The Billionaire's Fantasy: Jaiven Rodriguez (Forbidden Book 2)

by Kate Hewitt

  Chelsea shook her head slowly, her hands on her hips. “Maybe you’ve forgotten your roots.”

  “You’re saying this to me?”

  Chelsea deflated then, her shoulders sagging. “No, of course not. It’s just… Why don’t you give him a chance?”

  She could choke, Louise thought, on the irony. “A chance at what, Chelsea? Getting in my pants? Because I’m not sure Jaiven Rodriguez is interested in much else. He doesn’t exactly have ‘commitment’ tattooed on his forehead.” Even if he had sexy tattoos elsewhere. Even if he’d already told her he cared about her. She was, Louise knew, relying on assumptions and stereotypes because she was too afraid to admit the truth.

  Chelsea finally had the grace to look a little abashed. “Maybe he just needs to find the right woman,” she said and Louise didn’t answer.

  What if he’d found the right woman? What if it was me?

  “All right, then.” Chelsea gave her a challenging stare. “Maybe you just need to have a fling.”

  Oh, the irony. So thick Louise could barely breathe. “I had one, remember? And it didn’t work out so well. I don’t need a repeat, Chelsea.” And especially not with the same man.

  But what about something different? What about something real?

  “Right.” Her sister looked disappointed, and Louise took pity on her.

  “Look, Chelsea, I know it’s all unicorns and rainbows for you and Alex, but that doesn’t mean I can launch into a happily-ever-after with the nearest available guy.” Her throat went a little tight and she swallowed, made herself continue. “I appreciate that you want me to be happy, but I’m not even sure I’m ready for a relationship.”

  “Louise, it’s been ten years since—”

  “I know,” she said quickly. “Trust me, I know. But I can’t rush my feelings.” And the fact that Jaiven’s behavior had triggered her own shame and guilt so easily made her realize she wasn’t there yet. Wasn’t healthy yet. But maybe she never would be.

  The thought was incredibly depressing. She’d thought she’d moved on, had healed, but this thing with Jaiven was showing her how she hadn’t. How much she needed to.

  And how are you ever going to get over one bad relationship, if you’re too scared to try for another?

  Leaving that question unanswered, she smiled as she patted her sister’s hand. “But I really do appreciate you looking out for me. Just ease up a bit, okay? Enjoy your own happiness.”

  Chelsea nodded, managing a smile back although she still looked undecided. As if one good push might bring Louise and Jaiven together forever.

  Louise suppressed a sigh. God save her from smug couples.

  Even so, as they headed back into the dining room, her sister’s words did an irritating replay through her brain.

  She wasn’t a snob. She hadn’t forgotten her roots. How could she, when the mistakes of her past haunted her every day? Yet Jaiven had, the other night, accused her of basically the same thing, claiming she wouldn’t date a man like him.

  And maybe he was right. Not because he was from the Bronx, or had a stupid tattoo, but because he made her feel too much. Care too much. She’d wanted someone safe and boring, but where was the joy in that? Did she really want to spend the rest of her life with someone who made her yawn, whoever he was?

  She sat down across from Jaiven; he looked bland and inscrutable, and also very hot. Very sexy. His tattoo peeked out from the collar of his shirt, and his hair was a little ruffled, as if he’d driven his hand through it. His jeans strained across his powerful thighs.

  Okay, maybe she should stop looking at his crotch.

  No man had ever made her feel as he did. Yet it wasn’t his body or his sexual prowess she was thinking of now; it was the man himself. The boy from the Bronx who had made his own multimillion-dollar business. The man who had made her laugh, but who had also made her believe in herself. Believe she was beautiful and bold, sexy and confident. The man who had darkness and pain inside him that she didn’t understand, but was beginning to think she might want to, as scary a prospect as that was.

  Jaiven had given her so much. And yes, he’d hurt her too, but did she really want to throw it all away because of one regrettable action? One bad choice? Was she that much of a coward?

