Scandalous (19 page)
“I don’t understand, Jacks. What sort of business? This is your first night. I made plans.”
Rachel pursed her adorable Cupid’s-bow lips into a pout and tousled her honey-blonde hair in irritation. They were in Rachel’s dorm room—her roommate, Helen, had thoughtfully agreed to evaporate for the four nights of Jackson’s visit, and Rachel had made the place as love-nesty as possible, throwing all her clothes into the laundry hamper and lighting scented candles on every inch of surface not covered with vases of flowers. Jackson walked over and slipped his hand inside Rachel’s American Apparel tank top, cupping a small but perfectly formed breast and gently caressing her nipple with his thumb. Despite herself, Rachel closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure.
“I promise you,” Jackson whispered, nuzzling her neck and softly kissing her earlobe, “this is the last piece of work I have to do here. I’ll be an hour. Two hours, tops,” he promised, mentally calculating how long it would take him to woo Sasha, get her up to his suite at the Ritz Carlton, fuck her,
and
persuade her to come and work at Wrexall. “After that I’m all yours.”
“What about
before
that?” Rachel’s lips parted, her pupils dilating with lust.
Jackson grinned, pushing her down on the neatly made twin bed. Maybe he did miss his college days after all?
“You should go.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dad.” Sasha took her mother’s shopping bags as they crossed the street. Sue Miller wanted to do a “lightning” stop at Banana Republic and various other American stores before their farewell dinner at Marco’s. “I’m not interested in the job, and I’m certainly not interested in him.”
“How do you know you’re not interested in the job? He hasn’t told you what it is yet.”
“If it involves working within a ten-mile radius of Jackson Dupree’s ego, I’m not interested,” said Sasha firmly.
“Your father’s right,” said Sue. “Go and have a drink with him. We’ll meet you afterwards. It’s silly to close doors before you—”
“Oh my God.” Sasha interrupted her, pulling her off the street into a Starbucks. There was Jackson, kissing a young, blonde coed on the other side of the street. And not just kissing. His hands were everywhere. “Look at him! That’s disgusting.”
Sue and Don Miller exchanged glances. How long was Sasha’s anti-men phase going to last? She hadn’t had a boyfriend in years.
“He’s very good looking,” said Sue.
“He’s a letch.”
“I thought you wanted to be a businesswoman?” said Don. “That you were selling your services to the highest bidder?”
“I am.”
“Then stop being so daft and go and meet him. Let him bid.”
Sasha opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again.
Fine. I’ll go. But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I work for Jackson Dupree.
At eight on the dot, Sasha walked into the bar at the Ritz Carlton. Jackson was nowhere to be seen.
I’ll give him two minutes
, she
thought crossly.
I’m not hanging around for that vain, self-important…
“You came.” In the twenty minutes since she’d last seen him, Jackson had showered, shaved, and changed into a pair of cream linen Armani pants and a coffee-colored Interno 8 shirt that perfectly offset his butterscotch tan. For a split second his handsomeness, combined with his broad, apparently genuine smile, disarmed her.
“I can only stay for a drink. It’s my parents’ last night in town. But I figured I’d hear what you have to say.”
Jackson frowned. He’d been planning on getting her tipsy in the bar, excited about Wrexall over dinner, then sealing the deal in bed. Now he would have to move straight to phase three. Languidly stretching out his arm, he stroked Sasha’s hair.
“Let’s cut to the chase, darling, shall we? I can tell you about Wrexall when you have more time. There’s a job for you with us if you want it. But right now I think we both know it’s not the job you want.”
Before Sasha had a moment to protest, Jackson swooped in and kissed her passionately on the mouth. He smelled of lemons and soap and toothpaste. Feeling his body pressed against hers, for a moment Sasha felt a stab of longing. Old feelings flooded her body, familiar yet strange, like a frozen river cracking in the first spring thaw. Then, out of nowhere, an image of Theo Dexter naked and making love to her popped into Sasha’s mind. She pushed Jackson violently away.
