by Skye Jordan
He jerked around on the stool, startling her. Her eyes went wide, and her hand came up.
“L…Lexi?”
No. This couldn’t be Lexi. His gaze traveled over her body—his only real reference point. The top of her dress was sleeveless, with just two thin straps on each shoulder. The fabric was sheer, everything underneath hidden only by the subtle similarly colored sequence across the bodice, fading as it moved down the front and belted in a solid row of sequins at her small waist. Her breasts swelled beneath the fabric, making the sequins wink and tease the eye that direction. Simple sequined sandals matched.
“Yeah, it’s me.” She smiled and the expression softened her from a knockout to a heartbreaker. Her eyes sparkled, teeth glimmered, and a dimple hinted deep in one cheek. Jax’s heart stuttered.
“Holy fuck,” he murmured. A familiar craving took root at the center of his body. One that flared quick and hot and made him suddenly, almost uncontrollably, ravenous.
But something dark had layered beneath the desire and blocked his affection. Jax zeroed in on her face again. This woman might be the Lexi he’d slept with, but this…situation…wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure what, but he’d been screwed enough to know when it was going to happen again.
He pushed off the stool and stood, a flurry of emotions whipping through him, but the one leading was hurt. A deep hurt that signaled Jax had let himself put way too much hope into this woman—a woman he knew nothing about.
“Jax, what’s wrong?” She reached out, put a hand on his arm. The touch spread heat along his skin, and his heart rate sped. Then she laughed, the sound nervous while pulling her phone from a small purse. “You probably have women coming on to you all the time, and I know I’m late. I was so nervous I stood outside… Here, look…”
She turned her phone to face him. His own words from his last text to her letting her know he was at the bar, waiting, stared back at him.
He kept his gaze on them, his insides a total mess. He didn’t question her identity, at least not since he’d recognized that dimple. That smile. He only questioned her motive. But…no…he’d initiated the conversation that had brought her here.
Shit, he was really confused.
She lowered her phone. Her smile flickered, and nerves darkened her eyes. “I guess you didn’t Google me after all. Thought for sure…” A look of fragility hinted in her face. “Disappointed?”
He narrowed his eyes. No, he hadn’t Googled her, but the fact that she’d brought it up meant she’d probably done some digging of her own. Had probably linked Bentley and Jax. Something about her expression, the nervous smile, the look in her eyes…
Bam. It hit him like a horse’s kick in the gut.
The Ferrari outside the airport.
The scene played over in his head in a fraction of a second, and he murmured, “Rubi.”
The name had struck something with him when Lexi had said it over the phone. He hadn’t thought anything of it. Figured it was someone she’d mentioned when they were together. But that wasn’t where he’d first heard the name—an unusual name that didn’t come up very often.
Her smile fell into a confused frown. “What?”
“Rubi is your friend, the one you mentioned on the phone. Rubi Russo.”
Her head tilted. “She… How do you know—?”
“She dropped you off at the airport. I saw you. In the Ferrari.” He stepped back, his entire system reeling with the realization. A Ferrari. Two gorgeous women in a Ferrari. Rubi with her glaring flirtation. They’d had wrong way, Chamberlin, go back written all over them. Something Wes had to remind Jax of when he’d been unable to tear his gaze away from Lexi.
The sensation that flooded Jax went way beyond disappointment. This was a dark, sucker punch of tar. “Fuck. Me.”
Her eyes flashed with shock first. Maybe a touch of panic. He could see her mind working, putting puzzle pieces together. She put up her hand. “Jax…wait—”
“You’re…wow, you’re really good.” He pressed one hand against the bar and gripped it hard, picked up his third beer with the other and drank.
“I don’t know what you mean by that,” she said, “but you’re right, Rubi dropped me off at the airport. And I did see you. Then you showed up at the gate, and we started talking. I wasn’t…stalking you. I was flying to New York. It was just—”
“What was your last job?” he asked before downing more beer. God, he was the biggest fucking fool.
