Falling Read online

  And she was so goddamned tired of it now, she wanted to spit.

  Instead, Jen shut off the phone in mid-message. Right now, right here, in this hotel room tucked away from everything familiar, she could let it go. There was space here for her to think her own thoughts. Be her own person. Explore the Jen side of life, not the David side.

  With a smile on her face, she snuggled down under the covers, letting sleep overtake her. The smile deepened as her last conscious thoughts included a pair of delightful dark eyes and a mouth that encouraged dreadfully decadent dreams…

  Chapter 3

  The Palm Grotto lived up to its name.

  Lush foliage blanketed the austere walls, dappled now with morning sunlight. Their green fronds tickled the ceiling, shading the tables beneath. Flowers, breathtakingly beautiful flowers in every color of the rainbow, were all over the place, nearly blinding her with the riot of hues. The hibiscus fairy had apparently spent several nights here, gotten raving drunk, and thrown up.

  There were few customers, a couple of bored waiters, and a maître d' who was apparently awaiting Jen's arrival.

  "Good morning, Ma'am. You are Ms. Hodges, yes?" His dark eyes smiled at her, the slight Spanish accent adding to Jen's impression of having wandered into a different world this morning.

  "Yes, I am."

  "Good. This way please. Mr. Cris has arranged everything."

  Ah. Mr. Cris of the beautiful eyes and even more beautiful body. Jen mentally smacked herself soundly as she followed the maitre d', struggling to maintain her cool, calm and collected businesswoman persona.

  One look at the man rising from a corner table to greet her and the cool, calm, collected businesswoman took a day off.

  He was even better looking in daylight, although how such a thing could be possible, Jen had simply no idea. The man should be declared illegal. His shirt was a blinding assemblage of flowers that would have sent that hibiscus fairy into paroxysms of pleasure, and his crisp white pants were spotless. His inky dark eyes revealed warm brown depths in the light of day, his chest -- the little bit she could see beyond the flora that surrounded it -- was definitely in the "five star" category, and there was simply no question about it.

  He was flat-out gorgeous.

  A dream come true. A figure that could grace the cover of a novel and sell ten million copies on the strength of that smile alone. A man who…was saying something.

  Jen blinked as she tried to drag her thoughts up off the mental carpet where they had swooned and were clutching their hearts.

  "I'm glad you decided to join me." His voice was as sexy as the rest of him. Her thoughts thudded back to the floor, fainting with pleasure once again.

  "So am I." The words came out on a gust of honesty.

  She allowed him to seat her as she realized exactly how honest she'd been. She was glad. Very glad. Her heart rate had been close to the danger level since she'd woken up that morning, and it didn't show signs of slowing anytime soon.

  Especially when that deliciously appealing smile curved his mouth. "What would you like?"

  I'll take you with a side order of you, and more of you to go, please. Oh-and coffee.

  "Uh, I'd kill for coffee." Jen smiled as she self-edited her thoughts.

  "No problem." Cris reached beside him and poured her a cup of steaming black liquid heaven. "Cream? Sugar?"

  Me? Cris fought to keep his hand steady as he passed the cup across the table to the lovely Ms. Jennifer Hodges.

  She'd stayed lurking in his subconscious all night, her silky blonde hair teasing his brain cells into distraction, her humor and that laugh…

  And here she was, in the flesh, looking every bit as delightful as he'd remembered. Even better, in fact, which was a rarity in itself. Most women didn't benefit from the harsh morning glare of the Florida sun. This one did. It brought a sparkle to her blue eyes, a blush to her cheeks, and seeing her in shorts and a tank top-well, fuck.

  Cris licked his lips to ensure himself he wasn't drooling.

  "So tell me, Cris, besides efficiently disposing of crawly things and comping breakfasts to guests, what do you do here as concierge?"

  Aha. The efficient-business-traveler shield was dropping over her face. But she couldn't hide the little tremble in her hand as she sipped her coffee. He smiled happily. Got you. "It's a fancy title for the guy who handles just about everything, but doesn't actually get paid as much for it as he should."

