Page 90 of Just for Tonight

Jake looks up but before he can give me away, I seize his shoulders, kiss him and turn him so he’s not directly facing my table anymore. “I need a PDA and I need it now,” I whisper. “Consider it an act of mercy.”

His lips curve in that slow smile, the one that lights his eyes and starts a simmer in a very personal part of me. “You need a public display of affection?”

“Absolutely. And soon.”

“You’ve come to the right place.”

“Don’t I know it.”

His hand lands on the back of my waist and he spreads out his fingers, a possessive and sexy touch that no one can miss. He slides his hand up my back a little and pulls me closer, as if he can’t resist, then his fingers curl tighter around my waist. He’s staring down at me as if he adores me, and even I’m tempted to believe.

“I’m not known for my merciful tendencies,” he murmurs as he bends to nuzzle the side of my neck. I close my eyes when he kisses me beneath my earlobe, right on the spot that drives me crazy. He’s playing it exactly right, as if we’re in a relationship, not too serious, not too casual – but hot. As if we meet like this all the time, whenever we can. I love it and I find myself wishing it was all real.

That makes me pull back to look at him, knowing my expression is skeptical. “I figured you’d be asking what was in it for you.”

“I’m good with the script so far.” Jake lifts his head and smiles down at me, as if we’re the only people in the world. I see now that he’s tired. He must have just driven down from the city. I reach up to smooth away a line in his brow.

“You know, for someone who’s never coming back to Empire, you turn up a lot.”

He laughs. “But we’re in Havelock. It doesn’t count.”

“If you say so.”

“Now, tell me.” There’s steel in his tone, which is completely at odds with his bemused expression, and my heart skips a beat.

I already feel safer.

I know I have an ally.

“Client dinner. He wants dessert.”

“Don’t we all.” Jake trails a fingertip across my cheek, pushing a tendril of hair behind my ear, his touch as light as a butterfly. That doesn’t account for the earthquake it starts inside me. He smiles, looking wicked and irresistible, and I see his gaze flick toward the table. It’s a quick glance but his brows rise and his eyes twinkle. “Your very own Mr. Knightley. How nice.”

I glare at him. “It’s not nice at all.”

“Got to be more than sixteen years difference, though.”

I try not to shudder. “Probably thirty.”

“How exactly do I come into this?”

“You’re the bear, Mr. Wickham,” I whisper. “I’m choosing the bear.”

“The bear? I’m the bear?” His teeth flash when I nod agreement. He leans close to whisper and I hope he doesn’t know I shiver. “Are you allowed to mix up your references like that?”

“I’m allowed to do what I need to do.”

“That makes me the devil you know, as well as the bear. As well as the unreliable Mr. Wickham. You are in a jam.”

“Either way.” I smile into his eyes. “Help. I don’t want to be trapped in his car with him.”

Jake sobers then, a glint of resolve settling into those baby blues. “He drove you here?”

“My mistake.”

“Big one,” he agrees. “You must have been distracted, thinking about Mr. Darcy.” He continues, all serious, before I can follow that thread. “All right then. Did you turn off your phone?”

“Of course.”