Runaway Vegas Bride (5 page)

“She’s got some fire in her, all right. I like that in a woman,” Leo admitted. “Couldn’t believe she actually took a swing at me. Didn’t think she had it in her.”

“It was the ‘girly’ remark,” Gladdy said. “And I may have overplayed things a bit myself with her.”

“Of course not. It worked perfectly,” Kathleen insisted. “Look at them. Jane feels terrible about what she did and Wyatt’s comforting her. It’s so sweet. They’ve known each other for less than three days and there they are. I’d say our plan to get them together is a rousing success.”

“Well, in that case, ladies,” Leo said, “would you care to join me for a celebratory drink? I have champagne chilling in the minifridge in my room. We can decide on our next move and commemorate the success of this one.”

Wyatt took Jane back to his apartment, which was a mere four blocks away—a sleek, shiny, modern, expensive loft in a high-rise on the edge of town.

Jane taking charge was something to behold. She pushed him down to sit in the middle of the big, cushy sofa the minute they had walked in the door, and told him not to move. He complied.

She got ice from the kitchen, lectured him mildly about the need to take care of himself properly once she found out he didn’t even have an ice pack, explained that one should always be prepared for life’s emergencies, then said they’d make do with a ziplock bag wrapped in a hand towel.

She came to stand behind him, took his head in her hands and eased it back against the sofa cushions. Then she placed the makeshift ice pack on his right eye.

“Keep that there while I search your bathroom. You must have some ointment and bandages somewhere.”

He sprawled on the couch, leaning back as instructed and holding the ice to his eye. He never imagined a woman giving orders to him would be so sexy. Normally, he was a take-charge kind of guy. Not that he ordered women around, either. Just that…well, he couldn’t help but wonder now exactly how Jane would be in bed.

Would all those spitfire tendencies come out? That take-charge attitude, demanding what she wanted from him?

Wyatt had a hard time imagining Jane knowing what she truly wanted in bed, much less demanding it. She was cute, but didn’t seem to have much use for men, and any woman who’d been truly satisfied in bed would have at least one use for a man, he reasoned. He suspected she was very
good at pushing men away, at keeping them at arm’s length, and not that good at really letting herself go in any situation.

Not that he thought he’d see her in his bed anytime soon.

There had to be a dozen women he knew who’d be so much less trouble than Jane, although, he thought, once there, Jane would be interesting and definitely a challenge.

And Wyatt would admit to being a man who liked a challenge.

She came back a moment later and he felt the couch cushions give with her weight, as she knelt on the seat beside him, bracing her side on the back of the couch as she leaned over him.

Removing the ice pack, she frowned down at him, her face maybe an inch from his as she inspected his eye.

“It’s all red and puffy now,” she complained, sighing heavily, her warm breath brushing across his cheek, his ear.

He shivered just a bit, wondering what she’d do if he pushed her backward to lay on the couch, stretched out on top of her and started giving a few orders of his own. Would she give him a smile and wind her arms around him? More likely, she’d try to hit him again or really put his eye out this time.

The woman thought she was a champion kickboxer, after all.

Wyatt grinned, laughing a bit, unable to help himself.

“What? There’s nothing funny about this. I feel terrible, Wyatt.”

“Well, I don’t,” he said. “It’s really nothing, Jane. I can hardly feel it anymore. I assure you, I’m fine.” As long as she didn’t figure out where his thoughts were going at the moment.

She put the ice pack aside and came up with some kind of ointment, which she then very carefully spread with her fingertips along his eyelid, his brow and the side of his face. And as she got closer and concentrated harder on getting it in exactly the right place and not his eye, her body leaned into the side of his, one breast pressed against his shoulder.

He felt like someone had installed a giant neon Trouble sign in his apartment when he wasn’t looking, and that it had just flickered on and was blinking in a fire-engine red color.

Trouble, trouble, trouble!

