Mission: Make-Over

‘Jake.’ Lucianna whispered his name in shock, fully intending to ask him what on earth he was doing in her home and quite obviously making himself at home, his body slick and wet from his shower and the towel, which he had wrapped around his hips, leaving little to conceal the fact that…that he was Jake…and she…she was…

But, before she could open her mouth, to her chagrin, and for no reason that she could really think of—unless you counted the fact that she was desperately, despairingly in love with him and just the sight of him made her ache so badly inside with the need to fling herself headlong into his arms and to be held tenderly and lovingly there, whilst he—Lucianna discovered that she had started to cry.

Not delicate, neat, tidy little dewdrops of tears that could easily be sniffed away, either, but huge great tearing sobs that blocked her throat and made her whole body shake with the anguish of what she was feeling.

‘What is it? What’s wrong? What has he done…? Where the hell is he?’ She heard Jake growling with increasing ferocity as he totally unexpectedly fulfilled at least one part of her fantasy by grabbing hold of her and, if not cradling her tenderly and lovingly, then at least offering her the comfort of his arms and the solid proximity of his body. He demanded, repeated, ‘What the hell has he done to you, Lucianna, and where is he?’

‘Having dinner at a restaurant,’ Lucianna told him in between hiccuping sobs. ‘I left him there. He couldn’t have driven; he’d had too much to drink.

‘He’d told people that we were engaged, that we were going to be married,’ Lucianna explained, still sobbing as Jake’s arms tightened almost painfully around her. ‘But it wasn’t true; he didn’t want to marry me at all—it was just because he’d had an affair with someone else…He just wanted to use me to protect his job. He didn’t love me at all really.’

Now she was crying in earnest, although she had no real idea why, unless it was because Jake was holding her more like a brother than the lover she wanted him to be.

She shivered suddenly.

Against her cheek she could feel the hard warmth of his shoulder, smell the clean, damp, freshly showered male smell of him, and her body was reacting to it as though she had inhaled the headiest and most intoxicating of drugs. Forget the alcohol, her brain decided dizzily—being close to Jake like this was having a far more dangerous effect on her senses. She wanted to stay close to him like this for ever—no, longer than for ever—for eternity and beyond eternity—but already Jake was starting to move her away, holding her off with one hand whilst he reached out with the other to push open the sitting-room door.

‘What you need is a hot drink and the chance to calm down…’ Lucianna heard him saying pragmatically.

Suddenly she had had enough. What she needed was most definitely not a hot drink; what she needed, what she wanted…

Later she would swear to herself that if she hadn’t been genuinely overwhelmed by a sudden fit of shivers she would never, for one minute, have behaved in the way that she did. For the fit of shivers was genuine and unplanned, and it seized her body with such force that Jake immediately frowned, releasing the open door to take hold of her with both hands as he told her grimly, ‘You’re in shock. You need—’

‘I need you, Jake,’ Lucianna heard herself saying to him shakily. ‘I need you so much right now that I…’

She wasn’t the one who had suggested buying the book that told her how to flirt with a man, she was to tell herself self-righteously later. All she had done was do as she was told, buy it and read it. And if she had read that to reach out and touch a man’s bare forearm with one’s fingertips and, moreover, to draw those same fingertips oh, so gently down the bare skin in a soft stroking motion was a definite and provocative come-on that very few men would be able to resist, then whose fault was that? Not hers.

Whoever had written that book obviously knew what they were talking about, she acknowledged in heady triumph half a dozen seconds later when she had felt the whole of Jake’s arm jerk in response to her touch and had heard the soft, stifled groan he had made in his throat.

‘Lucianna, I know that John’s hurt you and that right now you’re—’

‘I’m cold, Jake,’ Lucianna told him, overriding him. ‘I’m so cold, please hold me,’ she begged him piteously.

‘What you need is a hot bath and then bed; things will seem much better in the morning, you’ll see,’ Lucianna heard Jake telling her gruffly.

‘Mmm…’ Lucianna agreed, snuggling deeper in his arms. ‘But you’ll have to help me, Jake; I’m just so cold…’

From her position, cuddled up against his body, Lucianna could feel the groan that shuddered through his chest.

‘I know you don’t know what you’re doing, Luce…or what you’re inviting…but…’

Very slowly Lucianna lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him, deliberately moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue.

‘What am I inviting, Jake? Tell me…show me…’ she whispered provocatively.

Surely it couldn’t be the three glasses of wine she had had to drink that was responsible for her extraordinarily out-of-character behaviour? Lucianna questioned herself dizzily as she let her glance drop very slowly and very, very deliberately—another hint she had picked up from that book—from Jake’s eyes to his mouth.

It worked. She could actually see the muscles in his face tense, feel the sensual hardening of his body as he tried to pull away from her, and then, with a speed and ferocity that took her off guard, he dragged her back down against his body, cupping her face with one hand whilst he pressed the other to the base of her spine, urging her against his own body as he told her between the fierce, hungry kisses he was pressing against her eager mouth, ‘Feel what you’re doing to me, Luce…Feel how much I want you.’

Instinctively Lucianna moved closer to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him as she returned his kisses with unashamed intensity, opening her mouth to him and to the sensual probe of his tongue, moaning soft, sweet sounds of pleasure into his mouth as his kiss deepened and his hands roamed her body, stroking, moulding, shaping, caressing.

She cried out in swift, sharp pleasure as his hand cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing demandingly against her already stiff nipple.

‘Jake!’

As she breathed his name into his mouth, Lucianna reached impatiently towards the towel he was wearing, but Jake got there first, holding her upper arms as he kissed her with increasing passion and urgency, her own heartbeat starting to race as her body picked up on his arousal and excitement—and shared it as he demanded thickly, ‘What is it you want, Lucianna? Who is it you want? Is it me…?’

‘Oh, yes, it’s you…you I want, Jake,’ Lucianna averred frantically, kissing his throat and then his shoulder as she felt herself starting to spin crazily out of control, her emotions, her arousal bringing her flesh out in a betraying rash of goosebumps. She pleaded, ‘Take me to bed, Jake…please, please; I want you so much.’