Out Of My League

OUT OF MY LEAGUE

“Jack?” Lucy could barely hear her own voice. “What’s wrong?” “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but it’s ridiculous. I feel like an idiot. I’ve never humiliated myself like this, at least not since I was in love with my second grade teacher. Here’s your check.” He tore up the check and let it flutter to the sand. “I don’t care how beautiful you are, I can’t sit around waiting for you to tell me to kiss you. It’s unnatural. I decide when I’m going to kiss a woman. Got that?” Jack pushed her against a palm tree and held her gaze. “Please, Jack, it wasn’t an insult. Honestly. I was desperate. I’m supposed to be the siren in this movie, this week. I’ll freeze up and get fired, I know it.” She sighed and a tear fell on her cheek. “I just wanted you to help me unfreeze. Warm me up a little.” She shook her head. He didn’t understand. How could he? The man probably hadn’t frozen up around a member of the opposite sex since he was thirteen. “Practice,” she tried again. And realized how stupid she sounded. “Why me?” His voice sounded very far away. “Why do you think? You’re hot.” Lucy suddenly realized how close he was, how good he smelled, and looked…

ALSO BY THERESE MACFARLAND Three Nights In Greece

OUT OF MY LEAGUE BY THERESE MACFARLAND

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

OUT OF MY LEAGUE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2005 by Therese MacFarland ISBN 1-59279-393-2 Cover Art © 2005 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

For Isabella Jordan, in thanks for encouragement above and beyond the call of duty.

OUT OF MY LEAGUE

CHAPTER 1

Jack McGuire thought he must be the worst cop in LA, because he should be arresting this woman for lewd and lascivious behavior. But he was enjoying himself too much to care. Lucy St. John paraded back and forth in front of a three-paneled mirror in four-inch heels and nothing else. Well, she did have a thong on, and stockings that reached to the middle of exquisite tanned thighs. And there was something that he supposed might be considered a bra, but it didn’t really cover her breasts, only managed to draw more attention to them. “I’m sorry, Detective McGuire, I won’t be much longer.” Jack nodded numbly. Lucy gave him an innocent smile and sashayed back into the dressing room. “Damn,” Jack muttered under his breath. “Is there something wrong, sir? Can I get you something to drink— a spritzer, some sparkling water?” The saleswoman was going to burst 1

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into laughter any moment, Jack could tell. “Maybe something a little stronger? I like to drink myself into oblivion while I’m on duty. Naked supermodels get pretty tedious.” “You aren’t from LA, are you?” “It shows? New York.” The woman winked and disappeared for a moment, returning with a bottle of spring water and a glass with a lime twist on the rim. Jack ignored the glass and chugged the water from the bottle. He stood and stripped off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. He heard Lucy’s heels clicking on the woodwork floor and fought hard not to look up eagerly. Who the hell are you kidding? Like you’re not going to look. One glance, and he gasped and dropped the bottle, which rolled across the floor to stop at Lucy’s heels. The saleswoman scurried to pick it up. Jack used the distraction to throw his jacket over his growing erection. He rubbed his temples in frustration. “What do you think?” Lucy tilted her head to one side and turned right and then left, letting the fabric sway just below her naked buttocks. She adjusted the straps of the gown. Jack supposed it was a gown, but he could see right through it. Nothing between her skin and his eyes except for a thin strip of fabric between her thighs. Nothing hid her amazingly perfect, round, full breasts. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her peaked, dark nipples. “Detective? Which do you think? This or the black?” She turned and looked directly in his eyes and he groaned. She’s fucking with you, asshole. How could you be so stupid? “The do-me-now black was passable.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. The salesperson laughed. “Men are partial to black. Isn’t that right, Detective?” “Men are partial to nude female bodies. That stuff gets ripped off 2

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immediately. I’ll wait outside, Ms. St. John. Please put some clothes on before you leave the shop, or I’ll have to arrest you.” Jack stepped onto Rodeo Drive, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. He held his jacket in front of his bulging crotch, which he prayed the women hadn’t noticed. “Holy shit,” he mumbled as he sat on a bench. Schneider hadn’t bothered to mention that Ms. Lucetta St. John was the hottest thing on two legs. Jack groaned and decided the best route was to get the interview and beat a fast retreat back to his condo to start packing. He didn’t belong in LA any more than he belonged in a lingerie shop with Lucetta St. John. At the tinkling of the shop bell, he looked up and shielded his eyes from the glare of the late-afternoon sun. Lucy stepped so that she blocked the light and he could see her face. She was a traffic-stopper, even in clothes. Of course, that’s what she did for a living, he thought. Perfume ads, jeans ads…her killer body and face were plastered all over billboards and magazine covers. He’d just never put the face with the name. Long wavy brunette hair falling to her white shoulders, exotic looking brown eyes and high cheekbones, impossibly full lips, unbelievable figure. A little heavier than the average model, thank God. How much of her was real? The breasts were fake, had to be. He realized he was gaping at her when she smiled slyly. “So, which did you settle on?” Jack nodded towards her shopping bag. She sat very close to him on the bench and he could smell her light perfume. Damn it, everything about her was sexy, down to her scent. “Oh, well, that’s for me to know…” She winked and he couldn’t help laughing a little. He shook his head at himself. “You’re tough, lady, you know that? You should come with a warning label.” Lucy wrinkled her brow and folded her arms across her chest. 3

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“Tough? Why Detective, whatever could you mean?” “You know damned well what I mean. Do you make a habit of torturing men you don’t know? Oops, forget I said that—it’s your job, isn’t it?” “Was it torture? I’m delighted.” She snickered. “Sometimes I forget to leave it at the office. Now, Detective…?” “McGuire. John. My friends call me Jack. You are welcome to do so.” “Why thank you, Mr. Jack McGuire. What was it you want to discuss with me? Oh, wait, let me guess. Could it be that a man I dated a few times was murdered two weeks ago? Come on, Jack, I’ve spoken to every law enforcement official and FBI agent in LA—probably a few tabloid reporters posing as cops, too. There’s nothing left to say.” “Actually, Ms. St. John, I’m fairly certain that no one expects me to learn more from speaking with you. But they had to give me something to do. I’m leaving the force, moving back to New York. You are my last interview. The clock stops in about…” He looked at his watch. “…three hours.” A look of concern flashed briefly across her face. Jack laughed at himself. Surely she couldn’t care where he went, even if he lived or died. She’d forget him five minutes after talking with him. “Still, I have a work ethic. So, I know you’ve gone over this a hundred times, but sometimes it’s question one hundred and one….” Lucy looked thoughtful, and serious, as she pushed her hand through her hair. “How did you find me today? Who told you where I’d be?” “Trade secret.” “See that café across the street, Mr. McGuire? There are at least two photographers taking our pictures this very moment. That’s their trade secret. Hoping to catch me with someone interesting, or looking tired, or fat, or wearing a bad outfit.” She sighed deeply. Jack had never felt 4

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much sympathy for the plight of the stars, but he could see that the lifestyle might be taking its toll on this one. “Well, I guess they’re disappointed on all counts, because I’m not interesting, you’re not fat, and you look fucking amazing in that dress.” And out of that dress, holy shit… To his horror, Jack felt a rush of heat rise to his cheeks. Lucy widened her eyes and looked at Jack for what seemed like an eternity. “Meet me for a drink later? I’ll tell you what I’ve told the others, which isn’t much, I’m afraid.” Jack suppressed a groan. He wanted nothing more than to see her again, and then every minute after that. But he knew he was wasting his time. The woman didn’t know anything, except how to give a man a hard-on. “All right, I appreciate it. You name the place and the time.” Lucy reached into her purse, pulled out a pen, and reached for Jack’s hand. She uncurled his fingers and wrote an address and phone number on his palm. He rolled his eyes and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small notebook, waving it in front of her face. “Sorry. I never do things the easy way.” Her dimples sprang to life with her smile, and Jack swore she must be able to hear his heart pounding in his chest. “Is seven o’clock all right?” “Fine. Seven.” Lucy stood and straightened her tiny sundress. Jack stood and pulled on his jacket. Lucy extended her hand and he shook it. She signaled to her driver, who rushed out of the limo. Jack watched in intense pleasure as Lucy wriggled into the back seat and stretched out her impossibly long legs. Lucy’s rather large female chauffeur gave him the once-over before shutting her door. Jack stared at the dark glass and was ready to turn away when the window silently lowered. Lucy stuck her head out. “Seven o’clock, we said?” Jack laughed lightly. “That’s right.” 5

