Phoenix Kiss Lyric James Layla Martin makes her living exposing all the wicked little secrets of the rich and famous. Exposing Jordan Gaines, the mysterious millionaire, is exactly the break she needs. Jordan has spent his entire life protecting a dark secret—he’s a phoenix shapeshifter, one of the last of his kind. When he finds Layla hiding in his home after he shifts, he offers her a deal—he won’t call the police if she spends one night in his bed. Layla believes she’s stumbled onto the story of a lifetime. Jordan thinks sleeping with Layla will discredit any exposé she plans to write. Neither expects the hours of unrelenting, primitive passion, the fast bond that forms between them or their fierce desire to keep the night from coming to an end.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Phoenix Kiss ISBN 9781419937019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Phoenix Kiss Copyright © 2011 Lyric James Edited by Carrie Jackson Cover design by Fiona Jayde Photography: RomanceNovelCovers.com Electronic book publication December 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.
PHOENIX KISS Lyric James
Dedication As always, to Henry, my happily ever after.
Acknowledgements I don’t think I’ve ever been edited harder and tougher in my life than with this story but…that isn’t a complaint. It’s a sincere thanks to my editor, Carrie Jackson, for all her hard work and for making me a better writer.
Lyric James
Chapter One Sunk low in her car, Layla Martin scanned the dark street as her thumbs rhythmically tapped the lower curve of her steering wheel. She gripped each indentation. From where she sat, the neighborhood looked exactly as it should. Halfacre lots with manicured lawns sporting elegant two- or three-story homes lined the clean streets. It was precisely what she expected from the filthy rich. On the outside, everything was home-and-garden picture-perfect. But secrets lurked behind those gilded French doors. Drugs. Kinky sex. Abuse. A place a reporter like her flourished. Her fingers slid over and around the grooves in the wheel. She removed her car key and tucked it into the front pocket of her dark jeans. She opened the glove compartment, slipped her remaining keys inside and took out her tiny digital camera. This was the night. She felt it and grinned as excitement and nervous energy thrummed through her veins. Calming herself, she tilted her wrist and checked her watch. It was now or never. With a couple of hours before the target of her next story came home with his latest date, she had just enough time to get in, hide and wait for the games to begin. Breaking this exposé was almost too easy. Of course, every scandal had its drawbacks. A rich society matron’s addiction to crack cocaine turned out to be marijuana. Some rich old guy’s kinky sex may only be a
6
Phoenix Kiss
shoe fetish. But every now and again, a really juicy piece of information came her way and put her on the front page of the Tattler for a month. If all went well, tonight was her next cover. Gazillionaire Jordan Gaines’ kinky BDSM-ménage-sex fetish would be all over the news and on the front page of every newspaper in a matter of days. All because of her. Layla Martin. Reporter of the stars, extraordinaire. Once this scoop came out, everyone would know her name. The so-called respectable newspapers wouldn’t have a choice. They would have to take notice and respect her for the journalist she was. Well, maybe not respect her but they’d sure be mad as hell one of their reporters didn’t get the story first and they’d wonder how the heck she did. By the time her feature hit the stands, they’d be crawling on their hands and knees begging her to work for them. As if she ever would. Surprisingly, she enjoyed working for the Tattler. It wasn’t exactly what she’d expected when she graduated from college and started looking or a job. But after a few months, she’d come into her own and found investigating the lives of the rich and famous wasn’t so bad. No, it wasn’t the New York Times or the San Francisco Chronicle but every story the Tattler told was fact. Okay, she needed to correct that. At least every story she told was the truth. Some reporters did tend to bend the truth a little bit, especially with the articles about those alien babies. Unlike them, Layla was serious about her career. Sure, some things about people should be kept private and personal but if you chose to live your life in the spotlight, you set yourself up for the scrutiny of the media and the sheer nosiness of the general public. Privacy was for regular people. Those who didn’t live in the spotlight craved what happened inside it and wanted to know every freaking detail.
7
Lyric James
That’s where she came in. Working for the Tattler wouldn’t get her nominated for a Pulitzer Prize but she staked her reputation on every piece she wrote. She didn’t tell half-truths, didn’t fudge the data or add a little extra here and there to get the buzz going as others did. If what she published couldn’t be backed up with sound, provable facts and absolute proof that couldn’t be denied, she didn’t write it. Sometimes her editor hated her for it but they’d never gotten sued and taken to court over anything she wrote and they never would. Every writer she knew wanted a piece of Jordan Gaines. From the Wall Street Journal to TV Guide, they all wanted an interview with him. The man was movie-star gorgeous, young and successful, almost as rich as Donald Trump. However, unlike The Donald, he never granted interviews. Ever. All they ever got was a press release from his publicist. The public knew next to nothing about him except the rare picture of him dating the newest “it” girl. What they knew was when and how he made his money. And no one ever got inside his milliondollar mansion. Except tonight. It was his own fault really. If he weren’t so secretive about who he was and what he did in his personal life, she wouldn’t have to resort to something so desperate. The lack of concrete information made her curious. Heck, it made every reporter on the face of the planet curious. Except she was the only one crazy enough to break in his home. When Layla stepped on the driveway leading up to Jordan’s home, she saw headlights coming from the front of the house. Shit. No one was supposed to be here, damn it. Looking left then right, she realized the one place she could hide was a row of bushes.
8
Phoenix Kiss
She dove headfirst into the hydrangeas. She hated the outdoors. Any moment she was sure a spider or a snake would smell her warm blood and slide up her pants. It gave her the creeps. When she saw the sleek black car, she panicked. Was it Jordan? Was her intel wrong? Had he ruined her front page story by leaving the damn house? She sneaked a peak as it drove by and almost laughed when she saw the white lettering on the side of the vehicle—Merry Maids. Thank goodness. It wasn’t just the story she was dying to get. Even she could admit a secret thrill of lust tingled up her spine every time she saw Jordan pull up in front of his imposing office building, which sat directly across the street from the Tattler. The Gaines Building towered over the moderately sized four-story, red-brick building that housed her paper. It had everything from a coffee shop, a bank, law offices, doctor offices and the conglomerate that was Gaines Enterprises, LLC. Because her cubicle was right by the window, she witnessed his daily arrival. She could set her clock to the man arriving every day precisely at 8:45 a.m. in his superstretch black limo. And he was always impeccably dressed in a designer tailor-made suit in varying shades of brown, black or blue. It was definitely a treat to watch him. The man exuded confidence and wore class like a second skin. His long, muscular frame epitomized raw masculine perfection. Layla hated to admit she made sure she was at work so she wouldn’t miss seeing him come in each day. It was pathetic actually. But hey, after her last breakup over six months ago, she had to get her eye candy where she could. Watching Jordan Gaines was unquestionably mouth-watering eye candy. But regrettably, she always saw him from a distance. The thought of possibly seeing him naked, up close and personal tonight produced an ache. Every red-blooded woman alive wondered what he was like in bed and her blood definitely ran hot for the man, even though he did go through women like flour through a sifter.
9
Lyric James
Unfortunately, no one ever kissed and told. They probably signed an I-won’t-tell contract before they fucked him. Not that she’d ever have a chance to do that. To her he was another story, another scandal to break. Besides, she’d sworn off men for a while after the last fiasco of a relationship she had. From now on, she would use men strictly for sex. Wham, bam, thank you sir, that was her motto. Love didn’t live here anymore. On her knees in front of the bushes, she swept her ponytail into her black baseball cap. She stayed low and sprinted along the hedges beside the front yard until she got to the back. There, she needed no cover. His fence was so high, no one could see into the yard. She stopped and allowed herself to appreciate the splendor. There was a deck, a hot tub and a pool. What she wouldn’t give to dive in and relax. No time for that though. A garden gazebo with shimmering white curtain panels tied at each corner sat tucked in a corner of the yard. Creeping forward, she eased toward the door. A small bit of digging at an alarm system company had turned up that most nights Jordan almost never switched on his alarm but he did lock his doors. She reached inside the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small pick, which she inserted into the lock. A tweak to the left and right then back to the left again and she heard the soft click. A little trick she learned from an ex-boyfriend. She said a small prayer, took a big gulp and pulled. After sixty seconds passed and she didn’t hear a supersonic blast to her eardrums, she released a sigh of relief. But for all she knew, he had a silent alarm as well. It gave her pause as trepidation tingled down her spine. If she got caught in his house, her life as a free citizen and her career would be over. A tiny part of her wanted to snoop around, take pictures. Shots of the inside of his home would solidify her story but again, there was no time for that. She had to find a
10
Phoenix Kiss
good place to hide. And since she assumed all his kinky behavior happened in his bedroom, that was the room she needed to find. When her cell phone buzzed against her back, she jerked upright and almost sent a vase tumbling to the floor before she caught it. Fingerprints. She wiped them off with her shirt before putting it back down to look at her cell phone. It was her editor. She knew what he wanted, had heard the rumors swirling around the paper. Someone was getting canned. She needed this story so it wouldn’t be her, which was another reason she was so determined to get the scoop on Jordan Gaines. Peripheral shots of a large fireplace, a sixty-inch television, hardwood floors, black granite countertops and luxurious sofas stuck in her head as she headed for the staircase that wound up to the second floor. She peeped in room after room until she knew she’d found his. It was amazing. A large masculine, mahogany-stained bed sat in the center, anchored by two nightstands. A massive chest of drawers and a dresser sat in opposite corners of the room and a lingering scent of him filled the air. Sandalwood and sage. Clean and masculine. Her breath caught at the view of the city from the balcony. She wished she had time to stop and enjoy the late-evening spring breeze. But she didn’t. She was on a mission. She opened one door and found the bathroom. “To die! Man, this guy really knows how to live.” A quick scan of the room with its whirlpool tub and walk-in shower didn’t reveal a good hiding place. Either he or one of his guests might have to use the restroom anyway. Plus there was no shower curtain to hide behind. Opening another, she found the perfect spot. His closet. And not just any closet. It was a room a sane woman would kill for. It had shelves, cubby holes, drawers and
11
Lyric James
spaces to hang everything imaginable in a person’s wardrobe. The man had more clothes than a large department store. Because of all the area, this space provided the perfect hiding spot and there was even a quaint little stool to park her tush. Even if he came in the closet, she could tuck herself behind a rack of clothes or slip inside one of the other doors. She smiled. Hopefully he’d be so involved in getting down and dirty into kinky sex, he’d drop his clothes where he was standing and not bother with the closet. She pulled the little chair up to the door, cracked it open an inch and sat down to wait. Less than an hour later, she heard…something. A soft whoosh. But that didn’t fit quite right. She peeped out the door and saw something flash in the sky out of the corner of her eye and turned her head. She squinted. It looked like a large ball of fire. “What the hell?” It was moving. Fast and close. “Shit.” The next thing she knew, a ball of flames dropped right on the balcony. But it didn’t look dangerous. It was dazzling. Majestic, even. Brilliant shades of crimson and gold made her fingers itch to reach out and see if it would be hot to the touch. Were those wings? Almost immediately, the shimmer of light began to shift and change. Her eyes widened as it disappeared. Layla slid forward off the stoop and blinked. “Oh my…” In place of the brilliant, shimmering fire stood Jordan Gaines, splendidly naked. She inched closer to the door. “What the hell?” she whispered. He stepped inside the French doors and stretched. Every inch of his body seemed to ripple as the radiant shades of red and gold slowly slid away, almost melding to his skin to reveal corded sinew and muscle. 12
Phoenix Kiss
Her gaze traveled over his broad shoulders to his well-defined bare chest, which had a sprinkling of dark, silky hair. His abs, a perfect six-pack, led to a thatch of curls around a magnificent, even though not aroused, penis. Her tongue snaked out and licked over her dry bottom lip. My, my, my. She knew it. He was absolutely gorgeous, everything she imagined and more. She wanted to jump out of the closet, attack him and see how long it would take to make him aroused with a few delicate swipes of her tongue. Okay Layla, this is not what you’re here for. She was supposed to catch him in an illicit sex scandal, not become a part of it. But, shit. Did she just stumble upon the biggest story…like…ever? Was this the reason Jordan Gaines was so aloof, so secretive? Because he was a…hell, she didn’t know what he was.
13
Lyric James
Chapter Two Jordan stretched his muscles and waited for the tingle of cool fire to seep out of his system. It had been a long flight from Seattle and he was glad to be home and back in his human form. He wanted to take a shower, relax and drink a cold beer. He walked naked across the stretch of plush, carpeted floor to his bathroom and scrubbed his hands over his face. The endless round of meetings seemed tedious this time. He hadn’t been able to focus for some reason and he still couldn’t figure out why. At the door, he stopped and swiveled, tilted his face upward and sniffed. Surely not, he thought and glanced around. But he definitely smelled a faint trace of wild cherry. It was a woman’s scent but that was impossible because he never—ever— brought women into his home, his sanctuary. The only place he could truly be himself. Even the cleaning service he used twice a month sent a man. Then he heard it, the slow, shallow breathing. His gaze darted around the room, lingered on his closet door. He began to move forward but had a thought and turned instead to the security alarm panel on the wall inside the entrance to his bedroom. Even though he rarely used the system, he’d had several panels installed inside the house so he could initiate it from different places if he needed to. It saved him from having to walk into the kitchen by the garage door every night before he went to bed. This instant, he knew he’d made the right decision in case the person hiding in his home tried to make an escape. After he keyed in his code, he slowly stepped toward the closet. Had someone really been stupid enough to break into his home? Were they still there? As he glanced around his bedroom again, he didn’t see anything out of place, nor did he see any items missing but that meant nothing if the motive wasn’t burglary.
