Mad About The Man (23 page)

Jacques
'
s thoughts ran in hot, dark directions. Gaby wanted and needed them to be together, alone, as much as he did.
"
I
'
m going to have to do something. I
'
ll make it as short as I can.
"
His parents
were
long-winded and he enjoyed them too much to put them off.

Before he
'
d fully stopped the engine in Gaby
'
s driveway, she was out of the Jeep and racing for the house.

Tugging his tie undone, Jacques went after her. Anticipation made itself felt in the usual way where Gaby was concerned.

He closed the door behind him and walked forward, looking for her.
"
Gaby? Where are you?
'
'

"
Back here.
"
Her voice came from a passageway to the left and he saw her head poking from a room.
"
Come on. You won
'
t miss a thing, I promise you.
"

"
I believe you.
"
Her approach titillated him. Evidently Gaby McGregor wasn
'
t a woman practiced in setting up seductions. He breathed deeply. That suited him fine. She was, however, the kind of woman erotic dreams were made of, and to walk toward her now, knowing her intentions, made him instantly ready for what they did so well together.

The call to his parents could wait.

She pulled him into a small, softly feminine bedroom decorated in pale yellows and lavenders and furnished with white wicker. That surprised him. He
'
d expected the same dramatically bold colors and lines she favored in clothing.

"
Get everything off.
"

His head snapped toward her. He smiled, and the smile broadened.
"
In a masterful mood, huh? Okay. I can take orders.
"

The tux jacket was whipped from his shoulders the instant he undid the buttons. Before he could make another move, Gaby unbuckled his cummerbund and went to work on the shirt studs.

"
You understand me, Gaby. That
'
s a rare thing.
"
The shirt went the way of the jacket.
"
You know when I can wait and when I can
'
t.
"

"
Don
'
t worry about a thing.
"
She pulled off his shoes, and then his trousers hit the floor.
"
I
'
m going to take care of you, Jacques.
"

Yeah.
"
I
'
m sure you will,
"
he said and heard the thickening in his own voice.

Ms. McGregor might not have had a whole lot of recent practical exp
erience, but she stripped a man
with remarkable efficiency. Seconds more and Jacques stood, stark naked except for his watch.

Gaby gathered his clothes into a pile, plunked them on the puffy bed comforter and faced him.
"
Into the shower with you.
"

"
The shower?
"
he asked carefully. He locked his knees against the pulsing in his groin.

"
Yes.
"
Apparently oblivious to his physical reactions, she darted a
way into a bathroom off the bed
room, and he heard the shower come on.

Marvelously fascinated, Jacques followed and was confronted with a wholly pleasing view of Gaby
'
s perfect derriere in the short skirt of her cotton dress. She leaned through the glass doors of the shower.

The temptation to grab and leap with her into the water wasn
'
t easy to quell. But this was her show, and he had no doubt he
'
d enjoy every moment of what she had planned.

Gaby straightened and called,
"
Jacques!
"

"
Right here, honey.
"

She jumped and spun around.
"
Yes.
"
Her eyes were wide.
"
Get in.
"
The steam had turned her cheeks dewy pink. Tendrils of black hair curled about
her face.

"
Anything you say.
"
He remembered his watch and fiddled with the band.
"
How long will you be?
"

"
Not long. Not long at all. You go ahead while I see to things. I
'
ll be quick, I promise. I know you
'
re in a hurry.
"

Before he could say another word, Gaby left the bathroom. Thoughtfully Jacques puffed up his cheeks and got into the shower. She knew he was in a hurry. That didn
'
t exactly sound romantic.

He let the water beat on his face. This whole episode was bizarre—not that he was complaining.

Seconds passed.

Jacques soaped his body. He thought back over the events since he
'
d lef
t Goldstrike earlier in the eve
ning.

He was definitely being set up.

Gaby had rushed away from the meeting in time to position herself on the road to La Place. And he
'
d lay odds she deliberately removed the wheel from her bike.

He rinsed off and located a bottle of shampoo.

To knock him over, she
'
d had to walk around the bike and into him. That had been no accident, either.

Cautiously he slid the shower door open a few inches and peered out. There was a clear view into the bedroom. Gaby wasn
'
t there.

