by Jillian Neal
Intensity rolled off of her in waves as she considered every aspect. He’d watched her work long enough to know the way her brain maneuvered through information. “How very Robin Hood of you both,” she finally summed. “You are aware they could have you arrested for this.”
A half grin lifted the edge of Jack’s lips. “Are you trying to protect me, Miss Holder?”
She narrowed those eyes again. “Maybe.”
Standing to pace once again, he tried to think of some way to explain the complicated, intricate world of whiskey baron money. “They would never press charges against me because it’s all one big ship, so to speak. In order for them to have me or Sloan arrested, they would have to submit financials to the courts. All of those legacy accounts, the shell game they’re able to play with every brand label, and the tax-shielded money that far exceeds what’s legal would be made public.”
Meridian’s eyes lit with understanding. “If one of you goes down, the entire ship goes with you.”
“Precisely.”
“Damn.”
“Or damned perhaps. I’ll just take this opportunity to remind you that I tried to get you not to come.”
“Are you trying to protect me, Mr. Denton?”
“Definitely.”
“Well, stop. I want to help you. Are there other people here that you need to give a bonus to? There have to be.”
“I try to give a little something to all of the staff while I’m here, and I’m related to the other people who need my help.”
Fascination sparked in those all-telling eyes. “Finn?”
Jack gave a slow nod. “And Drew.”
“Who are they exactly?” Her tone edged back toward prosecutor.
“My brother and my half brother.”
“Why does your mother not want you to see them?”
“I told you, they exist in the space between the lines.” He didn’t relish the abhorrent pain woven so tightly in with their stories. He couldn’t stand to think of what they’d been through.
“Drew is my father’s bastard child by one of the staff members. He was born when I was around ten, but I didn’t know of his existence until I’d come back to work for the company. His mother was traded off to one of the other well-known bourbon families, and he got nothing because to my parents he doesn’t really exist. It’s extremely convenient to ignore that which you don’t want to be.”
“And Finn?”
“The Watershed Bar is a predominantly gay bar downtown where we all meet when I’m home to blow off steam and remind Finn that not everyone in this family is as bigoted as my parents and my older brother are.”
She was on those heels in a split second. “They sent him away because he’s gay?! Are you serious?”
“Finn and I are only eighteen months apart. We were thick as thieves our entire childhood. I’d gone to work representing Denton Distilleries just like I’d been bred to do my whole life. When Finn came out to me and Greer, I wasn’t surprised. Sloan and his younger sister, Lila, and I took him out to Watershed to prove we wanted him to be happy. That’s all that mattered to us. I thought nothing of it. It never occurred to me that my parents didn’t already know. Greer went with us, but he was…oddly quiet, maybe. I still don’t know what he thinks, but Finn says he doesn’t approve so I believe him.”
Fury sizzled in Meridian’s eyes. “I guess it really is extremely convenient to ignore that which you don’t want to be.”
“My parents and their ilk make a habit of it. They spent the next six months essentially erasing Finn from the family, from the accounts, from everything. He was finishing up at the University of Louisville where both of my parents sit on the board. They sent him to get his master’s degree at Concordia in Portland. When he returned, they explained that they felt he needed to work outside of the family business. They stopped speaking of him at all after that. Can you imagine being erased from your family?”
“No.” She shook her head in part to give credence to her truth, Jack assumed, but it also appeared to be in abject disbelief.
“It was all done so efficiently, no matter what I tried to do to stop it. I’d ended the sham of a relationship with Tiff a few weeks before, but Finn was the final straw for me. I had a showdown with my parents and I left. Now, we both try to confound my parents whenever we can. Finn became a marketing manager and graphic designer for Churchill Downs. My parents have no choice but to deal with him on occasion if their horses compete. We make a great deal of profit supplying whiskey for events there. It’s too large of an account for my parents to be able to erase it from existence. Finn is excellent at his job, but sticking it to my parents is too much fun to resist. Sloan and Lila and I try to help out the staff the rest of the time.”
“I guess you two are still thick as thieves.” She beamed up at him. “I’m so sorry for all of this. I had no idea.”
“Any other questions before I go see the kitchen staff? I need to get down there before my mother gets back, and I need to call Sloan to explain about Maggie.”
Meridian considered for a breath. “Just one. Why did you say that I’m dangerous? It seems to me you’re more than willing to take on danger at your own personal expense. I don’t feel like much of a threat as much as I love to think of myself that way.”
Chuckling at her wishes, he was surprised she’d asked that particular question. “Meridian”—he bought himself a little more time—“when I left here I walked away from all of the money, every connection, everything I’d ever known. I walked out of those gates. Finn picked me up and put me up in his apartment, but I had to get out of here. Everyone in Kentucky knows my parents and the power they wield. No one was stupid enough to choose me over them. I phoned an old friend from school to see if he knew of any available jobs for a lawyer. His father is Senator McCoy. His dad arranged for me to get an interview to work for Holder County. I didn’t have a job for months before that. I couldn’t continue to live off of my brother after all my parents had put him through. I took a Greyhound to Tulsa and slept in the bus station. I hitchhiked the rest of the way.”