14
Phoenix Kiss
Jordan reached the door, yanked it open and watched as a human form in black jeans and black turtleneck along with a matching black baseball cap stumbled backward, arms flailing, onto the floor. An echo of panic surged inside him before anger took its place. “What the hell are you doing in my home?” he roared. As the person scooted away from him and farther into the room, her hat fell off and revealed a disheveled, dark ponytail that floated down her back. This was not good. This was not good. Had the door been all the way closed? Had she seen him land and shift into his human form? The look of terror mixed with awe in her eyes told him she had indeed seen him shift. Fuck. This was not good at all. But Jordan Gaines never showed panic or fear to anyone. Years of practice shielding his emotions and keeping any expression of weakness off his face, hopefully, would pay off this very night. He had to figure a way out of this. The future of his entire species depended on it. He crossed his arms. “I asked you a question.” Fathomless chocolate-brown eyes perused him from head to toe and back up again like a caress, and his dick responded, reminding him he was still naked. “What…what…what are you?” she whispered. Despite the fact she’d broken into his home, Jordan found himself intrigued by the woman. A female cat burglar? He guessed that fit. She was beautiful, with flawless honey-brown skin devoid of any makeup. And the way she was positioned on the floor not ten feet away from him, arms stretched out wide behind her, knees apart, each foot planted on the floor—all sorts of
15
Lyric James
sexually explicit thoughts raced through his mind. Why was he thinking about fucking the woman instead of calling the police? Jordan reached for the navy-blue silk robe that hung behind the door and countered her question with a couple of his own. “Who are you and what are you doing in my home?” She stood, tugged her lost cap into her hands. “Did I see what I thought I saw? Am I dreaming? What the hell are you?” She shook her head back and forth several times and continued to wring the cap. “I couldn’t possibly have seen what I think I saw. Did I? You were a bird. A bird. Well, a ball of fire and then a bird and then you…you… I have to be dreaming. That’s it. I have to be dreaming. Any minute now I’m going to wake up and realize this was all one big dream.” Jordan watched as she closed her eyes for about ten seconds and opened them again. “Okay…so it’s not a dream.” She held out her arm. “Do you mind pinching me so I can make sure?” Surprisingly amused, Jordan leaned against the doorframe. “You still haven’t answered my question.” Why he felt entertained, he didn’t know. What was happening definitely wasn’t funny. The secret he’d been able to hide all his life was dissipating fast. What the heck was he going to do with this woman? Her gaze shifted around the expansive closet and landed back on him. Was she looking for an escape? “My name is Layla Martin. I’m a reporter with the Tattler.” Fuck. And. Me. Why couldn’t she have been some random woman trying to meet him and have sex with him? Hell, it had happened to him in the past. Not in his home, of course, but in different hotels around the country. He wasn’t conceited but he knew his appeal to
16
Phoenix Kiss
women. They flocked to him, ironically like birds, and not just because of his bank account. But this woman was a reporter. The reason she was in his home was to get a story. And boy did she get a doozy. At that precise instant, he regretted his decision to never grant interviews. That his company was in the top one hundred of Forbes every year garnered him a lot of media attention but the dual life he led, the secrets he had to keep, made him maintain a wide berth between himself and the press. He’d decided a long time ago that whatever happened in his personal and private life would remain exactly that. Private. If they wanted to know about his business, well that’s what he had a publicist and a board of directors for. They could handle all the interviews and questions. But his personal life was his own. He refused to allow anyone to get too close for fear his secret would be revealed. That was all over now apparently, unless he could figure out a way to convince this reporter, this beautiful woman, to keep his secret. Then a thought occurred to him. She had broken into his home. And even though she’d seen him, there was no evidentiary proof she could provide anyone to substantiate what she saw. “I’m going to call the police,” he said, interrupting her unending flow of questions, and turned to walk toward the phone on his nightstand. “We’ll let them figure this out.” “Wait…wait…you can’t do that.” She followed him out of the room and grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to spin him around. And that one touch sent an electric heat of awareness straight down his spine. When he turned, she had a stricken look on her face. I cannot go to jail. I cannot go to jail.
17
Lyric James
Jordan shook his head and blinked, unwilling to accept the words he’d heard in his head even though Layla didn’t speak them. “If I’m not mistaken, this is my house and you are an uninvited guest.” “But if you call the police, I’ll have to tell them…” He watched as her mind worked, sifting through the scenarios of various consequences she could face for breaking into his home, what she might say. “You’ll have to tell them what?” He concentrated hard but didn’t hear anything this time. She’d been thinking about being taken to jail. Those were his thoughts. Not hers. “I’ll…I’ll be forced to tell the police what I saw.” Jordan had known it was coming. After all, she was a reporter. The only thing reporters thought about were the lies they told and whatever it took to get their next byline. He’d observed that firsthand. After witnessing his guardian’s downfall, he’d vowed never again. “What exactly is it you think you saw, Ms. Martin?” “You. I saw you.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her to spell it out. “And I’ve seen you. So?” “You were a bird.” He laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was so simplistic, so one-dimensional. Something he definitely was not and would never describe himself as. “The correct term is phoenix.” “But they don’t exist. They’re mythical.” Jordan crossed his arms. “So what exactly is it you plan to tell the police? What story have you concocted in your mind to convince the authorities that I’m a…bird?” Once more, he saw her work it out in her mind, observing myriad emotions flitter across her face. It was so expressive and open. He wondered what it would look like when she was in the throes of passion, aroused. Damn if he didn’t want to find out. 18
Phoenix Kiss
A determined look came over her. “I’ll tell them what I saw. The ball of light, the fire, how you shifted from a…phoenix to a human.” If he was going to work this situation out to his advantage, he had to at least pretend to follow through with his threat. No way in hell would he call the police but he couldn’t let this reporter leave here with the knowledge she had. As soon as she could get to a keyboard, her fingers would be spilling his tale. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to keep her here somehow and convince her that his secret didn’t need to be told. Hell, he knew what kind of paper the Tattler was, had even picked one up once or twice. There had been stories about him in it a few times as well. But they’d only been rumors about his love life, his business. If something like this got out, even a whiff of it, however unbelievable it would be to some people it could be dangerous, the consequences too great. He was accustomed to reporters wanting to interview him. But if Layla’s story got out, they would be relentless. He didn’t need that. Jordan walked to the phone. “And do you honestly think they’ll believe you?” Her mouth opened and closed again. “Where’s your proof?” He allowed his eyes to travel a slow path down her body and up again and watched her cheeks redden. “I don’t see a camera, unless you hid it. But I know I would have seen a flash if you’d had enough time to take any pictures. My guess is you were too involved in what you were seeing to think about taking a picture of it.” Irritated affirmation slipped into her eyes but she stepped back and reached around to her back pocket. “My camera doesn’t need a flash.” He stalked toward her, aware that his silk robe was belted loosely at his waist. He was still completely naked underneath and half-aroused by this woman. He snatched the hat she held, tossed it on the bed and slowly slid his palms up her arms.
19
Lyric James
So close to her, Jordan saw her respond to his touch, felt the rush of small goose bumps explode across her smooth skin. Oh my God his hands are so warm they make me tingle. Jordan froze and released her. Why? Why this woman? The one female in the world he might possibly be…he wouldn’t even say the words. She was a woman who would betray him for her own personal gain and he could be linked to her for the rest of his life. Due to her height, probably five-four or five-five, she had to tilt her head up to look at him. As he watched her, he noticed how her rather large breasts rose with the sudden breath she took and the flare of heat in her eyes. Her beautiful chocolate orbs lowered to his mouth as she licked a wet trail over her own. His cock jumped in response. She wanted him. Even though she’d broken into his home. Even though she’d learned his secret. Her reaction to his touch was just as potent to her as hers had been to him. But first things first. Jordan warily touched her again and allowed his fingers to trail down her back and over her ass, to slip inside her right back pocket where he swiftly removed the camera before she could protest. She gasped and reached for it. “Don’t.” But he was able to keep it out of her reach long enough to see the last photo taken was not, thank goodness, of him. He tossed back the camera and moved past her to his nightstand. Jordan picked up the phone and began to call the time service, blocking her view so she wouldn’t see he wasn’t actually dialing 9-1-1. “You’re a very bad liar, Layla. There are no pictures.” 20
Phoenix Kiss
She shook her head and began the absentminded task of twisting the hem of the black shirt between her fingers. It wouldn’t be worth wearing anymore after tonight if she kept that up. As he hit the seventh digit, she reached out and grabbed his arm. “Please don’t.” Again when she touched him, it was as if a magnetic sexual current washed over him in waves. Her touch got him hard every time her hand moved over his skin? He’d known the woman all of five minutes. This wasn’t possible. “Give me one good reason.” His eyes trained on her mouth, noticed that even without the adornment of lipstick, it was a juicy red. When her tongue slid over her lips again, he tracked the movement and instinctively wished her tongue were washing over his dick instead. “I…I wanted to…wanted to…” He hung up the phone and faced her. “I know what the Tattler publishes. What did you expect to find when you broke into my home? Me, involved in some type of sex fetish or BDSM games?” Even in the dim light, he saw a flush coat her cheeks before she lowered her head. Jordan laughed as he moved around her and strode to the chest of drawers in the right corner of his room. “But that’s not what you found, is it? Now you have something much more and you expect me to let you walk out of my house and tell the world what I am?” He opened the top drawer, pulled out a pair of soft and worn cotton pajama pants. “But if I call the police, tell them I caught you in my house and they arrest you, how credible will your story be then?” She looked up and frowned and began to twist and twine the poor little black shirt all over again. “They’ll assume you’re either a stalker or one of the many reporters I’ve spurned over the years out for revenge.”
21
Lyric James
Not that each and every one of them didn’t deserve it. After his guardian was ruined because of one simple byline, one slipup, he knew he’d never put himself in the same position. He’d never expected one of them to be so bold as to break into his home. Now he had to do some damage control. That’s what he paid a publicist for but even she couldn’t get him out of this shit. No, he’d have to take care of this little scandal all by himself. “What will your editor say to you? What will he ask?” He pretended to ponder this. “Where’s your proof? Did you get a picture? Did I admit it? Your answer to all those questions will be a resounding…” He paused for effect. Her brow began to narrow and her lips pursed. “No.” “But I know what I saw,” she whispered. “That may be so but you have no proof, Layla,” he said quietly before stepping in front of her again, towering over her small, voluptuous frame. “Your word against mine? You know who I am? You’re going to tell the world that I’m a shapeshifting phoenix, with absolutely not one shred of proof?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” Jordan reached up and caressed her from just below her ear, around her cheek to her pouting lip. Her tongue darted out to lick him and she gasped, stepping back, her eyes widening with disbelief. Right then and there, he knew exactly how he was going to play this little game with Ms. Layla Martin. He advanced on her again but when she stepped away, the backs of her legs met his bed. Although he hadn’t seen a wedding ring on her finger, he asked anyway. “Are you married?” Not that he gave a damn. But he might as well get it out of the way. “No,” she said, shaking her head back and forth as she took short, shallow breaths. Her voice was low and slightly husky and so damn sexy it made his dick jump. He could see her pulse thumping in her throat. Being this close to him unnerved her. Her body caused every wicked thought he could conjure to roam around his brain. She was a very beautiful woman, after all. Even though she was dressed completely in 22
Phoenix Kiss
black, he could still appreciate her generous curves, the luscious breasts, the very round bottom he’d cupped earlier. One very decadent, sexy package. His fingers tingled with the desire to remove the band from around the ponytail she wore and slide through her thick hair before he gripped the back of her head and moved his mouth over hers. But that was impossible. Her breath caught in her throat at his touch and the answer came to him almost immediately. All he had to do was seduce her. Give her no choice but to spend one night in his bed and he was pretty sure her story would go right up in smoke. Because when morning came, she would have compromised herself by having sex with him. Oh yes, he’d satisfy her, and himself for that matter. He had no doubt they’d spend a glorious several hours in bed together, learning everything there was to know about each other’s bodies. Even now he wanted to taste her skin, see if she tasted as good as the cherry blossoms he’d caught a whiff of earlier. But he would never forget the real reason she was here. She was a blood-sucking reporter and the story she planned to write about him needed derailed. And right now, he had no choice but to use every weapon in his arsenal to accomplish that goal. Even if it was sex. “Do you have a boyfriend at home, waiting for you?” She shook her head again. “Do you want your story, Ms. Martin?” She’d possibly have a story but not the one brewing around in her head. “Yes,” she said, nodding emphatically. “Yes I do.” “Then I have a proposition for you.” Her eyes, wary now, gazed up at him. “What?” Even though his heart was thumping for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was hearing thoughts of hers he didn’t want to consider and his dick was pulsing with
23
Lyric James
unfilled need, he stepped forward and exhibited the epitome of control. “Spend the rest of the night with me.” “W-what?” she stammered. Jordan watched the stunned expression on her face, her widening pupils. He grinned before trailing a single digit from the middle of her neck to between her breasts. A supreme amount of satisfaction went through Jordan when Layla’s nipples beaded under her shirt. Oh yeah, he thought. This night was getting better and better.
24
Phoenix Kiss
Chapter Three Layla could not believe what she’d heard. “But…but you’re Jordan Gaines. You can pick up the phone right now and call any woman in a one hundred mile radius and they’d come running.” “Maybe.” Damn, she wished he’d step back. His sheer nearness was causing her pussy havoc. It was practically drooling, she wanted him so bad. He kept touching her. And she’d licked his finger. His finger, for goodness’ sake, like a lust-starved wanton. “You don’t want me.” He pressed against her. “I wouldn’t say that.” Layla felt his arousal and stifled a moan. “You do want that story, don’t you?” Hell yes, she wanted the story. But now the story was much more than who was having sex with Jordan Gaines. It was now what the hell is Jordan Gaines? Not only would she make the front page, hell, she’d probably be the news herself. People would want to know how she found out, what he had confided in her…could she provide proof of what he was. Shit. Shit. She had no proof. He was absolutely right when he said it would be her word against his. Her editor would definitely want undeniable proof that he was a phoenix.
25
Lyric James
Wasn’t that her calling card? She wouldn’t write it unless she did have irrefutable proof. That’s what she always told him. A picture of Jordan shifting. A written confession. Something. If she refused his offer, she had nothing. Plus he probably would make good on his threat to call the police and have her arrested. She did not want to spend a night in jail. She was all for that first amendment rights stuff but jail, no way. But if she stayed, spent the night with him…then quite possibly she could find evidence somewhere in this huge house of what he was and have it to take to her boss along with her story. And Layla had to admit it, she wanted him. Her body was responding to every touch, every caress of his fingers. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t meet a man and, because he was cute and happened to have a sexy body, want to immediately jump his bones. But she did. “Yes, I want the story but…” “But you don’t want me.” Her mouth opened and closed. He was right up against her, no doubt feeling how much she wanted him. She couldn’t tell that lie. Deftly, he reached up and tugged the black band from around her ponytail. Surprise sifted through her as his strong fingers briefly massaged her scalp before her hair tumbled around her shoulders. She sighed. She simply couldn’t help it. He grabbed her shoulder-length hair, moved it aside and after lowering his head, brushed his nose over her neck.
