by Talia Hunter
“Thousands,” he corrected, his words deliberate. “Probably hundreds of thousands. But I don’t think Lex would pay millions for it.”
“What are the drawings of?” She snapped her fingers. “Oh wait, I know. These are plans to pimp the Aston Martin, right? You’re going to put a martini cabinet in the glove box and a fold-down double bed in the back.”
He nodded gravely. “And now you’ve seen my plans, I’ll have to kill you.”
“Oh yeah? Well, how do you know my bra doesn’t fire bullets?” She thrust her chest out, hands on her hips.
“There’s one way to find out.” He rose to his feet so he could run both hands over the weapons in question. “Hmm. Bullets are locked and loaded.”
There was a discreet knock at the door. “Excuse me, Mr. Brent?”
“Yes, Freya.” He let go of Meghan’s breasts and turned.
“You asked me to bring you two thousand dollars.” His assistant put the money on his desk and left with what he swore was a small smile twitching her always-serious lips.
“Is that for me?” asked Meghan. Her expression was unreadable as she studied the small pile of hundred dollar notes. “We agreed on a thousand dollars.”
“You earned two thousand.” He picked it up and handed it to her. “Payment for a job well done.”
“Thank you.” She stuffed the money in her pocket, and the motion triggered a memory that made him recoil. He turned his head away a moment too late. She’d already seen his expression.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He went back to his chair and sat down. His face was composed now, the memory pushed away. “Of course. It was nothing.”
But she was still frowning. “What was nothing?”
“I was thinking of my brother.” He waved his hand. “Forget it.”
“Or you could tell me.” She moved some of his top-secret papers aside so she could half sit on the edge of his desk. He hesitated, but she folded her arms and pushed out her chin. “I know Peter, remember? And if something about me reminds you of him, I want to hear what it is.”
He let out his breath. “I just thought about what happened between me and Peter a few years ago.” He paused, but she didn’t move or say anything, so he went on. “After Peter hurt his knee and his football career ended, he needed something else to do. So he came to me with a business idea.”
“A good one?”
Jackson shook his head. “The opposite. I knew his idea wouldn’t fly, so instead I asked him to take charge of a charity fund I was setting up. It meant Peter would earn a significant income, and he’d get to make sure the funds were spent on worthy projects.” He shrugged. “Who wouldn’t enjoy giving away money? That was what I thought.”
“Of all the people I’d pick to be generous, Peter would be at the bottom of the list. So tell me, how did he mess it up?”
He gave a rueful smile. The story left a bad taste in his mouth, but at least he was telling it to the one person who knew his brother well enough to understand. “Peter was resentful I’d turned down his business idea. He and my father decided that if I was going to give money away, it should go to them and nobody else. After a few months, I discovered they were siphoning funds. My brother was stealing the money he was supposed to be managing.”
Even now, after so much time had passed, the memory made him sick to his stomach. It was his own fault for hoping that things could still change between him and the brother he’d always dreamed of being close to. The brother he’d been taught to idolize.
“What did you do?” asked Meghan.
“I fired him. But it wasn’t over. He and my father engaged lawyer after lawyer trying to argue that they were entitled to a share of my money. They couldn’t stand to see a single dollar going to anyone else who might need it.”
“That’s pretty low, even for your family.”
“I didn’t want to keep fighting them, so eventually we came to an arrangement. They both get a generous income. On paper, they’re employed by my company. In reality, I pay them to leave me alone.”
She folded her arms, head cocked. “So how did paying me trigger that particular memory?”
Her tone was prickly. But she deserved to know the truth.
“It hasn’t just been Peter and my father who’ve stolen, fought, hired lawyers, begged, or tried to scam me out of money. It’s an occupational hazard I’ve come to expect.”
“You think I’m trying to scam you? Or beg for money?” She tugged the money back out of her pocket and thrust it toward him. “Take it back. I don’t want it.”
She looked so horrified at the suggestion, something inside his chest loosened. “No, of course not. And I want it to stay that way.” He stood and went to her. “These days, all my relationships have a monetary value. Mostly that’s a good thing. It keeps things clear, so I know exactly where I stand. But I don’t want it to taint my relationship with you.” Putting his hand over hers, he curled her fingers over the money before pushing her hand toward her pocket. “You earned it fair and square. This is my baggage, not yours.”
“According to you, we don’t have any kind of relationship.” She stuffed the money back into her pocket, her expression defiant. But her voice cracked a little, and he could see her flash of anger for what it was – a thin veneer to cover the fact he’d hurt her.
“I don’t know what this is,” he said honestly.
“You’ve just paid me to leave. Does that mean you want me out of your life now? I should walk out that door and never see you again?”
He took a breath. If only he could trust what they had. If he asked her to stay, he’d be exposing himself to the kind of pain his brother and father had put him through. It had taken a lot to see past the hurt they’d inflicted when he was young and to try to build bridges with them in the first place. The fact they’d turned on him again had only cemented his reluctance to trust anyone.
“Stay another night,” he said. “Let’s take it day by day. That’s all I can offer.”
