by Thorne, Elle
“I don’t know. I need to get to my apartment. My boyfriend…”
* * *
Jax paused. Was she seriously going to say anything about Scotty? He had moved out. He had left her a note saying he had to go. That was it.
She hadn’t even had time to grieve, but, truthfully, she wasn’t sure she wanted to grieve.
She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to celebrate.
He’d added no value to her life.
She looked at the drop-dead gorgeous stranger in front of her. It wasn’t like she was agreeing to marry him. Not that she would. She didn’t want anyone her parents liked.
Seems like you liked him just fine until you found out your parents do, too.
She shut that inner voice up.
She did. She more than liked him. There was an inexplicable chemistry between them that, whether she was tired, angry, or confused, she couldn’t deny.
He watched her. Mouth set in a straight line, stunning smile gone. Clearly, he was waiting for her answer.
“What do you want to talk about? Where do you want to go?”
“The debt you owe me. We could go to my place.”
His place? Is he serious? “What debt?”
“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet, and you’ve already forgotten you agreed to give me anything I want?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You said you owed me. It’s implied.”
“You know I didn’t mean that.”
That current flashed through her again at the mention of that. Because that didn’t sound so bad at all—not with this guy. This guy with the broad shoulders, the flat stomach, rippling arms and a chest that needed to be licked in the worst way. That didn’t sound bad at all. That sounded like a damned fine way to forget Scotty—not that she was having much of a problem, it seemed.
He studied her, his lips curled into an amused smile. He was reading her emotions, and she knew she’d never been good at hiding them. Poker was not a game she’d ever win.
“If you didn’t mean that—” He flashed her a sexy little smile. “—then what is it you meant when you said you owed me?”
“You’re picking on me.” She pushed his chest. Damn, he’s as solid as he looks.
“You hope I am.” He started walking down the sidewalk, away from the hotel.
She had no idea where he was going. And those long legs of his were out-striding her big time. She struggled to catch up. Reaching him, she said, “No. seriously. I’m not that kind of girl.”
I’d be that kind of girl with you, though. She couldn’t say that. The kiss of a blush began to rise to her cheeks. She knew the warmth only too well. She tried to think of something else, anything else to keep from turning redder.
“I’ll do the same thing for you that you did for me,” she conceded.
“What?” He stopped and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Sure. I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend to help you out.”
“Who said I need that kind of help?” He started walking again.
Damn. Again, he was outpacing her. She kicked it into gear, following him closely, ready to sidestep and come up alongside him.
He stopped suddenly.
With an “Ooomph,” she slammed into his back.
Rafe turned around, caught her as she was losing her balance, and pulled her close to his body. She couldn’t have gotten a sheet of paper between them.
“Maybe that’s not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all. Twenty-four hours, you’re my pretend girlfriend. Deal?”
“Deal,” she said, and wondered what the hell she was getting herself into.
Chapter Twelve
Rafe pulled his Porsche into a driveway and waited for an iron gate to open. The black asphalt-covered private road, with its perfectly manicured lawn and impeccable topiaries, was a dead giveaway. Jax fought the urge to shake her head. She really should have known.
Rafe’s family had money. Lots of it.
Her first instinct was to reject both him and it. She’d spent so many years trying to push away anything resembling a social status it had become second nature. She didn’t want to chase that stuff. Those things mattered to her mother, and she didn’t want to be her mother.
She clenched her hand into a fist, keeping it low, between her body and the door, so he wouldn’t notice. This was frustrating. If she pushed his wealth and money away, then she’d be pushing him away, too.
She didn’t want to push him away.
Rafe slowed the powerful Porsche and nosed it around a curve.
Jax gasped. It was a villa, straight out of an architectural magazine. Centuries-old pine trees surrounded the magnificent building painted in a sunny ochre color.
“This is your home?” She looked at Rafe, piercing him with an accusing glare.
“My family’s home.” He nodded. “Problem?”
Pursing her lips, she made a little face before she could catch herself. “No.”
He parked the car. “Ready?”
“So, I’m supposed to go in there and pretend I’m your girlfriend. That’s it?”
“For the weekend.”
“Bullshit. Hold on a minute. We said twenty-four hours.”
“It’s renegotiation time. You want me to be there when your parents return, right?”
She thought about it. He was a nice buffer that kept her mother off her back. “Maybe.” He did lend credibility to her life choices, at least as far as her parents were concerned. “Possibly.” She did want her mother off her back. That settled it. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“I want…” She stopped herself rephrased. “I’d like you to be there when my parents return.”
He lanced her with a gaze that crashed through her defenses. His eyes drank her in as if he was burning on the inside. “Then you’re mine for the weekend.”
The way he said it made a shiver run through her.
How’d he hijack my weekend like this?
The hell with hijacking her weekend. He’d hijacked her life.
And her heart.
* * *
Rafe escorted her from the car and took her up the stairs. He knew their villa was opulent and tried to see his home—his life—from her perspective, but it wasn’t easy. He’d never known a different lifestyle.
He opened the front door and held it for her.
“Why don’t you have security?” she asked.
