Lust in Translation Page 2

  He’d expected an icy blonde with an attitude to match, just like Allison. But Jaime looked nothing like her sister, and by the way she responded to her students, he knew she wasn’t a closed-minded snob either.

  Jaime had a throaty voice, caramel skin and deep dimples when her warm smile appeared. She was a beauty, but watching her interact with the teens made her an even more tantalizing mix of alluring and soulful, a darling with big ideals and a warm heart. She’d seemed so emotional after seeing her students that he’d wanted to give her some space. But now curiosity was getting the best of him.

  He cleared his throat to get her attention. “What did you teach?”

  Jaime turned towards him, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. His fingers itched to sink his hands into the mass of long dark hair whipping in the wind. She had a truly unaffected beauty, an ethereal exotic look that drained the blood from his brain. He couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or damned inconvenient. There was some clichéd Americanism about the best man and the maid of honor, wasn’t there?

  “I teach languages mostly. Spanish, French, German, Japanese.”

  Unlike most women, Jaime had the ability to look both brazen and pure with a simple grin like she was giving him now. Even with her hair held away from her face with a white headband, wearing a simple pink tank and beige linen pants, she pulled off an elegance most women couldn’t manage in couture. Her beauty radiated from within, the kind of woman who looked better in her own skin than in anything she could ever put on.

  “Japanese? Huresisam itak eeraman ya?”

  Her fun, full-bodied laugh made him smile. “I think the better question is why do you want to know if I speak Russian? That’s what you just said, right? I’ve never been asked if I speak Russian in Japanese before.”

  “I have a meeting with a Russian supplier next month. He refuses to speak anything but Russian, and I have to coordinate shipments with him and a half dozen Japanese silk importers.”

  She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Sorry, my Russian doesn’t go beyond the introductory level.”

  “How many languages do you speak?”

  “Only English and Spanish fluently. The rest are borderline.” She folded her hands together and set them on her lap. “What about you?”

  “I’m what you’d call borderline in too many, fluent in French and American.”

  “You mean English.”

  “No, I have no idea what the Brits are talking about half the time.”

  The laugh was back, and it was infectious. The potency of her smile shocked him. Trent’s email mentioned she wasn’t long past a break-up. He’d asked Xavier to be nice, but he doubted they had the same definition of nice just now.

  He wanted this trip to be spontaneous and carefree, especially after the time he had in New York fighting with buyers over distribution rights. That bit of work out of the way, he intended to spend his holiday enjoying himself, seeing and doing all the things he should have done long before now.

  Watching Jaime with her students today told him she deserved the break too. Her commitment to them shone in how much they appreciated her efforts. Someone ought to reward her.

  Wanting to hear her voice more than the roar of the wind, Xavier pushed the button to raise the ragtop of the convertible. He wanted to find out just how much fun this trip with her could be. From the way her cheeks had heated when he kissed her hello, he doubted it would go as far as he wanted it to, at least tonight. And any minute now she was liable to get mighty angry with him.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to let her in on his plans now that they were too far from DC for her to turn back.

  Chapter Two

  The sky darkened and the storm that had been threatening for the past hour loomed in the distance. Xavier must have sensed it too. He’d raised the roof of the convertible, closing them in the small space with no distractions from the conversation they needed to have. But even with over an hour of driving behind them, she still hadn’t figured out how to talk him into getting her to Oregon as fast as possible.

  She turned in her seat and pulled out her travel folder, then placed it on her lap. Inside were the maps of three different routes they could take, with hotel stops marked along the way. She’d taken the drive so many times she barely needed them anymore, but it was always best to be prepared.

  “What do you have there?” Xavier’s deep voice slid over her like molten chocolate over a truffle.

  Truffles. Like the white chocolate version Allison had ordered for the wedding. Jaime blinked and steered her mind back to business.

  “Driving directions. Since we got a late start and it looks like a storm up ahead, I think we should stop in Pittsburgh for the night. If the weather holds we might be able to make it to Ohio.”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “How long were you thinking it would take us to get across the country?”

  “Less than three days if we drive in shifts and get lucky with the weather. I don’t mind driving in the dark as long as it’s clear, but when it storms I’d rather be inside.”

  “I don’t think we should get too caught up in the details, J’aime. It’s far too restricting.”

  “It’s much more efficient this way.”

  The muscles in his neck flexed as he swallowed. “I think we should stop sooner rather than later. That way we can get a few things straight before we head out tomorrow.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Such as?”

  “I’m not driving three thousand miles to get somewhere; I actually want to see the country. I won’t be driving at night, or in a hurry. I want to enjoy the trip. You should too.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but wasn’t sure which argument to make. It wasn’t that she was against enjoying the trip. It just didn’t serve the purpose of getting to Oregon. She had to get there soon so she could start networking her way into a teaching position and find an apartment. She’d been on her own far too long to live at home for more than a couple weeks.

  “This is an adventure. When was the last time you did something exciting? Something just to enjoy it?”