He had real problems to deal with. Leo and his penchant for getting kicked out of retirement complexes had Wyatt worried that there would be no place in all of Maryland that would take his uncle, once Ms. Steele put the word out about him. And the easiest way to fix that problem was for Wyatt and Jane to work together.

If he made her mad, came on to her, offended her, hurt her, he doubted they’d be working together to solve the Leo problem any longer. So Ms. Jane Carlton was definitely off-limits. It would be more trouble in the long run than any short-term fling with her would be worth.

So what if she smelled really good? And had the sweetest, gentlest touch in a little spitfire of a body? Which he suspected no man had ever properly awakened before. Surely he was capable of exercising some kind of discipline where a woman was concerned.

He shifted his weight, thinking to ease away from her, and instead, set her off balance and her whole body fell against his. No question now. Those were her breasts pressed against him, her neck and her sweet, sassy Jane mouth right at the corner of his own.

She gasped in surprise, her eyes suddenly all big and round and so close to his, not blinking. Neither of them breathed for an instant.

He could have her flat on her back in a moment. Or take her by her thighs and pull her across his lap facing him, palm those pretty hips he’d had pressed against him earlier and pull her tight against him. He knew it, and if he knew anything about women, she was thinking the same thing.

Discipline, Wyatt. It’s not just a word
.

“Jane,” he whispered, hardly able to believe he was actually doing this, taking her arms in his hands and steadying her, then easing her away from him, to sit on her knees on the cushion beside him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to throw you off balance like that.”

She just looked at him, sexy and baffled and maybe embarrassed, which was the last thing he wanted.

“And I’m just not sure what you want here,” he confessed. “But I know what I want, and I really don’t want to offend you.”

She seemed a little dazed, innocent.
Damn
.

“What I want?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I…I was just trying to fix your eye.”

“Okay.” He smiled what he hoped was an I-understand-perfectly smile and not an I-wanted-to-jump-your-bones one. “That’s what I thought you were doing. My mistake.”

“Mistake?”

She looked a little sad then, a little embarrassed. He could feel her withdrawing from him, even though she hadn’t actually moved an inch.

“I’m just…I’m a guy, okay? Some women would say, I’m not a very nice guy. That I…well, when a woman gets
this close and is…touching me…I get ideas. Ideas that, I’m afraid, were not the same ideas you were having, and…well, you’re a beautiful woman, Jane.”

She scrambled to get off the couch, to get away from him, hot color blooming in her cheeks as she got all flustered. “You thought…I was coming on to you?”

He nodded, thinking honesty probably wasn’t the best policy here, that he’d offended her, when, he swore to God, he’d been trying to do the exact opposite. To keep from offending her.

Women
. They could just be so hard to read, and sometimes it seemed there was no way to win. No way at all.

Come on to her and offend her? Don’t come on to her and still offend her?

What was a guy to do?

“I am so sorry,” she said.

“Jane, it’s no big deal—

She blushed even more furiously. “I would never—”

“Never?” Now that hurt. “Never?”

“I’m not…I mean to say, I don’t—”

“Don’t what?” Now he had to know. Never with anyone? No way. Not in this day and age. Or no way, no how, with him? That seemed like overstating it a bit. “What do you mean, never?”

“I don’t…throw myself at men.”

Okay, that he believed, though in his thoroughly male opinion it was a shame.

The world should be full of women who threw themselves at men. Of course, it was, he’d found, but not many of those women were like Jane.

“I’m sorry. For everything. And I just…I have to go,” she said.

“You really don’t,” he claimed.

“I do.” She turned and fled.

Wyatt swore softly and succinctly, his body humming with desire, still feeling her pressed against him, her soft hands on his face.

He was an idiot. A complete idiot where women like her were concerned.

J
ane Carlton did not come on to men.

At least, she didn’t think she did.

She didn’t mean to.

Her face burned when she remembered being on the couch with Wyatt the day before. He’d thought she was making a pass at him? And he’d been trying to say…he’d welcome that?

Surely not.

“You’re frowning again,” Lainie said, standing in the doorway with a batch of message slips with Jane’s calls on them. “What in the world happened to you yesterday?”

