A Case for Calamity (3 page)

She winced. “I have a tendency to get carried away.”

“You know what they say? You get what you pay for.”

She frowned at the implied insult, and he threw back his head on a laugh. Still snickering, he dropped an arm across her shoulders and squeezed her to his side.

“I was joking.” He left his arm where it was, urging her forward. “It’s a pleasure to see the city through the eyes of someone so passionate about it.”

Too flustered to object to being held against his side, she went along without argument.

“You visit often, I take it?”

She smiled. “As often as possible. I came the first time as a child and fell in love. I’ve lost myself in the city’s history many times.”

Despite the hour, Rue de Lutèce teamed with people, eating, shopping, and lingering to enjoy a host of street entertainers. Gabe released her to purchase two steaming hot chocolates.

Jane scowled as he stepped away. She had no business mourning the loss of his arm across her shoulders, his side pressed to hers. They were two people enjoying a fall evening in Paris, nothing more.

He returned to hand her one of the cups, and her heart clenched at the little-boy grin brightening his tanned face as he tapped his cup to hers. Distressed, she dipped her head. He didn’t know her real name, and yet here she was, falling a little in love with a virtual stranger she would never see again after tonight.

“Come on.” He slid a hand to the small of her back, leading her across the pedestrian way.

She shook off her darkening mood.
Enjoy the moment, Jane. Tomorrow is another day.

Gabe added several bills to the cash others had dropped into a shallow basket as a talented group of tumblers flipped and twirled in time to the soaring classical music pouring from a boombox. Next, a swarthy puppeteer made them laugh at the antics of the miniature Frenchman seducing a pretty maid from the end of his strings.

They wandered aimlessly, window shopping, stopping to enjoy other street performances. When Gabe took her hand in his, she didn’t protest. Tonight was a moment out of time. Reality would intrude soon enough.

They walked for hours, stopping here and there to appreciate the view, but mostly they talked. She spoke of her childhood, carefully editing out any mention of the Whitmore name. She told him of her little girl dream of becoming a veterinarian—until she discovered she’d have to put sick and injured animals down. She replaced Shae’s name with her own, laughing as she relayed some of the more outrageous trouble she and her mischievous friend,
Jane
, had gotten into as kids.

He talked of spending his childhood on a busy ranch outside of Dallas, of how the hard work and open range were Godsends after his father’s death when he was twelve. He admitted to missing the lifestyle desperately when he first left for college, and though he claimed his sharp longing for that simple life had faded over the years, his eyes dimmed with helpless acceptance when he lamented at how little time he found to spend at the ranch these days. He offered only a single sentence about his mother, who’d apparently left while he was a toddler.

His green eyes lit with satisfied pleasure as he talked of buying his first plane and of the day his company climbed out of the red into the black. Mostly, he spoke of his grandmother, a woman he clearly loved, and how she’d kept him on the straight and narrow when he would have veered off.

It was late when he finally stopped, using the grip on her hand to pull her out of the way of a laughing group of young people passing by. “This is my hotel.”

“Oh.” Loathe to see the evening end, she stared up at the six-story structure. “Oh, well, then.” Like all good things, their moment in time was over.

“Shae—”

“I had a nice time.” After the pleasure of the last few hours, her friend’s name on his lips was a cold slap of reality. She spoke over him, meeting his gaze and wishing she could burn the image into her brain. “Thanks for walking with me.”

He lifted her hand to toy with her fingers. “I know I’m rushing things, but…I don’t want the evening to end.”

Her heart fluttered wildly. “Neither do I.”

He dropped his forehead to rest against hers. “Then come up with me.”

Tempted more than she’d ever been in her life, she chewed on her lip.

He straightened. “If you want to leave, at any time, I won’t stop you.”

She shouldn’t, couldn’t. Could she?

