by Talia Hunter
“Peter was an jerk.” She snuggled down so her head was under his chin and he could rest his cheek on her hair.
“He was that night.” Jackson closed his eyes. All these years, he’d pushed the memory as deep as he could, and now he was letting it float to the surface. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. Time had blunted the knife. “Peter had found a song I’d written and was taunting me for it, like most brothers would, I guess.”
“You wrote a song?”
“Not just any song. It was a love song. Or rather, it was about how my heart was all twisted up. I was crushing on a girl I could never have, because she loved my brother instead.” He opened his eyes, steeling himself for her reaction. “It was about you.”
Her head jerked up. “What? I never loved your brother. The opposite.”
“Of course you didn’t. I just assumed you must have, because of who Peter was.” He breathed out slowly. Now the memory was starting to hurt. The blade still had an edge after all. “He was the good brother, remember? The loveable brother. If you didn’t fall for him, then what chance would I have?”
“Oh no.” Her voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He kissed her creased forehead. “It was a long time ago, and we were young. That stuff all made sense at the time.”
“You’ve always been a hundred times nicer than your brother. And smarter. And a lot less of an jerk.”
He chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”
She dropped her head back onto his chest. “What happened after Peter started teasing you?”
“My father overheard. He wasn’t impressed by my song writing abilities, and we had our worst fight yet.”
“A physical fight?”
“It always got physical with him. But that was the first time I fought back for real.”
“What happened?”
Jackson dropped his nose to her hair so he could breathe her in. “I guess you could say I won the fight. But I hated it. Punching him was the most sickening thing I’d ever done.” He swallowed, remembering the feeling of his father’s jaw cracking under his fist. “And my father threw me out. He told me never to come back. I got in my van and was going to drive around until I felt better, then go to a friend’s place. But I found myself on the Pacific Highway heading up the coast, and didn’t want to stop. Tell you the truth, I didn’t even remember about our gig until I’d been driving a couple of hours, and by then, it was way too late.”
“You should have called me.”
“I should have. But you were the girl I could never have. I wanted to put you out of my mind. To leave you and my old life far behind.”
“Is that why you won’t pick up a guitar?”
He didn’t answer out loud. He didn’t need to.
She was silent for a long time as well. Her breaths were long and deep, but still faster than his. He reached around her back to touch the knuckles of his right hand, to feel where the skin had split when he’d punched his father.
He hadn’t thought about it in a while, and the memory wasn’t a good one. It made him feel edgy, like her weight on him was a responsibility he didn’t want. But he shouldn’t overreact, just because some bad memories had come back to the surface. His arrangement with Meghan was purely financial, and after tonight it would be over. In the meantime, he should relax and enjoy it.
Her fingers lightly tapped against his chest, and he dragged in a deep breath, pushing bad thoughts away. Could he tell what song was in her head by the rhythm of her fingers? It had to be something to do with him having left.
“Hit The Road Jack,” he guessed out loud.
She knew immediately what he was talking about. “Fast Car,” she said with a smile. “Tracy Chapman. You weren’t even close.”
“Want to know what song’s in my head?” He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the sweet warmth of her skin.
“Something by Barry White? I’m Gonna Love You Just A Little More, Baby?” She let her hand drift south.
She was joking, but he happened to know the words to that song, and Barry White repeated ‘I love you’ a lot. Wasn’t there even a line about falling deeper and deeper in love? That’s not what this was, and he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.
“We’ll have to pick this up later,” he said, stopping her hand from roving any lower. “We’ll have to leave soon, and I need to shower.”
“Okay.” She got to her feet with a sigh. “Dinner on a yacht, right? Hope I don’t get seasick.”
He watched her bend to pick up her clothes, even more beautiful now than she’d been when they were teenagers. If his eighteen-year-old self could see her, he would never have gotten in that van and driven to Brisbane.
But Jackson was a different person now. His wealth had made him different. It was dangerous to let himself get swept away by the past, when everything had changed so much.
“Meghan.” When she turned to him, her guileless blue eyes the same color as the gem in her belly button, he had to steel himself to go on. “I just confessed I used to have a crush on you. But things were simpler back then. You’re still very special to me, that hasn’t changed. What has changed is how complicated my life is. You’re an incredible woman and you deserve all the things that I’m not sure I can give you. As much as I like you, I can’t afford to make promises beyond our original agreement.”
Her expression crumpled, her lips flattening and the light in her eyes dimming, before she looked away. “Of course.” She turned her back to him to put on her bra.
He bit the inside of his cheek, tempted to soften his words. To somehow explain the unexplainable, and make her understand why he needed to enforce his boundaries. But she’d never get it. She had no idea how proximity to a large sum of money had so much power to corrupt.
Difficult as it was, this was the way it had to be.
Thirteen
Meghan gave herself a pep talk before they boarded the yacht. Jackson’s reminder of the terms of their relationship had stung, but as he’d said, he’d been honest from the start. And with her plan starting tomorrow, making sure their relationship stayed short term was good for her, too.
