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Then his mouth was on hers, kissing her passionately, his tongue delving deeply into her mouth as his finger entered her body.
She moaned, and her thighs twitched apart.
He stretched his leg over hers, pressing her into the mattress. His hand set up a rhythm, and the world shifted to the apex of her thighs.
She tried to hang on, but he hit all the right spots. She dragged in a breath, inhaling his scent. She flicked out her tongue, tasting sweet brandy on his lips. She twisted the comforter convulsively between her fingers.
He had to stop.
This was crazy.
She was out of control.
She opened her mouth, but her words turned into a cry, and sensation shattered around her.
He held her tight, slowed his kisses, whispered something that she couldn’t begin to hear around the roaring in her ears. But it sounded nice. It sounded soothing. It sounded like she didn’t have to worry that she’d just let go under his caress.
And then the lights blurred and the soft bed turned into a cloud, as a warm peace settled into her very bones.
IN THE MORNING, Jack hauled himself out of bed at 6:00 a.m. He’d nearly given in to temptation last night, and he didn’t want to think about what he’d do if Kristy woke up sleepy and pliant in his arms. It could go one of two ways, neither of them good, and he owed it to her to at least try to keep his word from now on.
He left her sleeping and showered down the hall. Then he took coffee into the study. It was too early on the west coast even for Lisa, so he logged on to the Sierra Sanchez computer server and hunted around himself. It took nearly half an hour to find a number for Zenia Topaz.
Jack wanted to make contact with the one person who might be able to help him help Kristy. Zenia Topaz was a top fashion designer, and her contract with Sierra Sanchez gave Jack a little leverage. Plus, they’d grown to be friends over the years.
He’d already ordered what he could think of for Kristy last night from the Manchester area. But he didn’t know anything about international fashion design. He had no idea what was in and what was out, what kinds of things Kristy would need to have a running chance at the Breakout Designer Contest. Hopefully, Zenia could give him some advice.
And he wasn’t only doing this for Kristy, he assured himself. He had the best interests of Sierra Sanchez in mind, as well.
“Topaz Fashion,” came the cheerful answer.
“Zenia Topaz, please.”
“She’s expecting your call?”
“No. It’s Jack Osland.”
“One moment please, Mr. Osland. I’ll see if she’s available.” The line clicked.
Jack listened to elevator music, tapping his fingers against the desktop as the minutes ticked by. He realized as he waited that he didn’t spend very much of his life on hold. Other people must. Although he had to remember that Zenia hadn’t been expecting his call.
The line clicked again. “Mr. Osland?” came the same voice, sounding a bit breathless and flustered this time.
“Yes?”
“Ms. Topaz will be right with you. I’m sorry, sir.”
“No problem,” said Jack.
Another click.
“Jack,” Zenia’s voice singsonged.
“Good morning, Zenia. How are things in New York?”
“Things are fabulous. The city’s lit up. We’ve been out skating already. Are you in town?”
“I’m in Manchester. I was wondering if you could help me out.”
“Absolutely, Jack. Whatever I can do.”
“Sierra Sanchez is sponsoring a designer in the Breakout Designer Contest at Matte Fashion.”
“Umm-hmm.”
He swiveled his chair to face the window. “She’s working here over the holidays, and I’d like to pick up a few things for her.”
“What kind of things.”
“That’s the problem. I’m not sure.”
“Okay …” Zenia’s voice was searching.
“Fabric, notions, shoes, I don’t know. I was hoping you’d have some ideas.”
“Do you have her sketches?”
“Not really.”
“Jack—”
“It was a last-minute thing. I think she might be building on something she has, or she might be coming up with something brand-new. Gramps met her—”
“Ahhh.”
“Oh. No.” Jack automatically shook his head. “It’s not like that.” Well it was kind of like that. “Listen, my jet is at your disposal, as is my credit card. Can you make a few calls to your suppliers? Just send one of everything.”
Zenia gave a husky chuckle. “Who is this woman?”
Jack paused. “My wife.”
“No way.”
“It was a whirlwind courtship.”
Zenia clucked her tongue. “Like grandfather, like—”
“No! Like I said, it’s nothing like that.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s all right. Can you help me out? I want to surprise her.”
Kristy could buy anything else she wanted later, but Jack couldn’t help thinking they’d do better with an expert like Zenia making the choices.
Zenia was silent for a minute. “You know she’s only got two weeks.”
“The jet is warming up on the tarmac.”
Zenia took a breath. “Okay. Tell the pilot to file a flight plan to Paris then Milan. I’ll send one of my assistants along to purchase what she’ll need.”
“You’re a goddess,” said Jack.
“Yes, I am. And I want to meet this woman when I’m at the show in London.”
“Actually, I can suggest something even better….”
