The Billionaire's Holiday Obsession Page 8
She gave a courtesy knock at the door, then slipped inside with a set of keys Iain had given her. There was a beautiful woman with glossy dark hair and sharp eyes seated on the couch, her black dress revealing a pair of shapely legs that ended in fashionable high heels. There was something familiar about her—then it hit her; she looked like a slightly older version of Vanessa.
The woman was arresting, and she gazed at Jane with a mild curiosity and wariness. After staring for a moment, Jane shook herself and went over. “Hi. I’m Jane.”
The other woman didn’t take her hand. “Ceinlys.”
The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Jane couldn’t place it. The other woman’s gaze swept over her, and suddenly she felt like a cheap item on eBay. She’d never met anybody who could cut her down like that with just a look.
Ceinlys wrinkled her nose. “Good lord. It smells like you’ve been juggling onions.”
“Practically.” Jane remained standing. She couldn’t bring herself to sit next to the gorgeous woman until she’d showered and changed first. Who was she? Ceinlys couldn’t be more than forty or so. Given how beautiful she was, Jane could see Iain dating her, in which case, this was awkward. “I work in a restaurant kitchen.” And she didn’t understand the strange tightness in her chest that appeared all of sudden. Maybe she was just more tired than she’d expected from working because there was no way she was feeling jealous. She had no claim on Iain.
“Which one?”
“Éternité. I had a five-hour shift today.”
“Good god.”
Iain came out from the bathroom. “Hey. You’re back earlier than I expected.”
“Hi,” she said, suddenly glad to see him.
“Mom, that’s Jane.” Iain gestured. “In case you haven’t introduced yourselves yet.”
Jane blinked and looked more closely at Ceinlys. The woman had hardly any wrinkles, and she didn’t seem old enough to have five fully grown children.
“What is it?” Ceinlys said.
“You look so…young.”
Something in Ceinlys’s expression shifted. “Don’t try to flatter me.”
Iain put a hand on her slender shoulder. “Mom. Come on.”
She sighed. “All right, all right.” She turned to Jane. “Where are you from?”
“A small town in West Virginia.” She wasn’t going to go through the whole “Paris” thing again.
That put a line of disapproval between the older woman’s eyebrows. “I see. And how long do you plan to live with my son?”
“Not that long. I’m working at Éternité, and I plan to move out as quickly as I can once I have enough money.”
“You don’t have any assets?”
Assets? “Uh, no ma’am. I don’t think so.”
“I see. What about—”
“Mom,” Iain said firmly. “This isn’t the Spanish Inquisition.”
Jane shook her head. “I don’t mind. She’s just worried about you, and that’s really sweet. If my mom was alive, she would’ve done the same.”
Ceinlys’s eyes widened, then finally her mouth twisted into a strangely wistful smile. “Indeed.”
“Jane, why don’t you go shower? I’m sure you’re tired from your shift,” Iain said, his eyes desperate.
“Great idea. I’ll just go do that,” Jane said and walked away before Ceinlys could ask any more questions. Still, she couldn’t help but smile at how cute they were. And she wished her mom were alive. She would’ve helped her realize her dream, instead of laughing at her like her brothers had done.
* * *
When the door to Jane’s suite closed, Iain slowly let out a breath. “What was that about?”
“I was curious about her,” his mother said. “I couldn’t believe it when Vanessa told me you were living with her. All the very eligible bachelorettes you’ve dated, and you never lived with any of them.”
“I know, but…” He sighed. “She’s complicated.”
“I suppose it is.” She lifted her eyes to look into his. “Relationships are rarely simple.”
He reached out and squeezed her hand. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap between them, and it was all his fault. He cleared his throat. “About Jane—”
“Oh, don’t worry. She seems like a nice girl.”
“Uh huh.” He waited for the but.
“And no, I’m not going to interfere. A certain son of mine told me I should stay out of my children’s love lives.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. But it’s not…Jane and I don’t have a…love life.”
“If you say so.” She put a hand on his cheek. “Iain.” A sigh so soft he almost didn’t hear it. “You know I just want the best for you. I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.” He forced a laugh. “I’m rich, young, good looking, fit, healthy… What’s not to be happy about?”
She gave him a penetrating look, then nodded and patted his chest, right where his heart was. “You’re right. You would seem to have everything. By the way, I saw Justin Sterling in town. Are you two going to get together?”
“No. He’s here on business, and he’s on a tight schedule.” Iain and Justin were good friends. Justin was working like a dog these days because his great-uncle had decided to semi-retire, which meant Justin had taken over all the executive tasks at Sterling & Wilson, a large and complex company.
“I see.” She rose. “Well, I should be on my way.”
“So soon?”
“I just wanted to see what sort of girl Jane was, but there’s still a bit of last-minute shopping to do. You’ll be home for Thanksgiving?”
“Of course. But Mom, it’s after ten. Aren’t the shops going to be closed?”
“Oh, I made a few calls. They’ll wait.” She looked around his condo. “I hope you manage to do something with your place this Christmas. It’s always so sterile.”
