Conquer Your Love (16 page)

Kiss me.

My eyes implored him, following my heart’s command.

“Sorry, I forgot my manners. Are you hungry?” Breaking our special
moment, he let go of me and headed for the kitchen. My gaze followed him.

Damn him and his ability to
seem so unaffected!

I cleared my voice. “Actually, I’m starving. Can I help in some way?” I
walked over, unsure whether to feel happy or disappointed that we were back on
easy-going, superficial terrain.

He opened a small cupboard and retrieved two plates. “I’ve already
ordered.”

“What are we having?” Standing on my toes, I craned my neck to peek over
his shoulder and noticed the large silver tray on the counter. He switched off
a little red button on the buffet server and removed the lid. The smell of
roasted meat and vegetables hit my nostrils.

“You’re not allergic to walnuts, are you? The filling might have some in
it.” He started to pile food on the plates, adding meat, pasta with arugula,
white beans, and roasted shallots.

“Not that I know of. And even if I were, I’d take a risk just to taste a
bite of this stuff. It smells delicious.”

He sprinkled chopped chives on the plates and grinned. “It tastes better
than it looks.”

I remembered the few times he cooked for me. The food hadn’t just looked
good and tasted even
better
, it had been
unforgettable. “Even better than your cooking?” I said. “Why, I’m one lucky
girl.”

“Wait, what was that?” He eased closer.

“What?” I took a few steps back until my back pressed against something
hard.

“That look you just had.” His index finger trailed down my cheek. “Was
that sarcasm? Are you implying my cooking was bad?” His pretend frown barely
managed to hide a lazy grin, and the glint in his eyes showed me he was joking.
I sensed the direction of our conversation had changed. He was digging deeper,
searching for the answer to a question only he knew
;
playing a game.

I bit my lip as I contemplated my options. I could pretend I didn’t like
it and risk hurting him, because it was most certainly not the answer he
expected. Or I could play along. Hell, I was more than up for a little game.

And then what,
Stewart?
Open up to him so
you end up hurt—all over again?

Taking a sharp breath, I met his beautiful eyes. In front of me he
looked huge, dominating. But there was a fragility to him that made me realize
he wasn’t as intimidating as I previously thought.

“Maybe.” I tilted my head, giving him full access to my exposed neck.
His fingers trailed down my arms and rested on my hips. I swallowed hard and ignored
the shiver his touch sent through my body. He wanted me. He wanted me bad.
Right here, right now. I could see it in the way his eyes consumed me. And I
wanted him, too. Badly.

Why not just give in?

Only once.

“Well, Miss Stewart, if you didn’t like my last attempt at cooking, you
sure as hell will have to endure my next one.” His eyes turned a darker shade
of green. The air charged with sexual tension, sending yet another electric
jolt
through my lower body.

Holy cow.

He was going for it. And my resolve was slowly waning.

Reacting on instinct, I dashed past him, heading for the deck but he was
quicker. He scooped me up and carried me over his shoulder to the couch.

“Stop it.” Laughing, I tried rather feebly to free myself. “Your attack
is absolutely not welcome.”

“Attack, huh?” He put me down on the couch,
then
shifted between my legs until he was lying on top of me and my hands were
pinned above my head. His lips searched mine, barely touching me. Lingering.
Teasing.
So very close and yet too far.

“Say it.” His tone came low but I registered the command in it.

“What?”

“That you like my cooking.” His beautiful lips twitched with the tiniest
hint of a smile.

“Uh…it’s awfully—” I paused, letting him stew just a little bit
longer “—good. I like it a lot.”

“Say it again. I think I might have misheard.” His smile was smug, his
eyes shimmering with a glint of mischief.

“It’s delicious. The best I’ve ever had.” I wasn’t talking just about
cooking, and he knew it.

“Really? The best you’ve ever had?” His tongue flicked over his lips,
leaving a tempting wet trail behind.

I nodded, unable to erase the stupid grin off my face.

“Then I’ll let you off the hook…for now, Ms. Stewart.” He shifted on top
of me and tightened the grip around my wrists as his lips inched closer to
mine. A moment of anticipation passed between us—a silent promise that
didn’t need words to convey its meaning. He regarded me with so much warmth and
passion,
I didn’t need to delve deep into his heart to
know what he was feeling.

I had never been so happy in my life, and in that instant I realized
that even if I wanted to and the opportunity presented itself—I could
never hurt him.

Love is when you’d rather be
hurt than hurt the one you love.

Jett’s lips brushed mine tenderly, making my stomach flutter as my eyes
drank in the dark sea of his irises. “I hope you don’t expect good manners
because I’m starving,” he whispered in that sexy tone of his that made it sound
like he wasn’t talking about the food.

Stop hearing double meanings
in his words, Stewart!

“Food sounds great.”

I let him help me up and sat down at the table, watching him bring our
plates. He seemed slightly changed. As though a weight had been lifted off his
shoulders. Tucking into my lunch, I smiled up at him. Seeing him happy made me
happy, and that was all that mattered.

Time passed too
quickly. After our strange
but intimate moment and lunch, which turned out to be nothing short of amazing,
we returned to the deck and to light conversation. Jett was easy to talk to, which
was one of the many things I liked about him. It was hard to believe he was
only a few years older than me. The vastness of his travel experience and
knowledge of the world gave a different impression.

“More iced tea?” He refilled my glass without waiting for my answer.

