“What the hell are you doing here, Jade?” The question was growled from behind me in a raspy voice with which I was intimately familiar. I swiveled on my heel and came face-to-face with Lucas St. James. In his three-piece suit, with his dark hair perfectly styled and chocolate brown eyes glaring daggers at me, he looked nothing like the man who’d left me tousled and naked in a hotel room bed six weeks ago. “And why the fuck were you giving my dad’s lawyer a blow job under his desk?”
I felt the little blood which was left in my face after my puke-fest drain. I wasn’t sure if it was because Lucas had just said “dad” which meant he was most likely the step-brother in question or if it was the blow job insult.
Mr. Wilkinson jumped to his feet and threw his hands up in protest. “She was doing no such thing, Lucas. You should be ashamed of yourself for even suggesting something so untoward of this sweet young woman.”
Lucas’s gaze dropped to my lips, his eyes heating. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d bet that he was remembering me on my knees, doing exactly what he’d just accused me of. But to him, not the lawyer. “I’ve done a hell of a lot more than suggest it.”
Yeah, that’s exactly what he’d been doing. My cheeks heated in embarrassment as the lawyer looked at us questioningly. Lucas had spoken low enough that he couldn’t hear what he’d said, but there was no mistaking the tension between the two of us.
“Please, why don’t the both of you take a seat so we can go over the details of Jonathan’s will?”
I circled his desk and dropped back down into the chair I’d been seated in earlier. Lucas moved forward, coming to stand to the side of the desk instead of taking the other seat. My gaze slid up his body, enjoying the sight of his long legs and lean torso, before coming to rest on his face. His attention was directed away from me, and I took advantage of the moment to savor the masculine beauty of his face. My fingers itched with the desire to paint him, to finally do justice to the portrait I’d started over again at least a dozen times when I should have been focused on the paintings for my first show.
Our weekend together was supposed to have only been a fling, but I’d quickly become fascinated by Lucas to the point of distraction. If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in meeting a looming deadline for my show while also dealing with my mom’s death, I probably would have tried to find him weeks ago to convince him that I hadn’t known who he was and to see if this obsession was a two-way street.
“Why in the world would she need to be here to discuss the terms of my dad’s will?” Lucas’s question held a healthy dose of suspicion.
“Because the woman Jonathan married the day before the car crash was her mom, and he made arrangements for Jade to be taken care of in the case of both their deaths.”
“She’s the gold digger’s daughter?” His eyes raked me up and down, icing over. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
There went the two-way street idea. Evidently, he didn’t share my feelings and wasn’t interested in more than what we already had together. It stung, but it was better to know now instead of later. I probably shouldn’t have found the irony of my mom’s situation the least bit amusing because now karma came back to bite me in the ass as I stared gape-mouthed at Lucas. Not only was he the man with whom I’d had a weekend fling, but he was also responsible for the most likely explanation for my persistent nausea for these past few days. Crapballs, it looked like I really shouldn’t have put off taking a pregnancy test and hunting him down if it was positive.
Chapter 2
Lucas
There was a part of me that was devastated to find out Jade was the daughter of that ditzy, conniving, gold digger who’d bewitched my dad with her ... assets, to gain access to his assets. I’d hoped my suspicions about Jade were a product of my paranoia and I hated that they’d been confirmed by this latest development.
That part still wanted to lick, bite, and suck on every inch of her skin, especially her tits as they spilled out of my hands. It begged to sink deep inside her, make her scream my name. Fuck her until we were both too exhausted to continue. Then find a little more energy and fuck her again.
The other part of me was fucking pissed. Were they in it together? Was this some kind of mother-daughter con? My father and I had always been close. He was my hero, everything I wanted to be, strong, logical, and a brilliant businessman. I followed in his footsteps, wanting to make him proud. So, when he started dating Diamond, a stripper name if I ever heard one, I was shocked that he would let himself be controlled by his other head, instead of the one above his shoulders. I did my best to convince him that she was only after his money, but he wouldn’t be swayed.
“Dad, you need to use your logic and get on solid ground. Then you’ll see that she is only after your money,” I whisper-yelled, conscious of the fact that we were in public, having lunch at a four-star restaurant.
He laughed and shook his head, as though I’d said something ridiculous. What the fuck was so crazy about wanting him to see through the blonde bimbo he’d proposed to the day before?
“You may be right, Lucas. I don’t think you are, but it’s possible. However, whatever her reasons were in the beginning, I promise you they’ve changed. When you get to be my age”—I rolled my eyes, he was sixty but with the body and energy of a man at least ten years his junior— “you get tired of being alone and if you find a beautiful woman who makes you laugh and feel loved, one that is amazing in bed”—I cringed—“you do your best to woo her. And son, trust me, I know how to get and keep a woman. Looking back, I’m the one who pursued her.”
I scoffed, “What’s keeping her from running off when she gets her greedy hands on your money?” I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing his reactions to my questions. “Let me guess, she offered to sign a prenup but the selfless gesture was enough to convince you to marry her without one?”