  She couldn’t come up with a single instance, but would die before admitting it. “My life has plenty of excitement.”

  He smirked. “Tell me about it.”

  Clearing her throat, she offered up the graduation party she’d chaperoned, carefully omitting the fistfight that had broken out in the parking lot.

  “That’s work. Do you ever enjoy yourself away from the kids?”

  Again she felt like a fish, her mouth gaping open. “I run and I taught rock-climbing classes.” He looked thoroughly unconvinced she’d ever experienced elation. “Teaching is fun for me.”

  “But what do you do for you, J’aime?”

  Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating angry clouds and a horizon blurred by driving rain. Electricity crackled in the atmosphere, the current flowing through the dense, humid air. She spied a road sign as they barreled down the freeway. Ten miles to Bedford. She checked her notes to see if they could stop there.

  “What are you doing?” His voice held a mocking quality she didn’t appreciate.

  “Looking to see if there is a Holiday Motel in Bedford. The weather looks pretty nasty up ahead.” The thunderous skies above them loomed ominously, waiting to release their fury.

  “We’re not staying in a motel.”

  “I have a preferred-customer account there. For every ten nights I stay, I get a night free.” Jaime rifled through the papers, looking for the list of participating motels along their route. “There isn’t a Holiday Motel in Bedford, so we’ll have to keep going. The closest one is in Mt. Pleasant, but that is barely an hour from Pittsburgh, so we might as well go all the way.”

  “J’aime, can I see that folder?” He held out his large hand, never taking his attention from the road.

  “While you’re driving?” To emphasize her point, large raindrops began to
splatter on the windshield.

  “I want a better look at that map on the top of the page.”

  Reluctantly, she slipped the folder into his hand. He set it on his lap and pressed a button to lower the window. Before she could decide what he was up to, he’d slid her folder out the cracked window.

  “Hey!” she yelled, the seatbelt cutting into her shoulder as she turned to watch the pages fluttering behind them. “That was mine. And littering is a huge fine, I’ll have you know.”

  “Do you feel better?” A drum roll of thunder underscored his words.

  “Better? I’m in a car with a crazy man who just dumped our itinerary in the middle of the road.”

  He waved a hand, dismissing her words. “The trip will be better for it, I promise you. Besides, tomorrow we’re going to see not one, but two houses built by Frank Lloyd Wright.”

  She slunk down in her seat, a faint memory of a magazine article highlighting the angular architectural designs coming to mind. She tried not to whine. “Are they on the way to Oregon?”

  “J’aime, the shortest distance between two points is not the only way to go.”

  Three cleansing breaths did nothing to calm her desire to have a toddler-worthy tantrum. Xavier might be hot, but that was severely cooled by his takeover of her travel plans. She couldn’t scream at him, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d shaken her like a bottle of cola, and all she wanted to do was explode. Instead, she rolled her frustrations inward and tried a new approach.

  “I really appreciate the ride back to Oregon, and I’m not against stopping to see things you want to see, but I’d like to be clued into this plan of yours.”

  “As long as we’re there before the big day, what does it matter how we get to Oregon? There’s no need to control everything.”

  Her heart raced and she fought to contain the anger threatening to send her voice into the upper octaves. She could compromise, really she could. “I’m not suggesting we plot out every gas-station stop, but we should know when and where we’re stopping at night. We don’t want to be zooming down the freeway in the fast lane and miss an exit or a freeway interchange. We need a clear plan in mind.”

  A few minutes ago she’d thought she knew the way home by heart, but now she wasn’t so sure. She took one route in the summer because it was shorter, another in the winter to avoid the higher passes. What if she wound up lost in the mid-West with a Frenchman who placed no value on her personal property? How could she possibly explain this to her sister? Her mother?

  “I promise we’ll make it in time for the wedding festivities. And you won’t have to worry about staying in some chain motel. It will be my treat.”

  As if she would be willing to be beholden to him. “I can pay my own way.” A mournful wind howled at the mottled sky. Really, she hated driving in storms. The sooner they got off the road, the safer they’d be. And the time would give her a chance to think of a way to make the man see reason.

  “If I’m paying, then I don’t have to worry about looking for a Holiday Motel.” He set his blinker and changed lanes as another sign for Bedford flashed by them.

  What was she supposed to do? Demand he drive her to Pittsburgh so she could get on a bus? A part of her screamed yes. Another part yelled back that she didn’t really want to get home any faster than she had to. She was tired of always taking the safe road, always needing to organize and manage everything. It hadn’t exactly worked well for her as of late.

  Still, if she had any hope of convincing him to do things her way, she needed to better know her opponent. Just like with her students. If she could find what motivated him, she could steer him in the right direction.

  She tucked one foot under her leg and studied Xavier’s profile. He had the chiseled masculine beauty rarely found outside of magazine ads. There was something more too, an intelligence and playfulness behind the handsome veneer that could be her undoing. If she didn’t keep her defenses up, she might end up doing his bidding for a smile the way she’d wound up with boys’ homework in high school.

  “So, Frank Lloyd Wright is an obsession of yours. Are you an architect?”

