by Taylor Lee
Jax met Viviana’s gaze and at her nod, agreed. “You shamed me into it, Mick. And you’re right, we have a hell of a lot to be pleased about. As long as we agree that premature celebration, like premature ejaculation, is the bane of randy teenagers, not seasoned old guys like us.”
At the hoots of laughter from the men around the table, Jax brushed his lips across Viviana’s ear. Smiling at her untoward shiver, he murmured for her ears only, “Hang in there, darlin’. I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can. Meanwhile, lean on me. Remember, I’m not letting you go, ever.”
Chapter 3
Viviana rested against the back of the burnished leather passenger seat in Jax’s fancy car. Closing her eyes, she admitted she was exhausted. She breathed out a hard sigh, thinking how could she not be? She couldn’t remember when she’d last had a decent night’s sleep. Unbidden, the memory of the nightmare she’d had the night before washed over her, and she instantly came alert. Glancing at Jax’s profile as he expertly guided the racy Giulia through the city traffic, she didn’t have to see his rigid jaw to know what was likely to happen when they got to his condominium. God, why had she let him see how tired she was? But then, she was coming to understand that Jax could see through her practiced dissembling as no one else had.
When he pulled into the garage, she jumped out of the car before he came to a full stop. Rushing by him, she planted an ersatz grin on her face and said over her shoulder, “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m dying to get into that extravagant bathtub of yours. All that male energy surrounding me today makes this little woman eager for a deliciously smelly bubble bath and lots of equally exotic lotions.”
Not waiting to see his reaction, Viviana dashed up the staircase to their spacious designer bathroom and locked the door behind her. Leaning against it, she closed her eyes, willing the fatigue washing over her to subside. When she opened her eyes and met her reflection in the mirror, she conceded there was no way that she had fooled Jax. She looked as exhausted as she felt. She needed to shore up her defenses. It was the only way she could avoid the conversation she was afraid he’d initiate. At least a languorous bubble bath would give her time and a fighting chance to get her façade in place.
Forty-five minutes later, she congratulated the woman in the mirror. She actually felt ready to see Jax, certain she could put him off. The gossamer, nearly transparent gown and equally transparent robe she’d chosen did amazing things for her lush figure. The iridescent fibers sent streaks of soft colors shimmering over her body, highlighting every hill and valley. Knowing how much Jax loved the beautiful, erotic lingerie she wore for him, Viviana was reasonably sure any thoughts he had of confronting her would evaporate when she made her sultry entrance. That pipe dream exploded in a fiery crash when she entered the bedroom and came face-to-face with the silent man waiting for her.
He was sitting in the plush armchair across the room, one knee crossed over the other. A glass of Maker’s Mark was at his elbow, and an aromatic cigar dangled carelessly between his long, tapered fingers. His seemingly relaxed posture didn’t fool her. All she had to see were his narrowed, emerald-hard eyes as he took his time studying her. Her wildly beating heart confirmed he was like a lofty eagle gliding through the sky, waiting for the appropriate moment to swoop down and capture the field mouse cowering beneath him.
Forcing herself to meet his gaze, Viviana was surprised to see that he wasn’t angry. Rather, concern was deepening the crease between his arched brows.
He nodded to her, then snuffing out the cigar in the ashtray beside him, he rose to his feet. A slight smile tugged at his lips as he moved toward her. His voice was soft, gentle. “C’mere, baby. Let me hold you.”
When she shook her head no and stepped back, he was beside her in an instant. “Uh-uh, darlin’, there’s no getting rid of me.” Pulling her against him, he waited until she gave up and leaned into him. He murmured, “That’s better, love. Relax.” Tipping up her chin, he shook his head and smiled appreciatively. “You look beautiful, Viviana. You take my breath away. But, sweetheart, I think you know that I’ve got other plans for us tonight.” When she tried to pull away from him, he held her tighter. Rubbing her back, he said, “It’s a beautiful night, sweetheart. Let’s go up on the deck where we can enjoy it.”
