have fun in Vegas? You liked me there, right?”
“Vegas was a fantasy.”
“But you married me. That means I’m not such a bad guy.” He gave in and drew her toward him, letting them glide to a stop on the far side of the pond.
She gazed up at him, and there was a hint of something encouraging in her blue eyes. “You’re a liar, a cheat and a con man.”
He tipped his head, hoping he was right about the message in her eyes. “But you want to kiss me anyway.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Liar,” he whispered, moving closer.
“This better be for show,” she said.
“This isn’t for show.”
“Jack.”
“I really am going to kiss you.”
“I can’t pretend we’re married.”
“Sure you can.” His lips touched hers.
They were cool and soft and erotically delicious. In a split second, she was kissing him back.
He twined their fingers together, deepening the kiss, bending her backward, fighting the instinct to pull her fully into his arms. He kissed her as long as he dared. Then he slowly broke away.
“This is a bad idea,” she said.
“This is the best idea I’ve ever had. We are great together.”
He could see her skepticism.
He could tell she was about to say no, so he kept on talking. “Plus, we both know it’s a fantasy. How can there be anything wrong with a good fantasy?”
“Jack.”
“There’s some serious chemistry between us, Kristy. I know it, and you sure know it.” He could still feel her slick body responding under his hands. “We’re both adults,” he continued huskily. “We have a fantastic time. And we both walk away at the end.”
He kissed her again, this time he kept going until she was breathless.
“Where’s the harm?” he asked against her mouth.
She inhaled deeply, hesitated, then spoke. “Can I think about it?”
No! he wanted to shout.
“Sure,” he said instead.
“No. Oh, no!” Sinclair’s shriek echoed in the distance.
Jack and Kristy turned to the sound.
Hunter was behind her, hands on her hips, pushing her faster and faster and faster across the pond.
Jack couldn’t help but chuckle.
“She’s going to kill him,” Kristy muttered.
“I’d say he’s got the upper hand.”
“Sooner or later, he’ll have to stop. And then she’ll kill him.”
Jack doubted that.
He put an arm around Kristy. He wasn’t going to waste valuable time worrying about his cousin. He drew her against his side. It felt good, too good. He wished he dared put forward another argument. He couldn’t bear the thought of another celibate night sleeping next to her in his bed. There were moments when he honestly thought it might kill him.
But he knew he had to wait. Married or not, he was asking her for a holiday fling, and she had every right to say no.
KRISTY WAS going to say yes.
She’d known it before breakfast.
Heck, she’d known it half the night.
She’d forced herself to sleep on the idea. But deep down inside, she’d known all along she was going to make love with Jack again. He and Vegas had been constantly on her mind. It showed in the way her body hummed around him, and it showed in the fantasy clothes she’d created.
She was staring at them now. Megan and Isabella weren’t due for another half hour. Every morning, they dropped their kids off at school before making their way to the mansion.
Kristy ran her fingers over the waterfall dress and the hot-air-balloon pants, holding the kicky crop top up against her chest.
She’d added a bikini for the swim she and Jack hadn’t taken at the waterfall. She’d also mocked-up a cocktail dress out of a gorgeous piece of hand-dyed Mikado silk. It was black at the bottom, rising to midnight blue and orange then yellow like the desert sunset they’d shared.
She’d also created a sexy wisp of a dress, dark green from the casino, with diamonds of lace inset in the sides. But the crowning finale, the one she couldn’t wait to finish, was a dramatic red charmeuse silk evening gown. It was strapless, with a tight bodice and a straight full-length skirt. She’d sewn tiny triangles of lace into the hemline, flouncing it out with crinoline to mimic the roulette wheel.
She sighed.
Maybe someday she’d see one of these on a runway.
“Hey, Kristy?”
Before Kristy could react, Sinclair was through the door and into the workshop.
“There you are,” said Sinclair.
Kristy shifted in front of the collection, hoping her sister wouldn’t notice it. “I knocked on your door this morning,” she told her sister.
“I guess I slept in.”
“What happened? Did you two stay up late fighting?”
Kristy and Jack had left Sinclair and Hunter in the great room with mugs of liquor-laced hot chocolate and in the midst of a ridiculous debate about dating etiquette.
“I won pretty quick,” Sinclair told her, her gaze sliding to the clothes. “What are those?”
Kristy blocked her view even further. “Just … uh … something I’m fooling around with.”
Sinclair went around her.
“They’re great,” she said with genuine enthusiasm, lifting the green dress on its hanger and holding it against her body. “Very sexy.”
“These, over here, are the ones for the show.” Kristy tried to direct Sinclair’s attention to the Irene collection.
But Sinclair wouldn’t be distracted. “You made all of them?” She put the green dress back and switched to the waterfall dress.
“I did,” said Kristy. “But, these ones—”
“Are boring,” said Sinclair, with a dismissive wave
