Better Than Chocolate...

“Poor choice of words. He’s my counterpart.”

She could backpedal all evening, but the truth as she saw it lay in her initial response. Ethically, he should speak up and admit his true identity. He’d actually tried to earlier, but she had turned down his offer. And he was much more likely to gain insight into her and her plans if she didn’t know who he was. An even more compelling justification for keeping his mouth shut was that Eve wasn’t likely to stay for dinner if she knew he was Jack LaRoux. At least not on the terms he wanted her to stay. All told, self-interest far outweighed ethics.

“Counterpart sounds like a much more interesting position than rival,” he said.

“Perhaps.”

“Oh?”

“A truly interesting position would be to become both.” Sensuality threaded her voice.

This was the way he’d seen her, fantasized about her even. She was his equal, yet also his rival, and they were locked in a struggle for domination. Arousal, swift and intense, arrowed through him.

Unfortunately, the waiter arrived for their drink order. Or perhaps it was fortunate, as it gave him a chance to recover his equilibrium.

They ordered coconut prawns and a bottle of wine, sommelier’s choice.

Jack wasn’t hungry for prawns or anything else on the menu. Dinner had merely been a way to get her to see him again. And that was even before he knew who she was. Eve was the most enigmatic, self-possessed women he’d ever met. His younger sister, Marta, would crucify him as a sexist pig, but the truth was, most of the women he knew couldn’t wait to tell him all about themselves. He’d never met a woman more closemouthed—or one he wanted to know about more.

“I’m glad you came,” he said.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t?”

He shrugged. She hadn’t shown overwhelming enthusiasm when he offered the invitation. “I hoped you would.”

Skeptical amusement lit her eyes. “Have you ever been stood up?”

He smiled. Busted. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Hmm. I can’t imagine you have many first experiences left open.”

“There’s enough.” He’d had his fair share of sexual experiences, but he had a feeling making love to Eve would be something truly unique.

“Such as?” she asked.

Probably best not to bring up making love…yet. “I’ve never been married or engaged. I’ve never forfeited a handball game.” He smiled. “There’s a whole range of first experiences waiting for me.” Including you.

The waiter arrived with the wine. After the obligatory sniff and taste test, he poured two glasses of the pale drink and left.

Eve traced the glass rim with a neat, unpolished nail and picked up their conversational thread. “How about love? Have you ever been in love, Jack?”

Ah, the irresistible topic of love. “No. I’ve never succumbed to the power of Aphrodite.” He paused as she raised the wineglass to her full, generous mouth and sipped. “But then again, Aphrodite’s a myth.”

“Delicious,” she said, complimenting the wine and regarding him over her glass rim. “Love’s a myth?” She didn’t display feminine outrage, merely amused interest.

“Love’s a shadow puppet. People hide their real emotions and motivations behind it. Lust, passion, obsession, manipulation. Cloak them in the guise of love and all’s right with the world.” For her, for now, he would pretend to be himself, which worked out because he drew the line at pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

Eve tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. “It must be difficult.”

“What?”

“To view the world through such a dark shade of cynicism,” she said, her tone more amused than mocking.

He shrugged. “I manage.” He was what he was. “What about you, Eve? Have you ever been in love?”

“No.” She didn’t hesitate. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

Unflappable. Composed. She stared at him with those beautiful eyes. “Ah. Are you that delicious garden variety who considers herself one lucky date away from destiny?”

She laughed, a low chuckle that strummed through him. “Perhaps…but not tonight, Jack.”

“Touché.” And that was good news. Wasn’t it?

“What? Aren’t you relieved?”

“Absolutely.” He didn’t buy into that destiny nonsense. But he did believe in the strong attraction sizzling between them. Her emotional distance spurred his desire to hold her close. He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

She put her hand in his and stood. Energy pulsed between them. He led her to the floor and drew her into his arms. She fit perfectly…at least for the night.

Her subtle scent and warm flesh teased him. He glanced into her eyes, crystal-clear pools alight with humor and intelligence, and a touch of mockery. She was warm, fluid, graceful and totally unreachable, even though he held her in his arms.

