by Juniper Hart
“What was that about?” he asked, peeling off his own gloves. Harley glanced at him and realized that Jordan was genuinely confused.
“Haven’t you talked to James lately?” Harley asked, throwing a towel at his student.
“Not since my last fight with Giles. I think he thinks I’m still mad about the money thing. What happened?” Jordan quickly wiped his face, turning his full attention to Harley.
“Your last match against Pauly Piper moved you up in the ranks. You’re fighting Xander Jones next month. You know what that means.”
Jordan’s eyes widened, his face twisted in shock. Harley grinned to himself. If Jordan won against his next four opponents, he would be taken seriously, given a pay raise, and have a real chance at heading into state MMA championships. From there, the Ultimate Fighting Championships were at his fingertips.
Jordan stared at Harley dubiously, excitement exploding on his face.
“What? Seriously? That’s incredible!” Impulsively, he hugged the older man, and Harley returned his embrace sincerely. Jordan had become like a son to him over the past years, and every victory he claimed felt like a victory for him also.
He reminds me so much of me at his age, Harley thought ruefully when the hug broke. I hope he doesn’t succumb to the evils I did. If he can keep his head in the game and his nose out of temptation, he’ll be a star.
“Ready to grab lunch?” he asked, tilting his head toward the door, but Jordan was grabbing his gym bag. He paused and glanced warily at his trainer.
“No… uh, I can’t…” he stuttered. “I… uh… I have to be somewhere.”
Disappointment overwhelming him, Harley nodded understandingly. He should get used to being brushed off. Soon, Jordan was not going to have time for anyone, least of all him.
“No problem. We’ll do it another time,” he said, but as he watched Jordan leave, he was again filled with the sense of unease which had been plaguing him about the boy.
Something is distracting him. It better not be what I think it is.
“What? That’s amazing news!” Samantha squealed, throwing her arms around him as he stood in the threshold. Slightly embarrassed by her childlike demeanor, she quickly backed away and gestured him into the office. She shoved the door shut and pressed her lips against his passionately.
Of course he’s going all the way. I never had any doubt about him. It was startling how much his victories felt like hers in such a short time, but Samantha didn’t question it. That’s what being a mate is about. We feel like we’re part of one another. We’re one and the same.
Jordan responded with fervor, almost knocking her off her feet as she fell backward. Samantha rewrapped her hands about his neck and returned his kiss.
“Mm… let’s get out of here,” Jordan murmured in her ear hotly. Goosebumps lined her neck, and she shivered with pleasure.
“I wish,” she replied. “Few more hours. I’ve got a ton of work to do.”
“Yeah? Then back to your place?” he urged. The party had been two weeks ago, and they had spent every moment together inside the office possible. Jordan had been reprimanded for neglecting his duties twice, but he didn’t seem to care. She was just as addicted to him as he was to her.
“Your place,” she argued. Jordan found himself scowling.
“I thought your husband was away for the week on business,” he snapped, irritated. “What difference does it make if we go to your place?”
Samantha placed her hands on him placatingly, gnawing on the insides of her cheeks. She still hadn’t told him the truth about Marco, as much as she wanted to.
“I live in a condo, Jordan. I can’t risk the neighbors seeing us,” she pleaded. “Try to understand.”
Jordan fully pushed her away. “Yeah, I understand. It’s all fun and games that everyone in the office knows we’re hooking up, but God forbid the neighbors see anything. I thought you were in love with me, Sam. You’re going to leave him, anyway. Why can’t I come to your place for once?”
Samantha lost her contented expression and glared at Jordan, annoyed that he was bringing this to her now. Dammit, just be patient, Jordan. In a few weeks, we’ll be as open as you want. Until then… To be honest, Samantha hadn’t told Marco the truth, either. She had no idea how he was going to react when he learned she had a boyfriend. He won’t care as long as we go through with this marriage. That’s all he’s worried about.
Jordan gritted his teeth to stop himself from adding anything else, and Samantha sighed, wishing she could say something to make him understand without blowing everything. Marco was obviously a bone of contention in their relationship, and Jordan was finding it increasingly difficult to hide his sentiments. He didn’t want to share Samantha, and despite her constant assurances that she was not in love with Marco, it was clear that Jordan was beginning to have his doubts.
Samantha nervously stared at her hands, wondering, not for the first time, if she’d gotten in over her head with all this. Maybe she should just call their affair off until after the wedding. She raised her head to meet Jordan’s hurt eyes, and he balked as though he had read her mind.
“It’s okay. My place is fine,” he muttered quickly. “Forget I said anything.”
Samantha turned her shining eyes upon him hopefully and eagerly grasped his hand. Just be patient, my love. Soon, you’ll understand everything.
“Yeah?” she asked. “You don’t mind?”
“Yeah,” he conceded, but she knew it was a lie. He minded very much—it was etched all over his face.
They embraced again, and Samantha buried her nose in his broad shoulder, inhaling his masculine pheromones.
Just a few more weeks, she promised him silently. By then, ICE will be off our case for good.
When Samantha Jagger was a little girl, she had the world at her feet.
