Taste of Temptation (6 page)

Pillows, shoes, sheets, and an array of discarded clothing covered the floor, making Laine's tiptoed trek across the dimly lit bedroom a treacherous one. She picked through one pile, then moved on, picking through another. Where was it?

"What are you looking for, baby?” Jason's gruff voice sounded behind her.

"My dress,” she said quietly, looking up at him across the bed with a smile. A scrap of blanket covered one leg and his waist, leaving the rest of his muscled physique properly displayed. He ran a hand across his chest and then stretched back with his arms locked over his head. Pure masculine motion. The flex of his triceps was too much to resist, and Laine climbed back into the bed. Jason's mouth curved up with his sexy grin, and she wondered how she'd managed not to jump him for so long.

Taking one of her wrists, he pulled her across him so she straddled his waist.

"I thought we had this all worked out. You were going to stay naked for me; I was going to pleasure you beyond your wildest dreams."

Laine laughed. “I assure you, I've been thoroughly pleasured."

Jason smiled, running his hands over her hips. Then he sat up, shifting Laine back on his lap as he leaned over the side of the bed. “Here why don't you put this on for now?” He handed her the white dress shirt he'd been wearing when they descended on his previously immaculate apartment.

She slipped her arms into the huge sleeves and wrapped herself in the fine cotton that smelled of his cologne. “Perfect."

Jason's hands skimmed up the front of the unbuttoned shirt, over the swells of her breasts, and brushed her nipples through the fabric. “Hungry?"

"What?” Not at all where she'd expected him to go next.

Jason grabbed the phone off the nightstand and hit the speed dial. “I have the best open-late Chinese delivery place. Chow's. You like spicy?"

Her stomach rumbled at the mention of food and, considering the workout they'd had, it made sense that she'd need a few extra calories to make it through the night. Chinese sounded fantastic.

She nodded. “Really spicy."

After a warm greeting with whoever answered the phone at Chow's, he began ordering, and after the fifth item, she crawled off his lap, wondering how much carryout Jason ate. He owned a five star restaurant on the second floor, looked to have a fully functional kitchen in the penthouse, and yet he seemed to have committed the entire menu to memory. Her kind of man. He had skills.

Pulling her hair out of the neck of his shirt, she twisted it over one shoulder and ventured out into the apartment, giggling at the evidence of their desperate flight into the bedroom. Finding her dress a few feet in from the elevator doors, she picked it up along with her keys, clutch, and Jason's suit jacket. She set her things in a pile on the end table and then hung his jacket over a chair in the dining room, smoothing the wrinkles as she looked around.

The first time she'd been here, she was so flustered by her cake-coated mad dash for the elevator she hadn't noticed anything beyond the difficulty of washing frosting out of her hair. But now, as she looked around, she saw the penthouse as if for the first time. It was immense. Floor to ceiling windows against the far wall offered a sprawling view of the city's sparkling night lights and the dark void of water beyond. The classic décor was a testament to his good taste, and Laine found herself walking through the space touching every chair and table, wondering if Jason had selected it himself.

Strong arms circled her waist. Warmth pressed against her back. It felt like heaven. “Food's going to be here in fifteen minutes."

Jason brushed her hair back over her shoulder and planted a quick kiss against her neck before crossing over to the piano. Wearing a pair of black track pants and no shirt, he sat down on the bench and began playing “Fly Me to the Moon".

Was there anything this man wasn't good at?

Laine fell into the armchair beside the piano, tucking her legs up beneath her. He played beautifully, fingers dancing over the keys with practiced ease.

"Is this how you get all the girls to fall for you?"

Jason looked up, continuing to play. “Why, is it getting me somewhere?"

Yes.
“I don't know. I think you might have to work a little harder for me. I'm not your average girl, playboy."

He smirked at her. “Playboy?"

"As if you don't know your reputation. When I first started here, you had a different woman on your arm every time I saw you.” She arched her brow for emphasis. “I saw you a lot. What changed?"

"You."

She laughed and dropped her gaze to her lap. It sounded like such a line. But she wanted to believe it.

Jason went on. “Basically, I had a bad lesson in love pretty early. Almost made it down the aisle, but I walked in on my fiancée with a man between her legs the night before the wedding."

Laine's gaze shot to the beautiful man at the piano, stunned at his confidence.