26
Phoenix Kiss
“I smelled you before I even saw you, you know. That’s how I knew you were here.” His cool, spicy breath fanned across her cheek as he tugged her earlobe between his teeth. A moan of lust, so deep and primal inside her, escaped. How in the hell could she say no to this? He stepped back and Layla felt herself leaning into him before she stopped the forward motion. Damn it. She was like a dog in heat. Jordan turned and walked to the bathroom. Almost immediately, she felt bereft, alone and needy. What the hell was wrong with her? When he stepped over the threshold into the lush room, he turned and dropped his robe. She could almost feel her eyes boggle out of her head. God, he was magnificent. Everything about him spoke of extreme self-assuredness, natural poise. He was thick and long and she watched, astonished, as he became blatantly and magnificently aroused. She had to force her gaze up to his face. “As soon as I landed, all I wanted was a shower and a beer. I’m about to take that shower. Since you broke into my home, the beer will have to come later. Decide what you want, Ms. Martin. Join me for…” He looked at the clock on the opposite nightstand from where she was standing. It read a little bit after eleven o’clock. “Oh, around eight hours in my bed and I’ll let you leave with your story.” He disappeared into the room and she heard the jets shoot on inside the glassenclosed shower before he reappeared back at the door. “If your answer is no then I’ll be calling the police as soon as I get out of the shower.” He stopped, she assumed to let her mull that over. “And don’t think about leaving before I get out,” he said, with an edge of steel underlying a voice as smooth as brandy, as he pointed to the door to his room. “I turned on the alarm. If you walk out a
27
Lyric James
door, try to slip out a window, attempt to leave by the laundry chute, the police will be here within two minutes.” Even though Layla’s mouth fell open, she couldn’t help but admire his very round, tanned butt cheeks as he vanished once again inside the bathroom. She stood there, transfixed. “Well, Layla, what’s it going to be? One night in Jordan Gaines’ bed plus the story that will make your career, or a night in jail? Hmph. That’s a no-brainer.” She could have walked out and taken her chances with the police. But this was one of the most affluent neighborhoods in Bel Air, which meant the police would probably be here before she made it out the door. However, she had a feeling she’d just been issued a challenge and challenges were meant to be met, head on, by a formidable opponent. Layla hadn’t gotten where she was in this business by being a wimp. This was Jordan Gaines after all. She needed this story. Plus, the man exuded sex appeal. Hadn’t she told herself she would love to find out what all the fuss was about? There had to be a reason women flocked to him. Money was one thing but sex… If he was as talented in the bedroom as he was in the boardroom, she’d understand why the women didn’t kiss and tell. Because they wanted Jordan Gaines all to themselves. Now she could find out, and the bonus—she would get the story that would make her career. She tugged her knitted black shirt out of her pants and after a slight hesitation pulled it up and over her head. She kicked out of her black tennis shoes without untying the strings and unbuttoned her pants. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to do this, couldn’t believe she was actually here. But she was. She left her clothes where they lay and once she rounded the corner to the shower, she stopped and watched him, his head tilted back as water cascaded down his soapy body. 28
Phoenix Kiss
The white bubbles left a delicious trail over his dusk-colored nipples and over the indentations of his gorgeous abs. Layla wanted to slide each finger over his chest inch by inch until she reached his dick, squeezed and placed him in her mouth. Oh yeah, she was definitely going to enjoy this. Slowly, she edged forward and pulled open the door. For a split second, she saw him still then continue washing his hair. The water came from everywhere. She’d seen pictures of water closets with jets like this, hitting you from every direction and all angles, and always wondered what it would be like to take a bath in something so luxurious. Now she’d get a chance to find out. With a tentative touch, she pressed her palm in the middle of his back and inched it down slowly, enjoying the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips, the muscles, the indentations. There was a thin, five-inch scar just below his right deltoid muscle that she traced with her middle finger. Other than that one mark, his skin was perfection. Steam billowed up in the space as hot, almost boiling water exactly the way she liked it hit every inch of her body. The soap from his hair crept over her fingers as she began to rub her hands down the middle of his spine, moving from his upper back to his lower and stopping above the perfect ass she’d admired earlier. After a moan, he turned around and her gaze swung up to meet his. It was intense and dark and his eyes glittered with desire as his dick rubbed over her stomach. Layla gulped. His eyes never left hers as he grabbed a white sponge, one of two hanging from a small clip on the wall, and began to lather it with soap. “Your turn.” He turned her around and began to bathe her, moving down her back, over her shoulders, down her arms, never saying a word. She didn’t think she’d ever been treated with this much care by a man. She arched her back, hoping to draw his
29
Lyric James
ministrations closer to her pussy. The rasp of the scrub over her skin made her already rapid heart thump faster. When he made it to her ass, he went slower, almost massaging each cheek before kneeling and moving down her legs to her ankles. Her nipples stiffened as his breath tickled over her calf muscles. He tapped her foot. “Spread your legs.” His voice was brusque, deep and each word he spoke sent a wave of delight up her spine. Layla moved her legs apart and placed both her palms against the glass to balance herself. She smiled, thinking she’d never watch another cop show again and, as a suspect got frisked, not think of this exact moment. Jordan rubbed the sponge up her inner calf to inside her thigh and then danced it over her pussy, rubbing softly. She moaned. This was getting better and better. Pleasure unfurled through her core and made her cry out. “Turn around.” When she did, he moved her so her back was flat against the wall. He continued to wash her slowly, almost reverently. At one point, the tips of his fingers grazed over her mound. She guessed he was admiring the intricate V-shaped haircut she’d given herself a few nights ago. “Do you like it?” she asked. “Oh yes,” he murmured as he flicked out with his tongue and licked her, causing her head to fall back against the glass with a soft thud. “Exactly like wild cherries.” She didn’t think he meant the haircut. The pleasure of his tongue against her clit surged over her and she ached to be filled with so much more. After a few more swipes, he stopped, which caused her to groan for an entirely different reason. “Don’t stop.”
30
Phoenix Kiss
He chuckled against her. “First things first.” He rubbed over her clit again with his finger. “Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Jordan stood and looked at her. “After that, you’ll be begging me to quit.” Not likely, she thought. Layla looked down at herself as he used the sponge to spread soap over her neck, up, under and over her arms, down to her wrists. He cleaned her achingly swollen breasts and her stomach. He stood back and let the water run the soap off her skin before he repeated the entire process all over again, which almost made her scream. Well, at least she knew the man was a clean freak but boy was she ready for him to be inside her. The mini-torture of this bath was becoming an experience in teasing and pleasure. And she knew from the evidence of his arousal that Jordan was as ready for her as she was for him. But for some reason, he was prolonging their mutual satisfaction. As she came to the decision to snatch the sponge away from him and jump his bones, he took her hands, raised them above her head and captured her bottom lip between his teeth. God it was delicious, intoxicating. It was a long, lingering lick that robbed her of breath. While he made sweeping, swirling motions all around her lips, he cupped one breast and slid a thumb over her nipple until it was a turgid bud. He bit lightly at her bottom rim, licked it then slid down to the hollow of her neck. “I can feel how much you want me, right here.” All Layla could do was open to him helplessly as his lips and tongue gave her an unadulterated lesson in lovemaking. She heard a keening noise and realized dimly that it was coming from her own throat. Her body shook and she clenched Jordan’s arms. He touched the pulse in her throat. “Every thought, every shudder, all I have to do is touch you right here and I’ll know.”
31
Lyric James
Dizziness swarmed inside her head before Layla took control of the explicit exploration and pushed him lower. She may have been partially blackmailed into this little sex game with Jordan Gaines but she was determined to give as good as she got. He was used to controlling everything and everyone around him but Layla wouldn’t allow him to totally dominate what was happening between them tonight. Even if she never saw him again and only got to admire him from the floor-to-ceiling windows in her office for the rest of her life, she would make sure he remembered her. Layla shoved her arms between them and eased her palms around his penis, sliding her fingers around his thick hardness. Water continued to beat at them, warm and wet, making her handle on him slightly slippery. But she didn’t let it hinder her from the lustful passion she was almost ashamed to admit she felt for him even under these circumstances. Her body hummed with sensation as his lips, so absorbed in tantalizing her breasts, drove her insane. He pulled his mouth from her and she cried out. Against her throat he whispered, “Don’t worry. I’m not done yet.” He took her thighs and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing, twisted around and carried her to the seat situated against the opposite wall and set her down. After lowering himself to the shower floor, he pulled her to him until she hovered over the edge, legs spread. Her breath caught at the sight of him kneeling before her. He lifted his head and she shivered at the heat in his eyes. Arousal had turned his chiseled features even harder— no, majestic like the regal phoenix he shifted into. He gently stroked her clit, his thumb moving in slow circles. With a glint in his eye, he took one foot and applied light, delicate kisses from her ankle up to her knees before repeating the act with the other side. Layla slid her fingers through his wet hair and pulled. “Now.” He obliged her by leaning into the V of her legs and before she could smile, she felt the strong sweep of his tongue against her folds and gasped as he tugged the bud between his teeth. 32
Phoenix Kiss
Jordan cupped her legs and suckled strongly on the slick, wet heat of her, and the sensation was so intense it was like a white-hot streak of lightning. Layla looked down and found herself even more aroused by the contrast of his white skin between her dark legs. Her head fell back as he moved over her, tugging and pulling and licking, causing delicious heat to begin a slow burn inside her. She heard the soft pounding of water against the beautiful bronze tile, her soft pants and the erotic slurping of his mouth. Then she felt a large, blunt finger circling inside her flesh, stroking the folds. She heard satisfaction in his harsh groan when it entered her and her hips arched to take more of him. She’d never been touched this way before, her body had never felt such intense longing. “That’s it. Open for me. Bloom for me,” his deep voice crooned before continuing his delicious torture. Between his tongue and his finger, she was on fire. He moved it deeper and deeper still while his tongue circled her clitoris. He slowly withdrew the digit and slipped a second one in beside it. She cried out as she pointed her toes and her thighs trembled. It was almost too much. Each swipe of his tongue and flip of his finger made her moan even deeper with desire. Every nerve in her body began to flicker. It didn’t take long for Layla to see that what Jordan did to her could be dangerous to her soul. “God, you taste so sweet, so hot. Cherries,” he murmured and thrust his fingers hard, and she writhed with the need to release, her entire body trembling. “Come. Now,” he ordered. Jordan circled her clit again, hard with his tongue, and probed deeply with his fingers, and she did. A turbulent sensation washed over her, shredding her body in a million pieces, allowing her to feel each sliver cut straight to her core. She clenched her thighs helplessly around his head as his mouth ground against her. Her fingers found the top of his head again and gripped hard as he continued 33
Lyric James
stroking, harder and harder as she climaxed. He’d known how to touch her, how hard and how soft to keep her on the edge, in helpless spasms of pleasure so blinding, so erotic it had been almost painful. Layla never lost control this way, hadn’t known it was possible. It was exhilarating and frightening all at the same time. Her body shook with the intensity of her release. Eyes closed, she rested her head on the shower wall, still feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm in her lower body. Jordan moved away from her to turn off the jets and within mere seconds lifted her up, covered her in a plush towel and carried her out of the stall, placing her on the lightmocha granite counter. “I’m not done yet, love,” he whispered against her throat. Her eyes flew open as he plunged inside her, this time with the hard pulse of his arousal. He embedded himself deeply, over and over, entering her with one driving thrust after the next. Layla had known he would fill her completely. She arched to meet each powerful thrust and brought her knees up to his hips, gripping him. Their bodies bucked and collided in perfect unison. She clenched and shuddered as he delved deep. He stretched her and she could feel the tip of him pressing against her womb. The sensation was beyond description, unbelievably passionate. When she looked up, she spied a reflection of them in a floor-to-ceiling mirror across the room and almost didn’t recognize herself, lips puffy with arousal, eyes lost in rapture. He’d already taken her to the edges of ecstasy and she couldn’t believe she was reaching that peak again as he drove faster and faster and continued a pounding, driving rhythm beyond anything she’d experienced before. His fingers moved sharply over her clit and Layla cried out. She’d never felt this. Ever. How could he, a stranger, bring her to this state of responsiveness when no one ever had? Desire thrummed through her, sent shivers up her spine and sank into the
34
Phoenix Kiss
deepest crevices of her sensitized flesh. Her body fragmented into a torrent of heat and rapture. The orgasm was so piercingly strong she thought she would pass out. She clenched her legs around him as he kept thundering inside her throughout the uncontrollable, shuddering contractions, harder and harder until he too stiffened and yelled out, pouring himself into her. Their labored breathing was loud inside the small, silent room. Jordan slowly straightened, eyes meeting hers, and pulled out of her little by little. What in the heck happened? Her muscles felt like water. Her legs were quivering and her heart beat like a drum. She had to get away from him for a few minutes. “Um…can I shower again? If you don’t mind.” One side of his mouth quirked up and he walked to the shower stall, opened the door and turned the water back on. She watched as the steam from the hot water billowed back up. Next to the toilet, he threw away the condom she hadn’t even realized he’d put on. When she stepped into the shower, she didn’t know if she could take another round so soon but instead of entering with her, thank goodness, he allowed the door to close behind her. She felt as if her heart and soul had left her body and then come back, transformed. She was dumbfounded by her reaction to him, her body’s reaction to him. It had never happened before. Never in her sexual history had a man consumed her, brought her to such mind-numbing pleasure. What did that mean? After she stepped out again and toweled dry, she reentered the bedroom to find one lamp turned on and Jordan, dressed in the pajama bottoms he’d grabbed earlier, sitting quietly on the bed with his back against the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles. His thick auburn hair was still wet from their bath, his blue eyes half shuttered in sleep. 35
Lyric James
But somehow she knew he wasn’t, that he was very aware of her and every move she made. He’d turned on the television set deeply inside a wall she hadn’t even noticed but the volume was down really low. She took in the room more clearly this time, with its large dimensions and open space, telling herself it wasn’t so she could get to know the man but so she would have more filler for the story she would eventually write when she left here. The room was painted a rich, burnt orange and she knew even if she searched a hundred stores she wouldn’t be able to find the beautiful mahogany furniture anywhere. It was large and unique. She walked to the tall six-drawer dresser and traced the tips of her fingers over the intricately carved pattern duplicated on the face of each drawer. “It’s a phoenix,” she said and smiled, looking over her shoulder at Jordan. The expression on his face was unreadable. “Yes. My guardian’s father made it all for me, years ago.” Her mouth fell open. “Your grandfather made all these pieces?” she asked, astonished at the amount of craftsmanship and expertise it must have taken. Layla explored the room as he watched her, trailing her fingers over different pieces. Beside each nightstand were tall bookshelves that almost reached the ceiling. Each was filled with books she’d also read herself, which made her smile. There was a carved phoenix that looked like it was in the middle of flight sitting on a pedestal in the corner by the door. She could imagine Jordan sitting in the brown leather chair every morning, reading the financial section of the newspaper with a cup of coffee on the small, round table beside the balcony doors he’d left open. She ran her fingers over the silky burnt-orange, brown and cream duvet, knowing it was a thread count so high it probably felt like water when you were underneath it. She was tempted to snuggle into the plump pillows clustered against the headboard and fall
36
Phoenix Kiss
asleep. Underneath her bare feet, she felt the plushness of the cocoa-colored carpet. Damn, she could get used to this. She honestly couldn’t keep still. She was in new territory here. What the heck were they supposed to do now? Have sex again? “Well,” she said and smiled hesitantly. “Do you um…have something I could put on?” He looked at her quizzically before running his gaze over her from head to toe. He stood and grunted. “Sure.” When he came forward, her smile faltered. He held her gaze, before his eyes dropped to her mouth, then to her cleavage exposed above the towel she had wrapped around herself. She felt her nipples peak, her breasts warm as heat coiled low in her abdomen. How could she possibly want him again after what just happened between them? “I need to get to the drawer behind you.” “Oh. Sorry,” she said and stepped to the side. His nearness alone triggered intimate thoughts, visions of hot sex. A mental picture of Jordan, naked and aroused, grew in her mind. Had he turned her into a sex freak? “Here you go.” He gave her a black cotton T-shirt almost identical to the one she’d had on earlier, only larger. After she turned her back to him, she let the towel drop to the floor and slipped the shirt over her head. It fell to the middle of her thighs and the cool air of the room reminded her she didn’t have underwear to slip on too. When she turned around, he was standing right there. His eyes locked with hers. With a fingertip, he traced the neckline of the T-shirt from the pulse beating madly at her throat, down the edge of the sleeve, down her arm. Did he know what she was feeling again? “Are you ready for bed?”