His warning shouldn’t have hurt and disappointed her, and the fact that it had was disturbing. But there was no time to think about it now. Besides, she was being paid to smile and be charming to Jackson’s business associates, so she’d just have to shake it off.
Stepping aboard the enormous yacht helped take her mind off Jackson’s words. So did a couple of glasses of champagne and a delicious meal. Despite how stuffy they looked, all the dinner guests were friendly, and neither Derrick nor Lex had been invited, so she didn’t have to worry about any unpleasantness.
In fact, by the time dinner was done, she was back to feeling good. She’d spent the day working on her song with Ellie Dray, for heaven’s sake. And making love with Jackson had been spectacular. She loved the way he made her feel, and tonight he was every bit as attentive as usual.
With small, possessive touches and smiles that were only for her, Jackson treated her as though she was special. And when his dark eyes caressed her, she was the most desirable woman in the world.
This was a great way to reverse those wasted years with a lying jerk who’d sapped her confidence before cheating on her and stealing from her. Being with Jackson was an instant antidote. With him, she felt whole again, like the person she was always meant to be. So what if it was a short-term thing? All that meant was that she should enjoy every last minute.
After dinner, the band started playing on the large rear deck. “Want to dance?” she asked Jackson.
His smile made her feel like she was glowing. “With you? Always.”
The band was a four-piece instrumental, playing a saxophone, guitar, double bass, and drums. Their backdrop was the gorgeous lights of Sydney’s harbor, with the lights from the bridge reflecting over the water and the enormous shell-shaped roof of the Opera House shining with multi-colored spotlights.
; Had there ever been a more gorgeous night? And had any woman ever danced with a better looking man?
She was just the right height that she could lift her face to the skin at the base of his neck. His cologne was like catnip. It made her want to purr.
“Having a good time?” he asked.
“The best.” She opened her mouth to ask if he was too, then closed it again. She was afraid to know in case it wasn’t the answer she hoped for.
Her heart twisted.
She’d been trying to forget that this was their last night together. But when the thought kept coming back, even her earlier pep talk couldn’t stop her feeling empty and a little desperate. Dammit, hadn’t she already convinced herself that keeping it short term was the right thing to do? But with her face nestled against his suit, she couldn’t imagine letting him go.
Oh God, was she falling for him? She had to be, because I Want You to Want Me was playing in her head.
“The conference has finished now?” She forced her voice to sound casual. “There’s no event tomorrow night?”
“It’s all done.” His voice was matter-of-fact. She let her breath out softly, so he wouldn’t hear her disappointment.
What if Cinderella wanted to keep seeing Prince Charming, even for just a little while longer? Heaven help her, she hadn’t meant to start falling for him. It wasn’t her fault he was damn near irresistible.
Had the other women he’d dated felt this way? Is that why he’d paid them to accept the fact it was over when their expiry date ran out? And was that what she was to him? Just another in a long line of women who wanted more than he had to give?
The thought tightened her chest, making it harder to breathe. But if he’d had a crush on her as a teenager, that meant she’d once meant more to him. Maybe he’d liked her so much more back then because they’d played music together, and she was at her best onstage, when she was singing for an audience. Come to think of it, the sparks had started flying between them when she’d sung for him in his recording studio.
She glanced at the instrumental band as an idea occurred to her. Could she test her theory in front of a real audience? Maybe then he could see her the way he used to.
But no, this wasn’t an appropriate time or place to do something crazy. This was a million-dollar yacht full of technology company VIPs. Men and women who were clean cut and deeply conservative. Getting on stage would shock them, and end any chance she had of fitting in.
But dammit, she had to do something. She couldn’t say goodbye to Jackson without a fight. What was the worst that could happen?
Okay, she could crash and burn. The other guests could be embarrassed. The host might ask her to leave. If that happened, Jackson would be unhappy that she broke the terms of their arrangement.
So yeah, it could all go horribly wrong. But on the plus side, at least she could say she gave it everything she had.
She waited until the song was over and everyone was clapping politely. Then she turned to Jackson. “I want to do something for you.” Her heart was already thumping too hard and her hands were sweating. “Wait here a moment.”
She walked up to the band. “Do you mind if I interrupt for one song?” They lowered their instruments, and she kept talking so as not give them time to object. “Join in if you like. It’s in A major.” She hummed a little of the chorus, then stepped in front of the guitarist’s microphone. From the corner of her eye, she saw the band exchange incredulous glances.
The rest of the dinner party guests wore looks of polite surprise. Jackson was frowning. Her stomach dropped. Had this been a terrible idea? She’d always hated when she had to sing in front of an audience of businessmen. If Jackson got angry about it as well, she’d die of shame.
She spoke into the microphone before she could chicken out completely. “Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you’ll allow me to sing you one song. A song I finished writing today, in fact. So it’s brand new. No chance of forgetting the words, at least.” She gave a nervous laugh.
