Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance) (14 page)

Which was why the cabin was perfect. With the
exception of helping out Butch now and then, Jack would live an isolated life
away from stares and judgments. He could travel, explore—heck, he might
even rediscover the artistic magic he’d buried years ago. There were so many
things he wanted to do. It was time to live again.

The Franken Niece sighed and tipped her head to one
side as if drifting off. If she were sleeping he’d eat his Stetson. Staring at
her pale skin and the curve of her jaw, he found himself swallowing his
frustration. He needed that bonus. The money would provide security while he
explored his freedom. Maybe he and the Franken Niece could meet halfway.

He cleared his throat and she opened one eye. Yeah,
right, she’d been asleep.

“How about a truce?” he said.

She opened both eyes.

“I’m interested.” With a lift of her chin, she
unfolded her arms and placed her hands in her lap. A little less defensive, a
good sign.

“About Tiger Lady…” he said.

“Her name is Tatianna.”

“Tatianna, right. My problem is, I usually work
alone.”

“Learning to adjust is a valuable skill.” She sounded like
Miss Connors, his fifth-grade teacher, who loved doling out daily lectures on
proper behavior.

“Let me finish,” he said.

She nodded for him to continue.

“If I’m going to work with her, pretend to be married
to her, we need to get to know each other.”

She pursed her lips, obviously not pleased with the
direction of this conversation. Why? Could she be jealous? He smiled to
himself.

“We’d work better as a team if she trusted me more,”
he said. “The only way that’s going to happen is if we spend time together,
alone.”

“Alone?”

“It’s the best way. I don’t exactly blend in when I go
out in public.”

“Oh, right.”

“Tiger Lady was really nervous on the catwalk. I’d
like to loosen her up a bit.”

“I’m sure you would.” She narrowed her colorful eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Then a thought struck
him. He rubbed his stubbled jaw with his fingertips. “Although, now that you
mention it, I am kinda lonely.”

“You’re a pig!”

“Why? Because I wouldn’t mind having a little fun with
an attractive woman?”

“You would find that kind of woman attractive.”

“Why, Frank, you sound jealous.”

“That’s so ridiculous. You can’t imagine how
ridiculous that is.” The tips of her ears turned bright red.

“Then you won’t mind asking Tiger Lady to swing by my
place tonight. I’ll even dress for the occasion. I’m sure I can dig up a
leather loincloth and whip just for her.”

Her eyes widened in shock. Then she fisted her hand.
She’d lose her shirt at poker, that’s for sure. He ground his teeth at the
image of this woman shirtless. Man, he needed a long night of slow and easy
sex.

“I told you, Tatianna’s visiting friends in
Milwaukee,” she said.

“All night?”

“How am I supposed to know? She’s just an employee.”

“I’m just an employee and you keep me on a pretty
tight leash.”

“Enough.” She put up her hands in a halting gesture.
“I’m not having this conversation.”

“So that means you’re not going to ask her to stop by?
I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh, really?
 
And how will you do that?”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut about Sully’s mob
connection.”

“It’s not a connection!”

“It will be when the tabloids get a hold of it.”

“You won’t do anything of the sort. I’ll rescind your
incentive bonus,” she said.

“I’ll take you to court.”

And was talking nonsense. He couldn’t afford a lengthy
court battle considering most of his funds were tied up in the youth centers
and construction costs for the cabin. But she didn’t know that.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll ask her. But I won’t make
any promises.”

“I hope for Sully’s sake that Tiger Lady is in the
mood to follow orders, Boss Lady.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“You can’t stand the thought of me and Tatianna doing
a tango between the sheets, can you, babe?”

“I don’t care what you do.”

“Good. Because I’ve got big plans for my ‘wife.’ She’s
a sweet kid. Could probably use a few lessons on how to please a man, know what
I mean?”

Clenching her jaw, she shoved her right hand beneath
her thigh. He’d lay odds that hand was balled tighter than a drum. He shifted
next to her knowing it would drive her crazy, messing up that perfect, orderly
mind of hers.