  He shook his head. “The only things I build are spreadsheets, but I’ve always admired his work. Someday I’d like to design a home.”

  She could see the advantage to that. Creating something that was completely your own in every way. “Spreadsheets? Are you an accountant?”

  “Of sorts.” He took the exit from the freeway. “How do you feel about staying at a haunted hotel?”

  …

  “You planned this, didn’t you?” Jaime sounded only slightly annoyed. Her ire about their misadventure must be waning.

  “You think?” Xavier grinned up at her before she turned and started up the narrow stairway to the attic. He’d planned having her ahead of him on the stairs so he could appreciate the way her hips swayed when she climbed, but he hadn’t exactly planned on visiting the haunted inn. He’d seen a brochure for the place in the lobby of his hotel in DC. Visiting a haunted house was on the list of things to do on this trip, and he figured sleeping in one would be even better. He didn’t buy into ghosts and all that, but he didn’t want to miss the opportunity, and he sure as hell didn’t want to sleep in a roadside motel.

  At the top of the stairs, she stepped aside and he turned the skeleton key in the lock and pushed open the door to the attic suite. The colonial atmosphere of the former farmhouse was just as strong here as it had been in the large foyer downstairs. Chestnut beams reinforced the slanted ceiling, thick fieldstone walls gave the impression of stepping back in time, and an enormous fireplace took possession of the room.

  Wood-plank floors creaked as he explored the space. On the left was a tiny room smaller than his sister’s shoe closet. Only room enough for a pencil-post twin bed covered in an heirloom quilt.

  The main room had a severe square table and simple chairs, a rag-hook rug lay next to a large bed. He wouldn’t fit on the twin, but offering to take it was the proper thing to do.

  “This quilt is gorgeous,” Jaime said, stepping into the smaller room. She slid her bag to the floor so her hands were free to run along the faded material. She turned to face him, a coquettish tilt to her chin.

  “Do you really think it’s wise to stay at a haunted hotel on a dark and stormy night?”

  “It’s brilliant, unless you believe in ghosts.” His gaze stuck on her lips, full and ripe as summer fruit, beckoning to be savored.

  “You’ve never heard anything go bump in the night?” Her dark eyelashes fluttered suggestively. Sexual hunger coiled in the pit of his stomach, but he reined it in.

  When the manager said there was only one room left panic had frozen on her features, only thawing when she realized there were separate bedrooms. She seemed to be warming to the idea of enjoying the adventure of a road trip, but he didn’t want to push her too soon. “Do you believe in ghosts?” He couldn’t help his lips curling just a small bit.

  She shook her head. “I do wonder why we’re here, at a bed and breakfast known for stories of unexplained sightings.”

  “It was your idea to stop for the night.”

  “Not here.” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Did you read the plaque downstairs? People have been murdered in this house.”

  “Hence the ghosts.” He reached for her shoulder, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. Her golden skin was warm and soft beneath his hand, and entirely too tempting. He released her and shoved his hand into the pocket of his cargo shorts. “Not to worry, J’aime. No one has been killed here in the last century.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, thanks. I feel much better now.”

  “If it helps, you can sleep in my bed.” He gave a teasing wink. “I’ll be there if something goes bump in the night.”

  The laugh was back, igniting a sparkle in her dark eyes. “No doubt you’d be the cause of it. I’m just fine on my own, thanks.”

  She turned away and walked to the w
indow in the main room. When she pulled open the thick curtain, they could see rain sheeting against the glass. The thunderstorm gave the place an eerie edge he hadn’t counted on.

  But then, perhaps the electricity in the air had nothing to do with lightning or the supernatural, but with the sexy woman silhouetted in the window. Jaime Cruz had flattened his expectations and piqued his interest. They lived on different continents, led different lives and had different views on how to vacation. Perhaps it was this fleeting freedom of being on holiday that drew him to her.

  Knowing it was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission, Xavier moved behind her. He braced his hands on the sill on either side of her. He didn’t watch the storm, but the dark reflection of her soulful brown eyes in the glass.

  “We should grab dinner in the restaurant downstairs, and then get to bed early.” Jaime’s smile reflected in the window, and she probably caught his image there as well. “We have a lot of ground to make up tomorrow.”

  Oh, she just didn’t get it. He moved his hands over hers, splaying her fingers. “Bed sounds good.”

  “Dinner sounds better. I missed lunch.” She slid her hands from beneath his, then wrapped her arms around her middle and turned her face to him, still bracketed between his body and the window. “What do you think is going to happen here?” Her warm, sweet voice unfurled a curl of longing within him.

  “Something exciting.”

  She leveled her gaze at him. “I doubt they serve anything but the basics downstairs.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll stay up here.”

  She shook her head, her thick brown hair caressing her bared shoulders. “The only thing going on in this room tonight will be sleep. And before we sleep, we’re going to see what’s edible downstairs.”

  “I’m not one of your students, so you can’t tell me what to do. In fact I think I could teach you a few things.”