She was lovely, sweet, and very bright. Her smile and big eyes endeared the hardest to win over, and her teachers saw her potential from a young age. She was often sent home with notes singing praise about her tenacity, her ability to absorb concepts, and her impeccable behavior.
It wasn’t until she was in junior high school that her instructors began to see an issue with their model student. Samantha was a pushover. The word “no” did not seem to exist in her vocabulary, and by the time anyone realized exactly how accommodating she was, it was almost irrevocable. The prepubescent boys in her class had discovered how eager she was to please and had fully taken advantage of her sweet, loving nature in the worst possible way.
By the time she had gotten into high school, she had earned herself a reputation as being “easy,” but to the surprise of her guidance counselors, she didn’t care. Her grades were extremely high, and if not for her promiscuity, she would have been beyond reproach. Yet when she was confronted in her freshman year by her mentor, Samantha had simply shrugged her shoulders.
“What’s the harm in a little bit of sex?” she had asked the stunned teacher. “In this day and age, it’s hardly taboo. I’m safe, and everyone does it. If it makes them happy, why should I care?”
“But—but does it make you happy?” Mr. Forrester had sputtered.
“It doesn’t make me unhappy,” Samantha had answered. No one had ever bothered to press the issue again. If someone had taken the time to dig a little deeper, they would have found a disturbing history attached to the child.
She was the oldest of four sisters. Aside from being reared in extreme poverty, the Jagger family had a hidden secret that was ancient and potentially very dangerous.
Her mother had been a barely functioning alcoholic who could never hold onto a job. They did not qualify for welfare; Jennifer Jagger had already scammed the government twice, so the family was forced to exist on the meager, inconsistent income Jennifer could wrangle. That did not seem to faze Samantha, who was resilient and adaptable to change. Even when she was forced to tend to her three younger sisters while Jennifer was barely keeping herself together, she considered everything a
n adventure or an experience.
Her sisters loved and admired her for all she’d done to keep them alive, and Samantha loved them back with equal fervor. She didn’t even resent her mother, her anger replaced by a deep pity for Jennifer, a lone fox who had never really fit in anywhere.
The real issue was Samantha’s daddy issues.
Jennifer loathed Samantha’s father, Andrew, and when the man was not doing time for some variation of robbery, he made himself scarce in their lives. To Andrew’s credit, he did attempt to contact his daughters when he was in between prison sentences, but Jennifer went out of her drunken way to ensure those visits were few and far between, often resorting to moving her children to keep them apart.
However, from a young age, Samantha had always believed that Andrew’s infrequent appearances were a result of something she had said or done. She learned to be perfectly obedient, catering endlessly to her father whenever he did materialize, learning about his passion for boxing, even though she secretly abhorred violence. Her sisters followed suit, as they always did, looking up to Samantha as if she were the embodiment of how to behave.
When Jennifer had temporarily sobered up and remarried, Samantha had already become the perfect handmaid to her new stepfather, Brent, who never had a kind word, even though Samantha ran herself ragged seeking his approval. Brent, an overbearing demon without a clue to the real heritage of his wife, didn’t know a good thing when he saw it.
In the mornings, Samantha would wake before anyone else, put on coffee, make breakfast, and more often than not, be gone before anyone else rose. After school, she gave up the opportunity for extracurricular activities and ran home to stay near Brent, lest he needed anything. She ironed his clothes herself and washed his jeans by hand. Over the years, his mistreatment of her did not diminish, and after Samantha’s two brothers were born, Brent ignored her altogether, again making her feel like she had done something wrong and desperately try to overcompensate, despite the fact that she was a product of failed parenting, nothing more.
It was just about that time when the boys at school began noticing her budding figure and lovely face. She found herself invited under the bleachers, where they would paw at her and call her “beautiful” and “sexy.” Never did Samantha feel that there was anything wrong with what was happening and for once felt wanted and cherished. She heard the rumors which the other girls spread about her. At first, she had been stung by their vicious words, but eventually, Samantha realized that she was genuinely apathetic to the way they felt about her. It wasn’t until she met Nigel that everything changed.
Nigel was an exchange student from England, and as soon as he stepped foot in Samantha’s biology class, she was instantly drawn to the stranger. When she thought about the experience later, she understood that Nigel shared a lot of similar characteristics to her biological father. He had aqua eyes and a spastic tuft of fine hair which Samantha found incredibly endearing. She had gone out of her way to be near him from the first day, and he had returned her attention immediately.
Nigel did not seem to know of her reputation, or if he did, he didn’t seem to care. He courted her properly and became Samantha’s first real love. They were together every moment they could spare. His need to be near her was exactly what she needed. Nigel would call her and speak to her for hours on the phone until Brent would inevitably burst into bedroom and snatch the phone from her hand, slamming the receiver onto its cradle, back when phones had such a thing.
Nigel would get into fights with other boys in the cafeteria when he felt they were staring at Samantha too long, and suddenly, he was accusing her of looking back at them. Overnight, Samantha was forbidden from talking to members of the opposite sex, and by Christmas of their junior year, Samantha had grown scared to voice an opinion, lest Nigel fly off the handle into a diatribe.