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“How about dinner? What do you like to eat? I make a mean pizza.” Jack realized his mouth was hanging open again and slapped himself mentally. “Pizza would be good. I’m from Brooklyn. We like pizza.” Lucy smiled. “I’m from Brooklyn, too. Dress comfortably, Detective.” The car glided away and Jack was left staring at his palm in amazement. “Holy shit.” *

*

*

Lucy leaned back against the cool leather of the car, closed her eyes, and sighed. She knew Patsy would have something to say about Jack McGuire. It took all of five seconds. “Hot. Definitely hot. Looks like Keanu Reeves, except for the bad suit and messed up hair.” “And those blue eyes. God, I didn’t know eyes actually came that color.” Patsy let out a belly laugh. “Yeah, and he doesn’t seem the type to wear contacts for effect. So who the hell is he?” “Cop.” “Not another one? I thought that had calmed down a bit. Well, he’s finer than the rest, that’s for sure. If you don’t want him, you can let Patsy have a taste.” “Back off, baby. Who says I don’t want him?” “Lucy, it’s me. You wouldn’t know what to do with a real man if he lay naked in front of you. These egotistical coke-head pretty boys out here…” “I know, I know. Why do you think I haven’t dated anyone since Wayne?” Lucy shuddered at the memory of that nightmare. “Anyway, Jack’s just coming over to ask some questions about Wayne. On a whim, I said I’d make pizza, you know, just to make it a little chummier.” 6

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“Pizza. Very cute. From the look on his face, I’d say he’s going to be very, very hungry. For more than pizza. Like, a little Lucy for dessert.” “That’s the idea.” Patsy stopped the limo at a red light and turned around fully to study Lucy’s expression. Lucy stuck out her tongue. “If you say ‘you go, girl,’ I will fire you.” “You go, girl.” Lucy groaned. What was she doing? She hadn’t even bothered asking to see a badge. The guy could be anyone—a reporter, a paparazzi, a madman. But she was willing to take the risk, because he could be the one to make the breakthrough, as she thought of it. Lucy prayed it would work. She was fine with men if they were behind the camera, watching her on a runway, looking at her layout in a magazine, or even flirting with her. But kiss—no, she corrected—make love to a man she didn’t know or care about? If she didn’t figure out how to make it convincing, she could say goodbye to her acting career. The humiliation of her love scene audition made her stomach clench every time she thought of it, which was daily. Spencer Dunsten, box-office gold, leaning in to kiss her neck and run his finger along the swell of her breast. She had squealed so loudly he had jumped back three feet. The director had kindly given her five more chances, but the result was the same. Her agent had called with the news. “He said you need to work on the whole frigid business. Never expected it, given your modeling experience.” Lucy had cried for the better part of the day. Now, she was less than a week away from rehearsals on a second chance. She’d finally won a role from a different director. Mercifully, the audition hadn’t included as much as a kiss. But it seemed like every other scene of Love Among the Ruins had archaeologist Mark Roarke’s 7

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hands on her breasts, his tongue thrust down her throat, and his dick rubbing against her leg. Then there was The Scene. Lucy didn’t have a clue how she would pull it off. “Patsy?” “Hmm?” Her friend pulled into the long drive up to Lucy’s estate. “Do you think they actually do it in the movies—sex, I mean? I read that they don’t, but when you’re lying there, naked, I mean…” “You’re just thinking about this now? Didn’t you go to that famous London school for this stuff? Never had to fake-fuck anyone in a play or anything?” “I never ended up with those roles. Except once, and I played opposite my boyfriend.” “Oh, honey. Well, I’m sure the director will tell you what to do. It’s that woman, right? She’s supposed to be great.” “Uh huh. Maybe she’ll do the scene for me.” Or maybe, Lucy thought, I can beat this. With the help of one Jack McGuire. Lucy had been nearly speechless when he approached her on Rodeo Drive, charmingly uncomfortable, asking her for a moment of her time. He had actually licked his lips in nervousness. She moaned at the memory of his low sexy voice. And the look on his face as he watched her fashion show. But she needed more than his appreciative glances. She’d have to convince him very quickly to get on a plane to Mexico. And she knew of two ways of trying to get to him. She’d have to be sexy as hell, and offer him money. Because he seemed like the kind of guy who really liked sex. And everyone liked money. Well, she knew how to dispense it.

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CHAPTER 2

“Say that again. I must have a bad cell.” “You heard me. I’m having dinner at Lucetta St. John’s house. I’m in the driveway right now.” “Holy…” Schneider’s voice trailed off. “Lucky son of a bitch. What a way to go out.” “Asshole, why didn’t you warn me about her?” “What are you talking about? Come on, you didn’t know who she is? Don’t you watch TV?” “I don’t watch entertainment news. Schneider, I’m not up to this. What the hell am I going to talk to her about?” “Jack, it’s not a date. You’re supposed to interview her about Wayne. I think you can handle that.” “Right, right. It’s just that it seemed like a date when she asked me. I’m being an idiot. It’s that lingerie shop. Screwed with my head.” “Lingerie shop?” 9

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“Oh, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow. By the way, I don’t think she knows a thing about Wayne’s murder.” Jack snapped his phone shut without waiting for his partner’s response. This is ridiculous, he thought, climbing out of his car. He rang the buzzer on the iron gate. A sing-song female voice rang out. “Please identify yourself.” “Jack McGuire for Ms. St. John.” “Lucy! Your hottie’s here! Get down here. Oh shit, I think the intercom is still on.” Jack grinned at the device. Hottie? He wasn’t sure he’d ever been called a hottie. A buzzer sounded and the gate clicked open. Jack got back in his car and drove up the sweeping drive to a house that looked like something out of an old Rat-Pack movie. He rang the bell and looked at the amazing view of the city below, just coming into twinkling view in the dusk. The chauffeur opened the door and held out her hand while eyeing him head to toe. “I’m Patsy,” she announced proudly. “Ms. St. John’s assistant.” “I’m Jack.” “Got that far. Lucy’s around the back.” Patsy led Jack along a winding path through beautiful grounds, past tennis courts, and ending at an enormous deck overlooking a winding pool and cascading waterfall. Burning torches surrounded the deck, which was adorned with at least a dozen plastic pink flamingoes, huge tiki statues, and flashy retro furniture. A small table in the corner of the deck was set for two, and Jack felt his stomach clench up. It sure looked like a date. And he was totally underdressed. He silently cursed his choice of worn jeans, black T-shirt, and sandals. “Be right out!” Lucy stuck her head out the sliding patio door so quickly he didn’t even get a chance to respond before she disappeared 10

