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the irrational rage coursing through his body at the thought of any asshole being dumb enough to cheat on Jess, he leaned back in the armchair and draped an arm across the back of it.
    “I’m not leaving.”
    Her chin tilted up. “Neither am I.”
    “Hundred bucks says you can’t last an hour working alongside me.”
    “A thousand says you won’t last a day.” She thrust out her chest for emphasis.
    Damn, she didn’t play fair.
    “Low blow, Jess.” He shifted in his seat. “You can’t go using your sexiness as a weapon.”
    Her eyes widened and her delectable lips parted a fraction. “You think I’m sexy?”
    If he hadn’t heard her tentativeness with his own ears he wouldn’t have believed it. For all her bluster and teasing earlier, she sounded exactly like she had a decade earlier: unsure, hesitant, innocent.
    “Hell, you want me to make a damn list?” His gaze roamed her body and he wrenched it back to her face with effort.
    “Please.”
    How could one whispered word slug him harder than a knockout punch he’d sustained in his last foster home before he’d run away to the outback?
    He shook his head. “I can’t play this game with you.”
    “Why not?” She deliberately focused on his lips, licked hers.
    “Because I’m not a dumbass twenty any more and you’re no longer a naïve eighteen.”
    Rather than backing down as he expected, she did the one thing guaranteed to make his libido sit up and howl.
    She placed her hand on the top of his thigh, one inch shy of his crotch.
    “Don’t sweat it. I’ll have a week on the island to change your mind.”
    “What frigging island?”
    Her teasing, sweet smile filled him with dread. “Didn’t you know? Dorian’s flying us to the wedding venue, his private island in the Caribbean, so we can finalize details.”
    “No way.”
    Fire sparked her eyes to caramel. “Fine. If you’re not up to the challenge…”
    Her fingertips edged closer to detonation zone and he leaped to his feet.
    “Dorian and Zazz are counting on us.” Her smug smile as her gaze zeroed in on his hard-on made him want to haul her over his knees and spank her. Hard. “You can’t say no.”
    His cock twitched in agreement.
    He was so screwed.

 
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    Burlesque Bombshell Basics
     
     
    Seamed stockings elongate the leg and draw a man’s eye to the thigh, where lace-tops or garters are guaranteed to have him salivating .
     
    “One week all expenses paid jaunt to the Caribbean and you look like this?” Chantal stuck her pinkies in the corners of her mouth, screwed up her nose and threw in a cross-eyed grimace. “Are you for real?”
    For Jess, this entire trip was all too real. “This isn’t what I want to do, you know that.”
    Chantal snorted. “Give me a break. You’d seriously rather be stuck behind a desk with your nose buried in a dusty book in a dead-end town than head to the Caribbean with a hottie like Jack?”
    “Jack’s work.”
    “And play.” Chantal smirked as she swept a bundle of costumes off a chest in her office and dumped them on the desk in front of her. “Take your pick. Any one of these will guarantee he’ll play.”
    “I’m not a dancer,” Jess said, her wistful gaze straying to a pale pink satin corset with ebony ribbon lace-ups. “And even if I did wear any of this stuff, I wouldn’t have a clue how to play with a guy like Jack.”
    “So you do want to play?”
    Jess made a zipping motion over her lips. Who was she kidding, denying she’d like nothing better than to get sweaty and naked with the delectable Jack?
    He hadn’t changed a bit. If anything, the last ten years accentuated his rugged looks. He’d been big and bronzed in the outback: six-three, ripped and tanned. There may be a few more lines fanning the corners of his eyes and deeper grooves bracketing his mouth now, but with that lazy Aussie drawl, unruly dark blonde curls and wicked smile, one look at Jack had catapulted her straight back to the time