Impulse Control (Entangled Indulgence) (Men of the Zodiac) Read online

  He swallowed the sickening shards in his throat. “And after I took the camera down?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Thank God for small mercies.”

  “You honestly didn’t know?” To his credit, Stan looked as appalled as Russ felt. “Since you disabled the camera, I figured…”

  Russ shook his head, glad Stan was flying down with him to take pictures for the website or he might not have found out about this in time to do damage control. “And I know damn well Susannah didn’t, either. There’s going to be hell to pay. You better show me what’s out there.”

  As soon as the plane landed, he called Susannah, but he wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer. Sharp waves of need pulsed through him at the sound of her recorded voice.

  Keeping his mind off last night had been a losing battle. Her low cries rang in his ears. He could taste her surrender, smell the scent of apples and woodsmoke, and feel her soft skin under his hands. Susannah wasn’t his kind of woman, and he wasn’t her kind of man…but damn, last night had been hot. He forced his thoughts back to their problem.

  Now he was glad he’d gotten her number, even though he’d regretted the impulsive request as soon as he’d seen the wary look in her eyes. He knew exactly where he fit in Susie’s world. One night, no more. She’d been very clear about wanting stability in her life, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop wondering what it would have been like to make love to her. Touching her with his mouth and fingers had been almost as intimate as sex, but he wanted inside. He wanted to show her the rest of the road…but it wasn’t going to happen.

  I’d rather hike through hell than have you see me naked had been blasted across every social media site, and if Susannah had seen or heard any of the clips from their weekend, she was probably devising ways to kill him. The entire focus of the show had shifted to their personal relationship and, like it or not, the TV world thought they were an item. This was exactly what he’d feared when he told Bergman he didn’t want his image tied to Susie Homemaker, but the photos and sound bites made them look like a hot couple.

  Maybe this wasn’t the worst thing for either of them. Would Susannah be up for making lemonade from their lemons? Only one way to find out.

  Russ logged on to his web page and updated his status. Missing my Wild Woman already. He added an image of a tiger and tagged her. She might be able to ignore his calls, but she wouldn’t be able to hide from a public challenge. Or several. He laughed softly to himself as he began scheduling posts.

  Chapter Seven

  Her Internet and social media search had to wait until after Billy was sleeping and Holly had dragged every last moment of the camping trip out of her. Susannah spared her nothing. It had been hard to get the words past her lips and her cheeks were blazing, but the jealous expression on Holly’s face was worth the embarrassment of a few graphic details.

  “Describe his tattoo again,” Holly begged.

  Susannah snorted and reached for her laptop. She stared at the blinking cursor, wondering what keywords would give her information linking Russ and her in the media. She went with their names. The first thing to pop up was a link to Russ’s web page. She clicked.

  She’s not answering my calls, people. Got any advice for the Wild Man?

  Her heart thumped and then sped. She scrolled down to his first status update tonight. Missing her? She didn’t believe it for a minute. As his half-dozen posts proved, he was having too much fun mocking her. She browsed back and clicked on the images link. Oh my God.

  Pictures of them in the snow, probably from where she’d pulled him down, looked cozy and suggestive. Shots of them with their arms wrapped around each other, when she’d nearly keeled over from exhaustion, looked like something entirely different. And the shot of them on top of the mountain showed every bit of longing she’d felt. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her face, feeling sick.

  Holly squeezed her shoulder. “I’m going downstairs for reinforcements.”

  She reached for her phone as Holly left the bedroom and called up her voicemail, flinching when she heard his voice. Hi, Susannah. It’s Russ. Call me. We’ve got developments.

  According to the time stamp on the call and his first status update, he’d given her all of five minutes to call him back before he’d decided how to handle the developments himself. “What an ass.”

  Holly swept into the room. “I have no doubt. A firm, hard, bounce-a-quarter-right-in-your-eye ass. You should have taken some pictures of your own.” She handed Susannah a cup of tea.