Her lips parted, brow pulled. She eased to her feet, coming within easy reach. Her heat, her scent wrapped around him. Jax’s throat closed.
He stepped back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Last job for what?”
“Acting. What was it? An extra? A minor role? A commercial?”
Her gaze lowered to his beer. Darted toward the bar, then back to him. “I told you I wasn’t in that industry. I told you—”
She stopped suddenly, her lips still parted, words still on her tongue. Her eyes scanned his. God, they were so clear, such a beautiful blue. His gaze lowered to her mouth. And oh fuck, that mouth. What she’d done to him with that mouth…
“It doesn’t matter what I told you, does it?” She asked the question so softly it seemed as if she were asking herself. She slid her lower lip between her teeth and stepped away from the bar. Swallowed, and met his gaze again. “I’m…sorry, Jax. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have… I didn’t realize…” She pressed her lips together and curved them over her teeth. She glanced at him again, her gaze filled with regret and guilt and pain. “I’m sorry…for everything. I’m going to go.”
She started toward the door.
No. Jax wasn’t ready to let this go.
He sidestepped into her path, and she stopped just short of running into him. Her body was an inch from his. The familiarity of her scent, her heat made him weak. He lowered his head, tilted his face until his nose touched her hair.
He couldn’t ever remember wanting anything or anyone this badly in his entire life.
“I…” she said, voice weak. “Didn’t mean…for this to happen. And I don’t understand…” She struggled but couldn’t seem to find the words.
Jax let his eyes close, but he didn’t let himself pretend Lexi was anything other than what he’d come to realize.
“Here’s the thing, beautiful,” he murmured. “You’ve scammed someone who’s been scammed enough to know what it looks like.” He pressed the palm of his free hand to her waist and felt the slightest flinch. “I’m street smart enough to recognize why a hot ticket like you is interested in me. And, baby, we both know it’s not sex when you could get that anywhere, with anyone you wanted.”
She put a hand on his forearm and leaned back. Jax slid his arm around her waist and pulled her up against his body. She gasped in surprise. Her hand tightened on his arm. Jax’s mind blurred with the pleasure streaming through him.
“After that night with you,” he whispered, “I swore I wouldn’t do this again. But…” He exhaled heavily, growled with the frustration of how perfect she felt, how badly he wanted her… He nudged her hair off her neck with his face and opened his mouth on her skin. One taste was all it took—he caved.
“Tell me what you want from me,” he murmured. “And I’ll tell you if I can ultimately fulfill your wish. That way neither of us will be disappointed later. What is it? An introduction? A part in a movie? An investment?”
A sound came from her throat, and her hand swept up his arm, over his shoulder, around his neck and pulled him close. She pressed her body to his, and God damn she made Jax’s blood boil. He groaned. Squeezed his eyes against the pain of disappointment.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I never thought… I’m just…so sorry.”
She pulled away, but Jax held on. Frustration growing with his desperation. “Just tell me, Lex. I wouldn’t go out of my way for anyone else, but I want you so badly—”
&nbs
p; “Stop.” When she looked up, her eyes were smoky blue and swimming in unshed tears. “Just stop, Jax. I’m not an actress. I’m a damn dressmaker. I don’t want anything from you. Nothing but the man I was with a month ago. I’m sorry you’ve been scammed in the past. I’m sorry I somehow remind you of others who’ve done that to you. And I don’t blame you for thinking the worst. It’s completely my fault for starting our relationship the way I did. It was stupid of me to hope something good could come of something started that way.”
Tears escaped her eyes. She stretched up and kissed his cheek. “Please think before you sell yourself out to another woman like that. You deserve better.”
She pulled away from him with force and pushed the exit door open by slamming the metal bar. Then she was gone.
Jax’s heart rate picked up. His brain pinged. Go after her? Was that what she wanted? If it was, this was the most elaborate scam anyone had ever used to get a favor.
