Heat It Up (4 page)

Relief coursed through her, but the uncomfortable subject pretty much killed the mood.

And reminded her that they were still in the elevator. An elevator, which, now that she thought about it, probably had a camera pointed right at them.

The thought brought a sharp laugh to her lips. “Damn.”

Becker arched a brow. “I think it’s too late for second thoughts,” he said dryly.

“No, it’s not that. I just realized there might be a camera in here.”

“Shit, I didn’t think about that.”

With a sigh, Jane reached for her purse. “Well, if there is one, then the person manning it just got one hot show.”

Becker gave a wry smile. “Yup.”

She pulled out a small pack of tissues and quickly cleaned herself up, while Becker put on his shirt, zipped up his jeans and got to his feet. He was just reaching for the intercom button when the lights flickered. The numbers on the elevator pad lit up all at once, and then a low hum filled the car. A moment later, the elevator started to move.

Jane quickly rearranged her panties and whipped on her camisole. She was sliding her arms into the sleeves of her jacket when the elevator doors dinged open to reveal the brightly lit lobby of the medical center. A man in a brown jumpsuit waited there, an apologetic but slightly amused look on his face.

“We’re very sorry for the delay,” he said instantly. “I hope it wasn’t too much of an, um, inconvenience.”

The stutter, as well as the way he studiously avoided their eyes, told Jane that the likelihood of a camera being in the elevator was pretty darn high.

Jane flushed. “No inconvenience.”

“Thanks for taking care of the problem so quickly,” Becker added.

The man apologized again, then hurried off, leaving Jane and Becker alone in the lobby. She felt awkward as she looked at him. “So…I know the interview is out of the question, but…” she took a breath, “…how about dinner?”

His face went expressionless, but not before she saw the hesitation in his eyes. A spark of anger lit her belly. Seriously? They’d just had sex in an elevator and now he was just going to blow her off?

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Jane.” Remorse seeped into his features. “What happened just now…things may have gotten a little out of hand. Don’t get me wrong, it was…it was incredible, but it doesn’t change where my head is at right now.”

“And where is that?”

“Recovering from a divorce,” he said frankly.

“Oh.”

He dragged a hand through his short hair then let it dangle to his side. “I’m in no place for a relationship. Hell, I don’t even think I’m ready to date.”

A part of her wanted to kick him for giving her the best sex ever and then refusing to do it again. But there was genuine regret in his eyes. She could tell he wasn’t lying. He seemed sincerely messed up over the divorce he mentioned, and she wasn’t about to act like a heartless shrew by demanding he go out with her.

“I understand,” she finally said. Shifting on her feet, she readjusted the strap of her purse and managed a smile. “At least you’re one step closer to dating, huh?” He offered a rueful smile in response. “I guess so.”

A short silence fell between then. Jane cleared her throat and took an awkward step away from him.

“Okay. So, I should be heading back to my hotel. I need to rethink this article now that you’ve so rudely denied my interview request.”

“I’m sorry about that too. But I’m not interested in being in the spotlight. You get that, right?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” She sighed.

Becker shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He cleared his throat too. “Um…I should go.

I’ve got to call my realtor and apologize for missing our meeting.”

“Okay.”

Another silence, this time broken by the sound of their footsteps as they headed for the glass doors at the building’s entrance. They walked outside, and the warm breeze immediately slid under Jane’s tousled hair and cooled the nape of her neck. Disappointment mingled with the desire still coursing through her blood. Damn it. She didn’t want to say goodbye to him yet. How could she, after their explosive joining in the elevator?

But Becker had goodbye written all over his face. He glanced at her for a moment, and she could swear she saw another flash of hesitation, this time over walking away from her. But then those intense brown eyes went all shuttered again and, in a quiet voice, he said, “I’ll see you around, Jane.”

“See you around, Becker,” she echoed.

He offered a final nod, and then he was gone, disappearing into the afternoon crowd bustling down the sidewalk.