  “I was sure you were going downstairs for shot glasses.”

  “Nope, we need a clear head for this, and tea is the extent of my abilities.”

  Susannah’s phone rang in her hand. She glanced at it and cringed. “It’s Ethan.”

  Holly took the phone out of her hand and chucked it onto the bed. “One problem at a time.” She took over the laptop while Susannah sipped tea. “You need a strategy.”

  “I have a strategy. Humiliate him on my show. I think he needs to learn how to de-lime toilets, change a cloth diaper, get dinner on the table, hot, all at the same time for a crowd of vegetarian celiacs…”

  “That sounds great, but in the meantime, you need to respond to him online.”

  “I’ll talk to my publicist tomorrow.”

  “Forgive my bragging, but I don’t think your publicist is a better flirt than I am.”

  “I’m not flirting with him!”

  “Why not? It’s already gone viral. Add some of your own fuel to the fire.”

  “But I don’t want to add fuel to the fire. I just want to do my show, take care of Billy, and live my life. I never wanted to do this show in the first place.”

  “But you did, and now things have changed, whether you like it or not. Don’t you want to make him suffer even a little bit? It sounds like you guys got pretty close in a short period of time. I get that it wasn’t anything serious for him, but this makes it look like he went into the woods to get another notch on his tent pole.”

  Susannah kept her eyes on the screen, lost in the memory of how hard Russ had been in her hand, of him telling her she drove him crazy and then proving it. It had been the sexiest thing that had ever happened to her, and there was no way she would discuss it in a public forum. Some things were meant to be private.

  Holly typed in another search. There’s nothing sexier than a woman who can’t resist a dare leaped off the page. Susannah’s heart turned inside out and then shrank to the size of a dried cranberry. She could barely breathe.

  Oh no…no, no, no. This isn’t happening. He wouldn’t…he couldn’t…he had.

  She closed her eyes and held very still as if she could hide from the information in the ether, already out in the world, changing peoples’ opinions of her.

  “Susannah? Are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “The tent camera. He must have given it to the crew after all.” She pointed at the screen. “He said that to me the morning we woke up together. Other things, too. What if—”

  Holly reached over her and tapped the link. An image of their tent popped up on the screen, and Russ’s voice slid across her skin like a slow caress. There is nothing sexier than a woman who can’t say no to a dare. I’ve got your number now—you don’t like to lose any more than I do…I dare you to hold still. Her nipples tightened and tingled.

  “Jesus Christ. That’s so hot.” Holly stared at her for a second and then hit replay.

  Susannah shook herself out of her daze and killed the volume. “Stop it.”

  “I had an intellectual understanding of what happened in that tent, but that little clip brought it to a whole new level. I think my panties just dissolved.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Like yours didn’t. Oh wait—they did.” Holly grinned.

  Susannah rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe he handed over the tent camera. I actually believed…I thought…I mean I knew he was just being nice, but I never thought he�
�d humiliate me like this—”

  “Hold it right there. I guarantee he was not just being nice. He may have had other motives, but you are a beautiful woman. He wanted you. Be angry. Feel betrayed. Get even for the damage to your cast-iron flannel nightgown image, but don’t forget the upside: one of the sexiest men alive wanted to see you naked. Call your people and do what you can to limit the professional carnage, but don’t you dare use it as an excuse to feel bad about yourself. And I still think you should flirt back.”

  “My brand is not flirty tent vixen. It’s everywoman mom.”

  “And I bet every mom on the planet would kill for a weekend in a tent with the Wild Man. Take that angle. Didn’t Media Life want a wrap-up blog post? Choose a different battlefield. Maybe you can’t play his flirting game with any degree of authenticity, but you can launch countermeasures. Speak to your audience the way he’s speaking to his.”

  Susannah lifted her head. “I’m too mortified. Those pictures make it look like I threw myself at him.”

  Holly cocked her head to the side. “So what? Who wouldn’t? Can you stand by everything that happened? Are you ashamed of yourself or just embarrassed?”