Without waiting for her to answer, he scooped her up in his arms and headed for the laddered staircase to the rooftop patio. Holding her tightly against him, he carried her across the terrazzo patio to the sofa in front of the massive outdoor fireplace and its blazing fire. When he settled her on the cushioned surface, Viviana was surprised to see a pricey bottle of Seasmoke Cellars—her favorite pinot noir—and two long-stemmed glasses on the coffee table. Next to the wine was an array of fruit and other delicacies she loved. Added to the warmth of the colorful fire and his careful preparations, the starlit night might have sucked her in. That is, if she hadn’t spent a lifetime avoiding what Jax had in mind for this beautiful night.
Jax hit the remote to the high-end stereo, and in seconds the lush sounds of Lionel Ritchie’s “Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady” filled the cool night air. Viviana felt unbidden tears welling up in her eyes. Damn him. Jax would choose the one song guaranteed to melt any resistance she had. There was something about the soothing notes and loving words that never failed to touch her at a basic level.
He moved toward her with a smile and held out his hand. “How about it, lovely lady of mine? Will you dance with me?”
Unable to resist his captivating request, Viviana allowed him to pull her into his arms.
Her arms twined around his neck, he pressed one hand against her cheek, then holding her head against his chest, he slowly, gently led her in a sensuous dance across the patio. As the song came to a close, Jax twirled her in an expansive circle and murmured the words along with the singer. “Yes . . . you’re once, twice, three times a lady, and I love you, I love you . . . ”
Viviana melted against him, struggling to quell the sobs building in her throat. Horrified at how emotional she was, she was relieved when he led her back to the sofa.
Sinking down beside her, he reached for the wine bottle and poured them each a glass of the rich, dark red, aromatic wine. He handed her a glass and raised his in a salute. “To you, my lady.” He added, “And yes, I love you.”
Viviana tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, determined not to cry. Not able to keep her voice from shaking, she managed to ask, “Why . . . why do you always do this, Jax?”
He frowned slightly but didn’t hide the smile quirking his lips. “Do what, darlin’?”
Forcing her voice to firm, Viviana waved at the food and wine on the table and included the blazing fire in a wide gesture. “All . . . all of this. The beautiful night and the fire and the wine . . . and . . . that . . . song.”
Jax smiled and shrugged. “I can’t take credit for this beautiful night, but as for the rest of it, I already told you why. Because I love you.” He nodded at her wine glass. “Please, Viviana, take a sip.”
She sniffed, then tossed her head. “Why, Jax? Do you think I might not like one of my all-time favorite wines that you introduced me to?”
“No, I’m confident you will like it. In fact, after you finish that glass, I plan to pour you another. I also plan to ensure that you eat at least some of this extravagant spread Delmonico’s prepared for you.”
“Why, Jax? What are you trying to do?”
“To begin with, I’m hoping that you will relax, at least somewhat. Second, in that I was with you most of the day, I know that you didn’t eat breakfast and barely touched any of that delicious coconut curry soup I ordered especially for you.” He added with a mock frown, “You only had two mouthfuls. I counted.”
Viviana closed her eyes for a moment, acknowledging that he was right. She really hadn’t had anything to eat today. Trying for humor, she said flippantly, “Can I assume that a double shot of Bowmore doesn’t count as dinner?”
He returned her smile. “H
ey, liquid calories count, which is why I am plying you with expensive wine. But no, sweetheart. You need to eat. Food, real food. You are still recovering from your trauma, and you need to build your strength.”
Taking a sip of the exquisite wine, Viviana swirled it in her mouth to release its complex flavors. She closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure. “This really is one of my favorite wines, Jax.” She waved her hand over the beautiful food and said with a sigh, “It’s all lovely. Thank you.”
“You can thank me, sweetheart, by eating at least some of this braised octopus, these roasted vegetables, and maybe even a couple slices of Delmonico’s famous toasted levain.” He grinned. “And by the way, Archer Delmonico specifically added that treat to my order. He said he’s seen you eat half a loaf at one sitting.”
Viviana laughed. “Oh great, now my gluttonous eating habits are making the rounds. Can’t a girl have any secrets?”
