See Jane Fall (15 page)

A soft, strangled sound rose from Jane’s
throat, a flurry of feelings and sensations poured into a single,
low, erotic sound. Lars ran his hands down her arms to her waist,
flattening them on her rib cage, moving them slowly up to cup her
breasts.

“Wait,” Jane breathed, breaking off the
kiss. She leaned her forehead against his, lowering her hands to
gently push his away. “Wait.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled raggedly,
putting his arms around her and holding her in place. She rested
her palms against the flat, hard planes of his chest, panting,
trying to catch her breath, acutely aware, by virtue of her
position, that he was more than ready to keep going and she was in
the process of disappointing him.

“Sorry,” she murmured, closing her eyes. Her
body protested her heart’s decision. But, her heart held firm.
You can’t sleep with him, Jane. It will hurt too much later. You
have to slow down.

He leaned back and she opened her eyes. He
was clearly trying to calm down too. “ It’s okay. Don’t be
sorry.”

He rubbed his jaw with one hand while
holding her with the other and his chest muscles flexed. Jane’s
hands felt the contours of his muscles moving under the warm skin
and it made her clench her jaw to hold onto her self-control.
Oh. My. God.
She really couldn’t see very much in the dim
light of the motel room, but she could certainly feel the rock-hard
muscles moving under her palms.

He dropped his arm again. “Whoa!”

She looked up at him and his teeth were
white as he broke into a smile. He reached one hand up and pushed
her curls away from her face, cupping her cheek. “I work out a
little.”

“A
little
?”

He put his hands under her arms, lifting her
away from him. She stood up by the foot of the bed and he stood up
for a second only to turn and kneel on the bed and crawl to the
headboard. He fluffed up a couple of pillows and moved her phone to
the bedside table before settling in comfortably.

He had bared his feet at some point and all
he was wearing now were low-slung jeans and a grin. “Come lie down
with me?”

Jane stood at the foot of the bed, arms
crossed, suddenly aware that she was standing before him in a black
sheer bra and a jean skirt. She gave him a look.

“Come on. Come get comfy. We can just…talk.
I won’t touch you.” He winked at her. “Unless you ask me to.”

She took a deep breath and smiled at him.
“Is that right?”

“I swear.”

“On what?”

“On my good name, Jane Mays. That’ll have to
be enough.”

“Now who’s the minx?” she asked.

“You are. Come lie down with me.” His voice
was low and serious, and he didn’t ask this time.

She crawled between his legs up the bed from
the foot to the head, watching his eyes widen. She grinned at him
then maneuvered to the left, settling herself beside him
innocently. He put his arm around her and she curled into him, her
ear comfortably resting on the solid warmth of his chest. He ran
his fingers up and down her arm, and then he laced his fingers
through hers, taking a deep breath, trying to relax.

“How many times has that song played now?
Five? I must have had it set to repeat.”

Lars reached for her phone on the bedside
table and switched the play mode from repeat one to repeat all, and
another Beatles song, “Julia,” started playing.

Half of what I say is meaningless
.
But I say it just to reach you…

“Mmm. This is a good one too.”

“Yeah,” she murmured low. “I think this
whole playlist is ‘Mellow Beatles.’”

They listened in the dark quiet of her motel
room until the song ended and he broke the silence.

“Jane,” he whispered. “You have to know
this; I’m
really
into you.”

She leaned back, looking up at him. She
wished it didn’t hurt her so much to hear him say things like that.
She wished she could just believe him—smile and kiss him, feeling
exuberant, hopeful about meeting someone so amazing with whom she
had this searing chemistry, these growing feelings. She searched
his eyes then leaned back down, feeling her eyes water with
tears.

He put his fingers under her chin and tipped
it back, catching her shiny, troubled eyes in the darkness.

“What, Minx? What is it? Why can’t you trust
me?”

She leaned back down, resting her cheek
against his chest as his hand trailed lightly, comfortingly, up and
down her back.

“There are no exceptions, Lars.”

“Is this about your cousin again?”

