Apparently he didn’t care because he tossed her back over his shoulder. She squealed from the momentary weightless feeling, followed by an oof when her stomach landed on his shoulder. “Before you get all pompous on me again, princess, you should think about my offer.” He ran a finger over the outline of her bikini, making her aware for the first time just how close her backside was to his face. She felt his warm breath against her skin.
“I promise you’ll like it, V.”
If she hadn’t heard the smartass smile behind his offer she would’ve already plotted the demise of his family jewels. But he didn’t have to know they were safe. “You can spank me if I get to shave your balls with a straight razor.” Then she added in a mocking tone, “I promise I won’t slip, Jax.”
His laugh rumbled in his chest. A moment later she found herself flying through the air yet again just before landing butt-first into the sea. This time, though, she’d been prepared and had taken a big breath. Once fully submerged, she turned over and swam underwater away from him until her lungs burned and she had to come up for air.
Spinning around to see how far she’d gone was pointless. Jackson had swum after her. “Okay, I concede,” she said, holding her hands up in resignation. “You win. Now will you please stop tossing me on my ass?”
“As long as you concede, yes, I’ll stop.”
“Good, because I have to go.”
“What are you talking about? We were just starting to have fun.”
She looked over at him and had to remind herself to keep breathing. The sun hitting the water trailing over his muscles made it look like diamonds dripped from his body. His cargo shorts, heavy with retained water, hung deliciously low on his hips, showing off that incredible V. He really was something to behold.
She gave herself a mental shake and continued walking back to their things at the bar. “Success comes from ninety percent work and ten percent play, and that,” she said, pointing to where he’d recently tossed her, “was my ten percent for the day.” Adjusting the back of her bottoms to ensure they weren’t skewed into a compromising position, she trudged toward the beach.
Aaaaaand Jackson followed. Naturally, she thought. This guy didn’t know the meaning of “quit while you’re ahead.”
“Is that one of your seven rules?”
Her feet glued themselves to where the sand met the sea and her head whipped around. “Excuse me?”
“You know, your rules that you follow or whatever.”
“How do you know about those?”
He shrugged a shoulder as he dragged a hand over his dark hair. “I asked Reid what your deal was with lying. He told me you have a list of rules you live by, that’s all. Are they supposed to be a secret?”
The question took her aback. “No, not necessarily. But they’re personal, so they’re not something I go around advertising. And, no, that isn’t one of the rules. More like a mantra, I guess.”
They picked up their walk again, trudging through the soft white sand toward the bar. She’d hoped claiming her rules as “personal” would prevent further discussion, but she was beginning to see Jackson as a junkyard dog that wouldn’t let go once he’d latched onto something.
“So why do you have them?”
She shrugged. “They keep me in line with the way I want to live my life and the kind of people I want to surround myself with.”
“Wow. That sounds really…” He seemed to be searching for a polite way to say what he really thought. “Careful.”
She shook her head and smiled, refusing to let him get under her skin any more.
When she didn’t take the bait, he continued. “Where’d you get the idea for something like that anyway?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she’d gotten it from Gandhi’s life teachings or something equally profound…but that would be breaking Rule #6.
“It doesn’t matter where I got the idea. What matters is that they mean something to me. And they work. You should try coming up with a few of your own. I’d bet you could use a little structure in your life.”
“I have plenty of structure when it comes to my training. I don’t need it for anything else.”
She laughed. “Oh, yes, you do.”
Crossing his arms, he braced his legs shoulder-width apart. A stance she now recognized as his challenge-issuing pose. Also, his mega-alpha super-hot pose. “Give me a rule you think I should have.”
“How about ‘Anything other than early,’” she said, pinning him with a meaningful look, “‘is late.’” She waited only a few beats for his next witty remark. When one didn’t seem to be forthcoming, she mentally marked it as a win in her column. Shabba! “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with the wedding coordinator at four o’clock, and although it’s not one of my rules, I still refuse to be late.”
“We.”
“What?”
“We have an appointment with the coordinator.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I can take care of it.”
Please let me take care of it. Her emotions were all over the place around him, and she didn’t have the first clue as to what to do about it. She needed a few hours to herself. Time to flush all things Jackson from her mind. Time to gird her loins before she needed to act like half of a couple in love.
“I don’t doubt your capabilities, V, but I don’t think Reid would let Lucie take care of everything herself. After all, as you so aptly pointed out earlier today, Reid is a very attentive man.” He took her hand and held it between his, the roughness of his fingers a scintillating whisper of possibilities. “In fact, I doubt he’d ever let Lucie out of his sight.”
Yep. Capital D Dangerous.
She tried to clear her throat delicately to disguise her sudden unease. “So, I take it you plan on attending all of the appointments this week?”
Cue shit-eating grin. “Oh, yeah.”
She withdrew her hand from his, ignoring the shiver that zipped down her spine as his calluses dragged over her skin, and gave him her best you don’t faze me smile. “Fantastic.”
With that she walked the rest of the way to the bar, retrieved her things, and headed toward the bungalow without looking to see if he followed. As her feet carried her closer to her room, she fiercely prayed for a miraculous mandatory evacuation of every MMA fighter on the island.
