by Anne Martin
“Oh, the pain to be filthy rich and not be able to show it off. You knew Trix before you married her. She’s not a money girl.”
“Neither are you. Oh, but I forget, your man’s a broke gambler.”
“Yes, he is. I’m not sure why you’re so skeptical. Do you think a Harvard graduate couldn’t become a reckless reprobate? Look at you?”
He grinned at me. “Thanks for reminding me. He said something about alligators? Lucy, go to Aunt Jezzie, okay? You’re going to have to teach her to ride when she’s a little older.”
He took off, after handing Lucy to me. She got big eyes like she was going to scream, but I climbed onto Sparkle’s back, holding Lucy firmly in front of me. I’d been riding before I could walk. I walked Sparkle carefully out of the barn, taking it slow and easy in case Trix came around and felt paranoid. She had weird safety things, like she’d let Lucy chew on car tires, because car tires were piled around her living room while she rebuilt an engine on the coffee table, but heaven forbid someone use a cell phone around her. Not that there was anything wrong with chewing on tires.
We rode around until she grew soft and curled up over my arm, asleep and sweet. When I came around the corner of what was apparently the former bocce court, Jackson and Horse were hip deep in a hole, shirts off, chests gleaming with sweat. I glanced at Trix where she stood, drinking something with ice and lemon while she watched her husband with a satisfied smile.
“She’s asleep,” I said before I focused my attention on Jackson. His tan back gleamed as his muscles pulled and stretched with every bite and throw of the shovel. He looked like someone who worked for a living. Horse was bigger, and more heavily muscled, but he didn’t look as natural with a shovel in his hands. Jackson worked methodically, efficiently.
“They’re having a competition about who can dig their side of the hole faster. They won’t say what the bet is, but I think your man’s going to win.” Trix gave me a sly smile. “He doesn’t look too shabby without a shirt.”
I blushed brightly and didn’t try to be Jezabel. “I know. Anyway, I’m going to take Lucy in. It’s time for her to go to bed, isn’t it?”
She shrugged and turned her attention back to the hole. “I’ve given up on trying to distinguish between night and day. Did Horse tell you I’m pregnant? He’s paranoid I’m going to go on a spree and do something more reckless than usual. It’s like he knows me.”
“Why don’t we talk about it after I put Lucy down?”
She held out her arms. “I’ll take her. You throw the horse back in its pen.”
“Stall.”
She grinned at me. “Same old Jezabel.”
I carefully handed over the sleeping angel. “If you say so. I don’t feel like I know who I am anymore.”
“Just wait until you get out of surgery. You’ll be really unbalanced.”
I snorted while she carried Lucy back into the house. Instead of putting Sparkle away, I sat there watching Jackson move shovelful after shovelful of dark soil. I’d never seen such good dirt in Texas. They must have really done something to get that bocce court in shape. That’s what I was thinking about, not the rounded muscle over his shoulder, or the way his narrow waist tapered beneath his jeans, darkened with sweat.
Jackson looked up at me and grinned. “Miss Jessie.”
Why was I blushing? “What’s the bet, Jackson?”
He shook his head. “It’s not a bet, it’s a wager.”
“Mm hm. Don’t stay out here all night. I’m making Trix cook her pasta.”
Horse grunted. “Don’t wear her out cooking. I’ve got my own plans for the evening. I’ve never seen you blush so much, Jezabel. Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to invite your fiancé without you.”
“Man-whore. Mind your manners. You’re in the presence of someone with class.”
“Don’t tell me you’re talking about Jack. I went to school with him. I know the kind of menagerie he had. I know that you like animals, Jezabel, but I think that even you would draw the line at bringing him into your bed.”
I gripped Sparkle’s mane. “Shut up, or I will trample you to death.”
“I haven’t broken a horse’s neck in a long time, but it won’t be the first.”
“Woah, woah,” Jackson said, raising his hands, looking from Horse to me. “Jessie, you don’t have to protect me from wicked influences like Nate. He was one of the more respectful members of our class. And I went through a phase where I did sleep around prolifically.”
I stared at him. “You went through a phase when you…”
He nodded soberly with those brown eyes that were way too sweet. “Grad school. I travelled and partied and did whatever I wanted with whoever was willing. There were a lot that were willing. I had a big boat. I don’t anymore. Sold it not too long ago. Nate was always skipping class and showing up to tests with his eyes swollen shut, but he still graduated with higher honors than I did. He’s smarter than he looks. Although not smart enough to not make a bet against someone who spent years digging canals in Africa.”
I stared at him, stomach churning. “Is that a euphemism? Digging canals?”
“No,” Horse said, getting back to shoveling. “He was always taking trips to clean up the water supply around the world. It was part of his degree, unlike the whoring. At least that’s what I assume.”
Jackson laughed and threw a shovel of dirt that hit Horse on the chest. “Oh, sorry, mate. Less talking, more digging.”
I stared at Jackson, but I felt sick and awful. I turned the horse and let her take her head, riding wherever she wanted to go. Of course Jackson had taken other lovers. Maybe he’d even had a mistress or two. I’d only been the one who had refused. I certainly wasn’t the only one. I knew that, didn’t I? It didn’t matter. So, why did it hurt so much?
