Cinderella and the Playboy (6 page)

Jennifer welcomed the instant rise of desire that swept over her, erasing all thought of tomorrow. There was only this moment and the heavy, powerfully muscled body on hers as Chance’s fierce passion carried her over the edge once again.

Jennifer was half-awake the following morning when Chance left the bed. He bent over, kissed her, chuckled and with a pat on her bottom covered by the sheet, left her to disappear into the bathroom. She smiled, half opening her eyes and noting the bright sunshine pouring through the open drapes. Then she yawned and rolled over.

It seemed like only a moment before Chance came back into the bedroom, several pieces of clothing tossed over his arm.

“Hey, sleepy woman, wake up! I promised you crepes for breakfast.” He tossed the clothes on the end of the bed. “My mother left some things in the guest room the last time she was here,” he told her,
dropping onto the bed to stretch out beside her. “The slacks might be a little short but they’re bound to fit better than a pair of my jeans.”

The bed dipped under his weight, rolling Jennifer toward him. He grinned and caught her, tugging the sheet lower until she was bare from her tousled hair to her belly button.

Chance’s head bent and he trailed his lips over the upper curve of her breasts. “Mmm,” he muttered. “You taste as good as you look.”

Jennifer buried her fingers in the silky thickness of his hair, cradling his head to hold him close as her eyelids drifted closed.

“If we’re going out, I have to shower and get dressed,” she protested drowsily, smiling as he growled in protest. She closed her fingers into fists and tugged his hair, the strands sliding like rough black silk against her fingertips and palms.

Reluctantly, he obeyed her silent demand and lifted his head to look down at her. “We could skip going out and order in—eat Chinese food in bed,” he suggested.

“No.” She laughed softly. “I’m starving and those chocolate crepes sound wonderful.” And she wanted to see a bit more of the pieces of his day-to-day life. The need to know him better, to learn more about the man behind the handsome face and powerful male
body, grew stronger with each moment she spent in his company.

“All right,” he grumbled good-naturedly, his hands trailing over her midriff as he rolled onto his side, releasing her so she could slide out of bed. “We’ll take Butch for a walk and get brunch at the café. Then we’ll come back and pick up where we’re leaving off. Deal?”

“Deal.” She flashed him a sassy grin, caught up the pile of clothing from the foot of the bed and slipped into the bathroom. For a moment, she leaned back against the door, eyes closed, a smile on her lips while she reveled in the sheer happiness bubbling through her veins.

A half hour later, Jennifer had showered, pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, smoothed on the lipstick and mascara she’d tucked into her evening bag the night before, and was dressed. She paused to run a quick, assessing glance over her reflection in the long mirrors bracketing the door.

The pale pink silk slacks fit well except for being a trifle short in the leg, the hem hitting her at her anklebone.
Which is actually a good thing,
she thought, since if the designer label slacks had been longer, she would have surely tripped over them while wearing the strappy red heels. The white silk tank top was snug and since she didn’t have a bra to wear, she’d
pulled on a clean white shirt from Chance’s closet. It was much too big, of course, but after rolling the sleeves to her elbow, she decided it worked well enough to conceal her braless state.

In fact, she thought, turning to look over her shoulder at her back view, the outfit was rather chic. The slim-cut slacks hugged her thighs below the hem of the loose white shirt, and the red heels added a touch of Vogue-model fashion to the outfit.

Thanks to Chance’s mother leaving clothes in his guestroom, Jennifer reflected, she was reasonably covered. She’d had a few qualms about the clothing, suspecting it might have really belonged to one of Chance’s girlfriends. But the silk slacks and tank top had a small label with “A. Demetrios” beautifully embroidered in blue and gold thread. Chance had mentioned his parents, John and Anastasia, and Jennifer was confident the “A. Demetrios” was surely his mother.

She left the bathroom, a spring to her step, and went searching for Chance. She found him in the kitchen, reading a newspaper spread out over the island countertop.

“Hey.” He looked up when she entered, his eyes lighting up as he swept her from head to toe and back again.

“Hi.” Suddenly self-conscious under his intent
stare, she glanced down. “I’m glad your mother left her slacks and top here. Are you sure she won’t mind my borrowing them?”

