Fantasy World

  Fantasy World

  Lisa Renee Jones

  Published 2004

  ISBN 1-59578-002-5

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 6280 Crittenden Ave, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright © 2004, Lisa Renee Jones. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com

  Email: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Donette Smock

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  A mischievous little giggle escaped Jill Green's lips caused by the bad girl thoughts dancing in her head. A night on the town, pretending to have no obligations, felt incredibly, marvelously liberating. Bubbling with energy, her feet felt no pain from the slightly too high, incredibly sexy sandals gracing her perfectly manicured feet.

  Stepping into the lobby of the Manhattan hotel where she was meeting her best friend Cat, cool air soothed Jill's warm skin, enticing a sigh of relief from her mouth. Eyeing her surroundings with interest, she blew a long strand of brunette hair out of her eyes. She glanced at her dainty silver watch, confirming that Cat would be arriving soon. Jill was more than a little anxious to get this girls' night out under way. Actually she was quite impatient.

  Cat had picked the New Yorker bar to meet up, claiming it had a wide selection of prime men, as well as being the hot spot for up and coming people in the advertising world. Everyone who was anyone in the industry was seen at some point in the New Yorker bar.

  Since Jill had just landed her first job in advertising, the choice of the New Yorker seemed appropriate.

  Jill shook her head as a smile played on her lips. Leave it to Cat to know where the prime men, whatever that actually meant, could be found. How does one define prime? Jill made a mental note to pose that question to Cat immediately upon her arrival. An important question, since Jill had every intention of locating one of those prime men tonight. Cat was always on the prowl for a good man, this being the reason Jill had nicknamed her Cat. Her real name was Allison, though Cat had caught on so well she was rarely called anything else.

  The only nickname Jill had acquired was workaholic, and she didn't plan to live up to the name on this particular night. In fact, she was going to make it her personal mission to prove that good girls could act out their naughtiest fantasies. She gave her chin a quick bob of determination.

  Reaching the entrance to the bar, Jill stood in the doorway, scanning the room. Since it was Jill's first visit to the bar, she took in her surroundings with interest. Her gaze slid to the ceiling in appreciation. Triangle-shaped lights dangling by the hundreds from the ceiling offered a seductive hint of dim light. Small round tables with matching chairs graced the room in clusters of four. The bar was busy though not overly crowded.

  Jill's eyes were drawn to a table where two men sat talking, one of them pulling her attention like a magnet, making her do a double take. Bingo, prime man at twelve o'clock. H-E-L-L-O! He was absolutely delicious. Now she understood the definition of prime because her eyes were now plastered on 'prime' incarnate.

  It was like a silent calling had echoed in the air as her eyes locked with Mr. Prime's. He was looking at her. She was looking at him. Absolute quiet seemed to fill the room and all activity around her disappeared. Nothing existed but the two of them, as if a magic circle had been drawn around them. Jill licked her lips nervously. His gaze followed the action, lingering on her lips, before slowly returning to her eyes.

  He was quite possibly the most perfect man Jill had ever seen in her life. His dark eyes were penetrating and soulful, yet they were also erotic, and amazingly arousing. Those sultry eyes had such a magnitude of effects on her, Jill felt tingling warmth spread across her body.

  His lips were alluringly full and sexy. She could imagine how wonderful kissing those lips would be. Noticing a man's lips was a new experience. Perhaps because she had never seen lips so damn sexy. Or perhaps because it had been so very long since she had been kissed.

  Sleek muscles rippled beneath a tight-knit, black shirt. She moaned inwardly as her eyes traced his body. What a body it was too. He had enough delicious muscle to make even the most distracted woman take notice. Amazingly, he had managed to get her mind and body to react with a raw, primal need. As a rule, she kept her thoughts and actions censored. But clearly this man took away her ability to control her more intimate needs.

  Dark hair, thick and slightly tousled, framed his chiseled cheeks and jaw. A darkly tanned complexion gave him a slightly exotic, rather dangerous look. The kind of danger Jill found surprisingly enticing. Yes, his type of danger looked mighty appealing.

  Immune to most men's attributes, the thought was a bit overwhelming, though no less enticing. How could a stranger she had never even spoken to make her this hot and bothered? It was crazy, but it was a fact--a deliciously, sinful fact.

  His eyes explored her with blatant appreciation. He had an amazing gift for making her feel as if he had touched her physically when he was merely looking at her. It was a unique talent with the ability to send sizzling sensations through her entire body. Jill swallowed hard and drew her hand to her throat, suddenly feeling a little too hot and bothered.

  How long had she been spellbound by this man? She shook her head slightly trying to move out of her comatose state, breaking eye contract with her wonderful stranger. Slowly the room returned to normal, sounds began buzzing in the air; reality slowly penetrating her lust-fogged mind.

  Jill again scanned the room; Cat was nowhere in sight. She found an open table and positioned herself in a seat facing the doorway so she could see her friend as she entered. A waitress efficiently arrived, placing a napkin in front of her. Jill looked up at her and stared. Her appearance was striking, the kind of woman that turned heads.

