Seduction

by Calista Fox

  She discarded the apron, grabbed her jacket from the back of a chair, and trudged up the stairs to turn down the beds, yanking the band from her hair along the way and letting the thick strands tumble around her shoulders and along her back. It felt good to undo the constricting hairstyle Greta had advised her to wear.

  Lily reached the top floor and walked the ridiculously long hallway. Luckily, her feet didn’t ache, because she was used to endless hours on them. Not to mention, the rush she’d gotten helping out in the busy, hectic kitchen kept the energy pumping through her veins.

  She entered Jackson’s suite first. Jax, as Lexington called him. Or Lex, as Greta called him.

  The nicknames helped to humanize the icons.

  Well, Lex’s megawatt, playboy grin did that quite nicely, too.

  As she thought of him, what Lex had said about Jax earlier popped into her head: He’s been in a bad mood for seven years. Don’t take it personally.

  Through Lily’s research when her father had told her of this job opening, she’d learned that Lex and Jax had grown up together in a wealthy household in Paris as child prodigies. Their instructor later became their conductor when they’d turned nine and had been invited into the international orchestra they’d toured with for numerous years. The large ensemble was so popular that it was featured on PBS and HBO, and had produced an extensive catalog of chart-topping CDs, DVDs, and digital recordings.

  Yet she’d also read that Lex and Jax hadn’t collaborated with each other since they were twenty-one.

  Seven years ago.

  Interesting.

  So what had happened to make both men abruptly leave the orchestra and go their separate ways . . . and yet Jax remained so full of angst and torment after all this time?

  Has to be a woman.

  And perhaps that was why they were presumably struggling to work together.

  Intrigued, Lily’s imagination churned with all sorts of romantic ideations, particularly the potential of a love triangle. She took that thought a step further and wondered if the two men had shared a woman—one who’d ultimately had to choose between them.

  The shattered love affair she’d conceptualized while listening to Jax’s music returned to her. There’d been unmistakable passion and pain in his execution of each note.

  A hell of a lot of passion.

  A hell of a lot of pain.

  A little tremor ran through her as her curiosity mounted.

  And against her better judgment—though she simply couldn’t help herself—sinfully delicious scenarios began to play in Lily’s mind . . .

  Chapter Two

  Jax stepped out of the oversized hexagon-shaped shower set against one wall, featuring floor-to-ceiling columns and pristine glass panes between them. He reached for a towel and slung it low around his hips. Then he grabbed another and rubbed the strands of his black-as-night hair.

  The opera had helped to take the edge off his earlier volatile mood. He’d easily lost himself in the music and the drama of La Bohème . . . and a few glasses of Cristal. But the after-party had been a huge bust from the moment he and Lex had entered the upscale venue, the Bayview restaurant in San Francisco’s Financial District.

  There’d been plenty of opera fanatics there to gush over the cast, but also equal numbers of classical music fans who were through-the-roof ecstatic that Jax and Lex were working together on a new CD. All well and good, except when they’d been pressed to give the crowd a sample of their latest creations.

  Jax had had a valid excuse for not performing—no violin on hand. But there’d been a grand piano in the corner of the restaurant, overlooking the bay, and no clean break for Lex.

  He’d deflected, regardless. In his usual amiable, charismatic way. Declaring the compositions were top-secret, heightening the mystery and anticipation, and claiming their music would be revealed to this special audience only when absolutely perfected. They deserved that much from the duo, he’d added.

  And then Jax and Lex had gotten the hell out. Just twenty minutes after they’d arrived.

  Under normal circumstances, they would have struck up the band and invited the opera leads to join in. But these weren’t normal circumstances. And while he and Lex were playing exceptionally well on their own, they were having a bitch of a time finding the right groove with each other. The old groove that had once come so naturally to them.

  This disturbed them greatly. Jax knew Lex had begun to doubt they should follow through with this current project as much as Jax had.

  The problem was, they genuinely wanted to reunite musically.

