She clasped her hands in front of her. “Oh, goodie. A plan.”
“You won’t like it.”
“As long as I don’t have to marry anyone, I can deal.”
“You and I are going to make it look like we’re engaged. That we’ve been seeing each other for months and now we’re ready to go public with the news.”
“Uh-huh. And why is that?”
“Firstly, that’ll make your father happy and less inclined to share secrets that weren’t his in the first place. And secondly, it’ll give me some time to get some dirt on him. Something that’ll keep his mouth shut.”
“Okay, that seems logical.”
It was. Very logical. “Thirdly,” he went on, “I want us seen around the city together. If you get yourself a public profile, it will be harder for you to disappear if you father decides to do any double-crossing. I’m not sure any of his colleagues would want the heat of being connected with Jax Morrow’s ex-fiancée.”
Pandora blinked, a smile slowly curving her mouth, color creeping back into her cheeks. “Yeah, my God, that could work.” Her brow creased. “But how long do you think this is going to take?”
“A few weeks at most, maybe. My private investigators are second to none and they work fast.”
She gave him an oddly assessing look. “You know, I could get the info you need and quicker than a few weeks.”
He frowned. “How?”
“I’m quite good with computers as it happens. There’s dirt I can dig up on him easily enough.”
It was tempting, he had to admit. And yet … No matter how vital this was and no matter how much of a prick Garret happened to be, the fact remained that she would be working against her own father. Putting him in prison if it came to that. Maybe he’d treated her like crap and maybe she hated him but he was still her father.
“No,” he said flatly. “I won’t have you ratting out your own father on your conscience.”
Pandora rolled her eyes. “Y’know, I think my conscience can stand it. He’s a bastard who—”
“I don’t care what he’s done. He’s still your father and family is important. If the dirt needs to be dug, I’ll be the one doing it.”
But she still didn’t look happy. “Yeah, but … a few weeks?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Where does that leave me? I mean, where am I supposed to go?” She took an audible breath. “I don’t have anyone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re literally the only person I know who isn’t associated with Dad. At least in real life.”
“Real life?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I have a few online friends but that’s it. A bit hard to make friends when you’re followed everywhere you go by bodyguards.”
“Everywhere?”
“Yeah. I’m never allowed to go out by myself, never allowed to see anyone who isn’t associated with my father or his friends, never allowed to talk to anyone who hasn’t been personally vetted by him.” She turned away, glancing out the windows, the exquisite line of her back left bare by her red silk gown.. “I don’t even have any other family. My mom died when I was seven and dad cut off all contact with her side of the family. I’m entirely dependent on him. I don’t even have a bank account. Even my credit card is linked to his.”
Unwanted sympathy twisted inside him. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like to be so isolated. So cut off. All that passion and vitality trapped. Nick Garret needed a jail cell and fast.
Pandora turned back, her dark eyes meeting his. “All I have is the clothes I’m wearing and nothing else. I mean, if I could borrow some money I could go get a hotel, get some clothes, get something—”
“You won’t need a hotel. You’ll be staying here.” The words came out of him before he even had a chance to think.
You weren’t supposed to be going there again.
Well, he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. This was entirely logical. As his fiancée, she would be living with him.
Because she’s yours?
No, of course not. There was her father to consider—he might try to snatch her back and there was no way he was risking that happening to her. And if she’d led the kind of sheltered life he thought she had, then he didn’t want to let her out on the streets by herself yet. Not without making sure she had a few support systems in place. A bit of independence.
Yes, that made perfect, logical sense.
Her eyes had gone wide. “Stay here?”
“Of course. You’re my fiancée, aren’t you?”
An expression he couldn’t read crossed her face. She turned away, pacing restlessly back to the windows, looking out of them. “But that’s the thing. I’m not. Which makes me … what?” There was a slight edge to her voice. “Your roomie?”
You want her in your bed …
Jax ignored the thought. That wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t afford another slip like he had last night, not considering the consequences of this one. As it was, the news that Jax Morrow was engaged to the daughter of a notorious criminal was so not what Morrow needed right now. Sleeping with her again would only add more complications to the mix and erode his self-control still further. All he had to do was stop thinking about it.
“I would never expect otherwise,” he said coolly. “I have plenty of guestrooms so you can take your pick.”
Pandora gave him an unreadable look. “And I can leave whenever I want?”
Like he’d ever do to her what her father did. “Naturally.”
“So, if I wanted to go to a hotel and stay there, I could? I mean, you’d have to give me the money initially but I’d pay you back once I’d found a job. If I could find a job.”
No. She’s yours. She stays with you.
“Yes. You could do that.” He had to force out the words.
Her gaze narrowed. “You don’t want me to go, do you?”
He didn’t know how she’d managed to figure that one out but he didn’t like that she had. “Obviously I don’t want you to go. I wouldn’t be able to protect you, for a start.”
