For His Eyes Only Read online

  His pride surged when she screamed his name, but he also felt a sense of comfort now that he knew the identity of the woman who spent so much time in his thoughts even though they rarely saw each other. He made a mental note to learn her job title—and a lot more—before next year.

  Something clicked in his mind as he studied Jacey’s arching figure and considered her employment at Insomnia. Her full breasts, narrow waist and slim legs, the ecstasy on her face…not to mention that gorgeous hair. She looked like a Playboy centerfold. Draped in lingerie, she’d look like a photograph—a beautiful photograph selling sexy intimate apparel.

  As if on cue, she opened her eyes and smiled at him, and he kissed her lightly on the lips before letting her rest and heading to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He looked in the mirror and grinned at his messy hair and a face that needed a shave. Maybe he would find a new model by Monday.

  He hurried back into the bedroom, hoping to catch her before she left. “Jacey, can I ask you—?”

  He cut the question short when he saw her stretched out on the bed, lying on her back just as he’d left her. For a moment he stood there and listened to her heavy, even breaths. With a smile, he tugged his boxers back on and rested his head on the vacant pillow.

  He would ask her tomorrow.

  Jacey Cass bolted upright when she saw that she still lay in bed next to Alex in his hotel suite. It didn’t take long to notice the bright border the rising sun had painted around the curtains on the window.

  Dawn.

  Panic swept the air from her lungs. If he woke up and found her there, they would have to engage in morning-after small talk, which would lead to questions about who she was, where she came from, what she did for a living…

  God, no. Her skin grew clammy and she pushed the sheets aside, then slid off the bed and crept across the room to collect her scattered clothing. She couldn’t give him answers to those questions. He was her escape from all that, and she’d successfully avoided the getting-to-know-you discussion each year. She had no intention of changing that now.

  Her heart raced. She fastened her bra inside out and heard the painful sound of her too-tight dress ripping at one of the seams, but she didn’t have time to care. Stumbling into the bathroom and closing the door to confine the light, she hurried to shimmy her ankles into the scads of tiny straps on her shoes. It wouldn’t be easy to run away in stiletto heels, but she had no choice. She hadn’t exactly packed an overnight bag. She and Alex never spent the night together.

  She swung the door open, flung her evening bag over her shoulder and turned to leave.

  A tall, dark, and very familiar figure loomed in front of the exit, arms crossed and expression amused. “Let me guess. An important meeting at six a.m.? On a Sunday?”

  Jacey leapt backward in shock but managed not to squeal. Instead, she stuck her chin in the air and studied the expensive artwork on the wall. She had no idea what those splashes of paint were supposed to represent, but at least they kept her eyes off the sinewy physique she wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing or touching for another three hundred and sixty-four days.

  “My schedule is none of your business. The point is that I’m leaving. I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night.”

  Alex shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

  “You must have worn me out.” She tried to force a smile, but she was tired and she’d done enough pretending for one weekend. Fancy clothes, schmoozing with executives, looking like a million bucks when her paycheck barely covered groceries…it was nauseating.

  Shame burned the surface of her skin. Alex didn’t know that when it came to those parties, she only felt real after he arrived and took her in his arms. As far as he knew, she regularly lived the life of the glamorous woman she portrayed every year. He’d never seen her otherwise. But she had been wrong when she’d told him Insomnia’s summer party resembled her Christmas morning. It was more like Halloween.

  “Well, Jacey, I can see you’re in a hurry. I’d like to ask you something before you go.”

  Her fingers tightened around her purse strap. Did he want to see her again—this year? Dating a corporate golden boy would put an end to her financial troubles, but no matter how desperately she needed the cash, she wasn’t about to spend her life depending on a man to support her. Her mother’s mistakes had taught her the consequences of that kind of idiocy.

  “I’m listening,” she answered.

  “You’re familiar with the summer catalog, of course. One of our models dropped out at the last minute and I’m wondering if you might be interested in the job. You’re absolutely beautiful, and you would be compensated…”

  He talked on, but his words slurred together as her mind began to spin. Could this day get any worse?

  She shouldn’t have told him her name. She hadn’t planned to, but last night had blown away her plan, not to mention the definition of passion as she knew it. Sex with Alex had been great every year—he’d never left her hungry for an orgasm, and sometimes he’d given her enough of them to last through the long months she spent without him. But in the hot tub when he’d asked her name, he had leveled her with a gaze so intense, it seemed to seal a connection between them that went beyond their established physical one. She’d been helpless to deny him an answer, and that was the moment she’d destroyed her plan to stay casual and opened the door to intimacy.

  If she were smart, she’d slam it shut. Because now that he knew her name, he’d want to know more. And the more he found out, the more he would try to give her—like this modeling job. Her experience in front of a camera went as far as the photo on her driver’s license. How in the world did she qualify to have her picture pasted all over Insomnia’s most widely distributed print ad?

  She didn’t. And unlike her mother, she wasn’t touching anything she hadn’t earned.