  “Louise? Hello?” Chelsea leaned forward and tapped her on the side of the head. Louise blinked the world back into focus.

  “Sorry, I was a million miles away. What’s up?”

  “We were just asking if you’d seen that movie, you know the one with…”

  With effort Louise forced herself back into the conversation. She could feel Jaiven’s gaze on her, even though he wasn’t looking directly at her. He was aware of her, just as she was of him. That, Louise suspected, would never go away. She’d spent a miserable week trying to forget him, and had failed utterly. He was more in her thoughts than ever.

  And she knew then that she couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t get on with her life without trying to understand Jaiven and exploring what could happen between them. She needed to be that strong. That brave.

  Which was, Louise acknowledged as she gave her sister a shaky smile, the most terrifying thoughtshe’d ever had.

  Chapter Eleven

  BY THE TIME the dinner with Alex and Chelsea wound down, Jaiven was feeling both tense and dispirited. He couldn’t stand much more of sitting across from Louise without being able to touch her, much less even admit he’d known her before tonight. Slept with—quite a few times—before tonight.

  And no matter how coolly rational he tried to be, it soured his gut and hurt his heart that he had to play this charade yet again. Memories of showing up at Emily’s front door, facing her father’s stern stare and then, worst of all, her blank look as she gazed right through him, churned through him.

  I don’t know him, Dad. Isn’t he just the delivery boy?

  This time he’d been the one to choose to pretend. Better him than Louise looking right through when she’d walked through that door, blank-faced and cold-eyed. And even though it had been his decision, it still hurt.

  The whole damn evening hurt. Sitting across from Louise. Making ridiculous chitchat. Not being able to touch her. Knowing she’d walk away at the end of evening—again.

  Accepting that was how it had to be.

  Yet as it turned out, Jaiven ended up offering to walk her home. Alex and Chelsea had orchestrated it not-so-subtly, insisting it was a nice night and Louise shouldn’t bother with a cab—but neither should she walk the fifteen blocks uptown alone.

  Louise rolled her eyes at them both and gave in with some grace. “Fine, fine,” she said, and they both stepped into the elevator of Chelsea’s building as Alex and Chelsea smiled benevolently—and hopefully—from their front door. As soon as the doors closed, the tension ratcheted.

  He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, rolled his shoulders in a useless attempt to ease the muscles knotted there. He hated how awkward the silence was; a few weeks ago he would have teased Louise about fantasizing about sex in an elevator. It was actually something he’d never done. A few weeks ago, he mused, he would have made it a reality with Louise.

  The current reality was a far cry from that. They both stood taut and still, staring straight ahead as the elevator plunged from the penthouse to the lobby. Jaiven finally broke the silence.

  “Well, that was fun.”

  Louise slid him a sideways glance, her mouth quirking slightly. “A laugh a minute.”

  “Do you think they knew how obvious they were being?”

  “I think they’ve got the rose-tinted glasses of lurve on.”

  Jaiven felt his mouth kick up in an answering smile. “You mean rose-tinted blinders.”

  “Exactly.”

  The doors pinged open and they walked into the building’s lobby, all chrome and marble and modern sculpture. The doormen murmured good-night and the automatic doors swished open; they stepped out into a sultry spring night.

  “You don’t have to
walk me home,” Louise said. She was fiddling with the strap of her purse and not quite looking at him.

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Really, I can manage.”

  “That can of pepper spray again? I’m heading uptown anyway. I’ll walk you.” Belatedly, with an icy jolt of realization, he wondered if she didn’t want him to walk her because she was afraid. Afraid of him. Afraid that he might take her to her door and treat her the same way he did last time he was there.

  The possibility nearly brought bile to his throat. Yet why shouldn’t she be afraid?

  “Okay,” she said quietly, and they started heading up West End Avenue.

  It was a beautiful night, the air warm and silky-soft. The city was settling down, the streets emptying out of taxis and the sidewalks mostly clear. As they turned toward Broadway people spilled out of cafés and bars, their laughter drifting on the night air.