Jane, if puzzling over anyone’s behavior except Wyatt’s, would have normally turned to Gram and Gladdy for advice on men. Between the two of them, she doubted there was any situation Jane might find herself in that they hadn’t already been in themselves. But she couldn’t talk
to them about Wyatt. Not when she was trying to keep his uncle away from both of them.

She figured Lainie was her best shot for help here.

“Can I ask you something about men?” Jane blurted out before she lost her nerve.

Lainie giggled.

“Why is that so funny?” Jane asked, finding Lainie’s reaction slightly offensive, maybe more than slightly.

“It’s not funny. I’m just so happy, Jane!” she said, like Jane had announced she was eloping or something.

“It’s just a question.”

“Okay. Go ahead. Please.” Lainie sounded so eager. “Anything I can do to help.”

“You think I need help with men?”

“Oh, definitely.”

No hesitation there. Jane pictured herself as a virtual wrecking yard of relationships, like there might be a sign that said,
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here
.

“It’s about…coming on to men,” she said, wishing she’d never started this whole thing.

“Oh!” Lainie clapped her hands together like a kid who’d just received a terrific present. “This is sooooo good! Jane, I’m so proud of you. You actually want to make the first move with a man!”

“No, I didn’t say that. I’m just…trying to find out if I already did.”

“Well, that’s even better! Tell me! Tell me everything,” she begged.

Jane thought about how she might explain, then decided it would probably be better to just show Lainie. There was a love seat in Jane’s office, after all.

“Shut the door,” she instructed, then got up and walked
over to the love seat. “I just…sit down and let me show you.”

“Okay.” Lainie sat.

Jane knelt on the love seat, conscious now of how hard it was to keep her balance. “Lean your head back.”

Lainie did, and Jane eased closer.

“Now, you’ve hurt your eye, and I’m…I’m trying to fix it. That’s it. Just trying to fix it. Like this, except you’re a lot taller than me, so I had to reach up higher. If I did that, would you think I was coming on to you?”

She reached up to a point past Lainie’s eye and then looked down and realized her breasts were practically in Lainie’s face when she made that move.

“Oh, no!” Jane cried.

Lainie lifted her head before Jane could move away, and then…sure enough, breasts in her face.

While Lainie giggled, Jane went to brace herself against Lainie’s body to get out of the way, but before she could do that, she heard a voice.

A man’s voice, Wyatt’s, clearing his throat and then saying, “Ladies, I’m so sorry. There was no one at the desk out front, and I…seem to have caught you at a bad time.”

Jane froze, her mouth dropping open.

This could not be happening.

Lainie looked over Jane’s shoulder. She could see Lainie taking the whole thing in. Mulling it over. Wyatt, how gorgeous he was. His eye, no doubt at least a bit bruised. Jane’s worry about coming on to a man. Jane shoving her breasts practically in his face while she tried to fix his eye and needing to reenact the whole scene to figure that out.

She was a complete idiot.

She looked to Lainie, mouthing,
Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me alone with him. Please!

“Sorry.” Lainie laughed and got up from the couch. “I’m sure I have…something to do at my desk.”

Jane hung her head down and stayed there, sat back on her heels on the love seat, thinking if she never had to turn around and look at him, she might live through this day with just a shred of her dignity intact.

She heard Lainie introduce herself and Wyatt’s gloriously deep, beautiful voice saying, “Wyatt Gray. So nice to meet you.”

And then Lainie disappeared, closing the door behind her.

Jane stayed where she was and said, “If I paid you…like a million dollars, would you turn around and go away? So that we never had to talk about this?”

He laughed. Beautifully. The sound like a current zinging through her body.

And then he walked over and sat down beside her. She still perched there on her knees, not wanting to shove any part of herself into his face, either accidentally or on purpose.

He looked like a man who couldn’t be more pleased with himself or his life at this moment. Wearing a gorgeously expensive suit that wrapped faithfully around his altogether impressive body, he sat there, slightly blackened eye and all, looking completely at ease and holding a huge bouquet of exotic-looking flowers in his hand.

