tightening of his fingers on her arm showing evidence of his inner uncertainty as to what her next move would be.
Her eyes were purple as she looked right back at him, anger flaring in their depths, even though she too managed to look outwardly calm.
Come on, Jinx, Nik inwardly encouraged; at least give me a chance.
If he lost sight of her now, then he would have to start all over again tomorrow. Not that he minded doing that, but it would save a hell of a lot of time if she would just be a little more cooperative now.
‘Actually—’ she turned back to the older couple, smiling ‘—it really isn’t that far. Nik and I can easily walk it.’
‘Are you sure, Jinx?’ The other woman frowned her uncertainty with the suggestion. ‘It’s at least a couple of miles,’ she explained to Nik.
‘But it’s such a lovely evening.’ Jinx released her arm from Nik’s grasp to lightly link it with his. ‘I think it would be so much more fun to walk. Don’t you, Nik?’ she asked sweetly.
Beware the smile of an angry female, he acknowledged ruefully, at the same time happy to fall in with whatever Jinx suggested—as long as it included him. ‘Much more fun,’ he agreed dryly; a two-mile walk through the Saturday-night revelry of London sounded more like hell to him, but if it ultimately ended up at Jinx’s home, the home she shared with her father, then he was willing to put himself through it if she was.
If it ultimately ended up at Jinx’s home…
Somehow, after what she had said to him earlier, he had a feeling that wasn’t her intention.
‘Tell me,’ he murmured softly once they had been walking together in silence for some minutes through the balmy streets, Jinx’s arm still linked with his own, despite her efforts to release it, ‘will we be crossing any bridges on this fun walk home?’
‘Several,’ she snapped back tautly, obviously not happy with his reluctance to release her.
‘That’s what I thought.’ He grimaced—having a distinct feeling she was considering pushing him over the side of one.
‘One thing I can assure you of, Nik,’ she bit out tautly. ‘I’m not violent.’
‘Just private, hmm?’ he said knowingly.
‘Just private.’
‘I’ve heard several people refer to you as Jinx this evening,’ he said in an effort to divert her thoughts.
‘Close friends, yes,’ she confirmed stiffly—obviously not counting him amongst their number.
Nik disregarded that for the moment; she might not think they were going to be close friends, but he knew better! ‘How on earth did you come by such an unusual nickname?’
She shot him a mocking glance. ‘Changing the subject?’
‘Rapidly,’ he confirmed, laughter gleaming in his eyes; the chances of this petitely beautiful woman being able to force his six-foot-three, one-hundred-and-eighty-pound frame over the parapet of a bridge were ludicrous to say the least. Which wasn’t to say she wouldn’t give it a damn good try!
She gave an uninterested shrug. ‘When I went to school the other children quickly latched onto the fact that my initial was J. followed by Nixon, and when you say the two of them together…’ She trailed off pointedly, giving him a sideways glance. ‘You aren’t coming home with me, you know.’
Of course he knew. After the last two months of sending letters to her father, just in the hopes of being able to meet him and discuss the movie rights to his book, of the use of a PO box for that correspondence, of the author never agreeing to so much as meeting with his own publisher, it would be expecting too much now for his daughter to just take Nik home with her and introduce the two men.
‘You mentioned earlier that your father isn’t well…?’ he said instead.
She stiffened, all expression suddenly erased from her face. ‘I mentioned it, yes,’ she acknowledged guardedly.
‘Nothing life-threatening, I hope?’ Nik persisted.
‘It depends on what you call life-threatening,’ she returned evasively, a frown now marring her creamy brow.
He shrugged, having an idea that in the case of Jackson I. Nixon the writing and subsequent success of No Ordinary Boy didn’t fit in too well with his other literary achievements. Nik didn’t happen to agree with him, and neither did the millions of other people who had bought and enjoyed the book, but that was just his opinion…
His mouth twisted wryly. ‘It usually means resulting in premature death.’
‘Mr Prince—okay, Nik,’ Jinx conceded impatiently as he scowled his displeasure at the formality. ‘Just stay away from my father, okay?’ Her expression was fierce with emotion now.
‘But I only want—’
‘I know what you want, Nik!’ Her eyes flashed deeply purple in the illumination of the street lamp, her tiny hands clenched into fists at her sides. ‘You want to make a film of No Ordinary Boy. In the hopes, no doubt, of adding yet another Oscar to the five you already have in your trophy cabinet!’
God, this woman was beautiful when roused, whether to anger or passion. And at this moment Nik knew exactly which one he wanted it to be!
‘Perhaps I should feel flattered that you know I have five Oscars—’
‘And perhaps you shouldn’t!’
‘Another Oscar would be nice,’ he conceded huskily. ‘But at this moment I’m damned if I wouldn’t settle for a night in bed with you!’
Colour flared suddenly in the paleness of her cheeks, her lips full and inviting, her breasts moving with the same rapidity of her breathing.
‘I wasn’t aware that was an option,’ she retorted, the nerve pulsing in her raised jaw giving lie to that challenge.
Because Nik was experienced enough to know that, no matter how she might try to deny it—and she was denying it!—Jinx was as physically aware of him as he was of her.
‘Not as an instead of, no,’ he admitted gruffly, moving closer to her, not quite touching, but nevertheless feeling the heat given off from her body. He reached up to touch the pouting softness of her mouth, feeling the quiver his caress invoked. ‘You want me too, Jinx,’ he said with certainty.
Her eyes were so dark now they appeared black, her mouth trembling moistly, a becoming flush to her cheeks, the hardened nubs at the tips of the gentle sweep of her breasts visible beneath the thin material of her dress. And Nik was sure, if he could have touched the very centre of her desire, that she would be moist there too, as ready for him as he was for her. And they hadn’t so much as kissed each other yet! But that was easily rectified, Nik decided, no longer able to resist the urge to take her into his arms, to mould her body fiercely against his, to let her feel the surge of his desire against her warm thighs, before he bent his head and his mouth took hers—and his previously wellconstructed world fell apart!
Drowning.