37
Lyric James
Her mouth closed and opened again. For a second, she saw a look that flashed in the depths of his eyes she didn’t understand. He wanted her. She knew that but something about the way his irises flared to life almost took her breath away. “Yes.” Before she could tell him to stop, he swept her off her feet into his strong and capable arms. “This isn’t necessary. I’m a big girl. I can walk two feet to the bed.” Jordan chuckled before placing her gently on the bed. “I want to make sure you don’t get away.” He kissed her knuckles. “For a few hours anyway.” What happened to her nerves of steel? She’d agreed to this challenge, damn it. She wanted her story, didn’t she? But Jordan was making her want more, to question the real reason she was here. Yeah, she’d had sex with him but she wasn’t supposed to make it this easy for him. She wasn’t supposed to develop…feelings. “You’re used to getting your own way,” she stated matter-of-factly. “What’s the point otherwise?” Layla moved away from him. His nearness caused little tingles all along her nervous system. “You can’t possibly believe this secret of yours will stay that way after tonight,” she retorted. “When you decided to break into my home, you made your first error of the night.” He wrapped fingers as unyielding as handcuffs around her wrists. Long, lean fingers with well-kept nails and a spattering of dark hair across the knuckles. “Come on. It’s time for bed.” Had she ever felt like this in her life? It was as though he’d mesmerized her. Her heart began to beat a fast, steady rhythm and the warmth from his touch spread throughout her limbs. Minutes later, she was snuggled next to Jordan on his huge bed, his arm slung over her waist. But for some reason, sleep wouldn’t come.
38
Phoenix Kiss
The door to the balcony was now closed but the soft glow from the moonlit sky illuminated the room. He was curled against her back, his breath wafting over her neck as if he was supposed to be there, as if what happened between them tonight was perfectly natural.
39
Lyric James
Chapter Four Jordan lay on his back and listened to Layla’s even breathing. He hadn’t expected to feel anything for her. Sure, he’d had an ulterior motive for blackmailing her into staying in his home and having sex with him. He’d needed time to figure out how to deal with her and coerce her not to tell his story. He hadn’t expected the sex to be so incredible. He hadn’t expected to experience comfort and a general sense of well-being while he was with her. He never thought he’d hear her personal thoughts and want to kiss her so badly he’d have to mentally and physically stop himself from doing so. If he’d given her the phoenix kiss…it was something he didn’t want to think about. Something he’d never encountered with any woman. Number one, he never brought women into his home. Layla broke in but that was beside the point. She was still there. Even now, he resisted the urge to turn on his side and pull her close to him so he could feel her body next to his. Number two, he’d expected to be able to maintain a distance from what happened between them. He’d wanted to treat this night exactly like any other business deal and strategize until he reached his ultimate goal. He hadn’t become the head of a vast international network of businesses and hotel chains by sitting back and not going after what he wanted. He’d actually fallen asleep with his arm draped over her, knowing that what he wanted more than anything was to wake up in the morning with this woman in his bed. Jordan shoved himself up on one elbow and gazed down at her sleeping form. Her face in sleep was without guile or purpose. It was beautiful, with high cheekbones, a delicately tipped nose and graceful chin.
40
Phoenix Kiss
Her beautiful brown skin looked like warm caramel next to his stark-white sheets. He couldn’t believe this woman hunted down and investigated the most intimate secrets about people and published them for the world to see. But he needed to remember that. It was the reason she was in his home, to reveal his secrets to the world. Jordan willed a cold lump of clay into his heart and rose quietly out of the bed, strode to the alarm system beside the door and entered the sequence of numbers to turn off the interior doors. With a last look behind him at her sleeping form, he left the room. He marched downstairs to his kitchen and flung open the refrigerator. His eyes raced over the food inside and, as his mind began to formulate a plan, he decided what he wanted to cook and began to pull out items. He didn’t want to discern why he was so grumpy. With the smallest glimmer of humor, he knew he was being ridiculous. So she’d gotten under his skin a little bit. After tonight she’d be gone again and he’d find an even more willing woman to fill his bed and remove any memory of Layla Martin from his mind. The thoughts of hers he heard didn’t really happen. It was his imagination. But Jordan knew for some reason she’d touched him in a place he’d never before been touched in his life. In the phoenix soul he’d buried so deep he thought it would never surface again. He’d never allowed it before. Had never wanted to, had become an expert at blocking it. However, the instant he found her toppled over on his closet floor, it was if he’d had no choice but to her let her in. In a way he bitterly resented, she’d pierced each and every one of his defenses. After he broke the spaghetti noodles in half, he dropped them in the boiling water and drained any excess oil from the lean hamburger meat he’d cooked. He began to roll out dough on a cutting board. Forward and backward, he pushed the rolling pin and wished he could remove the ache in his heart the way he flattened the lumps out of the floured dough. 41
Lyric James
Instead of moping, he should be trying to figure a way out of this mess. It was his fault for not turning on his alarm system. Hell, he never did. When he was out in his phoenix form, he always left his balcony doors open and the alarm system off so he could fly directly into his bedroom. Today, he’d come to regret that decision. Again, he pounded the dough, pressing, pushing, until all the lumps were out, reminding himself that even though the sex had been extraordinary…thank God he hadn’t kissed her. Then he’d really be in trouble. She’d tried to several times but he’d become an expert at avoiding that particular mating ritual. Literally. If he kissed her, he would be stuck with the damn woman for the rest of his life. He refused to believe she was meant to be his mate. A damn reporter. He’d almost succumbed, her mouth had been so tantalizing and sweet. He’d congratulated himself that he was able to withstand the driving need to capture her lips between his. But he’d come close. Really close. Jordan shook it off as he took his rolling cutter and sliced perfect three-inch by twelve-inch rectangles to make homemade cinnamon rolls. He’d made them so much over the years, the recipe came so easily to him, it was like adding one plus one without using his fingers. He decided to take his mind out of it, stop thinking about it. He’d already told himself he would treat it like business. A solution would come to him soon enough. So he cooked. He drained the spaghetti noodles, added the meat seasoned with onions and bell pepper and then stirred in the spaghetti sauce. He rolled the rectangular squares for the cinnamon rolls into perfect circles and sprinkled them with a mixture of brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and sugar before putting them in the oven to cook for twenty minutes. While he waited for the spaghetti to bubble hot, he poured a glass of wine, leaned against the counter and stared out into the night. But he knew he was in trouble when he immediately sensed Layla had woken up. Shit. 42
Phoenix Kiss
Layla swung her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the tips of her toes through the soft carpet. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand behind her. Two thirty. She had six more hours. Her stomach began to make a most unladylike sound and she smelled a slight whiff of cinnamon and some type of Italian sauce. He was cooking. She stood, more than aware she had nothing on under the black T-shirt Jordan had given her earlier. But the smells that assaulted her nose were more important to her than impropriety right now. She was freaking starving. She hadn’t had a chance to eat dinner before she broke in…visited Jordan’s home tonight. About to open the door, she stopped herself and looked at the green light flashing on the alarm panel. She hoped it meant the alarm system was off. Surely he wouldn’t lock her in the room. Would he? She grasped the doorknob and pulled, relieved a horn didn’t start blaring. She vaguely remembered where the kitchen was even though she’d bypassed sightseeing through his home when she’d broken in. The one thing on her mind had been finding his bedroom. She’d told herself she’d explore later. But right now, the monster growling in her stomach took precedent. The only room she wanted to explore was the room with the food. When she found Jordan, she stopped cold and stared. Cerulean-blue paint covered the walls of the huge kitchen and polished cherry-wood cabinets lined three sides. Above the large farmhouse sink was a backsplash of glass tiles. The floors were a light wooden-gold tone that gleamed, and a stainless steel double refrigerator, regular oven, confectioner’s oven and microwave took up one wall. An octagon-shaped island sat in the center with a black granite top. The man loved granite. A tall crystal vase was in the center, bursting with ice-blue hydrangeas and white roses. 43
Lyric James
What surprised her most, though, was Jordan. In one hand he held a glass of red wine. In the other, he was wearing one of those baking mittens and pulling a pan out of the oven. She swooped in and stood beside him. “Are those cinnamon rolls?” He turned to look at her. “Yes.” “Oh my goodness, they smell divine.” And they were her absolute favorite dessert. Unlike Jordan, from what she could tell from the items that still littered the countertop, she didn’t make hers from scratch. All she did was make a quick run to the grocery store to find the refrigerated section and the Pillsbury Doughboy. Jordan set the round pan on a cooling rack and turned the oven off. She moved to sniff the rolls and closed her eyes in anticipation of savoring one in her mouth. Jordan sagged against the island and sipped his wine, with one arm hugging his middle, and watched her as she moved from the pan of cinnamon rolls to the stove. She lifted the pot and grinned like an idiot. “I think I’ll move in here with you,” she jokingly said, glancing over her shoulder. “Are you trying to say the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach? I thought that was just men.” Beside the pot on the stove was a utensil holder. Layla picked up a fork, twirled it around and pulled out a steaming mouthful of spaghetti. She held her other palm under the fork, blew on the food and put it in her mouth. After she chewed, she said, “No. That’s just me. Most women like a man who buys her purses and shoes, jewelry. Me, cook me a meal and you’ll have to push me away. That was so good, by the way. Did you make the sauce from scratch too?” “Yes. It’s an old family recipe. I take it you’re hungry.”
44
Phoenix Kiss
Why she felt so at home, she didn’t know. She began to open drawers and cupboards until she found a plate. When she turned around, he was standing so close she could still smell the soap from their shower several hours ago. He reached for it. “Allow me.” She quirked a brow but gave him the plate. He nodded to the barstools on the other side of the island. “Have a seat.” Layla couldn’t help but watch him. He was so comfortable in this space, as if it were an extension of who he was. And damn if he didn’t look sexy. Because he’d only put on the pajama bottoms, his muscular chest teased her with every move he made. She bent over the counter. No shoes either. He even had the nerve to have sexy feet. Why didn’t he have one flaw? A bunion on his big toe. A huge, grotesque boil on his back. Something. Before long, she had a steaming plate of spaghetti and a cool glass of white wine sitting in front of her. Jordan stood across from her and ate also. An awkward silence stretched between them, which would have been fine with her but she had to get her game face back on and start thinking like a reporter. There were questions to be asked and answered. Plus, undeniable proof needed to be found so she could tell the world what Jordan was. This was the exposé of her career and she was not going to blow it. No matter how good the sex was. Yeah, she’d agreed to a little bit of quid pro quo to get the information she needed but spending a night with Jordan Gaines was hardly a sacrifice. The man was gorgeous and sexy and the sex was, needless to say, outstanding. Except she needed a plan of action that involved more than salivating over the man she planned to write an exclusive feature about. He turned to pour himself another glass of wine. “How does a Brown University graduate end up working for a newspaper like the Tattler?”