Slowly, she came toward him, her heels making crisp little tapping sounds. “Don’t talk to me about protection. That’s what Dad used to tell me. That he kept me a damn prisoner for my own good.” She stopped right in front of him, tilting her head back so her gaze met his. “I say bullshit. Why don’t you tell me the real reason you don’t want me to go?”
Jax held himself still. This close the scent of her threaded through his brain like opium smoke, making everything around him seem hazy and out of focus. The only clear thing in the room was her. “What else could it possibly be?” he asked, his voice going husky.
Her lashes lowered slightly, her mouth taking on the sensual curve that had gotten him so hard the night before. Jesus, how did she do that? How did she manage to slip under his detachment, undermine his control with only a smile?
“Oh, what about the little fact that you want me?”
“That’s got nothing to do with it.”
“Uh-huh.” She paused, giving him that seductive look again. “So, you’re not planning on taking me to your bed and keeping me there, then?”
He could feel a muscle ticking in his jaw. Christ, that’s exactly what he wanted to do. Exactly. “No. I told you that’s not happening again.”
Pandora lifted a hand to his tie, straightening it, her fingers brushing his throat. Lightning flashed through him, a line direct to his cock. “Hmmm,” she murmured thoughtfully. “That’s a shame. Because although I like your plan, there’s not much in it for me. And to be honest, I’m kind of sick of having everyone else decide my future and expecting me to go along with it. I want to be the one to choose for once.”
“I’m not sure what else you want.” God, he wanted to touch her. Wanted to put his hands on her, push her up against a convenient wall, thrust inside her … No. He had to be in control. He made mistakes when he wasn’t. Screwed thin
gs up. Hurt people. His mother. Sean. And Donovan, too.
“Use your imagination, Hunt.” Her fingers trailed down his shirt, touching each button. “Like you did last night, for example.”
“I’m not sleeping with you again, Pandora.”
“Is that a fact?” Her hand moved even lower, brushing the front of his trousers. “I think your cock would beg to differ.”
He tried to breathe and stay calm as her fingers traced his rapidly growing erection. Failed. So he reached out and grabbed her wrist, gently but inexorably pulling her hand away. “You’re very forward for a recently deflowered virgin.”
But that fire and challenge was back in her eyes, along with a desire that set his own burning even more intensely. “Why shouldn’t I be? I may have been a virgin but I’m not a total innocent. Anyway, I’m a free woman, Jax Morrow. Do you have any idea what that means for me? For the first time in twenty-five years, I’m out of that damn tower. Away from my stupid father. I can go anywhere, do anything I want to. And shit, it’s my freaking birthday today, too. So what I want goes. And firstly, what I want is as much sex as I can handle. So if I’m staying here with you, I’m not sleeping alone.”
Desire curled long fingers around him, squeezing him tight.
You want to so why fight it? You can’t refuse her.
No, he couldn’t. Not after what she’d told him. Not after knowing what kind of life she’d left behind him. Anyway, he could handle her. If he was careful, giving her what she wanted wouldn’t be a problem.
Part of himself told him he’d just rationalized everything nicely but he ignored that part. Hell, maybe sleeping with her, working out this chemistry would even be good. Make it more manageable.
“That’s all you want?”
“Um … no. I’ve got a list if you must know. Secondly, I need some time to go shopping—I’m getting kind of sick of this dress and also you tore my panties. I’m going to need some more of those, too.”
Christ, she didn’t have panties on? In spite of himself, his gaze dropped.
Pandora’s finger caught him under the chin, grinning. “All in good time, Hunt. For now, shopping. Which I will all pay back eventually. And that brings me back to item number three. My financial status.”
“We’ll open an account for you. I’ll direct money into—”
“No. You aren’t going to give me money, Mr. Morrow. What you’re going to do is help me find a job.”
Chapter 7
Art galleries. Why was it always art galleries?
Pandora squinted as the flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras lit up the night the moment she stepped out of the limo. Jax got out behind her, his arm, heavy and possessive, sliding around her waist. Providing the photo opportunity this whole evening was in aid of.
An exclusive charity bash at an old renovated Tribeca warehouse where a new pop-up gallery was showing some work from some up-and-coming new artists. The third of Donovan’s organized “outings” engineered to introduce Jax Morrow’s fiancée to society and the world at large.
The previous two—a lunch at Simon’s, one of Manhattan’s newest and most ridiculously exclusive restaurants, then the day before that an apparently “casual” shopping date at Barneys—had been deliberately low key. But this one was their first “official” appearance together and the press had been primed.
Pandora found it a little overwhelming.
Jax’s hand at her back as they joined the stream of people entering the gallery was distracting, too, which didn’t help. He’d insisted on the gown she was wearing, which was red—his apparent preference—and almost backless. Again. It meant his fingers touched her bare skin and that was so not a good idea when the chemistry between them was still burning just as brightly as it had that night three days ago. The past couple of nights of hot sex hadn’t done a thing to make it burn any less bright, either, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else but dirty thoughts.
Inside, a glass of champagne appeared in her hand and the round of society introductions began. After a while her face began to ache with the polite smile she’d had fixed onto it. God, how the hell was she going to remember who everyone was? Not that she really needed to, not when she and Jax wouldn’t be permanent fixtures together anyway. In the end, this was all for show.
