Page 7 of Lead Me On
Fraud she might be, but she was damn good at maintaining the illusion. When a car door slammed in the parking lot, Jane snapped straight, banged on the keyboard to bring her computer out of sleep mode and jumped right into the report she’d been working on the day before.
The door opened and she expected to look up and see Mr. Jennings walking in. What she didn’t expect was the man who’d visited her dreams the night before.
But she was cool Jane now, the impenetrable fraud, so she merely raised an eyebrow. “Good morning, Mr. Chase.”
“Hello, Miss Jane,” he countered.
She almost laughed at his joke, and what a disaster that would have been. If he knew she found him charming, he might ask her out again. She didn’t allow her expression to budge. “What can I help you with?”
He held out the folder he’d tucked under his arm. “See? Safe and sound. I’m the soul of responsibility.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured, trying to hide the way he was wreaking havoc on her concentration. His sleeve had inched up, revealing more of the tribal tattoo on his left arm. “Thank you.”
“So…” he said.
She jerked her eyes up from his arm.
“Have you thought any more about it?”
“About what?”
“Going out to dinner with me?”
“No,” she answered as if it were the honest truth. Actually, it was. Dinner hadn’t entered into her thoughts even once.
“Come on.” He smiled at her, his wide mouth curving into a very handsome grin. His dark blue eyes sparkled. “Just dinner.”
“No, thank you.”
“Why not?”
“You’re not my type.” The bald-faced lie fell smoothly from her tongue.
“You sure?” He glanced toward his arm, and Jane felt her pulse leap.
Oh, my God. Had he looked at histattoowhen he said that? She felt her face heat despite her best efforts to suppress the betraying flow of blood. He’d seen her looking.
But those could have been looks of horror, she told herself. They’d meant nothing.Nothing.
Her pulse wouldn’t listen to her. It gathered speed. Chase smiled and put one hand on her desk to lean closer. His gaze fell to her mouth, and she could feel herself breathing too fast.
Last night as she’d boxed, she’d imagined her trainer was Chase. She’d imagined him grabbing her, his hands sliding across her damp skin, his mouth descending with a growl….
Oh, God, her masquerade was crumbling around her. What if she let Chase—
Her cell phone rang, breaking the man-spell she’d fallen under. Jane looked down to the phone, and the display was a bucket of cold water dumped over her head. “Mom” it read, the backlight glowing red in warning.
She stared at it for a moment, skin cooling as each second ticked by. “Yes,” she finally answered him, “I’m sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“I’m sure you’re not my type, Mr. Chase, but thank you very much for the invitation.”
Though his face fell, Chase didn’t look the least bit angry. In fact he pulled a business card from his back pocket and handed it over. “All right, then. Call me if you change your mind. That’s my cell.”
“Thank you.” She meant to drop it in the trash. She really did. But as Chase turned and walked out, Jane tucked his card into her purse. Then she turned off her cell phone and stuck that in her purse, too.
She was working, and the world of rough men and burned-out cars and bad mothers could go to hell.