  But a ghost remained wedged between them.

  Katarina.

  Instantly relegating thoughts of her and the past to the far recesses of his mind, Jax left the stately bathroom and entered the even more cavernous master suite he occupied.

  Though he drew up short when presented with an ass that sparked all sorts of dark, lascivious thoughts.

  In a heartbeat.

  Despite it not being a backside he was familiar with, Jax quickly deduced that the woman leaning over his mattress, plumping the mound of pillows, was none other than his new butler. A female butler.

  And Jesus Christ, what a fantastic way to meet her.

  He didn’t say anything for a few seconds while she finished her work. Her jacket lay along the bench at the end of the bed he’d had custom-made for his six-foot-four-inch height. The sleeves of her dress shirt were rolled up. Her hair was loose about her shoulders. Her legs were long and toned.

  And again . . . her ass.

  Perfectly round. Tight. Tempting.

  The hem of her short skirt rode high as she swiftly smoothed the bedding she’d turned down. So high, he could see the gap between her thighs and the slightest hint of her cheeks peeking out.

  Jax swallowed a groan of lust.

  He’d had his reservations about hiring a woman to fill this position. But Greta had favored her above the other candidates, and Lex trusted Greta explicitly—so Jax did as well in this case. Plus, Liliana Hart possessed excellent credentials. It wasn’t just her tenure at the Cliff House—she also came from a line of butlers. So of course she’d understand all the parameters of the job. Confidentiality and five-star, 24/7 beck-and-call service.

  She’d been a solid choice on paper.

  Yet Jax hadn’t seen her in person until now. Lex had mentioned her briefly on the way into the city. But hadn’t elaborated by any means.

  Now Jax was stuck with the sight of her ass burned on his brain.

  An ass he could imagine grabbing. Biting. Fucking.

  Damn it.

  This was definitely not a complication he needed. He carried enough weight on his shoulders at present.

  To distract himself from his errant thoughts, he cleared his throat. Also hoping to alert her to his presence without scaring the hell out of her. According to Lex, Jax had already done that.

  No such luck in not freaking her out again, though.

  She gasped. Stilled.

  He suspected her eyes bulged.

  Slowly, she straightened and turned.

  Yes, indeed. Wide tawny irises with a stunned expression flashing in them.

  And . . . son of a bitch . . .

  Jax’s pulse hit the red zone.

  She was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Including Katarina. Which was saying a hell of a lot.

  This woman wasn’t a fragile, meticulously polished, angelic vision like Katarina.

  This woman was curvy in all the right places, with wildly sexy hair and a face that belonged on magazine covers.

  Her chest rose and fell quickly, her full breasts pushing against the tight material of her shirt, looking as though she just might pop a button. He wouldn’t mind.

  She wrung her hands at her stomach. Caught the nervous gesture and immediately clasped them behind her back.

  “Mr. Sterling. I wasn’t expecting you back so early,” she said on a heavy breath, her voice low
and sultry. Erotically stirring. “Mr. Alexander mentioned you would both be out well after midnight. I’m so sorry for the intrusion.”

  Jax’s brow quirked. “You’re apologizing for doing your job?” he lightly jested, despite the sudden throbbing of his cock that was wholly distracting.

  “This is a behind-the-scenes task,” she explained, a tinge of pink staining her otherwise perfect porcelain complexion.

  Because he’d caught her bent over his bed in a compromising position? Or because he was half naked?

  She said, “You’re supposed to think of mystical elves leaving chocolates on your pillow.”

  He chuckled. Again, surprising considering how hot and bothered he was.

  Her skin remained flushed as she clearly did all she could to keep her gaze on his face, not his bare chest and the trickling of water from his shoulders, over his pecs, and down his abs. He felt the drops on his skin acutely now that this very stimulating scenario heightened his senses.