“Jane, I’m seldom wrong about these things, but with you…Well, I suppose it’s a possibility. I just haven’t had a lot of dealings with women like you. You don’t…like women, do you?”

“What? Of course, I like women. Women are great, women are—”

“Sexually,” he clarified.

“Oh. You mean…me and Lainie? Me and…women? That way?”

He nodded.

“No! I…No! Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But, I like men.” She got all flustered then, and kept talking, which she tended to do when flustered. Fill the silence and try to move on. “Granted, not a lot of men. But I do…like…men. I mean, I have to admit I like them more in theory than reality, but…Well…Oh, my God!”

She buried her head in her hands and gave up.

Too much information, Jane
.

Way too much information
.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that,” Wyatt responded. “That you like men. And that you find at least a few of us…acceptable and interesting.”

The flowers, looking lush, exotic and expensive, came into her field of view, even with her head hanging low so she didn’t have to look at him.

“These are for you,” he continued, still sounding amused. “A small token of apology, nothing else. No reason for you to worry.”

“But
I
hit
you
,” she said, taking the flowers and feeling completely inadequate at the moment as a girl. This whole girl-stuff thing had just never come naturally to her. Or maybe she just hadn’t tried hard enough or cared enough. But she’d always felt a little awkward in this area.

Even more than usual with Wyatt.

“I know, but I embarrassed you yesterday in my apartment, and it certainly wasn’t my intention.”

“No. It was me. I was…I’m so sorry—”

“Jane,” he interrupted. “Take the flowers and say thank you. Then forget about the whole thing. It’s as easy as that.”

Easy for him, maybe.

“Jane?” He touched his fingers gently to her chin and urged her to raise her head and look him in the eye.

His poor, bruised eye. It was a faded black shade. She’d really hit a man.

“I’m telling everyone a hulking two-hundred-fifty-pound man did this to me, and that I got it defending a lady’s honor. My female clients are impressed and the men are intimidated.”

She was sure the women were impressed.

“Take the flowers and say ‘thank you,’” he reminded her.

She took them and mumbled, “Thank you.”

He sat there looking as relaxed and gorgeous as could be, despite the black eye. “Now, what are we going to do about Leo and your sweet grandmother and great aunt?”

Two days later, Jane was in the middle of a youth-regenerating apricot-mint facial and pedicure—thinking it would give her some alone time with Gladdy to explain what a rat Leo really was—when she got the call.

Ms. Steele, the Remington Park administrator, insisted on seeing her immediately.

That had never happened before.

Jane promised to be there within the hour because Gladdy insisted that no meeting was worth cutting short a facial and pedicure.

As she sat in the waiting area outside Ms. Steele’s office, Jane had a sinking feeling she knew what this was
about. That Ms. Steele had heard about Jane attempting to slug Leo Gray on the grounds of Remington Park.

How humiliating!

She remembered it seemed like tons of eyes were staring at her when that freakish red haze cleared—when she stopped trying to kick Wyatt in the shins and pull out his hair, thinking she was under attack and all her self-defense training she’d never had to use before was kicking in. So it wasn’t that surprising Ms. Steele would have heard about it. From what Jane had seen in the time Gram and Gladdy had been here, Ms. Steele kept a very close eye on the goings-on at Remington Park. As a business owner, Jane could only applaud that kind of devotion and attention to detail.

But at the moment, she was horribly embarrassed.

She sat there getting more and more nervous, wondering how in the world she might explain herself, when Wyatt, blackened eye and all, strolled in.

Her face fell. “You’ve been summoned, too?”

He nodded, taking the seat beside her, looking much more at ease here than she did.

“I feel like I’ve been called into the principal’s office,” Jane fretted.

He laughed. “I’m going out on a limb here, but I bet you were a very good girl growing up, Jane. I bet you’ve never been called to the principal’s office before.”

