SATURDAY EVENING, JAYNE entered the Centoria Mark for the last time. She chatted briefly with Selene, who handed over the key to the Mount Olympus suite. Then Jayne headed for the elevator. She’d decided to give herself this one final night of fantasy and passion. But when morning dawned she planned to say a final farewell to her Mystery Lover and end their affair.
How would he take it when she told him? Would he accept it philosophically and move on to another woman and another series of fantasies? Or would he be disappointed? Would he try and talk her out of her decision? Not that he could.
She entered the Artemis bedroom and paused, her breath catching. The decor topped anything she’d seen to date. She wasn’t quite certain it fit the theme she’d suggested for their final rendezvous, but she didn’t care. The room had been transformed into a bridal suite. Lace, tulle, pearl-beaded ribbons and pure white teacup roses twined around the posts of the bed and canopied the mattress. A silk virgin-white duvet edged in delicate lace covered the bed, while pure-white tower candles threw a soft glow over the room. The only color in the room came from the rose petals scattered across the duvet, the colors ranging from the palest blush to the deepest ruby-red. Bowls and vases of flowers were everywhere, filling the room with their heady scent.
Slowly she undressed. Tonight she’d be wearing a Renaissance-era gown. She only hoped she wouldn’t have any trouble getting into it. But when she opened the large box Courtney had stored it in, Jayne discovered a far different gown. It was utterly beautiful, but not something Juliet would have worn for Romeo.
The dress was made of chiffon, sheer and featherlight, the color variegated like the rose petals on the bed in every shade from sunrise-pink to deepest rose. It boasted an empire waist while two spaghetti straps held the bodice in place. The chiffon was tightly ruched across her breasts, practically serving them up on a platter. And the dress even had a train, the airy material flowing and rippling behind her with each step she took.
Deep inside the folds of tissue she discovered a necklace, a simple silver chain with a huge teardrop diamond set in delicate filigree threads of silver. No doubt it was one of the props from Courtney’s soap opera, but it was a beautiful piece and looked surprisingly real. Once Jane had secured the diamond around her neck, she checked the mirror. She’d decided to leave her hair down in the style Nick had admired the week before. It suited both the gown and her mood, if not the role of Juliet.
She knocked softly on the door between her bedroom and the salon before entering. To her surprise the salon was also decorated like a bridal suite with more candles, these in a deep shade of ruby. In addition to the candles, floral arrangements decorated every surface. Romeo stood in the shadows at one end of the room and she hesitated, suddenly realizing he wasn’t dressed in character, either. Instead he wore a black tux, a gray-and-white-striped cummerbund, gray gloves and a dashing black mask.
For the first time since he’d seduced her, Jayne felt an odd hesitation. “This doesn’t look like Romeo and Juliet,” she offered by way of greeting. “No, sïgnorina. I am not a fan of that particular play.”
She relaxed. She knew that soft, husky voice, pitched whisper-soft and hungry with passion. “Your Italian accent is even better than your Spanish.”
“There is a reason for that.”
“Are you Italian?” she asked lightly.
He inclined his head. “My family came from Italy, though it was many generations ago.” He escaped the shadows and approached. “I’m glad you’ve finally asked me a personal question. I was hoping you would eventually.”
She frowned. “And why is that?”
“Because I’ve discovered that a purely sexual relationship isn’t enough for me. I want more.”
Jayne was so taken aback she didn’t know what to say. He reached her side and cupped her face, lifting her for his kiss. Gently, oh so gently, he nibbled a path across her lips before sinking in, deepening the embrace. For a few precious seconds she melted against him. One last night, she reminded herself. One final night of passion. His arms tightened, sealing her against him, allowing her to feel his hunger.
“I missed you last week.”
“I—” She started to say, “I missed you, too,” but something stopped her. The truth. The truth stopped her. She allowed him to kiss her once again, then carefully eased back, slipping free of his grasp. “I didn’t miss you,” she confessed. “Not the way I thought I would.”
He froze. “Not at all?”
She studied his eyes through the slits of the mask. He’d chosen to use the bitter chocolate contacts from their first meeting and she found it annoying that she didn’t know the true color of his eyes. Even that was a fantasy. A lie. “I missed…pretending. I missed the fun we have.” She forced herself to admit the painful truth. “I missed the sex. You are truly amazing in bed.”
“We,” he corrected. “We are truly amazing in bed.”
