Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,224

shuffling of papers. “Yes. My secretary left them for me.”

“Is there anything else we need then?”

The rabbi sighed heavily. “If you plan on having a custom ketubah I’ll need to approve it ahead of time. Otherwise, you can use the one the temple provides.”

“That’ll be fine.” Custom marriage contracts cost hundreds of dollars.

“And you need to let me know if you plan on attending the mikveh before the ceremony.”

Josie knew about the ritual bath Orthodox women visited as part of the family purity laws, but she hadn’t expected to ever go there herself. “I’m not sure—”

“It might be a nice gesture,” said the rabbi peremptorily. “It is a purification ritual. It might be appropriate for you, especially in light of your circumstances.”

“My circumstances?” Josie’s fingers stilled on her keyboard. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that you and Jack are cohabitating without benefit of marriage,” said the rabbi in a voice oozing with disapproval.

So that was the reason he was so cool. Josie sighed. They’d had the same argument with both sets of parents.

“If you think it would be appropriate, I’ll go,” she said to placate him. It seemed a simple enough thing to do, and if it got the rabbi off their backs…

“I’ll have Mrs. Kohn call you. She’s the mikveh attendant.”

He didn’t sound any more enthused, but Josie tried not to notice. “Thank you, Rabbi.”

The mikveh? she thought as she hung up. Visions of long-skirted Orthodox housewives filled her mind. She sighed. Oh, well. It wouldn’t kill her to get purified.

Chapter 9

“If you want to,” was what Jack said skeptically when she told him what she’d agreed to. “Hope you don’t melt.”

She swatted him for that not-so-subtle insinuation she needed purifying. “You could go, too. Lots of men do.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right. And I’ll grow my sideburns and wear a black hat, too.”

“Ooh, sexy.” Josie grinned and wiggled her feet, propped in his lap. “I could get myself a wig.”

He looked at her. “Nah. I like your hair.”

She touched it, tied up into a messy pony tail on top of her head. “I like yours, too.”

He ran a hand over his close-cropped head and made a face. “My mom’s been trying to convince me to let it grow for the wedding.”

Josie slid over onto his lap, her knees pressing into the back of the couch. “Don’t. I like it the way it is.”

“I’m not going to.” He linked his hands around her waist. “What time is Mim coming tomorrow?”

“Early. Around nine.”

“And what time will you be done?”

It wasn’t like him to badger her with questions about her schedule. “Not sure. Why?”

He shrugged, letting his head fall back against the cushions. “No reason.”

“If I don’t find a dress tomorrow,” she said, “I’m going to wear jeans and a T-shirt that says Jack’s Bitch on it in rhinestone letters.”

He cracked up, as she’d hoped he would. “And what would mine say?”

“Josie’s Manservant,” she replied without hesitation.

“In rhinestones?”

“No. Gold sparkly thread.”

He laughed and cupped her ass. “I like it when you call yourself my bitch. That gets me so hot.”

She pretended to be offended, though at this point there was little he could do, say or ask her that would offend her. “We could just get shirts that say master and slave.”

“Yeah, but who gets to where the one that says master?”

“Me.”

He tickled her. “I don’t think so.”

She kissed him. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“You’ll find a dress,” Jack said. “Your sister will sniff one out.”

Josie laughed. “I’m sure you’re right. Mim is the bargain goddess.”

He looked at her seriously. “Don’t worry so much about it being a bargain, babe. Get something you want.”

That touched her, and she stroked his cheek. “Spending oodles of cash on a dress I’ll wear one time only is not really my thing. I’ll find a dress. Don’t worry. But thanks.”

“I just want you to have everything you want,” he said, and his sentiment made her throat close with emotion.

“I do.” Josie kissed him again.

This time, his lips parted to accept her tongue. His hands moved restlessly along her back, then reached up to tug the band out of her hair and send it tumbling around her shoulders.

He fingered a long auburn strand, then rubbed it across his face. “Your hair always smells so good.”

She smiled. “Yours, too.”

He tickled her again. “Be quiet, slave.”

“Make me.”

He grabbed her wrists and pinned them together in one large hand, then kissed her again as he pushed her hands down between them, against his crotch. “See what you do to me?”

She let