No one could guard us better than we can guard ourselves. The only thing they were vulnerable to was other shifter attacks. No one had ever dared take on the Tiero family on their own turf, and Rome was a Tiero stronghold.
Rafe heard voices long before Jax would have. He recognized Vax’s and Callie’s.
At that moment it struck him.
This was the first time Rafe had thought of or heard Callie’s voice and he’d had no reaction to it at all.
His tiger snarled. He’d always insisted Rafe was wrong to pine for her, that she wasn’t the one who was fated for them.
Yeah, yeah.
Rafe didn’t feel like dealing with his tiger’s condescending attitude today. He was ready to admit he’d been wrong.
He reached for Jax’s hand as they approached the threshold to the living area. She didn’t react to him, though she did give him a look that seemed to ask if they really had to take it to this extreme.
She might have given him that look, but he could feel her pulse. It sped up. And that wasn’t out of fear or anger. He could scent her desire.
Where her fingers touched his, it felt like his flesh was on fire. His mind went back to that tattoo on her neck and how similar the tiger was to his own tiger, deep within him.
Rafe rounded the corner, braced for whatever might happen. Jax was a wild card. Who knew what the fiery little pistol might say? He also had no idea how his father would deal with his pretend girlfriend.
Pretend, hell. He wished it was more than pretend.
Vax’s and Callie’s open-mouthed express
ions greeted him the moment they laid eyes on Jax. He tried to imagine what they saw when they laid eyes on her.
Black hair, crimson fingernails, sandaled feet with toes of the same crimson, though every other toe had been painted in a shiny black.
Silver toe rings on her toes.
Remnants of red lipstick.
She was in another pair of equally tight black pants. Her peasant blouse hung low off her shoulders, displaying their creamy roundness and highlighting the equally creamy flesh making up a set of plentiful breasts.
Jax was the image of I don’t care what you think of me, I love life. She was rebelliousness personified. Her image practically screamed a joie de vivre that was far from prevalent in Rafe’s life.
Damn. I had no idea what I was missing.
Vax rose to his feet; Callie, too. Their eyes traveled up and down Jax’s body.
Rafe bristled. The idea they might judge her didn’t sit well with him. There was no way he’d allow that.
“Hi,” Callie said.
Vax smiled. “I’m Vax, Rafe’s older brother. This is Callie.” He put his hand on his mate’s belly. “And this is little Vax.”
“Jaclyn Vasquez.”
Rafe did a double take at her. “Call her Jax. She hates Jaclyn.”
Jax laughed. Her laugh was like a secret handshake that only the two of them got, a low sound coming from her chest that traveled straight to his heart. And his johnson.
Jax held her hand out, shaking Vax’s then Callie’s. “Congratulations.” She indicated Callie’s midriff. “Boy, I presume?”
“Boy,” Vax said.
“Maybe not,” Callie corrected him.
Vax laughed. “We’ll see.”
“Others say differently.” Callie shook her finger at him.
“Who dares defy me?” Joy colored Vax’s voice.
Rafe stopped to study his brother. He had never seen him this happy. He’d never known his brother had this side to him. The only side Rafe had ever seen was Vax’s anger.
And all of it was because of their father.
Rafe admired the way Vax was with Callie, the love he clearly had for his mate.
It struck Rafe he’d never really thought of any of this, he’d been so wrapped up in the feelings he’d thought he had for Callie.
Rafe glanced at Jax. She studied him as if she was in his head and could discern what he was thinking.
“We’re going out to the gazebo.” He pulled Jax’s hand, leading her to the French doors a few yards away.
A feminine cough caught his attention, and he snapped his head to the right. In a chaise lounge on the far side of the room, Maia was reclining. Her pale skin and ethereal beauty and stillness almost made her look like a statue. She was exquisite, a curvy beauty that was unparalleled, sure, but her remoteness made it hard to have a friendship with her.
“Hey,” Rafe said to her.
Her countenance had a measure of warmth then she glanced at Jax and the warmth dropped several dozen degrees. Her eyes traveled over Jax’s casual sexiness, so different from Maia’s own aloof brand of sexual appeal.
Rafe stiffened. He had no problem helping Maia out with a job and a place to stay, but he wasn’t going to have Jax treated wrongly. She got enough of that shit from her parents. And anyone who bothered to learn what Jax was about would find a wholesome, wonderful, amazing woman who’d clearly been through enough shit.
He tugged on Jax’s hand, not bothering to introduce her to Maia.
Chapter Thirteen
Since she’d gotten out of his car, Jax had felt like she was starring in an episode of The Twilight Zone. No, not an episode; more like a whole season’s worth of it.
A feeling of something much more than jealousy flooded through her.
“Who’s that?” she asked once they’d gone out the French doors onto a patio that had probably cost more than some people’s homes.
“My brother and Callie.”
“Right. I got that.” Her voice dripped sarcasm. “The dark-haired ice queen.”
“Maia.”
“She’s your…ex? Sister?”
“None of the above.”
