One Woman

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Emma…

  That sand hourglass weighs on me off and on all afternoon, feeling like a piece of a puzzle that might lead further back in time, to the generation before us; to our parents. But as the day goes on and I find myself enthralled by the conversations Jax has about the stock market, where he’s heavily invested, per his own definition. He’s smart. He’s diverse. The whiskey operation like our hotel operation that is all we do, is a small part of Jax’s portfolio. A strategy he confesses Hunter never approved of and why his personal investments outweigh that of the company. I begin to wonder what these two brothers did agree on, and how, if at all, that fits into any of this.

  By evening Jax and I plan our trip to Germany while eating a delicious meal delivered by the castle’s chef, Melanie. Eventually, we end up in Jax’s bedroom, and I fully unpack and even hang up my clothes in the closet with Jax’s clothes. My toiletries even get a spot next to his and rather than feeling weird, it feels thrilling. By the time we actually climb into bed together, naked at Jax’s insistence, that sense of it being our bedroom one day soon, sending a heatwave of awareness through the room.

  “Come here,” Jax murmurs, folding me in close to him and there’s a rush of awareness, deep intense awareness like I have never felt with any other human being. “Do you feel it?” He doesn’t wait for a reply. He says, “You belong here. You belong with me, Emma.” His lips brush mine, his tongue a tease against my tongue, a feather-light connection that I feel in every part of me. I feel him in every part of me.

  What follows is not sex. It’s making love. We touch. We kiss. We laugh. We talk. And we most definitely moan. That moment when he presses inside me, I wouldn’t breathe if it wasn’t with him. When we finally lay together, the room dark, me curled to his side, his heart thrumming beneath my palm, I whisper, “I feel it.” And then we drift off to sleep, the fireplace flickering on the wall but it’s the man holding me that keeps me warm.

  I wake with Jax still holding me, sunlight beaming in from the windows and it’s not long before we’re dressed and taking a run on the beach. “I think you need a dog to run with,” I comment as we cool off.

  “We need a dog?” he challenges.

  My cheeks flush and I start running toward the house, only to have Jax catch me, throw me over his shoulder and carry me inside and straight toward the bathroom. A hot shower session later, we’re dressed in jeans and T-shirts when we raid the castle kitchen and score cinnamon rolls and donuts that Chef Melanie is eager for us to try.

  We spend the afternoon working in the kitchen and we break to explore the rest of the house, which is perfection that includes a media room, a library, several spare bedrooms, and two offices; one Jax declares as mine and one that is his. For the evening whiskey sampling that I assume to be informal, it’s anything but. The tradition is that a few large clients are invited to the exclusive event which means we dress up. Thankfully, I brought two dresses.

  It’s seven with a full moon high in the sky, when we enter the castle, Jax in a gray suit with an emerald tie, and me in a matching emerald dress—his suggestion not mine, and I know why. I know that he’s making a statement: she’s with me. We are one. I feel that the minute Jill greets us in the foyer, her eyes raking over our matching colors, her cold smile directed my way. Either she believes I was a part of Hunter’s assumed murder, or she’s territorial. She was to be queen and now, perhaps, she feels I’m the future, and she’s the past. It’s a thought that draws my sympathy and stirs tolerance in me. I know what it’s like to be the runner up with my family. It’s unpleasant.

  Soon Jax and I are entering a large room with a high ceiling, massive stone pillars, with not one, but two long stone tables illuminated by flickering lights. There are a good twenty people present and as Jax and I claim seats, all twenty have eyes on us.

  “Are these people all clients?” I ask as he catches my hand under the table.

  “The mayor is the bald man with the beard. The redhead across from him is his secretary and mistress. The brunette next to him is his wife.”

  I choke on a bite of cheese. “You’re joking.”

  He laughs. “Actually, I am. The redhead is a city council member that hates his guts.”

  I laugh now, too, and a tall thin man in an impeccable suit joins us, sitting across from Jax. “Emma, this is Neal Mink. He owns the—”

  “Mink restaurant chain,” I supply, recognizing the major high-end hotspot name. “One of my dining locations.”