  She laughed, that rich deep gurgle that had so charmed him on the phone. "I'm sure that's true. You should've earned combat pay for last night's little fracas."

  He shook his head. "That was small potatoes. Try explaining to a determined mother that the snake her son has trapped in a jar is actually a coral snake, quite dangerous, and shouldn't be taken back to Fargo as a pet."

  "Good lord. Really?" Jen's eyebrows rose.

  "Really."

  "What did you do?"

  Cris helped himself to coffee and nodded his thanks as a waiter placed a tray of pastries and croissants on the table between them. "Fortunately, I didn't have to do much. The snake did it, all by itself."

  Jen's hand froze over a roll. "It bit the kid?"

  "No, it died. Or committed suicide rather than live in Fargo, North Dakota. Never could decide which."

  "Oh dear…" Jen burst out laughing again. "How sad." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh at the death of a poor creature, but-oh lord."

  "Save your sympathies. There's enough left that they're not on the endangered species list."

  "Well, that's good. I promise last night's episode was the only creepy-crawly adventure you can expect from me. No snakes." She shuddered. "Definitely no snakes."

  "You don't need to worry. We're pretty efficient at keeping them away from the hotel grounds. They're not music fans, aren't social at all, and it's a mutual arrangement of benefit to both. They go away and we don't have to kill 'em." He tore a croissant in half. "Why are you here?"

  "Hmpf?" She was mid-way through a mouthful of roll when he'd casually tossed the question out, hoping to catch her off-guard.

  "Why are you here? I'm just curious. It's August, not the most popular tourist season, as you can tell." He glanced around the almost empty restaurant. "You're blonde and probably burn to a crisp, so you're not here for a tan."

  It would be a sin to burn that creamy skin of yours.

  Time to move in to more personal questions. God, he was pushing this woman. Why, he didn't know. But five seconds after hearing that laugh…there was something there. Something he was getting desperate to explore.

  "That could be an engagement ring." His gaze fell to the pretty diamond on her left hand. "And yet you are alone."

  "And you're very observant." She wiped her mouth on a napkin, hiding her gaze from him.

  He shrugged. "It's my job to notice these things. Another croissant?"

  "Oh gosh, no. Thanks. This was just fine. I don't usually do breakfast, so it's been a rare treat. Most often there's not time for more than coffee. You know, traffic…all that stuff…"

  She was rambling, and she knew it. He could tell by the way her eyes looked everywhere but at him.

  "You should eat breakfast. Most important meal of the day. So why are you here?"

  She snorted. "This from a man who had one and a half croissants and two cups of coffee?"

  She had been paying attention. Good. He said nothing, simply waited and sipped his coffee patiently.

  "I don't know." Finally, blue eyes met brown. "I truly don't know."

  *~*~*~*

  Jen stretched languorously on the chaise lounge. Cris had taken her to the pool, settled her into a shaded spot, and left her, pleading the press of the day's work. He hadn't followed up her non-answer with anything more than an enigmatic smile and a slight nod.

  Whatever the hell that meant.

  She tried to push those thoughts-all thoughts of Cris-aside, and focus on what was really important. That question, and her answer
.

  Why was she here?

  The air rested humidly on her skin and she shifted, easing her bathing suit around her hips. Five minutes after settling down, she knew shorts weren't going to cut it in this heat. A quick trip back to her room, a tug, a pull and a shimmy later, and she was in her swimsuit. Conservative, navy blue with white flowers, and totally not revealing anything she didn't want revealed. A bit higher cut on the legs than she'd been happy with, but now she was rather glad of it.

  Resting beside her in a neat pile were the obligatory traveler's accessories. Suntan lotion, glasses, a visor, and a romance novel. They'd sat there for the last hour, untouched, while Jen let herself slip back into a habit she'd formed during her early teens. She was engaging in a silent inner dialogue with herself.

  So why are you here?

  For some R and R? An escape from the rat-race?

  Liar.

  Okay. So I'm here to take a long look at my life. Better?

