Jason’s tone was bitter and Jenna succumbed to an urge to go over and wrap her arms around his waist from behind, resting her head against his shoulder.
‘What? I’m OK.’
‘You’re still hurt. She really let you down.’
‘Yeah, well. These things happen. Especially on the Bledburn estate. Anyway.’ He pulled her round to his side, resting his forehead against hers. ‘Landed on my feet, didn’t I? Now I’m here with one of the most gorgeous women in the world and she’s banged up waiting for a bail hearing.’
‘I’m not one of the most gorgeous women in the world,’ said Jenna, laughing. ‘That’s all make-up and camera angles.’
‘You’re the most gorgeous woman in my world.’ He gave the pan a shake, making sure the egg was set. ‘Are you sure you don’t want one of these?’
‘I’ll do myself an egg-white special once I’ve had coffee.’
‘How can you have an omelette without the yolk? That’s just weird.’
‘It’s the LA way. Can’t go getting fat, can I?’
‘Are you fucking joking? You could do with putting a bit of meat on, girl.’
‘Not if I want my career back at the end of this year.’
‘What? Don’t be stupid. You’re saying that you’re only famous because you’re thin? Get lost. You’re famous because you’ve worked flat out for it. Don’t put yourself down.’
‘I’ve worked flat out, yes, and part of that was working to make sure I had a flat stomach for TV. You can’t be less than perfect in my business, Jay. A few extra pounds could finish me on Talent Team.’
‘But don’t you think that sucks? What about that dude on the team, the one who was famous in the seventies? He’s about the size of this house.’
‘That’s different.’
‘Why?’
‘It just is.’ She could feel her patience wearing as thin as the rest of her. ‘Besides, I thought you liked my body. My scrawny arse doesn’t seem to put you off exactly.’
‘It’s not scrawny.’ He cupped it in both hands, as if to make sure of this. ‘But I sometimes think I’d like a bigger target. When you’re bent over my knee.’
She swallowed, all her indignation melting at the low, drawled words.
‘That’s because you’re a dirty pervert,’ she said.
‘Guilty as charged.’ He rubbed her silk kimono gown over her curves.
God, I can’t be turned on again, not so soon after . . .
The thought was scattered by a kiss, which became long and slow and involved tongues and fondling.
The smoke alarm screeched and they leapt apart.
‘Shit!’ Jason rescued the pan and its lightly charred contents from the hob. The scent of burnt coffee joined that of barbecued egg. ‘Looks like breakfast’s off. Better find another use for that table, eh?’
Keeping his hands beneath her buttocks, he jolted her up so that her legs were wrapped around his hips. She clung on about his neck, falling eagerly back into the kiss while he hefted her across the floor to the big shiny Corian-topped table in the centre of the huge room.
Before he sat her down on it, he lifted the hem of her gown clear of her bottom, so that it landed on the cold, sleek surface with no protection, causing her to squeal.
‘Oh, it’s cold,’ she said, when he moved his lips from her mouth to her ear.
‘Good,’ he whispered. ‘You’ll want warming up then.’
She was naked beneath her robe, so it took Jason mere seconds to open his own dressing gown and introduce what lay beneath to her parted legs. He leant over her, laying her down flat between the salt cellar and the pepper pot, and eased into her, a knife into butter.