  Jax said, “I’ll try to pretend you weren’t here. Though that might prove difficult.” He was much less conscientious than her about tempering his physical response to what was unexpectedly standing before him. His gaze moved over her from head to toe.

  Her hair was a glossy mass of plump raven curls. Her fitted shirt was opened at the neck, revealing a prominent collarbone and more creamy white skin. Her shapely hips flared enticingly, femininely, then led into those gorgeous legs he envisioned naked and entangled with his amid rumpled sheets.

  Way to undress the help, asshole.

  His gaze lifted. Only to lock with liquid gold irises rimmed with fiery blood-orange. Her eyes were still wide. And damn hypnotic—even for a man such as Jackson Sterling. A man who’d made love to women with the greenest of green and the bluest of blue eyes.

  Liliana Hart’s were unique. Seductive. Riveting . . .

  Everything about the woman was riveting, disheveled though she was. It made her even more deeply sensual. Sexy as hell.

  Apparently noting he’d made a very thorough visual inspection of her, she abruptly realized she was in complete disarray and said, “I’m a wreck. I apologize for that as well. I was in the kitchen helping to prep for the party, since you and Mr. Alexander weren’t in need of me. I should have dressed before I came upstairs.” She released the hands behind her back and reached for a fat curl. “Shit.” The whispered word seemed to have escaped her involuntarily. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry.”

  Jax was both amused and turned on at the same time. An intriguing combination. An electrifying one.

  She boldly crossed to where he stood and extended her hand to him. “Liliana Hart. Please, call me Lily. And I assure you, Mr. Sterling, I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m just making horrific first impressions today.”

  Jax’s gaze narrowed on her. “That’s your opinion. You’ve put in a long day and even assisted downstairs when it’s not your responsibility. When Lex and I aren’t here and your duties are complete, your time is your own, Lily.”

  Lily.

  Her name had rolled just a bit too sensuously off his tongue. Turning her stunned expression into an innately heated one that made his cock twitch more enthusiastically.

  Her voice was a mere wisp of air as she politely said, “Thank you.”

  Her hand dropped because he hadn’t accepted it. Jax couldn’t explain why. Except that she had silky-looking skin and long, manicured fingers, which would no doubt feel sensational coiling his thick shaft. Pumping slowly.

  He instinctively knew that, with this woman, the simple touch of a handshake would incite the need for much more.

  She said, “I appreciate your stance. It’s just that . . . it’s a big house. And I’m not good with too much free time. I like to stay busy.”

  “Suit yourself. But know it’s not necessary.”

  “And please believe me when I say you won’t find me like this in the future.” She swept a hand in front of her, indicating her unkempt appearance. Again, which he found so damn sexy.

  “You’re fine right now. Don’t worry about it. Though . . .” He leaned in and whisked his thumb over her cheek. “Little flour or something.”

  Damn it. He couldn’t keep himself from touching her. And her skin was as silky as he’d suspected. A slow burn spread through his groin, up to his gut.

  “Phyllo dough for the pastries,” she said on a hitched breath.

  “Right. Well.” He continued to gaze at her. He should have taken a step away, so he wasn’t seared by the nearness of her. But it wasn’t in his nature to back down.

  She, however, seemed to know when not to play with fire.

  “Please excuse me. I have Mr. Alexander’s suite to tend to. Then I’ll serve you both in the music room, if you wish.”

  “We could use a cocktail,” he told her. Jax was in need of taking the edge off again. For completely different reasons this time, thanks to Lily Hart.

  As she gathered her coat, he added, “Don’t bother getting all buttoned up this late in the evening. You’re okay as is, given the circumstances.”

  “Then I’ll see you shortly.” Those tawny eyes of hers slipped. She stole a full-on peek at him. Right down to where the towel covered his cock.

  The cords of her long, graceful neck pulled taut as she inhaled a sliver of air. Now it was desire that flared in her eyes. Completely unmistakable—and scorching hot.

  Jax gloated inwardly.

