Jane Millionaire

No, he wasn’t her Mr. Right. He was a famous Hollywood producer, and she was a cop. Had they met under different circumstances, he wouldn’t have given her the time of day--unless she’d pulled him over for speeding. Then, he probably would have flashed his toothpaste-ad-perfect smile and tried to schmooze his way out of his ticket.

And darn if she probably would have let him.

She grinned and pulled her covers tighter around her as she realized she most definitely wouldn’t have let him sweet talk his way out of a ticket. She’d have slapped handcuffs on his wrists and hauled his sexy Hollywood butt in to the station.

Oh, yeah. She’d have made a lasting impression on him, one way or the other.

She rolled over to stare through the moonlit room at the shadowed corner where the connecting door loomed. She’d offered her body to him, and he’d refused, continued to refuse each and every night that door remained shut. She had too much pride to go to his room again and throw herself at him.

She wasn’t a fool. She meant nothing except a quick tumble in the sack to pass time. Not really. She’d never had any great expectations of them having a happily ever after together. Rob wasn’t the type. He was pure Hollywood with all its glamour and glitz.

She suspected that for her their time together had been much more, and if he’d been receptive, she would have offered him her heart, along with her body.

Tugging the goose down covers closer around her, she closed her eyes and prayed sleep would come.

Squeak.

Her eyes sprung open.

Had she imagined the noise? Her gaze focused on the dark corner. Nothing. No shafts of light indicating the door had opened. Nothing at all.

Go to sleep, Jill. You’re imagining things.

Or maybe she’d gone to sleep and was going to have one heck of a dream starring Rob Lancaster in the buff. Maybe of him carrying her from the lake, peeling her swim suit off with his teeth and making love to her on the dock. A girl could hope.

Squeak.

Still no light, but she had heard a noise, and it had come from the direction of the door.

The connecting door.

The moon had apparently gone behind a cloud, because she could no longer make out much of anything, but she wasn’t dreaming. That much she was sure of. The door had opened.

Instinctively, she sensed someone was in her room, and even though she couldn’t see him, she knew that someone was Rob. Excitement shimmied through her. He’d come to her. What did it mean?

“Who’s there?” she asked anyway, barely daring to breath.

“Shhh,” came a low masculine voice from close to her bed, causing her to jump. She hadn’t realized he’d crossed the room. Had she been away from the force so long that her police instincts had dulled completely?

“You scared me.” She sat up in her bed, finally able to make out his outline.

“Shhh, don’t talk. I covered the camera, but our conversation will still be picked up if we don’t keep our voices down.” Rob’s whisper reminded. He reached out and touched her plait, stroking his fingers over the long rope she’d braided her hair into prior to crawling into bed. His touch bordered on reference. And uncertainty. “Am I welcome here?”

He was asking… Her heart skipped a beat. Not that she hadn’t known the moment she’d re

alized he was in her room why he’d opened the door, because she had. There could only be one reason.

She should say no. She should tell him to get lost after the way he’d completely ignored her since the night at the lake, but to do so would be punishing herself.

This was their last night. Forever. Because once they left this idyllic setting they’d each go back to their lives and he’d forget about her. He’d even told her as much.

But she couldn’t deny him. Didn’t want to. She’d love him with all she had and make memories to cherish during the lonely nights ahead.

“Yes,” she whispered, clasping his hand and pulling it to her lips. She pressed a kiss against the strong surface of his palm. “I left the door unlocked, didn’t I?”

“Shhh, no talking. Just feel.” He climbed into her bed, and she welcomed his emanating warmth by wrapping her arms around him.

“Okay.” Talking wasn’t what she wanted anyway.