Jax chuckled. “Your appetites, all of them, are my favorite things about you. I love to watch you eat. You enjoy almost everything as long as it’s fresh, tasty, and—I’ve noticed—expensive.”
When Viviana frowned at him, Jax laughed aloud and refilled her glass. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m flattered that you only like the best. It speaks well of me.”
Viviana snorted. “As if you don’t know how extraordinary you are. For God’s sake, Jax, when you walk in a room, every head turns—the women and the men. But you know that, don’t you?”
Jax eyes twinkled. “Yeah, I kinda like the way things quiet down when I enter, which I’ve always blamed on the fact that you are by my side.”
“Nice try, big guy.” She grinned and gave a saucy shrug. “But I’ll admit it if you will. We both like to make an entrance.”
Seeing Jax observing her closely, a satisfied expression crossing his face, Viviana realized that not only had she finished the food he’d piled on her plate but that she was halfway through a second glass of wine. She put down her glass and shoved at her nearly empty plate. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Jax.”
“And what might that be, Viviana?”
She glared at him. “You think if you can get me to eat extraordinary food and . . . and drink wine you know I love, that . . . that you can get me to talk.”
Jax leaned toward her, his hands resting on his knees, and met her gaze with a quizzical expression. “Hmm, darlin’. Do you think that I just might want you to eat because you haven’t eaten a damn thing today? And that maybe I want to ply you with superb wine so that you might relax—just a little? Hell, sweetheart, I don’t know if you realized, but you’ve actually smiled at me. Twice.” He picked up the bottle of wine and topped off each of their glasses. Putting the empty bottle on the table, he blew out an audible sigh and faced her head-on. “And yes, after I’ve done all of those sneaky things, I do intend to talk with you.” He added, “To have the conversation that we both know we need to have.”
Viviana rose to her feet and backed away from him. “I don’t want to have a conversation, Jax. With anyone—especially you. And I don’t want any more of this food or wine. In fact, I’m going to bed. I’m tired, Jax. I haven’t been getting enough sleep . . . ” She stopped, knowing that her cheeks had flushed at her inadvertent error.
He pressed his lips together in a straight line, then said quietly, “C’mere, baby.” He pointed to the place on the sofa where she’d been sitting. “Here, Viviana. And you’re right, sweetheart. You haven’t been getting enough sleep. That’s hard to do when your nightmares wake you up in terror.”
Even though at base she knew what he was doing, Viviana was still surprised that he clearly was taking her on. She knew her only chance to avoid talking with him was to play on his sympathies, plead fatigue. She put up her hands as if in defeat. “Please, Jax, I truly am exhausted. I . . . I promise that we can talk sometime later.”
His expression hardened. She knew him well enough to know that he was determined, but so was she. Rounding the sofa, she headed for the staircase but stopped as if she’d run into a cement wall. His voice was soft, but his question could have been a rifle shot. It hit her with the force of a bazooka blast to her gut.
“Was Sherman the first man who assaulted you, Viviana?”
Chapter 4
Later, Viviana admitted that she would have collapsed or fallen to the floor if Jax hadn’t caught her. He was beside her in seconds, capturing her in his arms. He carried her back to the sofa and settled her against the back corner. Wrapping a throw around her, he tried to hand her a glass of water. When she shook her head, refusing to take it, he said, “You need to drink this. We have a hard conversation ahead of us, Viviana. You’re going to need your strength.”
Minutes later, Viviana was glad that he’d forced her to drink the water. It helped clear her brain. But for the moment, all she could do was try to make sense of the hideous truth. “How do you know that name, Jax?”
He met her gaze head-on and said quietly, “It’s the name of the man in your nightmare.”
Struggling to breathe, Viviana stammered, “That . . . that wasn’t my question, Jax.”
Jax’s eyes narrowed further. “Tell me, Viviana, was Sherman actually married to Courtney Reynolds or merely one of her trysts?”
Truly shocked that he knew her mother’s name, Viviana struggled for coherence. The most she could do was repeat her inane question. “How . . . how do you know that?”