“I’m going to teach her how to drive a man crazy with
a single touch, like this.” He traced his index finger along her jawline and
she looked away. “Then I’ll show her how to get a man all hot and bothered with
a stroke of her tongue along his pulse point, right here.” He placed her hand
against his neck and held it there, enjoying the warmth of her fingertips.

She huffed in disgust and yanked her hand away. Was
that sexual frustration he read in her eyes?

“See, Boss Lady, by the time I’m through with my
little kitty cat she’ll know how to please a man better than a Vegas call
girl.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared, her
eyes sparking fire behind the conservative glasses. “You really think you’re
something special, don’t you?”

He grinned. She was cute when she was angry.

“Don’t get too cocky, Mr. Black Jack Hudson. I
wouldn’t be surprised if Tatianna teaches you a few things tonight.”

Chapter Eight
 

“I could use a few lessons on how to please a man? The
nerve of that overgrown ape.” Frankie stormed up the sidewalk to Jack’s condo
and fumbled in her purse. Where were those darned peppermints?

She still couldn’t believe she was doing this, but
anger drove her forward, anger and a desperate need to save her uncle’s kneecaps.
She couldn’t chance Jack blabbing to the press about her uncle’s mistake. Not
now, not when things were looking up. A few more shows like tonight and ticket
sales would skyrocket, merchandise would fly off the shelves, and WHAK would be
safely in the black. Maybe, with a little luck, she could prevent Pugsy and the
snakes from making a repeat appearance.

“Mama, I should have listened to you.” She paused at
the condo steps and popped a stomach-settling mint.

Her mother had warned Frankie to be wary of her uncle
because he attracted trouble like honey drew ants.
If you get too close he’ll draw you right into the eye of the storm
,
Mama would say. And if anyone was an expert on storms it was Emma McGee. She
was an expert, having lived with and without Dad for some thirty years.

Men. They dragged you through the mud, let you down,
or simply didn’t respect you. Jack Hudson was no exception. She’d heard the
rumors about his fleeting marriage and infamous sexual trysts. Women fawned at
his feet, mesmerized by his sexual charisma. And he no doubt treated them like
toys.

“We’ll see who’s gonna play with whom tonight,
Buster,” she said, glancing at the dark windows of his condominium on the
second floor. Good. She’d purposely planned her visit for well after midnight hoping
he’d be asleep and off guard. Tonight she wanted to take charge and when she
did, whoa baby, he’d never know what hit him. Wouldn’t he be humbled when he
woke up handcuffed to the bed, dressed in a woman’s negligee?

Balancing much better on her spiked heels she climbed
the steps and smiled to herself. Yep, this was going to be one interesting
night and an even more interesting morning. She smiled at the thought of being
the first person to find him hand-cuffed to his bed. How humiliating for Black Jack
to be found and rescued by his enemy, the Franken Niece. She planned to get a
lot of mileage out of that one. A lot of mileage.

“He deserves it,” she muttered, still fuming about his
threat to go public with her uncle’s connection to the mob. Then again, if she
hadn’t slipped in the first place she wouldn’t be here right now. What on earth
had made her spill the beans to the man, anyway?

Primal lust, that’s what. The thought of him
undressing had sent her into a blind panic. Her world was one of self- control.
A nearly naked Black Jack Hudson would blow that straight to hell.

And now she was willingly walking into the eye of that
storm all over again.

This time it would be different. This time she was
Tatianna the Tigress not Frankie the conservative businesswoman. This version
of Tatianna wasn’t terrified because she hung from a catwalk. She wasn’t shy
about strutting out onstage. This was the new and improved Tatianna, wild,
ferocious and ready for action. She’d show big, bad Black Jack a thing or two. She’d
seduce him, wrap him around her finger and leave him begging for more.

She stabbed the buzzer with her thumb. A few seconds
passed and she tried again.

“Yeah,” a raspy voice crackled through the intercom.

Good, he’d been asleep.

“Jack, it’s Tatianna.”

“Who?”

“Tatianna from WHAK.”

Silence.

“Tiger Lady? Cat Woman? Your wife?” she prompted.

“It’s…what time is it?”

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

“Uh, yeah, okay.”

