Conquer Your Love (25 page)

There was no sense in trying to convince Sylvie to stay. I knew a lost
cause when I saw one. Yes, we had been in Italy for a few days now. But as much
as she wanted to fool me into thinking she was missing guys and parties, I
sensed the real reason why she couldn’t wait to leave me and Jett alone was to
give us a chance to get back together.

“Promise me you’ll text me where you are,” I said.

With a sigh, Sylvie nodded and opened the door. My breath caught in my
throat when I saw Jett in front of us. He was dressed in a black leather
jacket, a sexy white tee, and even sexier jeans, holding a large box of what I
supposed contained dinner. I grabbed it out of his hands and placed it on the
side table in the foyer.

“Hey!” A smug grin lit up his eyes.

How could he make one word sound so deliciously sensual? For a brainless
moment, I imagined kissing his butter-melting lips and wrapping my legs around
his majestic body, dissolving into him, the way I did earlier today in the
hotel room.
Or yesterday in the Jacuzzi.
Or the time before that, on the boat.

 
“Hi. I’m glad you could
come.” Sylvie stepped out to greet him, throwing her arms around him, as though
they were best buddies. In the silence of the evening, she whispered loud
enough for me to hear. “Take good care of her. If you hurt her, I promise I’ll
cut off your balls and feed them to the ducks on the lake.”

Jett glanced at me with an amused grin.

“You were probably drunk because I’ve never seen ducks swimming in that
lake. But if I ever hurt her, I’ll buy them for you so you can serve my balls
on a silver tray. No worries, I’ll keep her safe.” He smiled, his gaze never
leaving mine. “I’m not going to waste a second not giving her a good time.”

Holy mother of double
meanings!

His eyes twinkled with mischief, sending my memory retrieval system into
overload.

My knees almost melted beneath me at the countless memories of us
together, our limbs intertwined.

Thank god Sylvie caught none of that.

“You better take this seriously, Mayfield.” She walked past him and
turned
around,
calling over her shoulder, “Have fun,
guys.”

“She’s quite
something,” Jett said, as we
watched Sylvie disappear around the corner.

I snorted. “Can you blame her?”

“Not really.” He laughed. “Since I sensed a serious threat, I’d better
start treating you well. As of now.” He kissed my cheek, then picked me up in
his arms and slammed the door shut with his foot, not putting me down. “Where’s
the kitchen?”

“That way.” I pointed down the corridor and squealed as he took off,
still carrying me over his shoulder. I could feel his hands burning my back,
especially my ass, and they were beginning to roam again. I didn’t mind but I
wanted food first.

We reached the kitchen and Jett put me down. And then he left again and
came back with the cardboard box. I peered over his shoulder as he unpacked its
contents. Instead of ordered restaurant dinner, it looked as if Jett had every
intention to cook for me. Again.

“Isn’t it in the least weird that you’re always the one who brings dinner
or lunch?” I asked.

“You forgot to add breakfast.” A smug smile spread across his beautiful
face as he shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it over the back of a
chair, revealing the most amazing rows of pecks and biceps I had ever
seen—all partly hidden under a highly annoying snug white tee. My mouth
turned dry at his sight. “The way I see it there’s nothing wrong with that. If
I cook dinner, you’re happy, and I get what I want,” he said, grinning.

I punched his shoulder playfully, not offended but just to use any
excuse to touch him. “If I cook next time, will you do what
I
want?”

Stopping in his tracks, he cocked his head to the side as though to
consider my proposal. “Maybe. That depends. Can you cook?”

I couldn’t and he knew it.

“Does ordering count?”

He raised an amused eyebrow. “For all of five minutes. It certainly
doesn’t earn you the same privileges like a full three-course meal.”

“You never let me be in control.”

“That’s because you love me to be in control.” He inched closer and I took
a few steps back until my back hit the wall.

“That’s not true.”

It was. I just didn’t want to admit it.

His mouth came so close I could smell the faint scent of mint and that
intoxicating fragrance of his that always made my knees buckle beneath me.

“Are you up for a bet, Brooke? Let’s say a game of Spades? If you win,
you get to do whatever you want to do to me. If I win, I can choose what I
want. I have
whatever dessert
I
want.”

Jett stretched out his hand. I shook it with a smug smile on my face. I
was the best Spades player I knew. I had never lost against anyone. The guy was
in for a big kick in his ego.

“You’re on,” I said. “Get ready to lose, sucker.”

“You think?” He propped his strong arms against the wall on both sides
of my neck, caging me in. His mouth descended to trail down my neck and
shoulder, his teeth removing the tiny shoulder strap.

 
“I like a good challenge. A
test. But I don’t want you to lose, baby,” he whispered, his hands moving
around my ass to lift me up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I let him carry
me across the kitchen and set me down on the edge of the kitchen counter. “What
if I cook and you just stir?” Jett continued huskily. “You can’t really do much
wrong and we both get to have what we want today.”

His fingers fuddled with my dress until I felt his talented hand between
my legs, testing my panties and self-control.

“Sounds like someone’s a big scared pussy.” I moaned as his hand began
to rub ever so gently, sending a first jolt of heat through my core. My legs
tightened around his waist and I pulled him closer. His thighs were wedged
between my legs now, his hand replaced by the bulge in his jeans. He moved in
slow motion—up and down—imitating the slow rhythm of our lovemaking
until the coarse material of his jeans began to chafe my clit through my
panties. My
head shot
back and another moan escaped my
lips, silently demanding more.