45
Lyric James
The fork heading up to her mouth stalled and she lowered it back to her plate. “How did you know that?” Jordan glanced at an alcove in the corner of the kitchen she hadn’t noticed and back at her again. A laptop sat in the center. From this distance, she could see the logo for her newspaper and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a picture of her from her bio page. “I’m also quite capable of doing research,” he said. All the insecurities, fears and shame she’d harbored at the beginning of her career came roaring back. She shook it off. “It’s the job I wanted.” “Oh no.” He shook his head and smiled. “You’re not getting off that easy. You broke in my house to get a story, to ask me questions. You can at least answer mine truthfully. Tell me how the daughter of a renowned doctor and a judge ends up working for a tabloid.” Layla set her fork down and looked him straight in the eye. “It was the only paper that would hire me. Satisfied?” His shoulders rose and fell. “Has to be more to it than that.” “I tried, okay. The Atlanta Herald. The San Francisco Chronicle. The New York Times. I tried them all but evidently I didn’t have what it took to work for any of them. I was desperate. My parents were giving me those looks they give you. What’s wrong with her? We raised her so well. All that money spent on college for nothing.” Layla could still remember it. Six months after she’d graduated with honors from Brown, she still didn’t have a job. She’d moved back home with her parents, had been sending out resumes for months, going on interviews. But no one would hire her. The disappointment in her parents’ eyes had killed her. “They were so sure I’d find a job with one of the top papers in the country. Hell, even I’d been sure, but when it didn’t happen… I needed out of their house, out of their sight. A college friend lived here so I decided to come for a visit. As soon as I arrived, I grabbed a few papers from a newsstand and started applying for any job I could get. There was no way I was going back to my parents’ house.” 46
Phoenix Kiss
She took a breath and forked in a couple mouthfuls of spaghetti and paused to chew. “This is really good.” She hunched her shoulders and said, “The Tattler was the first to offer me a job, so I took it.” “Now you’re one of their star reporters. I guess that means you’re very good at your job.” When he said it, the edge in his voice didn’t sound like a compliment. “I’m guessing the reason you’ve never done an interview is because you don’t like reporters.” This time, he looked her square in the eyes. “Your guess would be correct.” The expression on his face revealed a feeling that went much further south than mere dislike. It teetered on loathing. For some reason, that hit her hard in her chest. Fundamentally, that meant he didn’t like her and never would. So what if she harbored a secret wish that when the night was over he’d want to see her again? Well, so be it. She wasn’t here for him to like her. She was here to get a story and a story she would get. “Did you always want to be a reporter?” The question surprised her. She expected he was asking to keep her from inquiring about him. When she stared at him for a second, she saw genuine interest on his face. “No, actually, I didn’t. I had dreams of being a writer. I won a writing competition when I was in high school and after I did, I knew I was going to be the next Nora Roberts or Janet Evanovich. But when I expressed that desire to my parents, they balked. Writing wasn’t a career, it was a hobby, they said. I thought I had picked the next best thing.” “But working for the Tattler wasn’t exactly your dream job?” “Um…no. After a few months, I found I was pretty good at it though.” “You gave up your dreams to suit your parents and didn’t even end up with the job you wanted.” Layla scowled at him. “They were paying the bills at the time. I had no choice.”
47
Lyric James
“What about after that? After you were grown and living on your own. Why didn’t you pursue your dream then?” She wouldn’t dare tell him that a finished manuscript sat in a drawer collecting dust because she feared rejection. She’d already proven she wasn’t good enough for the biggest newspapers in the country. Why in the world would she think she was good enough to publish a book? Layla had had enough rejection to last a lifetime. “I grew up.” “No, you gave up.”
48
Phoenix Kiss
Chapter Five After she finished eating, Layla took her plate to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. She was neither a cook nor a cleaner but she knew how to put the soap in the right compartment and push start. “I’ve answered some of your questions, how about you answer some of mine now?” she said after she turned around to face him. But when she did, he was right there again, too close to her, screwing up her equilibrium. The man had a raw sexuality that made hers kick into overdrive. In a low, husky voice, he drawled, “But we haven’t had dessert.” The immediate change in the pitch of his tone was enormously arousing and she felt it all the way to her toes. She placed her fingers over her belly, which zinged with nervous flutters. Layla was stuffed but when Jordan pulled the plate of cinnamon rolls he’d covered with icing forward, her mouth watered. “I hope you have a gym somewhere in this place because after that mouthwatering spaghetti and now those, I’m going to need to run about two hours on the treadmill.” When his gaze slid down and back up again, she tugged on the T-shirt he’d given her. He smiled with a definite dash of wicked intent, which caused a dimple to wink in his left cheek. And then he leaned forward, brushing his slightly rough jaw against the soft skin of her cheek, which made her shiver. “I don’t think you need a gym at all. I haven’t forgotten our bath together. Your body is perfect in every single way.” He picked up one of the sweet, decadent treats and started to bring it to his mouth then stopped. Instead, he brought it to hers. “Open up.”
49
Lyric James
She complied. It was still hot and smelled heavenly and the icing dripped from the sides onto his fingers. When she bit down, she couldn’t help but close her eyes, it tasted so delicious. She’d never experienced something so divine. “Another family recipe, I’m guessing?” He nodded. “A great-grandmother.” Wow. Sexy, smart, rich and he could cook. She’d died and gone to heaven. He was the perfect man. Well, except for that whole phoenix thing, which reminded her she still hadn’t asked him one thing. “You didn’t answer my questions.” A dribble of sauce dripped down her chin and she reached up to swipe it away. She was about to stick her finger in her mouth when he stopped her, took the digit and slid it between his lips instead. Every hormone in her body took notice and a fluttering surge of desire caught her in a tight fist. He brought the roll up to his mouth and took a bite directly over the spot where she’d bitten. “You said you wanted me to answer some but you didn’t actually ask me anything.” “Oh,” was all she could manage. “Well…” Jordan tugged at the bottom of her shirt. “You really should take this off.” Damn, he was distracting her and dang it almighty, she was loath to stop him. “Why?” Swirling his finger around the cinnamon roll, he trailed some of the gooey, sweet substance onto the tip, dipped it in the hollow of her throat and moved downward. “Because I just thought of several places I could put this.” He leaned forward and licked the sugary goo off her skin. A deep shiver went down her spine as his tongue, his warm breath, moved over her. Relentless, his lips traveled to her earlobe and tugged, then down the side of her neck where he bit and nipped.
50
Phoenix Kiss
Layla let a whimper escape and grasped him around his head. She didn’t know what happened to their dessert, because he pressed her breasts inward until they met and his thumbs rubbed circles around each nipple through the thin shirt. “This has to come off,” he said, and slid lower until he took the shirt and lifted it up and over her head, leaving her completely naked. She felt the full, impressive length of him through the thin cotton of his pajama pants. He circled her waist, lifted her and set her on the cool granite countertop. With a growl, he picked up another cinnamon roll, removed the glaze and rubbed the substance over her breasts. She gasped when his mouth swooped down to her nipples. His lips closed over one and the delicious suction was almost too much for her to take. If she were standing, her legs would be shaking uncontrollably. While he suckled, she felt his fingers skim over the curves of her legs, over her thighs, down to her calf muscles and back up again. She opened her legs wider, trying to force him to touch places that clamored for his attention even worse but he ignored her, focusing on her breasts with the fascination of a man who’d never seen them before. Layla wanted him gloriously inside her. She wanted to be taken, roughly, fully, right in his gourmet kitchen. She squirmed. “Now.” “Not yet.” She blew out a huff and kicked her foot against one of the lower cabinets. Fine then. Since he wanted to take his own sweet time, she knew a way to make him hurry up. The counter was low enough and he was tall enough for her to reach inside his pants. She delved down and made a fist around his cock. He groaned but didn’t stop the exquisite torture he was causing with his mouth. Layla moved her palm along the full, solid length of him. She squeezed and stroked him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized she needed to keep some level of control, couldn’t lose herself to him again, because if she did he’d own her heart forever. 51
Lyric James
Everything he was doing, every touch, every whisk of his tongue, drove her closer and closer to the edge of something, somewhere she was afraid to go. She continued stroking him and he rocked to meet her touch. She kept her fingers busy, exploring him, fondling his huge sac, her every intent to take him right over the edge with her. He yanked away from her breasts on a groan, pulled her hands free, surged toward her lips but stopped mere inches from her face. When she leaned forward and licked a trail over his mouth, he moved again to her neck. She was hungry for him. “Kiss me.” “I’ll kiss something else instead.” And lowered himself to the floor. When he reached out, parted her folds and zeroed in on the sensitive nub of her clit, she forgot all about kissing him. He plucked and tugged at her and rolled his lips around her before plunging deep. An animal moan she didn’t know she could make escaped. She surged forward, arched to meet him, riding the waves of pleasure. Before the swell hit, he was up again, pulling her to the floor and turning her around. Bending her over the counter, he thrust hard and deep, grunting with the effort as her nipples rubbed against the chilly texture of the granite. He gripped and lifted her, driving into her, her clit moving over the round handle of the lower drawer. The pressure of it coupled with each thrust ratcheted the pleasure so high, she thought she’d never come down. Their images shimmered in each square glass tile on the wall. For some reason, she saw her expression in one square, his in the other. But as he caught her gaze, they seemed to meld into one, the rapture she felt mirrored in his face. She closed her eyes, unable to fathom the possessiveness she experienced because of his touch. How could he be so in tune with what her body wanted and needed when he didn’t even know her? Every time she thought it, he did it. The man was an expert at knowing when to touch, how to kiss, where to caress and how much pressure he delivered to her 52
Phoenix Kiss
heated skin. She could become addicted to this if she wasn’t careful. He could become her weakness. As her orgasm crested, Jordan let out a cry of release as he came, gripping her hips. He shuddered against her, his damp forehead pressed to the middle of her back, her cheek flat on the cold surface of the counter. The only sounds in the room were their labored breathing and the gentle ticktock of the clock on the wall. He pulled her up, moved her hair to the side and placed a quick kiss on her shoulder. He shifted her around, grabbed the shirt off the floor and pulled it back over her head. “Where’d you park your car?” Her gaze swung up to his. “What?” “I know you didn’t park your car in the drive. Where’s your car?” Her stomach dropped. How could he switch himself off like that? Like nothing had happened between them? “On the street. A couple houses down. It’s a black Honda,” she murmured. He bent over, stuck his leg back in the pants of his pajamas and pulled them up. “I’ll go get it and park it in front of the garage. Where are your keys?” Layla hunched her shoulders. “Somewhere upstairs with my clothes, I guess.” “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.” “Could you bring me my purse? It’s in the trunk.” He nodded and before she knew it, dropped another condom she never knew he’d put on into the trash and disappeared upstairs. When her stomach clenched again, she realized it was her own fault. This man wasn’t her lover. Hell, he wasn’t even her friend. He’d already told her point-blank he didn’t like reporters. He was a story and sex was a means to an end to get that story. Every time he touched her, seduced her, she mistakenly made it more than it was.
53
Lyric James
She busied herself straightening up the kitchen, putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher, leftover food in containers and in the refrigerator. She kept the mantra going in her head that she wasn’t here on a date. They hadn’t gone out, enjoyed a leisurely dinner as a couple, come back to his house to make love. She paled at the thought of what doing any of that implied. It wasn’t love. It was sex. As she found her way back upstairs, she remembered that last week she’d made a bargain with her conscience to only use men for sex now. She wasn’t going to bother looking for Mr. Right anymore because he didn’t exist. By having sex with Jordan, she was getting two for the price of one—great sex and a story that would put her on the front page of the Tattler. Hell, if she got enough information and her editor approved, she could stretch the editorial out over a few weeks. She needed to get herself back on track and mentally find a way to keep Jordan from distracting her with sex again. When she made it back to his room, she crossed to the balcony. It was a beautiful night out. The sky was clear, the stars sparkled and the neighborhood was quiet except for a few croaking frogs, chirping birds and the occasional car that drove by. She felt Jordan come up behind her more than she heard him and that unnerved her. He slid his hand up her back and moved her hair again, kissing the nape of her neck. “I left your stuff on the bed. Want to join me for a dip in the pool?” “The pool? It’s after midnight.” “And?” “Why would you want to go swimming at this time of night?” “For the same reason I can cook in the middle of the night. It’s my house. It’s my pool. I can do what I want.” She laughed. “Fine. Let me check my messages first.”
54
Phoenix Kiss
When she did, she saw she had three voice mail messages from her editor, one from her mother and a text from her best friend. Why was her editor calling her again? Probably to check up on her because he knew what she was trying to do tonight. No, he didn’t know the extremes she’d planned to take, like breaking into Jordan’s home, but he knew she was going for the story. Jordan smiled and started to tug the shirt over her head again but she playfully squirmed away from him. “Can the messages wait?” he asked. “My editor’s called me three times. I need to call him back.” Somehow he managed to get the shirt off and when she was once again naked, which seemed to be happening an awful lot around him, he began to draw lazy circles across her back. “You’re not being fair.” He bit her shoulder. “What are you talking about?” “You haven’t answered one of my questions.” “Well, it’s hard to answer a question when you haven’t really asked me one.” She ducked away from his sensuous touch and moved around the bed. “That’s because you keep distracting me with sex and food. Stop it.” He shook his head. “Oh no. Sex is so much more fun than talking.” “Yes, true. But you promised. You get sex. I get a story.” He tackled her and they fell back on the bed laughing. “But isn’t this much more enjoyable than work? That other stuff can wait until the morning.” Jordan was on top of her now. When she reared up to try to kiss him, he avoided it and began nibbling on her neck. Why did he keep doing that? Who did he think he was? The male Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?
55
Lyric James
Did he think not kissing her kept him detached? From feeling anything for her? Falling in love with her? Ridiculous. Besides, she didn’t want him to fall in love with her. Did she? “You are not being fair,” she moaned like a petulant child as his tongue snaked over the lobe of her ear. “I think you said that already.” He kept nibbling and found his way back to her breasts. When her phone chirped again, he stopped. “Come on. Let’s go swimming.” He dipped his head to her neck. “I still taste icing on your skin.” As he began to pull her up, her phone continued to ring. When she reached for it, he stopped her. “It may be my editor again. Go on, I’ll be down in a second.” He acquiesced and headed toward the door. He removed his pants on the way and she watched his firm, naked butt walk away. Mercy. She slid her finger across the screen to answer. “Hello.” “I’ve called you three times already, Martin.” “I was busy. I was just about to call you back.” “I hope you’re busy getting an interview with Jordan Gaines, because the word came down from corporate late this evening.” Her pulse began to race. She knew what was coming. Rumors were circulating all over the newspaper. Jobs were probably going to be cut. People were going to be laid off. She may be a star reporter but that didn’t mean her job couldn’t be eliminated. “They’re cutting positions across the board. It’s between you and Emilia since you were the last two hired. So get me that story, Martin, or I’m going to have to let you go. You and the story need to be in my office at ten o’clock.” “I hear you.” She clicked off and slumped in the chair beside the balcony. 56
Phoenix Kiss
Chapter Six As Layla walked to the pool, Jordan admired how the black T-shirt he’d given her molded to her breasts and legs. Unaware of his perusal, she didn’t know he saw the forlorn look on her face before she masked it with a smile. Ask questions. Get the information. Keep your job. Each of her thoughts hammered into his brain like spikes and he flinched away from them. It was a reminder to him of the real reason she was there. It didn’t matter what he thought or how he was beginning to feel about her. And even though he shouldn’t care, he asked, “Is everything okay?” She gazed at him and smiled. “Yeah. It’s great.” He walked to her, leaned down and kissed her forehead. The need to kiss her, touch her, almost overwhelmed him sometimes, in stark contrast to what he wanted to feel. “I didn’t think you were going to come out.” “Sorry. My editor…the call took longer than I thought.” “Why don’t you forget about work?” He stroked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear just for the excuse of touching her again. “Come on. The water’s cool but this beautiful night is too perfect to waste.” And it was a nice night. It wasn’t too cold or too hot and the midnight-blue sky shimmered with stars. When Layla tilted her head up, a slow, gorgeous smile lit up her face. Taking her hand in his, he strolled to the pool, where she dipped her toes in and shivered. “You’ll get used to it.” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Besides, I don’t even have a bathing suit.”