“Why bother? I’m just going to spend it at the main house.”
She nodded. “Very well then. Whatever you feel is best.” She stood there for a moment, and Iain had the urge to hug her…but he couldn’t seem to make his feet move.
After she left, Iain sat and stared at nothing. He loved his mother, but at the same time he felt awful for the things he’d done to torment her. He’d quit, but he hadn’t been able to apologize. And now he no longer knew how to start.
He rubbed the spot his mother had patted earlier. It hurt so bad there. It had never quite stopped hurting, and he needed… Jesus, he needed some perspective, calm and meditation. And an uncluttered living space that would help clear his mind, he added, as his gaze landed on Jane’s bedroom doors.
He pulled out his phone and texted Brooke. Hilary had said the woman was good, so she probably was. He needed to redo his place pronto.
* * *
Ceinlys took a deep breath as her driver maneuvered the Mercedes into the still busy traffic of night-time L.A. Her heart hurt. With Mark, she’d been more sure of herself and assertive. He was always so sweet and open, the most perfect son any mother could wish for. But Iain was different.
“Rodeo Drive,” Ceinlys instructed the driver and raised the partition. Pressing her fingers against her eyes, she leaned back in the seat. Her neck was so stiff and tight, and it was giving her a headache. She should be glad Iain had given up cage fighting thirteen years ago. Whatever issues they’d had—problems she’d never quite understood—weren’t between her and Iain anymore. She should be happy about that.
But at the same time she couldn’t help but feel she would never be close to Iain because he’d never open up to her. Her lips trembled at the idea, and she clenched her jaw, willing the weakness to pass.
Ceinlys Pryce didn’t cry. She’d stopped crying a long time ago.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Iain got up even earlier for his morning exercises. He liked the calm and silence. They allowed him to center himself before anybody could notice something was off inside him.
It was becoming more and
more difficult, though. His equilibrium had vanished. He had a hard time sleeping. He told himself it was his mother’s impromptu visit that had thrown him off, but he knew better. It was the woman in his guest suite.
He kept thinking about how Jane had looked, watching him doing his routines. All that heat and carnality in her eyes had messed with his mind. He’d better be careful before he did something stupid like adding sex into the already complicated situation with her.
Nothing cluttered a relationship like sex.
He drew several deep breaths, exhaling slowly. Then he started moving, beginning with a simple foot-pattern kata. As he gradually emptied his mind, his motions grew more fluid and precise. His body moved before his brain could command it to, each position as natural and light as clouds on a summer day.
The air conditioning blew out cool air, but his muscles grew warm, slick with sweat. He no longer practiced MMA or karate, having given them both up for aikido.
Nothing was about punching harder and faster. Everything was deflection—circles, sweeps, stepping off-line. Not allowing anyone close enough to touch him. And if they got too close, he simply…avoided them. The more momentum they had, the simpler it was for him to shunt them away.
Then there it was again—the prickling of his skin and the tightness in his body. In his peripheral vision was Jane in an old T-shirt and shorts. And just like that his calm shattered. He breathed in deeply, trying to get back into flow. It’s not her fault that she’s here. She had no idea she bothered him.
But his blood continued to roar in his head. He tightened the reins on himself, needing to regain control. Don’t forget what happened the last time you lost it.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Jane said, her voice husky. Her gaze traced his naked torso, and he felt his body harden.
“Like what you see?” His voice was rougher than he intended. But the question should make her blush and turn away. She was from a small town, and probably didn’t have the level of flirtatious sophistication his exes had.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She raised her eyes to meet his. They were twin pools of dark.
“Do you even know what you’re playing with?” he asked. “I’m not like the boys back home. And your brothers aren’t here to defend your honor.”
She snorted. “Always defended my own honor. I’m not some kid people have to coddle.”
No, she definitely wasn’t. The thin shirt revealed the lithe line of her body. She was thin, her breasts small and hips on the narrow side. He liked his women a bit fuller, but there was nothing he’d change about the way Jane looked.
Her gaze dropped to his crotch. His erection made a tent, but he didn’t shift to disguise it. He wanted to shock the hell out of her. He wanted her to run the other way screaming. Maybe even get a place of her own now—provided it was in a decent neighborhood.
That’s right, I’m a horn-dog. Scream, Jane. Run away. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?
She did none of those things. Instead her mouth parted, and she dragged her upper teeth over the soft flesh of her lower lip.
It was all he could do to not leap the distance between them and rip her clothes off. Jesus. He clenched his hands to keep them by his sides.
Her throat worked. “So. You want some breakfast or what?”
He took one big step toward her. Only a foot or two separated them. He could see the pulse beating fast and erratic on her neck.
She closed her eyes. Then before he could back away, she closed the distance between them and pressed her mouth against his.
It was a stupidly chaste kiss, almost Victorian. She didn’t even part her lips. He should totally feel relaxed and amused about the whole thing. Iain didn’t like women who played coy.
But his entire body exploded with sensation. The sweet scent of her, the smooth skin of her body and the softness of her mouth all wound around him. He tried his best to shake them off, but they only tightened their grip on him.
