would he really want to spend the night with a bald woman? He could still get any girl he wanted.

She cringed as she took in her reflection in the mirror.
Beautiful? Yeah, right!
Mascara lines decorated her face from her red-rimmed eyes, down to her chin. Snot pooled underneath her nose.
What is this guy playing at?
He probably sent her to the bathroom as a chance to escape.

Splashing water on her face, she then used a cloth to wipe off her make-up artist’s tear-ruined masterpiece. She dried off her face then secured her wig. There was no way she would face him again, bald. She couldn’t stand to see the little exclamation point hairs which sprouted here and there. Why would he find that attractive? Yet when she left the bathroom, she couldn’t help but expect to find the suite empty.

Josh watched the firm ass of his date as she walked toward the bathroom. She definitely held his eye, bald head and all, but would she keep his attention? Would she keep up with him?

God, he hoped so. With only one way to find out—a field trip—he picked up the phone.

Shit!
The Planetarium at the College of Southern Nevada had already closed. What kind of star-gazing facility closed early on the night of a big meteor shower? Carson City was too far away. The only other option meant sacrificing his privacy, something he valued over everything.

Had Madame Evangeline really found his ideal date? For some crazy reason, even though she’d ruined his night, he resolved to trust the mysterious woman. Changing into sweatpants and a T-shirt, he threw on some socks, found his running shoes, then waited for Tamara to come out.
Maybe this date won’t be so bad.
She hadn’t run away when she’d seen his scars—instead she’d touched them.

When the door opened, he took pleasure in her nervous apprehension.

“Hi,” she squeaked, like a teenage girl on her first date.

He approached her, holding out his hand. “Let’s do this properly. I’m Josh Summers, your date for this evening.”

She reached for his hand. Instead of shaking hers, he brought it to his lips for a kiss.

She blushed, making her even more appealing. “I’m, ah…Tamara, Tamara Johnson.”

“Well, Miss Johnson, if it is okay with you, I’d like to take you out of the hotel to one of my favorite places to visit.”

He still held onto her hand and she made no motion to pull away. “Um, I don’t think I can, not without….”

Interrupting her next words, he leaned in and kissed her lips then quickly pulled away. “Without what? You already have your wig on, which was unnecessary, but you will need more comfortable clothing.” He led her over to the side of the bed where her bag sat. “What do you have?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, and he wanted to taste those sweet lips again.

“Only what I’m wearing and what you saw me in earlier.”

“We’ll have to take care of that then. Let’s go down to the gym and see what they have.” He hooked his arm around hers but she resisted, not moving.

“I ah, need to put something else on before we go.”

“What else could you need? Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who can’t leave the house without makeup.” He turned toward her, placing his hands on her arms. “Tamara, you’re beautiful without it.”

Her cheeks reddened once more.

“No, I need to put these on.” She reached into her bag and pulled out her matching red lace bra and panties.

Thoughts of her wearing nothing under her short, black dress made him instantly hard. If she bent over, he’d have full view of her sweet spot.

He had to leave the room before he took her right there on the bed. The date mattered too much to ruin it with instant sex. There’d be time enough for that later, after he showed her another part of himself only a select few ever saw. “I’ll let you put those back on. Meet me at the front door when you’re ready.”

Chapter Two

He walked away, leaving her confused. One minute Josh had his hands on her, sending desire coursing through her body, then the next he left for the other room. He’d flushed though, when she’d told him she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Why hadn’t he done anything about it?

But he’d told her she was beautiful. He’d looked directly into her eyes when he’d said the word. And she began to believe him. But had he meant it when she hadn’t been wearing her wig?

She slipped her thong back on. Should she trust the gorgeous hunk she’d been set up with? Spending time with a man who made her feel more confident would do her some good. She couldn’t feel any worse. But would he change his mind? Her stomach sank, remembering how her fiancé had once supported her too, until he changed
his
mind.

She had to get moving before she lost her confidence. Grabbing her bag, she walked out of the room to meet her one-night stand. He grinned at her, the way she’d imagined her fiancé would on the day they married. What could this guy possibly see in her? “I’m ready to go.”

He placed his arm around her back, his hand resting on her side, and guided her out of the suite. “Great. Let’s get you some more appropriate clothes for our date.”

She laughed, the first time she’d laughed around any man in months
.
How were the sweats he wore appropriate for a date? “Where exactly are we going?”