A Kept Man (5 page)

Jess had planned to be up early the next morning. Instead, the sun
was already high in the sky by the time she opened her eyes. The bed
in the guest room she’d commandeered was more comfortable than
she was used to, and she’d practically passed out the moment
her body touched the mattress. That, plus far too many dreams about
Charlie, had combined to keep her in bed longer than she’d
intended.

She must have been out of her mind last night, Jess thought as she
quickly dressed and padded downstairs in search of food. And
food-deprived. And sleep-deprived. And whatever else had contributed
to that misbegotten encounter in the bathroom last night. It never
should have started, let alone gone as far as it had.

A now familiar heat crept into her cheeks as the memories came
rushing back. Not that they’d ever been far from mind. They’d
replayed in her dreams in a continuous loop, except going further,
carrying the encounter to its natural conclusion.

She shrugged off the images. It wouldn’t happen again. It
couldn’t. She didn’t have time for Charlie’s
shenanigans.

Her resolve took its first hit when she stepped into the kitchen and
found herself staring at Charlie’s bare back.

He was standing at the stove, focused on something whose unbelievable
aroma was already causing her mouth to water. The kitchen island cut
off her view of him below the waist, but the view up above was more
than adequate. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his back muscled,
his hips lean and trim. Male forms didn’t come much more
perfect.

She swallowed a sigh. Maybe her weakness last night hadn’t been
all that insane after all. Maybe it had been the smartest move of her
entire life.

She stared at him for far longer than was necessary. When she
realized what she was doing, she shook her head, as if that could
manage to clear her brain, and straightened her shoulders. The man
might drive her insane, but she wasn’t going down without a
fight.

Her defenses strengthened, she took another step into the kitchen.
She opened her mouth to say good morning, only to notice what the
obstructed view had hidden from sight.

He wasn’t wearing any pants. With the exception of an apron he
had loosely cinched in the back, he was cooking completely bare-ass
naked.

Damn. And she’d thought he looked good in the shorts.

“Good morning.”

He offered the greeting without turning to face her. There was a
thread of amusement in his voice that told her he knew what she was
looking at.

With a concerted effort, she lifted her gaze to his head. He might
not be able to see, but she’d much rather address the back of
his head than other areas. “Don’t you own any clothes?”

“Of course. Sometimes I even wear them.”

“Why aren’t you now?”

“It’s a beautiful day. Warm. Sunny. Who wants to be
covered up on a day like this?”

“Normal people.”

He finally turned away from the stove long enough to grace her with a
beaming smile. “I’m not normal.”

“There’s an understatement.”

He flipped off the burner and carried the pan he’d been
laboring over to the center island. A plate was already set out on
the counter, and Jess watched as he transferred the omelet he’d
prepared onto the dish.

“Besides,” he said, “Felicity likes me to dress
this way.”

“I’m not Felicity.”

His gaze swept over her before returning to the plate he was
preparing. Damned if her skin didn’t tingle. “So I’ve
noticed. Tell me, are you really that much more comfortable with what
you’re wearing than I am?”

Jess ran a self-conscious hand over the T-shirt and sweatpants she’d
pulled on. She hadn’t exactly packed with the intention of
impressing anyone, choosing what she’d usually write in, and
these were the rattiest, most threadbare clothes in her bag.
Wardrobes didn’t come much less sexy than this. Putting them on
this morning had almost been a defiant gesture, daring him to try and
seduce a woman wearing this.

She shrugged. “I’m comfortable.”

“So am I. That’s all that matters, right?”

No, it wasn’t all right. She gritted her teeth to keep her tone
civil. “Except I would be even more comfortable if you weren’t
letting it all hang out. I’m surprised you bothered with the
apron.”

He straightened, holding the plate out to her with a distinctly
amused smile. “Believe me, no man lets it all hang out when
he’s working so close to an open flame.”

Any retort she might have offered was cut off by the sight and
tantalizing aroma of the omelet. Her stomach was already doing flips
in her belly in anticipation.