Dad’s brown eyes, ones that looked exactly like mine, lit with a sliver of irritation. If I didn’t know him, hadn’t seen all sides of him as his son, I would have completely missed it. He could kick anyone’s ass at poker and it’s one of the things that made him so successful.
“As a matter of fact, she did offer to sign a prenup—“
I cut him off with a bitter laugh. “Of course she did.”
He leaned in, looking at me with disapproval, and I withered inside, hating that look because it meant I’d disappointed him.
“Are you implying that I’m suddenly stupid, going senile in my old age?” he clipped.
Yeah, definitely feeling like a kid being scolded for talking back.
He continued without a response from me, “I asked her to sign a prenup and she agreed.”
I felt my eyes widen. I was shocked.
“And after, I promptly tore it up.”
Not so shocked.
“She was completely understanding about it, not the least bit insulted either.”
Aaaaand, opinion of the gold digger restored.
I glanced at Jade in my peripheral, struck once again by her beauty and angry at myself for noticing. When you have money, it’s easy to become jaded (pun intended) and assume every woman is either after your fortune or what you can do for them in bed, until they prove otherwise.
I wasn’t exactly sure which category Jade fell into, but like all other women, she’d gone after me because she wanted something.
I’d gotten lucky in the physical department, inheriting my father’s six foot two height and naturally muscular body. With the exception of the color, my eyes and thick lashes were from my mother, as well as the hard angles of my face, though hers were obviously more feminine.
I was a computer nerd through and through, but I was able to counter balance it by playing high school football and excelling in art history. Girls dug a guy with brains and brawn.
At sixteen, my father caught me hacking into...well, places that would get me thrown in prison for the rest of my life. Instead of punishing me, he put me to work in his company. School was beyond easy for someone with
my IQ, but I never said anything because I wanted to stay in the same grade and school as my friends. I thought I was getting away with it, until he informed me that he knew, but wanted me to make my own decisions.
I stayed in high school, but I started taking college classes and with the credits from working at our solar energy company, I graduated with a masters in Electrical Engineering and one in Computer Engineering by the time I was twenty. Eight years later, I’d worked my way up to executive. My father owned the company and I was to be his successor. However, we still had a board of directors who held forty-seven percent of the vote.
They were older than me, set in their ways, which frustrated me to no end considering we were supposed to be developing cutting edge solar technology. But, it wasn’t the product, it was our image they were more concerned about. They were conservative, and the clients they brought to the table were the same. They expected your home life to reflect your business.
I’d brought up to Dad the fact that Diamond would in no way be acceptable to the board and clients we catered to at that moment. He shrugged and told me they’d get over it. That we could overrule their decisions anyway. While true, he seemed to be ignoring the fact that if any of those guys left, they would take their golf buddies, our clients, with them and I hadn’t had enough time to bring in sufficient new business to withstand the loss.
I vowed to never make his same mistakes. And yet, there I was, my moment of weakness staring me in the face, with pale skin and a sickened look on her face. I wondered for half a second if she had faked our whole weekend. It was a ridiculous notion, nobody was that good an actress, and I was very well aware of my skills in the bedroom.
The chemistry between us was crackling even now, my traitorous body coming alive at being so near her. I focused on my anger, willing my cock to back the hell off. But no, it was still every bit as strong as when we first met.
My life was centered around the company and everything else came second. I needed an outlet for my creative side, though, something that was entirely separate and only mine. I had only ever shared it with my father. I’d bought a small art gallery and took great pride in helping small, local artists share their passion. In some cases, it even became the boost their career needed.
I was at the gallery one night, around six weeks ago, and after finishing up some paperwork, I decided to wander about and check out our newest artist’s talents. That’s when I saw her. She was average height, the top of her head reaching my shoulders. That was the only thing ordinary about her, though. Her wavy, platinum hair was pulled back from her face, in a ponytail that screamed to be pulled while she was being fucked. The profile of her face was classically beautiful, lashes so thick and long, I was curious to see up close if they were fake.
She turned and caught me giving her the once over, but it didn’t stop my eyes from continuing downward, landing on the most spectacular pair of tits I’d ever seen. They were large, almost too big for her frame, but she pulled it off and my mouth practically watered at the sight of those perfectly round globes.
She was slim, with a tiny waist, a slight flare of hips, and endless legs encased in sexy stilettos. I was suddenly imagining those legs wrapped around me, squeezing me on the outside and her pussy doing the same on the inside. I swear, I almost came in my pants like a horny teenager.
She had the body of a stripper, and a bolt of jealousy shot through me at the thought of any other man seeing her naked body. It was unexpected, but it didn’t stop the growing confidence that I was going to end this night with her under me. She seemed to sense where my thoughts had gone because she blushed, making my already hard cock turn to stone. She was so fucking beautiful.
We met in the middle of the room, as though we were drawn together by our chemistry. It was a fucking movie moment, a scene from one of those ridiculous chick flicks. I was beyond aroused to see that there was nothing fake about her body.
“Lucas St. James,” I introduced myself.
She smiled, almost shyly. “Jade Jones.”