57
Lyric James
“Did you forget that I’ve already seen you gloriously naked?” Watching him, she said, “You always do whatever you want to do, don’t you?” “Is that a problem for you?” She looked baffled and a little off-kilter at the same time. “I think living in this huge house all by yourself and running a major empire has gone to your head.” “Are you calling me self-centered?” At that, she actually laughed, a sound he thoroughly enjoyed. “Oh yes. You are a very self-centered man, Jordan Gaines.” He dove into the pool, let the cool water sink him under then rose to the surface. “Sorry,” he replied, shaking the water from his hair. “Oh no, you’re not. You’re exactly the person you want to be.” That tugged a grin out of him. He made waves in the water. “Are you coming in or what?” She took the shirt off. “You are conceited, vain, used to getting your own way and probably a pain in the butt to everyone who works for you, though I doubt any of them would say it to your face for fear of getting fired.” She placed her shirt on the edge and sat, sliding her legs in first. She rocked them back and forth in the water. That she was brave enough to speak her mind to him spoke volumes. There was no pretense. No guile. Any other woman would pander to him, let him have his way and wouldn’t dare criticize him. It was refreshing to be with a woman who didn’t care what he thought. He swam forward, took her feet and pulled. “Come on, you might as well get it over with.” She pushed off and slipped in, shivering from the cold. “You should have phoned ahead to let me know you were stopping by for a…visit. I would have turned the heater on for you.” He grinned. “You’ll get used to it in a minute.” 58
Phoenix Kiss
The strand of hair he’d tucked behind her ear stroked her face again. As her legs swirled around to keep her elevated in the water, he swam closer and put his arms around her waist. He enjoyed the feel of her thighs brushing against his. To savor the full experience, he tried to wrap her legs fully around him but she deflected him and swam away. “Nope. Not a chance, mister. You need a lesson in not getting your way for a change.” He laughed and went for her. But she gracefully pivoted and avoided his reach. “Oh, so you want to play games.” “No. You invited me for a swim, so I want to swim.” She dove under the water headfirst, her legs swinging and kicking above the surface before she swam up again. “And ask a few questions.” Great. The reporter was back. Jordan chased her around the pool for a few minutes. He was determined to have her in his arms again but surprisingly she was a pretty good swimmer. They laughed, splashed water on each other, raced each other from one side of the pool to the other. He couldn’t remember when he’d had so much fun. Later, they were lying in the gazebo face-to-face, propped up on their elbows, warm, fluffy towels wrapped around them. Since he never brought women into his home, he’d never realized how romantic the setting could be. The panels turned into sheer but private walls if you released them from their ties. He’d picked the chaise lounge because it was bigger than normal and he often liked sleeping out there on warm evenings. “Why is it the public never hears anything about your family?” He tilted his body to lie on his back. “I don’t have any family, biological anyway. The family that raised me died about fifteen years ago.”
59
Lyric James
She didn’t say anything. He knew she’d been performing mental calculations in her head when she said, “That means you were sixteen years old when they died.” “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know some of this because I looked you up. There wasn’t a lot to find. And believe me, I tried. What happened to you?” His mouth twisted wryly. “I came here, to California. It was one of the places my…guardian was stationed.” Layla gasped. “By yourself? Because you didn’t want to go into the foster care system or something like that?” He let out a harsh laugh. “I ran away before they could try. Another family wouldn’t have understood who I was, what I was. I thought it was best that I go out on my own.” “You lived on the streets?” Reaching over, he ran a finger over her temple and pushed the wayward strand of hair behind her ear again. “What else could I do? When I turned eighteen I applied for my G.E.D. and got a job, found a dirt-cheap apartment to live in.” Remembering those days now, it wasn’t as painful to talk about as it used to be. Why he’d decided to tell Layla, he didn’t know. Their worlds couldn’t have been more different, yet those differences fascinated him and for some reason, he felt she needed to know who he was. “Where I worked, my boss was really nice to me, his family sort of took me in. Showed me what I needed to do to get into college. I applied for grants and scholarships, loans. I did whatever I had to do. I knew the only way I was going to be anything, succeed at anything, I needed to go to college.” “So how does the kid who runs away at sixteen and gets his G.E.D. end up running a Fortune 500 empire?”
60
Phoenix Kiss
He grinned. “Oh, I had a thing for numbers, the stock market. It was happenstance really. When I was living on the streets, I always picked up people’s throwaway newspapers and read them from front to back. The stock market pages, I could understand easily for some reason. I could see the name of a stock and know immediately if it was going to go up or down. “When I guessed right a couple times, I really started to pay attention. I was never wrong. When I realized that, I saved a thousand dollars and invested it. I got my money back plus five thousand more six months later. I invested it again, over and over, the entire time I was in college. By the time I got out, I’d saved and earned close to a hundred thousand dollars.” She sat up and crossed her legs. “I know this part. That’s when you opened your first video rental store that became a nationwide chain.” “I gave the people what they wanted. After a few years, I sold it and started something else.” “The business software company and the hotel chain.” “You’ve done your homework.” “Well, there’s not that much out there about you but what I read, I remembered.” “And you were going to add it all to your story once you broke my sex scandal, right?” Her mouth opened and closed. Jordan waited and eyed her with amusement but knew she wouldn’t have much to say after that. She couldn’t deny it. He knew what she wrote. It was the whole reason for her being there. It was always about the story. She eyed him with an arousing mix of wariness and excitement. He could never forget the real reason he’d made the arrangement with her.
61
Lyric James
He stood and released the cotton curtain ties from each pole of the gazebo. No one would see them even if he hadn’t but after tonight, making sure his privacy was kept intact would be one of his top priorities. He retraced his steps, got back on the half bed, half chaise lounge and crunched the cotton ties in his hands as he crawled toward her.
When he stood and closed them in, Layla knew she was in trouble. She’d gotten to know him now. She admired what he’d done with his life and even though he could be self-absorbed, she liked the man he’d become. Taking care of himself from the time he was sixteen had to have been hard, scary even. It took guts. But he’d done it. Those things, combined with the sensual hold he somehow had on her, made him damn irresistible. Layla’s breathing became a little bit faster, a little bit shallow. Jordan took one of her wrists, circled it with the cotton tie and attached it to the legs of the bed. “What are you doing?” “Trust me.” When he repeated the process with the other wrist and both her ankles, she lay there, helpless. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Whenever you want me to release you, ask and I will. Okay?” She nodded and didn’t resist when he removed her towel. The heated gaze he gave her, seeing her like this, excited her, undid her, made her want to give him anything he wanted, anything he desired. Her breathing quickened and she fought hard not to panic. She didn’t do things like this, had never before been tied up during sex. She’d never been this vulnerable to anyone.
62
Phoenix Kiss
“You look so sexy lying there like that.” The timbre of his voice had changed. He stood at the foot of the chaise. “Are you ready to scream my name? Are you ready to beg me to start? To stop?” His words had her panting. He began at her feet, kissing, nibbling, rubbing. His touch felt like heaven, warm and assertive. Powerful. Tiny spasms shot upward, made her thighs tremble, and she strained against the ties at her wrists. A delicate air stream of heat went up and down her leg and she realized that it was him, blowing on her skin. A series of hot flashes broke out across her body, her nipples hardened and she felt the first release of hot cream between her legs. Jordan made circles over her knees. “Are you ready for me to taste you?” She bucked against him. “Yes…oh yes.” But he didn’t oblige her. He only grazed his finger over her clit, causing her to groan in ecstasy. He moved higher, teasing her stomach, licking the dent of her navel. A gasp hitched in her throat as she felt his breath over her nipple before he took it inside his mouth and pulled. She screamed, unable to help herself, as he went from one breast to the other and back again, kissing and teasing, sucking. White-hot pleasure seared her body from the inside out. Jordan’s mouth became an instrument of both pleasure and torture. He licked and bit, grazed and nipped. From her head to her feet and everywhere in between, he tasted her. Over and over he teased her, pleasured her. It was an utter blissfulness she’d never experienced in her life. Even though she twisted up and bucked out, cried and begged, he wouldn’t give her the release she craved. Finally, he untied her legs, grabbed her behind the knees and pushed them upward so her vulva rested against his throbbing length. She stretched her neck and moaned, loving the feel of him so close to her, sliding over her clit.
63
Lyric James
“I can’t take this. Please, Jordan.” Jordan smoothed his hands over her waist and ribs, and up higher to cup her breasts, gently squeezing them. He bent and fastened his mouth over one straining tip. “You taste so sweet.” With her knees, she gripped him. “Please. Please,” she begged on a whimper. Fire swept through her limbs, filling her with a restless need. She wanted him inside her, pushing deep. “I’m not done. There’s more. Always more.” His arousal stroked her, made her buck off the bed, stole her breath, until he finally sank himself inside her and filled her in a way she’d never thought possible. He had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. When he looked at her, she felt like the center of his universe. “My God. What are you doing to me?” In her mind, she heard making you love me in his deep timbre but his lips never moved. Why? She didn’t know. Was he projecting his thoughts into her head? Was that possible? Was that what he wanted? She knew it was unlikely, knew that when this night was up, she would most assuredly never see him again once she revealed his secret. He wouldn’t want her love. He wouldn’t want anything to do with her. He ran his tongue up her neck, nibbled on her ear, moved to her mouth and licked. Tugging at her bottom lip, he dipped his tongue inside, stopped and groaned then tilted his head to her neck, where he stayed. Wanting to touch him, she pulled against the ties at her wrists. She wanted to feel his sinewy muscle beneath the tips of her fingers, curve her arms around his neck and pull him so close he’d never want to relinquish her. “Let me go,” she whispered. His gaze went to hers. Her breathing was ragged, shaky. He released her but locked his fingers with hers and raised them above her head.
64
Phoenix Kiss
Jordan’s face was a mask of pleasure and pain, the cords of his neck standing out, the muscles in his shoulders tense. “Kiss me,” she breathed, unable to tear her eyes off him. At that, he lowered his head back to her neck and thrust powerfully, sinking into her, stretching and filling, an action that ripped a helpless cry from her throat. “Kiss me, damn it,” she hissed at him again, her head angling upward. But he still didn’t. Putting his forehead against hers, he thrust into her again and again, leaving her gasping for air. Layla went over the edge, falling, careening, no landing in sight. And Jordan leapt with her. A thundering cry ripped from his throat, his head tilted to the sky, eyes closed. After he collapsed on top of her, he pulled her against him and held her tight for a very long time.
65
Lyric James
Chapter Seven “This is a movie lover’s wet dream.” Layla stood back, hands at her waist, staring at a wall of shelves filled with DVDs. “How many do you have?” “A little over a thousand, I think, the last time I entered the new ones into my database.” They were in Jordan’s theater room on the second floor of his home. It was completely windowless and a giant one-hundred-and-ten-foot screen took up one wall. The movies took up another. There were two rows of theater seats, one about two feet higher than the other. All the walls were a deep navy blue and so was the carpet. “You have a database?” “I keep a record of every movie I buy, yes.” Layla shook her head. “For insurance purposes.” “Sure. I, however, think you do it because you’re anal.” “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes. Pick one already,” he told her as he made a huge batch of buttery popcorn on the old-fashioned maker sitting in the corner. “How can I? There’re too many. I mean, this is like telling a kid to pick out his favorite candy in a warehouse.” He laughed. “Either choose something or I will and you won’t like it because it’ll have blood and guts and car chases in it.” She peered at him over her shoulder. “Hey, I don’t mind a good action film.” “Good. Sit down then. I have just the thing,” he said as he gave her the tub. “Oh, this smells heavenly.”