WAKING UP alone in Jack’s bedroom was a mixed blessing. It saved her the embarrassment of facing him after last night. But now she had to spend the day dreading the moment she’d have to face him.
Did he think she was selfish? A tease? Did he think it was his turn next? Did he have expectations for tonight?
She paced the length of the workshop, giving her head a quick shake, forcing Jack from her thoughts.
She stopped herself at the drafting table, plunked down on the stool, opened the sketch pad and stared down at Irene’s notes. The Sierra Sanchez team had liked the necklines. They’d liked some of the fabrics, too.
The team’s biggest complaint had been the lack of sparkle and imagination. Kristy thought she understood. Unfortunately, now she wasn’t so sure.
She closed her eyes, trying to think about sparkle, imagination, maybe passion.
Oops. There was Jack again.
She could see him in the hot air balloon this time, skimming over the desert against the bright-blue sky. The balloon was round, billowing out with primary colors, bright yellow, red and blue. The lines were soft, sand rippling off in the distance, rocks polished by the foaming water, curves on the river sweeping through the valley.
In the distance, the cliffs were jagged, painted with muted stripes of brown and rust and gold. A waterfall crashed over them, hurling spray high into the air, white water bubbled at the bottom of the falls. She heard Jack’s rumbling voice, his laughter, his teasing suggestion they skinny-dip. She was hit with a new sense of desire, even while the foaming water turned into billowing crinoline and the stripes from the surrounding cliffs took the shape of a bodice.
Her eyes flew open. “Wow.”
She grabbed her sketchbook and began bold pencil strokes across a blank page.
A wild and exotic dress grew before her eyes—a tight, sleeveless bodice, with stripes arching into a reverse, rounded neckline. She’d use some kind of metallic in the fabric, jazzing up the earth tones. She nipped in the waist, then filled out the skirt, widening the stripes as the fabric fell to midthigh. Then she penciled in the billowing crinoline, at least six inches showing below the skirt.
Dark stockings and spike heels would give the sensuality she was looking for. It was sassy and sexy and completely different from anything she’d conceived before.
She had a sudden vision of herself wearing it, curled up on the blanket in front of the waterfall, Jack’s hot gaze traveling the length of her body.
She drew a deep, shuddering breath.
Then she came back to earth, blinking at the surprising creation. It didn’t look like the kind of thing Irene would like. The woman’s tastes had tended toward sleek and sophisticated.
But this dress was definitely passionate. And, for better or worse, Kristy was feeling passionate.
Maybe it was frustration. Or maybe it was repressed desire. Or maybe it was simply the opulence and excess of the Osland mansion. But Kristy definitely wanted to let herself go, to find her sensual side and bring it out in jazzy, extravagant clothing.
Of course, she couldn’t.
She had a sponsor. And she had a job to do.
Enough fooling around. She flipped to Irene’s notes on her original sketches. She’d start with her classic cocktail dress and take it from there.
WHEN KRISTY entered the mansion many hours later, tired, hungry and pretty frustrated with her efforts, she heard voices coming from the great room. She realized the rest of Jack’s family had arrived, and she was in no shape to meet any of them yet.
She darted up the stairs, grabbed a shower, blow-dried her hair and got herself into a simple white-and-silver tunic dress that shimmered as she moved. High heels gave her confidence, and she matched a pair of dangling black earrings to a dramatic necklace that highlighted the V neckline.
She heard the bedroom door open and turned to see Jack approach the en-suite.
“Ready?” he asked through the doorway.
The second she heard his voice, the night before came flooding back in all its reckless, sensual glory. She instantly realized she wasn’t ready to face Jack or anybody else.
“Kristy?”
She swallowed. Should she acknowledge it? Pretend she’d forgotten? Hope he’d forgotten that she selfishly went to heaven and back in his arms?
“Kristy?” he repeated, taking a couple of steps into the room. Then he stopped behind her, gazing for a long second at her reflection in the vanity mirror.
“Please don’t be embarrassed,” he finally said.
What else could she possibly be?
“You were beautiful,” he said softly, bringing his hands down to rest on her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, covering her face with one hand.
A smile came into his voice. “Well, I’m sure not.”
She dared to meet his eyes.
“Never,” he assured her. “Not even for a second.”
There was something comforting about his tone and his touch. She found herself relaxing.
“Besides,” he said, giving her a squeeze, “I don’t know if you noticed, but we’ve got bigger problems downstairs.”
So much for relaxing. “I noticed,” she said on a sigh.
“Then buck up,” he advised. “Because your in-laws are waiting.”
She nodded, finishing her lip gloss and chasing down a surge of butterflies that collected in her stomach. She reminded herself they weren’t really her in-laws. She didn’t have to win them over for life. All she had to do was smile, nod and try not to spill anything.