It was hard to read his expression, much harder than reading Nick’s, probably because of the mask ML hid behind. “I thought I could handle one last night with you,” she murmured.
“But you can’t.” When she didn’t reply, he inclined his head. “I wondered when you said the theme would be Romeo and Juliet if you were sending me a subtle hint.”
“You’re right. I was.”
He waited, much as Nick waited when he wanted her to break the silence. When she didn’t, he said, “So did you come to say goodbye or are you here for one last night in my arms?”
“I thought I came for both.” She offered a self-deprecating smile. “I didn’t realize that I couldn’t spend another night with you.”
“Why?” He bit the question out, hard and sharp.
“Honestly?”
“At the risk of completely destroying the fantasy…yes.”
“Considering the time we’ve spent together, it’s only fair.” She took a deep breath and confessed, “There’s someone else.”
“Ah.” For some reason her admission caused him to relax. “And this man…he feels the same way about you?”
“No,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t really matter. I have feelings for him and because I do, it makes it impossible for me to be with another man. Can you understand that?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I can.”
As difficult as it was, she offered him the only gift she had left to give. “I won’t ask your identity. Maybe it’s best if you don’t tell me. And I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the sort of relationship you were obviously hoping for.” Weariness settled over her like a heavy blanket and she felt precariously close to tears. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go home.” She didn’t wait for his response, but turned toward the door to her suite.
“Jayne.”
That one single word stopped her dead in her tracks. He’d dropped the accent. Tossed off the low, husky whisper. Her name resonated with power and strength and a familiarity she couldn’t ignore. She knew that voice. Knew it intimately. Worked with it every single day. His mask came spinning over her shoulder, hitting the ground directly in front of her.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Jayne,” Nick repeated.
She whirled around, facing her boss, fury and anger vying for control. “No! How could you? How dare you?”
“Because I wanted you and couldn’t think of any other way to have you without causing serious complications at work.”
The blunt truth struck her like a blow. “You wanted. You took.” She fought to catch her breath. She was simply an object to him, a toy to be picked up and played with until he became bored. “You son of a bitch! You didn’t give a damn about how I might feel.”
He managed to look utterly bewildered. “Your feelings matter to me above everything else. Why else would I have gone to this much trouble?”
“You played me, Nick. You played me for an utter fool.” She rushed toward him, pulling up short just before she reached him. Hauling back her arm, she slapped him, putting every ounce of strength into the blow. “Consider that my resignation.”
“Jayne, wait! Please, let me explain.”
But she didn’t wait. Couldn’t wait. She darted across the salon to the Artemis bedroom. Slamming the door closed behind her, she threw the dead bolt between the two rooms. It only took a few minutes to strip off her gown and change into her street clothes. To her profound relief, Nick was nowhere to be seen when she exited the suite. If he had been, she suspected she’d have said something unforgivable. Done something unforgivable.
Tears blurred her vision. Instead, she’d return home and have the entire weekend to wallow in her humiliation.
NICK SWORE BENEATH HIS BREATH.
He’d screwed up royally. All he’d wanted from the start was to protect Jayne. Protect her from office gossip. Protect her from any discomfort she might feel if he’d originally approached her as her boss. Protect her from feeling obligated to leave Fontana, Inc. if their relationship didn’t work out.
Instead, he’d made her feel like a fool. He ripped off his tux jacket and slung it over a nearby chair. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d screwed up a merger this badly. Maybe if he’d been attempting a business deal the end result would have been different. But Jayne wasn’t a business and couldn’t be treated like one.
Hell, he should have realized that. But he’d been so blinded by his eagerness to finally forge a relationship with her, he hadn’t been able to consider all the possible angles. He was too close to the situation to weigh his options rationally.
He heard the outer door to Jayne’s bedroom slam shut. He was tempted to go after her, but knew better. She needed time to cool off. Like maybe a year or two. Damn it all! How did he explain to her that he wanted her from the moment he’d first set eyes on her? That he’d had any number of affairs go south because the women he’d dated only saw the Fontana name, never the actual man? That he’d hoped when he approached her at the New Year’s Eve ball he could seduce her and then reveal the truth in such a way that she’d be open to having a relationship with him. A real relationship.
She’d never give him the chance now. Nor could he come up with an alternate plan. He stared at the locked door to the Artemis suite. Probably just as well since his plans and Jayne seemed to be diametrically opposed.
