Chapter 4
Needledick strolled through the front doors as if he were walking in a funeral procession rather than to the start of his shift. He was twenty-five minutes late, and I tried not to glare at him, but with each step he took, I increased the clamp on my jaw.
I hoped he didn’t think I’d cover for him today so he couldgo backto bed. Although I’d done it once before, I had no intention of doing it again.Especially after the night I’d just had—all I wanted to do wasflop into bed.
“Morning.” He sounded as if he’d just finished his tenth cigarette for the morning, though I was pretty sure he didn’t smoke.
“Hi.” I reached for my purse under the counter, ready to race out of there, and when I stood up, he snapped his eyes away. Oh, my God! Needledick had just checked out my butt. I squinted at him, and a red flush blazed up his neck.
He cleared his throat. “How was the night?”
I backed away and edged around the counter in a weird backward stride. “It was crazy, actually.”
“Oh, really. You didn’t see that prostitute, did you?” The excitement in his eyes made him look a little psycho.
“No, I didn’t.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m going to gether. You watch.” He rubbed his right fist in his left palm, no doubt attempting some kind of “I’m in charge” stance.
That simple move got me angry. For a man in charge, he sure didn’t act it. “Why do you even think she’s a prostitute?”
“She walks like one.”
“Oh, and how many prostitutes have you seen?”
His mouth gaped, and he blinked a few times. “Well, none in person. Only what I’ve seen on television.”
“Excellent. So, how exactly did this woman look?” I thrust my chin at him, showing him who was boss.
“She had on a trench coat and?—”
“Oh, well then.” I rolled my eyes and flipped my hand. “She’sobviouslya prostitute.”
“No . . . it was more than that.”
“What then?”
He frowned and shook his head so fast it was possible itcouldfall off. “You’ll know when you see her.”
I waved my handin a dismissive move, turned on my heel, and headed toward the elevator—then, at the thought of him perving on my bottom, I turned and walked backward.“I think you’re making a mistake withher,” I yelled across the lobby.
“Mark my words, with all these men asking for Memphis, she’ll come back, and when she does, I’ll make her regret she ever came here.”
Thank God the elevator pinged open. I stepped in and collapsed against a wall as I jabbed the button to my floor a million times. How many men have been asking for me?
I glared at my reflection, and a littlebit ofdread glared back at me. Icy barbs stabbed my back as the elevator made its slow crawl upward, and, in the silence, the angel and the devil in my brain kicked into a fierce debate.
You are not a prostitute.
But you do sleep with random strangers.
That doesn’t make me a prostitute—just horny.
Yes, but your horny inclinations are making you take uncharacteristic risks.
But the risks are worth it.
Worth losing your job over?
By the time I’d reached my room and opened the door, my head was spinning. Around and around, the debate cycled until I wanted to squeeze my temples so hard that my brain might burst from the top. I put the kettle on and strode to the bath. With the taps on full, I dumped all the contents of the bubble bath Marjorie had given me for Christmas into the tumbling water.
With the angel and devil in my head about to break into a fistfight, I strode out onto my balcony, clutched at the railing, and sucked in the fresh ocean breeze. In through my nose, out my mouth. Closing my eyes, I repeated the meditation and let the glorious sunshine warm my flesh. Even though the sun was shining, winter still had a slight chill in the air.
“Jane.”
I snapped my eyes open and blinked at the glare.
“Jane.”
I peered over the railing and couldn’t believe my eyes. Henry Addison, my suave tutor, stood next to a sleek black car and waved up at me. Even from this distance, I saw the huge smile on his face.
Giggling, I waved down at him.
“Want to go for a ride?”
Hell, yes.Heheld two arms abovehishead as if ready to catch me.
“Okay.” Henry didn’t know it, but he’d already caught me many timesover. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Excellent. I’ll wait right here.” He patted the car’s rooftop.
I squealed as I raced back inside, peeling off my clothes at frightening speed. Thoughts of flopping into bed evaporated, and my heart entered a playful gallop as I turned off the bath taps, pulled the plug, and turned on the shower. In the hot cascade as I lathered in my favorite mandarin-scented soap, the angel and devil debate I’d had just minutes ago was long gone, replacedinsteadwith brilliant images of Henry with his magical hands all over my body. Hereallydid know exactly how to save me.
After I toweled off, I applieda touch ofmakeup to cover my freckles and darken my lashes. I brushed my teeth and dabbed some Pinky Promiselippyon. Now to choose what to wear.It occurred to me that I should ask Henry where we were going.
I tried to picture what he had on downstairs, and after a moment’s pause, I wasfairlycertainhe’d been in jeans. That convinced me that casual was the way to go. I chose denim jeans and a blue-and-white striped T-shirt. I tugged on a dark blue blazer and wrapped a navy silk scarf around my neck, then matched itupwith fake pearl earrings and a matching necklace.
Glancing at my shoes, I mulled over which ones to choose.So many of them had never been worn, and I loved giving them sexy memories. Reaching to the back of my closet, I plucked a pair of caramel-colored Splendid Jayla sandals. The wedge cork heel was only three inches high; hopefully, it wouldbe suitable forwhatever Henry had planned.
I glanced in the mirror.Grinned.Chewedon my lip and grinned some more. I was positively glowing. Something about Henry made me look good.
With a skip in my step, I grabbed my bag, sunglasses, and room key, and inthe elevator, I fiddled with my hair until I arrived at the lobby.I wiped the smile away as I strode past Needledick with a scowl.