  “Stop.” She held up her hand. “Just stop.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  His concern tugged at the vulnerable corner of her heart. She considered curbing her sarcasm, but she had to put some distance back between them before she blew her cover. She didn’t want his money or his pity, two things he’d inevitably offer if he discovered the pathetic truth about her life.

  She stabbed her finger in the direction of the window. “When the Winter Olympics are held on South Beach, then I’ll be your model.”

  He paused, then quirked an eyebrow at her. “A ‘no’ would suffice.”

  He looked confused, even hurt, and she felt guilty for snapping at him. Of course he wouldn’t understand. A man as rich as Alex, with even richer parents, would have no idea how appalling it was to grow up with a mother who traded sex for grocery money and waited for handouts to buy everything else. It wasn’t his fault she had to override that legacy by accomplishing something that required a brain.

  But that didn’t take away the sting of his request.

  The shrill ring of a cell phone stabbed into her pounding head. She raised her hands to her ears.

  “Who would possibly be at the office today?” Alex mumbled. He crossed the room to take the call and indicated they would continue their conversation in a moment.

  Swallowing another pang of guilt, Jacey waited until his back was turned, then quickly left the room. Her throat closed up and her feet carried her down the hall, onto the elevator and through the ornate lobby. That last image of Alex lingered in her mind—his tousled dark hair, the muscles that defined his bare back and his hand cradling the phone. She wished she could touch his hand one more time, or at least say goodbye.

  But she couldn’t. She had royally screwed up when she’d fallen asleep last night. She had crossed the boundaries of their fast-and-furious sexual arrangement, not only risking her anonymity but giving him the opportunity to insult her with his modeling offer. On top of the fact that she didn’t want him handing her anything, she was a hypocrite. She’d insisted on keeping their relationship casual, yet she resented the possibility that he might not think of her
as anything more than a potential pretty face for the catalog.

  When she was locked inside her car with the engine humming, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel and gave in to one tear. Okay, two. But she swiftly wiped them away, then stepped on the gas and zigzagged through the parking lot before merging onto the highway. She was so tired. Her emotions would surely settle down as soon as she curled up in her own blankets, closed her eyes and forgot about this disaster of a morning.

  Ten minutes into her mad dash home, she noticed a flash of silver growing larger in her rearview mirror. She squinted and adjusted it. What in the world…?

  Abruptly, she changed lanes. The silver car followed her. Cursing her ridiculous heels, she pressed the gas pedal down and thanked heaven for the absence of traffic. The speedometer rose to eighty, then eighty-five. The other car had more power and rapidly caught up to her.

  She glanced at the mirror again.

  Alex?

  He was in the driver’s seat, flashing his headlights at her and jerking his thumb toward the side of the road like he wanted her to pull over. Like hell. First he’d tried to recruit her for a job with no basis for doing so, and now he was tailgating her like a crazed stalker. His record of sexual prowess and irresistible charm suddenly didn’t seem so flawless.

  A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that the right lane was clear. She launched her car to the opposite side of the highway, barely making it onto the exit ramp that would take her home.

  Her phone rang—surprising, since she hadn’t paid the bill and her service provider had threatened to disconnect it last week. With any luck, the police would be on the other end of the line.

  “Hello?”

  “Jacey, please stop the car.”

  “How did you get this number?”

  “I have access to any information you listed on your employee application.”

  “And I suppose you regularly use that information to your advantage.” He was still following her as she turned onto her street.

  “No, I don’t. I need to talk to you about the job. Reconsider my offer. I’ll give you anything you want in return.”

  That’s the problem, she wanted to scream. “Let me think about it for a minute. No. N-O.”

  “Jacey—”

  “Look, I’m not who you think I am, okay? There’s nothing glamorous about me. I’m a freaking salesgirl, Alex. I make minimum wage. Now get off my back. And my car.”

  Unwilling to lead him directly to her apartment, she hung up, parked in front of the main office and waited for him to leave.

  He brought his car to a stop just short of entering her apartment complex. When she looked out her window she could see him sitting there, watching her. Their eyes met. She shivered at the memory of the way those eyes had looked at her last night.

  This was the reason she never spent the night with Alex. When she woke up in her own bed, their rendezvous seemed like nothing more than an erotic dream. He was not supposed to be part of her next-day plummet back to reality. He wasn’t supposed to see that she rented an efficiency instead of owning a nice house, and she didn’t want him to know that she stocked inventory and worked a cash register every day instead of sitting at a desk, typing away on a computer and making important phone calls.

  But now he knew everything, and their four-time fantasy wouldn’t see a fifth.

  A strange feeling of sadness settled deep within her. She took one last moment to remember the scent of sweat that had lingered on his neck every time she’d buried her face there while he thrust inside her. She imagined the thrilling sensation of his warm, bare skin against hers. Then she met his eyes again and shook her head in a silent ending to whatever it was they had shared.

  He stared at her for a minute, his expression solemn, and then drove away. Jacey sighed as though releasing every last memory of him through her lips.

