The Playboy & Plain Jane. Leanne Banks

me down, Jonathan. You’re just terrified you’ll miss the beginning of the game,” she said.

      “There you go breaking my heart again,” he said, allowing her feet to slide to the floor. “I didn’t want to miss one minute with you.”

      “You’re full of it,” she said, dismissing him. “The only reason you’re watching the game with me is because your buddies are busy.” She glanced over her shoulder and her gaze collided with Nicholas’s. “I’m sorry. I thought you had already left. Nicholas Barone, my boss,” she added in a meaningful tone for her guest’s benefit, “this is Jonathan O’Reilly. Jonathan is one of my volleyball teammates, and also one of my best friends, despite the fact that he takes the Irish flirting thing way too seriously.”

      Jonathan shot her a brief glance of mock disapproval, then extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nicholas Barone. I’ve consumed a fair amount of your fine product over the years, and I’ve admired your company.”

      “Thank you,” Nicholas said, liking and not liking the man at the same time. Gail might insist that Jonathan was her friend, but Nicholas had been around long enough to sense that Jonathan wanted more than friendship with her. He resented the ease with which the man touched Gail, which was stupid. As long as Gail did her job with Molly, he shouldn’t care about her relationships. “There’s beer in the fridge if you like.”

      “Thanks. I don’t want to chase you out of your own den,” Gail said. “If you’d like to join us…”

      Nicholas shook his head. “No, I have some reading to do.”

      “And recording,” she reminded him with a smile.

      “And recording. Good night,” he said to both of them, and climbed the stairs with an uncomfortable gnawing sensation in his gut. He heard the sound of Jonathan’s low voice, followed by Gail’s laughter, and stopped halfway up the stairs. Her laughter, robust and uninhibited, unintentionally sexy, sent a rush of shocking desire though him. Something about the sound of it was addictive, and it occurred to him that making Gail laugh could be like making her climax. The notion knocked him sideways, yet at the same time he knew it was true.

      She laughed again, and the same sensation rolled through him. He frowned at his response. He couldn’t recall ever becoming aroused just from the sound of a woman’s laughter. Tamping down the strange but forceful urge to be the man to make her laugh, he climbed the rest of the stairs, but he didn’t resist the temptation to leave his bedroom door open so he could hear her laugh again.

      For the next two hours he scoured manufacturing reports in preparation for a regional meeting. His eyelids grew heavy, and he closed his eyes and leaned back against his pillow. He would rest for just a moment, he told himself, and slid into a dream that was more a mixture of images than a story…

      He saw the faces of several of his top business managers and his father. Tension tightened his gut. Suddenly Gail’s laughter floated across his consciousness, and he was transferred from the boardroom to his bedroom.

      Her hair wild and free, Gail sat in the middle of his bed offering a smile of invitation. She wore a long-sleeved flannel nightgown that he wanted her to remove. He joined her on his bed, and as he took her mouth with his, he felt her start of surprise followed by her gradual acceptance of his kiss. Her lips were sweet and responsive.

      Her murmurs of encouragement made him hard. He felt as if he’d waited a long time to kiss her, a long time to take her. Kissing her only made him want more. He put his hands over her breasts and she pressed against his palms with gratifying speed.