She hesitated. “I have my own stuff to deal with, like I told you.”
“Working out your own tune.”
“That’s right. I have a plan to get started on. But I also think we owe it to ourselves to see what this might be.” She uncrossed her arms to indicate the space between them.
“Then let’s do that.” He nodded, making his mind up. “Now the conference is over, I could take the day off and we can spend it together. No financial agreement in place, but no promises either. Just you and me, seeing how it works out.”
“What would we do?”
His first thought was to take her back to bed. Of course it was, she was so damn sexy it drove him crazy. But spending a day in the sack wouldn’t settle anything. She had yet to see what having as much money as he did was really like. Maybe it was about time he showed her, and if it didn’t change things between them, perhaps he could think about trusting her.
“Let’s go away overnight. You’ll need to pack a bag.” She raised her eyebrows, but he shook his head. “Wait and see.”
A couple of years ago, he’d bought a small island near the tropical Whitsunday Island group, just a couple of hours away. He employed a live-in housekeeper, so his island home was kept ready for whenever he needed a day or two to unwind. The sand was perfectly white, and the water as blue as Meghan’s eyes. He kept wind-surfers, jet skis, and other pleasure craft there, and usually had his chef travel with him. As hard as he worked, he needed one place to indulge himself, otherwise what was the point?
They could take his jet to Hamilton Island, then transfer to his motor yacht and sail to the Great Barrier Reef to snorkel and have lunch. To top it off, he’d have Freya arrange some live music for a candlelit dinner on his private beach. Enough big-name musicians owed him a favor that they’d have no trouble finding someone impressive enough to blow Meghan’s mind.
He couldn’t wait to see Meghan’s face when she realized what he had in store for her. And there was no ne
ed to feel guilty about testing her. It would be a reality check to help her understand who he really was and what she’d be letting herself in for.
Fifteen
Meghan pulled herself out of the warm, tropical water and onto the platform at the stern of the boat. She clambered up the steps onto the back deck before dragging off her mask and snorkel. The wooden deck was pleasantly hot under her feet, and the sun would dry her in no time.
Jackson handed her a towel and the sunglasses she’d left on the deck. “How was it?” he asked.
Her smile felt so big, it was all but splitting her face in half. “Are you kidding?” She swiped her face with the towel so she could put her sunglasses on. “I’ve never seen anything like it. So many fish! Did you see the little black ones with the yellow eyes? And the ones with bright green stripes?”
“What about the big stingray?”
“That was incredible! The way it moved, flying in slow motion. How enormous was it? From where I was, it looked gigantic.”
“It was a big one.” He nodded to the boat’s outdoor dining table. “Are you ready for a drink? There’s chilled champagne. Or a soft drink if you prefer. Or beer, perhaps?”
She blinked at the table, laden with not just drinks but plates of exquisitely prepared food. They were on a luxury motorboat somewhere in the middle of the Great Barrier Reef. Nothing but ocean for miles around, and the staff of people he seemed to be able to conjure out of thin air had outdone themselves. Was that lobster surrounded by oysters on a bed of ice?
It was too much. There was nothing she could do but laugh. “What, no strawberry martini? I’m disappointed.”
Jackson turned toward the cockpit and raised his voice. “James, could you bring Meghan a—”
“No, stop. I was joking.” She gave his arm a light punch. “You know I wasn’t serious, Jackson. You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Doing what?”
She shot him a look she hoped would convey that she didn’t want to be messed with. “Is this some kind of test?”
“What do you mean?” He sounded too puzzled by her question. Suspiciously puzzled. As though he wasn’t puzzled at all.
“This.” She swept her arm around to encompass the sparkling expanse of ocean, the luxury motor yacht, and the table groaning with delicious treats. “Are you aiming to impress me? Because I don’t need to be reminded how different our lives are. I’m already well aware of it.”
“I just wanted you to enjoy a nice day on the water. You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“If I wasn’t, you’d need to check my pulse. Only someone who was dead or in a coma wouldn’t enjoy this.” She spoke lightly, though it was clear Jackson wasn’t telling the truth. This was some kind of test. He was watching her to see how she reacted to all this opulence.
But why? Was he really so terrified she was trying to take advantage of him that he had to try to test how enamored with his money she might be? The truth was, all this luxury made her uneasy. But if she told him, would he believe her?
“I’m going to have a beer,” he said, moving to the table. “You?”
“Beer sounds good.” She took the cold lager he handed her and took a seat at the table, slicking her wet hair back so it didn’t drip on the food. Then she helped herself to an oyster. Delicious. After slurping it down, she took another. Test or not, it would be a damn shame if they went to waste.
“These are good,” she said as he took the chair next to her.
“Are they?” Leaning over, he kissed her. His mouth felt so right on hers, it made her forget all her doubts and fears. She could probably be in a war zone with bombs exploding around her, and his kiss would make it all go away.
“Mmm,” he said eventually. “They do taste good.”
“Want to try something else?” Her voice came out a little hoarse. “I could eat everything on this table and you could taste it all.”
“The perfect meal.”