“Listen,” she started then hesitated. He
wouldn’t understand unless she told him about Ben. But she hadn’t
really told anyone, ever, about Ben. Aside from it being a painful
story, it was hugely humiliating. He lived in her mind alone now,
where he owned a huge share of real estate devoted to her crushed
hopes and lonely reality.

Jane took a deep breath. She wanted Lars to
understand why she didn’t trust him. She wanted Lars to know that
she would try to understand when he walked away from her tomorrow.
It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I didn’t want to work for my cousin, but my
uncle asked me to give her a hand and I couldn’t say no. He’d been
so good to me, like a second father. Right about the time I
graduated from college her new career was starting to flounder. She
was getting a bad reputation for tantrums and demands. Anyway, he
asked me to step in and help her out. Essentially, I would be her
front man, and she wouldn’t have to deal with booking agents and
photographers anymore. I’d book her jobs and handle her business
and she would just show up for work. It’s not what I wanted to do,
but he took me in when I was little…he was—
is
important to
me. Looking at his face is like still having my father alive in
some ways. I mean, I just couldn’t say no to him. I could never say
no to him.

“Anyway, I didn’t expect to work for her for
more than a year or so, until she was back on track and could hire
someone else. I knew my role. My cousin was the beautiful
supermodel, and I was her plain assistant. No, wait—please, just
let me finish. It didn’t matter that those were our roles, because
I had no time for anything else anyway. There was so much work and
I was so young and so new to the business. I just worked, kept my
nose to the grindstone, keeping her calendar, making bookings,
arranging her travel. The only friends I had were the other people
on Sara’s team. I didn’t…date.

“But, a year turned into two, then three,
and I got comfortable. I knew what I was doing, and I could do
everything faster and cleaner. I was more confident. It was less
all-consuming, and I had more space…you know, in my life. Not to
mention, right around that time Samara met Laney, her personal
assistant, and that freed up some of my time too.

“We did a shoot in Cairo last summer and I
went early just like…just like here. Ben Abaz was my contact there,
just like you are here. And we—well, I guess we fell into each
other, we just—well, just like….”

“You and me,” he said softly.

Jane looked down so she didn’t have to look
in his face, but she was comforted by his hand on her back, lightly
rubbing, making her feel connected to him as he listened.

“I had all of these wild hopes. It felt like
falling in love, only it wasn’t love. I know that now. In fact,
when Samara got there, it was like I didn’t exist. I mean it. It
was like…well, the way he said it was, ‘The sun has come out from
behind the clouds. I am blinded to anything but the sun.’”

She swallowed, closing her eyes against the
rush of hurt and embarrassment as she related the story. It would
never get easier to remember how he had walked away from her so
quickly, so finally, without looking back.

“Since then, I’ve never allowed myself to
get involved with anyone again on a shoot. I swore I wouldn’t.
Never again. London, Oslo, Moscow, Rio…never. There were
opportunities, I guess, but I wasn’t even tempted.”

Jane raised her face then and locked her
eyes with his. “Until I came to Montana. And met you.”

He pulled her into his arms, his face
inscrutable in the soft light.

“And tomorrow you’ll meet
her
,” she
finished softly. “Ben was right. You’ll see. She
is
the sun,
and I’m just—”

“Jane. You’re just Jane. And I’m just
Lars.”

“I know—”

He cut her off. “Not Ben
. Lars
. I’m
sorry he hurt you, but I’m not that guy, Jane.”

She tilted her head to the side and took a
deep breath against the assault of her feelings, against the
dangerous, painful hope that exploded in her heart, unraveling like
a ribbon of heat to touch the tips of her fingers, the tips of her
toes, the shells of her ears, the place deep inside that clenched
with longing, begging for his intrusion, until she was liquid,
electric, until she almost couldn’t bear the sweetness. He didn’t
know what she knew with such absolute certainty, but she adored him
for trying to reassure her.

