Can't Get Enough of You (10 page)

She giggled, imagining his face when she handed him a check for both their tickets.

“Friday.” Lenna was in for a huge surprise! Jenna hugged herself in delight. She couldn't wait.

J
enna's jaw dropped when their limousine stopped beside the private jet waiting on the tarmac. She watched as steps were lowered and a smiling, uniformed flight attendant waited in the open doorway.

“What's going on, Scott? Tell me you didn't hire a private plane to take us to Las Vegas. I'm supposed to pay for this trip. And this is way out of my price range.”

She'd been proud of herself for not making a comment when he'd arrived at her place in a chauffeur-driven limousine. But now he'd gone too far.

Scott didn't wait for the driver to do the honors. He hopped out of the car and held a hand out to her.

Annoyed, she tucked her handbag beneath her arm and got out without assistance. “You didn't answer my question. How much is this trip going to cost me? Do I need to put my house on the market?”

“Very funny, Jenna. The airplane's not going to cost you a dime. A friend of mine, Ralph Prescott, owns a fleet of private jets. It's a favor to me.”

“Some favor. What do you have to do to pay him back?”

Scott chuckled, “Nothing. Friends help each other out.”

“And he just happened to have a jet doing nothing?”

“Ralph's not the issue. Come on. The driver's waiting for us to board so he can carry on our luggage.” He placed his hand on the small of her back.

Jenna frowned at the way she was dressed in simple black slacks and a black ruffled blouse, which she'd teamed with a collarless leather jacket, belt, and a small brimmed hat, all in yellow. Her only jewelry was a pair of large, gold hoop earrings. Nothing fancy—a work outfit. But deep down, she knew that clothes weren't the real issue. The culprit was being with Scott and having the vast difference in their lifestyles thrown in her face.

“Jenna?”

“What?” she asked as she mounted the stairs to the beautifully appointed jet, done in rich bronze tones with lush cream leather armchairs and a gleaming galley.

The pretty flight attendant greeted them by name.

Forcing a smile, Jenna nodded politely.

“What is wrong? Why are you letting this bother you? You'll be seeing your sister in a few hours. That's all you should be concerned about,” Scott said close to her ear.

Jenna silently sank into one of the plush armchairs and watched as Scott took the seat beside her. A desk had been built into one corner, and a flat-screen television was mounted on the wall. It looked like a tastefully decorated study, with its plush leather armchairs and marble-topped tables. Glancing around, she couldn't help wondering if the rear door led into a private bedroom and bath. Naturally, she'd heard of such opulence; she just hadn't experienced it.

Clasping shaking hands in her lap, she decided he was right. She had no reason to be upset. Scott's jet-setting lifestyle had nothing to do with her. He'd lived beyond her reach for a long time. Having it blatantly pointed out shouldn't hurt. So why was she smarting?

Struggling to regain her equilibrium, Jenna admitted it really didn't matter that they were taking a private jet to Las Vegas. Scott was right. She would see her twin sister in a few short hours, and that was what was important. She needed to keep her priorities straight.

“Welcome to Prescott Air. My name is Joan. Please let me know if you need anything before we take off. Ms. Gaines? Mr. Hendricks? Would you care for something to read?”

Jenna was presented with an array of popular magazines. Deciding she needed a distraction, she picked out the new issue of
Vogue
magazine.

Just then the pilot, Anthony Watts, came out. Scott had evidently flown with him before and quickly made the introductions. After describing the altitude at which they would be flying, the weather conditions, and the approximate time they would reach Las Vegas, Captain Watts asked if they had any questions. Then he wished them a good flight and returned to the cockpit.

“I can't get over all this.” Jenna's hands fluttered restlessly.

“Are you afraid of flying in a smaller plane?”

Jenna lifted her shoulders helplessly. “There's nothing small about this Learjet.”

Soon the seat belt sign was turned on, and they were buckled in as they taxied along the runway.

“Talk to me, Jenna.”

“I've never liked flying,” she confessed. “When we were poor college students, we didn't have many opportunities to fly.” She laughed. “You used to pick me up from my late-night class in a beat-up old car.”

Back then they hadn't had secrets. They'd talked about everything. They'd truly been friends as well as lovers.

“That was a long time ago. At the time it didn't feel like a hardship.” He chuckled. “It's a wonder we went anywhere, considering the shape that old Camaro was in.”

“We were young and in love. Everything was fun. But to answer your question, I'm a much better flyer now, even though I still don't enjoy the takeoffs.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I've got butterflies.”

Scott reached out and clasped her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You really don't have anything to worry about. Prescott Air has a great safety record.”