  With a sense of amazement, she realized she felt pretty good. “Just embarrassed,” she said slowly. “Some things aren’t meant to be shared with the world.”

  Holly nodded. “I agree. Take that bad boy to school, hot mama.”

  Susannah was surprised to feel a laugh bubble up inside her. “Maybe I will. But first I need to get some sleep.”

  Holly gave her a hug. “Sweet dreams.”

  Since knowledge was power, she curled up on the bed with her laptop and searched for more footage. She groaned when she came across her own voice. I’d rather hike through hell than have you see me naked. She set the laptop on the bed and fell back against the pillows. Misery blanketed her, heavy and suffocating, so thick she wondered if she could ever shake it off and get out of bed.

  Her words rang in her ears. Everyone would know what happened in the tent, because Russ Donovan couldn’t resist a challenge. She searched her memory for the timeline of events. He’d taken the camera down after the first night, and it seemed like all the sound recordings online had happened before then. She forced herself to replay every moment of their morning in the tent in all its damning glory, and finally thought of something that might give her the edge in this new challenge.

  She’d said no and left the tent. Maybe this could be salvaged after all.

  Her phone beeped, signaling a text. She glanced at the screen and recognized the same number as before.

  I didn’t know it was streaming sound and video, I swear. Please call me.

  She stared at the words. Her heart pounded hot blood through her veins. To believe or not to believe? He’d seemed awfully chummy with the cameramen and knowledgeable about technical details, too. She wanted to believe him, but it had certainly seemed like Stan was explaining the functions of the tent camera while she was in the bathroom getting dressed. Russ had looked thrilled.

  As much as she wanted to hope what happened between them was more than entertainment to him, she had to face the truth. He’d played her from the moment she’d arrived in the woods, and there was no reason to think this wasn’t part of his game. She took a deep breath and typed slowly.

  I don’t want to talk to you.

  Her phone rang. She silenced it and waited to see if he’d leave a voicemail. When nothing appeared on the screen, she stared at the ceiling. He was still playing her: posting flirty status updates while claiming ignorance privately. She didn’t roll that way. Although maintaining her image required a certain amount of acting, she tried to be as authentic as possible. During the divorce, she’d lain low, not wanting to pretend everything was fine, even though disappearing from the media eye had temporarily hurt her ratings.

  Her cell screen flashed and caught her eye.

  If you won’t talk to me, we’ll have to deal with this in public. Ignoring it won’t work. Trust me.

  She snorted and texted back.

  Trust you? I’ve heard that before and look what happened.

  You loved it. ;-)

  Every inch of her skin tingled. Arousal stole through her breasts, belly, and thighs, making her shift on the bed. She’d spent two nights in his arms. Only two nights. How was it possible that her body now craved his touch? She imagined him pressed behind her, sensed his arm around her ribs, hand cupping her breast, fingers caressing her nipple. His breath ghosted across her neck, and she felt his lips and tongue leaving soft, cool trails on her body.

  It was a mistake. She hit send.

  Want to do it again?

  She couldn’t believe her eyes. Are you kidding me?

  I’m stuck in DC this week, but I’ll be in New York on Sunday. Dinner?

  We agreed on one night.

  That was before the TV world thought we were dating. Might as well keep up appearances. Make some lemonade with me.

  The thought of having dinner with him sent a flare of heat through her. Can’t. Expecting a call from a nice, non-kissing-and-telling banker.

  Seriously? Fast work, Susie. Although I think I should get some credit. I told you I was good. I’m even better at other things if you want some more practice.

  No thanks. I’m going to bed.

  Tease. ;-)

  She put her phone on the bedside table and walked down the hall to check on Billy. Snug as a bug. She returned to her room, turned off the light, and buried herself under the covers. Heat rolled up and down her body in shimmering waves. There was no way she was going to fall asleep like this, but if she did anything about her arousal, she knew she’d think of him. Did she really want to relive the memories again? Yes.

