Bedded for His Pleasure: Bedded by a Bad Boy / In the Gardener's Bed / The Return of the Rebel

CHAPTER SIX

‘GET a grip, woman!’ Jessie stalked over to her wardrobe.

The cerise linen dress she shoved back in was the fourth outfit she’d tried on in less than twenty minutes. Staring into the snarl of colours and fabrics, she resisted the urge to stamp her foot.

What on earth was the matter with her?

Why did she care what Monroe thought of her outfit anyway? Determined not to waste any more time on a decision that should have taken her ten seconds, she grabbed the first thing that came to hand.

You could never go wrong with the old little black dress, she thought as she slipped the slinky Lycra sheath over her head.

She examined herself in the wardrobe’s full-length mirror, caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Was the outfit maybe a little too sexy for an evening barbecue with her family? She could picture Monroe’s lazy smile. The hot look in his eyes.

Stop it, you silly cow. The LBD was fine; he probably wouldn’t even notice that the material clung a little too closely to every curve.

She never should have invited him. She’d known this was going to happen. She slammed the wardrobe door and slipped on a pair of simple red pumps. She pulled a matching silk scarf from the array in her dresser and tied it loosely round her neck. She might have guessed she would blow this completely out of proportion.

She didn’t know what it was about Monroe, but whenever she was near him she was so brutally aware of him she couldn’t seem to think about anything else but the feel of his lips on hers. His long, strong body pressed against her. It was ridiculous—they’d only shared one kiss and he’d made it quite clear that, for him at least, it had just been play-acting. But her flustered response when their fingers had touched over the water glass that afternoon went to show she could not be trusted to keep her cool around him.

She was a grown woman. She did not have crushes. She’d just never been kissed like that before and she still needed a bit more time to settle.

The way she was feeling at the moment, twenty-five years probably wouldn’t be long enough.

Jessie stepped out into the hallway and closed the door to her room. Relax and breathe, she told herself as she walked stiffly down the stairs.

Jessie was both relieved and disappointed when she walked out onto the terrace and saw that Monroe wasn’t there yet.

The night was balmy and warm and the smell of jasmine hung in the air like a rich woman’s perfume. The fairy lights Linc had rigged up over the barbecue winked in the dusk and reflected off the surface of the pool like cheeky little water nymphs.

The fluttering in her stomach calmed as she strolled round the water to the grill. As Linc lorded it over the flames with a pair of barbecue tongs, the mouth-watering scent of cooking meat surrounded him.

Looking up, he caught sight of her and smiled. ‘Hey, good-looking.’

The tightness in Jessie’s chest eased, the familiarity of family making her feel safe and secure. ‘That should be my line, shouldn’t it?’ She gave Linc a light kiss on the cheek. ‘As in what you got cookin’?’

‘About a half a cow,’ Linc joked. ‘I hope you’re hungry.’

Where once the teasing admiration in her brother-in-law’s eyes would have had Jessie blushing profusely, now she simply felt a warm, comfortable feeling settle in.

‘Stop flirting with my sister and watch what you’re doing,’ Ali called out from behind them. ‘I don’t want burnt cow again, thank you very much.’

Jessie turned to see her sister flopped in a large armchair. Emmy giggled, glancing up from the jigsaw she was piecing together by her mother’s feet.

‘Stop your belly-aching, woman,’ Linc replied, giving Jessie a conspiratorial wink.

Jessie grinned back at him, then sat down in the chair next to her sister. ‘Still feeling exhausted?’

Ali adjusted herself in her seat and huffed. ‘No, not really, I just have this devilish urge to make Linc’s life hell at the moment.’ The twinkle in her eyes was positively wicked. ‘After all, he’s the one responsible for this.’Ali laid her palms heavily on the impressive mound of her belly.

‘The way I heard it,’ Jessie leant in and whispered to her sister, ‘he wasn’t the only one there.’

Ali laughed and gave her a light slap on the arm. ‘Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side. And by the way, while we’re talking about sisterly solidarity,’ she continued, giving Jessie’s figure a quick appraisal, ‘it would help if you didn’t look like a supermodel while I look like a beached whale.’

‘Thanks, I think,’ Jessie replied.

‘Mummy, when’s Uncle Monroe going to be here?’ Emmy’s sleepy enquiry made Jessie’s pulse spike.

