Jane Millionaire

“I love Dan, always will. After all, he’s my best friend and partner, but he was right to dump me. I’ve realized that. I’m moving on. You’d be proud of me, because I’ve,” she paused. Cameras. Phone taps. She couldn’t tell Jessie about kissing Rob. Who knew what would happen if the news leaked out that she was lusting for the producer?

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Jill asked instead of mentioning Rob.

“I’m fine,” Jessie insisted. “Now, finish what you were about to say.”

“I’ve got to go. Love you. I’ll call again if I can.”

She clicked the phone to off and slid it back into the file cabinet. In seconds, she had the drawer restored to its former locked state. Phone conversations were not allowed. Period. If there truly were cameras in the studio, they were well hidden. Of course, if the phone was tapped, she was busted anyway.

She spun around to leave the studio and her gaze collided with Rob’s narrowed one.

Uh-oh. How long had he been standing there watching her? Had he seen her on the phone? How much had he heard of her conversation with Jessie? And why did she not hear him sneak up behind her? Her face flamed.

She ran her gaze over him. His snug faded jeans and Got Milk? T-shirt molded his body to perfection. For him, she’d get milk. Gallons and gallons of the stuff. Heck, she’d buy the whole cow.

“Rob,” she exclaimed, leaning back against the locked file cabinet, hoping she didn’t look guilty as sin, knowing she did. “I thought you were at the viewing of the show.”

“Obviously.” His eyes flashed, and he stepped further into the room. “Feel the need to reach out and touch someone this morning?”

“Huh?” Her gaze and attention lingered on the advertisement spread across his broad chest.

He gestured to the file cabinet behind her.

“Oh.” Busted. She quasi-shrugged and plastered a sheepish grin on her face. “I needed to check on my sister. She’s not got a great track record for staying out of trouble.”

He nodded slowly, stopping about three feet from where she stood. “And?”

“She’s fine.”

He gestured toward his cabinet. “Did I

leave my drawer unlocked?”

Crap. She should have left the darn thing open, then she could have fibbed and said yes. She had no defense, so she did what she always did under such circumstances. She went on the offense--distract and regroup. She tilted her chin, let her gaze wander up those washboard abs, broad chest, dynamite lips to meet his eyes.

“Wanna play basketball again tonight? New stakes?” She lowered her voice to a sultry invitation.

“Hell no.” His answer was swift and sure, but his weight shifted slightly and his Adam’s apple bobbed. Feminine power washed over her. No matter what he said or did, or how forbidden their relationship was, Rob did want her as badly as she wanted him. “You aren’t supposed to be on the phone. It’s against the rules.”

Guess her distraction didn’t work. She’d try again.

“And do you always play by the rules?” she teased, enjoying needling him. After his callous remarks yesterday he deserved it.

Okay, so he’d been warning her she could never be anything except a notch on his bedpost, but she’d never really thought otherwise. He was Rob Lancaster, movie producer. She was Jill Davidson, cop turned temporary actress. She knew they had no future together. No doubt they wanted completely different things from life. But, truth be told, long-term wants didn’t seem to matter so much when he stood right in front of her.

“Yes,” he answered her question, but she knew he was lying.

“If you say so.” She swept her gaze over him again in obvious appreciation, and then feigned a yawn. “Guess, I’d better get back to my jail cell before the dirty dozen are released.”

“San Padres’ jail cells must be a lot cushier than the ones I’ve been in.”

Hearing him use the name of the town she lived in churned up reminders that she wasn’t who he thought she was and she’d better quit forgetting it. Her brow rose. “Just how many jails have you been in?”

“Six for various films. I’ve never been detained in one as you seem to be implying.”

She grinned with mock innocence. “Not me.”

They stared at each other for a long time, neither speaking, neither moving. Jill fought the urge to close the distance between them. Although she might yearn for him, she didn’t intend to try to further their relationship. They wanted each other, but this situation was too complicated already.