Chapter 14
“What I find most fascinating about this whole thing, is that you can make our hardened Jezabel blush without even looking at her.”
I didn’t look at him. He was trying to distract me so that he’d win, I’d lose, and he’d be able to do what he wanted with the Astin Martin and the knowledge that he had about me that I preferred he keep to himself. Nathaniel David had always been a lurker in our society, living around the periphery in spite of his name, his family, his fortune. He’d been working during school instead of partying with my group of friends.
When I was in college, I’d written to Jessie every week without fail, but she’d made it clear that we were just friends, and so I didn’t see the need to stay home or study in the library every evening, at least not until my sister died. She’d wanted to party like her big brother. I’d gone to find Jessie to keep from falling apart, and I’d come back resolved to focus on my school with as much firmness and dedication she had. After a week of drowning in her love, I had no taste for anyone else, anything else. She could say we were just friends, could insist that she had to keep her grades up, that I couldn’t transfer to her school, that we could only see each other maybe once a year, but she couldn’t hide that she loved me, that she wanted me, that she ached for me the way I ached for her.
“The two of you are so cute together, so adorable. She hates rich SOB’s. Do you think she’d marry you if she knew what you are?”
“She’s not going to go through with it. This is a therapy wedding.”
He stopped shoveling and leaned on the handle. “I’ve done a lot in the realm of psychology, which is convenient because I married who I married, and it took me everything I had to get her to that point. What is marriage therapy?”
“We’re both getting closure from our long ago affair.”
He studied me, letting me get well ahead of him. He was clearly giving up on the bet. Convenient. I wanted his Bugatti, and his silence. Mostly his silence.
“That’s not therapy, it’s torment. Expensive torment. You had an affair with Jezabel Whiskey?”
“No. I had an affair with Jessie Strait of nowhere and no one. I took that as a sign that she’
d accept a position as my mistress instead of my wife.”
He started laughing until his eyes ran with tears.
“It isn’t that funny.”
He shook his head and pointed at me. “Oh, it is. I saw Jezabel break a man’s arm, another man’s nose, and knock another man unconscious. All these different men propositioned her. She is enraged by the idea of being bought and sold. Enraged. Jezabel makes Trix look like an angel when she loses her temper. My wife, Trix, she’s an incredible woman. It’s hard to get her attention if you aren’t a V-8, but if you do get it, she’ll never forget it. Jezabel is a different animal.”
“She’s not an animal.”
“She’s more comfortable around them than people. Men make her nervous and she covers up her nerves with brass. Trix is just brass. Jez is a fuzzy bunny with a murderous streak and the face of a porcelain doll. I figured she was all makeup, but once I saw her in the warehouse with her horses early, and that face, prettier without the effort, but more vulnerable, softer, sweeter. Also much more dangerous. What are you going to do with that streak of murderous when she understands that you set her up?”
“I’m not setting her up. She’s the one who kidnapped me and drove me into the desert.”
He grinned at me. “And what she’ll do when she finds out where all your money went? I’ve invested in your work, so I’m personally invested in its success, but if your failure means that you’re a more enticing prospect for a woman…”
“There are other ways to lose a fortune.”
“Not if your experiment works as well as I think it will.”
“It’s insane. All the professionals agreed that it was a fool’s experiment.”
“Yes, but they’re wrong.”
I grinned at him. “Your confidence is terrifying. That’s how you got your woman.”
“Balls and luck. Jezabel though, I wouldn’t know how to get under her skin and what to do once I got there.”
“Convenient, because you’re married to her best friend.”
“I don’t think you have any idea, either.”
“I got under her skin a long time ago, before she knew how to keep up her guard so well. As to what to do, I intend to be her friend.”
“Friend? What kind of friend?”
“The kind that watches out for her family and her well-being.”
His eyes narrowed. “Mm. She doesn’t look at you like that. She blushes when you don’t wear your shirt and can’t stop looking at you. The Jezabel I know would have whistled and said something shocking about how you look, but she wouldn’t have blushed.”
“You don’t know her.”
“Of course I don’t, but Trix does. She’s torn between ripping off your arms and giving you a hug for saving Jez from a lonely life without the kids and family that she so desperately wants. If you hurt Jez, Trix will hurt you. A lot.”
“Not you?”
He grinned and shook his head before climbing out of the hole. “Are you really putting gators in there?”
“It’s part of Jessie’s wedding wish list.”
“Hm. Maybe she’s going to shove you in there after the ceremony.”
I climbed out and brushed down my jeans. “Maybe so. I’ve wrestled a few gators.”
“I’ll bet you have. Why did you do the fighting thing?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Fighting thing?”
“Second year of grad school, you hired the best and worked hard. You didn’t actually get into any fights that I know of, so why pursue something at that point when you were also obsessively working on your thesis?”
“You’re too observant.”
“Probably. Does it have anything to do with Jez?”
“Do you think that she’d be impressed with a brawler the way that your wife is?”