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back into what he supposed was the kitchen. “She’ll be right out,” Patsy said seriously. “Got that far.” Jack smiled. Patsy smiled back. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Queen Latifah?” “Yep, all the time. Hasn’t done shit for me. Anyone ever tell you that you look like Keanu Reeves?” “My mother. I thought it was hopeful thinking on her part, Ms….” “Patsy.” “Ms. Patsy.” “No, just Patsy.” She laughed. “Ms. Patsy makes me sound like something out of Gone With The Wind. Okay, I get the night off, so you have fun.” Patsy leaned in closely and whispered in a serious tone. “You hurt her feelings, and you’re a dead man.” Patsy disappeared into the house and he heard quick whispers between the women. He took a seat in a lounge chair and closed his eyes, trying to let the sounds of the waterfall relax him. “Hello!” Jack turned and smiled, then felt his face freeze up at the sight of her. How could a woman he had seen nearly nude look just as sexy in jeans and a T-shirt? Well, the jeans started a few inches below her navel, and the T-shirt seemed to be made for a ten-year-old. And Jack was pretty sure those gravity-defying breasts weren’t being supported by a bra. He eyed her head to shoeless toes, and she was doing the same. “Gosh.” She looked at him oddly. “Gosh?” He wasn’t sure how to respond. “You’re all, well, buff, aren’t you? Is that from sports or something? We still have to do something with that hair.” “We do? Like what?” “Like take you to my stylist. First thing in the morning, before our flight.” 11

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“Our flight?” Jack realized his mouth was hanging open again, but wasn’t quite sure he could do anything about it. “Sit tight and I’ll get our drinks.” She ran into the house and emerged quickly with a martini shaker and glasses. “What do you think of the place? I decorated it myself.” “Very swank.” Jack was having a hell of a time keeping his eyes off her breasts as they moved beneath her shirt, rubbing her nipples into hard peaks. She was very bouncy, literally and figuratively, he thought, as he watched her flit around, all quick movements, restless. Oh my God, she seems nervous! Why would she possibly be nervous around me? Must be drugs, cocaine. Weren’t all models on something? “You’re making fun of me. I have a thing for tikis and retro stuff.” “I love it. Swank was a compliment, seriously. Just a little unexpected from a supermodel.” “I’m not a supermodel. I’m a B-list model. And I won’t say I’m an aspiring actress, because that makes everyone want to vomit. My acting sucks, anyway. Actually, what I really want to do…” She shook her head and looked embarrassed. “What? Go ahead.” Jack leaned back in the chair, amazed at how the woman was becoming more complicated, more adorable by the second. Lucy shook her head again, brushing his question away with a wave of her hand. She poured their drinks and handed him a martini glass. “Peach. My own creation.” She sat and propped her head on one hand, waiting for his reaction to the drink. “I’ve never had a martini in my life. I feel very grown up.” He winked and took a sip. “Surprisingly good.” Lucy clapped her hands in glee and reached for her glass. “I was afraid you might be a beer-only kind of guy.” “It shows that much? You can take the boy out of Brooklyn… Dad pretty much took me to Kelly’s right after I was off formula.” 12

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“Kelly’s? You’re kidding.” She laughed. “My brother runs the pizza parlor across the street.” “Sciochetti’s? That’s the best pizza in the world.” Lucy bowed her head regally. “But of course. Lucetta Sciochetti, at your service.” “I’ll be damned.” Jack smiled and Lucy smiled back. He suddenly had to look away from her. Something was terribly wrong. He was comfortable, having a good time. With a woman waaaay out of his league. Jack knew he’d blow it somehow. It’s not a date, it’s not a date. “Lucy, what am I doing here?” He realized his voice had grown so soft she may not have even heard him. He hoped she hadn’t. Her smile grew sly and she bit on her full bottom lip. The sight was so sexy it immediately sent heat coursing to his crotch. Jack let out a deep breath. “What was that fashion show about today?” Lucy laughed and took another sip of martini. “I guess I was trying to get your attention.” “Uh huh. And how often do you strip down in front of men for attention?” “Pretty much daily.” She nodded seriously. “Oh, right. Wait, that’s not what I mean. The modeling’s one thing. Today, well, there was just me…” “I was practicing.” Jack noticed a flush sweep to her cheeks. “Practicing modeling? Thought you pretty much had that nailed.” “No, I was practicing…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Seducing a man.” She opened one narrowed eye to get his reaction. “Shit. Rewind please. Better go check on the pizza.” She jumped up and Jack turned to watch her go into the kitchen. Lucy returned a minute later. “So…we were talking about 13

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Brooklyn.” She poured him another martini. Jack realized that for at least the fourth time today, his mouth must be hanging open. “You were telling me some ridiculous story about needing to practice seduction.” “It’s not ridiculous. It’s very serious business. I have a lot of seducing to do in my movie, and I’m not very good at it. I can walk down a runway and pose in front of a camera, but when it comes to the real thing…I mean, one on one…” She shrugged. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why would you think you need to do anything but stand there, looking just the way you do now, to seduce a man? I mean, for chrissakes, you’re unbelievable.” “Have you ever had to fake hot sex in front of a hundred people? I mean, act aroused with a stranger? Because I can’t seem to fake arousal. I can cry and scream and laugh, but when it comes to arousal…” “Honey, if you say arousal one more time, I’m going to have to excuse myself. Honestly.” Lucy laughed. “You’re really adorable, Jack McGuire. I don’t have much fun anymore. I’m on guard all the time, wondering what they want from me.” “Who? Men? Suppose they’re after your tiki collection? I don’t have much fun anymore either, Ms. Sciochetti. Which is why I’m leaving LA. And it brings me back to my question. Why am I here, having fun with you? And what was that about getting on a plane?” “You’re here to ask me about Wayne, remember?” “Which we could have done in five minutes in that shop. Am I here for you to practice on? Because I have to tell you, it may not be a fair test of your skills. I’m very easily aroused. “ “Are you?” Lucy seemed somewhat breathless and Jack’s erection was screaming at him. What the hell would she do if he kissed her? She’d probably slap him. “Well, that’s not exactly why you’re here. I 14

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want to hire you.” Jack’s blood rushed from his cock back to his head. The disappointment was crushing. At least he hadn’t done anything completely stupid. Okay, this is the moment you knew would come. When you’d feel like an asshole for imagining it was a date. “Hire me? Well, I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time, Ms. Sciochetti. I’ll only be between jobs for a few weeks. LAPD to NYPD.” Jack cursed himself, hearing the slightly bitter tone to his voice. Try to act a bit more sophisticated, asshole. Lucy ignored his answer. “I’m going to get our dinner. You okay for a few minutes?” Jack nodded and poured himself the last of her peach brew. He groaned when he heard the soft strains of his favorite Etta James tune waft onto the deck from hidden speakers in the gardens below. It was all so fucking sophisticated he wanted to scream. Yes, he definitely needed to get out of LA. *

*

*

Lucy looked out the window and groaned. No interest. Damn it. She was sure he had liked her, was even flirting a little. “See? You can’t even seduce a man on your own goddamned back porch.” Now what was she going to do? She sighed. He really was her only chance. She’d have to appeal to his heroic protective streak, and she was fairly sure Jack McGuire had a big one. He probably had a big everything, she thought, lightheaded. The man was difficult to look at for too long. She had worked like the devil not to drool as she took in his strong arms and chest, his slender waist, and muscled thighs pushing at his jeans. He’d know how to cure her nerves. If only she could just ask him, beg him, to have a fling. 15

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Lucy pulled the pizza out of the oven with a practiced motion and scurried out onto the porch, setting it in front of Jack. She moved back into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a salad and a six-pack of beer, which she unceremoniously plunked on the table. “Help yourself, Mr. McGuire. Is that beer okay?” “I guess asking an Irishman if Guinness is okay is like asking…hmm, well I can’t seem to be clever, but yes, it’s fine.” Lucy breathed out a sigh of relief and poured him a beer with the skill of a girl who had worked a bar, then served him salad and pizza. Jack ate in silence, occasionally groaning in pleasure. Lucy thought she’d scream if he didn’t say something. “So, Jack, you can’t be lured into one little private job before you move back to New York?” “Nope. Really good pizza. Just like being home.” Lucy started to panic. I’m losing him. He’s already out of here. “If you need the name of some good PIs in the area, I’ll be happy to write them down.” “I don’t need a private investigator.” Jack looked up. “I don’t understand.” “I need a companion. A male friend.” “A male friend? Like an escort service? What the hell makes you think…? Wait a minute, this is ridiculous. Why could you possibly need to hire a man?” “Someone trustworthy. Just for a few days, to help me with my lines.” “You need a Boy Scout to help you rehearse? I’m missing something here.” Lucy cleared her throat and tried again. She could feel the heat flushing her cheeks. He’d think she was the biggest loser on the planet. “I’m not a great actress, Jack, but I really want to make it in this business. And no one’s going to offer a centerfold a Disney role. I have 16