  Chapter Two

  “I want the sexiest women in this city in the ballroom at the Ritz-Carlton on Friday.”

  Alex walked slow circles around the long, narrow conference table. Insomnia’s corporate staff scribbled furious notes on their legal pads as he spoke, and even his father sat listening to his instructions. He held back a triumphant smile at the knowledge that soon, he’d wield this much power on a regular basis.

  The colossal project he was about to introduce would save the catalog, catapult the company into the public eye and prove his ability to handle anything the business might throw at him. How many people could design an entire modeling competition in half a day? For thirty-two years he’d been “William Vaughn’s boy”, but this media event would turn the tables. When he took the company reins, people would be saying his name. Preferably with a sir attached to the end.

  “Think Miss America meets American Idol,” he continued. “Except we won’t drag this out over several months—we’ll have our winner next month. Three weeks, thirty contestants. Ten women get cut after the first and second shows, then our finalists compete on the last day when the winner will be chosen.”

  Kim Starr stuck her pen in the air. “How do you suggest we handle the voting?”

  “The old-fashioned way. Ballots and a box. We’ll collect ballots from the audience after each show. The auditorium seats fifty-eight hundred, and that’s enough to decide which contestant will bring in the highest profit as our new model.”

  He scanned the table of nervous faces. “I realize we’re working on a tight schedule, but you’ve seen the crowds of gorgeous ladies out there on the beach who have no qualms about showing off their bodies. We’ll have no trouble finding our Sleepless Siren in time to shoot next summer’s catalog.”

  “Excellent work, Alex.” His father rose from the executive chair at the head of the table and glared at each employee in turn. “You’ve got four days to market the hell out of this competition. Make it happen.”

  Upon hearing those trademark words of dismissal, everyone but Alex rushed from the boardroom, undoubtedly back to Sunday dinners the emergency meeting had interrupted. He planned to dump after-hours conferences once he was in charge. Weekends existed for a reason, and if he ever had a family life he didn’t want it compromised. His dad’s excessive office hours had filled his parents’ relationship with bitter arguments and cold silence. Two years ago, his mother had finally left.

  His father’s powerful lawyer had made sure she didn’t take any part of Insomnia with her, even though they’d both founded the company. She’d spent years working night and day to help his dad turn Insomnia from a unique small business into a celebrity-frequented hot spot, only to walk away with a meager settlement. She swore that the stress reduction she’d experienced since being on her own satisfied her, but Alex wasn’t so easily appeased. Since he was a child he’d aspired to inherit the business, and that’s exactly what he planned to do—and then he would give back the holdings she deserved.

  William stuck his hands into his pockets and sauntered to the floor-to-ceiling window behind the conference table, watching the sun set on the Miami skyline. “This is our chance, Alex. If we pull this off, even Victoria’s numbers will look like small change compared to our sales.”

  He groaned inwardly at the determined tone in his father’s voice, not to mention the impossibility of his statement. Insomnia boasted plenty of designer merchandise and enjoyed wild popularity around town, but Miami was only one city. The company had never been in the same league as the industry bigwigs, but his father still insisted on competing with them. He wanted national recognition and would stop at nothing to get it—and the profits it promised.

  “I have to admit, son, I’m impressed. You might find yourself in charge of this place yet.”

  No kidding. Alex was counting on that.

  He’d made dozens of phone calls that afternoon, but of course every supermodel on the planet had already been booked. That discovery hadn’t disappointed him too much, because he didn’t believe any of their overexposed images would create the unique, breathtaking fantasy
that Jacey would as the focus of the catalog.

  There had to be another woman in the city blessed with that same exquisite beauty. This competition would not only find her, it would get Insomnia’s name all over the state and maybe beyond before simply hiring a model ever would.

  “Make it soon, Dad. You’ve already ignored your doctor’s orders for three months.”

  His father cleared his throat and then turned his back on him. “That isn’t your concern. Now go, I have work to do.”

  Alex shook his head, leaving the office and closing the door behind him. Actually, it was his concern. His dad had been diagnosed with heart problems due to stress, and his doctor as well as the Board had recommended that he step down. But the man was stubborn, and Alex often suspected he valued his company more than his own life. He didn’t seem to care if his health suffered, he’d let his marriage go to hell, and Alex would be damned if the two of them had ever played catch in the backyard or had a couple of beers together at the end of a long day.

  He headed down the hallway toward his own office, trying to remember if he’d thrown a bottle of Tylenol in his briefcase before he had left his condo. His issues with his dad weren’t helping his head, which felt like someone had been playing drums on it since Jacey had run from the hotel early that morning.

  It pained him that she’d turned down the modeling job. He couldn’t understand the ice that had hardened in her eyes when he’d mentioned it. Most women who could boast that kind of striking beauty started knocking down the doors of modeling agencies as preteens. But Jacey was unique, and judging from the dismissive look she’d given him from her car, he wouldn’t have a chance to know her beyond the handful of mind-blowing encounters that had already taken place.