…
Jackson stood outside the Honu Café where Vanessa was due to meet the wedding coordinator. Sensing she needed some time to herself earlier, he’d gone home, showered, and changed into a dry pair of cargo shorts and a blue polo. Most days he was either surfing or training, so it wasn’t often he wore anything other than board shorts or athletic shorts. And even though he looked identical to every other guy at the resort who wasn’t poolside or oceanside, he still felt overdressed.
As a couple exited the café, he asked, “Excuse me, can you tell me what time it is?”
“Certainly,” the woman said, checking her slim wristwatch. “It’s ten till four.”
He offered her a warm smile. “Mahalo.” Perfect. He’d made sure he was plenty early to prove to her he wasn’t a total slacker. He could be on time to something if he had to be. Hell, he was never late for training.
Leaning back against the wall, he put his hands in his pockets and thought about his afternoon with her. She’d accepted his deal, as he’d known she would, even though she claimed it was only because she wanted to and had nothing to do with his proposition. There was still a lot he didn’t know about Vanessa MacGregor, but one thing he knew for sure was that she hated losing control. She needed things to be on her terms at all times.
Unfortunately for her, even though he’d adapted to a much more laid-back way of life, he was still very used to being in control. However, when he consciously thought about it, control wasn’t something he needed. Outside of the cage and the bedroom, anyway. But old habits die hard, and raising a younger sister for five years made him accustomed to playing leader to Lucie’s foll
ower.
Beyond that, he was used to women playing coy with him. They liked to think of themselves as hard to get, pulling all the strings and leading the guy along by the short-hairs. And he happily played along. To an extent. Then he flipped the switch and took hold of the reins. Especially during sex. He preferred to have the control. Well, perhaps “preferred” wasn’t the right word. It was more how he was hardwired.
But the women he’d been with hadn’t posed any sort of challenge. They were like sheep in wolves’ clothing. They liked to think they were tough, but when he crooked his finger, the ruse dropped and they followed his lead.
Vanessa was different. She didn’t merely pretend; she was a wolf. When he pushed, she pushed back. He never would’ve thought he’d be attracted to someone so strong-minded, but he couldn’t get her out of his head. She was like a ball of fire, ready to explode, and he was a pyromaniac who couldn’t bring himself to keep his distance. Time would tell what sort of havoc she would wreak. Until then, he had every intention of enjoying the fireworks.
A wry smile spread over his face as he remembered the way she threw her skirt on him and walked toward the water like she owned the very sand under her feet.
“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”
He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts about her that he hadn’t even seen her approach. She looked beautiful in a sundress with large red hibiscus flowers splashed across a white background. Casual and graceful. “You mean you were hoping I’d changed my mind.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said, offering an understanding smile. “That’s okay, I don’t blame you. I didn’t make things easy on you today. But I promise to be on my best behavior from now on.”
Her eyelashes nearly twined as she scrutinized him. “Why the change of heart?”
“Aren’t you going to comment on my punctuality?”
To his surprise she did that thing where she tried to stop herself from smiling by biting on her own cheek. It was quite possibly the most adorable thing he’d ever seen a woman do. At last she huffed a sigh and said, “All right, let’s go in. But don’t say anything. Just let me handle this, okay?”
He winked at her. “Whatever you say, darling.” Fat chance, honey.
Jackson held the door for her and followed her into the air-conditioned restaurant. It was one of the more casual eateries the resort offered, if you considered mahogany tables with fine china and centerpieces made of orchids in crystal vases casual.
“Aloha!” A cute girl at the hostess counter smiled like she’d never been so happy to see two people. “Table for two?”
Vanessa jumped in. “Actually, we’re here to meet with the wedding coordinator. Can you point us in the right direction?”
“Ah, yes! He told me you’d be arriving and to seat you right away. He should be here shortly.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
They followed her to a small table in the back with a Reserved sign in the center. Taking the sign, the girl handed them menus, but Vanessa politely refused. “We won’t be eating now, but I’d love an iced tea, please.”
Their hostess eagerly nodded and looked to him. “Heineken, thanks.” Another nod and she was off.
“I like your sandals,” he said.
“My sandals?”
She turned her head and stuck a foot out to the side to examine them as though she’d forgotten what she wore.
Raising an eyebrow in his direction she asked, “Are you a women’s shoe expert in your off hours or something?”
“Hell no. I don’t have the first clue about fashion.”
Her brows drew together, causing her skin to squinch between them. It must be something she did often, probably while hard at work on cases. “Then what exactly is it you like about my current footwear?”
He paused as the waitress set their drinks in front of them, then said, “I appreciate how the heels accentuate your calves.”
She studied him with a bemused smile. “I’ve never had a man compliment my shoes based on how they make my legs look.”
“We’ve already established you’ve never been complimented properly. And Vanessa…” He leaned forward and stared into her gem-colored eyes until her mirth tapered off and her pulse leapt just under her jaw. “I could compliment you properly all night long.”