“I’m positive,” he told her, abandoning the paper on the counter. He reached her in two long strides and wrapped her close, pressing a quick, hard kiss against her mouth. When he lifted his lips from hers, his eyes were molten. “And if we don’t leave the house right now, I’m going to carry you back upstairs. Come on. Let’s feed you. You’re going to need energy when we get home.”

He released her, threaded her fingers through his, and tugged her after him toward the front door.

“Come on, Butch.”

The big dog obeyed Chance’s command with enthusiasm, pushing past them to race down the hall and wait just inside the front door.

Chance took a leash from a peg on the antique coatrack and clipped it onto Butch’s collar, then pulled open the heavy oak door.

Jennifer stepped outside, relishing the balmy air and the quick warmth of sunlight on her bare forearms.

Chance locked the door behind them, pocketing the keys before catching Jennifer’s hand in his, and with Butch leading the way at the end of the leash, they set off down the street.

“I love your neighborhood,” Jennifer told him, taking in the neat facades of town houses and bright flowers filling window boxes. She tilted her face up and spring sunshine warmed her cheeks, filtered through tree leaves.

“Good morning.”

The friendly greeting drew Jennifer’s attention and she smiled hello at the young couple passing by, pushing a stroller with a little boy that babbled excitedly, hands outstretched to Butch.

“Good morning.” Chance nodded at the couple, letting the little boy pat Butch on the nose, then pulling the big dog away before he could lick the toddler’s face.

“Who was that?” Jennifer asked, curious.

“The Carmichaels.” Chance expertly steered Butch around a trio of giggling schoolgirls in jeans and sandals walking toward them, three abreast on the sidewalk. “They moved into the house two doors down from me just before their little boy was born. I met them when I was out walking Butch.”

“Butch seems to be a great ice breaker,” Jennifer commented. “You must meet a lot of people when they stop to pet him.”

“Yeah, I do.” He grinned at her and tugged her nearer, releasing her hand to sling an arm over her
shoulder and tuck her close. Their hips bumped companionably as they walked. “Nobody can resist a big, friendly dog.”

Jennifer privately thought it was probably the combination of Butch’s friendliness and Chance’s charm.

“Here we are.” Chance drew Jennifer to a halt outside a small restaurant. “Do you mind sitting outside? I can’t take Butch inside.”

He nodded at the area to their right. Several round wrought-iron tables with colorful red and white umbrellas shading their chairs were clustered along the front of the café, the uneven line two tables deep. Just then a patron exited, the café’s open door releasing a waft of aroma that was mouthwatering.

“Yes, let’s.” Jennifer drew in a deep breath. “It smells fabulous. I can’t believe anyone has the will-power to walk by and not stop to eat.”

Chance bent to brush his lips against her ear. “The food’s great but it doesn’t taste as good as you.”

Jennifer shivered with awareness and felt her skin warm.

His arm tightened in a brief hug before he released her and pulled out a chair at an empty table at one end of the row.

He knotted Butch’s leash around the arm of a chair. “Stay,” he told him as he dropped into the seat.

Butch obligingly lay down between Chance and Jennifer, technically outside the dining area. Ears perked, eyes alight with interest, he watched the diners at the neighboring tables.

The cute young waitress who took their order clearly adored Chance.

“You have another admirer,” Jennifer teased as the teenager disappeared into the restaurant.

“Carrie?” he asked. When Jennifer nodded, he grinned at her. “Nah, I’m helping her brother study for his SATs, that’s all. He’s a bright kid but the family doesn’t have the money to send him to a topnotch med school. If he scores high on the SAT, he’ll have a better shot at scholarships.”

“What a lovely thing for you to do,” she told him. “You’re a surprise, Dr. Demetrios.”

“Why?” he asked, resting his forearms on the tabletop and leaning forward, his gaze searching hers.

“Because you have a reputation as a playboy, which infers you’re shallow. But the more I get to know you, the more complicated you seem.”

He smiled, a slow upward curve of his lips. “I’m not complicated,” he murmured, his voice husky with need. “At the moment, I’ve got only a single interest.”

“And what would that be?” she asked, mesmer
ized by the heat in his eyes and the sensual curve of his mouth.