“I’m so sorry,” she spoke in barely a breath.
“I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m telling you that I know how delicate the thread is that holds my entire life together. You are the most dangerous creature in existence for me.”
“I don’t understand what I have to do with any of that.”
Of course she didn’t. Privilege didn’t work that way. It was so integral to the core of whomever we all become that stepping away from it is akin to pulling flesh from bone. Those who had it didn’t recognize it because it’s next to impossible to live more than one life. “You come from a very long line of men and women who make good, honest choices. But your last name is the very same as the county that employs me to also make good, honest decisions. If your Uncle Barrett decided he didn’t approve of me, I would never even have a part-time job in town much less hold public office. Your father and your uncles don’t have to have titles because the power they hold and the respect they deserve is etched in every square inch of that town square. It’s all over the entire county. Every street, every school, every public building, every cattle truck that barrels through town—they all serve to remind the rest of us that you were there first, that the entire county was built up around your family, that the decisions ultimately lie not with the courthouse but with Holder Ranch. And you…are their princess.”
Incredulity formed quickly on her features. “I am not a princess.”
“Aren’t you though? No other name strikes fear in the heart of anyone in that county more than yours. You can’t honestly sit there and believe that if we tried to have some kind of relationship and I somehow fuck it up that I wouldn’t be the one they’d run out of town on a rail to save the queen. I don’t have another friend with a father who’s a senator. I took my one chance to escape this hell. I won’t get another.”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong, but why do you think you’d be the
one to fuck up our relationship?”
Jack was surrounded by decor that cost more than most people made in a year and a home and estate that were worth millions upon millions of dollars, but nothing would ever cost more than the truth. “Because I come from a very long line of men who make terrible, dishonest decisions. It is very likely the only thing I know. And yet, I am…” he considered his words carefully. His soul wasn’t for sale.
“You are what?” she repeated.
“More attracted to you than anyone I have ever encountered.”
Her response looked like it cost every bit as much as his. “That attraction goes both ways.”
“So, what do we do?”
She shrugged, and then her famous cat-and-canary grin formed on her features. “We are a long way from Holder County, and I did announce to your mother that we are engaged. No one back home will have any idea what goes on here, right?”
“Our worlds are certainly very far apart.” His entire body tightened as he leaned closer to her. He prayed she was about to say what he thought was coming.
“You never know—after a week, you might never want to see me again.”
“I highly doubt that, princess.”
“No harm in finding out.”
“I was really hoping you’d say that.” Intent on picking up where they’d left off, he took her hand and yanked her back into his arms.
“I thought we needed to go see how the kitchen staff is getting on?” Her reminder sounded like pure torture.
“In just a minute,” he negotiated with his lips against hers. He wasn’t a man who doubted his own abilities. After a few seconds, he wagered that he could make her perfectly willing to delay checking on the kitchen staff.
Yet another knock interrupted. An audible huff tensed her chest against his. “There are entirely too many people in this house.”
“Agreed.” Jack once again tried to make it appear that he did not have a raging hard-on before opening his bedroom door.
Rosalind smiled at them. “I was just checking to see if you need anything steamed before dinner this evening.”
Jack more than sympathized with the abject disappointment painted on Meridian’s face as she laid her suitcase on his bed and unzipped it. “I guess wrinkles aren’t allowed here either.” She shook out four dresses that Jack had never seen her wear. “As soon as he tells me what to wear tonight, I can steam it if you just tell me where. You don’t need to do my laundry for me.”
“I don’t mind,” Rosalind insisted. “I like looking at fancy people’s clothes.”
“But I’m not fancy,” Meridian insisted. “I bought that secondhand. I can’t afford Chanel in real life.”
“My princess prefers to identify herself as a cowgirl,” Jack explained.
“Oh.” Rosalind gave them her broad beaming grin, the one that made Jack willing to go check on the rest of the staff to see if he couldn’t lighten their load financially while he was in town. “You should take her down to the stables. Your brother just bought two new ponies.”
“I’ll do that soon,” he promised.
Meridian held up four dresses, two on each hand. “Which one?”
Since she had asked, he decided he wouldn’t mind selecting what he would get to see her in for the evening and what he planned to take off of her as soon as this fucking dinner party was over.
Chapter Sixteen
Jack handed the green silk Chanel dress off to Rosalind. Meridian hated the idea of someone waiting on her but wasn’t certain how to stop it from happening. When Rosalind whisked from the room, Meridian asked, “So, is this going to be more of an Emily Gilmore kind of dinner party or a Blair Waldorf one?”
She found herself noting the way Jack’s dark hair still looked mussed from her fingers and the way his slight beard sharpened the angular edges of his face.
“What would the difference be?” he asked.
Meridian considered. “Overtly pretentious and controlling versus back-stabby and drama-inducing.”
“C. All of the above.”
“Fun.”
