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BOOK 7
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Being Yours BOOK 7
‘Rachel?’ he asked from directly behind her.‘Yes, Mr Dermont?’‘Jackson.’She ignored his correction.‘Do I make you nervous?’She threw what she hoped was an exasperated look over her shoulder. Instead of lying again, shepoured her attention on to the sparkling glass, rubbing so hard that the entire case vibrated. ‘Did you come here to buy something, or simply to distract me from my work?’‘Hmmm.’Feeling his eyes roam down her back, she polished harder until her shoulder muscles began to bunch.‘Now that you mention it, my sister’s birthday is in a couple of weeks.’Thankful for the shift in subject-matter, Rachel faced him and cleared her throat. ‘What is she like?’He tucked a loose strand of Rachel’s hair behind her ear. The act had been so casually accomplished, as if he’d touched her hair a hundred times before, that she couldn’t move. ‘Like a sister.’She swallowed, hard. ‘Is she conservative or flashy?’He lifted a brow in thought. ‘Somewhere in the middle.’‘Does she like
Being Yours BOOK 7
Sunlight washed the screened-in porch with hazy, luminous light. Dust motes clung to the air, drifting with the rose-scented breeze that brushed Rachel’s face like a soothing whisper. Stretched out on her rattan sofa, heat prickled through her jeans, warming her skin and numbing her body. Her eyelids drooped closed as she slipped closer to sleep.The couch’s green and yellow stripes had long since faded, but the cushions were still plump, cradling her in a cocoon of softness. She turned her face into the sun and breathed in the scents of budding trees, fresh-cut grass and the crisp smell of morning burning into afternoon.She shouldn’t be wasting time lounging when she had so much to do. If she started dressing now, she’d just make it in time for Senator Hastings’ fundraiser. But her life allowed so few quiet moments, she hated to give this one up.A shift in the cushions and the telltale sound of purring caused her to open her eyes. Miss Bastet pawed the couch. With her round, golden
Being Yours BOOK 7
'You have the look of a hungry man.’Tensing at the sound of the familiar voice, Jack-son tilted his head around. ‘Sandra, what a . . . surprise.’‘Is it, darling?’ she purred. Though the barbecue was supposed to be a casual affair, Sandra managed to smell like money in her designer jeans, ostrich boots and plum-colored silk shirt. But then, she’d always been the type to wear a Chanel suit to the grocery store, though he doubted she did anything so menial these days.‘I’d say the surprise is seeing you here.’ She rubbed the backs of her pearl-tipped nails against her collarbone. ‘I’ve heard about the trouble you’ve been having. Evidently no one’s safe any more, regardless of how much we spend on gadgets to keep the undesirables out. Just this morning, Edmond and I were discussing changing our security company. Perhaps you could work for us.’Jackson refused to let her bait him into a retort, because he honestly didn’t care what the woman said. It amazed him that he’d thought himself o
Being Yours BOOK 7
Not only had curiosity killed the cat, Rachel thought as she turned her Acura into her neighborhood, but this cat had purposefully stepped into a wild bull’s pasture without a tree to hide behind. What was she thinking, inviting Jackson to her house? She glanced at her rearview mirror and saw his silver Jaguar make a sleek turn right behind her.She flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. He thought there was something between them. Attraction, yes, she would have had to be dull-witted not to have sensed that, but she didn’t delude herself into thinking there was something more. There were too many unanswered questions regarding Jackson Der-mont. Too many shadows and hidden corners that she couldn’t see around. Which was exactly why she’d agreed to spend more time with him. The chance to discover his secrets was too tempting to ignore.Maybe her mother was right: her curiosity would be the ruin of her one day.But something was brewing beneath his shielded surface. Something that ca
Being Yours BOOK 7
Of everything Sandra had taken from him, he hated her most for stealing his ability to trust. He’d thought himself incapable of caring about anyone ever again. He certainly never thought he’d feel the slightest glimmer of . . . He stopped himself, not wanting to name the deep churning inside his chest.Rachel had been right when she’d said kissing her wouldn’t be simple. It was damn complicated. For the first time since Sandra, he wanted more than a few hours of gratuitous sex. He wanted the impossible - he wanted to know Rachel every way possible, which meant allowing her to become a part of his life.Expelling a breath, he pressed his fingers to his closed eyelids. He’d wanted to throttle Rachel’s mother for interrupting them. On hindsight, he knew her arrival had been a blessing.Rachel might not have called a halt to their kiss, and he’d been so driven he wouldn’t have stopped until he’d made love to her. And that was a dilemma he didn’t need.Pushing thoughts of Rachel aside, he
Being Yours BOOK 7
The bell above the door jingled, announcing Jackson’s departure, the sound light and gay, like the chirping of a sparrow, when it should have vibrated with the finality of a death-toll - slow and brooding. The pressure in Rachel’s chest increased, as if stone after stone were being placed there. Her lungs burned, and her skin turned hot and prickly.She was innocent, dammit! Why wouldn’t he believe her?She drew in a searing breath, her body filling, expanding, trembling as it drew in much needed air. She could still imagine seeing Jackson standing at the door, his lean body braced against anything she had to say, his eyes averted, unwilling even to look at her.I’m innocent , she’d wanted to scream again and again until he believed her. But to do so would cast his suspicions elsewhere, and that she couldn’t risk. Not until she knew the truth herself. She hadn’t been the only one at each of the parties. Penny had been there as well, mingling with the guests, walking through the houses
Being Yours BOOK 7
‘I’ve screwed things up, Derrick.’ Jackson slipped his hands into the pockets of his Alfani slacks and faced his sales manager.‘God, Jackson, and here I thought you walked on water.’ Uncrossing his feet and taking them off the desktop, Derrick sat forward with his elbows braced on his thighs. ‘So spill. What’s going on with the investigation?’Rubbing his palm over the back of his neck, Jackson circled the confines of his office. ‘Remember that necklace I bought from Rachel Gold?’‘Yeah, brilliant move.’ Derrick shook his head without disturbing a single strand of precision-combed brown hair. ‘But don’t sweat it. I think I’ve found a buyer.’‘Don’t bother.’ Jackson selected a photo from the creased manila folder lying on his cluttered desk. Leaving Rachel that morning, her pleading gaze stabbing him in the back, he’d crushed the file in his hand to keep from going to her. The temptation to hold her, then strangle her had been overwhelming. Handing the picture to his manager, he said,
Being Yours BOOK 7
Rachel took a sip of red wine, letting the dark, velvety taste pool on her tongue before it eased down her throat. She rarely drank more than one glass of wine, not liking the way it dulled her senses, but tonight she thought she might have a second. She could use a bit of numbing to take off the edge.Since leaving Jackson’s office, her nerves had become twisted ropes of energy, amplifying every thought and emotion she possessed as well as those she picked up from others. The trip to the grocery store had become unbearable. The frustration of women trying to balance work and family, a stressed check-out clerk, a manager who was furious over receiving a shipment of milk that had already expired had all somehow woven into her own frantic state. She’d felt them all in a way she’d never experienced before. It had been overwhelming, even painful, leaving her nerves raw and exposed.Taking a fortifying drink of wine, she vowed to regain control of the safe environment she’d created for her
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