  “Do tell me your favorite choice there, Emma.”

  Jax rolls his eyes. “He tests people. Say the steak. He can’t ever argue with the steak.”

  “The green chili mac n cheese,” I say. “I’m quite the mac n cheese connoisseur, too,” I add. “I’m a tough audience.”

  “My mother’s recipe,” he says, eying Jax. “Keep her. You need her.”

  “I’ll keep her if she lets me,” Jax says lifting my hand and kissing it. “But something tells me I’m going to have to earn it.” He leans into my ear and whispers. “One lick at a time, right, baby?”

  My cheeks heat right along with all my delicate girl parts, while Neal quickly turns to business. “You’ll have to earn me, too, Jax. Let’s talk about that investment I had go wrong.”

  “Let’s talk about all the investments I helped you get right,” Jax counters, never missing a beat.

  Soon we’re served flights of whiskey and the first few are easy on the palate. Jax walks the tables to check on everyone and I chat with a woman named Linda, who tells me her company name, but I forget it quickly. It seems the smooth whiskey is dangerous. It’s gone to my head. So has Jax. The man is gorgeous and he might be across the room, but his eyes radiate to me and often.

  Jax settles next to me again just in time for a new flight. I test the first and it’s tart enough that I make a face. Jax laughs and leans in to whisper, “If you going to love me, baby, you need to learn to love the whiskey.”

  Shocked, my gaze jerks to his, and the heat in his stare is positively smoldering. “Jax,” I whisper, because thanks to the whiskey and the drugging effect of this man, I have no other words that form.

  His eyes twinkle with mischief and when someone calls his name, he leans in and kisses me. He tries to turn away and I catch his sleeve. “I do love the whiskey, Jax North. And I also have to pee. Where might I find a bathroom?”

  “I’ll take you.”

  “You attend to your guests. I can pee on my own.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You want me to live here and I can’t even go to the bathroom on my own?”

  “I do want you to live here, Emma Knight.” He stands up and holds out my chair. “First right. Second right. Door.”

  I repeat that. “First right. Second right. Door. Got it.”

  “Hurry back, baby.”

  Based on the look in his eyes—all simmering heat and fire—I will. I walk through the room, the romance of the candle guiding my path, my feet only slightly unsettled on the stone floor. I follow the directions. I turn right. I am about to turn right again when I run smack into a hard body. I gasp and look up to find the blue-eyed man staring down at me only this time that’s not where this ends.

  Suddenly, I’m shoved against the wall, and I can barely catch my breath as he steps in front of me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Emma…

  My head is spinning from the whiskey and I can’t seem to move, shout, or even shove at the man in front of me. He doesn’t touch me. He just stands close, so close. “This path you’re on, if you walk in the wrong direction with Jax, I will make you, and everyone you love pay. Understand?”

  “I don’t know what that means. I don’t know.”

  “You know. We both know that you know. Do not test me. This is your one and only warning.” With that, he pushes off the wall and walks away. I pant out a breath and shove to a standing position, my g
aze landing on the bathroom door, or what I think is the bathroom door. I rush toward it, yank it open, and thank God, it is a small bathroom. I rush inside, shove the door shut and lock it. The toilet is close and despite everything that just happened, I have to pee. I yank at my shirt and do what I have to do, and it’s not until my hands are under the stream of water and my eyes find my reflection that I start to shake. Damn it, I start breathing shallowly. I’m hyperventilating. I’ve never hyperventilated in my life. I shove the toilet seat down and sit, forcing slow, deep breaths, trying to drag myself out of the haze of the whiskey. That man believes my family killed Hunter. I reach for my purse and I yank out my phone, and dial Chance.

  “What’s up, sis?”

  “How bad was dad?”

  “What do you want me to say? He was an ass. You know that.”

  “How bad?” I press. “Jax matters to me. He matters so very much to me. Tell me this family isn’t going to rip him from my life.”

