The Prince Brothers: Satisfaction Guaranteed!. Кэрол Мортимер

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      But it was only to once again pick up the telephone receiver as he punched out the number with suppressed violence.

      Really meant for her? Probably, she accepted huskily. What must a man like Nik think of her, a twenty-eight-year-old woman, too afraid of the physical intimacy they had both craved such a short time ago, because she feared the emotional intimacy that would follow?

      ‘Zak?’ he barked into the receiver as his call was obviously answered.

      Zak…? His brother, Zak Prince? The legendary golden film star everyone—but especially women!—raved about?

      What on earth was the point of Nik telephoning him now, of all times?

      ‘No, I think you have the wrong number,’ a distracted voice sounded down the earpiece of the phone.

      ‘Very funny, Zak,’ Nik snapped in answer to his younger brother’s witty reply, all the time his gaze fixed on Jinx as she stood so aloofly remote in front of the window, the sunshine giving her hair the appearance of living flame. ‘Are you in the hotel?’ he demanded impatiently of Zak, knowing he was unfairly taking out his foul temper on his brother, but too angry with himself—and Jinx—at that moment to do anything else.

      ‘Uh-oh,’ Zak murmured knowingly, obviously giving Nik all of his attention now. ‘What—or should I say who?—has upset you, big brother?’

      ‘I’ll tell you later,’ Nik dismissed—knowing he wouldn’t tell Zak any such thing. The fact that he was frustrated as hell, first by Jinx’s accusations, and then by her shying off just now, was not something he intended discussing with his little brother. For one thing, it was simply too personal, and for another—Zak probably wouldn’t stop laughing for a week at the idea of his big brother being turned down in that way! ‘What I need right now is for you to find a beautiful woman—’

      ‘No problem,’ Zak assured him. ‘Why do you think I’m still in the hotel?’ he added mockingly.

      Nik would just bet it wasn’t a problem for his brother to find a beautiful woman; at thirty-six Zak went through women like other men went through socks! ‘Is she single?’ he prompted cautiously.

      ‘Of course,’ Zak came back slightly indignantly. ‘That only happened the once, Nik—and only then because she forgot to mention she was a married woman.’

      ‘Okay,’ Nik conceded. ‘In that case, I would like the two of you to go down to Reception, making sure you’re seen. There’s a reporter and photographer waiting down in Reception. I want you to distract them long enough for me to get the hell out of here!’ he explained impatiently as Zak would have interrupted.

      ‘Hmm,’ Zak mused. ‘And can I ask who’s going to be leaving with you?’

      ‘No,’ Nik snapped.

      ‘And you asked me if I’m with a married woman—’

      ‘Zak!’ he warned.

      ‘Okay, okay, give me ten minutes. I’ll call you as I’m about to go down. If it rings three times and then stops, that means it’s me—’

      ‘Zak, you aren’t supposed to be enjoying this!’ Nik growled, knowing his brother was doing exactly that—and that he would want some sort of explanation later on today!

      ‘Just give me ten minutes,’ Zak told him goodnaturedly.

      It was probably going to be the longest ten minutes of his life, Nik realized as he slowly put down his receiver, Jinx still turned away from him. Although she couldn’t have helped but overhear his half of the telephone conversation, at least.

      Not that it would have been much help, he acknowledged ruefully; he wasn’t especially known for explaining himself to people, even less so when all he really wanted to do was pull Jinx back into his arms, take her to his bed, and keep her there for a week!

      He tensed as she finally turned around, a shutter coming down over his emotions as he took in the paleness of her face, her eyes seeming like huge blue lakes in that paleness. Damn it, she looked like an injured butterfly, all elusive fragility.

      ‘That was very kind of you.’ She spoke huskily, her gaze not quite meeting his.

      His mouth twisted. ‘I’ve never thought of myself as particularly unkind.’

      ‘I didn’t mean—never mind.’ The hand she had raised in protest dropped back down to entwine awkwardly with the other one, her expression guarded beneath dark lashes. ‘I’m sorry about just now—’

      ‘About what?’ Nik tried to sound unconcerned. Damn it, it was bad enough that just one word of encouragement from her and he would be back in her arms, without having her apologize for turning him down!

      ‘It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, isn’t it?’ he drawled.

      ‘I was referring to my accusations concerning the reporter, not—’ She broke off, sudden warmth colouring her cheeks. ‘Never mind,’ she mumbled.

      No, never mind. The fact that every time he met this woman he was left a frustrated mess was his problem, not hers. It was just that she seemed to get under his skin…

      If it weren’t for the fact she was J. I. Watson, then he would get the hell away from her—and stay away.

      Which, from how she was looking at him, was obviously exactly what she was thinking too!

      ‘Um.’ She swallowed hard, almost squirming with discomfort. ‘Do you think your brother will be long?’

      Of course, she hadn’t heard that part of the conversation. ‘Ten minutes should do it. Seven now,’ he added after a brief glance at his wrist-watch. ‘Can I get you a drink while we’re waiting?’ he offered almost desperately; this was obviously turning out to be the longest ten minutes of his life!

      Her tongue moved to moisten her lips, Nik’s pulse leaping along with it, although he was pretty sure that Jinx had no idea how provocative the gesture was. There was no way she would have done it if she had!

      ‘A cola, or some other soft drink?’ he elaborated as her frown deepened. ‘Don’t worry, Jinx,’ he added scathingly, moving to show her the mini-bar that stood in the corner of the sitting-room, stocked with drinks, nuts and chocolate. ‘I have no intention of trying to get you drunk in the middle of the day in order to have my wicked way with you!’

      ‘No,’ she confirmed flatly—giving him no idea what she thought of that particular suggestion! ‘Does that happen a lot? The thing with the reporter and photographer,’ she explained quickly, once again not meeting his gaze.

      Just in case he should misunderstand and assume she meant her having turned him down flat!

      He grimaced. ‘All the time.’ He shrugged. ‘We all came over a couple of weeks ago for our nephew’s christening,’ he explained at her questioning look. ‘And we’ve all been avoiding the media ever since,’ he added dryly, ‘but my little brother Zak, who’s still in town because he’s discussing his next film with the director, makes much more interesting reading than I do. Talk of the devil,’ he said as the telephone began to ring.

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