She nodded, a bit uneasy. “I'll take your word for that, even if I know you're only trying to get me to relax.”

“How am I doing?” he teased, moving his thumb over the back of her hand.

“No complaints,” she smiled. She couldn't help being conscious of the touch of his hand and the scent of his teakwood body. His aftershave was a heady mixture of sandalwood and a hint of vanilla along with his clean male skin.

“Good.”

Once they were in the air and the plane had leveled off, the flight attendant unsnapped her seat belt. She asked, “Ms. Gaines, would you care for something to drink? You have your pick of soft drinks, a selection of cocktails, wine, and champagne.”

Jenna glanced at Scott, suddenly realizing she was still holding his hand. Quickly releasing his fingers, she said, “Yes, thank you. I'd like some iced tea, if you have it.”

“Of course. Mr. Hendricks?”

“Vernors, please.”

“Coming right up,” the flight attendant said with a smile before disappearing into a small galley kitchen.

“Champagne?” Jenna laughed. “I could get used to this. Are they going to serve us dinner, too?”

“Whatever your heart desires.” He grinned, leaning back in his seat and crossing his long legs at the ankles.

“I think I'll pass on dinner. I'm too nervous to eat. I keep wondering if this Leah Bennett is really my sister. The pictures are remarkable.”

“Try to relax. You'll have your answer soon.”

“That's easier said than done. Despite my best efforts, I can't seem to relax. Maybe I should have ordered a drink.”

“Hoping for a bit of liquid courage?” he teased.

“It can't hurt.” Then she said seriously, “I won't be able to calm down until I know one way or the other if she's my twin.”

He ran a gentle finger down her soft cheek. “You already know the answer, babe. How can Leah Bennett be anyone else but your sister? I'd be shocked if she wasn't.”

She shrugged. “I'm trying not to get my hopes up. I don't want to be disappointed. I've waited so long for this.” She looked pointedly at him. “Let's talk about something else . . . anything.”

Just then Joan returned with their drinks. She placed them on the small polished table between their seats, then returned with a silver tray of finger sandwiches and petits fours.

Jenna had meant it when she'd said her stomach was a bit uneasy. She shook her head. Once they were alone again, she crossed her legs and began flipping through the fashion magazine. Unable to concentrate, she watched as Scott munched on a cracker piled with cheese and cold cuts.

“Good?”

“It should hold me until dinner.” After taking a sip of his drink, he said, “I wish you could relax.”

“This is about as relaxed as I'm likely to get. You're used to this kind of opulence.” She gestured wildly.

“I wouldn't say I'm used to it. If you're asking if I've been on private planes before, then the answer is yes. And I've had my share of limousine rides, slept in costly hotels . . . that kind of thing.”

“Does that include wild parties, drugs, and women throwing themselves at you?” she blurted out.

Ten

H
e looked pointedly at her. “No, Jenna. I've never been into drugs or wild partying. I'm no saint. But money has nothing to do with it.”

“Scott, I'm not stupid. How can you say having money hasn't changed you?”

“Expensive toys don't make the man or woman. I'm still the same guy you met more than ten years ago on campus. I wasn't into drugs or partying back then. Yes, I don't have to worry about money, but I'm still Virgina and George Hendricks's son. I want the same things out of life that I wanted back when we first fell in love.” He paused, touched by her interest, then said, “I'm flattered that you're curious about my life over the years.”

“You're grinning,” she accused.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his jaw.

Jenna looked down, as if suddenly fascinated by her fingernails. “I didn't intend to pry. Maybe I'm interested because your life has been very different from mine. While I was poor and studying, you were living in the lap of luxury.”

“Not that different. I suppose I did my share of clubbing when I first was drafted. I enjoyed being able to afford nice things, cars, clothes, and that kind of stuff. And yes, I enjoyed the female attention fame brought me, but I've never taken it to heart. You see, I've always known it was the money and lifestyle they were attracted to, not me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because it's true. The women I dated weren't genuinely interested in getting to know me. And that was okay, because I wasn't ready to settle down. I've gone out with all kinds of women, successful in their own fields . . . actresses, models, and businesswomen.” He shrugged. “I've always known I wasn't the attraction.”

He took a long swallow of his drink before he said, “Having been in a relationship that ended in disappointment, I didn't want to go down that same road. Yet I've grown tired of the carefree lifestyle with an endless string of the same type of women. So I moved on to more important things.”

“Such as . . .” she prompted.

“Such as family. I regret not keeping my promise to get my degree. I took classes during the off-seasons but never put forth the effort needed to get the job done.” He hesitated before he said candidly, “I hit a rough patch when I first retired from the game, and I moved back to Detroit. Did some heavy drinking and scared my sister a bit before I got myself back on track.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“You know why.”