"It turned out everyone knew about it but me. No one wanted to tell me. Anyway, when I told her it was over, she was furious. She wanted to be Mrs. Henley way more than she wanted me. Thought we should get married anyway, that we could both fuck whomever we pleased ... I was in love with her, so that was a big hurt. I didn't want to face it again. So I dated ... a lot,” he said, with a little grin, “never letting anyone get close enough to matter."

She'd known there was a history, but she'd never found out the details. Looking at the man in front of her, his fingers dancing flawlessly over the keys, she wondered how any woman could ever choose to be with another. It didn't make sense. “I'm sorry, Jason."

"Don't be. I have you. I have everything I want."

She was flustered. He said all the right things. So right that she didn't know how to respond and suddenly nerves had her searching for the safety of their typical banter. “You're so sure you have me?"

Jason's jaw shifted to the side. “Okay, you want me to work for it?” He played on and when Laine thought there could be no better way to pass the time, he glanced over at her, a tentative look on his face. “If you tell anyone, I'll throw you off the roof."

"What are you talk—?"

He opened his mouth and, in a low sexy voice that made every hard defense Laine had built around her heart melt into a pool between her legs, put Harry Connick, Jr. to shame.

Laine watched, her heart thudding against her ribs like it wanted to break free and crawl into his lap. Realizing her mouth was hanging open, still frozen mid-question, she snapped it shut. Suddenly she felt like she was the one who had the work to do.

From the kitchen the phone sounded with two sharp trills. Jason jumped up from the piano, rubbing his hands together. “Food's here."

He walked over to the elevator doors and rifled through his wallet for a few bills.

Laine crossed to the piano to admire the silver framed photos displayed atop the dark wood's mirror finish. Pictures of Jason with his parents in various locales around the world. He looked like his father. But his smile was all mom. She wondered what a child of Jason's might look like, maybe a girl—

Her face flooded with heat. The man had taken her back to his apartment for a fling. What the hell was she doing speculating over the mergence of Henley/Malone genes?

What did she even know about Jason outside of work? That he was extraordinary in bed? That he was a glutton when it came to spicy midnight snacks from Chows?

That everything he did surprised her and made her smile. That he always seemed to know what to say to make her laugh. Or that he could talk to her about anything and make her feel like the only person in the world who mattered.

Maybe she knew a few things. Maybe she knew more than she realized.

She swallowed hard. This was so
not
keeping her emotions from spiraling out of control.

The doors swished open behind her and the spicy, sweet aroma of steaming hot food tickled her nose and made her mouth water. Laine pulled the front of Jason's shirt across her chest. It hung almost to her knees, but she still felt self-conscious when the delivery guy glanced in.

"Hey, man, big order tonight. Is this your wedding planner?"

Laine's eyes widened in surprise.

Jason grinned like a goof and, shoving the bills into the delivery guy's hand, took the three handle bags into his own. “Beat it, Jimmy, before you get me in trouble."

Jimmy chuckled and backed into the elevator. “Night, Jay. See you tomorrow."

The doors closed, and Jason brought the food to the floor in front of the fireplace. Tearing into the bags he set up one box after another, opening each to display the bounty.

"You want to pick out something to listen to?"

Laine walked over to the stereo and looked at a couple of the discs lying on top. Jack Johnson, Jason Mraz, Ella Fitzgerald, and The Police to name a few. Nice. “Oh, I love this one,” she said, selecting Maroon 5
Songs about Jane
.

"I know, you were humming that one tune for weeks. I had to ask Karen at the front desk what it was. You don't mind the floor, do you?"

Laine stared down at him. How had she missed it?

She walked over and knelt next to him. “Not at all. What have we got here?"

Plucking up the chopsticks he delved into one of the white boxes and held his pick out to her mouth. “The first cashew, for you."

"Wow, for me?” She parted her lips, accepting the glossy nut, moaning as the sweet toasted flavor coated her tongue. It was spectacularly good. “This must be love."

Jason smiled, leaning back on one arm as he fished out another spicy morsel for her. “The Kung Pao is going to knock your socks off."

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Saturday, the nineteenth of June

Laine all but danced into the hotel lobby. Having spent her first night out of Jason's bed since she fell into it the week before, she was giddy with excitement to see him this morning. After last night's rehearsal, she'd met with Connie to discuss potential problems that might surface with the happy couple, and by the time they'd wrapped up it was late. So she'd gone home, alone, and spent half the night awake, frustrated and thrashing in the sheets, kicking at the cold emptiness around her. But now relief was only a penthouse away.