The first time Nigel punched her, Samantha told herself she deserved it. By this point, she knew better than to antagonize him, but she had made some snarky table turning comment about him looking at another woman. The blow had smashed into her cheek, though given her aptitude for healing, no one had ever seen the damage he’d caused her. In fact, her abrupt healing powers were the very reason that she had written off most of his never-ending abuse.
How bad could it be when she didn’t really feel any pain? How much damage was he really doing when she healed in minutes?
Still, Samantha was a smart girl, and she knew that being hit was not love. At the same time, she had never been wanted by someone as much as Nigel appeared to want her. The thought of being alone again, rejected by another man, was too much to bear. She endured the abuse, which became more and more frequent and harder and harder to hide from everyone, even when she healed so fast.
Her sisters took notice of her change in appearance and attitude, and for once, they no longer looked up to her.
When Nigel finally boarded the plane back to London in the summer, Samantha said a genuinely tearful goodbye to him and promised to visit the following summer. They exchanged passionate letters to one another until he stopped, and Samantha found herself alone again.
In her anguish, she sought the company of older men, men who seemed to appreciate her more than the ones her own age. Because of her insurmountable good looks, they flocked to her side, and soon, Nigel had been replaced by Rob. His fists were just as hard, but his apologies were heartfelt and followed with flowers, money, and promises to never do it again. Until the next time.
Rob stayed with Samantha until she turned eighteen and then decided that she was too old for him. Samantha, however, had realized that she never had to be alone, and so she found herself in the same situation with a different man. This abusive relationship was short-lived, as the second time he put his hands on her, he did it in a very public place, where someone called the police. It turned out that Dave was in violation of his parole.
She was never alone and got caught up in bad relationship after bad relationship.
When she met Marco, he had been in Washington for three years, working as a freelance consultant. He was originally from Rome. There was absolutely no romantic attraction between them, but for some reason, Marco found her irresistible, and Samantha, who had always been afraid of being alone, accepted his attention.
It was a dream come true for her at first. She spent the first three years of their relationship waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had not ever hit her, and while he could be crass and sometimes short-tempered, she began to relax, accepting that perhaps she belonged in his life. But she had never felt slightly attracted to him, and it took a very short time to see that he felt the same way about her.
Why does he stay with me? Samantha wondered, but she didn’t question it. The relationship turned into more a friendship, but they kept up the façade of being in a relationship. Being in a relationship, even if it wasn’t romantic, was comforting to Sam. She dated other men and he dated other women. She didn’t understand why he continued to call her his girlfriend, but having a companion was a comfort to her, so she never minded.
One day, he finally explained the truth to her.
“I’m in love with another woman.”
The shock had been unexpected, although she didn’t know why. They hadn’t touched one another romantically in years, nor did they sleep in the same bed.
“Then why don’t you marry her?” Samantha asked, dumbfounded and curious.
“Because I need to bring her here from Italy,” Marco explained. “And we both need visas. Now that I have lost my work visa, I really need your help.”
After the initial shock had worn off, Samantha had almost laughed at her stupidity. She had traded one abusive situation for another. Marco had groomed her, even without romance. Had he seen her vulnerability? Was that why he had targeted her? He had kept her around in case he ever needed her.
But the more she thought about what he was asking of her, she decided she could give that to him. His companionship had made her stronger. He had encouraged
her to finish college. He had encouraged her to apply for the job she now had. Sure, he was an asshole, but he did help get her life on the right track. Now, she realized it had all been to help him gain citizenship for him and his lover. She agreed to the fake marriage anyway.
Samantha had never questioned her commitment to Marco and their fake marriage. She suspected that he would look to obtain a divorce afterward, but that would still take years. When Marco brought his lover overseas, she could learn to live with that.
But all that had changed when she’d met Jordan Archer. She was never one to go back on her word, so she felt obligated to go through with the marriage. Marco had made her promise to never speak a word about their arrangement. He couldn’t risk being deported.
The second they had collided outside the bathroom, Samantha had been overcome with an emotion a thousand times stronger than the one she had experienced with Nigel in her teens. It was something deeper than simple physical attraction. There was an electromagnetic pulse coursing between them, some invisible force which seemed to connect them as if they had known each other in each one of their past lives. Only the Enchanted knew of this feeling. Mere mortals like Marco would never understand that level of intensity.
Samantha had tried desperately to ignore the growing attraction, but she was defenseless against Jordan. He represented everything that Marco was not. She was at a crossroad, though it was not one she was willing to upset, not when the government was overseeing her wedding.
Now that she was finally ready to let Marco go, she couldn’t. Not until they were officially married. Then she and Jordan could come clean with their relationship. She was completely in love with him, and as the days passed, she was falling deeper and deeper into the web of passion he had ensnared about her.
He was going to be so hurt to know she was still marrying Marco, yet she couldn’t back out now. It was not fair to Marco, and it would mean jailtime if ICE learned they had been perpetrating a fake marriage.