What was she thinking? Her life might be a series of calamities, most of them of her own making, but she didn’t sleep with men within hours of meeting them. That type of thing simply wasn’t smart. Much worse, it wasn’t safe. But God…the undisguised desire in his eyes was enough to make her break out in a sweat—or tears.

“I’m healthy.” He spoke as if reading her mind. “I always practice safe sex, without exception.”

Her slightly hysterical hiccup of laughter sounded like a sob. His shoulders drooped and he sighed. Disappointment clear in his sober gaze, he squeezed her fingers, turning her hand over and brushing a soft kiss to the bare skin of her wrist below the cuff of her light jacket. The damp warmth of his breath sent tingles of heat up her arm.

He released her, stepped back, and opened the lobby door to his hotel. “Promise me you’ll take a cab this time.”

She nodded.

Like a curtain drawing an end to a particularly haunting scene, he disappeared inside.

A crushing sense of loss weighed on her while her mind flashed images like closing credits: The tauntingly sexy cowboy in his bio photograph. The controlling businessman negotiating a deal. The grinning little boy presenting her a steaming chocolate.

She grabbed for the closing door. Tonight was a fantasy. No thinking required. She might be making a colossal mistake, Calamity Jane at her worst, but there was nowhere else she wanted to be at the moment than in Gabe Sutton’s arms.

Chapter Three

Less than five minutes later, Jane found herself sandwiched between Gabe’s big body and the inside of his hotel room door. If this was madness, she gladly joined the ranks of the insane. Outerwear flew willy-nilly. Mouths fused and bodies pressed tightly together; they
ravished
one another. Arching into him, she giggled internally at the mental description.

She wasn’t sexually ignorant, but the frantic mating described in romance novels had always been fantasy as far as she was concerned. Sex was warm and physically enjoyable, but, ultimately, never came close to so many authors’ wildly fictional imaginings.

Until now.

He released her mouth and, with a dip of his knees, feasted his way down her throat to clamp his lips around a distended nipple through the silk of her blouse.

“Bed.” She quivered beneath his hot mouth.

“Bed.”

His hand dove beneath the hem of her skirt to ride her thigh to her hip, then around to mold one cheek of her behind, left naked by her barely-there thong underwear. On a tortured groan, he shuddered as his widespread fingers squeezed her flesh. A storm raged in his eyes. He recaptured her mouth, pulling her flush against him and lifting her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on.

“God, you’re sweet.”

His rumbling murmur bathed her lips while he moved in the direction of the suite’s bedroom.

“I’m hot.” She said the first thing that popped into her head, but it was true. She was burning up!

He stopped. Lowering her to her feet, he chuckled. “Yes, you are.”

Embarrassment and desire combined, flaring through her in waves.

He fingered the squared neckline of her blouse. Eyes darkened by desire twinkled down at her. “And I have no desire to cool you off just yet, but getting you out of this may help.”

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

He chuckled. Without a word, his fingers went to the buttons of her blouse, disbursing three before she found her voice again.

“The truth is, I’ve never done this before, so I’m a little off balance. I say stupid things when I’m off balance.”

His fingers stilled on button number four. Alarm flashed in his eyes. “What do you mean, you’ve never done this before?”

“Oh, no.” She briefly squeezed her eyes shut. “See, that’s exactly my point. I didn’t mean I’ve never had sex.” His tensed shoulders relaxed as she hurriedly added, “What I meant was, I don’t sleep with guys I’ve just met.”

His chest expanded on a deep breath, his nostrils flared and his chin rose a notch. If he thought she’d changed her mind, he didn’t make it easy for her. Guided by his hands, the blouse slid from her shoulders, down over her arms, until her breasts, encased in lace, were exposed.