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to play a woman who’s crazy in love with a guy. I’ve lost parts because I just can’t seem to fake it—you know, the arousal part. That word. You just seemed like someone I could manage to enjoy kissing, even though we’d never be a couple. If I could practice on you…” She shrugged. You sound pathetic, Lucy. He thinks you’re a wacko loser. “What? Did you just compliment me or insult me?” “It’s a compliment, trust me. Will you think about going to Mexico with me for a few days?” “Let me get this straight. You want me to go to Mexico with you, help you rehearse your script, which involves kissing, which you are afraid you won’t be able to pull off for the real movie?” “Right!” Lucy sighed in relief. “See, just a practice buddy.” “Tomorrow? Mexico?” “Would two-hundred thousand do it?” Lucy saw the shock. “Three hundred? I’m sorry, I don’t have any idea what you charge. I didn’t mean to offend you.” “The going rate for a PI is about a thousand a day, plus expenses. I don’t know what a male whore gets.” Jack threw up his hands. He finally laughed. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Oh, my God!” “It’s not like I’m frigid or anything.” Lucy tried to bite back the tears. She was humiliated. “No, I didn’t quite think so.” Jack laughed lightly and then stopped cold. “Lucy, what’s wrong? Oh, please, no, don’t cry. I’m not laughing at you, honestly. It’s just every guy’s dream, and you’re offering me money—” “You’ll do it? That means you’ll do it? Oh, thank you, thank you. I promise, the hotel is gorgeous, and it’s only for a few days. You can snorkel, and if you dive… Oh, let me get your ticket.” Lucy ran inside the house and emerged with a ticket in his name. Jack looked at her in shock. “When did you do this?” 17

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“I have a really good travel agent. They came about ten minutes before you arrived.” “Amazing.” “We’re going to Playa del Carmen, well, a bit farther down the coast, near the ruins where we’ll be filming. Hope you like the beach?” Jack continued to stare numbly at the ticket. “I’ll find a way to cope, I guess.” It wasn’t until he was driving home that he realized he’d actually agreed to take money to help the most beautiful woman in the world learn to kiss a stranger. And he’d never asked her a single question about Wayne DeGroene’s murder.

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CHAPTER 3

Jack popped open a beer and walked onto the bright balcony of his incredible suite. Vista del Mar was a far cry from his normal Mexican haunts. It barely seemed like there was another soul on the property, although he could see a few couples and a family sunning on the broad white beach several hundred yards away. The impossibly tranquil, clear, turquoise water called to him. He wanted nothing more than to toast himself for hours and then plunge into the blue and float in bliss. So what’s stopping you? One Lucetta St. Johns, waiting for him on the beach, no doubt looking like the swimsuit model she was. He needed a little more time to figure it out, calm his libido, get a handle on things. Jack pulled off his shirt, kicked off his sandals, and stretched out on a lounge chair, letting the hot Mexican sun warm his skin. In a minute, the image of Lucy, parading around in a black bra and thong, thigh-high stockings and four-inch heels, washed across his whole body. Jack indulged himself fully, imagining her coming to him, 19

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stripping off those frills, stripping him down slowly, pressing her mouth onto his, then running those incredible lips down his torso, groaning with appreciation and telling him how amazing he was as she took his throbbing cock into her mouth… “Whatcha thinking about?” Jack jumped and dropped his beer. The bottle shattered on the patio. “You seem to drop things a lot.” Lucy tilted her head and smiled. She stepped over the railing of the patio with her long legs and stretched out on the chair next to him. Jack knew that, once again, his mouth was hanging open. Yep, there she was, looking as good as she had as the centerfold of his sports magazine. Three tiny triangles of sheer white fabric held together by dental floss. “Don’t you knock? You ruined a completely wonderful fantasy.” Jack pushed his hand through his hair and sneered. “Dare I ask what the fantasy was about?” Lucy ran her tongue around her lips provocatively. All right, lady, the gloves are off. “Oral sex. The fantasy was about a beautiful woman sucking on my cock. Satisfied?” Jack stared at her in what he hoped looked like a challenge. He prayed he didn’t look as dorky as he felt. Lucy cleared her throat. She ran her eyes down his bare chest and stomach, farther down to his bulging crotch, and back to his eyes. Jack matched her look, taking time to stare at the breasts that made him want to get on his knees and beg for a touch, a taste. “Lucy, can I ask you a very personal question?” “I’m still trying to get past the ‘woman sucking on your cock’ thing, but go ahead, I’ll try to answer.” “Let’s see, how do I ask this? What’s real?” “That’s a little philosophical for me.” Jack laughed. “What’s real on you? How much of this,” he ran his gaze down her body, “is yours.” 20

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“Oh, that’s original. Trust me, Mr. McGuire, if I were going to let someone cut me open, I’d have ordered up something better than a 36C.” Jack narrowed his eyes. “Well, I’m not sure I believe that, but I’ll let it pass.” “I’m not sure if I’m flattered or offended. My turn. Who is she?” “Who?” “The one who made you run, leave New York. ’Cause you didn’t come to LA to become an actor or model.” Shit. She’s not stupid at all. Beautiful, quirky, smart, and sexy. “My ex-wife. And her boyfriend.” “Oh. Sorry.” Jack shook his head. “Trust me, I’m better off than he is.” “Come on, Jack, let’s hit the beach.” Jack sighed. It was excruciating looking at her, and he wondered if he faced a four-day hard-on. It would be some kind of world record, he was sure. “I’ll come to the beach if you do me a favor.” A kiss, right now. Just one touch of those luscious lips. With my arms wrapped around that waist. “Anything.” She smiled. Jack shook his head and ran his hand through his hair in disgust. “Never mind. Go swimming. I’ll join you in a bit. I have a few things to take care of.” Why the hell did you agree to this? *

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Lucy tapped her foot impatiently. “What’s wrong with him, Patsy? He was supposed to meet me at the beach and blew me off. Now he’s late for dinner.” “Here he comes, looking like a GQ cover. Damn, that man is fine.” Lucy turned and took in a quick breath. “Fine” didn’t quite do it. 21

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His blue eyes flashed brightly against skin that was already a shade deeper from the sun. He wore beautifully tailored pants and a crisp white shirt, opened just a bit at the chest, sleeves rolled up. And when he got to within a few feet of them, Lucy could smell his spicy cologne. “Gosh.” Patsy and Jack looked at her at the same time. Patsy laughed. “Did she just say ‘gosh,’ or was it my imagination? How about ‘shucks’? What’s wrong with you, Lucy?” Jack ignored the comment and nodded to them. “Ms. Duvall, Ms. Sciochetti. A lovely evening.” Lucy’s nerve endings lit up. Something was terribly wrong. Jack’s easy way was gone. “Who are you, mister, and what did you do with Jack McGuire?” Jack ignored Lucy and signaled to the bartender for a Scotch. There was complete, crushing silence until he got his drink and took a sip. He moved to within a foot of Lucy and held her gaze, without speaking. Lucy felt her whole body tingle. Jack kept looking at Lucy as he spoke to Patsy. “Ms. Duvall, I was wondering if you’d mind if I had a moment alone with Lucy? We’ll return shortly.” “That’s fine.” Patsy snickered. “I’ll just mosey on over there.” “No need. We’ll take a walk, if that’s all right with Lucy?” Jack reached for Lucy’s hand as if she were a child. She took it and he pulled her down the path away from the bar, towards the beach. Lucy’s blood coursed through her veins, pounded in her head. “What’s going on, Jack?” She heard her voice shake. She pulled at his hand to slow him down, but he yanked her forcefully along the winding path, past the replica Mayan statues and flickering torches. When they were out of sight of the dinner crowd, he stopped and turned. He was furious. His eyes were narrowed to blazing midnight blue 22