The door buzzed and she pushed her way through,
climbing the stairs to the second floor. He was waiting for her at the landing.
His hair hung in wild waves and his chest looked even broader than before.
Could a man grow muscle mass in six hours? A loose-fitting pair of sweat pants
clung to his hips. Barely. Why did she have a feeling he wore nothing
underneath? A ball of panic formed in her belly.

I
’m sexy. I’m
wild. I'm Tatianna the Temptress...Temptress...Temptress
.

“You’re wearing your mask.” He covered his yawn with a
closed fist.

“I told you I only take it off for one thing.” She
winked and splayed her hands across his bare chest. “I was hoping to take it
off tonight.” She licked her lips slowly, seductively.

He blinked, twice.
 
When he didn’t make a move to invite her in she pushed past
him and sauntered into the condo. The cathedral ceiling gave it an air of
spaciousness. A thick-cushioned couch sat at one end of the room opposite an
oak entertainment center bordered by bookshelves brimming with novels of all
shapes and sizes. She wanted to get a closer look, curious as to what a man
like Black Jack Hudson chose for bedtime reading. As her eyes scanned the room,
a painting of snow-capped mountains took her breath away. Rich in greens,
blues, grays, and white, it mesmerized her in a way no other piece of artwork
had.

“I thought you were coming earlier,” he said.

“I just got back.” She tore her gaze from the painting
and turned to him. He stood a good ten feet away near the door as if ready to
make a run for it.

“Frankie said you wanted me to stop by anytime. So I’m
here.” She slipped the raincoat off her shoulders and let it pool at her feet
on the wooden floor. He swallowed hard and stumbled backward, hitting the door
with a thump.

Nothing like black lace bikini underwear to make an
impression.

“So, husband, where do we start?”

“About the marriage thing—”

“Makes me feel a whole lot better considering what I’m
about to do to you tonight.” With great fanfare, she pulled handcuffs out of
her purse and dangled them on her index finger. “Where’s the bedroom?”

“Uh, it’s kind of a mess. Maybe we should talk out
here.” He didn’t move.

“Talk? Funny, I didn’t picture you as the talking
type.”

“And I didn’t picture you as the man-eating type.”

“Well, then we’re both pleasantly surprised.” She
sauntered toward him and grazed her hands across his hard chest. His skin was
warm and soft, yet firm to the touch.

Focus. Don’t get
sidetracked
.

“You’re not wearing your gloves,” he croaked, closing
his eyes.

She was thrilled by his reaction, the obvious pleasure
she evoked with a single touch.

“I’ve got all kinds of surprises planned for tonight.”
Leaning forward, she laved his nipple and blew ever so gently.

“Uh... I think…” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t think.” She nuzzled his chest, took a nipple
between her teeth and tugged.

“Hey!” Jerking back, he knocked into a wooden
coatrack. He grabbed it and swung it in front of him like a weapon. “Maybe this
wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Don’t tell me a little thing like me scares a big,
tough wrestler like you.”

With a seductive purr and a slow and steady gait, she
stalked her prey. He backed up into the coffee table, sidestepped it, and
retreated behind the leather couch, coatrack clutched in his hand.

“You’re scared,” she said.

“I am not.”

“I don’t believe it. A man who body slams
three-hundred-pound men and gets the stuffing kicked out of him three hundred
nights a year is scared of a little kitty cat like me.” She licked her lips and
crawled across the couch on her hands and knees. “Meow.”

“I’m not awake yet. And I didn’t expect—”

“What? You didn’t expect a frisky feline to show up on
your doorstep?”

“I’d feel better if you took off that silly mask.”

“And I’d feel better if you spread out on that bed of
yours facedown. I’m going to teach you how to purr, real slow.” She arched her
back, flashing generous cleavage.

He cleared his throat and gripped the coatrack with
such force his knuckles turned white.

“Go on. Go get ready for me, Tiger,” she said. “I’ll
be right behind you. Right after I freshen up. Could you point me to the
bathroom?”

“Down the hall to the left, but—”

“Go on, unless you’re really not as tough as you
pretend to be. Frankie said you were probably a lot of talk and no action.”

His clenched his jaw at the mention of her name.

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