I took back my recent thought about nothing being fake. Her name was obviously made up, and I hoped it didn’t mean she actually was a stripper. I worried about the way it would look if it got out that I’d spent time with a woman like her. However, right then and there, I decided I didn’t give a fuck. I was going to have her.
“I’m going to be blunt, to save wasted time,” I stated, “I desperately want you under me. Can I convince you to leave and spend the night with me?”
She hesitated, and for a moment I was terrified she was going to refuse, but then she smiled again and nodded, the sweet blush returning to her cheeks.
One night in a hotel turned into a weekend and I was starting to realize that I would almost surely never have enough of her. Then a cold bucket of reality was thrown at me.
She’d mentioned in passing that she was an artist and I assumed it was a hobby. I casually asked what had brought her to the gallery, too busy focusing on how I wanted to have her next to care about the question.
“I’ve turned in a portfolio and I’m hoping they’ll choose me for their next show,” she chattered excitedly.
I froze as the fog of lust receded, replaced by disappointment and rage. “So, this was an attempt to up your chances? Fuck the owner so he’ll be too enamored with your”—I ran my eyes down her body—“charms to pick anyone else? I’ve got to say, Jade,” I spit her name, “even if you do take your clothes off for a living, I didn’t think you were the kind of girl to sell your body.”
She gasped in fake indignation, but she wasn’t fooling me anymore.
“What are you talking about? I haven’t done that—sold my—how could you think—?” she sputtered. “Wait, you’re the owner?”
I rolled my eyes and got out of bed, starting to dress. “Drop the act, Jade. It’s the St. James Gallery, for fuck’s sake. There’s no way you didn’t know it was my gallery.”
Dressed, I grabbed my keys and wallet and stormed to the door. I couldn’t help glancing back and saw her sitting on the bed, her eyes wide in supposed shock, her mouth forming a little O. For half a heartbeat, I wondered if I was wrong and she was being genuine. But, experience had taught me better, so I walked out and slammed the door shut.
Chapter 3
Jade
At first glance, it appeared as though Lucas’s full attention was on Mr. Wilkinson while he slit open a sealed envelope and pulled out a stack of papers. But I felt the weight of his scrutiny on me as I sipped on the glass of water I’d been given and popped a piece of gum into my mouth. The hair rose on my arms the same way it had when I felt him looking at me the night we’d met. My gaze darted up quickly, only to find him sending me a sidelong glance before I tilted my head to stare down at my hands. The brief moment of eye contact was enough to send shivers down my spine while I remembered how his eyes darkened with lust until it was virtually impossible to discern the difference between his pupils and the dark brown of his irises. How it felt to dig my nails into the taut skin of his back as he hammered into me.
Crap! I shook my head when the clearing of Mr. Wilkinson’s throat penetrated through the sensual fog that seemed to wrap around me anytime Lucas was near. It was the same effect which had me agreeing to sleep with him within minutes of our first meeting. And it was distracting me from the important matters at hand—finding out what my mom’s husband of one day had left me in his will and finding a stick to pee on at the first opportunity. Finding out if I was pregnant had moved from a niggling doubt in my mind to a screaming alert of urgency. Right after I got the lawyer to repeat what he’d just said while I was shaking off my Lucas induced daze. Because clearly it had been important based on Lucas’s reaction.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he roared. “There’s no way in hell my father was stupid enough to do this.”
“Do what?” I repeated, shifting my attention away from Lucas and back to Mr. Wilkinson. “I’m sorry, could you repeat what you said?”
“Jonathan made arrangements for you to inherit half of his personal estate in the event of his and your mother’s deaths. Had she survived, she would have inherited it in your place. A smaller settlement would have been made upon you, since she would have been alive to provide assistance should you need it. All of his shares in the company will go to Lucas, of course, and the other half of the personal estate as well.”
“He did?” I gasped, feeling stunned by this turn of events. I hadn’t even ever met him. Why had he thought to include me in his will? And why in the world did he think my mom would have helped me if I needed it? I’d been supporting myself while trying to make it as an artist without any help from her, using the money from the life insurance policy my father had left me when he passed away four years ago.
“Don’t sit there, pretending to look innocent,” Lucas growled. “You had to have known what your mom was up to; convincing my dad to change his will like this.”
“It was actually my doing,” Mr. Wilkinson interjected. “Jonathan stopped into my office a couple days before his marriage. He said he wanted to talk to me about the prenuptial agreement he’d asked me to draw up while Di was out dress shopping. He let me know it was no longer necessary, a decision I advised him against, considering the vastness of his estate. He was adamant and I had no choice but to abide by his decision.”
“That doesn’t explain the change in my dad’s will.”
“I asked him if he wanted to make any changes to it with the upcoming nuptials. I didn’t want to run the risk of having assets frozen if Di ever had reason to contest it in probate court, not with the company as part of his estate.”
“And at no point during this visit did it cross your mind to ask him if he’d lost his mind?” Lucas’s question was thick with sarcasm.
Mr. Wilkinson leveled him with a glare. “You and I both know your father was of sound mind and body. If making decisions based on love was grounds to overturn a will, then our legal system would be in serious trouble.”
My Step-Dad's Brother Page 8