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Risky Business
Jane Sullivan
After a hot–and very rare–one-night stand, Rachel Westover knows her life's never going to be the same. For one, she tells everyone at work she's happily married to that sexy fling, Jack Kellerman, to get a promotion.She's never going to see him again, so it's not as if her little white lie is hurting anyone! Of course, she didn't count on her imaginary husband suddenly showing up at her office.…Jack had been wondering what happened to the gorgeous creature who slipped away from him six months ago. He's always wanted to see her again and find out why. When he finds out everyone thinks they're married, and he's asked to go on Rachel's annual company retreat, Jack can't say no. Spend four days in a secluded cabin with a gorgeous woman? Life doesn't get any better… or any more complicated!
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
Jack folded his arms over his chest. “Sheer accident. I’m in town on business, and who do I see getting into a cab? The woman who walked out on me six months ago without so much as a goodbye. And now, for some reason, everyone thinks I’m your…husband?”
Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, Jack. Will you just go?”
“Oh, no. If you’re going to pass me off as your husband, I’ve got a right to know why.”
“It was a harmless little…ruse. That’s all.”
He eyed her carefully. “Why me?”
She turned away. “The picture was handy.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“What other reason would there be?”
Jack gave her a cocky grin. “I’m unforgettable?”
Rachel shot him a look of disgust. Oh, he was so arrogant. And so conceited. And so right.
Dear Reader,
I’ve always loved those crazy stories where somebody tells a tiny fib, only to have that little falsehood escalate into a problem of major proportions!
In Risky Business, architect Rachel Westover is desperate to land her dream job, but the big boss refuses to consider unmarried job candidates. She decides that Jack Kellerman, a fun, sexy, captivating man with whom she once had a scorching one-night affair, can become her imaginary husband, since he lives a thousand miles away and will never know. She gets the job. Her plans works perfectly.
Then, out of the blue, Jack shows up at her office, quite amused that he appears to be married but can’t seem to remember his wedding.
When everybody takes Jack to be her real husband, Rachel is forced to spend four days with him on an employee/spouse retreat at a romantic ski resort. Soon her one little fib has spiraled completely out of control. How can she, a serious, career-driven woman, be falling for a wildly spontaneous man who never takes anything seriously?
I hope you enjoy Risky Business. Visit me on the Web at www.janesullivan.com, or write to me at jane@janesullivan.com. I’d love to hear from you!
Best wishes,
Jane Sullivan
Books by Jane Sullivan
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
854—ONE HOT TEXAN
HARLEQUIN DUETS
48—THE MATCHMAKER’S MISTAKE
33—STRAY HEARTS
Risky Business
Jane Sullivan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my sister Mary Ann, my most enthusiastic fan.
Thanks for loving my books, and for telling everyone else on the planet that they will, too.
Contents
Chapter 1 (#uddd58f54-3ffd-54f0-a679-fb621b6bcab8)
Chapter 2 (#u2513d66e-7ce2-599a-919c-48f29c6e509f)
Chapter 3 (#u0524c7b5-3843-56a0-94af-65ed06055e50)
Chapter 4 (#u6cd7228d-0e79-58d1-9144-7ff44e8e3112)
Chapter 5 (#u6b6ed03a-906a-56f2-9d7f-76d522c68d75)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
1
JACK KELLERMAN WAS A BORN optimist.
He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he hadn’t believed that the glass was half-full. That when a door closed, a window opened. That things always worked out for the best, that tomorrow was another day, and that life really was a bowl of cherries. And above all, that laughter was indeed the best medicine.
But even at his most positive, no way could he have predicted a day like today.
He’d caught an early morning flight from San Antonio to Denver. Nonstop. Arrived ten minutes early. Actual breakfast on the plane rather than a package of stale dry-roasted peanuts. Sat down next to a woman with a baby, and the child fell asleep when they took off and didn’t even wake when they landed. Gorgeous redhead from San Antonio in the seat to his left, literate, well-spoken and maybe even telling the truth when she said she was unmarried. She’d slipped her card into the pocket of his leather jacket as they got off the plane, giving him a smile that said, Anywhere, anytime, any way.
As he exited the terminal, he got a picture-postcard view of the snowcapped Rocky Mountains in the distance. He picked up a cab with a functioning heater. The driver, who actually spoke English, drove him into downtown Denver, where a light sprinkling of snow blanketed the sidewalks with a soft white powder.
And now, as Jack stood inside the lobby of the Fairfax Hotel, turning a slow circle and taking in every nuance of the late-nineteenth-century architecture and decor, he couldn’t help smiling. He’d wondered whether this trip would be worth it. He wasn’t wondering now.
Man, oh man, what a beautiful sight.
He checked his watch and saw that he was thirty minutes early for his appointment with the hotel manager. He stepped into the lounge, slid onto a stool at the bar and watched as a blonde sitting at the other end of the bar uncrossed her legs, then crossed them again, giving him an inviting smile.
Nice. Very nice.