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slits and his mouth was drawn in a tight line. Lucy saw his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. Jack glanced at her quickly from head to toe and groaned. “You look great. I could kill you for looking great right now.” He grabbed her hand again and pulled her down to the end of the path, onto the beach. Lucy stumbled in the sand and reached down and pulled off her heels. Jack didn’t pause, pulling her away from the resort. Finally, when the echoes of the mariachi music seemed very far away, he stopped. “I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you want,” she lied. “What you don’t know is that Patsy followed us down here, and all I have to do is call her—” “She’s approximately twenty feet to my left. She’s your bodyguard as well as your chauffeur. We sized one another up the first minute we met. Would you like me to call her?” Lucy’s heart pounded. So, he wasn’t going to kill her. And he wasn’t going to molest her. But he looked like he wanted to do both. “Jack?” She could barely hear her own voice. “What’s wrong?” “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but it’s ridiculous. I feel like an idiot. I’ve never humiliated myself like this, at least not since I was in love with my second grade teacher. Here’s your check.” He tore up the check and let it flutter to the sand. “I don’t care how beautiful you are, I can’t sit around waiting for you to tell me to kiss you. It’s unnatural. I decide when I’m going to kiss a woman. Got that?” Jack pushed her against a palm tree and held her gaze. “Please, Jack, it wasn’t an insult. Honestly. I was desperate. I’m supposed to be the siren in this movie, this week. I’ll freeze up and get fired, I know it.” She sighed and a tear fell on her cheek. “I just wanted you to help me unfreeze. Warm me up a little.” She shook her head. He didn’t understand. How could he? The man probably hadn’t frozen up 23

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around a member of the opposite sex since he was thirteen. “Practice,” she tried again. And realized how stupid she sounded. “Why me?” His voice sounded very far away. “Why do you think? You’re hot.” Lucy suddenly realized how close he was, how good he smelled, and looked. “I wasn’t going to pick someone I didn’t want to…want to…you know.” Lucy saw him move in another inch, saw him look at her lips, then back into her eyes. She felt the air rush from her lungs. His eyes…she could look at them for hours and be very happy. Heat built between her legs; her nipples pushed against her tight dress. He was close, so close. God, if he would just move a little closer, touch her. Lucy looked at his lips, moistened hers with her tongue. “Are you practicing on me now, Lucetta?” Jack reached behind her neck and pulled her in close. The warmth of his hand sent waves of pleasure down her body. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Well, if you are, you’re doing just fine.” Jack leaned in until Lucy could feel his hair brush her cheek. She gasped, aching for him to kiss her. “I’ll let you know what I decide tomorrow.” Jack suddenly turned and walked down the beach, leaving her breathless. She heard a chuckle from behind and cursed. “Patsy, you bitch,” she mumbled. “Just making sure you’re okay. That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

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CHAPTER 4

After an hour of tossing and turning in confusion, anger, pleasure, and excitement, Jack gave up on sleep and slipped onto the dark balcony in his briefs, beer in hand. “Idiot.” He’d been an inch away from kissing the most beautiful woman in the world. And she had wanted him to, desperately, he was sure. But for her goddamned practice or because she liked him? It had seemed so utterly impossible at the time, he hadn’t been able to make himself do it. Looking back, he realized that Lucetta Sciochetta had actually said he was hot. Yep, she had called him hot. I’ll give you something to practice, Lucy. Jack heard a twig snap near his balcony and reached for his gun out of instinct, only to remember he was off duty, way off duty, he thought. Lucy peeked around the corner and he grabbed her arm. “Oh, God, don’t shoot me!” she squealed. 25

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“I don’t have a gun. Stop sneaking up on me. Can’t you use the door, like normal people?” Lucy leaned against the balcony railing, still in her dinner dress. She looked very wobbly. “Honey, how much did you drink tonight?” Jack reached over the railing and easily lifted her into the air. He arranged her in a lounge chair, trying to ignore the quick glimpse of black underwear he caught as she crossed her legs. “Jack, you’re in your underwear! Oooh, let me see! I’ve thought about you in your underwear. What do you think of that, Detecative?” “I think we should see about getting some water and aspirin for you, Ms. Sciochetti. ’Cause you obviously don’t hold your liquor very well. Did you eat anything?” “I beg your pardon? I only had…” Lucy held up seven fingers, then changed it to eight, then settled on nine. “Like that many. All different kinds. One was bright pink! Very pretty.” “Oh hell, that’s not good. Bright pink drinks in Mexico are a bad idea. Lucy, see that bright star? Don’t close your eyes, but just stare up at that star. Don’t go anywhere, and I’ll be right back, okay?” Jack kept an eye on Lucy as he rummaged through his things for aspirin, and grabbed a bottle of water. He found himself humming and stopped cold. What’s wrong with you, idiot? You’re happy she’s drunk? Or just happy she’s here? Uh oh. “Here you go. Now I want you to sip this water very, very slowly. Understand?” “Mmm hmm. Jack, I’m kinda dizzy. Don’t feel so good, actually.” “Just keep looking at that star, honey. And sip. That’s good.” Jack pulled a lounge chair close to Lucy’s and reached out and held her hand. “Okay. Okay. I’m okay.” “Shhhhh.” Jack rubbed her hand and felt an intense rush of warmth 26

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to his heart. He stared up at the star with her. She spoke his thought aloud. “What are you wishing for, Jack?” The warmth around his heart turned to an ache. No. Oh no, please, God. Not that. Not from lust to anger to…to whatever this was in the space of a day. Impossible. “I was wishing for a whatdya-call-it thingey. You know what I mean?” Jack laughed. “Sure, I get you.” He pulled her hand to his lips and pressed them lightly on her palm. She didn’t seem to notice. “You’re laughing at me. Damn it, what’s the word? Well, anyway, like, I’d be standing on Rodeo looking all whatever and you’d be like, ‘whoooaaa, dude, look at her,’ and I’d go, ‘hey you, I think you’re really hot’ and you’d go like, ‘whoooaaa, dude, this is cool’ and then we’d go out and have a regular date and then you’d hold my hand and we’d dance and whatnot and then you’d lean in like you did on the beach except you wouldn’t be pissed off and you’d kiss me. Oh, God, you’d really kiss me. Like the kiss of all time. It would last for like an hour. And I’d fall apart in your arms. What’s the word for that?” “I don’t say ‘whoa dude’ very much,” Jack mumbled. His heart lurched a little as he looked at Lucy’s lovely profile. She’d hammered the first nail in his coffin, he could feel it hit. He sighed heavily. “Maybe you mean a second chance?” “Like that, a second chance. Well, I just came to see if you left Mexico. But you’re still here. So that’s good. I’ll go back to my room now.” She closed her eyes and began snoring softly. Jack carried her into the bedroom and laid her on one of two huge beds. He pulled off her heels and spread a light blanket over her. Her eye make-up was smeared from crying and he wiped some away with his thumb. He leaned in and pressed his lips on her forehead. “Goodnight, Lucetta. I’ll let you practice on me tomorrow.” 27

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To his amazement, she answered him. “Thank you, Jack.” *