Jackson took a step forward, as though debating whether to stop her. She closed her eyes, unable to bear seeing him approach, or the bemused, puzzled expressions on the faces of the bigwigs she’d had dinner with. Why had she ever thought this was a good plan?
Too late now.
She drew in a breath and sang the song that had come to her while they were making love in the back of the limo. Jackson’s song. When she’d written the words, they’d come easily, as though they’d been right there waiting for her. Like she was remembering them, rather than making them up. And Ellie had helped her tweak it until it was perfect.
And Jackson wouldn’t know it, but they were all about him. Or rather, about the way he made her feel, especially when they were making love.
After she’d got through the first verse and nobody had stopped her, she gathered enough courage to open her eyes. The people on the yacht were all completely still, focused on her. It had been a while since she’d been the center of attention. When was the last time she’d sung live to an audience who listened like this, rather than talking and drinking with their friends, or throwing a coin in her cap as they hurried past?
Her hands were still sweaty and her heart still pounded, but her voice got stronger. Then the drummer started a soft beat and the rest of the band joined in, backing her up and giving the song depth.
Jackson was right. This was what she’d been designed to do. And it didn’t matter if she was barely making enough money to scrape by, or she had to sing in crummy bars forever. The worst night she spent singing was still better than the best day doing almost anything else.
Jackson smiled and her heart filled with air.
Did he like the song? It didn’t look like he was angry. She sang the last verses gazing into his eyes, willing him to see that she’d started falling for him. Hoping for a sign he might feel the same way.
When the final notes died away, everyone on board applauded, even the waiting staff and the musicians who’d lent her the microphone. Meghan couldn’t stop a grin from spreading over her face. From the looks on their faces, the bigwigs had enjoyed it. She hadn’t made a fool of herself after all.
“Beautiful,” said Jackson, coming forward to meet her as she stepped away from the microphone. “I love hearing you sing, and your new song is incredible. That was the best performance I’ve heard in a long time.”
He’d used the ‘L’ word. Was that a good sign, or was she being too hopeful?
“I love singing for you.” She made her voice casual, but linked her arm through his. Claiming him, even if he didn’t know it yet.
“When I get you home, I’ll show you how much I enjoyed your singing,” he murmured in her ear.
The words sent a rush of arousal through her. Last night, he’d driven her to ecstasy every way possible. The more times he made love to her, the more she wanted him. “Then let’s go.”
Jackson moved back to the group to say goodbye to the other guests, and she watched him with a longing so strong it stole the breath from her lungs.
But the feeling was bittersweet. When they left the yacht, their agreement would officially over. Tomorrow he’d expect her to leave.
Unless she managed to change his mind.
Fourteen
The conference had finished and the deals Jackson had wanted were all signed. Today, Meghan was due to leave. They’d made love most of the night, and he’d gotten up while she was still dozing. Now he was in his study, staring at his computer. He had e-mails to send and documents to review, but instead he just sat there, staring at his screen without reading anything.
He’d had a good time over the last few days, and it hadn’t just been because of the spectacular sex. Going to usually dull social events with Meghan had made them fun as well as productive. Sure, he’d gotten his business concluded, but he’d also danced and laughed and enjoyed having her by his side.
He was going to miss her when she was gone, and the thought bothered him. There was no question that
she should leave. But how bad would it be if he asked her to stay one more night?
“Hey.” Meghan’s voice came from the door. “Can I come in?”
Sensitive information was scrawled all over his whiteboard, and his desk was covered with confidential documents. But what did it matter? All it proved was that Derrick was paranoid and overworked, because he’d been a hundred percent wrong about Meghan being a security risk.
“Sure.” He leaned back in his chair and watched her cross to his desk and lean her hip against it. She’d tied her dreadlocks back from her face and wore a simple T-shirt and jeans, but he could still see the woman who’d shone on stage last night.
Her talent was such a part of who she was, it was impossible not to see it. She was larger than life and totally unique. He could live a thousand years and never meet another woman even remotely like her.
“What’s all this?” She gestured to the whiteboard.
“Top secret information.” He said it lightly, but it was no exaggeration. For years, he’d had separate teams working on each part of his new technology. Not just fine-tuning the holographic lenses that projected the 3-D image, but creating the revolutionary scanner technology that captured the subject, the artificial intelligence that processed the information, and the compression algorithm that would allow such a high volume of data to be transmitted in real time. His teams were highly vetted, and each only worked with one part of the system. This was the only place where all the information was fitted together. The data on this whiteboard would make him millions. Possibly billions.
“This is the stuff Derrick was so worried about me seeing?” She scanned his diagrams and complex equations. “I could sell it and make millions?”
Her question sent an uneasy feeling to the pit of his stomach. He’d always been meticulous about protecting this information, which was why he kept it at home where he could control who saw it. But there was a difference between being careful and being paranoid, and Meghan was obviously joking. She had no idea what a touchy subject it was.