66
Phoenix Kiss
She sat in the front row in the middle set of chairs and pulled her legs up under her. After they’d showered, Jordan had given her a pair of shorts, another T-shirt and warm socks. Once he put in the movie, he turned off the lights. When he saw her rub her arms, he tossed her an afghan and joined her in the next seat. Layla stuck the popcorn between them as the movie started. Once the title sequence came up, she exclaimed, “Oh, this is one of my favorites. I love Matt Damon. He kicks major butt in this series.” “Unwrap yourself,” he said and took her legs and placed them in his lap. The gesture was so unexpected, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, which surprised her. She’d almost made the mistake of thinking they were on an actual date again, thinking this was something they always did. The third or fourth time she’d made that error tonight. As she ate her snack, she couldn’t help but think about her predicament. She knew she had the story of the century but now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to tell it. But if she showed up for work tomorrow with no story, she’d be out of a job. She’d spent an incredible evening with Jordan and it wasn’t even over yet. He had a magnetic personality and she realized it was why he was so successful and what drew women to him. She was really beginning to like him and deep down she wished their relationship could turn into something more. But other than a few touches here and there, a casual gesture like putting her feet in his lap, he’d given her no indication they could be anything more. Layla knew she couldn’t have the best of both worlds. She’d broken in Jordan’s home, his private sanctuary, and had every intention of exposing his secret to the world. He wouldn’t want anything to do with her after she did. Did she save her career or follow her heart? After the movie, she accompanied him into his living room. They were facing each other on a large, cream-colored couch with dozens of multicolored throw pillows, 67
Lyric James
sharing warmed-up cinnamon rolls and orange juice. Two matching chairs sat adjacent to the couch, and in between the set was a square, glass coffee table. It was so domestic, it scared her. “How is it that instead of spending your evening with a boyfriend or spouse, you broke into my house and now you’re spending the night with me?” “Well, let’s be clear. If you would have graciously answered my questions, I wouldn’t be here.” “True. But where’s the fun in that?” Layla lowered her head. “Tonight has been fun.” She didn’t look at him, and became weirded out that she had actually confessed it. “Why don’t you have a husband or a boyfriend?” “I can’t seem to find anyone who…” She didn’t know how much she wanted to reveal with her answer. Did she tell him the last few relationships she’d been in had ended because the men didn’t believe in her, didn’t support her or have confidence in her abilities? Exactly like her parents. “Who what?” he probed. She stood and walked to the window facing the front of the house and stared into the darkness. “I haven’t found anyone who fits, who fits me. Does that make sense?” “Yes,” he said quietly. “I mean, they were okay guys I guess but when I expressed a desire to change my career, to take some time off and try to pursue my dream of becoming a writer, well, they didn’t actually encourage me. Told me to stick to what I was good at, stick to the career path I’d chosen.” Give up on her dreams. “Sounds like your parents.” “That’s what I thought too so after the last one I decided relationships aren’t for me.” She twisted around and grinned. “But I guess you know all about that.” Jordan quirked a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 68
Phoenix Kiss
“You don’t spend a long time in relationships either.” “Women begin to expect things like commitment if you’re with them for very long.” “Yeah, like marriage proposals.” Once upon a time she’d believed in love and relationships that eventually ended in marriage. But after so many failed attempts, as long as she found a guy to hit the right spot every once in a while, she didn’t need the rest. “And you don’t believe in love and marriage proposals?” “I believe in both. To the right person.” “But I have a feeling you’re not looking for the right person. Is there some type of special mating ritual for a phoenix?” He gave her a curious glance, a mix between irritation and she didn’t know quite what but she was sure he didn’t want to answer the question. “There’s not so much a ritual but an act that seals a bond between a phoenix and his or her chosen mate.” Layla knew what it was, instinctively, as soon as he said it. She’d wondered all night why he hadn’t and now she knew. “A kiss.” His gaze flew up to meet hers. After a beat, he nodded. “When a phoenix chooses a mate, he seals it with a kiss.” “You mean you’ve never kissed anyone? Ever?” Jordan laughed briefly. “It comes into effect during adulthood. I sneaked a kiss or two during my teenage years but other than that, no.” It hurt to hear it. Why did she expect meeting her would change him? Why did she think she was the one woman who fit him? She knew better. Why did she think spending one night with the most incredible man she’d ever met would change anything for him? It certainly had for her. “I guess you haven’t found anyone who’s fit you either?” He didn’t answer her. 69
Lyric James
Chapter Eight “Okay, what are all these for?” At his dresser, Jordan pulled out clothes and tossed them to her. A T-shirt landed right over her head and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Put them on.” Jordan was trying to keep them both busy, himself busy, really. He didn’t want time to think and he certainly didn’t want to hear her thoughts. After they’d made love…no, had sex…by the pool and spent a little more time together, his mind had become jumbled. She lifted the items up one a time. “Another shirt, two pair of shorts, a pair of pajama pants, two pairs of socks. Are we going to spend the rest of the night in a freezer or something?” Jordan pulled the same number of items out and put them on too. “Come on. Humor me. Get dressed and you’ll see.” She grudgingly got up. “Okay. But this is a little weird.” He smiled and sat on the bed to pull on his socks. When he looked back up again, he chuckled. “You look like a hobo.” She grabbed a pillow off his bed and tossed it at him. “Um…you don’t look like Mr. GQ yourself.” He glanced down. “Okay. Point taken.” He grabbed her and something sizzled. His fingers trailed upward until they moved over her lips. He framed her face and tilted it up slightly. Why was he standing there staring into her beautiful face? Why did a longing, so intense, begin to build in the part of his chest he’d allowed no one to ever touch?
70
Phoenix Kiss
His heart rate increased as he studied her. He was certain she could see the hunger in his eyes for something he’d only wanted to sample a few hours ago. Now, now he wanted to own it, possess it. When she came up on her toes, he lowered his head, warning signals blazing in the back of his brain. Her tongue slid out and coated her top lip and more than anything he wanted to take it into his mouth and taste it. Heat suffused his body. He wanted inside her mouth in the worst way possible. Before he allowed the flames to take hold, he kissed her cheek. “Let’s go,” he said and whisked her out the door and down the stairs, through the kitchen to another door and down some more steps. “Where are you taking me? Did you decide to lock me in the dungeon instead?” “Ha ha. Very funny.” After they moved down a long hallway, he walked through another door and flicked on the lights. “You have a bowling alley in your house. A bowling alley?” Moving away from her, he turned on the two lanes and opened the cabinets with the balls and shoes. “And you’ve been challenged to a game, madam. A game of strip bowling.” Layla rolled over laughing. “Are you serious? That’s why you had me put on all these clothes?” The melody of her laughter tugged at something inside him. The genuine smile and delight on her face opened a part of his heart that wasn’t open mere seconds ago. He shook it off, stored it away, trying to remember the plan, what he wanted to accomplish. Make her fall in love, not vice versa. “That’s right.” He motioned to the cabinet. “Go pick out a ball and a pair of shoes.”
71
Lyric James
She shook her head. “This is too much,” she said, a hint of laughter still in her voice. As she made her choices, she told him, “I hate to tell you, Mr. Gaines, but you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. You have challenged a master.” Jordan sat at a console and began to set up the lanes. “Oh, is that right?” “Yep. When I was in college, we bowled all the time.” He peeked at her over his shoulder. “That was like, twenty years ago, right?” She took a quick look at him, a sardonic expression on her face. “Oh, you got jokes now,” she said and resumed tying her shoe. “You’ll see. You might have met your match, mister.” In more ways than one, he thought as he moved to the second station. She was turning him upside down and inside out. He’d worked hard to avoid this. Every woman he’d dated his adult life, he’d made sure they knew the rules, understood that what happened between them was temporary. And that had worked fine with all of them. But Layla…Layla had stormed into his life and changed everything, changed him…changed his heart. But he had to stomp it down. He couldn’t let it happen. When he was done, the right lane had his name and scoreboard on it, the left had hers. “What are we playing for besides the joy of watching the other lose and seeing the other naked?” For the last few hours, Jordan had tried to come up with something to keep her from writing this story—from all-out seducing her, which he’d done, to bribing her not to tell his story, his secret, which he hadn’t done, hoping to use money as a last resort. But when he’d been in the shower, he’d thought about how much he enjoyed himself with Layla. The sex was outstanding but having her in his bed, cooking and sharing a meal with her, joking around, playing like kids, it was something he never did with a woman.
72
Phoenix Kiss
It was usually dining out at some fancy restaurant and then sex. That was it. With Layla, he was forced to do something completely different. He’d come up with playing strip bowling as he’d stepped out of the shower, because he wanted to continue having fun with her and to enjoy himself for a change. He’d never let someone in his home before for the sole purpose of having fun. It had always been his sanctuary. The one place he could be alone and be himself. Besides the guy from the cleaning company who came twice a month, there hadn’t been a soul in his home in years until Layla broke in and disrupted it all. And little did she know the wager she’d offered him was the perfect solution to make this story go away. Although he wasn’t so sure anymore that he wanted her to go away with it. “If you win, I’ll answer any questions you want me to answer.” He watched as her eyes lit up at this prospect. He frowned as he digested the look on her face. It quickly reminded him this was the reason she was here. She didn’t care about him. She was a reporter. The thing she wanted most was her story. His voice, once warm with amusement, now cooled. “If I win, you forget your story and forget you were ever here. Forget that you ever met me.” The look that crossed over her face was almost stricken. But with a shake of his head, he shut the part of himself down that cared one fucking iota about it. “Deal?” After a few seconds, she answered. “Deal,” she said quietly. They lost themselves in the game, each somewhere in his or her private thoughts. They took turns tossing their balls down the lane, and when she did, he couldn’t help but watch her. She aroused him with her wide, expressive eyes and the delicate, luscious lips he so achingly wanted to kiss but knew he couldn’t. And as she peeled each layer of clothing off her body, he wanted to be inside her. Every once in a while she’d look at him as if he were some type of tantalizing treat she couldn’t wait to sink her claws into. But that was sex. He wouldn’t confuse himself 73
Lyric James
by thinking it was anything more. His decision to make it strip bowling was a way to keep her mind on sex and not the exposé she planned to write. He’d planned to play the game, reduce the amount of clothes she wore and have sex with her again. They were so lost in their own thoughts now, it hadn’t turned out the way he’d wanted. When they got down to the last few frames, Layla still had on a pair of socks, a Tshirt and a pair of shorts. They’d decided that after each frame, whoever had the fewest points had to take off an item of clothing. Jordan had on a pair of shorts and a pair of socks. She swung her ball down the lane and asked him, “Is it true that when you die, you’ll be reborn?” He looked at the score and saw that she still held a slight lead. “You’re supposed to win before I answer any more questions or did you forget the wager of this game?” “No. I didn’t forget.” She paused before tossing her ball down the lane again. When she turned back, there was something earnest in her face that made him answer her. “I really want to know, wondered if the legends I read about are really true.” “I don’t live a lifetime to die and be reborn all over again. It’s not that simple and that would be too horrible for anyone, living your life over and over again.” “I imagine it would. I never really thought about it like that.” “We’re not immortal. We do live abnormally long lives, if nothing unforeseen happens like a car accident, an illness or something like that. But when we do die, another phoenix, another life is born in our place.” “So you never had parents?” “Something similar. We have guardians, people we live with as a family unit, who teach us our heritage and take on the role of parents. Each family of guardians passes the knowledge of our people down from generation to generation.” “So you have no sisters or brothers either?”
74
Phoenix Kiss
He smiled thoughtfully. “No, not biologically like a regular human. But there were other phoenixes raised with me. For all intents and purposes, Soren and Khyler are my sister and brother. Soren lives in Texas and Khyler lives in Florida.” “I’ve never heard anything about them.” “Which is exactly what I wanted.” “So before your guardians died, where did you grow up?” “I was an Air Force brat. We spent time in Alaska, Greece, different parts of the United States. I liked California best. That’s why I came back here before they could put me in a foster home.” “There wasn’t another guardian family who could take you in?” “No. I would have had to wait in foster care before someone came to claim me. Besides, I’d learned everything I needed to know about my heritage by then.” “You struck out on your own, became this well-adjusted, rich, powerful man who has a secret no one else can know.” That wasn’t exactly true, his mate could know. But she didn’t need to know that. “This is why you value your privacy so much.” “Exactly.” “You do make headlines when you begin dating another superstar or one of your companies makes some major multimillion-dollar deal.” “Yes. So why does the public need to know any more than that? Why is it so important to know what I eat for breakfast or what kind of soap I use or what size shoe I wear for that matter? Who cares?” He tossed his ball down the lane with so much strength, the pins made a crackling sound as loud as a crash of lightning. When he turned back to her, her fingers were splayed over her chest and she was breathing heavily. “Everyone does. Don’t you understand? Everyday normal people live vicariously through you, or people like you. Some look up to you. Some love you.
75
Lyric James
Some hate you. But they still want to know. They want to know why you and not them? What do I need to do to be like him?” He advanced on her as his ball rolled back into the return. “But that’s not what the Tattler wants to know. That’s not what you wanted to know. You broke in here expecting to find me with two, three women in my bed, tied up and dressed in women’s clothing or black leather and chains, with a dildo up my ass. Tell me I’m wrong.” “I…I…” Everything that had happened came crashing down on him like a three-hundredpound weight. He’d begun the night with a plan to seduce her, make her fall for him and convince her not to write her story, or to bribe her if he really had to. But instead he’d fallen for the damn woman. A woman like the one who’d ruined his guardian’s life, his life. “Don’t lie. You know I’m right. That’s what you write about. People’s secrets, the things they want to keep private. Intimate secrets that embarrass and make them go into hiding for years until someone else’s misery is exposed. You swoop in with your flashes and your cameras and your zoom lenses. One byline and a life is over. No coming back. No redemption. Even if they were innocent of everything, it takes months or even years for the truth to come out. By then it’s too late. They’ve gotten into a car, suffering from a hole of depression so deep they plunge everything that is good and decent inside them over a cliff to their deaths.” He was panting when he was done, anger slithering through him like a snake. She reached out to touch him but he jerked back. “Who did this happen to, Jordan?” He retreated and slung his ball back down the lane again and got another strike. He was up by two points now. “It doesn’t matter.” “Yes it does. It does to me.”
76
Phoenix Kiss
They were in the last frame and Jordan had one more roll. He’d been so upset he was surprised he’d knocked down all the pins. But as he calculated their points, even if he did get another strike, it didn’t matter. She still had three more throws and she was a damn good bowler, just as she’d said. He was still going to lose. “Why, Layla? For your story? Finish the fucking game.” “After everything we’ve done tonight, shared tonight, you really think that’s still true?” Damn, she was good. She even managed to look aggrieved and offended by what he said. “The only reason you’re here is because of the story. That’s it,” he spat.” “It’s true. I did come here for that, in the beginning.” He walked right up to her and leaned in, his face inches from hers. “What? Now you feel different? You like me now? Is that it?” She didn’t blink. “I do like you. Everything about you, everything I’ve learned. You’re a wonderful man.” Jordan took a step back, told himself to calm down. “But you’re still going to write your story, right?”
77
Lyric James
Chapter Nine Layla was torn. If she didn’t write the story, she’d be out of a job. That would mean running back home to her parents. She shook her head. Ooooh no, she couldn’t do that. Yes, she had a little savings, enough to get by for a few months, but what would she do after that? The economy freaking sucked. It wouldn’t be easy finding another job. Plus, Jordan hadn’t promised her anything. He hadn’t told her he loved her. He wouldn’t even kiss her, for goodness’ sake. The one thing she was truly sure of was that he hated reporters. And she was a reporter. “That’s what I thought. You enjoy exposing people’s secrets, making people miserable. That’s what you’re good at. Right? You’re proud of that. Instead of choosing a career that makes you happy, following your dreams, you decided to pick a job that destroys the lives of others.” Jordan walked past her to the door and flung it open. The knob slammed against the wall like thunder. His voice was flat and final. “You need two pins to win.” And then he was gone, his footsteps echoing up the hallway. Layla didn’t need to finish the game. God, is that what he really thought? That she enjoyed it…making people miserable? On some level, she had to admit that in the past, she did. She’d felt self-righteous. Obligated. In her mind, since they were stars and chose to be in the public eye, everyone needed to know everything about them. What kind of human being was she? Didn’t everyone, no matter who they were, deserve some semblance of privacy? She gazed around at the room. Isn’t that why Jordan had chosen never to give interviews, because that’s all he wanted? A little privacy to be himself?
