Long Gone Girl by Amy Rose Bennett

counterpoint to the
muted pounding of the surf outside. It must have stopped
raining—weak sunlight filtered through the chintz curtains.
    It promised to be another fine day.
    Except for the fact that bittersweet sadness
pierced her heart and tears pricked at the back of her eyelids.
    Because when Jett woke, she would kiss him
good-bye.
    There was no doubt he was a lover like no
other. But that’s all he could ever be. Her heart was still bruised
after Charlie’s loss. And she couldn’t risk giving her heart away
again, especially to a hardened player like Jefferson Kelly, given
that he’d already broken her heart before.
    Besides that, she wanted a career, not a
relationship of any kind. Even though it hurt, she had to be
ruthless and crush the tender emotions welling inside her chest for
this man. Forget the moment when Jett had locked his gaze with hers
during their first round of sex last night. When she’d felt like he
was staring into her very soul.
    She bit her lip and swallowed to ease the
tight ache in her throat. No. Don’t think about it, Ginny. So what that he’d stayed with her, holding her in his arms, the
whole night? This had been a one-night stand. A night of mutually
gratifying sex between two consenting adults who were physically
attracted to each other. Nothing more.
    She might want Jett. But she sure as hell
didn’t need him.
    She swiped at a tear that had escaped and
her movement woke Jett. He stirred and gathered her closer into his
arms, then kissed her forehead. Her cheek. Then her mouth. Light,
gentle kisses that spoke of tenderness. Just like the tender light
in his sky-blue eyes as his gaze caressed her face.
    It’s only the afterglow following a marathon
bout of mind-blowing sex. Don’t kid yourself, Ginny.
    “Hey,” he murmured sleepily. “Good morning,
gorgeous. I have to sneak away to the bathroom but I’ll be back in
a minute.”
    She swallowed and cleared her throat.
“Sure.” She hoped the betraying huskiness of her tone could be
mistaken for a rusty morning voice.
    Jett rose and wrapped a towel about his lean
hips. “Just in case I encounter Mrs. Fingle.”
    Ginny forced a smile and nodded, trying to
ignore how drop-dead sexy he looked in nothing but a towel. “Let’s
hope not.”
    He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Back
soon.”
    As soon as the door snicked shut, Ginny
scooted out of bed and dug her pink cotton robe and fresh panties
out of her valise. It would be easier to farewell Jett if she at
least had something on. She’d only just finished dragging a brush
through the nightmarish mess of her hair when he came back.
    “I take it the coast is all clear then?” she
asked with a falsely bright smile. That’s it. Keep it light and
breezy. We’re all adults here.
    “Yep.” Jett’s forehead creased into a slight
frown as his gaze wandered over her berobed body. “Well, except for
a cat.”
    “Good. I guess it’s too early for Mrs.
Fingle to be up and about yet. But you never know...” Unsure what
to do or say next, she turned away to make the bed. Her movements
were hurried and clumsy, her knuckles white as she grasped and
tugged at the sheets and quilt.
    “Ginny…what’s the matter?”
    Jett was right behind her. His hands rested
on her shoulders and she had to crush the impulse to lean back into
him. Crap, this is going to be harder than I thought.
    “Nothing…I was thinking that now would be a
good time for you to make your escape. You know, before Mrs. Fingle
does get up.”
    There was a beat of silence then Jett turned
her around. He stared intently into her eyes and she couldn’t stop
a flood of heat rising to her cheeks.
    “No, something’s definitely going on that
has nothing to do with Mrs. Fingle,” he said, his tone serious.
“Have I said or done something wrong?”
    “No…no not at all.” Ginny twisted her
fingers in the tie of her robe, then stopped herself, aware that
the action would betray her inner turmoil. “It’s just