Jane Millionaire

“It could happen,” he said, after all, stranger things had.

“But it won’t.”

Why did she make comments downing her appeal when she exuded confidence in so many other ways? Hell, he was pretty sure he’d never met a more together woman than the one sitting next to him. Too bad she wanted Hollywood’s glitter. Lust for stardom would ruin her.

Not that any of his ramblings mattered. Jane was hands-off in so many ways somebody should post warning signs. Certainly, the prospect of her finding love on a reality show warranted a “Danger Ahead” notice.

Distracted, he said the first thing that popped into his head. “The question is whether or not you will fall in love with one of them.”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t believe in love.” Her eyes glowed a hypnotic green, like kryptonite. Fortunately for him, he was no super hero. His heart rate picked up anyway; throbbing so loud the booming beat probably echoed throughout the castle. Actually, his entire body throbbed, making him wonder if he should run while he could--before she sapped his ordinary male strength that was quickly succumbing to her supernatural feminine appeal.

“One bad experience and you’re shelving happily-ever-after for life?” It bothered him that he wanted to know as Rob the man, not Rob the producer. Maybe he should invest in a red cape and a bright “S” for his chest. If it would help him resist her allure, he might be tempted to wear blue spandex.

“How do you know it only happened once?” A quick shimmer of pain flashed in her eyes.

His grip on the computer mouse tightened. Just how many men had hurt her? And why the hell should he want to track down complete strangers just so he could pound their sorry faces?

Maybe her green gaze had robbed his sanity right along with his strength. No spandex tights were going to protect him.

“What about you? Any gaping chest wounds in your past?”

He blinked at her question. “We aren’t discussing me.”

And he certainly didn’t want to rehash any of his old flames. Not now, not ever. He looked at the computer screen, hoping she’d take the hint and let the subject drop.

“We are now.”

Damn, she was quick on the come back. He laughed in spite of himself, admitting, “A few.”

“And do you still believe in forever and all that jazz?”

He considered her question before answering. “I believe a man and a woman can have fun for as long as the attraction lasts. But once it’s gone, forever is a hell of a long time.”

“You say that like you’ve had a few long relationships.”

He didn’t turn from the computer monitor, but knew her gaze remained on him. “Only my marriage, and I doubt that classifies as long.”

“You’re married?” She sounded distressed, and he looked at her. She stared at his bare left hand, her face pale.

“Not in the past ten years. Mandy and I divorced when I was twenty-one.” He hadn’t regretted that decision a single time. Any bitterness he held came from how he’d given her his heart and all she’d really wanted was a free ride on his determined path to Hollywood success.

“Twenty-one? How old were you when you got married?” She leaned closer, her chair squeaking with her movement. He got a whiff of flowers, not strong, just a subtle scent that made him want to inhale deeply to fully experience her fragrance.

“Eighteen and old enough to know better.” Just like he was old enough to know better than to inhale. Don’t inhale. Don’t inhale.

He inhaled.

The scent of roses seduced him.

“What happened?” Genuine concern and curiosity shone on her face and Rob shifted in his chair as much from his intoxicating lungful of Jane’s scent as from the conversation.

How had they gotten into a discussion about Mandy? And why was he telling Jane about her? He never talked about his disastrous marriage. Why bother when everyone else had already read about his biggest failure thanks to media rags such as The Tattler. His marriage had ended because his wife stayed busy sleeping with anyone she thought capable of advancing her career. He bit back an ironic snort. Not that she’d been doing any actual sleeping in her bed-hopping adventures. Over the past ten years, she’d periodically begged Rob to take her back. Usually when she was between husbands or her career was going a bit slow. Not once had he been tempted.

Just like during their run in the gardens, it surprised him he’d revealed so much about himself to Jane. He generally guarded his privacy with a tenacity that would frighten off the most determined.

“I’m sorry. I have no right to pry. Being a cop, I’m used to asking questions, and expecting people to answer.” She smiled apologetically, tucking a stray strand of highlighted chestnut hair behind her petite ear. “Sometimes I forget I’m not wearing my badge.”

Glad for the change of subject, he ran his gaze over her, trying to picture her in her every day life. “It’s hard for me to imagine you in a uniform chasing down bad guys.”