Jenna shook her head. “I don't.”

He sighed and picked up another cracker piled high with cheese. He took his time eating it. Finally he swallowed, then answered, “You know. You just don't want to talk about it.” At the continued shake of her head, he revealed, “I want you back in my life, sweet thing.”

She surprised him when she asked, “Haven't you forgotten something? I was the one who broke up with you. I broke your heart.” She tapped his chin with a slender finger. “So why are you smiling? It isn't funny.”

“I'm smiling because I can. Yes, you broke my heart, but I'm aware of the fact I also broke yours, as well as disappointed you. We were both young and did a fine job of making each other miserable. But we survived it. For that I'm glad. And we can even talk about it.”

“It only took nearly eleven years,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, that's true. But when I look at you, I see a successful woman who is real, genuine, and very special. Jenna, when you love, you give it your all. I miss that . . . I miss you.” He leaned forward before he asked, “I know I promised not to push, but have you thought about us?”

She shook her head. “I've tried my best not to think about the two of us and the mistakes we made. I'm not like you. I don't want to repeat past mistakes. It hurts too much.”

“That's not fair. You gave us no more than, what, half of a second's worth of thought?” he quipped.

Just then a soft bell chimed and the pilot's voice came over the speakers. They were approaching Las Vegas's McCarran International Airport and would be landing soon.

Jenna worried her bottom lip while quickly fastening her seat belt. “Now isn't the best time to talk about this.”

With his seat belt secure, he nodded. “You're right. You've enough on your mind with seeing your twin sister again.” He reminded himself to slow it down . . . to just relax and simply enjoy being with her. This trip was not about him or his needs. This was for Jenna and getting her family back. He wanted it for her. She deserved that and so much more.

Yet her closeness challenged his resolve. Scott was no saint. He couldn't stop himself from wanting her. He'd limited himself to occasional touches and kisses. More than that was up to her. Aware of her vulnerability, he had to be careful not to take advantage of her. Jenna's happiness mattered to him above all.

Jenna stared out the window, studying the landscape below, then she met his gaze. “Scott, I wasn't being flippant or callous, but I know . . .” She stopped abruptly when he brushed his lips over hers.

“Let's agree to leave it for now without any qualifiers.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't think you know how you really feel about me. You've been too busy avoiding the subject.”

When she would have voiced her objections, he kissed her again. This time it was a deep, hungry kiss. The slow flick of his tongue was a tantalizing reminder of what they'd once enjoyed. They were both breathing hard by the time the jolt of the jet's wheels touching down separated them.

A
larmed by the potency of that sizzling-hot kiss, Jenna didn't dare look at him. She returned her gaze to the sparkling lights rushing past. When the plane finally rolled to a stop beside an empty hangar, a limousine stood waiting nearby.

“You arranged for a car to take us to the hotel?”

“Mmm. Ready?” He released his seat belt.

“Yes.” Suddenly she began wondering about their hotel arrangements.

“How are you holding up?”

The question immediately reminded her why they were together. She didn't bother to object when Scott helped her with her jacket.

After thanking and saying good-bye to their flight crew, Jenna was rushed along to their limousine.

“Nervous?” The inquiry broke the silence as the car was soon caught up in the evening traffic.

“I can't say that I'm nervous like I was when I met my brother, but I'm excited. I can't help wondering how she'll react when she sees me. It's been a long time coming, and I feel as if a part of me has been missing . . . an essential part that no one else knows is gone. Does that sound crazy?”

“Makes sense to me. Have you ever been to Las Vegas before?”

“No, this is my first time. How about you?”

“Many times.”

When he smiled but didn't elaborate, Jenna almost questioned him, but she caught herself in time. What he'd done in Las Vegas or anywhere else wasn't her concern. What was she thinking? They'd lived separate lives. The fact that she was even curious was downright annoying. She'd shown too much interest in his love life. So what if he'd traveled the world with beautiful, glamorous women? She might not like hearing about his involvements. Besides, it had nothing to do with her.

Their sole reason for being together was to find her sister. As long as she kept that thought in mind and didn't let him back into her life in any meaningful way, she would be fine. She must remember that this trip wasn't about the two of them.

“You're awfully quiet,” Scott mused as the limousine eased to a stop in the luxury hotel's impressive curved drive.

“I'm fine,” Jenna said, a bit too quickly. “I hope it doesn't take too long to check into our rooms. I'm anxious to see Lenna.”

“All the doubts behind you?” he asked as he got out of the car.

“Pretty much,” she replied absently, taking his hand to let him help her out. Once their luggage had been handed to the hotel's bellman, Scott casually tipped the limousine driver before he urged her into the well-lit lobby of the impressive hotel.

