The car door shuts in the distance behind me, followed by the whine of the Toyota’s engine as the driver leaves the property.
I sense Jared Rush’s approach even before I feel the deep rumble of his voice at my back. “Welcome to my studio, Ms. Laurent. Ready to get started?”
He moves beside me and I glance at him, unsure how to answer. One part of me simply wants to be done with our arrangement, while another is desperate for it never to begin.
This man has already put an indelible stamp on my life. Whether I follow him inside or not, I know my life can never be the same. There will always be the time before I met Jared Rush, and the time after.
A challenge glints in Rush’s smoky brown eyes as he waits for my response.
Does he think after the way he acted with me yesterday I won’t have the nerve to see this contract through? I’d gotten the sense he’d been trying to test my limits, possibly scare me off. If anything, his behavior has only made me more resolved to prove to him that he can’t intimidate me.
How far will he go to prove otherwise?
I’m not sure I’m ready to find out.
But then I think of my mom and Katie, of how this opportunity will make life better for both of them—for all three of us. I think of Daniel, too, despite how conflicted those thoughts have become these past few days.
I meet Rush’s piercing gaze and hold it, my chin rising a notch. “Lead the way.”
A smile tugs at the sculpted curve of his lips. “All right, then. Come on.”
13
MELANIE
I follow him onto the covered porch as he unlocks the door and gestures for me to step inside ahead of him.
There is no doorman waiting to greet us, no household staff ready to tend his every need or whim. It’s just the two of us beneath the soaring, dark wood rafters of a spacious great room painted in shades of white and ecru.
The simple, inviting furniture is similarly neutral, accented by a wall of filled bookcases and art of various styles and materials. The room in its entirety is like a blank canvas that’s been arranged to make the most of the real star of the show, the tall windows looking out over a sandy, grass-covered dune and the sparkling expanse of dark blue water with its gently rolling waves that spread out as far as the eye can see.
“What do you think?”
“It’s lovely.” I glance over my shoulder and find him looking at me. “This isn’t the kind of place I imagined you working in.”
“No?” He cocks his head slightly, a quiet grunt emanating from low in his throat. “How exactly have you been imagining me, Ms. Laurent?”
It’s a loaded question, and I don’t doubt for a second that he’s aware of that fact. If I admit I’ve been thinking about him, picturing him at work, wondering about the unreadable man beneath the very public facade, I’ll only feed into his already gargantuan ego. Not that my denial would hold any water with him, either. He’s invaded my thoughts from the moment we met. He’s dominated them, the way his presence dominates all of my senses now.
I avert my gaze back to the sun-dappled waves, because looking at Jared Rush only makes me intensely aware of the heat and size of him. Not to mention how insanely good he smells. Spicy and fresh, enticingly male. God help me, I’d be aware of all that even if he were standing in another room.
“Are you going to tell me what’s in that pretty head of yours, or are you going to leave me to guess?”
His deep voice slices through my resistance the way nothing else can. If my curiosity wasn’t so piqued I might ignore the bait he’s daring me to take. His probing gaze is even harder to ignore. I can feel it boring into me, daring me to face him.
I draw in a breath as I look at him. “Do you want to know the truth?”
“Always. Especially from you.” It’s a crisp answer. A coldly serious one.
Something quick and dark flashes across his expression. A warning. Which is rich, coming from him.
I scoff quietly and it lifts one of his brows. “Is there something funny about expecting honesty from someone?”
“Not at all. I just think it’s ironic that you’d demand it when you practically pulse with private agendas and secrecy.”
“Is that so.” I can’t tell if he’s amused or annoyed with me in the long moment that passes before he speaks again. “I thought my agenda couldn’t be spelled out more clearly. You have a signed copy of it, in fact.”
Until a few days ago, Jared Rush was nothing more than a distant name to me. An enigma in a city full of mysterious and sinister figures who existed far beyond my orbit. Now, here I am, alone with him in a remote, empty house for the next several hours with the full understanding that at any moment I will be obliged to take off my clothes for him.
Again.
The thought of being naked in front of him doesn’t unnerve me as it did before. Jared Rush doesn’t scare me, even though he probably should. He’d like me to be afraid, I’m sure. All the better to peel me apart, bit by bit, on his canvas the way he’s done with everyone else who’s come before me.
But I’m not going to play that game with him.
If I’m to be examined and dissected, exposed to the very core of my being, then so will he.
I pivot away from