“Thanks.” My glance traveled to the clear blue water, and the way it
seemed to reflect the sunlight in a million facets.

“So you’re taking it serious?” Jett asked.

“What?”

“Your alcohol celibacy.”

I nodded and took a sip of my iced tea. “I do. I’m very serious about
it.” Maybe not forever, but right now I intended to stick with my decision.
Getting drunk with Jett around was the last thing I wanted, not least because I
knew I couldn’t account for anything I did or said under the influence of
alcohol. Besides, I needed a clear head to re-valuate our situation.

He took a sip of his own iced tea, his eyes never leaving mine. I could
tell he was about to start flirting again by the way his eyes crinkled at the
corners. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His leg touched
mine,
making me all too aware of just how close we were
sitting.

“Have you considered working for me again?” His voice was playful, but
there was a serious undertone to it.

“Why would you want that?” I asked surprised.

“Because I want to have you around. We make a good team.”

He was right about the latter part, and having him around for most of
the day was tempting. But there were so many arguments against it I had no idea
where to start. For one, we were too emotionally involved to have a
professional relationship. And then there was the second best argument: past
experience.

“Last time didn’t go so well,” I remarked.

“Fair enough. But we’ve both learned from our mistakes.”

Did we?

“I don’t have any plans at the moment. I just want to take it easy, see
where things are heading.” And with things I meant us. The estate. Alessandro.
I needed time to make a decision with regards to my inheritance, where to live,
what to do with my life.

“I have a new position coming up. It pays twice as much as you were
making with me, and you would be overseeing projects as project leader, while
also taking on the same duties as my personal assistant. Consider it a
promotion with a pay raise. We could
travel together
,
get to know each other
. Of course, if you don’t want to, I
respect your decision.”

“I’ll think about it.” I avoided his intense gaze. “But thanks for the
offer.” I meant every word of it.

He shrugged in that non-committal way of his that showed it affected him
more than he let on. Truth was, Jett managed one of the most respected realty
companies in the world, and passing on his offer would be stupid—in terms
of my career. But working with him and seeing him every day would only make me
fall even harder for him.

“I got you something.” He walked over to the navigation area and
returned with a white box then handed it to me, his hands touching mine.

“What is it?”

“Just open it.”

I unwrapped the box and removed the thin paper to reveal a two-piece
bikini made from tricot fabric. I scooped up the halter-top and low rise
bottoms, and held them up into the light, marveling at the expensive cut and
the way the material seemed to shimmer in silver facets. It was one of those
luxury designer swimsuits I had always wanted but couldn’t afford.

“You said white’s your favorite color and I thought you might want to
change into it, if it gets too hot.” He ran his hand through his dark hair.

“It’s—” I almost choked on my breath. “Beautiful. You shouldn’t
have.” The only gift I had ever received from a guy was a key chain and a cup
that read ‘Got to be lazy.’ But it wasn’t the gift that took my breath away. It
was the fact that in the short time we spent together in the past, he had truly
listened. The color was perfect and he even got the size right. He had either
searched through my underwear drawer to find out, or he had lots of experience
with women’s sizes. While option one seemed kind of creepy, I certainly
preferred it to option two.

“Well, I hope you like it.”

“I do. Thank you.” I fought the urge to rise to my toes and place a soft
peck on his cheek. As I arranged the top back in its box, I remembered Sylvie’s
warning. This was the life of the rich, who never had to worry about money. I
realized that our relationship was the least of my problems. Although I was an
heir to an estate, my heritage was based on a lucky coincidence while he was
born into it. He had grown up rich, used to this lifestyle and to spending
millions on stuff he didn’t need. He could buy everything and anything he wanted.
He had women throwing themselves at his feet, ready to unbutton his pants for a
new dress or a pair of shoes. While I liked to think I was different, I knew he
might not think that way if I accepted his gift. A man as powerful and sexy as
Jett could easily replace things—and people. I didn’t want to end up as
one of them, because he had no respect for me.

“What’s wrong?” Jett’s expression reflected his concern and I realized I
had been staring at the box for a little too long. “Did I buy the wrong size?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just—” My voice faltered. “Why are you
doing all of this, Jett?” Trying to control the shaking in my voice, I stood
and walked over to the railing.

“Why am I doing what?”

I could feel him standing behind me but I didn’t turn to face him.

“If you’re no longer interested in the estate, why are you taking me out
and do things for me?” I whispered.

“Because I like nice things and I can afford to buy them.” His statement
sounded more like a question and only confirmed what I already knew about him
and his lifestyle.

I shook my head and laughed briefly. “So it’s what you do for every
woman, because you can
afford
to?”

 
The thought of him with
others almost made me throw up in my mouth. I wasn’t the self-conscious type,
but I wasn’t a fool not to realize that I had nothing to show off, nothing that
would make his rich friends go ‘wow, she’s trophy wife material’—or
whatever musicians, actors, and other famous people said about their
girlfriends and wives. Men like Jett had women at their side that had either
status or money
;
looks or fame. I had none of those
combinations and that bothered me. I had thought his interest in me was based
on his wish to obtain the estate. Now that had been clarified, what did Jett
see in me that I didn’t?

His hand settled on the small of my back, massaging gently as though to
soothe the turmoil inside me.

“No, I don’t do that for every woman. I just like you,” he said. “You
say things the way you see them. You’re easy to talk to on an intimate level,
and that’s hard to find.”