She swung her leg over his chest and sat up
on his abdomen, straddling him and leaning down to press her lips
against his. He jerked into a full sitting position, hands cupping
her backside, edging her further down his thighs until her skirt
hiked up and she was flush on his lap, his hardness pressed up
against the thick cotton of her panties through his jeans.

Her feet were flat on the bed, bent knees
holding his torso in a vise, and she wound her arms around his
neck, running her fingers through his hair, shivering with longing
for him. His hands kept her face captive, fingers threaded through
her hair, not allowing her to move her face away.

Suddenly, he leaned back from her, panting,
his face serious and hungry. He looked at her breasts, which she
had denied him earlier, then back to her face.

“Stop or go, Jane?” He breathed urgently.
“Stop or…?”

Her mind was exploding with contradictions.
She had never felt this turned on, this on fire. Her whole body was
aching for him. She wanted to tear off the rest of her clothes. She
wanted him to thrust inside of her over and over again until they
both cried out in release. She wanted the weight of his body on top
of hers, hot and hard, as he made love to her all night long until
dawn.

The only thing stronger than her desire was
her fear. She didn’t want to have any regrets. Although her body
screamed for his, she knew that surrendering was too risky for her
heart.

Jane leaned back, resting her hands gingerly
on his shoulders and his face fell forward, his forehead on her
chest, above her breasts. His chest moved up and down, heavy and
fast. She eased off his lap and he took a deep breath then released
it in a slow hiss before leaning back against the headboard, his
arm covering his eyes, still trying to catch his breath. She knelt
beside him, not at all sure she had made the right decision,
worried that he would get up and leave her, knowing it would be
best for both of them if he did.

He groaned and swallowed, then lowered his
arm. He looked at her with searching eyes and shook his head, as
though disappointed or annoyed, but he reached his arm out and
pulled her gently up against him. She placed her head back on his
chest as before, listening to his racing heart under her ear. When
she placed her palm on his chest, he flinched.
Sensitive.
He
covered her hand so that it was flush against him, but still.

“You sure you don’t want the ‘or?’” he
asked, gruffly.

“I do. But, I can’t.”
I can’t because I
can’t trust what will happen tomorrow. Because you make me doubt
myself. You put me in danger without meaning to.
Her voice was
small when she asked him, “Do you want to go?”

“Do you
want
me to go?” he asked, his
fingers trailing lazily up and down her arm.

She adjusted her head until she was
comfortable against him, desperate for the solid warmth of his
body. She sighed, closing her eyes, wishing she could escape from
her thoughts.

“Jane?” he prompted in a whisper.

“Will you stay with me for a little?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

***

The morning sun streaming through the windows
of the small room woke her up. When she opened her eyes, the first
thing she saw was Lars’s chest under her cheek, tan and blond and
perfect. He had pulled the comforter around her at some point, and
she sighed from the warmth of her cocoon.

She pulled the covers down a little, leaning
up on one elbow to look at him. He had slept with one arm under her
head and the other thrown over his eyes, which drew
her
eyes, like a magnet, to his exposed lips. Her stomach leapt as she
remembered the sweetness of him kissing her last night as they
danced to “Woman.” She took a shaky breath and sighed.

His lips turned up. “Take a picture, Minx.
It lasts longer.”

“How did you—”

He lowered his arm. “I’ve got good
instincts. That, and I peeked.”

She grinned, shaking her head at him and lay
down on her back, pillowing her head on his arm. He leaned up on
his side, over her, and ran the back of his hand against her
cheek.

“Morning, Minx” he said.

“Morning, Professor,” she answered.

He leaned down and pecked her lips with his,
then drew back, smiling into her eyes.

“I liked waking up next to you.”

“Is that right, Just-Lars?”

“That’s right, Minx.”

“Can’t call me that anymore. Starting today,
I’m on the clock.”

“You work for your cousin.”

“I work for Samara Amaya. I don’t forget it.
You shouldn’t either.”

“Well, she’s not here yet.”

He kissed her again.

She will be. Too soon.

Jane rolled away from him and sat up,
swinging her legs over the side of the bed, putting her back to
him.