The wedding would be a breeze, and she was flying high. There was nothing to catch them up. Nothing to worry about.

Laine had kept a watchful eye on the groom, and not once had he even looked at another woman. He barely looked at her, even when she asked him direct questions. She was hoping for another Saturday of smooth-sailing wedding bliss and another night in Jason's arms and bed.

She'd worn the new, shimmering blue dress he'd sent her as a gift to replace the one saturated in the four-tiers of twice-abandoned cake from two weeks ago, and it was going to take all of her restraint not to beg him to tear it off her.

Her plan was to steal a few hours this morning with him before both of their days kicked into high gear. Maybe offer him a little preview of the night to come by showing off the bra and panty set that matched her dress exactly. Ask for his expert opinion on the ease of getting her out of them.

Unable to help herself, she rushed up to the concierge desk and bounced on her toes. “Hi, Jackie, looking lovely this morning. I'm here for Jason."

Jackie flashed a winning smile and nodded quickly. “Sure, Ms. Malone, he left instructions that you head straight up to the residence. Elevator one will take you direct, and I'll call to let him know you're on your way."

"Thank you.” She had to stop smiling like this. Anyone who saw her was bound to read each and every emotion flitting through her head. Her business smile, the bride smile, was warm and reassuring, but only surface deep. It showed what she wanted it to, and nothing more. These days though, she had complete strangers beaming back at her like her grin made their day. It was downright embarrassing. She was out of control ... and it felt incredible.

Inside the elevator, the doors swished shut and the display flashed to “Private car.” She had the perfect greeting in mind, but she had to move fast.

The elevator doors opened, and all conscious thought abandoned Jason's head.

Draped provocatively against the rail of the car, Laine wore nothing but a bra, panties and her matching sapphire blue, strapped heels. With one foot propped against the rail, the other planted firmly on the floor, she was one enticing invitation.

Her eyes flashed mischief from beneath lowered lids as her fingers played at the waist of her tiny panties. “I've been thinking about you all night long."

A deep groan rumbled from somewhere near Jason's stopped heart. He wanted nothing more than to step into the car, sink to his knees in front of her, and set his mouth to giving her something she'd never forget. But he knew he couldn't.

"Laine, you take my breath away.” He stepped into the elevator, stripped off his blazer, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “But I've got to talk to you about something first."

The wanton look disappeared, and she transformed into the controlled creature he so often saw handling nuptial emergencies. “What?” she asked, braced for anything.

God, he didn't want to tell her. Pulling the lapels of his jacket closed across her chest with one hand, he rested the other against her arm.

"It's the groom."

"What? He's nervous, he's missing, he's got cold feet ... I can handle anything short of him being dead. Oh my God, he isn't dead?"

"No, nothing like that—"

"Okay then,” she said with a faltering smile. “He's getting married today, I'll make it work. There isn't another woman, I know—"

"He's gay."

Laine's eyes closed for a long moment, and the breath leaked out of her in a slow hiss. “Are you sure?"

"After you left, I had one of our guys keep an eye on him. I ... I was trying to help. My guy followed him into the ballroom and found him making out with one of the groomsmen. Apparently they were rather passionate. He left discreetly, figuring there was no stopping something that had already started."

"So no one knows?"

Jason stared at her. “Not yet. You're the first. It's up to you how we break it to the girl. I'll do it, if you'd rather not have her associate the news with Blissful Brides—"

"No.” She sighed heavily, her eyes focused on some distant point in space as she stepped into her dress. “I'll be the one to tell her. But I've got to tell Connie first. I'm sure she'll have some kind of damage control in mind."

"I'm sure.” It was physically painful to watch Laine dress without touching her the way he'd spent the whole of last night thinking about. Especially after the greeting he'd gotten in the elevator.

Pulling the straps of her dress up, Laine turned around, shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “A little help?"

"Of course.” Jason placed his hands low on her spine and pulled the zipper up, closing off the smooth skin on her gorgeous back. He twisted her sleek fall of hair aside and clasped the dress closed. The smell of her hit him like an anvil. She was fresh, clean with a hint of something citrus and herbal.

Not sure he'd be able to control himself this close to her, he stepped back two paces and jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit pants.

Laine sank into the deep cushions of his couch and stared at her phone. She looked so small, her knees pressed together, ankles apart. Finally she punched in the numbers to contact her boss and, resting her forehead against one hand, effectually shielded her face from his scrutiny.

