On the Ropes (3 page)

Janette could only stare at him. He’d surprised her more in the past twenty minutes than he had in twelve months, and if he kept up the current rate, her brain may well explode. It was half her fault, though. She’d had countless opportunities to ask him questions, but she hadn’t—didn’t want to show her interest. Women who played hard to get weren’t especially inquisitive. But by her very nature, she just
was
. Her mother had taught her that asking questions made her smart, but her father had told her that they showed off everything she didn’t know. That they made her sound stupid.

She’d grown up believing that her curiosity was unattractive, and had constructed an outer shell of disinterest. On the inside, though, she wanted to make small connections to people. Learn from them. Not be afraid of them.

Wringing her hands, she allowed herself one question and promised herself she’d ask the rest later. “How old were you?”

Once more, he grimaced. “Uh, I was in seventh grade, I think, so around twelve.”

“You started boxing when you were
twelve
?” She couldn’t help the incredulity in her voice. What must he have been like back then? He probably hadn’t even been well into puberty yet. Scrawny kid with attention issues.

He must have noticed the hitch of her voice, because he cocked his right eyebrow up as he grinned at her. “Yep. Twelve. Mom tried to put her little foot down about it. She figured the very last thing a kid with ADHD needed was to get concussed and have one more reason for his brain to not cooperate. Dad thought it’d be good for me, so she backed down. Every time I brought home a black eye, though, she started up again.”

“I’m certain I would have done the exact same thing. No woman wants to think about her child getting punched in the face.”

“I know. She liked my face, too.”

“I’m not taking that bait. You’re fishing for compliments.”

“So sue me. I’ve got an ego to stoke. Tell me I’m handsome, and I’ll buy you dessert with your dinner.”

She grinned, and couldn’t help it. He really was disarming. “I can buy my own dessert.”

“You’d do anything to get out of telling me something nice, wouldn’t you? Come on, just throw me one little bone. You haven’t said anything nice to me in all the time I’ve known you.”

“That’s a rude exaggeration, and you know it.” Certainly, she’d complimented him on something before. Maybe she hadn’t been overly effusive in the way he was probably used to, but she wasn’t so cold that she couldn’t hint at her appreciation for his fine form. Was she?

“I can’t think of a single time, Jan.”

Jan
. “Janette” was a straight-spined woman who never had a hair out of place or raised her voice in public.
Jan
sounded like a woman who was on a first-name basis with her bartender and was able to go with the flow. Which was she? She’d rather be the second.

So, a compliment…

She entwined her fingers and turned her head minutely in his direction. He was still wearing a button-up shirt, suspenders, and suit slacks. She’d only seen him in slacks once, at his sister’s wedding held at the resort, but even then she’d marveled at the snug fit over his ass.

Mind out of the gutter. So not going there
.

“You wear pants quite nicely,” she said and looked away.

“Quite nicely, you say? I’m blushing, sweetheart.”

God, the way his pants pulled around his muscular thighs was going to drive her to distraction, too. The last thing she needed was for him to catch her openly admiring the general area of his crotch. He’d probably pull over and suggest she do something about it if she liked it so much.

She licked her lips at the thought.

“You might need to take the steering wheel in case I swoon.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Well, I tried, didn’t I?”

“Yoda would say
Do or do not. There is no try
. So, one more time. Compliment me.”

“Or else what?”

“You’re a bit defiant, aren’t you? I don’t know if I like that or want to fix it.”

“Fix it?” She pressed her hand over her throat, as swallowing had suddenly become a chore. Her cheeks burned so hot, she thought her ears would pop. He was always so fucking vague about what his kinks were, and so her imagination had been working in overdrive. “How would you fix it?”

His grin broadened slightly. “I think I’d prefer to keep that a surprise. Up to you, though. I’m a big proponent of choice, and I’m giving you one. Compliment me, or get the surprise.”

“I’ll take the surprise.”
Oh, God, surprise me until I come.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into, but I admire your courage.”