“I’m just concerned for you. That’s all.” His lips curled into a
stunning smile, making me yearn to do all the unspeakable things I always wanted
to do to him.

“A bet is a bet. You can’t back out of it now, just because you’re
scared.” My hands trailed down his rock hard abdomen to his jeans, ready to
unzip him and give him a good ride of pleasure.

“What are you doing?” He stopped my hands, his breathing coming hard.
“You haven’t won yet.”

I laughed. “Are you serious? Am I supposed to wait, even though you know
I’ll win? What happened to keeping me happy?”

“There’s plenty of time for that later.” He kissed me quickly and helped
me off the counter. “How was your day? What did you find out?”

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, our moment was gone, and
Jett’s expression was back to its usual casual self. The guy didn’t just have
an inflated
ego,
he had also the self control of a
statue.

Damn it!

“How do you know I found out something?” I smoothed my dress, fighting
the urge to smirk at him.

“From Sylvie.” He moistened his lips and regarded me amused, probably
inwardly laughing his head off at the disheveled state of me. “She said you had
things to discuss with me alone and that I should bring dinner. Knowing you
two, it wasn’t hard to guess you must have discovered something.”

He was right, as usual, but I couldn’t tell him Sylvie only left us
alone so I could talk to him about my feelings.

I moved past Jett, doing my best not to touch him, and handed him the
folder containing the financial reports.

“Clarkson dropped of the estate’s financial reports. Sylvie’s adamant,
there’s too much money coming in and going out at regular intervals.”

“And you want to know what that’s all about,” he said matter-of-factly,
making no move to open the envelope. I wondered if he had seen the reports yet.
“I could show them to my accountant.”

“That’d be great.”

“My pleasure.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to steer the conversation to the wine cellar.
There was a chance I was blowing it out of proportions and I didn’t want him to
think I liked melodrama.

“The basement was recently re-painted which strikes me as odd because
when I met with Alessandro a few days ago, he insisted that I make no
alterations to the house.” Peering up, I met his questioning gaze. “It’s
probably not a big deal but I’d like you to have a look.”

***

Clad in only a thin half-length dress, the air felt so cold my skin
turned into goose bumps. I suppressed a shiver and wrapped my arms around
myself to keep warm. I expected Jett to laugh off my implausible explanations.
I even expected irritation, just not—silence. Jett remained quiet for at
least ten minutes, his face an expressionless mask as he followed me down to
the basement and then listened to me recalling my conversation with Sylvie. I
watched him moving from one cell to the next, smoothing his hand over the
walls, tapping, and moving bits and parts of the heavy rack around, absorbed in
his thoughts, which he didn’t seem to want to share with me just yet. In the
background, I thought I could hear the tapping sound of raindrops falling. The
usually soothing sound made me nervous, maybe because the place gave me the
creeps and my nerves were on edge. For the first time I realized I couldn’t be
comfortable living in this big old house all by myself.

Standing next to Jett, the seconds became minutes and I felt silly
dragging him down here for no reason at all. My suspicion had been roused by
nothing but my absurd need to see hidden motives where there might be none.

“Maybe we should head back upstairs. It’s probably not a big deal
anyway,” I said. “Alessandro probably wanted to paint all the rooms but his
health deteriorated and he never got the chance.”

I came to the conclusion that had to be it. The most likely reason was
also the simplest one.

“Possibly,” Jett replied, his voice giving away no clue with regards to
what he really thought. He caught me crossing my arms over my chest and
shrugged out of his jacket, then wrapped it around me.

“Put it on.” His tone left no room for discussion.

“I’m not that cold, but thanks,” I lied yet made no move to remove his
jacket because I loved his smell. It was warm and hugged me like a cocoon.
Inhaling his scent, I stared at Jett’s bulging biceps as he strained to push
the rest of the wine rack aside. His muscles flexed beneath the tan skin, and
he let out a low groan as the rack moved an inch with a loud grating noise.

“Do you need any help?” I asked, half amused, half aroused. My tongue
flicked over my lips as I watched his strong arms, his broad shoulders, and the
thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. With his snug shirt and
mouth-watering torso, he looked so darn sexy and enticing my body began to clamor
for him.

“No. Just wait there,” Jett said.

Basically, he was sending out an open invitation for me to stare some
more.

The rack moved another inch, then a couple more. Jett’s face contorted
from exertion, as he pushed it to the middle of the tiny room, almost blocking
the door.

“The proportions of this room aren’t right,” Jett said.

“Uh-huh. It’s quite small.” I nodded, not getting what he was on about.
It was probably a men thing. Like cars and sports. You play along, pretend you
know what they’re talking about, when in reality you can’t stop thinking about
how hot they are.

“It’s an old house. They probably didn’t have a good architect back
then.” I watched him brush his hands over his thighs to dust off his jeans and
instantly wished he’d let me do it.

“That’s not what I meant, Brooke,” he said, turning to regard me. His
eyes lingered on me a bit too long, penetrating my mind and body. I instantly
felt flustered, both from the fire I saw in his eyes and the fact that I knew
he sensed just how much he turned me on. “I think the room was cut in half.”

“You mean there’s another part somewhere?” It wasn’t my brightest
statement but his words made no sense.

“Listen.” He knocked on the walls to his right and left. The noises
sounded different—one hollow, the other muted. “It was divided. The rest
is on the other side.” He pointed to his right.

I stared at him in silence for a moment, and that’s when it dawned on
me.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Jett said.

My fingers touched the grainy surface and I knocked, listening to the
hollow sound. My insides began to twist, my instincts warning me. It was as if
only inches separated me from something so terrible it made me sick.