"I'll give you a bit of privacy.” He moved off toward the kitchen and fiddled with the coffee maker. He poured the water in, and then dumped several scoops of grounds into the filter. Strong stuff, the way she liked it. Sugar, no cream.

Stepping over to the breakfast bar for a couple of thick mugs, he stole a peek into the other room. Laine's face looked strained, her hand open wide as if frozen mid-gesture.

"Connie, I get that ... no, she doesn't know...” Her eyes flashed up at Jason, then quickly away. Rising off the couch, she hunched forward and walked back toward the elevator.

Jason's hands gripped the counter. He should have given her more privacy, but ... The look of guilt he'd seen on Laine's face was twisting his stomach in knots. He should have known Connie wouldn't want to tell the bride about the groom's secret. She'd be more worried about another last minute failure than the actual happiness and success of two real people.

A woman was about to walk down the aisle and vow to love and cherish this one man for the rest of her life—a man who spent the night before in the arms of another man. It wasn't fair.

Connie didn't have much of a heart in that bony little chest of hers, but he knew Laine would do the right thing.

He knew her. She would have to.

He couldn't be wrong again.

Laine stood at the door to the elevator, her body language suggesting defeat. She pulled the phone away from her ear, covering the receiver with her hand, and looked at Jason. “I've got to take care of this. I'll talk to you later."

The hollow expression on her face made him want to pull her back into the apartment and demand she tell him what she was going to do. Assure him that she'd never consider putting business before someone else's life.

No. That was crazy. He didn't need her to tell him, he knew it already. So he smiled his reassuring smile and nodded. “I've got a meeting in about forty-five minutes, but I'll be back in a few hours. Call me if you need anything."

She nodded and stepped into the elevator she'd barely stepped out of. As the doors closed, all he heard was Laine's resigned voice. “Fine, fine. I understand, Connie ... I said I understand ... no one—"

Laine paced the halls of the eighth floor. Connie's last words ate at her gut. Some girls don't want to know...

The dark halls of memories lit, one after another, to the worst day of her life. Swallowing hard at the memory, she felt bile rising in her throat. Her brother-in-law, only hours before his wedding, pulling her into the stairwell and kissing her. Her sister, Gail, screaming that Laine had ruined her special day. Demanding to know why she couldn't have just kept her mouth shut.

Laine shook away the tear-streaked phantom, damning the choice that she'd been faced with. It never occurred to her that her sister wouldn't have wanted to know, that Gail would go through with the ceremony regardless. Like it never occurred to her that she would be written out of her sister's life forever. Or that she would end up so driven to fix her mistake she would make a career out of it.

Laine stared at the phone in her trembling hand. She had to do it. Dialing the number, she hit send and waited through four rings before the line picked up.

"Gail? It's me, Laine. Please don't hang up. I really need to talk to you."

A long silence followed. Laine stopped pacing, stopped breathing. She waited.

"Laine, are you okay?"

She closed her eyes and nodded, trying to push the sound out through a throat seized with emotion. How many years had it been since she heard her sister say her name? “Yes, sort of. I'm sorry, but I need to talk to you."

"Okay ... What is it?"

"After all these years, do you still believe you would have been happier if I hadn't told you about Danny?"

A cool hiss of breath came through the line, and Laine thought she was about to be hung up on. But then Gail answered, her voice slow, reflective.

"Maybe. For a while. I was twenty. So young. Danny? It's possible things would have been different between us if I hadn't known. Or maybe if I'd found out for myself what he was like, instead of being so wrapped up in blaming someone else—you—and trying so hard to prove everyone wrong, I might have left him before getting pregnant. But then I wouldn't have my daughters. And Danny is, for the most part, a decent man. I guess I could have done worse. I don't know."

Laine bowed her head, her heart aching for them both. “How are the girls? The pictures at Mom's are beautiful."

Gail's voice brightened, bringing Laine up with her. “The girls are wonderful. So smart and funny.” She laughed. “Trina is five, and she reminds me of you the most. Makes me laugh all the time."

Somehow it made a difference to know that even though her sister hadn't spoken to her, she'd at least thought of her. That was something.

"Laine, I still wish you'd never told me what Danny pulled before the wedding, but not because you were wrong to do it. Because I've missed you so much. I'm sorry. I was wrong and pig-headed. And then I was so embarrassed. It wasn't your fault, and I've know it for a long time. I just had too many problems to face up to fixing this one. Honey, I love you."

Laine choked back a sob, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I love you too."