I swallowed past the lump in my throat and put the centerpiece back in place.

“Did you two—” My words trailed off, filling the void between us with unspoken indictment. It hadn’t been my intention to make it sound like an accusation, but somehow it came off as such because, if Jett confirmed my suspicions, I couldn’t stay in a house where he once had sex with someone else.

Jett’s eyes narrowed on me and his jaw set. “Fuck, Brooke. She’s just a client. I don’t sleep with my clients.”

I averted my gaze to hide my disbelief. He signed deals—and a lot of them; he whisked off his clients to expensive restaurants and stunning vacation destinations. Did he really expect me to believe he and Kim never got intimate on such an occasion?

He walked over to me. I could feel his hands on my shoulders as he turned me around so that I faced him, but I didn’t look up.

“Brooke, just because I’m a guy doesn’t mean I sleep with anything walking on two legs. Kim’s not even my type. No one is, except you.”

“It was just a question, Jett.”

A question I would probably ask myself every time he met someone.

A question I would always be afraid to ask because I knew in my heart I didn’t have the strength to handle the kind of answer I feared. As much as I wanted to believe every word he said, and as much as I loved him, I didn’t trust life wouldn’t send another woman his way—someone more beautiful, better suited to his social status and lifestyle. Someone able to change his feelings for me.

“It’s not a big deal,” I lied. My eyes met his gaze, imploring him to drop the topic because I didn’t want to sound insecure. Insecurity wasn’t an attractive trait.

“I just wondered. That’s all,” I mumbled when he kept staring at me.

“Do you trust me?” His question was unexpected. I narrowed my eyes in surprise.

“I do,” I said.

“Do you, Brooke?”

He moved closer, towering over me. Peering into my heart, his gaze lingered on me too long, making me nervous. He was so tall I had to lean all the way back to look into his green gaze. Green like a haunted forest reflecting the morning sun. So deep and dark I would have dipped my fingers in it to stain my soul. Because haunted he was—we both were by our pasts—only he knew better how to deal with it.

As Jett regarded me, I could see the color of his eyes shifting—the way it often did, depending on his mood. Lighter when he was tired. Darker when he was agitated or infuriated. I realized I was getting to know him. The real Jett. And right now he was downright angry.

“Do you really trust me?” His fingertips lingered on my cheek, cold as ice.

“In some way,” I whispered. But did I? His expression challenged me to tell to truth. “I don’t know. I know you’re interested in me, and not in the estate. I also know you wouldn’t betray my trust, but I feel there’s a lot more to you. Hidden layers that I still have to get to know.”

His face betrayed no emotions as he moistened his lips, carefully preparing his words. “Brooke, I’m not just into you…I’m in this for the long haul. I dated others, but I always knew they weren’t the real deal. That whatever attracted me to them would pass. With you, it’s different.”

“How do you know?” I asked breathlessly.

He smiled. “You make me want to be a better person, and I cannot imagine a future without you.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “We haven’t known each other for long, but deep inside I feel like we understand each other. I feel like I’ve been waiting for someone like you all my life. Besides, you make me think of sex nonstop and that’s always a good sign.”

I could feel myself blushing, my insides turning all warm and fuzzy. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stop thinking about sex.

“That’s your libido talking,” I pointed out.

He shook his head. “No, it isn’t. You turn me on like I know I’m turning you on. Your wet panties are proof enough.”

His fingers brushed my neck, and then his lips gently touched the sensitive skin. His hot breath sent a delicious shiver through me. “If we’re both honest with each another, if we trust one another and we mention whatever is on our mind rather than keep things buried, then nothing can go wrong in this relationship. We won’t lose this.” He pointed to the air between us. “I won’t let it happen. It doesn’t matter what we once did and who we slept with, because they didn’t matter and the knowledge is all that counts. That’s all you, or I, ever need to know.”

He was right. Of course. The mere mentioning of my ex was enough to make him jealous. If it upset him seeing me with others and he was ready to never ask, then it was time for me to let go of my dark thoughts. I couldn’t expect from him something that I couldn’t give in return.

“I brought us here to spend time alone.” His tone dropped to a sexy whisper again. “Are you ready for our game?”

I put on my poker face. “You bet. If I win, I want to go back to our apartment, and I want to torture you in your own walls. I’ll tease you all night and drive you crazy until you beg for mercy.”

He grinned. “Now, that sounds tempting, Miss Stewart. I like the idea of you punishing me. But to be honest, right now I like the idea of fucking you, in every possible position, even more. We’re not going home today.”

Holy cow. He looked like he meant it.

I laughed as he walked over to his black bag to retrieve a set of cards. And for the first time I wondered why he had brought such a huge bag. What was he hiding in there?