The pool, Olympic-sized she was sure, spread out in front of them, surrounded by the kind of lawn chairs that said anything but “disposable.” They looked to be of a durable metal with plush upholstered cushions.
On the far side of the pool, in the center of a lawn that resembled green velvet, a stone gazebo topped with wood beams covered with ivy beckoned.
They meandered slowly toward the welcome shade. The bright sunlight made Jax wish she had sunglasses.
“So, if she’s not your ex or your sister, then who is she?”
“She’s a guest. She also works at one of our hotels.”
“She’s not very friendly. Or is that just me?”
“Maia’s quiet. She doesn’t talk to anyone. None of us really know much about her.”
“So, why is she a guest?”
“It’s a long story. And to be very honest with you, it’s not worth our time.”
“Well, it was clear she wasn’t happy to see me. So…”
“Why does my pretend girlfriend for the weekend care?” His voice had a laugh in it.
Joke or not, that stung. She bit back the hurt. She was used to being told shit that stung, and she wasn’t going to react to it. The bridge of her nose burned like it always did when she became angry. Tears were the only way she could let her emotions out, but Jax pushed the tears and the pain away.
“Your pretend girlfriend doesn’t give a shit.”
“Don’t be like that.” He held on to her hand and took a seat on the low stone wall.
Jax wondered why he hadn’t released her hand. It wasn’t like anyone from his family was watching. She didn’t want to begin analyzing why she hadn’t pulled her hand away. So, why did he need a pretend girlfriend? Or did he have a girlfriend already and Jax was just serving some other mysterious purpose?
“So, why do you need a pretend girlfriend? Am I here to piss Maia off? To make her think you have someone?” A lump settled in her throat.
Rafe’s face turned hard. His aquiline nose, that beautiful profile was marked with anger. His jaw muscles worked.
“What?” The single word carried the weight of a lethal weapon. “Do I seem like the kind of guy to deal in that kind of duplicity?”
Jax stepped back. It was as if he’d physically assaulted her, so strong was the reaction she had to his question. He was insulted.
“No,” she whispered. Why do I have to react with such venom? And is it any of my business? I’m not his girl.
And as far as Rafe knew, she still had feelings for Scotty. She didn’t allow the smile of derision to cross her face at the idea of still having feelings for Scotty. He was like a distant memory.
She closed her eyes against the accusation in his. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Jax.” His voice had changed.
Her eyes flew open.
“Don’t say it.” He stood. “I’d be lying if I said I don’t have the same… I’d be lying if I didn’t say I…”
His face told her what his lips couldn’t. The indigo passion of his eyes reached deep into her, into the place she’d never let anyone enter.
Jax rose to her feet. She wasn’t a wallflower. Not with him. She wasn’t a doormat. Not with him. Her gaze stayed locked on his. In the depths of his blue intensity, a golden glow flared. It was as if that was a sign that what she was thinking of doing was so very damned right.
She put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down until his lips were so close she’d have sworn she felt the heat emanating from them. She pressed her mouth against his with a tenderness that belied the ache she felt for him.
When had this thing started? How had it caught her so off-guard?
More importantly, why did it feel like it had been there forever? Why was it as if there had never been another man in her life? Like he was the missing puzzle piece?<
br />
She felt his breath as he exhaled, warm with a hint of spice, like cinnamon or something exotically Mediterranean. It caressed her face and her lips. She breathed it in then held her breath as if she was holding him captive. She kept that breath, that essence of him, trapped in her lungs, wishing she could trap him in her heart the same way.
His hands alit on her hips, gently, as if she was a wild animal he didn’t want to scare away with any sudden movement. One traveled up her back slowly, leaving shivers behind. The shivers fanned out completely, covering her body with goose bumps.
She stood on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his. If she had to let him out of her life one day soon, she didn’t want to go away without this, at the very least. She didn’t want to think about spending the rest of her life wondering what if…
She didn’t count on her tongue deciding it had a mind of its own. She couldn’t stop herself. She traced the tip of her tongue along his lips then thrust it into his mouth.
His groan was the permission she needed, the combination to the vault. He pulled her tight against his body, his muscles unyielding to her soft curves. The passion in her heightened when his erection pressed against her, demanding, needing, throbbing.
His large hands lowered, cupping her ass and pulling her upward into his kiss.
The kiss had indeed become his. With another groan that revealed even more of his desire, he took control of her. Her hands made their way down over those bulging shoulders to a chest that rippled. She dug her nails into his flesh, wishing his shirt wasn’t between them.
A base and inexplicable yearning took over. Her moan matched his as their tongues danced together, meeting, challenging, taking, and giving.
Rafe’s tiger roared within him, urging him to take her, to couple bond with her. Rafe pushed the tiger back. It was too early. They hadn’t talked about anything. She knew nothing about him, and he wasn’t willing to make her his forevermore if she didn’t know what she was getting into.
And yet the tiger kept insisting he knew what he was doing, that he knew she’d accept them both.
Her lips were sweet, sweeter than the fire-hot temper she’d let him see a few times. He wanted this woman. Fire and ice. He loved the dichotomy of her, the two different extremes that brought out the passion in both of them.
