Tarzan & Janine by Delilah Devlin, Elle James Page A

the door was followed by a familiar voice. “Janine?”
    She fumbled with the canister of hairspray she’d been holding. As if thinking about Tanner conjured him. Geez, she needed to put some distance between them. She had to tell him she couldn’t do any more commercials. If she kept doing them, she might never land a real acting role in the theatre or movies.
    This was it. She was going to tell him. She sucked in a deep breath and opened the door. “Tanner, I need to talk to you.”
    “These are for you.” Tanner handed her a gorgeous bouquet of brilliant red roses. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”
    With velvety soft blooms in her face and their heavenly scent wafting beneath her nose, Janine did what most red-blooded American woman would do in just such a situation. “I don’t remember.”
    “Did I tell you how glad I am you decided to come today?” His warm gaze met hers.
    “No, you didn’t.”
    “Well, I am, and you look fantastic.” His glance skimmed the length of her body.
    Heat sang through her blood, reminding her of just how Tanner had persuaded her to perform in the next commercial. Her lungs squeezed as tightly as if the boa constrictor was still wrapped around her middle. Not again would she fall victim to the Peschke charm. She absolutely refused to settle for less than her dream.
    Pushing her lusty thoughts to the back of her mind, she clutched the bouquet to her chest like a shield, glad it kept her fingers otherwise occupied. Keep it impersonal. Don’t touch the sexy cowboy . “You’ve seen me in this outfit before.”
    “I know, but you look better every time.”
    Call it woman’s intuition, déjà vu, whatever, she knew he was up to something. “What do you want, Tanner?”
    Tanner stepped closer, removing the bouquet from her grip, setting it on a table in the hallway. With her hands free, she could have blocked his advance, but they moved of their own accord. When Tanner’s arms wrapped around her waist, her own wound around his neck.
    What was wrong with this picture? Janine couldn’t recall exactly what she was supposed to tell Tanner. Somehow she knew it wasn’t how wonderful his lips felt against hers or how his hands roaming across her bare back would feel even better in more...intimate places. “What are you doing to me?”
    “It’s got to be that outfit,” he said. “Does it make you feel as sexy as you look?”
    It isn’t the outfit, it’s you . Janine’s eyes widened. Did she say those words or were her thoughts that loud?
    “I do have something to tell you.” He nuzzled her neck.
    “No snakes,” she breathed, her knees going weak.
    “No snakes,” he agreed. “I have a question.” He bent close, his lips an inch away from hers.
    “Yes,” she breathed.
    “Yes?” Easing back his head, Tanner grinned. “I haven’t asked the question, yet.”
    Janine had to physically shake herself out of her Tanner-stupor. The only way to do that was to put space between them. She forced her arms to drop from around his neck and stepped away from the spellbinding man. There. That ought to do it. But her errant body still swayed in his direction. The traitor. “What’s the question?”
    “A local talk show host called and asked if we’d like to be on her show this morning?”
    Janine’s heart leaped into her throat. “What did you say?”
    “I said a local talk show—-”
    “I heard what you said.” She grabbed the front of his shirt. “I asked the wrong question. I meant what did you say to him?”
    “Her. Apparently we’ve gotten so much coverage on the news, we’re becomin’ local celebrities.” Tanner grinned. “Can you believe it? She wants to bring us on her show and ask us questions. You know, an interview about our life histories.”
    “That won’t fill a show. Mine is incredibly boring.” She circled a hand in the air. “I haven’t even made it past the Austin city limits, yet.”
    “Mine too, but I’m sure she’ll manage. And