  “Damn it, Emma. I told you not to get involved with him.”

  “That is not the answer I want from you, Chance. It’s not.”

  “It’s the answer I have to give you.”

  “Tell me you weren’t involved,” I hiss, standing up now. “Tell me you weren’t—”

  “I’ve dealt with dad’s shit for all my life, little sis. I’ve protected you from it. He’s dead. It’s over. Don’t stir up his old ghosts. Come home.”

  “I am home. I’m moving in with Jax.”

  “No, you’re not,” he says. “You’re not moving in with him.”

  I hang up. He tries to call back. I turn off my phone. There’s a knock on the door. “Just a minute!” I call out.

  “It’s me, baby,” Jax calls out.

  I walk to the door and press my hand to the wooden surface. “Jax,” I whisper.

  “Open up,” he says. “Let me in.”

  “I can’t right now.”

  “Are you sick?”

  “No. No, it’s not that.”

  “Emma, baby, let me in. Come on. Let me in.”

  “Go back to the party,” I say.

  “Not without you.”

  Not without me. God, I love and hate those words. I unlock the door, and Jax is immediately inside with me, shutting it again, locking it. And then his hands are on my body, and I’m against the wall, the smell of him, spice and man, teasing my nose. The feel of him, hard and strong, warming me all over.

  “What’s going on, baby?”

  I wrap my arms around him. “Echo cornered me. He warned me not to go down a path of no return. He thinks I want to hurt you, Jax. I don’t. I swear to you, I know nothing that you don’t know about any of this. I swear to you that—”

  “I know that,” he says, his hand sliding under my hair to my neck. “I’ll talk to Echo. I’m sorry he did that to you.”

  “I called Chance. Jax, he said things that make me think Hunter really was murdered. I don’t think he did it but I think he’s covering it up. How do we get by that? How? Don’t tell me it’s not an issue.”

  “By holding on,” he says, kissing me. “By falling in love.”

  “Don’t fall in love with me,” I warn. “You can’t fall in love with me when my family—”

  His mouth comes down on mine, his tongue licking into my mouth, drugging me, a rush of heat spreading through every part of me. “Can’t isn’t a word my father allowed in the castle. I can do whatever the fuck I want. He said so.”

  “Jax—”

  His mouth is already on my mouth again, his hand sliding over my body, my breast, and I moan with the feel of him. And just like that, we are wild, kissing, touching, and my skirt ends up at my waist, his fingers sliding under the silk of my panties. I catch his hand. “We can’t. Not here.”

  “It’s my home,” he says. “And we don’t say ‘can’t’ here, Emma. Remember, you can fall in love with me. You can fuck me wherever the hell you want to fuck me.” His fingers sink deeper inside me and I moan all over again. His teeth scrape my bottom lip, tongue licking the offended skin and I’m done fighting this. I want him. I need him. Those words are on repeat with this man. Those feelings are on repeat with this man.

  I tug at his pants and he doesn’t even hesitate. A few fast moves and my leg is at my hip, with his thick erection pushing inside me. His mouth is on my mouth again, and my breast is now free and in his hand. I tug at his hair and he drives into me and we are frenzied. Pump and thrust. Pump and grind. Holding on to each other, pulling at clothes and touching everywhere we can touch. Somehow in that tiny bathroom with the world in party mode outside the door, and the blue-eyed man ready to come at me, I orgasm with insane intensity. Jax follows, shuddering onto his sweet spot and then we’re both laughing with the return of reality.

  “I can’t believe we just did that,” I whisper.

  “There you are with that can’t word again.” He pulls out of me and grabs tissues and when we finally have all our body parts back in our clothes, Jax cups my face and says. “We can do anything we want and have anything we want. And what I want is you.”

  “I want you and us, too.”

  “That’s all that matters, baby.” He strokes my hair. “Let’s go back to the party and then let’s go home.”

  Home.