‘Soon, honey,’ Ali replied, her voice relaxed. ‘What time did you tell him, Jess?’

‘I don’t remember. But he can see the pool terrace from his bedroom window, he must know we’re out here.’

‘Good point,’ Ali remarked, eyeing her sister thoughtfully. ‘You know, it’s funny,’ Ali continued, her voice suspiciously light, ‘but I’ve noticed it’s only your invitations that he accepts.’

Jessie’s head swung round, the gaze that had strayed up to Monroe’s apartment window focused on her sister again. ‘What are you trying to say?’

‘Nothing. Just that he’s quite a hunk, isn’t he?’

‘I…I guess so,’ Jessie sputtered, seeing the sharp look on her sister’s face. She tensed. This was what she’d been afraid of. Did her sister think she was developing some sort of ridiculous crush on Monroe?

Ali touched Jessie’s arm, her voice softened. ‘I happen to know from experience, Jess, that the Latimer men are hard to resist.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘All I’m saying is, if you need to talk, I’m here.’Ali smiled, patting her rounded belly. ‘In fact, I’m anchored to the spot.’

Linc had started piling the steaks onto a large serving plate when Jessie spotted Monroe’s tall figure strolling towards them in the darkening twilight.

Emmy scrambled out of her lap. ‘Uncle Roe!’The little girl dashed across the lawn towards him, her drowsiness forgotten in a spurt of excitement.

Jessie watched as Monroe swung his niece up in his arms.

‘Emmy’s certainly fallen for him,’ Ali murmured next to her. Jessie didn’t dare turn round, worried her face had the same adoring look on it that Emmy’s did.

Monroe hefted Emmy easily into his arms, enjoying her sleepy commentary on the ‘hours and hours and hours’ she’d been waiting for him. She clung to his neck, her light breath on his cheek making him feel good and at the same time strangely uneasy.

He’d watched the little group on the pool terrace from his apartment window for nearly half an hour before coming over. He’d almost decided not to come at all.

He hadn’t been able to hear what they were saying, but they looked from where he’d been standing like a unit, a family. His brother’s family, he’d thought, and the sharp sense of envy had stunned him. He didn’t want this sort of life, this sort of commitment, so why did their comfortable companionship tug at some place deep inside him?

He’d accepted Jessie’s invitation earlier because he enjoyed watching her. He’d told himself it was a nice healthy dose of lust that had dragged him out tonight.

But now, with Emmy’s little fingers clinging onto his neck, the comforting warmth in Ali’s eyes as she greeted him, the friendly handshake Linc gave him as he walked up to the grill, he realised that it wasn’t only lust. The feeling of warmth, of need, scared him.

‘Just in time.’ Linc’s voice was easy, confident. Why did Monroe feel so out of his element?

‘Jess,’ Linc said, ‘grab Monroe a beer from the cooler—looks like he’s got his hands full.’

Monroe’s eyes settled on Jessie as she handed him an icy bottle. He shifted Emmy in his arms to take it. ‘Thanks, Red.’

She gave him a quick nod then looked away, but he’d seen the flash of awareness and what looked like worry in her face. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she took the steaks from Linc and placed them on the long glass table laid out on the patio.

Her hair seemed to be made of flame tonight, tumbling down her back in wild, lustrous waves. The simple little black number she had on should have been demure but it showcased the curves beneath in a way that was damn near indecent. Aware that Linc might be watching him, Monroe took a long pull of his beer and dragged his eyes away.

‘We might as well get settled,’ Linc said quietly.

Emmy laid her head on Monroe’s shoulder. The little girl went still and heavy in his arms as Linc and Ali and Jessie put the last of the food on the table. The feel of Emmy’s body relaxing against his made the ache in his heart sharpen.

Linc placed a hand on his daughter’s back. ‘Come on, Emmy. You can sit in my lap while we eat.’

‘I want to stay with Monroe,’ Emmy’s tired voice whispered against Monroe’s neck.

‘It’s okay, Linc. She’s no trouble,’ he found himself saying.

‘You sure? It’s not that easy slicing steak with a sleeping child in your arms.’

Monroe simply nodded. He didn’t know why he wanted to keep the child with him. He just knew he did.