She’d actually had the compliment right there on the tip of her tongue, but he was right—when it came to him, she was defiant. Maybe it was because she was too comfortable with him. Or maybe it was because she’d rarely been allowed to exhibit any degree of unruliness. But, what did she expect? She’d been taken in begrudgingly, and had been expected to be neither seen nor heard unless it benefitted the family somehow.

She closed her eyes and tried to shake the negative thoughts from her mind. Those kinds of thoughts were what had kept her from looking for her mother before now. She needed to get out of that place in her head and think about her situation rationally, or all she would know was anxiety. The perfect distraction was sitting right next to her, and he was willing to be used.

She pulled in a deep breath and rubbed her sore ankle through her skirt fabric. “I’m on vacation. I’m going to try something out of the ordinary.”

“And I’m proud to be your personal tour guide to the dark side, sweetheart, but I’ve gotta ask…”

“Ask what?”

“You’ve been resisting my advances for all this time. What made you change your mind?”

Damn it.

How could she get out of her own head if he was trying to get into it, too?

Jan didn’t answer.

That was typical for her, though. In fact, she did detachment better than any woman Stephen had ever met, and he’d met a
lot
. His money kept the gold-diggers clamoring. His family name kept the upwardly mobile socialites on their toes. He’d gotten them all on their knees, used them for what he wanted, and was happy to be rid of them when they left. They didn’t really like him anyway. They all fed into the rumor that he was sadistic, which was a great laugh because he was the one who started the rumor.

He wasn’t. They just believed what he told them, and tried to get into his bedroom, anyway.

Jan’s diffidence was what had initially drawn him to her—that she didn’t seem to give a shit about him beyond the realm of normal customer service. She didn’t know who he was or what his net worth was like. The first time he’d seen her, she’d been standing behind her counter at the Bermudian resort where his sister Meg was married. She’d been so poised and elegant, and if she’d been frustrated at all by the belligerent guests shouting at her, she didn’t show it. Her lovely face was a mask of serene professionalism, and he’d wondered just what it would take to crack her.

He must have asked to buy her dinner or a drink no fewer than five times before he had to fly home, and every “no” bolstered his already considerable motivation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take no for an answer—his ego was large, but healthy—but she’d intrigued him and he couldn’t give up until she gave him a good reason.

Jan never gave a reason. Just “No, thank you.” When she’d said yes this time, he had to have his secretary re-read her message twice to make sure he wasn’t reading with the wrong context. It’d been a Hail Mary kind of proposition. He’d laid everything on the line figuring he had nothing to lose.

Jan, spend a week with me? My sister and I have a house on the beach, and we’re meeting there Labor Day weekend. The house is about a hundred paces to the water, has a hot tub built for six, a massive sunroom, and my bed there is large enough to stage an orgy. If you don’t want to bask in the afterglow with me, that’s fine. Just roll over and there’ll be an entire continent between us.

Let me know what flight you’re coming in on and I’ll pick you up at baggage claim.

He’d hit
send
and expected she’d return a “Funny, but no, thank you,” message in the morning. Instead, he’d found a terse response with her inbound flight time, and the question, “
What should I bring?
”

He couldn’t fucking believe it.

So, yes, he wanted to know why she’d finally changed her mind. It wasn’t that he’d become any more charming in twelve months. Maybe he’d just worn her down, and, well… That wasn’t good enough. If all he wanted from her was sex, it might be, but the fact of the matter was that he was thirty-seven years old and tired of games. He wanted what his sister had—a rock-solid marriage and a happy kid. Unfortunately, he wanted those things with a woman who didn’t want
him
.

He decided to drop the question for the moment, hoping she’d share when she was ready. Some people just didn’t like to have to explain themselves. Meg was like that. He was used to dancing around her reticence, and so he’d do it with Jan, too.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, as I was saying before, during peak season, there are lot of bars and grills open late on the Outer Banks. Beyond that, your best bet for a meal is finding an open grocery store and cooking yourself. I’d prefer we make one big trip to the store tomorrow and get something easy tonight. I’ve had about four hours of sleep in the past day and a half, and I really want to exert myself as little as possible at this point.”

“Day and a half? For goodness sake, how long was the drive from Boston?”

