Page 8 of He Has Charm

Surprise hits me right in my heart and then shoots down to my hot, melting pussy. I hope to hell he doesn’t notice me actually clenching my thighs. Because who doesn’t love a hunky superstar who adores his sisters and mom and spoils them with such obvious pleasure?

“Wait—what do you mean, son like you? You’re a fine son—you bought your mom a house. I mean—I saw the transaction… sorry. I’m not spying, I swear.”

He chuckles. “It’s oddly pleasing to know you’re watching everything I do, that you’ve been watching everything I’ve been doing all this time.”

“Not everything. Clearly. Because believe me when I tell you, I would have stopped you from that last excursion.”

“Tell me about it. I wish you had.” He shakes his head. “Since you really do know more about me than I want to think about, it’s your turn to divulge a secret. What other wild indulgences do you have besides expensive red-soled shoes?”

“Shoes are it. But they are gorgeous princess shoes—the ones I broke. When I’m in the room with VIPs as I often am, those shoes make—made me feel like I was one of them, like I belonged there.” I shrug, not embarrassed, but vulnerable. His intense blue-eyed stare says you’re the only person in the world, reassuring me that he gets it and he’s not judging.

“Which leads to the question of how you got to the Jett Agency and why?”

“Honestly? I used to be an athlete. Back in the day.” I can’t help a wistful pause, but he waits for more details and so I give them to him. It’s not exactly what I want to give him and not exactly what he really wants, but it’s all I can afford. “I played hockey and made it to college on a scholarship—UNH. But that was it. Full stop. No such thing as pro hockey for women. At least not the kind that pays the bills. And I’m not saying that I was good enough to go pro.”

“Impressive. Explains why you look so fit rather than skinny.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Also explains this … thing we have.” He moves his hand back and forth between us.

“We don’t have a thing.” Panic wells with the intense pleasure spreading through my belly, tightening my chest.

“Sure we do. I get a zing every time I look at those gorgeous eyes of yours or take a deep breath of your scent. I can’t place it, or describe it, but it knocks me sideways like a good hipcheck.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I barely stop myself from an indulgent giggle.

“That’s all you got? Not much of a denial.” His eyes see right through me and I shiver. He grins at my telltale response.

“No,” I insist, forcing conviction into my voice. “There’s nothing—”

“Yes, there is. And I can prove it. If you’ll let me. Or you can prove me wrong—if you’ll let me.”

“Let you?”

He nods, his eyes softening and hypnotic with their sensual pull as he moves close, leaning his head down toward mine. And even though I should, I don’t move. Not one single muscle, not even a breath.

His mouth touches my temple in a soft kiss of my sensitive skin, and though it’s a breathy, warm kiss, the effect is a shock to my system that sends a shiver of need racing down my spine. After the initial jolt I pull back, putting as much distance as possible between us as I look around to see if anyone saw us. He puts a hand on mine resting on the divider between us and takes my cheek in his other hand, forcing me to turn back and face him.

“You can’t do that,” I say before I get lost in his eyes and touch. “Don’t do that again.”

“I proved my point.”

“No you didn’t. There’s nothing—” He arches a brow and I huff out a breath. Denial is useless because he’s not stupid. In fact he’s an expert at seducing women, so he absolutely knows I’m a sucker for him. “Okay, so there’s an attraction, but so what? Every female in the known universe is attracted to you, so it proves nothing. And you can’t do that again. We can’t have any… hanky-panky.”

“Hanky-panky?” He snorts. “None of that. I disagree about the attraction between us. At least from my end. The kind of chemistry I feel with you doesn’t happen with every female in the universe—in fact, I don’t remember the last time it happened. Not like this.” He strokes his finger down my jaw and along my throat and then takes it away. He stops talking and frowns, then looks at the seat in front of us. “But you’re right. It doesn’t matter. We can’t have any hanky-panky. Not if you don’t want any.”

“It’s not up to me—not that I would. Want any hanky-panky. It’s the rule. The agency’s rule.”

“Ah. I get it. Rules. No problem. Strictly business between us.” He’s still turned and I miss the connection of his eyes on mine. But I have no right to his attention—at least not that kind of attention.

“Exactly. I’m glad you get the picture.” I’m the opposite of glad, if I’m being perfectly honest, and my face heats up along with the rest of me, acknowledging the extraordinary nature of my body’s reaction to him. He’s right. When does that ever happen?

Never. Not that I’ve been looking for a fling. Though the throbbing between my thighs insists that I’ve been neglecting my needs and it’s true. Maybe that explains my hypersensitivity to his nearness. Explains half of it.

The other half can be explained by his manly jaw with that dark stubble, dreamy blue eyes, and the overpowering sensual energy of his perfectly proportioned Charles Atlas muscled body. He could play a leading man in the movies for real as well as in my daydreams, where he has a recurring role. If only Godfrey Collins hadn’t squirmed out of this assignment I wouldn’t be in the difficult predicament of being handler for my secret and very much forbidden crush. Shit.

He leaves me alone and I’m finally able to concentrate on work until the plane lands.