Jessie watched as Monroe struggled to finish his food. Emmy was sound asleep in his lap. Linc and Ali had started clearing the table. The meal had gone quickly, Linc and Ali keeping the conversation light and undemanding. Monroe had been surprisingly subdued.

Something had changed about him. The cocksure, devil-may-care confidence that seemed so much a part of him was gone tonight. The same vulnerability she’d glimpsed in the diner was back tonight. Why did he seem wary and unsure of himself?

‘I feel stuffed.’ Ali sighed and leaned back in her chair.

Linc gave her belly a reassuring rub. ‘That’s because you are, honey.’

Ali swatted his hand. ‘Not funny, Latimer.’

Linc laughed and hauled her out of her chair. ‘Come on, I’ll take the plates in and you can put your feet up on the sofa.’ Putting an arm round his wife, Linc smiled at Jessie and Monroe. ‘You want me to take Emmy, Monroe?’

‘She’s out like a light. I can hold her a while longer.’

‘Thanks.’

Jessie stacked all the plates except Monroe’s and handed them to Linc.

As Linc and Ali walked off across the lawn, Jessie settled back into her seat and watched Monroe. The pungent aroma of the dying charcoal was overlaid with the rich scent of summer blooms and the crisp smell of the sea. She could hear the gentle hum of the surf on the beach, and the soft murmur of Emmy’s childish snores.

It occurred to Jessie that for some reason during the evening her nerves had simply dissolved. The night had settled around them, comforting yet also intimate, but she didn’t feel nervous about being left alone with Monroe. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine she’d had, she thought, as she took another sip. Or more likely it was the sight of him with the little girl curled in his arms. Tonight, for the first time, he didn’t scare her.

When his knife clattered onto the plate again, Jessie took pity on him. ‘Do you want me to cut it for you?’

He looked up, his brow creasing. ‘Yeah, thanks, I’m starving.’

Leaning over, Jessie began slicing the meat on his plate.

‘I feel like a first-grader.’His voice whispered close to her ear, making the soft skin of her nape tingle. But unlike before, when the giddy awareness had made her feel vulnerable and irritated, she enjoyed the warmth that seemed to spread up her neck.

‘I could take her in.’ She pushed his plate back to him. ‘She probably ought to go to bed now anyway.’

‘No need.’ He adjusted the little girl in his lap, forking up a mouthful of the newly-cut meat as Emmy’s head nestled against his broad shoulder. He chewed and swallowed. ‘It’s kind of nice to hold her when she’s not talking a mile a minute.’ He looked a little shocked at his own admission, making Jessie’s lips curve.

‘What’s so funny?’ The prickle of annoyance in his tone made Jessie’s smile widen.

‘You are. You’re cute.’

He frowned at that, putting down his fork. ‘Hey, that’s my line.’

‘Not any more, it’s not.’ Jessie nodded at Emmy. ‘She’s totally besotted with you, you know.’

‘She’s a good kid.’ He sounded confused, making Jessie wonder.

‘She’s also a very good judge of character.’

Monroe blinked at the statement. The soft words sounded almost like an endearment. He studied Jessie in the flickering light. He’d planned to come on to her tonight. An opportunity like this, with her as good as flirting with him, should have been just what he was looking for.

He wanted to kiss her in the worst way. But something was holding him back. And it wasn’t only the sleeping child in his lap.

He didn’t only want to feast on those sweet lips of hers, he realised with a jolt. He wanted to bask in the approval he saw in her eyes. He wanted her to care for him. That was the problem. He felt the stab of guilt at the thought. He’d intended to seduce her, not make her fall for him. That would never work.

‘She doesn’t know me.’ The words came out harsher than he’d intended. ‘And neither do you, Red.’

The abrupt statement might have put Jessie off, but as he said it she could see the panic in his eyes. He wasn’t angry. Not really. He was scared. But why?

‘Does it frighten you, Monroe, to have people care about you?’

She knew she’d struck a nerve when he stiffened. Annoyance swirled in his eyes. ‘What the hell does that—’ The angry words cut off when Emmy stirred.

He rocked her gently, until the child settled again. When he looked back at Jessie, she could see he’d been careful to settle himself as well.

The slow, easy smile that she knew so well spread across his face. But for the first time she realised it was nothing more than a diversionary tactic. A defence. The lazy grin his way of distancing himself.