“Get off me! Are you out of your mind?”
“I don’t think so.” Jackson was maddeningly unperturbed. “I want you. You want me. We’re both adults. You’re not attached, are you?”
“That has nothing to do with it!” said Sasha furiously.
“Good. Neither am I.” He leaned in for another kiss.
“Stop it! What are you, some kind of sex pest? I saw you on the street half an hour ago. With the blonde? So for one thing, you
are
attached.”
Jackson grinned. “Ah. You’re jealous.”
“I am not
jealous
. I came here to talk about a job, you jerk. Clearly I made a huge error of judgment.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not attracted to me. That when I kissed you just now you weren’t imagining the two of us in bed together.”
“You’re deranged.” Sasha turned on her heel and stormed out of the hotel. As she came out of the revolving doors onto Newbury Street, she saw Jackson’s blonde. Clearly the girl couldn’t keep away from him. “Excuse me,” said Sasha on impulse. “I’m sorry to intrude. But are you the girl dating Jackson Dupree?”
A look of pride spread over the blonde’s face.
“That’s right.” She smiled. “I’m Rachel Cooper. Do you know Jackson?”
“Not at all,” said Sasha. “But that didn’t stop him trying to get me into bed right now. He asked me here to talk about a job with his company, then he stuck his tongue down my throat and begged me to sleep with him.” Color drained from the blonde’s face. “Look, I’m sorry to be so blunt. But you seem like a nice girl. You can do a lot better than that arsehole.”
Don and Sue Miller couldn’t believe it.
“You should report him. That’s sexual harassment.”
“It’s worse than that. He kissed her. That’s sexual assault.”
Sasha thought back to Jackson’s kiss and her own response. She hadn’t exactly slapped him round the face. Not for the first few seconds anyway. Sexual assault was probably pushing it.
“Forget it. He’s a moron, but I’ll never have to see him again. Besides,” she smiled, “I think I’ve already ruined his evening.”
“Come on, Rach. You’re being ridiculous!”
“So you didn’t try to sleep with her? She’s lying, is that what you’re saying?”
The entire bar, restaurant, and lobby had turned to tune in to the screaming match between Jackson Dupree and the gorgeous blonde girl. So far it was blonde fifteen, Jackson love.
“I don’t
try
to sleep with anyone,” said Jackson coldly. “If I want to sleep with a woman, I do.”
Fifteen all.
“Do you want to sleep with me?”
A slow smile spread over Jackson’s face. “Of course I do, angel. That’s why I’m here. Let’s not let a silly misunderstanding spoil our vacation, OK?”
Rachel turned sweetly to a woman at the bar. “Could I borrow that for a second?” Picking up the woman’s ice-cold vodka tonic, she threw it in Jackson’s face.
“Well you can’t. Not now, not ever, you lying son of a bitch.”
Game, set, and match blonde.
It was too late to get a flight back to New York that night. Lying in bed alone, staring at the ceiling in his palatial hotel suite, Jackson was too angry to sleep.
How dare Sasha Miller rat him out to Rachel? He knew damn well she’d been attracted to him. He could see it in her eyes. If there was one thing Jackson Dupree knew how to do, it was to spot desire in a woman. All that feminist anger, it was just a way of acting out.
She was angry at herself. She knew she didn’t come because of the job and it killed her.
The irony was, he didn’t even want her that badly. Sasha Miller was pretty, more than pretty, but she was pricklier than a porcupine’s hide. Rachel, dear, sweet, uncomplicated, teenage Rachel. She was much more Jackson’s type. He’d only gone for
Sasha because she presented a mild challenge and a little variety. Jackson did like variety. What he did not like was rejection.
Fuck it. Tomorrow he’d go back to the city and bang a few models to restore his equilibrium.
Harvard girls are more trouble than they’re worth.