  When Jill didn't order a drink immediately, the waitress prompted her with impatience evident in her tone. "Drink?"

  The waitress was tall, forcing Jill to strain her neck to look up at her. Most of her height came from her long, slim legs. Raven hair and black eyes made her an arresting image. She was not beautiful, but unique. Jill could picture Mr. Prime dating this woman. Or perhaps Mr. Prime would prefer a gorgeous, bosomy blond, like Cat.

  What Jill couldn't picture was Mr. Prime with someone like herself. Yet he had stared at her as if she was some type of irresistible dessert. God, he was amazing, but she was kidding herself to assume he was truly interested.

  The waitress cleared her throat. Jill jumped, realizing she had drifted into her own world again; keeping the woman waiting for her order. Aware of the irritation on the woman's face, she quickly ordered a margarita.

  The woman mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath and then turned and walked away. Jill watched as she crossed the bar, her long perfect legs carrying her gracefully around the room. Frowning, she wished she could be more like the waitress. Being normal was so boring. Unique was good.

  It wasn't as if she was unattractive. Men noticed her, though 'cute' was often the word of choice attached to her presence. The very thought made her grimace. Cute had become a bad word in her vocabulary. Those who knew her well would not dare venture into the world of cute. New comers were told to be afraid, be very afraid, when using the word cute in Jill's presence. Any guy who called her cute tonight wou
ld not be getting lucky, that was for damn sure.

  Unconsciously, she ran a hand through her long, straight, brunette hair. Picturing herself in comparison to the waitress, she grimaced again. Brown hair was average, black was striking, blond was simply irresistible. Admittedly, she had a slim yet curvy figure, but Jill would have preferred to be slim and leggy like the waitress. Perhaps it was the rut she had been stuck in for so many years, but she longed to be seen as unique, attractive, and well, damn it, sexy. Could brown hair ever be sexy?

  A vivid image of the time when she was eighteen and tried to bleach her hair came screeching into her mind, making her groan deep in her throat. Her hair had broken off, but only after it turned slightly green. After that she decided brown would do just fine and vowed never to touch a bottle of hair color again in her life. A vow she had kept for the last seven years, no matter how tempted to try another color.

  At twenty-five she had accepted being a lifetime brunette, but that didn't mean she didn't suffer hair color envy. Did Freud even have a theory about hair color envy? She wasn't sure, but if he had she was certain he would say she was really messed up in the head. Still, a man like the one across the bar could make a woman do crazy things.

  * * * *

  Ryan Monroe laughed as Bob Hart told one of his trademark bad jokes. It was not that the joke itself was so funny, but rather the fact that Bob always had a new and equally bad one to tell. It was hard to believe that in the ten years he had known Bob, the man had never run out of bad jokes. In college it had earned him the nickname of Joker.

  Bob was the only college buddy Ryan had kept in contact with, perhaps because, despite his bad jokes, Bob took business very seriously. A fact that Ryan respected since he too took business very seriously. As President of The Carlson Group, a well respected advertising firm, he had skyrocketed the company and tripled profits in only five years. His tutelage had opened new doors for the company, making them a leader rather than a follower. Bob had done equally well with a start-up venture he masterminded in the electronics field.

  Feeling an odd crackle in the air, Ryan's eyes darted to the doorway. There stood the most angelic sight he had ever seen. Dressed in a light blue skirt and a matching sleeveless blouse, was a vision of perfection. Long, silky, brown hair danced around perfect ivory skin that even dim lighting did nothing to diminish. She was looking at him, a fact he found more than a little pleasing. He didn't normally date brunettes, having a taste for blondes--or so he thought, until a few seconds ago. To hell with blondes, he liked this brunette standing at the door.

  He studied her openly, noting an odd vulnerability about her; yet there was a deep sensuality beneath her surface. Her red lips were full and delectable, complementing her heart-shaped face perfectly. He shifted in his chair as she broke eye contact, watching as she moved through the bar, unable to drag his eyes from her form. A strange sense of loss filled him as he lost sight of her.

  "Earth to Ryan," Bob said snapping two fingers in front of Ryan's face. "Hello? She is a looker but I am still here you know." Bob ran his hand across his buzzed, blond hair and smiled. "At least something other than work can get your attention."

  Ryan grinned in return. "I have never had a problem taking a momentary break for the right member of the opposite sex."

  "Just as long as they don't demand more than a romp or two in the sack, right ole' boy?" Bob asked with a bit of disapproval seeping into his voice.

  Ryan grimaced. "Hey, until Angela somehow hypnotized you, things were no different for you. Don't sit there and act high and mighty and judge me."

  "I am not judging you, you know better than that. However, you are thirty-four years old and it's time to think about family and a few things other than work," Bob suggested solemnly.

  Ryan snorted. "Speak for yourself. Just because you're hog-tied doesn't mean you have to take everyone else down with you."

  Bob shook his head grimly from side to side and sighed. Glancing at his watch, he shifted in his seat. "I need to hit it. I'm meeting Angela for dinner in half an hour." Before he got up he looked at his friend a long moment. "When the right woman comes along, you will not feel hog-tied, believe me. I just hope you will have your eyes open when she does." Bob pushed to his feet and gave Ryan a mock salute. "See ya."