The only thing that rivaled Jack’s passion for historic places was his passion for beautiful women. And right now, he was experiencing the best of both worlds.
He returned her smile, knowing it never hurt to plant seeds. If she was still here by the time the manager finished giving him a tour of the place, he might just have himself a lunch partner. Maybe more. If this day got any better he wasn’t going to be able to stand it.
But business first. Then pleasure.
The bartender came by, and Jack asked for a cup of coffee. Then he pulled out his cell phone, tapped number one on the speed dial, and after a few rings, Tom came on the line. His cousin and business partner, Tom was holding down the fort in San Antonio while he made the trip to Denver.
“You at the hotel already?” Tom asked.
“Just got here.”
“Well? Is it everything we thought it would be?”
“More. It’s a gold mine. Crystal chandeliers, oak and mahogany floors, brass fixtures all over the place, and enough stained glass to fill the Vatican.”
“Wow. Sounds good.”
“It’s better than good. I can’t believe some idiot wants to demolish it.”
“Yeah, but their loss is our gain.”
Jack had to admit that was true. Their business was historic renovation, not demolition, but if they couldn’t stop the destruction of buildings like this one, at least they could salvage the interiors for use somewhere else. Still, the lack of foresight of some people really grated on Jack’s nerves. A fifty-story office complex might be the highest and best use of this property if a person was looking at it from strictly a financial viewpoint, but once those explosives were planted and detonated, a piece of history would be lost forever. How could anyone put a price tag on that?
Jack glanced back at the blonde, who was toying with a cocktail straw and not even trying to hide the fact that her attention was focused squarely on him. He didn’t have to be back at the airport until seven o’clock tonight. A lot could happen in seven hours.
“How long do you think it would take to pull everything out of there?” Tom asked.
“Hard to say. I’ll know more after I go through it. Trouble is, they want the building on the ground before the end of February.”
Tom let out a breath of frustration. “That could be cutting it close.”
“We could bring two crews up here.”
“That’ll short us on the Wimberly Building.”
“But that one has a longer fuse. We can afford that.”
“This all assumes we win the bid.”
“I’m telling you, Tom, if the rest of the place is as good as what I’ve seen so far, I’ll make sure we win the bid.”
The blonde picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, then teased her lower lip against the rim in a provocative back-and-forth motion. He was getting exactly the right kind of vibes from her—vibes that told him she wanted nice conversation, great sex—and a no-strings-attached goodbye.
Maybe they’d skip lunch in the restaurant and go straight to room service.
“So when is your meeting with the manager?” Tom asked.
“Eleven-thirty. I’m a little early, so I thought I’d—”
Jack stopped short. Looking out the window to the street beside the hotel, he saw something that froze him to the spot where he sat.
No. It couldn’t be.
He sat motionless, his heart suddenly beating rapid-fire, as he watched a woman on the sidewalk. She held shopping bags in both hands, her purse tossed over her shoulder, looking as if she wanted to hail a cab. Even at this distance, he could see the smooth, ivory skin of her face in contrast to the crimson of her lips, both framed by black-as-night hair that swirled in the winter breeze.
Hadn’t he touched that face before? Kissed those lips? Run his fingers through that hair?
It was her. Rachel.
No. That was wishful thinking. The woman he’d known in San Antonio had been all long legs and luscious curves and warm, soft mouth, and every move she’d made had been a sensual feast for the eyes. This woman was wearing a conservative wool coat with a hem below her knees, black gloves and black low-heeled shoes, looking so sharp and conservative that if a Marine recruiter had happened by, he would have dragged her straight to boot camp. Would the woman he’d known in San Antonio have dressed like that?
He wasn’t sure. He’d have to think hard to remember what she looked like with clothes on.
They’d spent one night together—one hot, exciting, unforgettable night—only to have her leave before daybreak without so much as telling him her last name. Not a day had passed in the last six months that he hadn’t thought about her, and he’d held out hope that someday he would see her again. And now, as he looked at this woman, the most uncanny feeling of recognition took him by the throat and refused to let go, telling him that today just might be that day.
“Jack?” Tom said. “Are you there?”
Tom’s voice had become as comprehensible as a mosquito buzzing in his ear. The blonde gave him yet another provocative smile, but that didn’t register, either. Every molecule in his body was tuned toward the woman on the sidewalk outside, and all at once the promise he’d made to himself that morning six months ago came back to him like a prophecy just waiting to be fulfilled.
He’d told himself that if he ever saw her again, he’d never let her go.
“Sorry, Tom. Gotta run. I’ll call you back later.”
“Hey! Wait! You haven’t finished telling me—”
Jack hit a button on the phone and stuffed it back into his coat pocket. He reached for his wallet, grabbed the first bill he saw—a ten—and tossed it onto the bar. The blonde gave him a surprised look, but he was already off his bar stool and heading out of the lounge.
He ran into the lobby, glanced out the window again and panicked when he didn’t see her. He burst through the revolving door onto the sidewalk, the cold winter wind slapping him in the face, just in time to see her pulling a cab door closed behind her.
“Rachel!”