JAYNE PACED THE TINY apartment. “The simple truth is, he played me, Courtney.”
“I suppose you’re right,” her friend replied, but doubt wove through her voice.
“What other explanation is there? He knew I didn’t want to get involved with someone at work, so this was his clever way around it.”
“How did he know?” Courtney asked diffidently.
Jayne frowned. “What?”
“How did Nick know that you didn’t want to get involved with a coworker?”
“Well, I…I told him, of course.”
“When?” Courtney tilted her head to one side, her bright red hair a brilliant contrast to her neon purple T-shirt. “Before or after the charity ball?”
“It was—” Jayne’s frown deepened. “Okay, it was after. But, still. Why did he seduce me at the ball while pretending to be Jonathan?”
“I don’t know. What did he have to say for himself?”
Jayne sank onto the couch. “To be honest, after I slapped him, he didn’t say much of anything.”
Courtney’s eyes bugged out. “You slapped Nick Fontana?” she asked in awe.
“Oh, God. I did, didn’t I?” Jayne fought to keep from hyperventilating. “But he deserved it. What he did was wrong on so many levels.”
“Jayne, I’ve listened to you talk endlessly about Nick ever since New Year’s. Even before New Year’s. Not once has he given you the impression that he’s a user or intent on getting beneath the skirt of every woman he meets. Jonathan, yes. But not Nick. You need to talk to the man and find out why he tricked you the way he did. You deserve to know and he should be forced to explain himself.”
“I don’t know…”
“You still have to clean out your desk, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Jayne closed her eyes, wanting to weep. Her job. She loved her job. Loved working for Nick. Or she had. “I don’t want to see him again. It’s too embarrassing knowing what we—” She broke off with a groan as a series of images flashed through her mind, images of the two of them together in their various sexual disguises.
Courtney wrinkled her nose, picking up on the cause of Jayne’s distress. “Yeah, that’s harsh. All this time he knew it was you. Saw you naked. And all the while you were totally clueless.”
Jayne flinched. “Courtney, please.”
“Sorry.” She curled up next to Jayne and gave her a swift hug. “So, go talk to him. At the very least you can give him another slap, right?”
“Right.”
But for some reason Jayne didn’t want to, not now that the first flash of anger had faded. She simply wanted to curl up in a miserable little ball and make the events of the past several months disappear. But Courtney was right. Jayne needed to face him. It took her the entire day Sunday and several hours Monday morning to gather the nerve to go into work. The instant she approached the desk of Nick’s PA, she was waved straight through.
“Go right in. He’s been expecting you, Ms. Myleston.”
Jayne found her boss—her ex-boss—standing at the bank of windows, resting his forearm against the glass while he stared broodingly out at the cityscape. “Nick.”
He stiffened, turned, his expression one of intense relief. “You came to work. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Only to clear out my desk, and—”
“And?” he prompted.
She steeled herself. “And to demand an explanation.”
He fixed her with a wary gaze. “I tried to explain on Saturday.”
“I wasn’t ready to hear what you had to say on Saturday.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I am now.”
He chose his words with care. “You want to know why I went to the extreme measure of approaching you at the New Year’s Eve ball in disguise instead of inviting you out on a normal date?”
Jayne nodded. “That would be a good place to start, yes.”
“I couldn’t approach you in the real world,” he stated simply. “I’m your boss.”
“So you disguised yourself as Jonathan—”
“As Zorro,” he cut in.
She wouldn’t let him get away with the distinction. “Knowing I’d assume you were Jonathan. Knowing I did assume you were Jonathan.”
The muscles along his jaw tightened. “I told you any number of times that I wasn’t.”
She ignored that. “All so you could get me into bed.”
“I never thought the night would go that far.”
“Then why the suite?” she shot back. “You had the room all primed for seduction.”
The muscles along his jawline flexed and tightened. “Okay, fine. I hoped. Hoped we’d end the night there.”
“Hoped I wouldn’t trip to the fact that you weren’t Jonathan. You even wore contacts that matched Jonathan’s eye color.”
Nick ran a hand through his hair and blew out a sigh. He spun to face her. “Fine. I knew you’d think I was Jonathan, though I hoped you’d realize I was someone different before we went to the suite. Someone better. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to get to know a woman without the Fontana trappings?” he asked in a low, harsh voice.
She refused to cut him any slack. “Poor you.”