Was that a note of concern in her voice, or just annoyance? He hoped it was concern, and if not…well, part of his week ahead would be devoted to making her give a damn about him. “About ten hours,” he said. “I stopped about halfway through. I was somewhere between Middle of Nowhere and Bumfuck, and there wasn’t a hotel anywhere close. I took a nap at a rest stop. I’ve probably had two liters of coffee since then.”

She bolted upright and put her feet on the floor. “Jesus Christ, Stephen. Would you like me to drive?”

Her pained expression made him chuckle. God, she was a stunner. Her newly cropped hair kept all the focus on her face. Dark, piercing eyes. Skin the ruddy hue of sand smoothed by waves. Flawless cheekbones and pouty lips. How many times had he imagined sliding his cock between them?

Too many.

He cursed his choice of suspenders over a belt, because he had a sudden need to untuck his shirt to disguise certain activity at his crotch. He may have lured her here with promises of wild sex, but he had to make her wait for it.

“Do you even have a driver’s license?” he asked.

She dropped her chin to her chest and stared up at him with more than a hint of indignation. “Of course I do.”

“Just asking. Bermuda’s a small island.”

“And I believe in being self-sufficient. I do own a car. I don’t drive much, but I’m perfectly capable of it.”

“And in traffic like we have here?”

She sighed. “No. Not confident.”

“See.” He chuckled, feeling infinitely more wakeful now than he had been a couple of hours ago. Having her here,
finally
, made his body thrum with anticipation. He’d been plotting out his course of action for so long, and now he was finally going to get his hands on her. He wanted to explore every inch of her silken brown skin and learn every curve, every wrinkle, every scar.

But not yet. He’d waited this long, and he could wait a while longer. Until she liked him.

“So… Megan is joining us
when
?” she asked.

“If she’s not there already, then she and Seth should be there in the morning. Why?”

“Just curious,” she said lightly, and he knew that forced lightness all too well. His mother had used a similar voice when having conferences with his teachers.

“He’s very interesting. Mr. Rozhkov, I mean,” Jan said.

“I’d actually say interesting is an
understatement
.”

The Russian astrophysicist was basically a big, nerdy teddy bear, and apparently, that turned out to be surly Meg’s type. She couldn’t have done better if Stephen had picked a guy out for her himself. And he’d tried.

“I still can’t believe you and Mr. Rozhkov got arrested.”

Stephen groaned. “Shit, I wish I hadn’t told you about that. You probably think badly of me, and look—the guy fucking deserved it.”

He and Seth had
kind of
beat up Meg’s ex-husband and his manager. Unfortunately, it’d been in public. They all got arrested, but Stephen was a good lawyer, and they’d had a restaurant full of witnesses that said Spike threw the first punch…even if he didn’t. Spike made enemies everywhere he went.

“I don’t think badly of you. I think it’s noble, actually.”

That revelation from his straight-laced companion sent his eyebrows right up to the stratosphere. “Are you serious?”

“Mm-hmm.” She put up her hands. “Not that I advocate violence at all, but you were standing up for your sister’s honor. No one’s ever done anything like that for me. I don’t think anyone would want to.” She added that last part in a whisper, and he wasn’t sure it was even meant for him to hear. He had, though. He wouldn’t press.

He turned onto 158, and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel some more. The fact she thought she didn’t have anyone at her back was a damn shame. Perhaps it wasn’t just a perception, and was actually true. His heart ached for her, either way. He knew how important having someone intuitive and capable in one’s corner was. A little show of faith from someone could make the difference between carrying on and giving up the fight. He’d learned that lesson in boxing and applied it to real life. Not just anyone could give him the kind of support he needed when he needed it. That encouragement had to come from someone he trusted, and perhaps she didn’t have that.

He wouldn’t mind being that person for her.

He stole a glance at her. She was turned away, staring out her window. Getting her to open up would be like trying to open a pineapple with bare hands, but over the past year of correspondence, he’d decided that she was worth the effort. He’d never before wanted to figure anyone out—take
care of
anyone—like he did with her.