“I told you…”
Meridian placed her index finger over his mouth. “Do not say that you told me not to come, or I’ll renegotiate the terms of our one-week deal.”
He brushed a kiss on the tip of her finger. “I don’t believe any terms were ever finalized. Perhaps we should go over that.”
Refusing to show any weakness, Meridian rearranged her features to those of a hardened lawyer. “State your terms, Counselor.”
When she’d first met Jack, she’d wrongly assumed that he was all ego and bravado. Through the years, she’d learned that he was neither of those things. Jack Denton was certainty. Self-assuredness practically oozed from his pores. She went back and forth between admiration and annoyance of it. But right then she allowed herself to acknowledge how incredibly sexy that certainty was when it belonged to her, even if it was only for a week.
When Jack didn’t respond, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m waiting.”
“My terms?” When his smirk morphed from certainty to ego, she offered him a complimentary eye roll. “Sorry. I’m just in shock.”
Her arms and her mind unfolded. “Why?”
“I’ve just never known you to really listen to any opinion other than your own. I was surprised you asked me to state mine, I guess.”
“That is not true. I’m just generally right, so I’ve never seen much need in hearing anyone else’s.”
He shook his head at her, but it was the adoring grin on his face that caused her heart to falter and her ovaries to start that stupid cheerleader routine again. “Well, since you did ask, my terms are fairly simple,” he informed her as he proceeded to hang the rest of the clothing from both of their suitcases in a closet the approximate size of Rhode Island. “My family’s estate, my room, my bed…my rules.”
The breath of air held stagnant in her lungs disintegrated. God, why did that sound so utterly appealing? It was preposterous. It was not something she’d agree to in this lifetime or the next. She clasped her hands to keep him from seeing her tremble. “If that’s…all you’ve brought to the table, then I’m afraid I’ll have to walk away.”
Jack knew he’d taken a gamble, but he also knew Meridian had no idea she’d played right into his hand. How could he have been so stupid? All these years, he’d considered her an enigma, but she wasn’t at all. His fear of ever trying to figure her out had blocked him.
Removing the now empty suitcases, he gestured for her to sit on the bed beside him. Always cautious and determined to win, she considered his invitation but finally relented and settled on the mattress.
“You know we’re not actually negotiating a contract or someone’s plea bargain here, right?” His eyebrows lifted with the question.
He got a single nod in response.
“So, perhaps we could actually just discuss what the hell we’ve gotten ourselves into minus all of the lawyer-speak.”
At least that earned him a grin. “Fine. What have we gotten ourselves into?”
“Better question,” he corrected, “what are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” The response was far too automatic to have ever been the truth.
“I answered all of your questions. I thought you were going to be honest with me as well.”
“I am being honest. I’m not afraid of you. I just don’t like being told what to do.”
More lies. She might not like it outside of his bed, but she would never have responded the way she did when they were kissing if she wasn’t hungry for more. “How long have you been solely responsible for your own orgasms, honey?”
Her eyes goggled as a huff escaped her. “That’s a little personal, isn’t it?”
“More personal than what we’re planning to do as soon as I can coax you back up here after this ridiculous dinner? Or hell, this house has something like seventy rooms and closets, I’m not picky.”
“No, you�
��re horny,” she goaded.
“Guilty as charged. But come on, surely you don’t think me Neanderthal enough to ever try to persuade you to do something you don’t want to do, so what harm is there in letting me take you places you’ve never gone before? Or is that what you’re afraid of?”
One breath, two. Their eyes were locked in a battle of raw wills, and he refused to look away. Finally, she glanced at the wall just behind his head. “Fine. Maybe it is.”
Jack held out his hand to her. She begrudgingly placed her knotted fist in his open hand. Gently, he eased her fingers open, one by one, and laced them with his own. “Trust me,” he whispered. “I won’t let you down.”
She erupted off of the bed. “Are there going to be like seventeen forks I’m not going to know what to do with at this dinner? Do you have whiskey with meals here? Or is that like an after-dinner or before dinner thing? Or both? It’s probably both. Why did you pick that dress? Why does your mother automatically hate me? Is it because of Tiffany?”
“Meridian,”—he kept his tone even and calming and waited on her to draw breath—“what did I just tell you?”
“To trust you.” She sounded as if he’d suggested she pole dance in the middle of the table for the evening’s entertainment.
“And?” he prompted.
“That you won’t let me down.”
“I didn’t just mean in bed, cowgirl. If anything throws you, ask me. I won’t leave your side. You seemed to enjoy driving my mother to distraction, so by all means use any fork you like.”
“She really is puckered at both ends.”
“To say the least.” Laughing at her assessment, Jack wondered how this dinner was going to go.
One thing the Denton sons had been taught from a very early age was never to let anyone see you looking concerned. Never let anyone know your feathers were ruffled. The consequences could be dire. Stocks could fall, suppliers could back out of deals, price per barrel could lower in a foreign market, all because someone in the Denton family didn’t appear absolutely certain that the sun and moon set on Denton corn mash and rye. So, though he was concerned with what might happen that evening, he would never have let on.