‘Don’t get the wrong idea, Red.’ His tone was low and intimate, making the familiar shiver run up her spine. ‘I won’t mind a bit if you want to get up close and personal with me. In fact, I’m counting on it.’

He was teasing her again, but it didn’t make her bristle as it once had, because she could see the usual twinkle hadn’t reached his eyes. Enjoying her newfound power, Jessie raised a coquettish eyebrow and looked him straight in the eye.

‘That’s quite a challenge, Monroe. I’d be careful if I were you. I might take you up on it.’

She could see she’d surprised him when his eyes widened, but the surge of heat that followed made her breath catch. He was looking at her now as if he wanted to devour her. Suddenly the giddy fluttering in her belly, the heat in her cheeks from an hour before were back with a vengeance.

He might be cute, but she’d be a fool to think he wasn’t still dangerous.

‘Jess, you want to grab the rest of the plates while I put Emmy to bed?’ Linc’s voice came to Jessie through the blood pounding in her ears. She forced her eyes away from Monroe to see her brother-in-law walking round the pool towards them both. She let out an audible breath.

Saved, she thought, and in the nick of time.

Jessie sat at the vanity table in her room and slathered moisturiser on her face. As had become a habit over the last week, her gaze strayed out her bedroom window, across the dark expanse of the gardens to Monroe’s garage apartment. As always, his windows were a beacon of light in the night. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Nearly midnight again. Did the man never sleep?

She closed the curtains, shrugged into the simple satin shift she wore to sleep in and turned the switch by the door. The air conditioner subsided to a quiet hum. She walked across the room and sank into the huge double bed. As she pulled the thin sheet over herself she couldn’t stop thinking about the apartment across the way and the man inside it.

He still made her nervous. After all, no matter what she did, she just couldn’t forget that kiss. But despite that, tonight, and maybe even before that, her opinion of him had changed. She knew now there was a lot more to him than his staggering good looks and his industrial-strength sex appeal.

Over the past week and a half Jessie had let go of her suspicion that he had arrived on Linc’s doorstep to sponge off his rich brother.

Monroe had spent every morning since he’d been there either tuning up the cars or working on the garden. He’d fixed the lawnmower and, after ten days of his tender loving care, the grass was at last green again and the flowerbeds were starting to perk up, too. And all this, even though Linc had told him again at supper that he was a guest and should act like one. Monroe had simply shrugged and said that he liked helping out.

He disappeared every afternoon, and apart from tonight had refused all of Ali’s invitations to come to supper. Jessie wondered what he was doing right now. Maybe he was in bed, too. The thought sent a shaft of heat straight to her core.

Get a hold of yourself. She was acting like a woman with a serious problem. But Ali was right, he was a hunk, and right at the moment he seemed to be focused on her. She began to think about the other things she knew about him, and then shot upright in bed.

He wasn’t in bed, now. He was painting. Of course, that was what he had to be doing.

If she hadn’t been distracted by that kiss and her newfound feelings for him she would have remembered their conversation in the diner sooner.

Throwing off the covers, Jessie paced to the room’s en suite bathroom and ran herself a glass of water. What did he paint? Whether or not he had any talent, he was certainly dedicated. He was at it every afternoon and most of the night.

Draining the glass, Jessie rinsed it out and walked back across the deep pile carpet to the bedroom window. She peeked out of the curtains. She felt silly, like an over-eager schoolgirl, fantasising about her first major crush and spying on him in the middle of the night. But she couldn’t help it. This intriguing new turn of events only made him all the more irresistible.

His lights were still on.

She was dying to see what he was doing. After all, art was her passion, too.

When she’d left college, she’d kidded herself for a whole year that she was destined to take the art world by storm.

After a series of rejections, though, from a string of different galleries, she’d had to admit that, although she was passionate about art, her talent—like her portfolio—had been woefully inadequate.

It wasn’t that she was dreadful; she just wasn’t ever going to be great. Being able to see her own inadequacies had been her curse, she’d thought this spring, when she’d finally given up her job as a layout designer in a tiny print shop in Soho.

She’d been miserable doing the mundane, boring designs for pamphlets. Not only did it waste what little design talent she had, it was also a million miles from the beauty and elegance that she’d once hoped to embrace.

