The Prince Brothers: Satisfaction Guaranteed!. Кэрол Мортимер

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      ‘Having received one set of royalties already, I do have all that information,’ she cut in.

      ‘Then you must also realize that the majority of the people who have read the book believe that J. I. Watson is a man—’

      ‘As you did,’ she pointed out.

      ‘As I did,’ he agreed. ‘The book is about a twelve-year-old boy confined to a wheelchair who suddenly discovers he has super mental abilities—’

      ‘I know what the book’s about, thank you! But you think me incapable of imagining being a twelve-year-old boy?’ she challenged, her unease increasing if that should prove to be the case.

      That silver gaze swept over her with slow deliberation, lingering on the curve of her breasts in the cream silk blouse, before moving down the slender length of her legs in fitted black trousers.

      Again, it was almost as if he touched her, as if those big, capable hands had actually caressed her, leaving heat wherever they touched.

      ‘I think,’ he finally said huskily, ‘that you might have trouble imagining being a boy of any age!’

      Her heart gave a leap at the warmth she could see in his eyes, the complete awareness of her treacherous body making her answer him sharply. ‘How typically sexist of you, Mr Prince!’

      He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Not at all, Jinx.’ It seemed he deliberately used her nickname, the name only close friends used. ‘Merely stating it as I see it.’

      ‘Well, it would appear that you see it wrong, wouldn’t it?’ she taunted.

      He looked at her with narrowed eyes now. ‘It would appear so…’ he slowly echoed her words.

      Too much, Jinx, she reprimanded herself, she had said far too much; she wanted this man completely out of her life and that of No Ordinary Boy, not to make him all the more curious about its author!

      She shook her head. ‘I simply don’t believe that the book would transfer to the big screen.’

      He looked derisive now. ‘You don’t?’

      Her cheeks flushed angrily at what she sensed was his amusement at her lack of faith in his ability as a film director. Oh, she knew all about this man’s successes, the awards, the Oscars—just as she knew that No Ordinary Boy was so personal to her that she couldn’t allow a third party to rip it apart in order to make a ‘marketable’ film.

      ‘No, I don’t,’ she snapped.

      ‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of what does and doesn’t transfer to the big screen?’

      He was laughing at her, damn him. When she found little or nothing about this situation in the least amusing. ‘My answer is no, Mr Prince,’ she told him with finality, bending to pick up her bag from the carpeted floor. ‘It will remain no.’

      She was leaving!

      This tiny slip of a woman, with ice in her eyes and fire in her hair, was walking out on him!

      That definitely had to be a first…

      He had thought at the weekend, once he had established that Juliet India Nixon was more probably the author of No Ordinary Boy than her father, that he finally had her at a disadvantage, that it would simply be a case of meeting with her today to tie up the loose ends regarding the movie rights. But Jinx Nixon was anything but amenable, was just as determined as she ever had been to thwart him.

      ‘Just what is it with you, Jinx?’ he challenged as she stood up. ‘Could it be that it’s beneath the highbrow Dr Juliet Nixon to be associated with a work of fiction like No Ordinary Boy?’

      If he had thought her eyes cold before, they now turned to fire, her beautiful face flushed with the same anger as she flicked that blazing red hair back over one slender shoulder to glare down at him.

      Nik had hoped to evoke some sort of response by his challenge—he just hadn’t been quite prepared for the one he got.

      This woman was so beautiful when roused, so vibrantly alive, that he immediately saw her aroused in a completely different way, the image of her lying naked and wanton in his arms causing him to shift uncomfortably as his body responded to that image.

      It was totally amazing; he hadn’t physically responded like this just at the thought of a woman in his bed since his college days, but ten minutes in Jinx Nixon’s company and he was doing exactly that.

      Something, given the circumstances, he stood about as much chance of achieving where Jinx was concerned as flying to the moon!

      He grimaced. ‘I apologize for that remark.’ He sighed, shaking his head. ‘I just don’t understand you.’ Something else that hadn’t happened in a long time.

      Perhaps he had become jaded over the years, too accustomed to women wanting something from him, from the power he wielded as head of PrinceMovies, but nothing he said or did seemed to make any difference whatsoever to Jinx’s resolve not to have anything to do with him or his movie company. By itself that was enough to frustrate the hell out of him, but taking his personal—physical!—response to this woman into account, it only made the situation more explosive.

      Jinx seemed to be confused herself now, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do next, either.

      Nik knew exactly what she wanted to do—tell him goodbye and walk out of here!—but he could also see by the perplexed frown of indecision on her creamy brow that something was holding her back from doing that.

      What could it be?

      What was this woman still hiding from him?

      God, he was arrogant, wasn’t he? Nik recognized with self-disgust. There must be any number of things this woman wasn’t telling him. Probably not just him either; Jinx Nixon came over as a very private person, indeed. In fact, he had a feeling Jinx was the sort of woman it could take a lifetime to get to know.

      Hell! It was dangerous to even think about the words ‘Jinx’ and ‘lifetime’ in the same sentence. It wasn’t that he was particularly anti-commitment; after all, his parents had been happily married right up until the day his father had died, and his sister Stazy was certainly happy in her marriage; it just wasn’t an option Nik had ever considered for himself.

      So why was he considering it now?

      He wasn’t, came the blunt answer. Not seriously. Damn it, he barely knew Jinx Nixon, and the little he did know, that she was stubborn, sassy and highly intellectual, totally nullified the fact that she was so incredibly beautiful.

      Nevertheless, Nik still had a feeling, for his own selfpreservation, that the idea of seduction was no longer an option where this woman was concerned.

      ‘Please sit down again, Jinx,’ he persuaded, still sensing her indecision.

      She sat, looking down at her hands now, the fiery curtain of her hair falling forward to caress the paleness of her cheeks as those hands clenched tightly together.

      What was it? What had he missed? Because Nik was more convinced than ever that he СКАЧАТЬ