Still, she forced herself to hold up a hand in denial. “I
usually eat something a little lighter for breakfast. Toast, maybe an
egg.”

“Maybe that’s why you haven’t been able to write.
You’re not eating right. Why not try something different and
see how that works out?”

It made perfect sense when he put it that way. That was exactly what
had gotten her into trouble last night. She eyed him with suspicion.
“Aren’t you L.A. types supposed to be health conscious?”

“Of course. That’s why I used egg whites and the lowest
of lowfat cheeses. And if that’s not good enough for you,
there’s this.” He picked up a nearby bowl and placed it
in front of her, revealing sliced fruit similar to what he’d
offered her last night, except there was no doubt this was fresh.
Strawberries, blueberries and chunks of honeydew filled the bowl to
the rim.

He offered the bowl to her, and it was all she could do not to sigh.
Naked man bearing food. She could certainly see the appeal. He was
too good to be true. Too bad his efforts were wasted on her.

When she still hesitated, Charlie raised his eyebrows at her. “Come
on. Indulge.”

There didn’t seem to be any good reason to refuse, so she
accepted both dishes from him. Aware she was coming across as
ungrateful, she told him, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

His smile deepened. The dimple made another appearance. “That’s
all that matters.”

She hated to burst his bubble, but it seemed necessary. This couldn’t
continue. “But you really don’t have to go to all this
trouble,” she said, moving to sit at the circular kitchen table
a few feet away. “I’m used to making do with a much less
fuss.”

“And you shouldn’t have to. You worry about your book,
I’ll worry about the menu. Deal?”

She couldn’t answer. She was too busy savoring her first bite
of the omelet. Soft cheese and tangy vegetables melted on her tongue.
“Oh my god, this is amazing.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“I do—” She looked up to find him coming around the
island, his hand moving behind his back to untie the apron. She poked
her fork at him. “You lose that apron and you will need to find
a new place to stay.”

He gave her a supremely put-upon look, but his hand fell back to his
side, the apron remaining in place. He lowered himself to the chair
opposite hers, and she breathed a sign of relief. The tabletop was
glass and there was no cloth covering it. If he’d ditched the
apron, she would have been able to see everything. She was seeing far
too much skin as it was.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, and
watched her eat. “You can’t tell me you’ve never
eaten with a naked man before. Didn’t you spend some time with
some indigenous tribes in the Amazon? I can’t imagine they were
concerned with modesty.”

“That was different. Nudity was natural to their culture.”

“Who’s to say it isn’t to mine?”

“And what culture would that be? The Hollywood gigolo culture?”

“Ouch.” He feigned pulling a dagger from his heart. “You
really disapprove of me, don’t you?”

Jess swallowed a bite of strawberries so sweet they could have been
picked that morning. “I’m sorry. It’s really not my
place to judge.”

Charlie shrugged lightly. “That’s all right. Not
everything is going to work for everyone the same way. You’re
uptight about your sexuality. I get it.”

“What?” She almost choked on the omelet. “I am
not!”

“It’s okay. I’m not judging. Many people are. It’s
probably a product of your upbringing.”

“My upbringing was fine, thank you. Just because I don’t
live a hedonistic existence doesn’t mean I’m uptight.”

“Is that what you think I’m living? ‘A hedonistic
existence?’” He dragged the words out into a long drawl
that sounded supremely amused.

“You don’t?” she challenged.

“What if I am?” he turned the question back on her.
“What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with wanting
to live your life experiencing as much pleasure as possible?”

“There’s so much more to life, to the world. If all
you’re interested in is the pursuit of pleasure, you’re
going to miss out on so much.”

“Really? Tell me, Jess. I bet you’ve spent you’re
entire life doing the right thing, the serious thing, never allowing
yourself to get sidetracked by a moment of sensual pleasure. How’s
that worked out for you?”

She couldn’t help it. She flinched. He couldn’t know what
he was talking about. Indeed, she saw the surprise flash across his
face at her reaction. But purposely or not, he’d managed to hit
a nerve.