“I’m humbled you’ve broken your rule for me.” He pushed the slippery material down over her hips, then put his arms around her and flicked open the button at the back of her skirt. The zipper held no challenge for his talented fingers. Skirt and blouse floated to her feet on a whisper. Taking her hand in his, he propelled her forward so she stepped clear of the puddle of silk. “And I promise to handle your trust like the gift it is. We’ll slow this down, if that’s what you need.” His gaze dropped to caress the flesh above the lacy barrier of her bra. “Just, please, don’t change your mind.” His desire-darkened eyes lifted to meet hers. “If you do, you’ll make me cry.”

The smile teasing the corner of his mouth contradicted his claim. She tugged her hand free. Never one to dismiss a dare, which his smile surely was, she crossed her arms, purposefully plumping up her breasts until her flesh threatened to spill from its lacy covering. She smirked when his eyes followed the action.

Take
that
, buster!

His Adam’s apple bobbed on an audible swallow, and the last of her nerves scattered like fallen leaves on a brisk breeze. “I’ll make you a deal.”

He matched her stance, arms crossed; his heated gaze slid up to meet hers. “I’m listening.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.” She jerked her chin in his direction and let her gaze climb from his glossy boots to the Stetson covering his dark hair. “Lose the hat and suit, and I promise not to change my mind.”

The hat flew across the room, ripping a delighted laugh from her. The suit jacket followed. Before it hit the floor, he reached for his tie. She’d never seen a man move so quickly. In less than ten seconds, he dropped to the edge of the bed to pull off his boots, then peeled off dark socks and rose to his bare feet. The socks, along with his dress slacks, joined the heap of clothes on the floor. Tight, dark blue briefs failed to hide his interest in the game.

He stepped close. “Better?”

Oh, yeah
.
And oh my!

She dropped her arms to her sides and stared. Gabe Sutton was drool worthy in a thousand-dollar suit or in those ranch duds he sported in his bio picture, but the body the clothes covered belonged on a canvas. Trim, without an ounce of fat, his limbs were cleanly muscled with understated strength. As for the core of his body…marketing teams would kill to use his wide shoulders, broad chest, tapered waist and rippled abs to sell their products.

“Uh-huh,” was the best she could manage.

He grinned and palmed her neck, massaging the tightened tendons until she wanted to purr. “This is me slowing down. Shall we have a drink?”

The purr rumbled up and out of her throat. Her eyes slid shut on a rush of pleasure, and she rolled her head against the pressure of his magical fingers.

“No drink.” Roughened by desire, his words barely registered in her fevered mind.

Pleasure burst into flame as his mouth returned to hers and flesh met flesh. She wasn’t conscious of movement, wasn’t conscious of anything but the press of his muscled body, of his talented mouth sipping at hers. The cool sheets at her back were her first indication she’d left her feet.

When he broke the kiss, she sighed at the loss and opened her eyes. Her dazed mind wasn’t the least bit curious
why
he was padding across the room to disappear into the bathroom. She simply wanted him to come back. Reality intruded a moment later when he returned from the bathroom with a small box of condoms clutched in his hand.

“I always practice safe sex. Without exception.”

Well, hell. She was glad to see his promise wasn’t just a line, and
one
of them still had the presence of mind to think of safety.

The shadow of reality faded, blocked out like the light of the bedside lamp by his wide shoulders as he lowered his body over hers. She shivered at the contrast of all that heated skin meeting her bare belly and chest. His hair-roughened thigh slid between hers and his fingers, after peeling away her bra, brought a pleasured gasp when the pad of his thumb brushed the puckered tip of one breast. He repeated the caress, and she arched in greedy response.

Capturing her with his mouth, his low growl of encouragement vibrated against the tightened bud. Tongue swirling and shaping her, he nibbled and tasted, then sucked, hard. She cried out in nearly painful pleasure, squirming beneath him, seared by the current of fire racing through her body in a direct route from breast to groin.

Her fingers skimmed over the smooth planes of his muscled back, tracing the bumped ridge of his spine to the taut mounds of his ass. Diving beneath the waistband of his briefs, her fingers flexed. His warm flesh tightened further in response, and her soft groan matched his deeper one.