Private Arrangements. Brenda Jackson

around on his Harley. It was as if he were two different men, yet both were sexy as sin.

       She would drool during the day and have salacious dreams of him at night. It had gotten harder and harder not to react to him when he was around. Hard to keep her nipples from pressing against her blouse and to keep her panties from getting wet each and every time he opened his mouth to release that deep, sexy baritone voice of his.

       He kept looking at her now and she knew he was waiting for her response, so she said, “All right, Jonas, I’m curious to hear your plan.”

       He smiled, winked and went back to studying his menu. Nikki drew in a deep breath as she turned her attention to her own. But she couldn’t ignore the play of emotions that spread through her. As usual, he was having that sort of effect on her and there was nothing she could do about it but sit there and suffer through it.

       She wished there was a way after hearing him out that she could just thank him for considering her for the project and then graciously turn him down. But whether she wanted to admit it or not, she wanted the job.

       She needed the job.

       But what she needed even more was the use of her common sense when it came to Jonas. And she wasn’t sure that was possible.

      Chapter 2

      Being around Nikki was doing a number on him, Jonas thought, taking another sip of his wine. Wasn’t it just a short while ago he’d given himself a pep talk, confident that he would be the one in control during this meeting? But that was before he’d had to sit across from her for the past half hour or so. More than once he had to bite down on his tongue to keep from telling her how good she looked or how sweet she smelled. And her hair, that riotous mass of curls that she tossed about, made her features even more attractive.

      Crap. When would this intense attraction for her end? And why was he feeling as if he was about to come out of his skin? And to make matters worse, he had a hard-on that was about to burst his zipper. Why was the thought of doing intimate things to Nikki so much in the forefront of his mind? Why hadn’t time away from her eradicated her from his thoughts? And why did he remember that kiss as if it were just yesterday?

       He shifted in his seat again, feeling edgy. Horny. Lusty. Those were physical states he usually never found himself in. Never had a reason to. As a rule, he got laid whenever he wanted, which was usually all the time. But at the moment, he felt sexually deprived. Overheated.

       Where was a Tootsie Pop when he needed one? Sucking on one of those usually took his mind off his problems. Eight years ago when he’d quit smoking, his brothers had given him a huge bag of the lollipops as a joke. They had told him to lick one every time he got the urge to smoke, and pretend he was licking a woman’s breast instead. It worked.

       Now if he wouldn’t feel so friggin’ hot…

       If there was any way he could remove his shirt and just sit there bare-chested, he would. His attraction to Nikki was overpowering his senses and he didn’t like it at all. No woman was supposed to have this sort of effect on him. But he knew no way to stop it. He took another drink and felt a bit queasy. Why was he drinking the stuff? He knew why, and the main reason was sitting across from him.

       He glanced at Nikki again. She wasn’t what he would consider drop-dead gorgeous, but her beauty seemed to emit some sort of hypnotic appeal. Her eyes were dark, her nose the perfect size and shape for her face, and her lips were sensually full…and tasty, he remembered. Combined, the features on her medium-brown face were arresting, striking and expressive. For him a total turn-on.

       He just didn’t know what there was about her that tempted him to clear the table and spread her out on it and take her for the entrée as well as for dessert. Then he would proceed to lick and lap a body he had yet to see or touch underneath those jeans and shirt she normally wore. But he had a feeling she was hiding a body that was ultra sexy. Her curves hinted as much. What color bra was she wearing? What color panties? Bikini cut, hip huggers or thong? He had a thing for sexy underwear on a woman.

       He shifted in his chair, thinking he needed a Tootsie Pop and bad.

       He put down his wineglass to cut into his steak. But each and every time he would glance up and stare at her lips, he would remember that kiss. And the memories were filling his head with more foolish thoughts…as well as questions he didn’t have any answers to.

       One question that stood out in the forefront was that if he’d been so attracted to her when they’d first met, why hadn’t he hit on her long before that kiss? It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d broken his strictly business rule by making a professional relationship personal. Hell, he was one who believed in taking advantage of any opportunity, business or personal. Then why hadn’t he placed her on his “to-do” list long before their kiss that day?

       He knew the answer without thinking hard about it. From the first, there had been something about his desire for Nikki Cartwright that wasn’t normal. He’d sensed it. Felt it. And it had scared him. He had never reacted so viscerally to a woman before. She had a seductive air about her that had come across as effortless as breathing, and he was sure it was something she wasn’t even aware she possessed.

       Thoughts of her had begun taking up too much of his time, and he couldn’t shake them off like he did with other women. It was as if they occupied the deep recesses of his mind and intended to stay forever. And Jonas Steele didn’t do forever with any woman.

       And there was also the fact that around her his active imagination was worse than ever. Some were so downright erotic they had startled even him. That much desire made him feel vulnerable, and it was a vulnerability he could and would not tolerate.

       Things had gotten worse after the kiss. He had started comparing every single kiss after that with hers, and so far none could compare. And then at night, he would wake up in a sweat, alone in his bed, after dreaming of making love to her in positions that were probably outlawed in the United States and their territories.

       At one time he’d thought the best thing to do was just to work her out of his system by sleeping with her. He figured that one good night of sex ought to do the trick. But then there was this inner fear that an all-nighter might not do anything but make him want some more. Then he would start begging.

       And the thought of a Steele begging was unheard of. Totally out of the question. A damn mortal sin. Definitely something that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Never.

       Then why was he freaking out about a kiss that happened eighteen months ago?

       He figured one of the main reasons was that he had tasted something in that kiss he’d never tasted before—the type of passion that could ultimately be his downfall, his final hold on the world that he wanted for himself. The only world he could live in. A world filled with women, women and more women. He refused to let his body’s reaction to one particular woman end what he considered the good life.

       He needed a Tootsie Pop.

       “So what’s your marketing strategy for this project, Jonas?”

       Her voice was low and seductive. He knew it wasn’t intentional. That’s the way it was. He glanced over at her. Was she wearing makeup? He couldn’t tell. She had what most women would call natural beauty. And this wasn’t the first time he’d noticed just how long her eyelashes were. Most women wore the fake ones to get that length, but he knew hers were the real deal.

       His fingers tightened around the glass, and he took another sip before saying, “Fulton wants me to capitalize on the fact there hasn’t been an airship of this kind since the Hindenburg…while at the same time minimizing the similarities.” He breathed in her scent again, liking it even more, and getting more and more aroused by it.

       Nikki nodded. She understood the reason Mr. Fulton would want that. It had been decades since the luxury airship exploded while attempting to dock. Of the ninety-seven passengers and crew on board, thirty-five people had lost their lives. If Fulton had built a similar airship, the last thing he would want people to remember was the fate