My smilewas backonce I entered the sunshine, and my insides flipped over the prospect of a couple of hours with my suave tutor.
Henry strolled to me and placed his hand on the small of my back when he kissed my cheek. He smelled perfect; spices of the Orient drifted off his skin as he kissed my other side. If my memory served me correctly, he was wearing the same aftershaveashe had the first time we’d met. Maybe it was his lucky scent. It sure was mine.
He guided me to his car and opened the door for me to step in. I wriggled into the seat and inhaled fresh leather odors as he came around the driver’s side.
“New car?” I asked the second he sat beside me.
“Rental.”
“Oh.” It occurred to me that I had no idea where Henry lived.Actually,I barely knew anything about him. I’d just jumped into a car with a near stranger. Yet, somehow, that bothered me very little.In fact,it inspired me to learn more about this sexy older man at my side.
As he accelerated away, I decided that now was the ideal time for it. “So, do you live near here?”
“No. Sydney.”
“Oh. Did you fly up for another conference?”
He slowed down to stop at a red light. “No . . . to see you.” He turned, and the intensity in his dark irises caught in the light through the sunroof.
My jaw dropped, and I nearly needed my palm to slot it back into place. “Oh.” Words were impossible to form.
Thankfully, the light turned green, and he returned his attentionbackto the road. He reached up, flicked a button and the glass panel in the roof glided open.Sunstreamed in, bathing me in a lovely warm glow.
“Is that okay?” His voice was equally warm.
“It’s perfect.”
We drovein silencefor a while, with the ocean on my left-hand side and him on my right. Everywhere I looked, my vista was magnificent.
Henry had a comfortable yet intriguing aura about him. I didn’t think I’d ever felt so relaxed next to a man, and as the miles rolled on, I reminded myself of how lucky I was to have met him.It would never have happened without Memphis, and I’dbe forever grateful to her for that.
“What are you thinking about?”
He caught me off guard. “Oh, ummm . . .”
“There’s no need to keep secrets from me. We don’treallyknow each other.”
“It’s . . . it’s not that, it’s?—”
“Tell me quick, or I’ll think you’re fibbing.”
I gasped at him.
“Quick.” He laughed and lightly slapped my thigh.
Giggling, I adjusted my position on the seat so I could see him better. “Okay, I was just thinking how lucky I was that Memphis found you.”
He nodded. “You’re fibbing.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.It was me whofound you—once when you were eating Iced VoVos and the second time when you were pretending to be Memphis.”
I huffed. “Okay, you’re right about the Iced VoVos meeting, but I wasn’t pretending to be Memphis—I was Memphis.”
He turned onto the main highway and accelerated. “Do you still pretend to be Memphis?”
Oh, God.Did Ireallywant to have this conversation? I reachedupunder my sunglasses and rubbed my left eye, stalling for a response.
“It’s okay. It’s none of my business.”
I blinked at him. That was true, and yet, for some reason, I felt terrible for not answering. But then, I guessed by not responding, I was, in fact, giving him an answer. Either way, I’d lost.
“I hope you’re still doing it.”
His comment jolted me back to the present. “Huh?”
“I imagine the confidence boost must be exhilarating.”
I blinked at him, taking in every aspect of my sexy silver fox.
“How long have you been doing it?”
Dammit.I was supposed to be askinghimthe questions. I sighed and decided I might as well get this over with. “My first time was the 1st of January.”
“Oh, wow. Are you keeping tabs or something?”
I inwardly cringed. “Something like that.”
He glanced at me, and itwas his turn to drop his jaw.“You are keeping tabs. Tell me.”
I shifted my legs straight on again, all of a sudden uncomfortable with kissing and telling.
“Come on, Memphis Jane. I’m an old man; I want to hear all about your sexual escapades.”
His Memphis Jane label made me squirm,because that was exactly what Corben had called me just last week. All of a sudden, the men in my life were becoming very interested in me. It was vastly different from what had happened during my last three years. Andmy entire life, for that matter.
“First of all,” I said, “you’re not old.”
He waggled his head. “Well, that’s all relative.”
“Okay then. I don’t think of you as old.”
His grin lit up his face. “Thank you.”
“Secondly, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“Ahhh. Memphis has morals. I like that.”
It was my turn to slap him, and when he laughed, I laughed right along with him.
At the top of a hill, the spectacular view took my breath away.Down belowwas dark green vegetation dotted with the occasional rooftop, and beyond that was a strip of golden sand skirted by dark, blue ocean that stretched as far as I could see.We cruised down the other side of the hill and crossed a bridge over a large expanse of the Tweed River.
On the other side, four lanes curledaroundto the right and carried on along the highway. We, however, turned off onto a much smaller road.
Water was still on my left-hand side, but now it was the Tweed River rather than the ocean.Henry slowed,and pressed a button towound downour windows.The breeze caught in my hair and scarf, and I tugged on them to keep them in place.
“Too cold?”
“No. It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect.”
My insides launched into party mode, and turning to him, I chewed on my bottom lip.
“It’s a compliment, Jane. Say, thank you.” He didn’t say that in a bossy or mean way, and as I considered his comment, I realized he was teaching me again.
“Thank you.”
“Good. Now take your top off.”
“What?” I burst out laughing.
He pointed up. “This is a deserted road. Take your top off and stand up through the sunroof.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I’m serious.
“I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. I can tell you want to.” Henry teased, and his grin was spectacular.
Oh, jeez, what have I got myself into this time?