Kelly Jamieson: Breakaway

Stunning as usual, she stood nearly six feet tall in her three-inch spiky heels, wearing a purple dress that looked like it was wrapped tightly around her body in complicated layers. The deep V in the front showed off what he knew to be expensive implants. Long, dark hair hung in curls and waves nearly to her waist.

One corner of his mouth deepened. He sighed.

Remi said, “What’s wrong?”

He turned his gaze back to her. “Hey,” he said. “Don’t go back to your friends just yet.”

“Uh…”

“Now it’s your turn to do me a favor.”

Her lips parted and her bangs moved again with the lift of her eyebrows.

“My ex-girlfriend just walked in,” he said in a low voice, bending closer to her. “Stay and talk to me so she doesn’t uh…get any ideas about getting back together.”

Remi stared at him.

“You owe me.” He gave her his most appealing smile. It usually worked. And it did.

She smiled too. “I guess I do.”

He shifted a little closer to her. Just to make it look like they were together. She smelled incredible. Like spring flowers. Light and fresh and pretty. He inhaled, feeling a strange urge to bury his nose in her hair.

“We could go upstairs,” he said. “And sit down for a while.”

“That would be great.” She made a face. “My feet are killing me in these heels.” She extended a leg and he looked down. And a spark flared in him.

She had great legs. For someone so small, they were long, slender and perfectly shaped, with delicate ankles. The shiny black shoe with the skinny heel and pointy toe almost made him drool. He loved shoes like that. Especially in bed.

With black stockings and black lace underwear.

What kind of underwear did Remi have on under that sparkly little top?

Jesus, what was he thinking?

He gave his head a shake. “Come on.” He took her hand in his, so small it almost slipped right out of his grip, and led her toward the stairs that climbed to the next level.

“Going upstairs, guys,” he told his buddies as he passed them.

At the top of the stairs, the music a little quieter, the lights more subtle and glowing, he surveyed the couches and low tables. The place was full—what were the chances they’d find an empty banquette?

They moved through the bar, hand in hand, and then a couple stood.

“You leaving?” Jason asked and they smiled and nodded. Another sexy waitress appeared to clear their empties and Jason and Remi took a seat.

“Aaaah.” Remi let out a long sigh. Then she laughed. “I’m not used to wearing heels like this.”

Jason wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen Brianne without heels. Kinda funny.

He admired Remi’s legs again, the short skirt riding up higher on firm thighs. Sweet. He shifted sideways, leaning one elbow on the padded back of the banquette so he could face her.

“So…your ex-girlfriend. You don’t want to see her?”

He shrugged, his gut tightening. “Rather not.”

“Things didn’t end amicably?”

He pushed out his lips. “Uh, no. She was a little upset.” Her tears and pleading flashed through his mind and he winced.

“So you’re the dumper…not the dumpee, then.”

“Yeah.” He huffed out a laugh. “But I felt like crap. She’s a nice girl.”

“What went wrong?” She tipped her head, blue-green eyes fastened on his with focused attention, and sipped her drink.

He sighed. “She wanted to get married. I didn’t. I figured it was better to break up now than to let things get too far and have her disappointed.”

“I’m sure she was already disappointed.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shifted on the couch. “She’ll get over me.”

“Why do you say that?”

He looked at her. “I’m not that great a catch. I have this feeling she loved me for more than just uh…me.”

Her brows drew down and her bangs tangled in her long lashes. “I don’t know what that means. Was she after your money or something?”

He shrugged. “Or something. I don’t know. I don’t want to accuse her of being shallow. Like I said, she’s a nice girl.”

“Hmm.”

What was she thinking? He could see her mind turning over. Enough of this conversation about Brianne. She was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

“Jase!”

Dammit. He looked up at Brianne and forced a smile. “Hi, Brianne.”

She stood there all super-model tall and gorgeous, frowning and flicking her eyes back and forth between him and Remi. Her frown deepened.

The air thickened around them and he felt Remi tense. He put a hand on her bare forearm and slanted her a glance. Her eyes were wide and worried and she nibbled her bottom lip.

“I…uh…can leave…” she began, but he clamped down harder on her arm.

“That’s okay, honey,” he said.

“You said there wasn’t anyone else.” Brianne stabbed him with an accusing stare.

“There wasn’t.”

Remi tried to pull away from him and he held on tighter, dragging her across the leather seat easily—she weighed like a hundred pounds—and up against him. She shot him a startled glance.

“Brianne, this is Remi. Remi, Brianne.”

Brianne’s dark eyes shot sparks and then she swiveled on a spiky heel and stalked away.

Whew.

“Thanks,” he muttered into Remi’s ear. “I thought for a minute there she was going to make a scene.”

“That was your ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Brianne Haskett.”

“Jesus. She’s a famous model.”

“Well, yeah.”

“You dumped her?” Remi’s voice rose. She squirmed next to him so she could look up at him. This close he could see the green and blue flecks in her turquoise eyes, the long eyelashes that brushed her bangs every time she blinked, the perfect, smooth texture of her skin.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Silence. More silence. “Well, I guess we’re even now. I should get back to my friends.”

“Stay.”

She blinked up at him. He felt the room shift around him, slip out of focus, her face the only thing crystal-clear. The feel of her soft warmth, the fresh flowery scent of her, the way the red lights turned the flicked-up ends of her hair pink, combined with the deep gratitude he felt for her just being there and saving him from an ugly scene with Brianne, made him want to wrap his arms around her and carry her out of there.

So he said, “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter?”

Remi pulled back from Jason on the red leather banquette.

“What?”

He looked at her, eyes heavy lidded, mouth curved into a sexy smile.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter. Maybe that jazz club. This place is too…frantic.”

“Uh…” Remi’s mind worked furiously. What the hell was going on here? This was supposed to be a fake flirtation to get Delise off her back. Okay, and Jason’s ex, the freakin’ gorgeous supermodel Brianne Haskett. He’d dumped a model, but he was flirting with her? Plain little Remi? A boring, responsible school teacher? Whaaaat?

It had to be a joke.

She laughed.

He frowned.

She laid a hand on his chest—oh dear lord, what a nice chest it was, hard and muscular and warm—and gave him a playful shove. “Don’t be silly. We don’t even know each other. We’re just doing each other a favor.”

He blinked, brows still joined above his slightly crooked nose. It was cute, that crooked nose in an otherwise heart-stoppingly handsome face—square jaw, high cheekbones, melting chocolate eyes. A little scar above his left eyebrow was also endearingly imperfect.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “But I like talking to you. And it’s hard here, with the loud music and all these people.”

Her mind skittered off in a thousand different directions. He was serious. He liked talking to her. Warmth blossomed inside her and spread through her body, tingling through every nerve ending. Oh no. She recognized that feeling. It was…attraction.