  “So what was your reaction when they told you I was coming?” Louise asked, her voice determinedly light. “Were you shocked?”

  “Surprised, yes,” Jaiven answered, choosing his words with care. A simple conversation was starting to feel like a minefield now. “But pleased too, if I’m honest.”

  “Pleased?” She sneaked a surprised glance at him and he shrugged.

  “I’m glad to see you again.” It was a simple truth honestly stated, and what surprised him most of all was that it didn’t make him wince or cringe.

  What was happening to him? How was he changing? Soon he was going to start spouting poetry or some crap like that. And how stupid would that be, considering Louise had already told him, more than once, that it was over?

  And yet he cared about her more than ever now.

  Louise didn’t respond to his simply stated truth, and when he glanced at her he saw she was staring straight ahead, her expression impossible to read.

  Realization doused him icily. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? I’m glad to see you again. As if he’d expected her to return the feeling.

  Not in a million years. Not now. Not ever.

  Letting out a low sigh, he started walking more quickly.

  *

  I’m glad to see you again.

  Louise didn’t doubt the sincerity of Jaiven’s words. She couldn’t, not when she’d heard and even felt the throb of it. Not when the sum of all the parts of him—the sincerity, the regret, the desire, the anger—made her realize afresh that this man was a little more complicated, a little deeper than she’d first let herself believe. And she wanted to find out how and why.

  They were three blocks away from her apartment. Three short blocks away from having to decide just what she was going to do with this realization. She’d been turning over the options all evening, since she’d acknowledged to herself that no matter what had happened between them, she still cared about Jaiven. He cared about her.

  What that meant—what it could mean—was too much to think about right now.

  A block passed in silence, and Louise’s steps instinctively slowed. She wasn’t ready to make a decision. To risk her dignity, her soul, her heart. Jack’s voice screamed in her ear, louder than ever, and she had to fight the urge to clap her hands over her ears to drown out his insults. She didn’t believe them anymore. She didn’t.

  Her heel caught in a grate and she pitched forward, letting out a helpless shriek until Jaiven’s arms came around her, as strong as steel bands and holding her just as securely.

  Louise let out a shuddering breath. Jaiven righted her, then released her.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, jerkily, as she tried to keep her body from trembling. She wasn’t okay. She wasn’t remotely okay, because even just contemplating inviting Jaiven upstairs was bringing back the ghosts of her past, loud and relentless, so that she felt surrounded. Overwhelmed.

  That wasn’t Jaiven’s fault, she knew. It was hers. She needed to shut those voices up. Forever.

  She drew a shaky breath and forced herself to keep walking.

  Another block slid by in a blurred motion of color and sound. They turned a corner; her building loomed ahead. Jaiven’s steps started to slow.

  Louise whirled toward him suddenly, too fast. “Do you want to come upstairs?”

  He looked nonplussed for a moment, then surprise flickered across his features. “Upstairs?” he repeated, scanning her face as Louise felt a blush wash over her.

  “I mean, for a drink. Just…” She didn’t finish that sentence, just gaped at him like a landed fish. Perfect. Such a good way to handle things.

  Jaiven was looking at her closely, as if trying to find some clue from her face. “Do you want me to?” he finally asked quietly.

  Louise shrugged, the movement more like a twitch. “I asked, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Well, do you or don’t you?” She sounded petulant now. Even better.

  “I do.” He smiled then, the corner of his mouth quirking up almost shyly.

  “Okay, then,” Louise said, and started fumbling for her keys. Her hand was shaking. She willed it to stop, the key digging hard into her fingers. She could feel Jaiven watching her, and that just made her even more nervous.

  “Louise…”

  “I’m good.” She spoke quickly as she jammed the keys into the lock and turned. They stuck—of course—and she wrestled with the door for a fraught few seconds before it finally opened and she stepped into the darkened vestibule.

