Girl's Guide to Hunting & Kissing

“Yes, on one condition.” Damn it, how had she blurted that out? She hadn’t consciously made up her mind when the words were tumbling from her lips. But then, her impetuous nature had brought her as much good luck in life as bad. She owned a quarter of the controlling shares of Club Paradise thanks to following a whim.

As long as she kept an upper hand in this relationship, she would be okay. And her condition would provide that edge she needed to stay in charge.

“Name it.”

Reaching up to his neck, she loosened his tie and then carefully unfastened the top button of his perfectly pressed shirt. She could do this seduction thing, couldn’t she? Surely she could find a way to rattle Jackson’s oh-so-admirable control.

Allowing her voice to hit a breathy note, she gazed up at him. “You let me teach you how to go a little wild.”

Maybe part of her hoped he’d back down. That way she’d never have to risk having a good time with a man all wrong for her. Of course, that was the same part of her that also wished they could have just slept together tonight after that amazing kiss. They could have taken the edge off all those lusty feelings zinging back and forth between them without the messy complications bound to follow in a relationship.

To his credit, Jackson never even hesitated. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Summer. And lucky for us I just happen to know the most legally binding way to seal the bargain in the absence of a notary.” His hands materialized on her shoulders, the hardened palms providing a pleasing rasp against her skin.

“You do?” She was too busy worrying about whether she’d just made a crazy decision based on physical attraction to follow Jackson’s thinking.

But as his gaze narrowed to her mouth and he loomed closer, Summer realized what he had in mind.

And maybe it wasn’t too late to tumble all gorgeous six-foot-plus of Jackson Taggart into bed tonight.

HER KISS seared his insides. Hell, his outsides were pretty much on fire, too.

Must. Not. Hit. The. Sheets.

Jackson clung to the thought as Summer tugged at his shoulders and wriggled her way toward the lush red satin bed.

He never should have indulged in another kiss. He’d only wanted a little taste of her to tide him over until tomorrow and make her anticipate their day together.

But she’d thrown herself into the lip lock with no restraint, and now she proved to be every inch the bedroom goddess he had pegged her for when he first spotted her in the lounge tonight.

If he allowed her to woo him into her bed, his gut told him she’d skate out of their date tomorrow and he’d never have the chance to learn anymore about her.

Damn it, he wanted more from her than that.

He wanted to see what she had in mind for teaching him how to go wild. No doubt, he’d have a few surprises in store for her in that department, but he was perfectly content letting her take the lead if it made her feel more comfortable.

And just maybe part of him looked forward to thumbing his nose at his family, the press and all his government contacts pressuring him to run in a race he hadn’t had time to really even consider.

Dating unconventional Summer would certainly be a public declaration that he was tired of being the golden-boy bachelor.

After too many years of dating ambitious society debs who played all the same games as him, he’d have a hell of a time smashing that picture-perfect image of himself.

If he wanted any of those things to materialize, however, he needed to stay out of Summer’s bed tonight.

Pulling away from her sultry embrace despite the flames licking over him, Jackson searched for a breath that wasn’t laden with the musky floral scent of her.

Found none.

Much to his male satisfaction, her eyes remained closed for a long moment afterward. It would be so easy to resume their kiss, to follow the irresistible pull of her…

Desperate for a way to keep things under control before he lost it completely, Jackson’s gaze seized on the pile of lingerie on the other side of the room.

Thank you, God.

“So is it my turn to ask the questions yet?” He traced a line down the bare skin of her arm and slipped his hand around her fingers. Her nails were short, painted with barely-there polish. She wore a silver band woven with a Celtic pattern on one thumb.

She blinked twice, tucked a strand of silky blond hair behind one ear. “Ask away.”

“Is that your lingerie over there?” His loosened tie and unbuttoned collar didn’t make him feel any less hot. And although Summer’s lingerie collection wasn’t exactly safe conversational territory, it was a damn sight better than falling into bed with her before he could find out more about her.

“I chose the pieces, but they’re all going to be specialty amenities and props for the bordello.” She eased her fingers from his grip and made her way toward the coffee table where the mountain of silk, satin and velvet presided. “Some are vintage and some are new, but they’re all reminiscent of nineteenth-century bordello garb.”

To illustrate, she held up a creamy-colored corset thing edged in black lace. Black satin garters dangled from the bottom.

“Very nice.” He peered from the creamy corset to the crimson lace-up garment Summer was wearing. “It’s sort of like what you have…on.”

An image of those garters hugging her thighs blasted into his brain in full-blown color. His throat promptly dried to dust.

A wicked smile kicked up the corners of her mouth. “It’s exactly what I have on. Same vendor, different color. I have to admit this job is dangerous to my personal budget, but I find a lot of gorgeous clothes and furnishings this way. Did you know I’m the ambiance coordinator for the club?”

He hadn’t known, and he scrambled to pick up the conversational thread before he drowned in sensual visions of Summer’s pale thighs draped in black satin and lace.

“Is that like a decorator?” His voice sounded strangled even in his own ears.

“The decorating is just a part of my job. I have a hand in the total sensual experience of Club Paradise from the food and the music to the colors, party themes, flowers…” She laid the creamy corset back on the pile of silky undergarments. “…and occasionally, lingerie.”

The comment called to mind snippets of the conversation he’d heard between Summer and her girlfriend earlier. He happened to know the bordello was her favorite fantasy room.

“So did you come up with the concepts for the hotel suites?” Crossing the thick pile carpet to where she stood near the sitting area, Jackson peered around the room with new eyes, taking in the details of the lush seating, the silver-plated cigar box on the night stand, the framed sepia-toned photographs depicting half-clad women from another era.

“I brainstormed with my partners to come up with the themes and then I ran with them.” She reached into the open cherry armoire and pulled out a padded hanger. With careful fingers, she draped a frothy pink scrap of lace across the padding and hung the costume in the closet. “I’m proud to claim full responsibility for the bordello however.”

He recalled her wistful remark to her friend about being totally overwhelmed and at a man’s whim. Dangerous, forbidden knowledge he had no right to have heard.

Still, he’d trade his stellar track record as a trial lawyer for a chance to be a part of Summer’s fantasies.

“You should be.” He walked over to the silver cigar box to prevent his restless body from getting closer to her again. He didn’t know how much longer he could be in the same room with Summer without touching her again. Removing one of the Cuban smokes from its velvet-lined case he sniffed the aroma. “I’m no expert on the historical authenticity, but if you were aiming for a design that promotes intense sexual thoughts, the ambiance of the bordello is dead-on.”

Summer watched Jackson finger the cigar before replacing it in the box, his words causing her blood to pump a bit faster through her veins. She paused as she reached for a wine-colored merry widow and straightened.

Did he think to play games with her that he would rev her engines so acutely and then turn away?

“Actually, I’m beginning to wonder if I failed miserably in the design now that I’ve shared this room with a man for the first time. How come a room that promotes intense sexual thoughts doesn’t inspire any actual…sex?”

Jackson flipped the lid closed on the cigar box. When his gaze met hers across the room, his eyes glittered with new heat. “Never let it be said I left this room uninspired tonight.”

As he turned more fully toward her, the tent-effect of his trousers told her just how inspired he’d grown.

Realizing she was staring, she struggled to lift her gaze. Failed.