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“I’m not saying you would, or even could, do that, Jacey,” Caro said. “I’m just saying it could be perceived that way.”
Jacey’s shoulders slumped and again, Caro saw a glimpse of a vulnerability she’d never have imagined.
“However,” she said, giving in to an impulse she didn’t quite understand, “as long as you play by the rules and keep things low-key, I don’t suppose there’s any harm in you being friendly with any of the contestants. Digg included.”
Jacey flashed a bright smile. “You’re not so bad for a pencil-pushing tightass.”
Caro raised a brow. “Gee, thanks.”
“Thatwasa compliment.”
“I wouldn’t have thanked you if I hadn’t known that.”
Jacey moved to leave the trailer, then paused and turned to face her again. “By the way, would you and that Winchester dude make up already? The two of you are making everyone around here pretty miserable with all your sighs and heartfelt looks.”
Before Caro could even express her shock that her feelings had been so easily read, Jacey continued. “You two need to get it on. And soon.”
This time Caro’s mouth fell open. Then she snapped it closed again. “That’s pretty personal.”
Jacey plopped onto the sofa and bent over to rest her elbows on her knees. “Got anyone else around to talk to?”
Anyone else. Hmm…there was Renauld, the menopausal director. Joshua Charmagne, the self-absorbed host. The players in the game. And oh, sure, how about Mick’s sister, mother, his cousin’s wife or her geriatric sexpot great-aunt? Pretty depressing. “Nope.”
“I don’t go for girl-talk stuff, but I do know how to keep my mouth shut—just in case, I don’t know, you feel like getting anything off your chest.”
And suddenly Caro was. She started blabbing like a gossipy woman revealing someone else’s dirty laundry. She might as well have been Mrs. Kravitz onBewitched.
She didn’t go as far as to include Sunday night’s events, though she imagined Jacey could read between the lines.
“So,whyaren’t you sleeping with him again?”
Caro sighed. Leave it to Jacey to go to that part. The part she’d tried to omit. “He doesn’t want to be used.”
This time Jacey responded with a snorty laugh. “All men fantasize about being used for sex.”
“Not this one.”
Jacey replied with a skeptical lift of her brow. “You sure he’s straight?”
This time it was Caro who choked out a laugh, responding with a vehement nod. “Oh, yeah. Very sure.”
“Is he into that weird Tantric stuff, self-denial, bizarre things like that?”
Despite his incredible patience in bed, he always reached a point where he wouldn’t deny himself, or his partner, a thing.
“Uh, I don’t think so. Basically, he just doesn’t want to be a temporary fling—someone I can kill time with, forgive the pun. He knows I’ll be leaving soon to go back to California.”
Jacey reclined on the love seat, lifting her boot-clad feet to rest them on the armrest. She put her hands behind her head and lay there, thinking about it. “Wow. A guy whodoesn’twant no-strings sex from a woman he knows won’t expect anything more from him in a couple of weeks.”
Sounded crazy, given the sex drives of most men Caro had known. Heck, ninety percent of the unmarried male population probably would have leaped on such an opportunity. But Mick had always followed his own beat, walked his own path. She rubbed her aching temples with her fingertips. “He’s an unusual man.”
Jacey remained silent for a moment, just staring up at the tiled ceiling of the trailer. Caro watched her, wondering what the girl was so interested in, but saw nothing except some mildew spots and dust.
“So, why’s he so sure you’re going to blow him off?” Though her voice was deceptively soft, her tone held a note of sharpness that told Caro the young woman had cut directly to the heart of the matter.
“There’s this whole geography issue—”
“That’s a lame excuse.” Jacey shrugged, not looking apologetic in the least. “I mean, married people commute coast to coast these days.”