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She was gone when Jack woke. He found a note near the phone. “J. Sorry about last night. I’m going to the beach. Come with?” Jack smiled and sighed. “What the hell is she going to do?” He felt a slight fluttering in his gut at the thought of what Lucy’s practice might entail. If he stayed, and approached this like a job, then he was no better than a prostitute. Well, a stupid prostitute, now that he’d ripped up the check. The thought he’d almost accepted money to be here floored him. On the other hand, if he stayed to help Lucy because he liked her, because she was incredibly sexy, then he was…what would that make him? A patsy? A sleazebag, looking for some easy sex? He shrugged. Maybe there were worse fates than bedding down a model for a few days. He’d just keep his emotions out of it and be fine. More than fine. He moaned in anticipation. Jack called for room-service breakfast and hurried through his eggs and coffee. When he sauntered down to the beach, he found her at the far end near a secluded cove, under an umbrella, reading, looking very serious. She smiled sheepishly at him and he handed her a cold bottle of water. “How’s the patient today?” Jack sat on the towel at her feet and she looked over her sunglasses. “All things considered, I’m not doing so badly. I choked down some food and coffee and feel somewhat human. How do I look?” “None the worse for wear. Shit, you’re stunning. And I’m really very tired of saying it. You must be tired of hearing it.” “It’s different when it’s a friend. You can’t imagine what they do to photos—I’ve seen shots of myself I barely recognize. Boobs bigger, moles erased, stomach flatter, funny bulges gone—it’s amazing. Sometimes I really want to quit. Because…” She shook her head. 28

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“Sorry, I’m babbling again. Thanks for not telling me how disgusting I must have been last night.” “Go on, I’m interested.” “Well, it’s just that the industry is one big lie to women who don’t have a personal stylist and expensive clothes and all day to work out and someone to airbrush out imperfections. It’s designed to make them buy things so they’ll be okay somehow. And there are times when I really hate being part of that. It’s why I wanted to try acting—well one reason. Seemed a little less…phony. Well, at least more up front in its phoniness.” “I think I understand. And do you like acting?” Lucy pulled off her glasses and took a sip of water. “Since you already know more about me in one day than most men I’ve known for years, I may as well tell you. I don’t. School was fine. But the real thing—I’m not comfortable. It doesn’t feel natural. Modeling feels natural.” “Then why do it? You can’t need the money.” “You can’t imagine what a role like this one pays, Jack. And I don’t want to be washed up at forty. Forty! I’ll be lucky to get a modeling job at thirty! If this works, and there’s a sequel…” She shook her head. “Then I’ll have enough to do what I really want.” “Which is?” She shook her head and blushed. “Later. Much later. Maybe after a few drinks.” She winked. “You’re on the wagon for a while, lady.” “Does that mean you’re staying?” Jack sighed. “For a while. Let’s see how it goes. This is very weird for me, Lucetta, just try to keep that in mind. You make me feel so cheap.” He winked. “I guess I’m on the clock now?” Lucy giggled and waved a curled-up book at him. “Your script?” Jack lay on one side, head propped in his hand. 29

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“I fucking hate it. I get to throw myself at this Roarke ass while he dodges bullets and finds incredible Mayan treasures. “Mmm. How do I get to be Roarke?” “I was hoping you’d ask that. Let’s see, the first scene I need help with takes place on the beach, conveniently enough.” Lucy flipped through the book to a dog-eared page and handed it to Jack. “Read it and weep.” Jack sat up and cleared his throat. “They sit inches apart. Roarke bandages up Rebecca’s bloody foot.” “Why is your foot bloody?” “I fell down a pyramid.” Jack laughed. “If you fell down a Mayan pyramid, you’d be dead. Why are they on the beach?” “It takes place at a site down the coast, Tulum. The pyramid is on a cliff right above a spectacular beach. That’s where we’re filming a lot of it.” “Rebecca is in pain, but Roarke’s closeness and caresses are too much for her to endure.” ‘Roarke, look at me.’ “He looks up and finds her staring at his lips. They kiss. They make love.” “That’s it? He looks up and they kiss and make love? That’s your direction?” “Well, I suppose Marsha will tell us what she wants there.” Jack threw down the script. “Lucy, you’re worried about nothing. The director will take care of it, and your costar—well, I think I’ve seen his ass a few more times than I’ve wanted to. You’ll be fine.” I hate him all of a sudden. I really hate him. Lucy shook her head. “I can’t do it.” “All right then, come on down here.” Jack patted the blanket next to him. Lucy winced and took the spot next to Jack. “I’ll bandage up your 30

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foot, you act like you’re in pain, and then say your line.” “This is humiliating. Oh, all right.” Jack ripped the end off the beach towel and tried to look very concerned as he wrapped it around the arch of Lucy’s foot. They looked at each other and burst into laughter. And then the laughter subsided. But they continued to stare at one another, and Jack saw her eyes change and knew. They would kiss. And nothing on the planet would stop it. He whispered. “Say your line, Lucy.” Lucy licked her lips. “Roarke, look at me.” *

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Lucy’s head felt light and she knew it wasn’t her hangover. It took forever. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but somehow they ended up an inch away from one another. Jack tilted his head slightly and put his hand behind Lucy’s neck. “Lucetta,” he whispered. “Kiss me.” Lucy’s heart flopped in her chest and she closed her eyes and leaned in. She took in a quick breath and pressed her lips onto Jack’s. He moaned lowly, and Lucy felt encouraged. She moved her lips a bit and pulled at his bottom lip with hers. His moans increased. A wave of overwhelming desire welled up and took over. She attacked him, pulling his head in close and pushing her tongue into his mouth. She sucked and bit and savored the wonderful taste of him, the incredible feel. He let her explore and kept moaning in a way that increased Lucy’s lust. When he kissed back, when he took over, her world fell apart. Just like she knew it would. Throbbing, aching, wet, excited beyond belief from just a kiss. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Jack pushed her to the sand and fell onto her, kissing her thoroughly, in a way she’d never felt. He seemed desperate, crazy, plundering her mouth as if his life depended upon it. 31

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“Lucy, my God.” Jack held her face with both hands as he kissed her neck and flicked his hot tongue around her ear until she nearly screamed. The throbbing became compelling, and she found herself arching her crotch towards him, begging for a touch. Her nipples ached and pushed against her bathing suit top. “Touch me, Jack. Please, touch me.” He sat up and stared down at her. He was panting and sweating, his eyes burning with lust. Lucy looked down at his crotch and moaned when she saw his huge erection pushing at his shorts. “I want that.” Jack’s eyes grew wide. “What do you want? Tell me.” “That. You. All of you. Kiss me again.” “Roarke. Remember to call me Roarke.” He leaned down and attacked her mouth again. Lucy became desperate, running her hand down his stomach, feeling the silken hair beneath his waistband and running her fingernails through it until she found her prize. Enormous, he was enormous! “Oh, fuck.” Jack gritted his teeth and pushed his cock against her, rubbing himself on her leg. He sat up and took a deep breath. “Lucy, not here. Someone will see us.” He clenched his teeth and looked around. He maneuvered so that his back was towards the hotel and he sheltered Lucy from view. She stared up at him. “Umbrella.” “What?” “Move it. Hurry.” Jack arched a brow with a grin and repositioned the huge beach umbrella so it hid them from view. He sat back down and ran a finger along the thin strap of Lucy’s bathing suit top and then along the channel between her breasts. “Does that feel good?” “Not good enough.” Lucy panted. Jack untied her top and slowly pulled away the fabric. 32