By the time he pushed the door open, she was gone.
Eighteen
Jax went back inside the club and straight to the bar.
“Hey,” he called to the bartender. “Do you know the woman who was—”
“Looked like you knew her well enough.” He gave Jax that you’re-an-asshole look. “Why are you asking me?”
He blew out a breath, pulled a hundred from his wallet, and put it on the bar. “Where is her shop?”
“Two blocks north. Lexi LaCroix Designs.”
Ah, fuck. Jax had been half expecting him to say, “What shop?”
Jax ran the two blocks, cursing himself. He stopped across the street from Lexi’s storefront, a corner spot in a series of new, quaint, stand-alone stores. Her front window was curved around the corner, huge plateglass windows displaying the most ornate wedding dress Jax could ever imagine as the centerpiece, a red gown on the right, a blue gown on the left, each a different design, each exquisite. The kind of dress his mother, sister, or date would wear to the freaking Oscars.
Haute couture. On Sunset Avenue in Los Angeles. Across the street from a Jaguar and Bentley dealership. A Bentley dealership. How ironic was that?
She hadn’t been lying or kidding or even exaggerating. She was exactly what she’d told him.
He swallowed, pressed his hands to his hips, and shook his head before he crossed the street. The shop was dark except for the lights in the window illuminating the dresses and highlighting signs declaring the store protected by surveillance cameras and a professional security system.
She’d probably gone straight home. Jax had no idea where she lived. He could call her, but she wouldn’t answer. Not that he deserved to have his call answered after what he’d just accused her of. He wandered to the edge of the building, glancing into the windows.
A sound behind the building caught his ear. He went around to the back, and found the typical small parking lot, packing boxes, trash cans…and Lexi leaning against the back door, fighting with the lock. Sobbing.
His heart broke. He was a fucking fool all right, but not in the way he’d first suspected.
God, how had this all gone so bad?
“Lexi.”
She jumped, turned, but Jax stood in the shadowed area between two streetlights. She started working frantically on the lock again, sniffling. “You know the parking lot is off-limits. This is private property. If you don’t get out of here, I’ll send your picture from the security cameras to LAPD. And you’ll get nailed with another fine. I’m not going to tell you anything more about my clients at two in the morning than I do at two in the afternoon—”
“Lexi, it’s Jax.”
She gasped, stopped struggling with the lock, and pushed the hair out of her face. The light over the back door made the tears shine on her skin. The sight made Jax ache.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, knowing it wasn’t enough. Realizing how screwed up he was.
“It’s my fault.” She sucked in a choked sob and hammered the glass door with both fists, then dropped her forehead against it. “Fucking door.”
And started crying again.
When Jax reached her, she’d melted against the door. He pulled her back, turned her, and eased her against his body, holding her gently. “Aren’t we a couple of fucked-up messes?”
She heaved a troubled breath and tilted her chin back. Her mascara had smeared, and Jax ran his thumb along the corner of her eye, wiping the shadow away.
“I—” She hiccupped. “I’ve had a r-really rough d-day.”
“I’ll say,” he murmured, feeling like the biggest dick on the planet. “I’m sorry I made it worse.” He ran his thumb over her plump lower lip, unable to tear his gaze away. Needing to feel it between his own. “Can I take you home? Make it up to you?”
“I am home.” She pulled back and looked down at her keys. “If I can just get inside.”
“You live here?” Jax asked, confused.
“My apartment’s in the loft above the shop.”
He had a million questions. “Let me get you inside.” He held his hand out. “Let’s talk a little.”
She pushed a wad of keys into his hand, her own shaking. “It’s two in the morning, Jax. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
Her concern pinched his chest. “Let me worry about that. Which key? Why do you have a thousand of these things?”
“The red one. Everything inside the store is locked in case someone gets past the system.”
He frowned as he held the door open. “This might not be the safest place to live, Lex.”
As she passed, her scent touched him. Invited him to touch her. Taste her. “Since I spend almost every hour here anyway, it only makes sense.”