  No. Be honest. It's not your whole life you're looking at, it's your relationship you're looking at. Or trying not to look at.

  Yes.

  Jen let the soft air soothe her. The pool was empty, the surrounding garden quiet but for the squawks of large birds holding some kind of avian convention in a nearby palm tree.

  The filters hissed beneath the waters of the pool, a plane droned in the distance-it was tranquility and peace. A good time to let it all out.

  Her relationship. Did she love David?

  She didn't know. The answer came back promptly, surprising Jen a little. She'd always thought she loved David. And no, she couldn't imagine her life without him.

  So you're not going to leave him?

  No. No, of course not.

  There's no "of course" about it. You think you love him and you're not going to leave him, but you're here stretched out on a chaise lounge in the hopes that Mr. Sex-on-a-stick is gonna come back soon.

  Yes.

  Why?

  Because…because…I've lost me. I need to find me.

  "Can I help?"

  Chapter 4

  The voice shook Jen to her core. She'd been so lost in her inner conversation that she hadn't heard Cris at all.

  And yet there he was. He'd changed into shorts and a loose tank top, making Jen sweat even more than the Florida heat.

  "Help what?" Her mental chat companion was sitting with its jaw on the floor, huffing and panting with a serious case of the hots.

  "You said you'd lost yourself. That you needed to find yourself."

  "I said that out loud?"

  "Yep."

  "The heat is getting to me, isn't it?" Jen sat up. "Do many of your guests turn into blithering idiots after a couple of hours in the sun?"

  "A few. Most arrive as blithering idiots, so a lot of the time it's hard to tell." He leaned down and touched a fingertip to her temple. "You're sweating. Come on. The sun's getting too hot for you. Sane people head indoors right about now."

  Jen desperately wanted to point out that it wasn't the sun making her sweat, but held her tongue, simply gathering her things and standing up. "Where are we going?"

  "You said you wanted to find yourself. It's my experience that the first thing to do is to clear away the forest so you can see the trees."

  "Huh?"

  He smiled. "The spa. A massage. Let's get rid of those knots in your shoulders, and let the blood reach your brain so you can think."

  "Oh." Jen blinked. "I suppose that does sound good."

  "No 'suppose' about it. It is good. I happen to know the best massage therapist in town. And he works right here in our spa."

  "Oh really?" Jen walked beside him, her head barely topping his shoulder. She was so aware of him on so many levels, it was astonishing. "Who's that?"

  "Me."

  *~*~*~*

  Cris pushed open the door to the silent spa facility and blessed the air conditioned blast that poured over them. He needed something to cool him down or his cock was going to embarrass the shit out of him by thrusting out into the light of day from beneath his shorts.

  There was something about this woman that got to him like no other woman had in a long time. Sure, she was attractive. Sure, she was sexy, and apparently unaware of it. But there was something else. Something deeper inside her, like a hard knot of pain perhaps, that he yearned to ease.

  And if he had to go in through her pussy to do it, so much the better.

  He turned away towards one of the small massage rooms. "In here, Ms. Hodges."

  She followed him. "You should probably call me Jen if you're going to turn me into a relaxed lump of sated muscle tissue."

  Cris's eyes nearly crossed. "That's short for Jennifer?"

  She was looking around the room. "Yep."

  "Jennifer suits you better."

  She glanced at him. "It does?"

  Cris reached for one of the neatly folded toweling wraps. "Yes. Jen is something a little girl is called on the playground. Jennifer is for a woman. Here, put this on, please."

  She swallowed. "Ah. Nice technique. Stroke the ego before massaging the kinks out, huh?"

  He smiled, not trusting himself to respond.

  Jen disappeared into the little changing cubicle. "So how did you get to be a masseur as well as a concierge?" Her voice came through the slats on the closed door.

  "Simple story, really." Cris tried hard to keep his mind on the task before him, not the woman behind him slipping out of her bathing suit. "I took a couple of semesters of sports therapy in college. Had to satisfy a science requirement and I hated science."