She had spent her whole life single-mindedly pursuing her career
goals, doing the right thing, working hard. And where had it gotten
her? With a few good friends, but also far too many who’d been
willing to doubt her when she needed them most. Without her job,
struggling to start over again. Thirty-three years of drive and
focus, and it had all blown up in her face because she’d
trusted the wrong man.

Jess slowly set her fork down, half of her omelet untouched. She
pushed away from the table. “I think I’m done.”

He was on his feet before she was. “Jess, I’m sorry—”

She waved him off without meeting his eyes. “Don’t be.
You just reminded me. I need to get back to work and start getting my
experiences down.”

“I put your computer in Felicity’s office. It’s the
second door on the right upstairs.”

“Thank you.” She took the long way around the table to
avoid brushing by him. His words had had the opposite of their
intended effect. He’d reminded her exactly why she couldn’t
indulge in some kind of hedonistic vacation. She didn’t have
time for Charlie and his nonsense. If she had any hope of reclaiming
her career and her reputation, she needed to get to work. It was too
important.

Her laptop was waiting exactly where he’d promised, sitting
right in the middle of the desk. He’d even plugged it in. All
she needed to do was power it up. Her notebooks were stacked in a
neat pile right next to the computer. Everything was set for her to
get right to work.

It was nice of him to go to all the trouble, but she still couldn’t
keep the frown from her face. She was letting the man take far too
many liberties. He’d also put all of her clothes away in the
bedroom closet and drawers while she was in the bath last night. As
long as she let him wait on her hand and foot the way he clearly did
Felicity, the longer he’d be thinking she wanted everything
else he gave Felicity. She was going to have to put her foot down.

In the meantime, she was in no mood to go back downstairs and face
him. She closed the office door behind herself and moved to the desk.

There was a phone sitting on the far edge. As soon as she saw it, she
realized she should call her agent and let him know she’d
arrived all right. He’d been more than patient with her
writer’s block, never revealing any nervousness or doubt during
their conversations on the phone. Still, she knew he had to be
concerned. She wouldn’t mind delaying the call, but putting off
writing held more appeal at the moment. She reached for the receiver.

“How’s that blockbuster coming?”

Lorne’s voice boomed through the phone, and Jess pulled the
receiver away from her ear even as she smiled. Lorne was a garrulous
man, a born salesman, a shark or a pussycat depending on what the
situation called for. He’d chosen his profession well.

“Great,” she lied blithely. “The change in scenery
is exactly what I needed.”

“Didn’t you just get there yesterday?”

She should have known better than try to get that past him. “That’s
how effective it’s been. I can’t keep my hands off the
keyboard.”

“So you’re going to meet your deadline?”

This time she hesitated. “I have every intention of having the
manuscript in on time,” she hedged.

The pause hadn’t lasted longer than two seconds. The similar
resounding silence that met her ears told her Lorne hadn’t
missed it.

“I’m glad to hear that, kiddo,” he said finally,
his voice gentler. “I know you can do it.”

Jess knew it was Lorne’s job to be a cheerleader when the
situation called for it, but she didn’t doubt his sincerity.
He’d managed to sell the book on the strength of her name,
three chapters and an outline, sparking a bidding war that resulted
in an advance that was more than she’d ever expected. He’d
been almost more excited about the project than she’d been. His
belief had meant a lot at a time when her confidence had been
particularly shaky.

Just one more person she’d be letting down if she didn’t
finish the book in time.

“I won’t let you down, Lorne.” To her ears the
words sounded more like a promise to herself than to him.

She quickly ended the call and stood at the window, trying to put her
thoughts in order. It was so easy to know what she wanted to say, so
much harder to try to find the words.

Still not ready to sit and face her computer, she turned to stand at
the window. It looked out on the pool area below. The desk was
situated flat against the wall, facing the window. It didn’t
seem like the smartest choice. If she’d been arranging the
room, she would have faced the desk away from the window. It would be
too easy to get lost in the view of the gently undulating waters and
lush greenery. Too distracting. She could have stared at the peaceful
scene all day.