Jane watched him walk away. Disappointed. Aroused. A little bit pissed.

After a few long moments, she forced herself to snap out of this silly trance of longing, and headed for her car.

“You can’t change his mind?” Maureen Willis asked, her dissatisfaction emanating from the other end of the line.

Jane sighed and shifted the cell phone to her other ear. She was stretched out in a lounge chair on Coronado Beach, enjoying the late afternoon sun heating her skin and the sight of the calm ocean. She wished the magazine had sprung for one of those gorgeous cottages sitting a hundred yards away, but she wasn’t unhappy about her suite. The Hotel del Coronado was one of the most beautiful hotels she’d ever stayed in. She was already dreading having to get into her car and drive back to LA next week.

“I can’t change his mind,” she told her editor. “He was pretty adamant. He doesn’t want to be interviewed.”

“That’s a damn shame.” Maureen’s voice grew wistful. “I’m looking at those photos your sister sent over, and the one of Thomas Becker by the helicopter is seriously sexy.” Jane knew precisely which picture Maureen referred to. He was standing by the helicopter after they’d landed at the Navy base. The sun was just beginning to set, his big muscular body looked amazing, and his head was turned to the side, revealing his handsome profile. Jane had stared at the photo several times last night, and each time she saw his face, she remembered what they’d done in the elevator.

And wished they could do it again.

“I could just run the photo anyway,” Maureen said, sounding thoughtful. “We’ll mention his name in the caption, say he was the head of the rescue mission.”

“You can’t,” Jane answered firmly. “He doesn’t want his picture in the article. He said he prefers to keep a low profile, and he definitely won’t sign a photo release. Don’t worry, though, I’m working on the first draft, using my interview with Liz, and it’s pretty good. I don’t think we even need Thomas Becker.”

“What about the other members of the team? Can you speak with them?”

“I could try, but I was hoping to get the one who led the rescue.” Jane chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I think Liz’s firsthand account will be enough, Maureen. It’ll be an emotional piece, trust me.”

“Fine,” her editor said. “Try to talk to the other men if you think you need to, otherwise email me the story by the end of the week. You may as well stay there, since the hotel is already paid for, so enjoy the vacation.”

“Will do.”

Jane flipped the phone shut and tossed it into her green oversized beach bag. She leaned back in the chair, which caused the big straw hat on her head to shift. She hated the damn hat, but if she didn’t shade her face, she sunburned like crazy. She’d slathered the sunblock all over her body too, but already she could see her skin turning pink. Time to get out of the sun, she decided with a sigh.

She started to gather up her things, tossing the romance novel she’d been reading into her bag, then picking up her towel and fanning the sand out of it. She’d just slung the bag over her shoulder when a familiar voice sounded from behind.

“Jane?”

She whirled around, eyes wide. Thomas Becker stood a few feet away, looking as perplexed as she felt. He wore a pair of long khaki shorts and a pristine white T-shirt that molded to his chest, and he looked so sexy she wanted to rip off her bikini and throw herself into his powerful arms.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

“I’m staying in one of the cottages until I find a house.” He gestured to the beachfront suites she’d been admiring earlier. “Are you staying at this hotel too?”

She nodded. “I’m here ’til Sunday, then I’m driving back to LA.” Becker shoved his hands in his front pockets and walked toward her. “How’s the article going?”

“Good.” She grinned. “My editor is a tad upset that we won’t be able to print your handsome face, though.”

He grimaced. “You’re doing the public a favor. No one wants to see my face.” Jane rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you think you’re unattractive, because that’s just silly. You’re a hottie, and you know it.”

His mouth twitched. “I’m a hottie, huh?”

“Yep. Deal with it.”

There was a short pause, and their gazes locked again. A streak of awareness sizzled between them like lightning. What was up with this chemistry? Jane couldn’t figure it out. She’d dated other men, slept with other men, yet being around Becker made her body burn in a way it never had before. There was a relentless throbbing between her legs, which deepened when she swept her eyes over his rock-hard chest.