“Damn it, Jayne! That ball finally gave me the opportunity to meet a woman on an even footing, a woman I’d wanted to get to know better for eighteen endless months,” he persisted. “Until that night, all the women in my life only ever saw the Fontana name and fortune. They could give two damns about whether or not I have the personality of a kumquat.”
Despite herself, Jayne felt her lips twitch and clamped down on her amusement with ruthless self-control. “That’s very sad, Nick.”
“It is.” He paced in front of her like a caged lion. “Especially when I finally meet a woman who appeals on every possible level. Unfortunately, she works for me and I can’t lay a finger on her because it could open me up to a sexual harassment lawsuit. So, I watch from the sidelines for all those endless months while she moons over that oblivious ass, Blair, and pray that he won’t notice her. That he won’t take her and use her and dump her like he has every other woman.”
Bright color lit Jayne’s cheeks. “Would you have stopped him?” The question escaped before she could prevent it.
He approached. “Hell, yes, I would have stopped him. Somehow. Some way. But I didn’t have to, did I? Because the perfect opportunity finally presented itself.”
She lifted her chin and glared. “All because you wanted to sleep with me before Jonathan did?”
“No. All because I wanted to sleep with you first, last and forever. Because I wanted to find a way to seduce you—not just in the bedroom, but on all possible fronts. After we spent the night together I was going to admit the truth.”
“I don’t believe you.” Didn’t dare believe him.
“Why the hell would I lie now?” His hands fisted. “I was going to tell you at lunch the Monday after the charity ball. But right before the big reveal, you informed me that after what happened with Jonathan—when I found you together in your office—you’d never date a coworker. That you particularly wouldn’t date me.”
Jayne froze. She had, hadn’t she? She remembered the conversation almost word for word. “You should have told me anyway.”
“Looking back, you’re right. But you were so earnest. So determined to win my respect and move ahead in the company. So an alternate solution occurred to me. I could continue the masquerade. I’d attempt to seduce you as your Zorro. That once our relationship deepened I’d tell you who I really was. But I miscalculated. Badly.”
Jayne struggled to keep his words from affecting her, but there was such raw passion and sincerity in what he said that it was a struggle to hang on to her anger. “You, the great Nick Fontana, miscalculated?”
A mocking smile touched his mouth, a mouth she’d spent endless nights kissing. It still came as a shock to know that the man she’d been making love to for the past several months was actually Nick. She found it unsettling. Embarrassing. And oddly exciting.
“You informed me, in my Mystery Lover guise, that you only wanted sex. So now I was really stuck. How was I supposed to create a relationship with a woman who insisted on holding me at an emotional distance?”
“What did you decide?” She realized something the instant she asked the question. She believed him. There was no mistaking the rawness of his honesty or the pain in his voice and attitude. “What was your next plan of action?”
“To attempt a business solution to a personal problem. I decided to seduce you on both fronts and then merge the two identities.” He grimaced. “You see how well that worked.”
“I can’t help but wonder if on some level I didn’t know you were my Mystery Lover,” she admitted. “Maybe I was deliberately overlooking all the clues—like how you managed to email me through my company address. Your ability to rent such an expensive suite week after week. How you knew what Jonathan intended to wear to the ball. Maybe I was afraid to question it too closely in case I figured it out.”
“And was forced to act on your newfound know ledge?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes. “But after a while I couldn’t let the affair continue.”
“Because you fell for Nick. Me.” He shook his head. “Hell, you know what I mean. You fell for the real man, not the fantasy.”
“I thought I did.”
Passion exploded in his gaze. “You know you did. I may have handled this badly but that doesn’t change our feelings for each other. Maybe it would have been simpler if you’d fallen for Zorro or Robin Hood or Blackbeard.”
He’d lost her. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would that have made things simpler?”
“Because it would have given us more time, time for our relationship to deepen and develop.”
“And now?” She couldn’t help asking the question.
His jaw set. “I won’t give you up.” Before she could stop him, he gathered her in his arms. “Whether it’s as Nick and Jayne, or Zorro and Cleopatra, or any of the other characters we’ve played, one simple fact hasn’t changed. We belong together. Please, Jayne. I love you. Give us a chance.”
Everything within her melted. How could she refuse when he offered exactly what she wanted? When every emotion he expressed mirrored her own. “I…I’d like that,” she confessed.