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“Lucy.” He shook his head. She felt her heart sink. “What’s wrong? Not good?” Jack laughed softly. “You’re killing me. I think I’ve had this fantasy my whole life.” He slowly ran his hands up her stomach and onto her breasts, pinching both nipples, twisting and pulling. Lucy cried out. He massaged her breasts thoroughly, watching her face. She stared at his eyes until she had to squeeze hers shut from the exquisite torture. Her pussy ached intensely and she felt the moisture pour out. “I think I might…oooh…” “What?” “Come. Die.” “One would be good. The other we can’t have.” Jack leaned in and gently nibbled at one nipple, then the other. The nibbles turned to sucks and licks. “Oh, God, you can’t stop. Please don’t stop.” “Maybe we should take a break. I can barely think, but I know we don’t need photos of this in the tabloids.” “I really don’t care. Okay, I care a little, but not enough.” Jack grinned and worked his way down Lucy’s torso, licking and nibbling until he reached her thong. He pulled the fabric aside. “Whoa. Incredible.” “I imagined you’d say ‘whoa, dude,’” she gasped. Lucy screamed his name with the first press of his lips onto her pussy. “Shhhsh, or I’ll have to stop.” Lucy bit her lip and nodded. Jack returned to his caresses, licking her soaking wet folds, back and forth along the length, side to side against her clit as Lucy pounded her fist on the sand and arched up to meet his mouth. He finally began a sucking that sent waves of electricity coursing through her entire body. She clutched at his arm and turned her face onto the blanket to muffle her cry. 33

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“Oh, my God, oh, my God, Jack. Oh, my God.” He chuckled. “I get the idea.” “I don’t think you do. I’ve never, ever felt anything like that.” “Liar.” They were both breathing heavily and Jack smiled. “Breather.” He sat up and Lucy tied her top back on and leaned against him. They looked at the water in silence, their breathing gradually returning to normal. “Two things.” Jack sighed. “I’m sorry I doubted you. You are very real.” “Told you so.” Lucy laughed. “You’re pretty amazing, I mean down there, you know? It’s my turn, don’t you think? To satisfy that little oral fantasy of yours?” Jack shivered visibly. “That, we’ll save for inside. You just need to give me a few minutes to calm down. Maybe a few hours.” He turned and gave Lucy a light kiss. “Honesty, I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble with your movie.” “I don’t get it, but I guess I owe it to you. Of course, we didn’t really finish the scene. And there are about five more like it.” “Does that mean I’m still on the payroll?” Jack grinned and Lucy felt a bang in her chest. She suddenly realized why she hadn’t had a bit of trouble kissing this stranger. Because I really, really like him. Oh, no. Don’t let this happen. He’ll be gone in a few days. “Lucy? Is that it? Are we done?” He looked suddenly serious. Lucy let herself drift in his gorgeous blue eyes and fell deeper. I like you so much, Jack McGuire. “I guess we have a little more work to do. If you don’t mind?” Jack smiled. “I’ll get through somehow.”

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CHAPTER 5

Patsy wiped the sweat from her neck with a handkerchief and swore up a blue streak as they walked up the long road to the ancient Mayan site of Tulum. The dust was choking and the heat searing in the midday sun. Lizards gazed at them lazily from their rocky perches, and an occasional Quetzal bird glimmered in the tops of the palms. “Which of you Einsteins thought this one up? The middle of the day in the middle of August?” Patsy stopped and chugged more water. “Go ahead and catch up to your little playmate there. She’s aching to be with you.” “What’s that supposed to mean? Stop enjoying my pain, Patsy. I’m dying here. She’s got me turned upside down in one day. You must have seen this all a hundred times.” “Nope. I swear to my Maker, I’ve never seen anything like it. Men usually give up on her. I’m not messing with you, Jack. And it hasn’t even started, trust me. Wait until she realizes she’s in love with you. 35

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Okay, maybe not in love yet, but damned close to it.” “Bullshit.” Jack stared at Patsy for more, begging for more, but she shook her head and shooed him off. Jack caught up to Lucy, who was examining a small temple perched on the cliffside overlooking the magnificent turquoise Gulf of Mexico. “Incredible, isn’t it?” Jack glanced at her. “Yes, you are.” Lucy turned quickly and looked into his eyes. Jack pushed down a thousand words he longed to utter, fought off the urge to pull her close and whisper into her ear. To beg her to think of him as more than a body for hire. “I love this part of Mexico. I want to buy a resort here. And make it really fantastic. And buy an exquisite restaurant in New York for my parents. My brother could run it and…” She winced. “Go ahead, you can laugh. But that’s why I need this high-paying movie role.” “It sounds fantastic, honestly.” They walked through the ruins, stopping to examine the intricate writing and carvings of gods. Lucy ran her hand along the hieroglyphs in awe. “I wish I could read this. Sometimes I think if I just keep my hand here long enough, I’ll understand what it says.” “It probably says something like ‘Jose loves Trina.’” “Those don’t sound like Mayan names.” “Maybe it says, ‘Jack really likes Lucy.’” Jack stood still, praying for an answer. His heart raced as he looked at her, flushed from the heat, white tank top soaked with perspiration so her gorgeous breasts and dark, peaked nipples showed through, long legs tucked into miniscule shorts. Lucy bit her lip and stared back at him, not moving a muscle. He took a step forward. “Are you going to kiss me again, Jack?” Lucy’s voice trembled. 36

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“Would you like to practice a little more?” Jack moved in closer and Lucy backed against the ancient wall, sheltered from the sun by a carved overhang. “Well, I do have a scene at the site.” “What happens in the scene?” Jack leaned in close to Lucy, putting both hands against the wall over her shoulders. “Everything happens.” Jack pressed his lips on hers briefly. “Everything? Out here in the open?” “It’s kind of fierce and fast.” Lucy had trouble getting the words out. “Oh, hell, that sounds really good.” He groaned and felt his instant erection push against his shorts. “Yes, it does. Fierce and fast, Jack. Please.” It was too much. Jack pulled Lucy’s top off in a swift motion and fell onto her breasts with his mouth, suckling one nipple fiercely as he caressed the other. Lucy’s moans tore him apart, and he thought he might come without her even touching him. But she reached for his shorts, opened his fly, and pulled on his cock, rubbing the moisture that was already escaping over the head. “Oh, my God. Stop or I’ll come.” He pulled down her little shorts and thong and she quickly stepped out of them. “Look at you. Hold onto me, honey, hold on tight.” Lucy wrapped her arms around Jack’s shoulders and he lifted her up onto his hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he pushed his throbbing cock into her in one fast hard motion. She cried his name. Bliss. Tight, hot, wet, bliss. Jack pushed her against the wall and before he could start his thrusts, she began riding him, squeezing his hips with her legs for balance. Jack crushed her erotic moans with wet kisses and when she screamed in pleasure, he muffled the sound with his lips. A moment later, he emptied into her, legs shaking, body racked 37

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with pleasure. Jack came back to earth slowly and helped Lucy to the ground. He pulled off his shirt and wiped the slickness off her thighs, then helped her get her clothes back on. Jack sat next to her and zipped his shorts. He was sweating profusely, panting, and gloriously happy. Lucy sighed. Jack turned her to face him with one finger under her chin, and kissed her gently. “You’re amazing, Lucetta.” “Took the words out of my mouth.” “Cured of your fears yet?” “Some of them.” She smiled slyly. “There are a lot more scenes to go.” Lucy ran her hand along the wall and stopped on a hieroglyph. “I can read this one. It says, ‘Jack McGuire’s the sexiest man alive.’” Jack smiled. Goner. Nail number two, hammered right in. In love. Or something quite close to it. And he didn’t mean a damned thing to her. *

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“How about dinner? Eat in?” Lucy nodded. “Okay, I really need a shower first.” “Me, too. I don’t suppose you have any shower scenes in that script?” “Not a one.” Lucy smiled sweetly and scurried into the bathroom. Jack felt deflated. Well, maybe she really did mean to rehearse the script and nothing more. He dialed room service and ordered a feast for two, and then cracked open a beer and lay back on the bed as he listened to Lucy turn the shower water on. A wet, naked centerfold. The thought of her unbelievable body, soapy and slick, pounded to his cock. He was squirming uncomfortably in no time. Down, boy. You’re the hired hand, here to serve. It irked the hell out of him. “Oh, McGuire!” Lucy called out in a singsong voice. “Can you get me the shampoo?” 38