Sitting back, he raised his beer to his lips without breaking eye contact. Watching her watch him intrigued him, and he thought of all sorts of things he’d like for her to watch him do.
“Hi, hello, bonjour, and aloha!”
Jackson turned his head to see a thin reed of a man making his way to them, wearing a pair of white dress shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. He looked like a fashionable Gilligan without the white hat. The guy had an extra bounce in his step that indicated he was either extremely hyper or literally the happiest guy on the planet. He didn’t hesitate to hug Vanessa like they were long-lost friends. When he pulled back, he held one of her hands in both of his and sat across from Jackson.
He pointed to the nametag pinned to his breast pocket. “I know it looks like my name is Robért, but it sounds like someone commanding a grizzly in a canoe. Row, bear!” He giggled at a joke he’d no doubt told to thousands of tourists. “Row-bear, get it? My mother’s French, but I was born here, which explains both the strange pronunciation and my lack of a French accent.”
Vanessa echoed the man’s giggle. If it were strictly for Robért’s benefit, she was very convincing. Jackson, on the other hand, dragged a hand over his mouth to wipe the amusement from his face at the guy’s over-the-circus-top personality.
“Anyhoo,” Robért continued, “enough about me. It is so nice to finally meet the both of you. We’re going to be the best of friends this week as I make all your dreams come true. We have so much to do before you walk down the aisle, so let’s get crack-a-lackin.”
As Robért chatted on about options for favors, flowers, and other things, Jackson sat and listened. Not to the actual details but to the overabundance of words Robért liked to emphasize. It gave his half of the conversation almost a melodic cadence and certainly made for an entertaining time as a spectator to the whole thing.
As Vanessa started talking about her—or rather, Lucie’s—vision for the wedding, Jax took the opportunity to study her. The way she smiled at the flamboyant coordinator almost stole his breath. It was wide, brilliant…sincere. She hadn’t smiled like that with him, but God did he want her to.
He scooted his chair closer to hers and felt her tense up, but if the coordinator noticed, he didn’t let on. Without forethought, he draped his arm over the back of her chair, tipping his body closer to hers. When he used his free hand to tuck her hair behind her ear so he could get a better look at her profile, she jerked back slightly.
Probably realizing she’d reacted out of character for her role as Lucie, she let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry. I guess I was so wrapped up in our conversation that you startled me.”
“No need to explain, honey.” Jax moved his arm from the chair to wrap around her. Her bare shoulder fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Impulsively, he pulled her in and planted a soft kiss at her temple. “You’ve been jumpy lately from the stress of the wedding.”
Through a tight smile, she said, “I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. But, hey,” he said, using a finger on her chin to guide her eyes to his, “we’re here now, and you have Robért to help you with everything. So I want you to take some deep breaths and try to relax.”
Jax wasn’t trying to help “Lucie” relax but Vanessa. Her role in the deception had her wound tight. He inhaled long and slow through his nose and was relieved when she followed suit. They exhaled together and some of the deer-in-headlights look vanished from those pretty green eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile and a slight squeeze on her shoulder.
“That’s my girl,” he said softly. It was only after she smiled wanly and broke eye contac
t that Jackson realized he’d said that sincerely, not even considering his role as Reid. And he didn’t know what to make of that.
An eruption of enthusiastic clapping from the jovial wedding coordinator interrupted any musings on the puzzle. “Oh, you two are ab-so-lute-ly love-ly! This is why I love my job. There’s nothing else in the world as precious as new love.”
“There certainly isn’t, Rob,” he answered with a grin.
At the end of the meeting, Robért told them he needed a moment with the hostess to schedule their appetizer-tasting appointment for later that week and Vanessa claimed she needed some air. Ever the doting “husband,” Jax followed her out into the sultry late-afternoon heat. As soon as the glass door shut behind them, she let out a huge breath and rolled her head around, trying to work out the tightness in her neck and shoulders.
Since they were still in plain view of Robért, Jackson took the opportunity to move behind her and place his hands on her shoulders. Using his thumbs, he rubbed firm circles between her shoulder blades. Letting her head drop to her chest, she melted under his touch, but not for the reasons he’d like.
“Oh, God, that feels so good.”
“Why so tense, my pupule wahine?”
She shot him a glare from the side. “Don’t try and butter me up with pet names. You know exactly why. Go back on your deals often, Maris?”
“Never.”
“Really? Then what do you call all that unnecessary affection you were laying on me in there?”
Drawing her back against his chest, he moved his thumbs to the base of her neck. “Affection is never unnecessary, V.”
“Ooh, yeah, right there,” she groaned.
Damn, what he wouldn’t give to hear her say that under different, less clothed, circumstances.
“It’s not like I hauled off and kissed you passionately in front of the guy. Besides,” he argued as he turned her to face him, “that’s not what’s really bothering you.” Her stubborn chin raised an inch, but she didn’t contest his observation. “What do your rules say about lying, V?”
For a while, he thought she wouldn’t answer him. That maybe he’d asked for too much. But then she surprised him. “Never indulge in the poison of lies.”
Rules of Entanglement Page 5