Her first thought was that she couldn't afford to stay here. Perhaps she should have discussed her budget with Scott? Fortunately for him, he no longer had to be concerned about money. No, she suddenly decided that she wasn't going to worry about anything either. She was here in Las Vegas to locate her sister. So what if she had to exceed her budget along the way? It didn't matter, because her goal was to locate Lenna. She'd have to make arrangements to pay him back later.

Jenna noted that Scott was greeted by name. There was no delay at the check-in desk. They were escorted through the elaborately decorated lobby to a bank of glass elevators, where they were whisked up to one of the top floor's penthouse suites.

As Jenna stood in the center of the luxuriously furnished living room of a two-bedroom suite, she muttered to herself, “Go with the flow.” She looked around in utter disbelief. She'd planned to pay him for the traveling expenses. How? She'd have to cash in her 401(k) to cover the cost of this trip. This was no two-hundred-a-night hotel room! It was more like ten thousand a night, and that didn't include the private jet or the limousine service.

“What? Not going to check out your bedroom? Make sure it's okay?” Scott stood near the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked twinkling lights and lush hotel grounds.

She confessed, “I didn't expect anything this lavish.”

“It's only for the weekend. Think of it as a mini-vacation.” He waited, as if expecting more protests.

She forced a smile. “Excuse me while I get freshened up. I'll only be a few minutes.” Carrying her jacket and purse, she headed to the open bedroom where her luggage had been placed.

“Take your time. According to Mr. Collagen's report, Lenna or Leah Bennett should be working at the Starlight Lounge tonight. Are you hungry? Would you like me to order something to eat?”

“You go ahead. I'm too nervous to eat.”

“Sweet love, you didn't eat anything on the plane. How about a grilled turkey and cheese sandwich? Is it still your favorite?”

She stopped so suddenly that she nearly tripped on the lush carpet. The tender endearment caused her breath to catch in her throat. It brought back memories . . . detailed, intimate moments of a time best forgotten. Alarmed by her emotional reaction, she had to struggle to maintain her composure.

“That will be fine. Thanks,” she said shakily.

She couldn't breathe easily until the bedroom door was closed behind her. On trembling legs, she sank onto the end of the queen-size bed, grateful for the support. It was too much, all of it: the opulence of the trip, the prospect of seeing her twin, and now the bittersweet memories of when they were lovers came rushing back. Shakened, Jenna simply sat watching the desert sun set in the distance.

“I don't want to go back,” she whispered.

It would have been easier to cope if the memories had all been bad. Unfortunately, some were so sweet and achingly tender that they brought back a wealth of emotions. Emotions she preferred to remain locked away forever. It hurt recalling the good times. She didn't want to remember the sweet magic of being in Scott's arms . . . being on the receiving end of his hot, hungry kisses and intense lovemaking.

“I won't do it!” she muttered aloud, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

It had taken years to learn how to push away those memories. Why now? None of it mattered anymore! What she needed was a few minutes to calm down. Her focus should be on what she'd come here to do . . . find her twin sister. So what if she was caught up in Scott's world? It wouldn't last beyond the weekend. His life had nothing to do with hers. Their connection wouldn't extend beyond the loose boundaries of friendship.

With that settled, she collected her toiletries and went into the connecting bathroom. “No worries,” she repeated as she took care of the necessities. Learning the details of his life didn't mean she was softening toward him.

She wasn't reckless enough to dismiss the way he'd hurt her or welcome him back for more of the same. She was no longer the naïve twenty-year-old who had fallen in love with the campus basketball player. She was a career woman who had her priorities straight and clear goals that couldn't be swayed by a fancy trip into fantasy land.

J
enna had thought she was prepared for the loud music blaring from the sound system, the dim lights, the overdone glitz of the club's interior—which leaned more toward sleaze than glamour in her estimation—but she'd been wrong.

Even though she wasn't the only woman seated at the small tables, she was extremely uncomfortable. The room wasn't packed, but there was a sizeable number of men surrounding the well-lit stage. All eyes were on the nearly nude woman gyrating around in a pair of glittery panties and stilettos.

She reminded herself that she wasn't there to judge. Yet she couldn't help feeling relieved that it wasn't her twin up there topless. Bored by the dancing, she looked around, noting that there weren't any clocks mounted on the walls, not even near the bar. Thankful that she wasn't on her own, she wondered what Scott was thinking. He looked as bored as she was. To his credit, he'd suggested she might be more comfortable waiting in the limousine or the lobby, but she'd refused, insisting that if Lenna could put up with it, so could she.