“You.” He closed the few inches between them and covered her mouth with his.

The kiss was sweet, slow and filled with heat. Jennifer felt her toes curl as desire moved like languid fire through he veins.

“Um, excuse me.” The hesitant female voice had Chance lifting his head.

“Ah, coffee.” He sat back to give the waitress room to empty her tray, setting steaming coffee cups in front of them and a carafe in the center of the table. “Thanks.”

The fresh-faced teenager smiled shyly in response and whisked away.

Jennifer was disoriented and slightly dizzy from the kiss, while Chance appeared to have gone from arousal to casual friendliness in a matter of seconds.

Determined to match his seemingly unflappable coolness, she sipped her coffee, eyeing him over the rim while she scrambled for casual conversation.

“Did you grow up here in Boston?” she asked, settling for a standard, getting-to-know-you topic.

“No.” He shook his head. “I spent my childhood in upstate New York. I moved here when I took the job at the Armstrong Institute. What about you—did you grow up in Boston?”

“No, I lived in a small town in Illinois until I moved here last year.”

“What made you choose Boston?”

“I had a friend from high school who moved here. She encouraged me to join her. She loved the city, especially all the American historical sites. We used to visit a national historical treasure nearly every weekend.”

“Used to? Why did you stop?”

Jennifer shrugged. “Renee met the man of her dreams and it was love at first sight. They married after dating for three weeks and have been traveling the world ever since. He’s an archeologist and they’re currently living in Central America while he helps excavate a Mayan temple.”

“No kidding?” Chance looked intrigued. “Now there’s a job that sounds interesting.”

Jennifer laughed. “Every guy who hears about Renee’s husband’s job says that. There must be a frustrated adventurer hidden in every male on the planet.”

“Maybe.” He grinned.

The waitress arrived with their food, interrupting their conversation. Jennifer indulged in crepes drizzled with chocolate sauce while Chance tucked into a Spanish omelet. By the time they’d finished eating
and had poured a second round of coffee, they were deep in a discussion of movies they’d seen.

“You like chick flicks,” Chance told her. “Most of the movies on your best-of list are romantic comedies.”

“I liked the movie
Hunt For Red October
and that’s not a chick flick,” Jennifer protested.

“No kidding—you like that movie?” He lifted his brows in surprise. “I’ve seen it about a dozen times.”

“Me, too.” Jennifer sipped her coffee. “Of course,” she added, “the film’s stars are Sean Connery and a young Alec Baldwin. To be honest, I’d be tempted to watch it over again just to see them.”

“So the big attraction isn’t the incredible underwater sub maneuvers or the great suspense plot, it’s the handsome actors?”

She considered the question, eyes narrowed, before nodding firmly. “Pretty much.”

Chance’s face lit with amusement, his deep, rich laughter drawing the attention of nearby diners.

Jennifer suspected her smile was besotted but she couldn’t help it. The sunlight gleamed in his black hair, laugh lines fanning at the corners of his eyes.

His gaze met his and his laughter died.

“Let’s go home,” he said roughly, the curve of his mouth sensual.

“Yes,” she breathed, caught up in the heat that flared between them. “Let’s.”

Jennifer woke slowly, stretching and smiling contentedly at the warmth against her back. A weight lay over her waist, anchoring her to the hard male body she lay tucked against and she realized Chance was curled around her, his arm holding her close.

There was a great deal to like about waking up with a man, she thought with a smile.

She opened her eyes. Just beyond the edge of the white sheet-covered mattress was the oak nightstand with a brass clock, its numbers glowing in the dim bedroom.

Her eyes widened. It was almost four o’clock. And Linda had promised to return Annie to the apartment by 6:00 p.m.

Her weekend was over.

She wasn’t ready to let it go. She’d lost track of the number of times they’d made love and yet she wanted more. But reality intruded and she bit her lip, knowing she had no choice.

Carefully, she lifted Chance’s arm and slipped out from beneath his hold. He muttered, protesting, and she froze beside the bed, holding her breath and
hoping he wouldn’t waken. Then he shifted, sprawling on his stomach over the place where she’d lain moments before. His eyes remained closed and the tension eased out of his big body as he relaxed, clearly asleep again.