Chapter 4

DAMN!

I was losing big time.

“This game sucks,” I said. As much as I wanted to cross my arms over my chest to express my frustration, I first needed them to hide as much skin as possible. It wasn’t because I was ashamed of my body. It was Jett’s hungry stare that made me want to hide behind a curtain. I didn’t need to ask him about his thoughts. I could see them written all over his face as he pondered all the things he wanted to do—with me, to me.

Sitting inside the open pavilion in the backyard with barely any clothes on, I felt more exposed than ever.

Jett hadn’t been kidding when he demanded we play our little game outside. I just didn’t expect him to want it outside on private property—he didn’t own. In the yard, where anyone could see us lounging, laughing, and being competitive half-naked.

“You’re so sexy when you’re pissed, Brooke.” He grinned, and my heart melted a few inches. “I promise when I win the last round, I’ll consider going inside. If you ask nicely.”

So far, he had won five rounds straight in a row, each time giving me a chance to “redeem myself and get a chance to win the twenty-four hours of pure sex” by winning the next round, which he ended up winning…again.

If I could have wiped the smug smile off his face, I would have. With every loss, Jett requested that I remove one piece of clothing, and with every protective layer removed, his smug grin widened. He had already removed my shoes, socks, business suit, and bra…oh, God. Was he sniffing my blouse?

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, mortified, fighting the urge to snag my blouse from his hands.

“Smelling the scent of success. I’m giving you one more chance, baby. You know six is my favorite number. It’s my lucky number.” He winked, just in case I didn’t get his drift. “If I win one more time, I have to remove your panties and get to do what I want to do with you.”

“Stop bragging, Mayfield.” I pulled up my legs to my chest so I could rest my head on my knees and hide my smile. To call my pink sheer thong “panties” was ridiculous when it was so tiny and see-through you could see all the way to Alaska.

He sniffed my blouse again.

“Give me that.” I leaped up to snag my top out of his hands, covering my exposed breasts in the process. Jett evaded my assault, laughing, as his gaze focused on the sides of my breasts where they seemed to spill out of my hands.

“You smell amazing, baby. Like a summer dream.”

“It’s called perfume.”

He took another sniff, then pointed to my tiny thong. “Whatever it is, I’m sure what I’m going to smell next is even better.”

I scowled. “I can still win.”

He laughed out loud as he shuffled the cards. “You keep saying that after each lost round.”

“Let’s get this nonsense over and done with,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Didn’t you say it used to be your favorite game?” He could barely hide his wicked grin as he pulled playfully at one of my curls. “Sounds like someone is a sore loser.”

“I am not,” I protested.

I was. Big time.

But I was nowhere near ready to admit that to him, and particularly not when I didn’t expect him to win. My father used to say I was the best Spades player. I hadn’t lost in years. I knew I was being childish, but I couldn’t help myself. That annoying grin of his was driving me nuts, which in turn managed to make me bold and careless, taking risks I wouldn’t usually have taken. What drove me even more crazy was the fact that he always seemed to know my next move. The idea of having sex with him in a stranger’s house filled me with shame because it was immoral. I had to win, just for the sake of stopping him from turning me into a mirror image of his wanton, sex-starved self. I wasn’t going to lose my morals.

“You have one more chance.” He kissed my shoulders, his hot breath both arousing and irritating me. “I’ll let you win if it makes you feel better.”

“I told you, no cheating. I’ll beat you fair and square. And then we’ll go back to your apartment. Because there’s no way I’d ever sleep with you in a stranger’s house. But let me guess, you’d only let me win if I agreed to do it here?”

“You’re damn right about that.”

“Well, in that case, I’m not changing my plans.” I drew a long breath and let it out slowly, imploring my mind to focus on the game rather than Jett’s presence and his lips on my skin.

“Me, neither.” He winked. “Luckily, I won’t have to, which makes this round even hotter.”

I shook my head at his inflated ego.

Maybe this time I was lucky. Nobody could win six times in a row. It was impossible. Right?

One win was all it’d take to have my say and take control of the situation.

Just one out of seven. The odds weren’t so bad.

“How’s it going?” Jett asked. He was sitting in a wicker chair, relaxed, as he surveyed me the way someone would look at potential prey. His gaze brushed over my neck, my exposed breasts, then moved up to my lips. He was clearly relishing his pre-coital fantasies, unleashing roaring chaos inside me with just a glance. So sure of himself, which made me nervous and unable to think.

Damn, I needed my brain to work—and fast—before it was too late.

“It’d be great if you were naked, too,” I admitted. “I can’t focus.”