His intense reaction to Eve surprised him. What was it about her? She wasn’t overly beautiful, accomplished, or even particularly well dressed. But the fact remained, he wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman in a long time, perhaps ever. There was the element of the forbidden, the unattainable, about her. Perhaps he wanted her for the same reason she wanted to call a stranger Jack. The thought of this self-possessed woman as a conquest…His cynicism didn’t exclude himself and Jack always got what Jack wanted.

The song ended and they returned to the table. During their dance, the waiter had delivered their orders.

“You’re quite a good dancer,” he said. And she was—with a strong partner. Otherwise she would’ve slipped into the lead.

“Thanks.” Eve forked a plump, succulent shrimp. “My mother insisted all of us have ballroom dance classes. Learning to tango at Arthur Murray Dance Studio qualified as teen torture, but it’s paid off. Except I do have a tendency to try and lead….” She smiled and then neatly bit the shrimp in two.

He couldn’t contain an answering smile, charmed by her self-assessment. “I noticed.”

She grimaced. “I’m sure you did. My instructor used to say dancing with me was more work than pleasure.”

His body still held the imprint of her heat, her scent, her soft curves. “Then he obviously never danced with you once you’d grown up.”

She smiled. “I’ve changed a little bit since I was fourteen. What about you? Where’d you learn to dance like that?”

“It was a required course at boarding school. I got top marks in my class.”

He sounded like a desperate adolescent trying to impress the pretty girl who refused to be impressed. He’d witnessed it countless times, but he’d never been in the position himself. Not until now. He didn’t relish the role.

“It shows,” she said.

“If you’re going to do anything, you should do it well. I go for top marks every time.” And she’d do well to remember that.

“Everything?” Husky innuendo underscored the challenge.

“Everything.”

“My older brother once told me that beautiful girls weren’t as good in bed because they felt like it was enough of a treat for the guy to simply be there with them.”

Jack laughed, startled by her candor. He’d drawn the same conclusion on more than one occasion. But he’d be damned if he’d ever had a date voice it. Once again, she wrestled the upper hand from him.

“Are you warning me or is that a general observation?”

“Neither. I’m quizzing you. Is that the way it is with men?” How did she manage to be so blunt and bold, yet remote? As if he amused her, for the moment.

“I don’t know. I’ve never slept with a beautiful man and I don’t intend to start. Not even to satisfy your curiosity.” He delighted in misconstruing her meaning.

“There are far better ways to satisfy my curiosity as to whether breathtakingly handsome men try as hard.”

Jack’s ability to visualize was one of his greatest assets in his job. And right now he could visualize very clearly Eve naked beneath him, her ankles hooked over his shoulders, his hands gripping her thighs, while he proved just how hard and thoroughly he could convince her.

“I’m sure I could satisfy…your curiosity. As I said before, I go for top marks in everything.”

“Interesting. We do seem to have a lot in common. I, too, have a compulsion to be the best. That’s one of the reasons I’m here. To show my competitor that there’s only one spot at the top and it’s mine.”

“Jack? Your rival?”

“Jack.”

“So this is business?”

“Monday it’s business. This weekend is pleasure.”

The way pleasure rolled off her tongue brought out the best of Jack’s visualization skills again, arousing more than his intellect.

“You like being on top?” he asked. Instant image—her astride him. Instant erection.

“Absolutely.”

“And how do you think Jack will take you being on top?” he asked softly.

She shrugged one nearly bare shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll take it like a man.” A slow, wicked smile crooked her mouth. “How would you take it, Jack?”

As much as he hated being predictable, he was a man and her provocative choice of words tightened his entire body. “I’d uphold my end of the deal…until I could reverse positions. What if you don’t come out on top, Eve? What if Jack gets that spot?”

“He won’t.”

Jack recognized bluffing when he saw it. Eve wasn’t. She spoke with absolute conviction, as if she already owned the equipment account.

He’d seriously miscalculated. When he won the vice presidency, Eve wouldn’t be part of his team. Now that he’d actually met her, he knew she’d never work under him. Eve the Avenger was as good as gone.

Which left him free to do what he’d wanted to all evening—kiss her remarkable mouth until her composure shattered to hell and back.

3

JACK WANTED to kiss her. Eve saw it in the intensity of his look. And while she wasn’t sure that she particularly liked him, she did want to kiss him. Badly. Actually, she’d like to have her wicked way with him until they were both singing the “Hallelujah Chorus.” But the telling would be in the kiss. Sometimes reality simply didn’t live up to fantasy’s expectations.