  He makes me believe this can be my home. He makes me believe that I can fall in love with him and become a fairy tale princess in a castle. The blue-eyed man doesn’t get to tell me I can’t do this. My brother doesn’t get to tell me I can’t do this. But murder, murder has a life of its own, it lives after death. And I can see it leading to only one place: another bad ending.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Emma…

  Echo disappears.

  He literally isn’t at his house when Jax goes to visit him and won’t return anyone’s calls. Savage and his team are tasked with finding him. I’m not sure what to make of that, but it bothers me, much like that hour glass. Despite those things weighing on me, the next few days with Jax are wonderful.

  We work together. We run together. We sleep and eat and laugh together. We explore the castle and its grounds. We even get to that breakfast spot his father loved and the tree where his mother used to take him. I fall in love or I feel like it’s love. I tell myself that lust and infatuation can read like love, but the safe, wonderful, friendship between us that defines the secrets between our families doesn’t feel like another lie. It feels like the only truth our families share.

  The night of the festival opening is a formal whiskey cocktail party. I dress in a black lace dress and Jax is in a tuxedo. We reach the castle to a line of fancy cars and dresses. Jill greets us in the foyer in a red dress. I can almost feel Jax yelling in his head.

  “Everything is going fabulous,” she announces. “And every customer I was worried about either called to say they’ll make next year or they’re showing up. It’s all fabulous.” She is truly happy, the emotion bubbling from her eyes. She cares. She wants this place to be successful. I just don’t understand the red dress. She even looks at me and smiles. “You look beautiful, Emma.” And with that she leaves.

  “That fucking dress,” Jax murmurs.

  I squeeze his arm. “I know. I know.”

  We set aside the dress and greet one of his customers.

  The event is in a courtyard just off the ocean with jazz music, food, and brilliant lanterns lighting the night. Heaters dot the area keeping everyone warm and toasty but for me, it’s the sexy exchanges with Jax that keep the sizzle on my skin and low in my belly.

  We are deep into one conversation after another when Jax is pulled aside by a client to talk about some important stock with details that he doesn’t want out to the general public. “I’ll be at the pastry table,” I say and he laughs, leaning in close to whisper, “I’ll help you work the sugar off later.”

  My cheeks heat and I’m smiling as I walk toward the food, only to be stopped by Randall stepping in
front of me, looking tall, dark, and irritatingly arrogant in his tuxedo. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was invited. I’m a customer, remember?”

  “I’m pretty sure I could have represented us just fine on my own.”

  “I’m not,” he says. “We need to talk.”

  “Did my brother send his right-hand man to do his dirty work and bring me home?”

  “Yes. We need to talk.”

  “No, Randall. We don’t. Go home.”

  He lifts his glass and motions to the man in the corner that I haven’t noticed until now. “Kent Sawyer? Really, Emma? How many enemies are you consorting with?”

  “I know what is going on with Jax and Kent Sawyer, Randall. This is none of your business.”

  “Isn’t it? We need to talk.” He motions to a doorway that leads to a portion of the castle with an art display set-up for the evening featuring local artists.

  My gaze seeks out Jax who is in deep conversation at the far corner of the event area, still talking to the same man about that stock. “Let’s go,” I say hoping to just get him out of here. I start walking and he falls into step with me but when we enter the art room there are people everywhere.

  I indicate a separate door that leads to one of the many castle hallways. Once there he faces me. “You don’t know what you’re stirring up here, Emma.”

  “Tell me. Make me understand.”

  “The North family is our enemy. They can take everything from us. They can destroy us. Jax is using you.”

  “He’s not using me.”

  “He is using you, Emma. This is a dangerous game. I don’t want you to end up dead.”

  “Dead? Now I’m going to end up dead?”

  “There is a bigger story here. One I can’t tell you without putting you at further risk. I’m asking you to listen to me. If you don’t, I’ll have to make pre-emptive strike to protect you. You have seventy-two hours to come home.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It means that this family is my family. I protect what is mine. You leave or I’ll hurt him. I’ll hurt him before he hurts you and us.” And with that he turns and leaves.