He kissed her then, a kiss filled with fantasy and romance…and a delicious reality. She fought for reason. Fought to retain her sanity. But sanity vanished beneath the onslaught of his mouth. The familiar sweep of his hands. The distinctive press of his body. She could feel her anger and distrust fade, replaced by a need and a joy and a love that transcended everything else.
He released her long enough to snatch up the phone. “Hold all calls,” he instructed his PA. “I don’t want to be interrupted for any reason.”
Then he swept her into his arms. He paused by the door to the outer office and locked it, then carried her to the couch in the sitting room. Slowly he undressed her, then himself. For the first time, Jayne felt a touch of self-consciousness which made her laugh.
“How many times have we done this?” she marveled. “And yet, I’m actually feeling shy.”
“I think I can fix that.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Close your eyes.”
“Nick—”
“Shh. Just do it. Close them.” He cupped her face and feathered a soft kiss across her mouth. “Now feel and remember.”
The minute she did as he asked everything snapped back into place. She knew this man, adored him, was intimately familiar with his shape and size and weight. With the way he kissed and the tenor of his touch. She relaxed into the embrace.
“I love you, Nick. I can’t believe I’m saying that,” she marveled. “This is the best fantasy, yet.”
“Maybe because it isn’t a fantasy. It’s reality.”
He took it slow, acting as though it were their first time together, which in a way it was. She wanted this moment to last while he built sensation upon sensation. She whispered his name—his real name—and felt his shudder, knew that he’d been longing for her, just once, to make love to him, to Nick, instead of a mysterious fantasy man. And so she called to him, swept him off to a place where reality and fantasy met and melded.
To Jayne’s delight, that day proved more spectacular than any night that had gone before. And she knew why. She’d finally gotten her wish, had been given the best of both worlds. She’d found a man who made reality a fantasy and who had turned her every fantasy into reality.
Eighteen months later…
JAYNE APPROACHED THE registration desk at the Centoria Mark and greeted Selene with a broad smile. “Good evening. I believe you have a reservation for me?”
“Why, yes, Mrs. Fon—” She broke off with a chagrined laugh. “Sorry, I mean, Ms. Angel. I have your key right here. Your usual room is ready for you.”
“Would you happen to know if Mr. Lucifer has checked in yet?”
“He has. He checked in a half hour ago.” Selene leaned forward. “He mentioned something about a little surprise.”
“Did he?” Jayne grinned. “I do believe he’s in for a little surprise of his own.”
“I hope you have a lovely evening,” Selene said with a wistful sigh. “But then, I guess you always do.”
How could Jayne deny it when it was the truth? With a quick wave, she headed for the elevators and then on to her suite. She opened the Artemis door and stepped into heaven. To her amusement, cherubs looked on while angelic hosts sang through speakers concealed around the room.
She couldn’t wait to see what Nick—er, Lucifer—had done with his bedroom. She looked forward to sampling all that heaven offered, as well as the sinfully delicious Underworld. After donning her costume and checking to make sure she looked suitably angelic, she headed for the salon and her Lover from Down Under. He was waiting for her, wearing a lot of red body paint, horns and little else.
“G’day, mate,” he greeted her with a broad grin.
She burst out laughing at his Aussie accent. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” She approached her husband. “I have it on excellent authority that you have a surprise for me.”
He opened the champagne and poured the wine into two crystal flutes. He handed her one of the glasses, along with a small box. “Happy anniversary, darling. It doesn’t matter whether we’re in heaven or hell, so long as we’re there together.”
She deliberately set down the flute—no alcohol for her—and opened the box. Inside were a pair of earrings that matched the diamond necklace he’d given her the night she’d discovered his true identity. A diamond necklace that hadn’t been a prop or fantasy, but the real thing.
“They’re beautiful,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He glanced down at her white gown. “I’m afraid some of this body paint may be rubbing off on your dress.”
“That’s what I get for giving in to temptation,” she teased. She lifted for his kiss, slowed it down, then deepened it. How was it possible that it only got better? “Are you ready for your gift?”
He shook his head. “I think you already gave it to me.”
“Not yet. Not for about seven more months.”
It took a split second before he understood. He grinned broadly. “Son of a— You’re pregnant?”
“I am. And there’s only one question.” She snuggled close. “Am I expecting an angel…or a devil?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He slipped a hand and rested it low on his wife’s abdomen. “Angel or imp, this is one reality that beats the hell out of every other fantasy.”