She looked for a conversational opener other than, Would you like to explore how hot things can get between us? “Would you like a prawn?” she asked.

He pushed his plate away with one finger. His eyes fastened on her mouth. “No. I’m not hungry for the prawns,” he said, his voice low and soft.

Anticipation blossomed deep in her belly and pooled between her thighs. She returned the look, letting him see the want that surged through her.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Jack signaled the waiter, who promptly appeared with the bill. After paying the check, Jack rose to his feet and pulled out Eve’s chair. It was a gallant gesture very few men bothered with and something about it struck Eve as sexy. Well, actually, right now, anything short of seeing toilet paper stuck to the bottom of Jack’s shoe would probably strike her as sexy.

They wound their way through the tables. His fingers rested at the indent of her waist and seared her through the fabric. His scent, expensive and unmistakably masculine, seduced her.

Her pulse was thundering and she wanted to kiss him quite desperately. And if the look in his eye was a barometer, he felt the same.

Urgency sent them ducking through the first unmarked door outside the restaurant. Jack tugged her into a small hallway behind him. Despite the haze of desire surrounding her, Eve had the presence of mind to notice a service elevator to the left and the muted sounds of the busy kitchen partially contained by a door straight ahead.

Jack turned to Eve and bracketed her shoulders with his hands. “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you at the pool.”

His head lowered by slow degrees, plenty of time for her to protest or twist away. Instead, she slid her arms around his waist and murmured a breathy yes.

Anticipation coursed through her, heightened her awareness of his hands on her, his scent, the hint of wine clinging to his warm breath as he leaned closer.

His lips settled against hers. Sure. Firm. Commanding. He tasted of warm male and cool, crisp wine. And detachment. There was something very contained about his kiss that she wanted to let loose. She’d seen the heat behind his droll air. She’d felt it rush to fill the space between them, around them, within her.

He lifted his head. His dark gray eyes held a slightly dazed look and Eve reconsidered. Perhaps he wasn’t as contained as he seemed.

For a second she questioned the fairness of using this stranger as a fantasy stand-in. Then she dismissed the idea. They were just two strangers in the night. For all she knew, she was his stand-in for someone else as well.

He stroked her arms, featherlight caresses that weighted her limbs with a heated lethargy and chased away all other thought. He rained equally light, teasing kisses along her jaw.

Eve closed her eyes and absorbed the sensations. The faint scrape of his beard. The mingled scents of expensive cologne, professionally laundered clothes, and wine. His warm mouth maddening against her skin, her body alternately tightening and softening with desire.

“Oh, Jack.” She plied her fingers along his lean back.

Beneath his silk shirt, his muscles grew taut under her fingertips.

“Eve…” His husky murmur stroked through her.

She pulled him close and nibbled at his mouth with small, sucking kisses. He groaned and plowed his fingers into her hair, wrecking her loose upsweep. Some of his detachment tumbled along with her hair. Yes. Much better. Eve smiled her satisfaction around the kisses she delivered.

He molded his fingers against her scalp and ground her mouth to his for a no-holds-barred, devouring kiss.

Heat flashed through her. Need consumed her—the need to touch and be touched, to simultaneously sate and tempt. She wrapped her leg around his, feeling the hard line of his thigh and his jutting erection pressing against her. He smoothed his hands over her back and cupped her buttocks, pulling her tighter, harder against him. Her breasts strained against the hard wall of his chest. His scent, one she would forever associate with intense, piercing arousal, surrounded her.

In the recesses of rational thought, a ding registered. Barely.

“Excuse me.”

Eve and Jack broke apart. A uniformed staff member stood expectantly with a room-service cart. Eve realized she and Jack were blocking his exit. Tugging her dress down, Eve moved aside so the waiter could pass.

Once upon a time, like pre-tonight, she might’ve been mortified to be caught in a semipublic makeout session. Now she was simply caught up in the throes of heavy-duty lust with no room for embarrassment.

“Sorry about that,” she apologized as she moved aside.

“No problem.” The blushing waiter trundled past and pushed his cart through the kitchen door.