When he merely pressed his lips together and shook his head, his silence allowed her to come to grips with the hideous truth. She’d been so shocked that he knew the name of the repulsive man she’d spent two-thirds of her life trying to forget, she hadn’t questioned how Jax knew. But the fact that he also knew who her mother was confirmed the ugly truth. Galvanized by the fury surging in her gut, Viviana shoved at the throw and sat up on the edge of the sofa. She wasn’t surprised that her voice shook. It was a wonder she sounded somewhat rational when what she really wanted to do was to scream at him. Pinning him with a fierce glare, she bit out incriminating words. “Damn you, Jax. You . . . investigated me.”
He blew out a hard sigh and then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, baby, I did. Serge Stryker helped me. He gave me his report today. It confirmed what I suspected. Although, I’ll be frank, it was even more damning than I’d expected.”
Viviana leapt to her feet. Her outrage gave her strength. “You . . . you not only went behind my back and investigated me, but you brought your buddies into it?” Her voice rising, she added shrilly, “It wasn’t enough for you to know my shame, Jax? Who else did you tell? Greg? What about Matías and Paul? Do they also know? Know all the ugly details about the woman you supposedly love?”
Jax rose to his feet, his rigid jaw and slate-hard eyes confirming his shock, but Viviana didn’t care. She only knew that she had to get away from him. She couldn’t bear that Jax knew her horrible past. But the fact that he’d shared it with his special operative cohorts was more than she could stand. Not knowing how she would ever recover from his betrayal, she shoved at his hands and ran toward the stairs, determined to leave his house and never come back. She was on the top rung of the stairs when he caught her. Her anger was so intense, she almost broke his hold. Unfortunately, he was twice as strong as she was, and the thunderclouds looming in his emerald-green eyes confirmed that he might be as angry as she was.
His voice rang with ill-disguised fury as he wrestled her into an unbreakable hold. “Stop, Viviana. Now.” When she continued to fight against him, frantic to free herself, he tightened his grip further. Knowing that it was impossible to get away from him, Viviana gave in to her frustration and burst into tears.
With a herculean effort, Jax loosened his hold on her. The adrenaline coursing through him almost made it impossible. Doing the best he could to contain his ire, he carried Viviana back to the sofa. Refusing to put the sobbing woman down, he held her on his lap. Forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths, he fought his fury. He knew it was irrational, but he was
truly stunned at her hideous accusations. Even knowing that at some level she didn’t believe the horrid things she had accused him of, they stung all the same. For several long moments, he rubbed her back, and when he was calm enough to speak, he began murmuring comforting words to her. When her sobs lessened, he took a chance that she might be ready to talk.
Sitting her up against the back of the sofa, he reached for her chin, forcing her to look at him. Seeing her swollen eyes and tear-streaked face, he almost wished he hadn’t. Betrayed by the catch in his voice, he said, “As challenging as this is, Viviana, we need to talk.” He held her gaze. “You understand that, don’t you?” When she didn’t answer, he pressed her. “Nod if you understand, baby. I need to know that you’re ready to have this conversation. But know that whether you are or not, we are going to talk tonight.”
When she closed her eyes, refusing to look at him, but briefly nodded, he said, “Good. I’m glad you understand.” She didn’t respond and still refused to look at him. He added, “I don’t know if it is wise, given both of our emotional states, but I sure as hell could use a shot or two of scotch. How about you, sweetheart? Or if you prefer, I can open another bottle of the Seasmoke Cellars. Or, best of all, I can get you another glass of water.”
He didn’t know if it was wise, but when she shook her head and murmured, “Scotch, please.” Jax was relieved. Walking over to his well-stocked bar, he took his time retrieving two glasses and a bottle of Maker’s Mark. Setting them down on the coffee table, he poured them each a glass of the potent alcohol and handed one to her. Settling back on the sofa next to her, he raised his glass. “Here’s to an important and challenging conversation. And to the woman who is courageous enough to have it.”
Viviana hesitated, then met his gaze for the first time since her breakdown. She said in a barely audible voice, “I . . . I don’t know if I can, Jax.”