  There it was again. That laugh that rocked his balls. Cris gritted his teeth and nearly dropped a bottle of oil. "Anyway, the massage teacher was very good, and I liked it. Not enough to pick it up as a career, but the basics stuck with me."

  The door opened, the vision it revealed nearly taking his breath away. Jen had tucked her hair up into an untidy knot, letting small fronds dangle around her face.

  The rest of her was barely covered by the white toweling wrap that fastened with Velcro just above her breasts. Dear God, she had great legs too. They'd looked just fine in a bathing suit, but now-with just the towel brushing their tops…

  Cris heaved in a shuddering breath. "Uh, what was I saying?"

  She laughed. "Cut it out. I'm sure it's nothing you haven't seen before." She settled herself onto the long raised table. "Face down?"

  Any way you want, querida. Any way at all.

  "Yes please."

  Her contortions with towel and body brought Cris rapidly to a state of full and painful arousal. She was modest, polite, and ready to be massaged. And he was hard enough to nail her to the table. In spite of the air-conditioning, he broke out in a sweat.

  Grabbing hold of his urges and hanging on with both hands, he reached for the oil. "I think we'll start with the shoulders. That's where a lot of everyday tension settles. And perhaps it's a good place to begin our search."

  She turned her head more comfortably on the pillow. "Our search?"

  "For you."

  *~*~*~*

  He would never know the courage it had taken for Jen to calmly walk out of that cubicle and face him wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. Nor would he have a clue about the nerves that shuddered deep in her belly when she looked at the expression on his face.

  He likes what he sees. He finds me attractive.

  He probably had noticed the fact that she'd jumped what felt like a foot off the table when he'd put his hands on her.

  "Relax."

  Easy for you to say, big boy. "I'm trying. I've never had a massage before. This is all new to me." And I ain't just talking about the massage, either.

  "You don't have to do a thing. Just lie there. Let me do the work. You can simply think-talk-whatever you want."

  Jen closed her eyes and surrendered to his hands. Gentle, deep kneading around the base of her neck and her shoulders immediately brought a sigh of pleasure. "Oh God, Cris…that feels good."
The lightest touch of lavender swirled in the air, and she sniffed appreciatively.

  "You are very tight here, Jennifer. Your worries, your tension…it's all knotted up in your spine."

  There's something else that's knotting up too. But you can't quite see it from there.

  "It is? I mean, they are?"

  "What troubles you, querida?"

  The endearment fell so naturally between them, Jen scarcely realized what he'd said. She was comfortable with this man, which was surprising, since he was also turning her on like a volcano. And the lava was about to erupt in a serious pyroclastic flow between her thighs.

  "I'm afraid, Cris." Jen blinked. Why had she said that?

  "Of what?" His hands kept moving on her back, a little lower now, unlocking new places between her shoulder blades. Christ above. This wasn't massage to her, it was goddamned foreplay!

  "Of-of-I don't know."

  "Yes you do. Afraid of what? Tell me." Cris paused for a moment then returned, palms slick with something smooth.

  Fuck. This was unbelievably wonderful. Jen felt her body ease beneath his touch. And her mind loosened too. "I'm afraid…" She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I'm afraid I'm not me anymore. That the me I am isn't the me I could be." She lifted her head a little. "Does that make any sense at all?"

  He gently pushed her head back down onto the pillow. "Yes. Go on."

  "I have a good man in my life. We've been together going on four years, shared an apartment for the last two. We started talking about marriage. We both have our careers, a settled life, but somewhere along the line…"

  "Along the line?" Cris's hands never stopped moving on her body, stroking, soothing, then pressing hard, finding new and interesting places to massage, a few of them almost painfully deep, but satisfyingly relaxed as he worked his magic.

  What the fuck had she been saying? For a moment her thoughts had deviated into a variety of places they really shouldn't go.

  "Uh…yes, um…somewhere along the line, things changed."

  "What things?" He loosened the Velcro fastener beneath her arm and exposed the length of her spine. She felt the cool air against her back, although he'd left her buttocks covered with the courtesy sheet. Thank God he had. They probably would have blushed like hell if he'd simply tugged the whole damn towel away.