“Are you okay?” Jax murmured in her ear, maneuvering her a bit away from the group of people they’d been talking to. “You look a bit … ”
“Overwhelmed?” She shivered as his breath brushed over her neck, making her skin prickle with heat. “Yes. I’m not used to this many people.”
They were on a railed walkway that ran around the sides of the main warehouse space, the glittering society crowd moving below. The place had an industrial feel to it, lots of exposed brick and concrete floors, the lighting discreet and hidden except for where it spotlighted the art on the walls. Extra atmosphere was provided by candles placed in lots of smoky glass holders on various different surfaces, the light flickering and dancing.
“You’re doing very well.” His fingers, resting against her spine, stroked gently against bare skin, a tender gesture. He’d touched her like this on the other two dates they’d had and initially she’d found it disconcerting. Casual displays of affection had been few and far between in her life and she didn’t know quite how to handle it. By the second date, though, she’d got used to his touches. Had come to like them in fact. They made her feel good. Affection was something she’d been starved of for a long time and now that she knew what it felt like, she wanted more.
She tried to repress the tremble of delight that went through her as his fingers skimmed higher, glancing up to see if he’d noticed. He wasn’t looking at her, his attention roving over the crowds below the walkway, still absently stroking her back. He was wearing a tux tonight and God, he looked amazing, candlelight casting shadows over his strong, intense face. The formality of his clothes only emphasized the dangerous quality of him, that element of primitive power that had attracted her so powerfully the night they’d met.
It was odd that even though they’d spent time together the past couple of days—mostly on those dates it had to be said—he still remained as much an enigma to her now as he had been the night they’d met in the bar. When they’d talked, it had mostly been him offering her jobs, while the other times … Well, they’d been too busy giving each other pleasure for anything else.
Not that there was any reason for them to get to know each other, not when this would all be over soon enough anyway. But still, it felt wrong. He was her first lover and apart from some media gossip and the fact that he ran New York’s biggest company, she knew next to nothing about him.
“Tell me something,” she said impulsively. “Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”
He glanced at her in surprise. “Why?”
“In case anyone asks.” A lame reason but she couldn’t think of a better one that wouldn’t expose her in some way. “I’m supposed to be your fiancée, after all. I mean, what if we’re interviewed?”
Jax’s gaze flickered away for a moment, looking over the crowd once more. She knew what he was doing, checking for the press. His arm around her tightened, pulling her closer and although she told herself sternly it didn’t mean anything, she still couldn’t stop herself from wanting to arch her back with pleasure like a cat being stroked.
“We’re not doing interviews. I made that quite clear to Donovan.”
“Still …” Indulging herself, she put a hand on his chest, touching the snowy cotton of his shirt, feeling the powerful muscle beneath. “Why not? Perhaps we might even be … I don’t know, friends or something.”
Dark brows drew down. “Friends?” He said the word as if it were in a foreign language and he didn’t understand it.
Pandora stared at the cotton under her fingers. “Why not? I’ve … never had a real friend before.” It sounded lame when she said it aloud and abruptly she wished she’d never said it. “Actually forget it. Th
at’s stupid and—”
His fingers gripped her chin all of a sudden, tipping her head back so his gaze met hers. “What do you mean you’ve never had a friend?”
“I did tell you I wasn’t allowed to go out anywhere. Which meant I never got a chance to meet anyone. I had some online friends but … they didn’t know who I was in real life and I never told them.”
“Why not?”
“Who wants to be friends with Nick Garret’s daughter? No one, that’s who.”
Jax didn’t say anything for a long moment, still frowning as he stared at her. “God, your father’s a prick.”
“I’m not arguing.” She took a breath. “You’re basically the first person I’ve ever had the opportunity to get to know. The first person who … ”
“Who what?”
Longing burned inside her all of a sudden. Bright and fierce, surprising in its intensity. She didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to know how much this meant to her but he was holding her chin and she couldn’t look away. “I guess … who might want to get to know me, too.”
Again he said nothing, his blue eyes searching her face. Then he bent, brushing her mouth with his in a tender kiss that had the longing swelling against the back of her throat, making it difficult to breathe.
Stupid. She was stupid. Why should she want someone to know her? And not just “someone.” Him. It didn’t matter surely. There were would be plenty of time to meet people and find friends. Do all the things she’d missed out. Once the problem of her father was taken care of and she was finally free. She didn’t need Jax in particular.
When he raised his head, she smiled up at him, playing her part in their deception. “Hey, forget I said anything, okay? I was only—”
“I hate parties.”
“What?”
“You wanted to know something about me that no one else knows. Well, parties bore me to tears and all I want to do is go home.”
Pandora blinked in surprise, warmth uncurling inside her.
“Your turn,” Jax said softly.
“Uh … basically no one knows anything about me so … you already know more than just about anyone else. Including Dad.”
The Billion Dollar Bachelor Page 7