  They walked up six flights of stairs in silence, the tension ratcheting higher with each flight. Another wrestle with her front door, the keys jamming, her hand shaking again.

  Damn, but this was hard.

  The door finally swung open and she stepped inside. Mallow jumped from the hall table into her arms, and she let out a shriek of surprise before clutching the cat to her.

  Memories assailed her like a hailstorm. Jaiven standing here, so angry. So knowing. Kissing her as a punishment, as revenge…

  “Maybe I should go.” Jaiven’s voice was quiet and sad from behind her. Louise turned.

  “No, don’t.”

  “Okay,” Jaiven said after a moment, and closed the door behind him.

  She let out a slow breath and put Mallow on the floor. Her cat mewled plaintively and wound through her legs, but Louise ignored him. Focused on Jaiven, who was still standing by the half-open door, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his face inscrutable, his shoulders tense.

  “Do you want a drink?’”

  He shrugged. “If you’re having one.”

  “I think,” Louise said, “I’ll have a cup of herbal tea. But I’m guessing that wouldn’t be your preference.”

  He let out a rusty-sounding laugh. “I think I’d rather drink my own piss.”

  She made a face. “Lovely.”

  “Sorry.” He looked almost abashed, and again she wondered about him. He always seemed so confident and cocky, even arrogant. Yet in moments like these she saw the uncertainty and vulnerability underneath the hard-ass attitude and it made him even more attractive. More approachable.

  “How about coffee?” she suggested. “Or a beer?”

  “Coffee’s fine.”

  She busied herself in the kitchen while Jaiven stood in the doorway, his shoulder against the jamb, and watched her. Mallow came in and twisted between his legs and absently he bent down and stroked the cat.

  “Do you like cats?” Louise asked, and Jaiven raised his eyebrows, surprised.

  “I don’t not like them. I never had pets growing up.”

  And that, Louise supposed, was as good an entry as any. “You know, I don’t really know anything about you,” she said. “I mean, your childhood. You grew up in the Bronx…”

  He straightened, his face and body tense, his hands back in his pockets. “Yeah.”

  “And your mother comes to your place for dinner,” she prompted, but Jaiven wasn’t giving anything away.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have sib
lings?”

  “One. An older brother.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s a pediatrician.”

  “Interesting.” It wasn’t that interesting, but she was desperate, trying to make small talk because she wasn’t quite ready to start saying things that mattered, and because she really did want to get to know him. Not necessarily how many siblings he had, although that was a start.

  She wanted to know why he thought he wasn’t good enough for her. What secrets and pain he hid, because she knew there was something. She felt it the same way she felt it in herself. But how did you go about asking someone to spill their soul?

  Especially when you didn’t want to do it yourself?

  The kettle started to shrill and Louise reached for it. At least now she could focus on making their drinks.

  “Why did you ask me up here, Louise?” Jaiven asked quietly. “I don’t think it was for small talk.”

  Her hand slipped on the kettle’s handle and she swore softly under her breath before she sucked her burned finger.

  “Put it under cold water,” Jaiven advised, and gently he reached for her hand, brought it to the tap.

  Louise tried to focus on the stream of cold water running over her fingers rather than Jaiven’s hand encircling her own. A gentle, nonsexual touch, and yet it still lit up her body like a torch.

  “So?” he prompted, and she knew he wouldn’t let it go. She shouldn’t want him to.

  She took a deep breath, still having no idea what to say. “I’ve missed you,” she blurted, and Jaiven’s hand tightened briefly around her own.

  She swallowed. “I mean…” She thought desperately of how she could claw back some dignity, and came up with nothing.

  Jaiven reached across and turned off the tap. The ensuing silence felt like a thunderclap. He let go of her wet hand and straightened. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said, and her insides writhed and jumped like a landed fish.

  “The fantasy sex, you mean,” she said, and he shook his head.

  ‘No, although that was pretty damn good. The whole package.”

  “There was no whole package,” she said. “There was just sex.” And maybe if she kept telling him that, she’d start believing it.