An Irresistible Bachelor

An Irresistible Bachelor By Jessica Bird



Jack reached out and brushed his hand over the cool skin of her cheek. She stepped back, her pupils expanding with heat and turmoil. That was when he knew she wanted him, too.....

He shot her a level stare. "You know what? I think you're looking for excuses not to take this job, and it would be a shame to turn down something so important on the basis of fear, don't you think?" He took out his business card and pressed it into her hand. "This could make your career and you know it. Call me tomorrow with your answer."

"I gave you my answer," she countered.

"Think about it."

"I have."

"Well, think about it some more," he said doggedly. "I'll make you a promise. You come to work for me and I'll take great pains to ensure what you're so worried about never comes to pass."

"And what do you think I'm worried about?"

Before he knew what he was doing, Jack grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. He dropped his head down to hers until their lips were separated only by the cold wind.

Which was almost no width at all....





For my Bluegrass Family, with love






Chapter 1





The woman came to him from the shadows and he knew her by the red of her hair. She moved slowly, deliberately, toward him and he released his breath with satisfaction. He wanted to ask her where she'd been because he'd missed her.

But the closer she got the less he felt like talking.

As she stopped in front of him, he reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. She was achingly beautiful, especially her eyes. They were spectacular blue, a shade that perfectly complemented the auburn waves that fell past her shoulders. He wanted her. No, he needed her.

Her smile deepened, as if she knew what he was thinking, and she tilted her head back. Staring at her upturned mouth, at her parted lips, a wave of urgency shot through his body. Giving in to the hunger he put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her dose, wanting to take what she was offering quickly before she disappeared again.

Bending down, he felt anticipation and something else, something that made his heart pound with more than lust.

Jack Walker's eyes flipped open. Caught up in the raging hunger in his body, he wasn't sure whether he was truly awake. Or where the hell he was. He knew the bed wasn't his own, but not much else.

He looked around at the dark shapes in the room. After a few deep breaths, the patterns made sense to him. He was at the Plaza Hotel in New York, in the suite he always used when he was in town.

And the woman he still wanted so badly it hurt had disappeared into thin air. Again.

He stared up at the ornate ceiling in frustration. He hadn't slept well the last two nights and he needed some sustained shut-eye soon. He didn't have much patience to begin with and lack of sleep wasn't getting him any closer to Mother Teresa territory.

The dream was driving him crazy.

Every time it was the same. Just as he was about to kiss her, right before he knew what she would taste like, he'd wake up slick with sweat and in a hellacious mood.

Jack pushed a hand through his hair. Without a suitable target for his frustration, he seethed in the darkness.

He'd only met the woman once and he hadn't thought she'd made that big an impression on him.

Restless, he had to fight his way out of the sheets that had gotten tangled around his naked body. When he was finally free, he walked over to a bank of windows and looked outside. The view was characteristically New York. Skyscrapers reaching toward the heavens, taillights flashing in a maze of asphalt down below. It was late at night, but the city was still hopping.

A couple of days before, he'd come down from Boston expecting to meet with his college roommate, who was now a top-notch political consultant, and to buy back a family painting. Picking up a subconscious sexual obsession had sure as hell not been on his itinerary.

But at least the meeting had gone well. And he'd gotten the portrait.

Last night he'd been the successful bidder at the Hall Foundation's lavish gala. The painting was John Singleton Copley's masterful rendering of Nathaniel Walker, a Revolutionary War hero and one of Jack's most prominent ancestors. He'd paid almost five million dollars for it, but he'd have gone higher. The painting should never have left the family and he was the only one who could afford to get it back.

Which would have been a surprise to anyone other than his immediate relatives.

Jessica Bird's Books