Joanne Rock - Up Close and Personal

“The pleasure was all mine.” He’d fork over the cash to the waiter who’d brought the appetizers halfway through the class. Or donate it to charity. There had to be something he could do with the cash to take away the sting of guilt.

“But thanks.”

The woman stepped out of the room with her friend, the silent blonde, leaving Rocco alone with his masseuse and no witnesses for all the accusations he was about to make.

As soon as he shook off this sexual spell she’d kneaded into his skin with her addictive fingertips.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Rocco.” Jessica stepped back from him abruptly and reached for her suit jacket, almost as if she was nervous around him. But that couldn’t be. She didn’t have a clue about his real identity or his motive for being here.

What was that all about?

And moreover, how could he report back to his father on Jessica’s financial standing when he hadn’t done much tonight beyond finding out the woman possessed the most talented fingers imaginable? Had he gone to all the trouble to drive into San Diego and remember all he’d left behind on Coronado Island only to go home with a damned inconvenient hard-on to show for it?

Hell no. He hadn’t become a repo man for the fun of it. He’d done it to help out his father’s failing business. So he’d damn well do his job tonight, even if it meant confronting Jessica to find out the truth.

His plan for the night might have been delayed, but it was far from over. As an ex-SEAL, he was pretty good at assessing a situation and adapting as the need arose. He also knew better than to have any qualms about confronting a woman on her perfidy. He’d backed away from it once before and the end result had forced him out of the military for good.

“I didn’t come here just to work at your retreat.” He needed to remind himself of that fact—he’d gotten entirely too caught up in everything Jessica was selling.

Still, he couldn’t help but hope he’d been wrong about her. Or rather, that his father had been wrong about her.

“Really?” Her eyes widened as she shrugged into her conservative black jacket and covered up the fire-enginered camisole. “You came here for something else?”

She tipped her head sideways, her eyes wide as her fingers froze above the unfastened jacket buttons, her silver bracelet jingling gently.

And then she took a step toward him. He was still on the chaise longue and finally had himself under control again. The moment seemed surreal after she’d been so careful to keep physical distance during the massage. Her hands might have been turning him inside out with expert touches, but she hadn’t ever stepped over the line into sexual teasing or flirtation.

He didn’t think it was conceited of him to suspect that had taken some restraint on her part. The chemistry between them had been as irrefutable as the heat still rolling off his body and the jump in his pulse whenever she touched him. That chemistry simmered all over again now as she sank to sit beside him on the chaise, her hip just inches from his.

Anger churned beneath the heat. Anger at himself for being drawn in by her, and at her for attracting him in spite of a formidable willpower that had successfully hauled him through weeks of training that pummeled and defeated ninety percent of the guys who attempted it.

Damn it, he missed life as a SEAL, where the line between right and wrong had been more clearly defined, determined by the military or at least by his team as a group. Now he forged his own path. Was forced to trust only his gut without the resources of the Navy at his fingertips or the support of his team to back him up.

“I came here to—”

Investigate you.

But the words remained unspoken in the face of her expression. There was an openness about it, a yearning that was so palpable it seemed almost innocent.

Her gaze flicked down to his mouth, her pupils dilated.

She wanted him. She thought he was a damned waiter and she wanted him.

Not exactly the behavior of the gold-digging schemer he’d expected.

“Yes?” she prodded, nipping her lip and spinning her silver bracelet around one wrist while she waited for him to explain why else he had come to the workshop.

Shit.

Was she more innocent than he’d believed? Could she have gotten in over her head with her credit because she was naive or had somehow fallen on hard times? The memory of shoe polish covering the scuff marks on her heels nipped at his brain. The need to find out the truth weighed on him, forcing him to wait a little longer. To see what else he might learn about her.

Then again, maybe he just needed an excuse to taste her. To test the level of her innocence for himself before he confronted her with the reality of her bad debt.

Taking what her eyes had offered him long ago, Rocco slid his hand around the back of her neck to steady her and drew her closer. Her eyelids fell to half-mast, then drifted closed. He couldn’t have stopped himself if his father had launched the surveillance videotape at his nose.

Shoving aside second thoughts, he pulled Jessica’s mouth to his and kissed her.

THE EFFECT PROVED more potent than alcohol.

Jessica no longer wanted that chardonnay she’d longed for before the workshop. Rocco’s kiss made her head spin. The soaring sweetness soothed any hesitation she’d had about taking a seat here next to him in the first place.

She’d been right to want this.

She needed this.

For too long she’d shied away from intimacy. First out of fear; later, out of fear of disappointment that she’d studied sensuality in every conceivable form and still wouldn’t be able to relax and let go.

But this kiss told her that had been totally unfounded. Nothing about Rocco disappointed. He tasted as good as he felt, his lips covering hers with a gentleness that stunned her coming from such a powerful man.

Heat fanned high inside her. His mouth moved over hers with a skill that turned her inside out. He tilted her chin up, and her mouth opened to him without any conscious decision on her part.

His tongue stroked hers, coaxing a sigh from deep in her throat. She wanted to sink into the moment, to stop every clock for an hour—a day, maybe—to savor each conceivable nuance. As it was, sensations bombarded her, dragging her into a sea so thick with longing she couldn’t imagine how she would ever surface.

“Jess.” He whispered her name over her lips between kisses and seemed to urge her body toward him.

Not until then did she realize how perfectly still she sat beside him, only daring to give up her mouth to this man. Old habits were hard to break, but heaven help her, with Rocco, she could see herself making a good dent in her hang-ups.

Inching closer to him, she followed the soft pressure of his hand sliding down her shoulder to the small of her back. She nudged her left breast against him and she hesitated for just a second, testing the feel of it and discovering the touch lit up her insides. Pleasure coursed through her, flooding every nerve ending and urging her to seal her whole body against the fiery heat of his.

All of it was new to her. The immersion. The joy of it. The sense of wanting the kiss to go on forever. She’d always been painfully aware in every encounter she’d ever had with a man, second-guessing every awkward moment.

Regardless of how gentle he was, she appreciated that he didn’t roll her beneath him, Now, lying by his side, she had access to his bare chest.

At almost the same moment she laid a hand on his side, he speared his fingers beneath the jacket she’d never buttoned. He stroked the silky camisole, his hands skimming up her sides until he cupped the undersides of her breasts.