  The lady-butler trying so industriously to be the paragon of professionalism was most definitely not immune to him.

  And likely none too happy about it. She tore her gaze away, whirled around, and marched off.

  Ah . . . an unanticipated turn of events.

  An exciting one at that.

  Though, quite possibly, also a dangerous one.

  Jax’s jaw set.

  Were he still in Europe and Lex in New York, he wouldn’t hesitate to stake a claim on Lily Hart for a night or two. But something about her striking face and those hypnotic eyes gave him the niggling suspicion that he’d want to introduce her to Lex. That hadn’t happened since their touring days. And could prove—had proved long ago—devastating.

  To them both.

  The women Jax had made love to on his own, after leaving the orchestra, had not turned his blood to magma the way Lily immediately did. Or caused an inferno within him at the sight of a delectable ass. Thank God for the overlapping of the thick towel that concealed the start of what promised to be a mammoth hard-on if he gave in to the lust suddenly blazing through his veins.

  With a shake of his head, to try to rid himself of the image of Lily bent over his bed—and in his mind, she wasn’t wearing the skirt or the stockings—he tossed off the towel and dressed in a pair of loose black drawstring pants and a tank top that conformed to his rigid muscles.

  He was tense again.

  Because having Lily in the house with both himself and Lex could be a three-way collision of epic proportions—in a spectacular way . . . or a catastrophic one.

  * * *

  Lex was listening to the playback of last week’s session with Jax. The music room was elegantly appointed with plush white sofas and chairs, glass coffee and end tables, and ornate area rugs. His gleaming alabaster grand piano was centered in the middle, under an enormous chandelier on a low setting that hung from the gilded domed ceiling. The tall glass-and-wood-trimmed windows and doors were covered with white sheers that blew gently in the breeze coming off the bay.

  Jax’s mansion was situated on a hill with the cove below. The crashing of waves echoed in the quiet, semicircular community of Bayfront, drifting up to the second floor. The small coastal town was located south of San Francisco and bordered the wine country of River Cross, with the Bliss Mountain Ski Resort farther in the backdrop.

  A playground for the ultra-rich, Bayfront was populated with millionaires and billionaires. The development had been built over the past couple of decades. Dubbed the Hamptons of the West Coast, it was parti
cularly desirable given how close it was to the city, as well as to the sophisticatedly rustic inland getaway of River Cross, where Lex and Jax had held their first reunion in seven years.

  They’d been at the local favorite restaurant and wine bar, Bristol’s—owned by famous restaurateur Christian Davila and celebrity chef Rory St. James, two of the many exclusive guests attending the New Year’s Eve bash Lex and Jax were hosting—when Jax had proposed they team up for the CD. Lex had been completely taken aback. Hadn’t even seen the suggestion coming.

  He’d thought Jax had just wanted a casual get-together after all these years, now that Jax was back in the States and had purchased the mansion. Lex had been anticipating a friendly catch-up. Not a new business venture that had catapulted them both into the past and ripped the Band-Aid off all the old wounds.

  But the more they’d talked, the more Lex had come to realize that they possessed the exact same vision for the new project. A brilliant idea that rose from the ashes of disaster. And Lex hadn’t been able to resist working with his best friend again.

  Trouble was, those old wounds were standing in their way. While the music they were creating was incredibly good, both men wanted it to be exceptional.

  No . . .

  Extraordinary.

  Not just for their own personal satisfaction or what was expected of them from the industry and because their fans deserved their absolute best effort.

  Because it was a tribute to Katarina.

  Which made every note critical.

  The room was equipped with hidden digital recording systems and Lex had software on his Surface Pro for composing each tune, but his true preference was handwriting the sheet music. It felt more authentic and personal to him. More intimate. And that was what this CD was all about.

  So that meant a lot of scribbling and erasing and grunting in frustration as he tried to fix what ailed the arrangement he was currently working on.

  Jax storming into the room in agitated strides and heading straight for the wet bar didn’t help matters.