He caught her staring, his breath hitching.

“Are you undressing me with your eyes?” he asked gruffly.

“Yes.”

A smile crossed his face. “You really are the bluntest woman I’ve ever met, you know that?” He let out a sigh. “Are you hungry?”

She blinked. “Hungry?”

“You know, requiring nourishment,” he said dryly. “I was about to head back my cottage and order some room service. Want to join me?”

He was inviting her to dinner? After he’d told her he wasn’t interested in dating? She wanted to ask him what changed, but then realized this wasn’t the time to look a gift horse in the mouth. Because this was definitely a gift she’d been given. Another chance to get naked with Thomas Becker? Oh, yeah.

She looked up at him from under the brim of her tacky hat and said, “I would love to.” Becker spent the walk back to the cottage wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Why had he invited Jane Harrison over for dinner? He’d meant every word he’d said to her yesterday when they’d parted ways. He didn’t want a relationship. He didn’t want to date.

And he especially didn’t want either of those things with a woman who reminded him way too much of Alice.

But the second he’d laid eyes on her on the beach, he’d thought of nothing but being with her again.

She looked so fucking sexy in the bright pink bikini that clashed with her shocking red hair, and that grandma straw hat, which should have looked wrong on a woman as wildly attractive as Jane, but, well, the hat was pretty damn sexy too.

What was the matter with him? Why was he so drawn to this woman? He’d only spent an hour with her yesterday, ten minutes of that had been spent with his cock shoved inside her. Yet that was all the time he’d needed to know that, while they were explosive in the sex department, she wasn’t his type. At least not anymore. He wasn’t into bold, ambitious women any longer. He wanted someone…wholesome.

A woman he could start a family with, who’d have dinner waiting for him when he got home, who wouldn’t argue with him about every goddamn thing. Fine, so it was old-fashioned of him to long for a Suzie Homemaker, but after the fourteen years he’d spent with Alice, he wanted old-fashioned. He wanted
safe.

And Jane Harrison was not safe.

Oh no, everything about her screamed danger, from her pouty red lips to those mouthwatering tits to the sass that came out of her sexy mouth.

Stifling a groan, he strode into his cottage, his gaze immediately landing on the phone sitting on the coffee table of the elegant living area. Jane had gone back to her room to change, so he still had time to fix this. To tell her he’d decided he wanted to be alone.

Only problem was he didn’t want to be alone.

He wanted to be with Jane.

The groan he’d been holding slipped out. He kicked off his flip-flops and stared at the doorway leading into the bedroom. Before he could stop himself, he imagined Jane lying on the king-size bed, her naked body stretched across the silk sheets, her red hair fanned over the stark white pillow. His cock instantly hardened.

Damn it, why did he want this woman so badly?

Turning away from the bedroom, he sank down on the leather couch situated in front of the electric fireplace and switched on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. He channel surfed for a while, but his attention was elsewhere. His gaze kept moving to the front door, anticipating Jane’s arrival. By the time she finally sauntered up to his door a half hour later, his entire body was tense, every muscle taut with barely restrained desire.

He opened the door before she could even knock, causing her to grin and raise her delicate reddish-brown eyebrows. “Have you been waiting by the door this entire time?”

“No,” he lied.

Jane’s strappy sandals clicked against the floor as she walked into the cottage. Her blue-eyed gaze swept around the room, from the living area to the kitchen and dining room, then the bedroom door.

Then she turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed. “Are you a drug dealer?” she asked.

“
What?
”

“You can’t possibly afford this place on a SEAL’s salary. I know, I researched it once,” she said frankly.

Becker couldn’t help a laugh. He should’ve been insulted, both by the fact that she was asking if he was a drug dealer and also because she was inquiring about the finances of a stranger, but somehow it seemed completely normal coming from Jane.

“I am not a drug dealer,” he told her. “And since you’re so curious, I can afford this suite because I come from a wealthy family. Ever heard of BCI?”