“Beer next.” She took a sip. The song in her head was It’s In His Kiss. If only the song was right and his kiss described how he felt about her. In that case, she’d have nothing to worry about.
He laughed and grimaced at the same time. “Beer and oysters? If that combination isn’t illegal, it should be.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it.” She offered her lips for tasting, and he didn’t disappoint. Once more, she could lose herself in the taste and feel of him. Kissing him was fast becoming her favorite thing.
And that could be dangerous.
Today was the day she’d been supposed to start working on her plan. Postponing it again made her uneasy. But she couldn’t walk away. She had to know what she meant to Jackson. Now that she’d fallen for him, she needed to find out whether their relationship had a chance of working or whether his heart was too well guarded to ever let her in.
“You were right,” he said. “Beer and oysters taste good together.” He grinned. “Or maybe it was the delivery method I liked.”
Megan smiled back, tempted to forget the question that was running through her mind. How much easier would it be to relax and enjoy kissing him all afternoon, rather than follow a disturbing train of thought?
But dammit, she’d put her plan on hold because she had to know.
“Mind if I ask something?” she said, already knowing that he was going to hate the question. “How many other women have you taught to snorkel?”
He shot her a sharp glance. “Only one other,” he admitted. “Why?”
“Were you dating her for real? Or did money change hands?”
“I told you, it’s not like that. Just because I have Freya arrange for a gift, doesn’t mean—”
She waved a hand, dismissing his protest. “How long did you date?”
His expression was inscrutable. “A few weeks.”
“And you ended it?” she guessed, her heart sinking. “You’re not exactly Mr. Commitment, are you? Why did you break up with her?”
“She wanted to go out all the time. I didn’t.” He picked up a pastry and took a bite. “I’ll ask the crew to start heading to the place we’re spending the night, unless you’d like to move to another snorkeling spot first.”
“You dumped her because she wanted to go out more than you did?” Meghan let her voice rise to indicate a serious level of disbelief. “That was your reason? Too many dinner dates?”
“I wouldn’t have minded dinners. But after the fourth charity gala, I’d had enough.”
“You don’t like charities?”
“It wasn’t the charities she cared about. It was taking pictures of herself for all her thousands of Instagram followers.”
“I see.” Meghan poured Tabasco sauce on another oyster and slurped it out of its shell. Jackson’s problem was slowly becoming clear. She just didn’t know what to do about it.
“Have you ever water-skied?” asked Jackson. “The water’s calm enough for it.”
“Were you part of her Instagram image?” asked Meghan, poking what she suspected might be the center of his wound. “Was she just with you because a handsome rich dude looked good in her photos?”
“Maybe.” Jackson put his half-eaten pastry down. “How would I know?”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? Short of giving her a lie detector test, there’d be no way to know for sure.”
“We may as well get moving. I’ll let the crew know.” He stood up.
“It’s no way to live though,” she said, angling her face up to keep his gaze. “Being suspicious of everyone. Not letting anyone get close.”
“That’s why we should take it a day at a time.”
He looked so stern that she forced a smile, wanting to ease a little of the tension her questions had created. “Makes sense. And did you say something about water-skiing?”
“Want to give it a try? We could stop off on the way to the island.”
“I’ve never done it, but it looks like fun.”
But a little of the sparkle had gone
from the day, and the sunlight had lost some of its pleasant warmth. As hard as she’d fallen for Jackson, she didn’t want to keep being tested to make sure she was genuine. She couldn’t be with someone who was always suspicious of her motives. Who’d want a relationship like that?
What if she acted too impressed by her surroundings? Or not impressed enough? Worrying about how he saw her would be exhausting, and what would happen if she failed whatever test he’d decided to set?
They’d only run into each other a few days ago, so maybe it wasn’t so bad that he didn’t trust her a hundred percent yet. But would Jackson ever really be able to trust anybody?
Sixteen
Their day had gone even more perfectly than Jackson had planned. He leaned back in his chair on the veranda of his island retreat and sighed with contentment. Dinner had been delicious, the singer who’d provided the entertainment had been one of Meghan’s favorites, and now they were sharing a glass of fine cognac and admiring the way the full moon was reflected in the shimmering, dark ocean.
Sitting opposite him at the table, Meghan’s face glowed from all the sun she’d had that day. He’d loved aweing and amazing her with every new surprise. Each time her eyes had widened or she’d gasped with pleasure, he’d felt warmer and happier and lighter.
It was one thing to enjoy all this beauty alone. But it hadn’t just doubled his enjoyment to be able to share it with her, it had multiplied it exponentially.
“Tell me the truth,” said Meghan, sipping her cognac. “That moon isn’t real, is it? You had Freya hang it for us, didn’t you?”
“How did you know?” He stared up at the shining disk, admiring how large and bright it looked. He’d arranged a boat back to the mainland for his staff and the singer, so he and Meghan could be alone for the rest of the night. Then they’d turned all the house lights off so they could look at the stars.
“The face in the moon.” She pointed. “It’s smiling, see? It doesn’t normally smile like that.”