Jack turned to her. “We should probably find a less public place.”

“I know just the spot.” Eve hit the call button and tugged him into the elevator with her when it opened. “Are you claustrophobic?” she asked over her shoulder as she pressed the close button.

“No, I’m not.” Jack stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Eve pushed the stop button and leaned back into his lean body. He nuzzled the side of her neck and the back of her shoulder, his arousal nudging between her buttocks.

“Mmm.” Eve sighed her approval.

“Where do we go from here, Eve?” he asked, his lips never leaving her bare neck.

“Wherever we want it to take us.” She turned in his arms to face him. Leaning in close, she let her voice drop to a husky octave. “Where do you want to go, Jack?”

“What destinations are available?”

“Paradise. But it’s not a one-way ticket. We can’t stay and we’ll end up back where we started. But it should be an interesting trip with a few excursions along the way.”

“Are you sure you want to offer this trip?” he asked. She saw how much he wanted her, in the harsh lines of his face, the heat in his eyes; felt it in the hard ridge of his arousal, the brush of his lips. Yet he’d offered her the chance to change her mind. It was charming, sweet even, and altogether too romantic for a one-night stand.

“Positive. As long as you realize it’s a one-time offer,” she said.

“What if I enjoy paradise so much I want to go back?”

“Return fare isn’t an option.” No way. She wasn’t making another bad man decision. Besides, she was already thinking of a more immediate problem. She had never had a one-nighter and she wasn’t sure of safe-sex etiquette. “When visiting a foreign place, safety precautions are a necessity. Are you suitably equipped?”

He offered a wry smile. “I’m ready for travel.”

Thank God. “Then what’s your room number, Jack?” Going to his room kept her in control of the situation. Then she didn’t have to worry about getting him out of her room afterward.

“How do you know I’m not Jack the Ripper?”

She started. How did he know LaRoux’s nickname? Then she dismissed the notion. Of course he didn’t know Jack. It was a standard play on the Jack of infamy.

She got the impression he wasn’t used to picking up women for one night either. At least not successfully, given all the opportunities he kept offering her to back out.

“I’m a black belt. I can take care of myself.” Her mother had insisted she have every obscure training known to man. As a result, Eve knew a little bit about a lot of things but was a master of none. Technically she was only an orange belt, but he didn’t need to know that. He, however, should be more careful picking up strange women. “How do you know I’m not that crazy woman from Fatal Attraction?”

“Even if you were, I don’t have a wife or a bunny. Besides, a woman who doesn’t want my real name isn’t likely to stalk me.” His warm breath brushed against her neck. And then his mouth was doing the most incredible things to the tip of her earlobe, a nibbling/laving combination that feathered sensation down her spine.

“Oh…” she sighed. She thumbed his flat, male nipples through his shirt and his entire body tightened against hers.

“Eve…”

“Jack, we’ve got about one minute before someone checks out why this elevator’s stopped.” She would be mightily bent if this fantasy were interrupted now….

He reached around her and pushed a button, rendering the elevator operational again. “I want more than a minute to satisfy your curiosity.” He clasped her hand in his and brought her hand to his lips. His warm breath and firm lips grazed the sensitive flesh of her palm. She shuddered. “You do remember when the topic came up, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes.” Her hip pressed against him and she laughed, a low husky chuckle she barely recognized as her own. “And it’s still up.”

“Well, I’m going to try very hard. I think it will probably take more than once. Sometimes brief and to the point is good. Other times a lengthier, more in-depth approach brings greater satisfaction. I think we should try both and see which you prefer.”

“I’d like to start with brief and to the point. I’m not sure I have the patience to make it through the longer version. But I do think we need to get to your room.”

Jack reached around her and pushed the button for the fourth floor. Finally, they were on their way. Eve buried her fingers in his hair and tugged his mouth down to hers for another melting kiss.

This man, or perhaps it was the circumstances, had stirred a hunger in her that she’d never felt before. Except maybe those fantasies she’d contrived around Jack LaRoux.

The doors slid open and Jack dragged his mouth from hers with flattering reluctance. He kept his arm wrapped firmly around her, his hand intimately branding her hip as they left the elevator. He paused, obviously disoriented. “Oh, yeah. It’s this way,” he said.

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