  Ryan downed the rest of his crown and coke and scanned the room. There she was, his brunette angel, and she was still alone. That was all the invitation he needed.

  *

  Jill's drink clunked on the table in front of her, forcing her eyes up. Her breath caught in her throat, because there stood, in front of the table, her wonderful, sexy stranger, the one she had spotted as she entered the bar. Tall, broad and definitively tempting.

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. He was even taller than she had thought, standing at least six foot three inches, judging from the strain in her neck as she looked up at him.

  "Hi," he said in a deep, resonating voice that was so damn sexy she thought she might keel over. "I'm Ryan."

  He wore soft denim jeans that hugged muscular thighs. Her eyes traced the perfection of his body. An unnerving flare of outright lust surged through her limbs with lightning speed. She really would like to run her hands down his thighs. They were ... she didn't let herself finish the thought, already blushing from her own boldness. God, she had a very expressive face. People always told her that. She forced her eyes back to his, nervously grabbing her bottom lip in her teeth. What if he could guess her thoughts?

  She couldn't seem to make her voice work. Her heart was fluttering way too fast to be safe so she forced herself to inhale discreetly and then exhale before speaking. "Uh, hi. I'm Jill." And you are gorgeous. Her voice was shaky and she cringed internally at the sound.

  He chuckled ever so softly as his gaze slid over her face, lingering and probing as if he was trying to figure her out. "Mind if I join you or are you expecting someone?"

  Jill simply couldn't believe this amazing specimen of a man was standing before her, asking to join her. She tried to act nonchalant. She shrugged her bare shoulders. "Yeah, sure. Feel free. Um, thank you for the drink," she said as she took a slow sip, hoping to calm her nerves.

  He sat down next to her rather than across from her. What that implied didn't slip past Jill. His deep blue eyes studied her a bit too carefully.

  "At the risk of sounding like I'm feeding you a line," he paused, offering her another sexy smile, "what is a gorgeous girl like you doing alone in a place like this?"

  Jill laughed. "Actually, I'm supposed to be meeting a friend, but she's terribly late."

  Ryan stared at her, liking what he saw. Her eyes were a deep, chocolate brown. Eyes a man could get lost in. Her laugh was sweet and playful. She was adorable, sexy, and most certainly the most interesting woman he had seen in a very long time. She had a unique air of being innocent, yet provocative. He found the combination made him want to learn more about her.

  Innocent or not?

  "I can't say I'm sorry," he said in a low voice. "If your friend wasn't late, I wouldn't be sitting here with you." He paused a beat. "Alone."

  She was slow answering. "Funny how things work out," she said softly, with a small smile playing on her lips.

  "So..." he started to speak when her cell phone rang.

  Jill reached for it, holding up one finger. "Sorry. It's probably my friend." He nodded as she answered her phone. "Hello."

  Cat's panicked voice greeted her. "Oh, God Jill, I am soooooo sorry. I didn't even know what time it was. My computer crashed and burned my article for tomorrow morning's publication. I have been in a total panic mode trying to get it rewritten. I can't believe I did this on an important night like tonight."

  "It's all right, Cat. Are you going to make your deadline?" she asked with sincere concern.

  "I will one way or another." Cat exhaled loudly into the phone. "You are too damn nice and understanding, I swear. I deserve to have you go off on me. I mean, I bet you're sitting
in the bar all alone."

  "Uh, sorta," Jill agreed stiffly.

  "Sorta? Is someone with you?" Cat asked in a disbelieving tone.

  "Yes," Jill replied.

  "Oh God, tell me he's cute," Cat said with excitement evident in her voice.

  "Very," Jill said in a carefully bland tone. Ryan was watching her. A tiny smile playing at the corner of his mouth as if he knew that she was talking about him.

  Cat shrieked into the phone and then turned authoritative. "Okay, here is the deal. Get laid. You need it honey. Don't think, just do. I know how you think so NO, you are not a whore for having a one-nighter. Especially, when you haven't been laid in so long you could medically be called a virgin again. Go for it."

  Jill rolled her eyes. "Go make your deadline and leave me alone," she growled, and hit the end button without saying goodbye. She carefully returned her phone to her purse.

  Ryan fixed her in a steamy gaze. "I take it your friend is not joining you?"

  There was satisfaction in his tone. Jill swallowed. Time to go for it or bail. The time of truth was here. Was she woman enough to go for it? He was watching her, waiting. She almost thought he knew what she was thinking.

  She wanted a night of fun, and fun had materialized in the form of a sexy man. Exactly what the doctor ordered. She wasn't going to chicken out. No way.

  "Looks like I am on my own. Cat, my friend, is a writer for the local paper. She had a little kink in meeting her deadline." She wished she hadn't told him that the second the words left her mouth. This was one night. No strings. No history.

  Ryan flagged the raven-haired waitress. Jill watched him as he spoke to her. He ordered a drink, dismissing her without a second thought.