78
Phoenix Kiss
Once she’d given up on her dream to be a writer, she’d told herself she would become a reporter and chronicle the world’s stories. She’d work for some worldrenowned paper, travel the country and eventually win a Pulitzer. But once she’d begun working for the Tattler, she’d given up on that dream as well. Had she viciously taken this job to spite her parents and make other people as miserable as she’d been during that time? She hadn’t even tried to find a smaller newspaper to work for. She could have easily gone to some small town or community, found a wellrespected newspaper and worked there, but she didn’t. She’d been so desperate to get out of her parents’ house, so full of humiliation every time a “thank you but no thank you” rejection letter came in the mail, that bitterness had grown inside her. Yes, she’d sat down once and written a manuscript but when it came down to it, she never had the courage to send it off. She tucked it in her drawer and forgot about it. What had she become? She’d been so busy exposing other people’s lives, she’d never taken the time to examine her own. Even though she’d gone about it horribly, she’d met this wonderful man whom she’d grown to care about and admire. Maybe a man she could have a future with. And now that she’d heard Jordan’s story, his secrets, did she really want to tell the world what it was? Did she want to destroy his life by telling the world about a mystical history guarded for a thousand years? Layla ran out of the room and shot up the stairs. “Jordan,” she yelled, running around the bottom floor of the house. It was so huge she doubted she’d been in all the rooms. The one she was truly familiar with was the bedroom where this entire venture had started. So she flew up the stairs to find him. But once she got there, the most dazzling sight met her eyes again. Daylight was just beginning and the sky was a pale blue so perfect, so clear, it made the red and gold of the sun bursting over the horizon majestic.
79
Lyric James
Then there was Jordan, gloriously naked as he’d been a few hours ago the first time she’d seen him, standing with his arms spread wide as if he was preparing for flight. And it hit her. “No. Jordan,” she yelled. “Wait.” He turned to her, his expression peaceful and serene despite what had happened between them. She ran to him but it was too late. His transformation had begun. It started in the center of his being to explode out and surround him in a blaze of shimmering crimson and gold, so beautiful it brought her to her knees. He lifted slowly into the air and hovered, his gaze on her holding her in place. Then he was gone. Layla gripped the hem of her shirt and lowered her head to her lap. When she stood and gazed around, she took in the room knowing it would be the last time she’d see it. The beautiful ornate furniture handcrafted for him, the intricately woven afghan hanging over the end of the chair he liked to read in. And on the bed, her clothes neatly folded with a letter on top.
Be gone when I get back. Have fun writing your story.
Two hours later, Layla sat behind her desk at the Tattler, her story completed, the black cursor winking at her from the end of the last period of her sentence. Her fingers hovered over the delete button. This wasn’t who she wanted to be anymore. Her boss had given her the evil eye, walked past her desk several times already this morning, and he was now pacing the width of his office. The black-and-white clock on the wall looked morosely back at her as time clicked away. It was 9:50. She couldn’t do it…wouldn’t do it.
80
Phoenix Kiss
Even if she stood no chance in hell of having a life with Jordan, she’d decided her life would change. It wouldn’t be one of destruction but one of love and creativity. Already, the novel she’d written was in a package in her bag, ready to be sent to a publisher. She wouldn’t give up on her dreams any longer. A huge weight pounded up and down on her shoulders. As she was about to hit and hold the backspace button on her keyboard, her telephone rang, saving her. She allowed a huge gush of air to rush out of her lungs before she answered. “Layla Martin.” A voice she didn’t recognize spoke. “Ms. Martin, this is Karla White, Mr. Gaines’ publicist. He wanted me to let you know he will be giving a press conference across the street in five minutes if you’d like to attend.” Layla’s gaze shot to the window. Sure enough, a crowd of reporters and TV cameras were set up. So engrossed with her own moral dilemma, she hadn’t even looked outside. She stood and stared down at the screen. This time there was no hesitation. She hit escape and her story vanished. She grabbed the recorder from the corner of her desk and raced to the exit. He was going to tell the world himself and she had to stop him. As she moved through the door, her editor yelled behind her but she ignored him. Not bothering with the elevator, she flew down the steps two at a time, thankful that she’d worn flat-heeled shoes. Across the street, she elbowed her way to the front of the crowd. She scanned around the raised dais but didn’t see him. Circumventing the small stage, she went to the building entrance but was held back by two of Jordan’s security personnel. “Please, I need to speak to Jordan. Mr. Gaines.” “Ma’am, you’ll have to go back and wait for the press conference like everyone else.” “Please, you don’t understand. I can’t let him do this.”
81
Lyric James
Jordan, his publicist and two other people she didn’t know came out another door. “Jordan,” she yelled. They all turned to her but the only important one was Jordan. “Don’t. Don’t do it.” He murmured something to the people around him then nodded his head to the two guys holding her back. They let her go and she moved forward. She wrung the bottom of her shirt. “You don’t have to do it. I’m not going to write the story. I’m not going to tell anyone.” Surprise flickered across his face but he didn’t say anything. Jordan took her arm and stepped a few feet away from his staff. “You were right. I did give up on my dreams and I used that anger and resentment to do my job, to hurt other people. But I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m going to quit and do what I should have done a long time ago. Pursue my dreams and write.” She wanted to pull him into her arms, beg him to forgive her and let him know that the eight hours she’d spent with him were the best she’d experienced in her life, but now was not the time. She’d probably never get a chance to tell him. “I know…I know there’s no future for us…that last night was it, but I wanted to let you know. Don’t go up there and tell anyone what you are. You deserve your privacy. Everyone has secrets and you deserve to have yours too. I’m sorry that I ever jeopardized that.” Never again would she use someone’s life against them. In fact, maybe the next story she sat down to write would be about a reporter who learned a man’s terrible secret, a wonderful man like Jordan, and instead of telling his story, she fell in love. Sort of like life imitating art, she guessed. “I just wanted to let you know.” Jordan gazed down at her, his expression unreadable. “Thank you.” He nodded to the rest of his team and walked to the stage. She felt as if her chest were caving in. The agony reached inside her so deep she wanted to fall to the ground
82
Phoenix Kiss
and weep. As Jordan stood to the side of the podium, his publicist began the press conference. “Ladies and gentleman. Thank you for coming on such short notice. Mr. Jordan Gaines will make a brief statement. He will not answer any questions now. But at the end of his announcement, Mr. Gaines will select one reporter to accompany him upstairs to answer any questions.” She stopped and gazed at the crowd to make sure they understood. She motioned to Jordan. “Mr. Jordan Gaines.” Layla stuck her fists in her jacket pockets. In one, she found the recorder she’d grabbed off her desk. Absently, she turned it on. In the other, the letter of resignation she planned to turn in as soon as she went back across the street to her office. At least having the recorder would allow her to go back and replay what he said. She would keep it so she could hear his voice anytime she wanted. Pathetic but it was all she had left. When she heard her name, she jerked her head up. Jordan’s publicist was walking off the dais to the front of his building. “Ms. Martin, if you would follow me. I’ll escort you upstairs for your interview with Mr. Gaines.” Her mind had been such a whirl of emotion she hadn’t heard one word of his speech. She didn’t even know what the press conference had been about. How was she going to ask him any questions about it? Numbly, she followed the woman inside the building and to an elevator that had to have gone up at least thirty stories. They stepped out, into a waiting area with a row of comfortable black chairs on each side. The walls were painted a pale blue. A dark-oak coffee table in the center held a single vase with short-stemmed red roses. A woman she guessed was Jordan’s administrative assistant sat behind a huge cherry-wood desk. “You can go right in,” she said. Karla nodded then retreated down a hallway to the right.
83
Lyric James
On leaden feet, Layla stepped in Jordan’s office. Why in the world did he choose her for this? The woman who broke into his home and threatened the one thing he worked so hard to keep secret? Why would he give her the story? He stood facing the window, staring out at the clear, blue sky. He turned and she raked her eyes over him, memorizing every feature. Something simmered in his eyes that she couldn’t quite decode. “I wanted to thank you again for not telling the world my secret.” “I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do anymore. Especially after I got to know you and understood why it needed to stay a secret.” “Is that the only reason you changed your mind?” Everything inside her began moving in slow motion, the blood running through her veins, the beat of her heart. It felt as though she was experiencing every millisecond of every beat. Layla didn’t know what he was asking her, what he wanted to hear. She really didn’t know if she was brave enough to say any of it. She wanted to tell him but every cell inside her feared rejection. “No, it’s not the only reason.” Jordan moved around his desk to stand in front of her. As always, he was dressed impeccably in a black suit, crisp white shirt and crimson-and-gold tie, reminding her of the phoenix waiting to transform inside him. “Why else?” An odd sensation eased through her limbs. She’d spent too many years terrified of rejection, preferring to strike first instead of letting anyone else get close. Not anymore. Love was worth the risk. Even if he rebuffed her and told her there was no future for them, at least she’d know she tried. She might not be able to live without him but she could live with that. She stared at her feet. “I love you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
84
Phoenix Kiss
“You’ve known me for less than a day and you expect me to believe you’ve fallen in love with me?” Shaking her head, she said, “No. I don’t expect you to believe me at all. But I want you to know anyway.” From somewhere inside her a burst of courage pushed through. “Last night was the first time I let my guard down with anyone. I wasn’t trying to impress you or be someone that I wasn’t. I told you things I’ve never told anyone else. The minute you walked away from me in the bowling alley, it felt as if a part of me was leaving. I was going to tell you how I felt then but you changed and flew away.” Jordan moved closer and she had to lift her head to look into his eyes. He traced a finger over her cheek. “When I got back, you were gone.” Tears swam in her eyes. “You told me not to be there.” “I know. I realized that I was running from life just like you were. I’d spent years guarding my privacy, blaming every reporter for what one person did. I’ve let that one thing dictate my existence for far too long. That’s why I gave the press conference today.” Layla smiled. “I don’t even know what you said.” A corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Wait a minute, you went through all that trouble to break into my house to get a story about me and you didn’t even listen to what I said at my very first press conference?” Layla shook her head again and felt the pressure of the day slowly ease out of her chest. “Nope.” “Are you ready to interview me, Ms. Martin?” Despite the fact that she was going to quit her job and pursue her dream to write, Jordan was giving her the interview every reporter dreamed of. The funny thing was, now every paper in the country would want to interview her or offer her a job. She took her recorder out of her pocket. “Oh, I forgot I left this on. Do you mind if I keep recording?”
85
Lyric James
“No, not at all.” Jordan led her to a small conference table where they sat, and for the next hour she asked every question imaginable. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to do this.” “Well, I figured since you did beat me in strip bowling last night, I owed you.” She laughed and stood. “That’s right. I beat you fair and square.” When he moved forward and cupped her face, her throat tightened and tears once again prickled behind her eyes. This was the last time she’d be with him like this. His thumb trailed over her bottom lip. The heat in his eyes made Layla’s heart beat wildly. “Tell me again,” he said. Instinctively, she knew what he wanted to hear. “I love you,” she whispered. “I believe you and now that business is over…” Jordan wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in. Layla gasped. “What are you doing?” “I’m going to kiss you, if that’s all right,” he said in a husky voice that rumbled deep from his gut. “Yes, but. That means…” She dared not utter the words, lest she was imagining what was happening between them. Her heart performed a series of happy, joyful flutters when he captured her mouth in his. It was a delicious, intoxicating kiss that robbed her of breath. His tongue probed inside and twined with hers in a dance so old she wanted to find the originator of the kiss and thank him from the bottom of her heart. While Jordan made sweeping, swirling motions inside her mouth, his hand cupped one breast and slid a thumb over her nipple until it was a turgid bud. He bit lightly at her bottom lip, licked it then slid into her mouth again.
86
Phoenix Kiss
All Layla could do was helplessly open to him as his lips and tongue gave her an unadulterated lesson in lovemaking. She heard a keening noise and realized, dimly, that it was coming from her own throat. Her body shook and she clenched his arms. Dizziness swarmed inside her head and the erotic sensation of his tongue rubbing against hers drove everything from her mind but need. All around her and through, she felt heat blazing, heat tempered by unexpected coolness. When she peeked at Jordan between her lashes, she gasped. They were surrounded by a burst of crimson and gold flames. She reared back and gazed at him in wonder as it dissipated around them. Jordan nibbled at her lip. “It means that I would like you to be my mate, my partner, my lover…forever. I love you, Layla.” His softly spoken words made shivers run from the tips of her eyelashes all the way down her spine. Happiness tinged with warmth and desire ran through her. He wanted her. Forever. Before she could respond, he leaned in to kiss her with a passion Layla felt down to her toes. He found her lips with the tip of his tongue, tasting ever curve and corner between her upper and bottom lip, taking his time to brand her as his. His mouth seared her with its potent heat. A low sound came from deep in his throat, as if he were a caged beast on the verge of escape. Layla threaded her fingers into his soft hair and pulled him closer. Suddenly he was conquering her mouth, showing her exactly what it meant to be mated to a phoenix. As his strong arms encircled her, she finally felt safe, the fear of rejection no longer an entity in her soul. When she pulled back to gaze at him, she said, “So that was a phoenix kiss. Now I understand why you can’t kiss every woman like that.” “Only you, my love. Only you.” The End
87
About the Author Lyric James began writing romance after the stories in her head just wouldn’t shut up. And that’s really a problem when you’re standing up in front of a bunch of middleschool students. She graduated from high school, went to college and quit because she had a car note to pay. She’s held such jobs as receptionist, administrative assistant, medical clerk and lifeguard. After she had her first child, Lyric decided she was an adult and ready to go back to college. Having received a Bachelor’s in Organizational Management and a Master’s in Library Media and Information Technology, she now spends her days surrounded by one of the things she loves most—books. Lyric has been married to her own hero for over thirteen years and has two daughters, one son and a Doberman named Blue, because her husband loves the Duke Blue Devils. She has one brother, several rather adorable nieces and nephews, super parents and a wonderful grandmother who always reminds her that enduring love is possible, even after 50 years of marriage to Lyric’s grandfather. Multi-published in several genres, including contemporary, romantic suspense and paranormal, Lyric is also an avid reader and “listener” of books, and her collection includes her favorite authors: Catherine Coulter, Nora Roberts (J.D. Robb), J.K. Rowling, Kate Collins, Janet Evanovich, Cinda Williams Chima, Charlaine Harris, Rick Riordin and Brenda Jackson. Lyric welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at
[email protected].
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com
