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of her body.
When Jake raised her up and pulled away, she was dizzy, turned on and ready for more.
“Now when we’re together in front of your dad, we’ll act more like a couple,” he said, taking her hand and leading her back to the table.
Disoriented, Lucy grabbed her beer and took a couple deep swallows.
Jake nursed his beer and grinned at her, seemingly unaffected by what had just happened.
He sure could turn it on and off easily, couldn’t he?
But could she? Because she was hot and bothered as hell, and not at all ready to stop
what he’d just started.
This game she’d agreed to might be more than she could handle.
A lot more.
Chapter Three
Jake was out of his mind. Certifiable. What had he been thinking, suggesting that Lucy use him to get her father off her back?
He couldn’t even blame booze as the cause of his idiotic suggestion. He’d only had one beer when he made the offer to Lucy.
He could think of a lot of fun ways that Lucy Fairchild could use him. But as a boy toy? No thanks.
And kissing her? Yeah, that had been a huge mistake, because she’d tasted like everything he wanted, and knew he’d never be able to have. He was in way over his head
on this one.
Shoving the paperwork on his desk aside, he grabbed his now cold coffee and headed
to the counter for a warm up. How in hell was he going to get out of this mess he’d
volunteered for? He had no time for this. Work was intensifying, he had bids to catch up
on before he missed the deadlines, and he needed to be here every day to oversee the
construction.
Spending time escorting Lucy around would be a colossal waste of his time. He had
no relationship with her, had no interest in her other than their one date that was more a
dare than anything. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t attracted to her.
That wild, curly hair was like a part of her personality. A part she kept well hidden, if she even knew it existed. He’d love to be the one to unleash the fire he suspected she
held deep inside. He’d bet a year’s income that under that cool, socialite exterior beat the
heart of a tigress. He’d sampled a bit of that wildness last night. It only left him craving
more.
She was so damn vulnerable it made him ache. She’d looked lost sitting at the bar last night, mumbling about how to extricate herself from her father’s clutches.
The old
man had her on a leash, trying to dictate how she should live her life.
And his little tigress didn’t like it one bit. He could tell she was literally chomping at
the bit to be free, but her father had some kind of hold on her, and she couldn’t figure out
how to get loose.
Yet. With a little help, she could. But dammit, why had he volunteered to be her rescuer?
“Uh oh. What’s wrong?”
Jake turned at the sound of Bob’s voice. “Just busy.” Bob climbed up the stairs and threw his clipboard on the desk. “You’re scowling like
you’re pissed as hell about something.”
Yeah, at himself. “Nah, nothing’s wrong. Just trying to get my head around this project.”
“You’re doin’ fine, kid. Don’t worry about it. You got the smarts that most people with them fancy degrees only wished they had. And you’re a damn fine construction
boss. Don’t sweat it.”
“Thanks.” Easier said than done. He had to sweat it, had to worry about it. About everything. He couldn’t fail.
“So, are you gonna tell me or will I have to pry it out of you like a dentist after tooth
decay?”
“Tell you what?”
“About the date last night.”
“Nothing much to tell.” Maybe if he played it off like no big deal, Bob would let it drop.
“That good, huh?”
No such luck. “It was…interesting.”
“How so?”
The man was worse than having a mother around. “Just interesting.”
“You gonna see her again?”
“Not a chance,” he lied. The last thing he needed right now was browbeating from Bob. The less he knew the better.
“Why not?”
Jake shrugged. “She’s not my type.”
Bob smirked, his devilish eyes full of glee. Jake didn’t even want to think about what
was rolling around the old man’s head.
“Why isn’t she your type?”
God, would the inquisition never end? “She’s too short, too big in the hips. She’s conceited, talks all about herself, boring as hell and I’d rather spend a night at a bridge
club tournament than have to put up with Lucy Fairchild again.” Bob spit his tobacco into the cup on the floor, then grinned like a madman. “She’s standing right behind you.”
Huh? He turned quickly to find the subject of their discussion standing at the entrance to the trailer, her arms folded across her chest, an annoyed look on her gorgeous
face.
Oh, hell. How much had she heard?
“Was I mistaken last night when you mentioned you wanted to go out again?
Because it sure sounded like you’d rather have brain surgery without anesthesia than
another date with me.”
Crap. She’d heard it all.
“I, uh, I, uh…”
“I wouldn’t worry about that stuff he said, honey.” Bob grinned at Lucy on his way out and said, “He just made up a pack of lies so I wouldn’t make him admit how much he
really does like you.”
Lucy smiled at Bob and leveled a smirk in Jake’s direction. “I’ll keep his tendency to
lie in mind. By the way, I’m Lucy Fairchild.”
“Bob Dixon.” Bob shook Lucy’s hand, then made his escape.
Oh sure, Jake thought. Desert the captain of the ship as he’s about to be boarded by a
ruthless pirate. A very irritated one at that.
“Sorry,” he said as she stepped into the room. “Foot in mouth disease. I get it a lot.”
“I meant what I said,” she said, looking not at all comfortable standing in the middle
of the room.
“Relax and sit down.” He pulled a chair for her in front of his desk. “It’s a little cramped in here, but you don’t need to hover in the middle of the room.”
“I’m fine standing.”
Yeah,
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