His balls ached like he was buried inside her, and he kept his fists by his sides. If he moved… Oh god if he moved, he might just strip her and fuck her on the floor. And that would be a mistake. If she could make him feel this much with a G-rated kiss, what would happen when they were naked, skin-to-skin?
He shuddered.
Suddenly she pulled back and blinked. “Sorry, I…uh…lost my balance. And you’ll have to wait a bit for breakfast. I need to shower first.”
Unable to speak, he nodded.
“I’ll…I’ll be back soon.” Then she turned around and walked to her suite.
The door shut with a click.
* * *
Leaning against the door, Jane pressed her hands against her hot cheeks. What had possessed her to do that? He’d been trying to help her, and here she was, trying to play seductress with him.
Besides she didn’t even do it right. She cringed. She’d pressed her mouth against his, hoping he’d take the lead from there. But he hadn’t. He’d held himself perfectly still. The only thing betraying his arousal had been his erection prodding at her belly.
God what an idiot she’d been. It probably had nothing to do with her. Men got morning erections, and Iain was certainly healthy. So what if he looked like he might be receptive? She was projecting her own fantasy onto him because there was something about seeing him topless—and practicing an art that was designed to make other men submit—that made her breath catch.
It wasn’t just that he was good. The speed and precision of his movements told her he was great. But he also exuded a kind of loneliness that she couldn’t quite fathom. It was like he was in the eye of a storm.
She sighed. She could be impulsive and emotional, but the lame excuse about losing her balance? Ugh.
Gathering herself, she went to the bathroom. She needed to shower. There was no way she was going back out again with unwashed hair and become even more of a joke than she already was.
Thankfully the shower gave her a bit of a boost. And when she returned to the living room, she could hear that Iain was back in his room, taking his own shower.
As she cracked eggs and pre-heated the skillet, her mind thought through what had happened. Iain probably didn’t care that she’d kissed him. Stuff like that probably happened to him all the time, given how gorgeous he was, and he’d probably forgotten all about her attempt already. She should relax and not make a big deal about it. This wasn’t like her home town. People who were born and grew up in L.A. probably had a more…blasé attitude about things like this.
Besides, in her experience, a good hearty breakfast could fix almost anything. So long as she played cool, everything would be fine.
She turned on the TV to a morning news channel like her family used to do. Then she determinedly laid everything out perfectly on the table.
And like magic—haha!—Iain emerged from his suite. See? she told herself. Perfect. He took a seat without making eye contact. Which was okay with her.
“Looks good,” he said.
“Thanks.” She cleared her throat as she sat down. “So. Would you like some juice?”
“No, thank you.” Iain cut his sausage precisely. “Are you planning to go home for Thanksgiving?”
Jane frowned. “Oh… No. I don’t think so.”
“If you’re worried about the holiday travel, I can have my pilot fly you home.”
She almost choked on her egg. How could he be so casual about his plane? It was like he was lending her a cup of sugar or something. She took a quick swallow of water. “No, I mean I don’t plan to go at all.”
“Someplace else to go to for the holiday?”
“Not really. But it’s okay.” It’d be the first time she would miss Thanksgiving with her family, but she honestly couldn’t go back like this. She’d left, saying she wouldn’t be back until she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do. Right now she hadn’t achieved anything.
Iain pursed his mouth. “You should come to my family’s then.”
&
nbsp; She blinked at the suggestion. She’d expected he’d be spending the holiday with his family, but she’d never imagined he’d want her to join him. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’m sure you guys all want to spend some quality time together. Catch up and so on.”
An odd look passed over his face. “I don’t think your presence will bother anybody. We don’t talk that much, at least not in the way you’re thinking. And I doubt all of my brothers are going to show anyway.”
“Are they very busy?”
Iain shrugged. “Depends on your definition.”
Finished with her eggs and sausages, she nibbled on dry toast. She could go, she supposed…then she remembered how Vanessa and Ceinlys had dressed. They looked so stylish and sleek, and Jane didn’t have anything she could wear that wouldn’t be embarrassing by comparison.
“And I’d feel better if you didn’t stay here by yourself,” Iain continued.
“It doesn’t really seem dangerous around here.”
“Not dangerous at all, but you’re my guest, and I don’t think it’s right to leave you here alone.”
“Oh I won’t mind,” Jane said quickly. “I’m used to it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “With five brothers living in the same small town? Please. Look, if you don’t go, I can’t go either.”
“What?”
“I mean it.”
“But your mother will be disappointed.” Jane did not want to be subjected to Ceinlys’s look of superior disapproval. She’d made Jane feel small earlier without any real reason—or any apparent effort. Jane could only imagine what she would do if Iain skipped the family Thanksgiving dinner because of her.
Iain shrugged again. “She’s used to it.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say about your mother. You’re lucky to have a mother at all. I didn’t. Anyway, okay, fine. I’ll go. I would hate to have you upset her.”
* * *
Iain smiled to himself. It wasn’t that difficult to manipulate Jane into doing what he wanted. Just mention disappointing his mother, and she was all over it.