Beside the door, Lexi uncovered a hidden keypad and punched in a code. She re-covered it with a snap and shot Jax a sad lopsided grin. “Now I have to kill you.”
He matched her grin, mesmerized at how her face was already so familiar to him. She locked the door, her gaze searching the exterior through the glass without turning on a light.
Jax eased up behind her, put his hands on her waist. “Who did you think I was?”
“Photographers,” she murmured. “Or a reporter. They’re always around, but they hover when I’ve got high-profile clients.”
“Who were they watching for?”
“Jessica Love, mostly. But Bailey Simmons came this week too.” She shook her head. “Bad scheduling. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“Daughters of the biggest producer and director in Tinseltown? Yeah, probably not the best ladies to have in the same location in the same week without a LeCroix security force.”
“If I could afford one, a lot of my stress and problems would disappear.”
“Maybe you need to raise your prices. Jessie’s daddy would buy her the moon if it were for sale. Bailey’s daddy is still negotiating with God for the deed to the universe.”
She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “How did you know she goes by Jessie?”
“I’ve worked for her father, Stan.”
He’d actually had dinner with Stan and his family numerous times. He’d coacted with Jessie’s future husband on several big films, and they were friends. He’d been invited to Jessie’s wedding this weekend. But that would probably be overwhelming and unnecessary information at the moment.
She searched his eyes, but then nodded and gazed into the dark again. “He’s a nice man. Stan, I mean.”
“I knew who you meant. No one would ever mistake Simmons as nice.”
She hummed in agreement. “My prices are already high. My biggest problem isn’t getting what the dresses are worth, it’s cloning myself. There aren’t enough of my bloody fingers to go around.”
She lifted her hands, palms facing them. Even in the dim light, Jax could see her torn, roughened fingertips.
“The price of success, huh?” he murmured and drew one of her hands to his lips, kissing each fingertip.
Lexi sighed, and as soon as he lowered her hand,
she turned in his arms. “I really don’t want you tired while you’re working. That’s dangerous. You need to get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”
He loved the way she tried to take care of him. “I’ve got a night shoot tomorrow. I won’t go into the set until late.” He eased the backs of his fingers over her high cheekbones. “God, you’re crazy beautiful. Why did you want to hide this?”
“I’ve had some bad experiences…” She looked away, her golden lashes sweeping down to hide her eyes.
Jax’s mind filled with the words she’d spoken shortly after she’d stepped into his hotel room. “The truth is that men are attracted to me for my…body.”
God, it all clicked. Men wanted her for her beauty, not just her body. Men used her as window dressing, the same way women used Jax—for dressing, a reputation boost, favors.
A dry huff of laughter drifted from his throat. “Baby, we are far more alike than you know.”
Pulling from his arms, she walked toward a wall and flipped on a bank of lights, filling the store with soft spot lighting.
Jax found himself standing in a near replica of his mother’s living room—every surface marble, chrome, smoked or etched glass. Overstuffed furnishings dressed in thick jacquard or leather dotted the small series of rooms. A fountain drowned out the exterior noises with a tranquil gurgle. Dresses on mannequins and hanging on racks sparkled like fireworks.
His gaze skimmed the space, taking in all the detailed woodwork, paint, displays. A few things struck him at the same time. He suddenly felt overly big and bulky and rough in the delicate, refined space, and terribly out of place. He realized what caliber of people Lexi must deal with every day, people far above what she believed of Jax’s life. And he recognized how much she’d accomplished. More than probably any other woman he’d dated.
“Let me just clear a few things up before they become problems.” Lexi strolled up beside him, arms crossed, then continued past and into a room with carpet so thick it swallowed her small feet and sparkling sandals. “Everything here is mine. Everything you see I’ve created, designed, sewn myself. I have a few seamstresses that help me out. They work out of their homes. But the work is so specialized and my clients so particular, I have to do all the finish work myself.”