When Ali and Linc had asked her to come out to America for the summer and help out with Emmy while Ali awaited the birth of her second child, she’d jumped at the chance. It would be a chance to forget about her miserable failure with Toby as well as her pathetic attempt to start a career as a designer. Linc had also arranged a working visa, so she could ‘keep her options open,’ as he put it.

Being with Ali’s family had lifted her spirits and now that she had her new job at the little gallery in Cranford, she finally felt as if she weren’t spinning her wheels any more. She was starting afresh at last. Time to get a new master plan. Maybe this was where her talent lay—in the appreciation of art.

Jessie let the curtain fall back down. But how the heck was she going to make a life’s work out of it if she had an artist living in the same house as her—or as good as—and it had taken her over a week to figure it out? Okay, so she had been slightly distracted by other things where Monroe was concerned, but really. It was totally pathetic.

Whipping the sheet back and climbing into bed, Jessie was struck by the sight of Monroe that evening when he had said goodbye to her. That cocky grin back in place.

Well, okay, so Monroe had a pretty devastating effect on her, but she ought to be able to ask the guy to let her have a look at his work. Fluffing up her pillow, she plopped her head down on it. She would march over to his apartment tomorrow when she got back from work and demand to see what he was painting. How hard could it be?

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘MONROE, we need to talk.’ Linc’s face was set, his voice firm.

‘Yeah, what about?’ Monroe raised an eyebrow. He didn’t like it. They were standing in the kitchen of the main house. It was Saturday morning and, after the unsettling feelings stirred at last night’s barbecue, the last thing he needed now was a brother-to-brother chat.

‘Here.’ Reaching into the fridge, Linc took out two frosty Pepsis and handed one across the breakfast bar. ‘Take this and sit down.’

Monroe hooked a leg over the stool and opened his soda. He took a long drag, he’d been repairing the deer fencing most of the morning and his mouth felt as if he’d been chewing sand.

‘What’s the problem?’ Monroe was glad to hear the easy confidence back in his voice.

Jessie had spooked him pretty bad the night before with that crack about him being scared of people caring. He’d spent the night painting—and thinking hard about what she’d said. It had taken a while for him to sort it out—too damn long, in fact—but everything was cool now.

Why should Jessie’s comment bother him? She didn’t know him. Nobody did. By the early hours of the morning, he’d managed to dismiss what she’d said and think about what had happened after.

Jessie had made it pretty clear she might be interested in a little fun. Given that, and the fact that she turned him inside out with lust, it was going to be impossible for him to ignore her for much longer. But fun was all it would be. Simple and uncomplicated. He could give her a good time. He just had to make sure she understood fun was all it would be.

‘I want you to stop mowing the lawn.’ The sharp tone of Linc’s voice brought Monroe back to the matter at hand. Linc took a sip of his Pepsi, the movement jerky and tense. ‘And tuning the damn cars, and working so hard around the place, for heaven’s sake.’

‘The BMW needed a tune.’ Monroe kept his tone casual. ‘I can’t believe you’d treat such a beautiful machine with such little respect.’

Linc slammed his can down, knocking over one of the framed snapshots perched at the end of the breakfast bar. ‘The damn car’s never run better in years. That’s not the point and you know it. You’re a guest here. I don’t want you working to pay your way.’

Monroe took another sip, watched his brother over the rim. ‘I’m not a freeloader, Linc. I told you that from the get-go. Either you accept the work or I’m out of here.’

‘Hell.’ Linc drank down the last of the small can, crushed it in one hand and flung it in the trash.

Hearing the resignation in his brother’s voice, Monroe relaxed as he put his own soda down. As far as he was concerned, the matter was settled. He reached for the photo that had fallen over. Flipping it upright, he studied the picture inside.

It was a wedding shot, but not the stiff formal type. Ali looked sexy and happy in a full-length white dress while Linc stood behind her. He was wearing a black tux, but the tie was gone, the top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone and his arms were wrapped around his bride’s midriff. The smile on his face was relaxed and proud. The rest of the wedding party was arranged around them, all grinning or laughing at the camera.

‘Nice shot,’ Monroe said as he stared at the snapshot, ashamed at the familiar tug of envy.

Linc leaned across to take a look. ‘Ali’s dad took it. It was a great day.’

Monroe could hear the bone-deep contentment in his brother’s voice and struggled not to feel jealous. He absolutely refused to go there again.