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Bingo. Jack pulled off his shirt, kicked off his sandals and walked into the foggy room. Lucy was a fantasy silhouette behind a streaked shower curtain. Like a dream. Jack stepped out of his shorts and reached for the shampoo. He took a deep breath. Please let this be what she wants. Because there was no pretending, he thought, as he looked down at his throbbing cock. He pulled the shower curtain back and Lucy’s eyes widened. She looked him up and down. Jack held the shampoo out to her and stepped inside, pulling the curtain closed behind him. “Here’s your shampoo.” She held out her palm and he squeezed the soap into her hand. And instead of washing her hair, she rubbed the soap onto her breasts slowly, squeezing her nipples and arching her back. Jack didn’t move, wanting her to go on. She did. She moved her hand down her stomach and pushed her fingers past the tiny patch of wet curls to her swollen folds. She circled her thumb and groaned as Jack ran his hands on her breasts, pulling at her nipples, massaging her soapy chest. “Good girl. You aren’t acting now, are you?” “No,” she answered breathlessly. “I told you, I can’t act.” She simpered and squirmed as Jack continued caressing her and she pushed her fingers inside her pussy, twisting and thrusting. “Let me.” Jack moved his hand down to hers and pushed it aside. He began fingering her folds and flicking his thumb over the swollen nub. He leaned in and kissed her, letting the water fall down his face and back as he sampled the hot, wet velvet inside of her. His cock pressed against her belly and he started rubbing it in rhythm against her soapy skin. “Down, Lucy. Lay down. No, the other way.” “What?” Her eyes were misty and he laughed as he turned her to face the faucet and lay her back into the huge tub. He turned off the shower and ran the faucet. 39

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“What?” She repeated. He grinned. “Scoot down, honey. No, all the way down. Legs up. Oh, my God, look at you.” Lucy spread her legs up on the tub wall and Jack pulled her forward, until the water poured directly onto her pussy. “Oh…my…God.” “Mmm, good?” He increased the water pressure and watched her squirm under the torturous flow. Jack leaned in and played with her nipples and watched as the fire built inside her. She finally exploded, a flush washing up her body to her face as she shuddered, grabbed for him. “Could somebody have told me about that a long time ago?” “You’re kidding, right?” Jack laughed. Lucy shook her head. “Your turn.” “It doesn’t work for men.” “That’s not what I meant. Get up.” Jack stood and Lucy grabbed a towel and led him by the hand into the bedroom. He watched in breathless anticipation as she closed the patio doors and shut the curtains. “Lay back.” Lucy patted him gently with the towel, following each caress of the cloth with a kiss. She lingered over his nipples and he moaned and reached for his cock, feeling a need for release like none before. Lucy slowly licked her way down his torso and bypassed his cock, licking his sack and pulling his balls into her mouth for what seemed like an eternity. “I’m going to die. Please, honey.” Jack cried out as she brought her lips, her fantastic lips, around the head of his cock. “Is this what you pictured, Jack? A woman’s lips sucking on you? Was it like this?” “Just like this,” he gasped. Lucy worked his cock farther back into her throat and then retreated, pushing her tongue forcefully over the tip. Jack shuddered and tried to speak, to tell her to stop before it was too 40

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late, but he couldn’t form a word. He looked down at her lovely face, intent on her mission, enjoying her lovemaking. “Jack, you’re incredible.” He still couldn’t answer as she began a sucking that brought him to the brink of mindlessness. He felt as if he was coming in bits and pieces. He fought his release, wanting the torture to last forever, but she sealed his fate, cupping his balls with one hand and pressing a finger into the sensitive hole underneath with the other. The world fell away and he poured into her mouth. Lucy kept sucking, greedily, moaning in appreciation. Jack wasn’t sure when it stopped, or when she had moved to lie in the fold of his arm. “I guess you’re over your sexual shyness.” They laughed and he rolled onto her, lavishing her face with kisses. Lucy cursed when the phone rang. She wriggled along Jack’s body and picked up the receiver. “Oh, hi. Really? Oh, okay. I dunno, should I? You’re kidding, my God! Okay, see you soon.” “What’s wrong, honey? Who was that?” Jack leaned up on one hand, brushing the other along Lucy’s shoulder. “My agent.” Lucy stared at the ceiling. “The movie’s off. The studio thinks it’s going to come in way over budget, so they’re pulling the plug. And they arrested Wayne’s murderer, someone I’ve never heard of.” “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I know this movie meant a lot to you.” Lucy burst into laughter. “What’s so funny?” She turned and met his gaze. “Us. This was all for nothing.” “Oh.” Jack’s heart nearly pounded out of his chest. So, it was over. “For nothing,” she’d said. A tight fist of pain started squeezing on his heart. What did you expect, asshole? “But, hey, that means we can play longer.” She planted a kiss on Jack’s cheek. 41

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“Why would we do that?” Jack heard the childish pouting in his own voice. Lucy sat up, pulling the covers around her neck. “I…I thought maybe. Oh shit. Rewind.” She squeezed her eyes shut and a few tears slipped out. “Lucy? What is it?” Please God, let there be a chance. She shrugged. “I thought maybe…” “What! For the love of God, spit it out!” Jack wanted to scream. “I thought there might be an ‘us.’ Without the practice, the script. I like you. Oh, shit, I sound like I’m thirteen. I like you, Jack. A lot. I haven’t liked anyone like this in a really long time. I even started to wonder if you might want to…see me. Like a girlfriend.” She groaned and got up, pulling a robe on. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” She started to walk into the bathroom and he ran and blocked her, lifted her off her feet, and carried her back to bed. He thought his heart would burst as he caressed her hair and looked into her eyes. “You know what I love about you the most?” Lucy sniffed and wiped away a tear. “What?” “Well, your swank tiki collection for starters. And your pizza. And those martinis are pretty good. And you’re the cutest woman I’ve ever met. And you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. In fact, I love everything about you. Except that I’ll never shake the feeling that you’re out of my league. Are you? Out of my league? Be kind.” Lucy squealed and jumped on top of Jack. “What’s the NYPD got that the LAPD doesn’t?” “Not a goddamned thing. Wanna practice for your next role, Lucy?” Jack grinned. “Let’s act as if we’re falling in love.” “I won’t be acting, Detective.” “Whoa, dude, neither will I.” Jack rolled Lucy onto her back and whispered two days worth of endearments into her ear as he pushed inside of her, building a rhythm of fire that brought cries and moans 42

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from them both. “Jack, I think you’re out of my league.”

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THERESE MACFARLAND Therese MacFarland lives, work, writes, and plays in New Jersey. She is married with one cat. A former archaeologist, Terry has lived a somewhat nomadic life, moving from her childhood home in Baltimore to Indiana for school, then on to London. She spent several years in Greece conducting archaeological fieldwork, although her passion is Mesoamerican archaeology. Terry has written a bit about archaeology and history for academic journals. She's a huge fan of classic fantasy, the likes of Zelazny, Piers Anthony, and Robert Jordan, and her favorite writer, aside from Mark Twain, is fantasy satirist Terry Pratchett. When she’s not at work, poking around Mexican ruins, or acquiring wrinkles on a Caribbean beach, Terry practices martial arts. She holds a Second Dan in Ryukyu Kempo karate and loves teaching beginning adult students. She began writing in 2004 and was nominated for a CAPA award for her first book, as well as a CAPA for Best New Traditional Writer. You can visit her website at http://www.theresemacfarland.com. *

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Don’t miss Three Nights In Greece, by Therese MacFarland, Available now from Amber Quill Press, LLC

When Layla Swann signs onto a case to catch an antiquities thief in Greece, she has no idea that she’s in for the three nights of her life! Her new boss, sexy Irishman Kevin Conlin, may only need Layla to

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