“Only for good things. Like accepting awards and organizing school fund-raisers,” she admitted, sighing heavily. “How in the world am I going to explain getting into a fight on the grounds of my grandmother and aunt’s retirement park?”

“Denial is always a good start,” he began.

“Denial? You’re sitting here with a black eye.”

“And if denial is out of the question, I recommend, as a next step, downplaying the importance and scope of the situation.”

“You sound like a defense attorney now. Either that or someone who’s used to being in trouble.”

He shook his head. “Never been a defense attorney, but I did play one in moot court competition in law school. Won my cases every time.”

Jane wasn’t surprised about the wins and noted he hadn’t denied being in trouble himself. She shook her head and said, “I got Gladdy alone today at a salon. It was like talking to a Barbie doll. She ignored everything I said about your uncle and kept suggesting new skin care routines for me.”

“Wait…salon?” He leaned in close, his nose practically touching the rim of her ear, sniffing her hair, then the side of her face. “Is that why you smell so good? Good enough to eat?”

She closed her eyes, feeling all tingly and warm at the same time.

Because a man was sniffing her youth-regenerating apricot-mint facial?

She felt him breathing in that smell, the heat from his body so close, radiating toward hers. The tip of his nose gently brushed her cheek. Was it an accident?

“What is it? Peaches?”

“Apricots,” she admitted, not daring to move an inch.

She didn’t think she’d ever had actual sexual intercourse that felt this good. Her breasts ached and she thought she wanted to shove them into his face right now. She could spread apricot-mint facial cream over her
whole body and then practice her coming-on-to-him skills and see how he liked it.

Jane was even regretting wearing her customary white, no-frills, all-buttoned-up blouse, because honestly, how much good could a woman do trying to stick her breasts in a man’s face when she was buttoned up practically to her chin? She was even considering undoing a few buttons, as unobtrusively as possible, when she heard a door open.

There was dead silence for a moment.

A throat was cleared quite pointedly.

When Jane glanced up, Ms. Steele, looking particularly steelish at the moment, was gaping at them both.

Face flaming, Jane turned to Wyatt. Sitting up straight in his chair now, he threw up his hands in a helpless manner and mouthed, “Sorry,” before standing, extending a hand to Jane, then leading her into Ms. Steele’s office.

They sat side by side in front of Ms. Steele’s desk. Jane looked determinedly down at the floor so she couldn’t see Wyatt, but she felt him, absolutely certain he was doing that easy yet elegant sprawl of his, perfectly comfortable in that chair, ready to brazen this out with the body language that said,
Problem? There is no problem here
.

The man had nerve, and it seemed he was impossible to embarrass.

What in the world must Ms. Steele think of them?

“I am so sorry for that…that…” What to call it? Jane couldn’t think of a thing and sat there mute, feeling stupid all over again.

Wyatt shot her a hard look that said something like…
Denial and downplaying, remember? You’re not helping, Jane.

Jane dared to look up at Ms. Steele, who appeared to
be having a hard time believing what she’d just seen in her waiting room.

“I…” the woman began. “I wasn’t aware that the two of you knew each other.”

“Oh, we don’t,” Jane claimed, then realized how ridiculous that sounded, given the fact that they were just in the waiting room, Wyatt practically nuzzling her cheek. Would what he did really be considered nuzzling? Or had he just been smelling her fruity facial? “My grandmother, my aunt and Wyatt’s uncle introduced us. They know each other. That’s all.”

“Oh, I’m aware that they know each other,” she said, emphasis on the word
know
.

Jane felt like sinking down in her chair and trying to hide.

Wyatt, still brazening it out, asked, “Is there something we can do for you, Ms. Steele?”

The woman’s lips got all funny and stiff, as if she sternly disapproved of Wyatt, maybe of both of them. Jane couldn’t be sure.

“You could tell me,” Ms. Steele said, “why I have very odd and difficult-to-believe, yet remarkably consistent reports, that you, Jane, attacked this man’s uncle on the walkway outside the blue cottage shortly before noon yesterday.”