“No. She wants a gambler.”
“She hates gamblers.”
“Because that’s what she wants. She’s comfortable with a man whose addiction is understandable. She gets it. Her dad was a gambler. I’m sure you know that.”
“How did you know that?”
He shrugged. “She’s mentioned it to Trix. Trix has been talking about Jez a lot lately. She’s talked about how Jez fights. It’s a motley mix of Judo, jiu-jitsu and blunt trauma. She’s been trained very well, but not in any kind of consecutive order. Like when you hired every kind of fighting instructor instead of specializing. It wouldn’t work for most people, but you’re motivated. Obsessive, you could say.”
I gripped his shoulder. “I needed to defeat a very talented fighter. It took me four years of training, four years of going against him until I won. You don’t need to mention that.”
“What did you win?”
I stared at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“You love your wife, your daughter, right? If one day, they disappeared without saying a word, what would you want to know most?”
He stared at me. “Where they were?”
I shook my head. “If they’re safe. If they’re happy. You can’t ask for any more than that because you’re the reason they left. You hurt, but you can’t blame them. You can’t ask to have them back, the only thing you can do is make sure they’re not suffering.”
He cleared his throat. “You sound pathetic. You went on this quest to find out if Jezabel was okay?”
I shrugged. “It gave me something to do.”
“Other than change the world. They’re thinking about nominating you for a Nobel peace prize if it works.”
“That would be inconvenient.”
“You don’t think she’d like that?”
“Do you?”
He studied me. “I don’t know. She was traumatized at the idea of you sleeping with another woman. That was interesting.”
“I was trying to let her go.”
“How did that work?”
“Well, I was obsessively working to find out that she was safe, so probably not terribly well. Over the years, you’ve become a better lover, right?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t think we’d go there during this conversation. One hopes.”
“Your first wasn’t the best, was it?”
He shook his head slightly. “So after all these times, you haven’t been able to displace her position as queen of your heart. I’ve seen her ride. The whole world wants to know what you know. Not me, of course. She’s too much like me.”
“You really think you live up to the hype? Your wife might disagree.”
He laughed and pounded my back. “Wearing a mask to protect the soft underbelly. Out in the spotlight so no one sees what’s going on in the shadows. Vulnerable to someone who might sell your love instead of holding it as priceless.”
I winced. “She can’t forgive me, can she?”
“She loves you.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “Tomorrow, she’s going to publicly humiliate me and I just hope that it’s enough for her to heal her heart and soul. She needs rest.”
“Then I hope that she finds great satisfaction in emasculating you. I intend to enjoy it thoroughly.”
“And I’ll enjoy your Bugatti.”
“There’s no sense in having a car like that. Where would I put the car seats? Two kids? I’m going to die from happiness, or ulcers. Come on. My wife’s pasta is a beautiful thing.”
That night, I stood on the patio looking up at the moon, standing in the square of light from her window. I stood there until Jessie’s shadow fell over me. I hesitated before I turned around and caught a glimpse of her in the window. She froze instead of pulling immediately away. I raised my hand until she raised hers then turned away and closed the drapes.
Chapter 15
“I’m going to throw up,” I said.
Trix winced. “Don’t. If I smell puke, I’m right there with you. The bathroom is too small and puke in both of our hair will make Horse think I’ve been drinking and whatever with you, and that’s just not what I want to deal wit
h this morning.”
She was lying on my bed in the small servant’s quarters, one hand over her face while I got dressed. I pursed my lips and stared at the woman looking back at me in the mirror. She was really pretty, but she looked kind of terrified. I didn’t have enough makeup on, and the dress was too sweet. I needed to show off my cleavage for its last hurrah, for Jezabel’s last show.
“Whatever with me? What does that mean?”
“Oh, you know my reputation. How many lovers have you taken since you’ve been in Vegas?”
“Jezabel is a tease, not a slut. I tried to date now and then, but it was too hard.”
“And you wanted this man. It’s hard to move on to something new when you’re holding onto something. I had this mechanic. He was incredible with his hands.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And your husband’s hands? Not that I want to know about Horse.”
Trix laughed and sat up. “Horse is good. He’s a quick learner and he’s adaptable. Almost too adaptable. I’ll go down there. I’ll be the one looking nauseous next to the priest.” She opened the door and a man was standing there.
“Who are you looking for?” I asked, moving over. I didn’t recognize him until I was in the doorway, two feet away from him.
My dad smiled at me, showing a glint of gold like he’d gone through a gold capped stage. Which he had. I grabbed his tie and yanked him into my room, slamming the door on Trixie before she could ask what was going on.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded before I made the obvious connection. “Cora told you about the wedding? Did she tell you that it was fake and I’m not actually getting married? There’s no reason for you to be here. None.”
He gave me a hug, smelling of weird incense and the gel he used to slick back his thick dark hair. “Jasmine. It’s good to see you, too.” He pulled back, gripping my arms while he studied me. I didn’t want to look at him, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the air of complete and utter nonchalance that he wore with more substance than the tuxedo and cowboy boots.