  No. She did not.

  She forced herself to remember the low points of the trip, like how cold she’d been. But then she remembered how he’d warmed her up. She thought of the physical exertion that had built up painful lactic acid in her muscles, but that just made her recall how he’d massaged her legs. And then she traced her tender upper lip. She cupped her breast, remembering his hands on her. Her hand drifted lower, between her legs, where she felt…different. Aware. Aching. Alone…in a very big bed…while fantasizing about a cramped sleeping bag.

  She gave up trying to sleep and turned on the light. Since she was going to be exhausted tomorrow anyway, she might as well write while the experience was fresh. She reached for her laptop.

  Chapter Eight

  Russ woke in his hotel room exactly as he’d fallen asleep, hard as a rock and thinking of Susannah. He grabbed his phone. Anticipation zinged through him when he saw a text from her. He clicked the link and grinned in triumph. He knew she’d have to respond to his media pokes. One Wild Weekend…

  He started reading, immediately drawn in by her conversational writing style. He could almost hear her warm laugh in his mind and imagine her bright smile. Good God, he could almost smell coffee brewing and breakfast cooking, and he’d only read the first paragraph.

  I spent the week before the trip watching Russ’s show. I knew who he was, of course, but I’d spent the last few years trying to get a marriage off the ground and raising a baby. You all probably know by now what happened to the marriage. (Thank goodness the baby is still amazing.) Anyway, I haven’t watched much TV lately, and after my In the Wild marathon, I was terrified. What did he have in store for me?

  A mountain, as it turned out. On snowshoes. At fifteen degrees. I wanted to crawl into a snowbank, make a hole, and hide. I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep in fourteen months. I’m a single mother with a full-time job. I don’t work out because I’m scared I’ll fall asleep on the treadmill and get rolled underneath. And Russ Donovan challenged me to climb a mountain.

  And I did.

  It may have only been a New York mountain, small in the scope of the world, but it was big to me, and I feel transformed. If I can climb a mountain, what else can I do? What an amazing feeling!

  I�
��m grateful for the gifts this wild weekend brought me, even though I was cold, tired, eating canned soup, and expecting to find spiders in the outhouse. Transformation doesn’t come without effort and suffering, I suppose. At least, that’s what I’m going to tell the Wild Man when it’s time to film At Home in my kitchen next month. :-) I hope he’s ready to put on an apron!

  He couldn’t resist. He reached for his phone and shot her a text.

  I promise to be prepared for whatever you have in mind.

  He waited. Bubbles appeared, telling him she was typing. They vanished and then popped up again. His anticipation grew and then burst when the bubbles disappeared and stayed gone, making him acutely aware of how much he’d been looking forward to her response. Not good.

  What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t pursue Susannah. Despite what had happened over the weekend, she wasn’t the fling type, and he’d vowed never to leave anyone waiting for him back home. It wasn’t fair to have a relationship when he took so many risks. He knew firsthand how much it hurt to lose a loved one. Bitter loss burned in his gut. He was heading into a whole week filled with reminders.

  Susannah’s blog post had neatly shifted the focus from the scandalous sound bites to the heart of the show. If he’d been smart, he would have done the same thing with his status updates last night, but he’d been thinking about what had happened in the tent and wanting to do it again.

  His cock throbbed at the memory of her soft curves under his hands. The chemistry between them was unbelievable. Her sweet responsiveness was like a gateway drug; one taste made him crave more intense pleasures with her. She had no idea what her body could do, but he did. He wanted to take her to the next level and show her just how good it could get. But he wasn’t whom she needed, and eventually she’d expect more from him than he could give. Flirting publicly had been a mistake, and asking her to dinner had been idiotic.

  It would be cruel to lead her on.

  She has a date with a banker, dumbass. She’s already moved on. His mind went still, and his muscles locked. Something primitive rose to the surface, pure instinct devoid of reason.