So, she
'
d waylaid him, knocked him in the dirt and wiped her muddy hands all over him, then insisted on bringing him back here and forcing him into the shower. Not that she could have forced him if he hadn
'
t wanted to go. And, so far, she hadn
'
t appeared—pink and creamy all over and ready to join him for the grand finale.

He lathered his hair and sloshed the soap out.

I know you
'
re in a hurry to get somewhere impo
r
tant,
Gaby had said.

Jacques screwed up his eyes, considering.

What time is it
…
that late? You must be beside yourself.

Yet he
'
d said nothing about being on his way anywhere, or about any deadlines.

With you being in such a hurry and needing
to
arrive where you
'
re going in a tux I
'
m sure I can
fix
you up quickly at my house
…
then you can be on
your
way and not make anyone upset or miss anything you
'
ve got to do.

Almost as if she
'
d known about the meeting with Napoleon
and the order to wear a tux…

But how—

"
Hell!
"
The scene in his bedroom the previous Sunday played in his mind like a full-color movie.
"
She read the fax!
"

Very deliberately Jacques finished rinsing and slicking back his hair, then he rested a shoulder against the wall and waited.

Finally a small shadow moved toward the shower
.
The moment Gaby began to slide open the door, he bent his head under the water once more.
"
This is awful,
"
he said.
"
Awful.
"

"
Jacques?
"

"
That
'
s my name. Where have you been?
"

"
Um, seeing to things.
"

He could imagine.
"
What time is it? I can
'
t be late.
"

She cleared her throat.
"
It
'
s not late.
"

"
Not late? What does that mean? I asked you for the time.
"

"
I
'
ll go look.
"

"
Don
'
t bother.
"
He shot out a hand and grabbed her wrist.
"
I
'
ve got soap in my eyes, damn it. I hate that. Ouch! It stings.
"

"
I
'
ll get you a wash cloth.
"

"
It hurts! Get it out now.
"

Through slitted li
ds he saw her reach toward his f
ace. Bracing himself, timing his move, he waited until her balance was the most precarious.
"
Ouch!
"
Peeling around, he settled his hands on her upper arms and yanked.

Her shriek brought him deep satisfaction. Two could play this kind of game, and he wouldn
'
t botch it like some.

Gaby landed against him and held on to stop herself from sliding to the shower floor. Shock registered on her face. While her hair became plastered to her head and shoulders, her mouth opened and closed like a beached fish.

"
Wow, I
'
m sorry,
"
Jacques said, steadying her directly under the full force of water.
"
You
'
re getting
wet.
"

Gaby blinked and swiped at her face.

"
If you don
'
t take that dress off it
'
s going to get ruined.
"
The white cotton clung to every curve. He could make out the patterned lace of her bra—and peachy-colored skin beneath—and nipples puckered like irresistible little pebbles.

She made a move to get out, but he slid the door shut firmly instead.
"
You don
'
t want to drip all over the floor, honey. Here, let me help you out of that thing.
"
At least she
'
d taken off her shoes.

When he started unbuttoning her bodice, Gaby made an ineffectual attempt to stop him.

"
Don
'
t worry about me,
"
he told her.
"
If I
'
m late,
I
'
m late. I learned the importance of prioritizing a long time ago.
"

The bewildered expression on her face almost undid him. The sight of her breasts beneath transparent cotton and lace fried his concentration completely.

Gaby
'
s hands slid from his chest to his hips.
"
Look at me. What a mess.
"

"
I am looking,
"
he murmured.
"
And wh
at I see is anything but a mess.
"

"
Jacques, I
…
"
She looked at his mouth and her
li
ps parted.

"
Jacques, I what?
"
he asked, bending closer.
"
What, Gaby?
"

"
I
…
Kiss me, please.
"

With water cascading over them, he did as she asked, and did it again and again, until she clung to him and he crossed his arms around her, slid up her dress to cup her bottom through flimsy silk panties and press her hips into his.

Gaby stood on tiptoe and Jacques gasped as her ruckled dress passed over him. She used the tip of her poi
nted tongue to play with the corn
ers of his mouth, reached higher and turned his head to nip at his ear. And with each move, wet fabric stimulated his already pulsing flesh.

"
You are driving me insane,
"
he told her through gritted teeth. Panting, he planted her hands firmly at her sides and held them there while he caught his breath.
"
Okay, okay. Don
'
t touch me. Don
'
t move a muscle or I
'
m not going to make it.
"