Beautiful Distraction (41 page)

The guy was famous in his own right. One day an equally
famous or rich woman would adorn his side. Probably someone as tall and
beautiful as Sylvie, with sky-high legs to match an exotic and luxurious name,
which was okay since I didn’t want to be with Jett.

Or did I?

I couldn’t help the sudden pang of jealousy piercing through
my heart. What would it be like to be part of his personal life, introduced as
the girlfriend rather than the personal assistant slash secret lover, who had
to sign a contract so the world wouldn’t know about her? To travel the world
and make plans for the future?

A future with Jett.

Sleeping with a rich man was one thing, wanting to date him
was another. I rolled my eyes at the brief onset of fairy tale attitude and
pushed the nasty thoughts to the back of my mind, hating myself for letting
them cloud my perception of what our agreement was all about: no relationship,
just no-strings fun as long as it lasted. I had been okay with it. Heck, I even
stressed the importance of being able to get out if I so desired. When did it
all change?

The moment you
entrusted him with your past.

It was the look in his eyes—a tiny flicker of intimacy
intermingled with a growing sense of trust—that broke through barriers
and made me see him in a different light. I’d let him get under my skin, and
now he had started to occupy my every thought. It was the way he touched me, as
if what we had was special. It was also the way he made love to me, making me
feel wanted like no one had done before. I wanted to know everything about him,
which is what I was doing right now, investigating his life under the pretense
of finding out more about his business, but in reality I was searching
Google
and the gossip pages of various
online tabloids for glimpses into his private life and gossip on alleged dates
and girlfriends. In my thoughts
I
had
become
we
. My heart began to drum in
my ears as sudden realization dawned on me.

I barely knew him, and yet I was falling in love with him.

For the next few days Jett and I established a routine: we
spent most of the time inside the house, having sex in all possible places.
Every afternoon, we’d half-heartedly return to work, and I enjoyed the break
from him. While our physical relationship was taking me to new heights, so were
my feelings for him, and I needed a bit of space to clear my head. It was the
day before our flight back to New York, during one of those ‘breaks from sex’
that his father called. Not realizing I was talking to Robert Mayfield on the
other end of the line, I tried to divert him with the excuse that Jett wasn’t
available to take any calls until he said, “Ms. Stewart, please be so kind as
to get my son. I trust he’ll be available when he hears what I have to tell
him.”

It wasn’t like me to feel intimidated, and yet there was
something in the old man’s voice that made me put him through right away, even
if it weren’t for Jett’s prior instructions to do so. Focusing back on work, I
managed to push Jett’s father out of my system when Jett barged in, his face a
mask of irritation and anger.

“Did he say anything to you?”

I bit my lip, confused. “What?”

“My father—Robert.” Jett inched closer and sat down on
the edge of my desk, regarding me intently. If I didn’t know any better, I
could swear I was having my very own private investigation.

“Did I do anything wrong? Because if I have then I’m really
sorry and I—” Panic washed over me. I always thought of myself as a
professional, but maybe Robert Mayfield was used to a different tone. Maybe he
had perceived my cold politeness as a rude brushoff, and now he wanted to get
rid of me. I couldn’t lose another job. Not so soon after losing the last one.

Jett’s hands cupped my face and his electrifying eyes bore
into mine. “No, baby, you haven’t. I just need to know what he said, that’s
all.”

“He asked me to put him through.”

“Nothing else?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Okay.” The dark clouds of his bad mood lifted almost
instantly, and he leaned over the desk, his mouth capturing mine in a lingering
kiss.

“Jett?” I murmured against his hot lips. “Are you busy?”

He pulled back to regard me and cocked a brow in wry
amusement. “Why?”

My sex twitched at the naughty spark in his eyes. He knew
what I wanted; he just wanted me to beg for it. I walked around the desk and
stopped inches from his towering body. Standing next to me, he was so tall and
intimidating I had to toss my head back and peer all the way up to meet his
challenging gaze. I might not be able to kiss him, but there was something I
could reach just fine. Brushing my fingers down the front of his shirt, I
pulled it out of his slacks and began to undo the buttons one by one.

“Because I thought you might be needing a break.” Just in
case he didn’t catch on to my subtle hint, I rubbed my hand against the hard
bulge beneath his slacks.

He groaned and closed his eyes for a brief second. When he
opened them again, his face was a mask of desire sending my panties into
ready-to-drop mode. “Sure, but we might need to meet after working hours to
finish what you’ve started.”

I barely had time to nod before I found myself flat on my
back with Jett camped between my legs, doing incredible things to my panting
body.

***

Later that night I sat on Jett’s
bed—our bed, because I had barely used mine—as he packed his
luggage. I had finished mine earlier, and was now fascinated by how obsessively
neat he seemed to be, folding and arranging the contents of his suitcase, as
though his expensive shirts wouldn’t get all crumpled up anyway.

His brows were drawn together in a frown, and for a few
minutes I thought packing mattered a great deal to him, until he said, “We’re
leaving before sunrise. You might want to spend the night in here so at least
one of us doesn’t miss the alarm.”

There was something in his tone, a strange undercurrent that
made me look up, surprised. He was staring at me, his face an impenetrable mask
that made reading his emotions impossible.

“Okay.”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Jett said, inching
closer. His mouth pressed into a stubborn line as his eyes searched mine. In
that moment I saw a hint of vulnerability in him that I hadn’t glimpsed before.

“Okay,” I repeated, unsure where this was heading. My heart
began to thump just a little bit harder, and a sense of foreboding washed over
me. He wanted to talk and that usually didn’t bode for good news.

He sat down on the bed and clasped my hand in his, caressing
my palm with his thumb. “The night we met and you woke up with me in your
bed—” He paused until I nodded. “I know I let you believe that we slept
together, but we didn’t. I would never take advantage of a clearly intoxicated
woman who doesn’t even remember her name.”

Holy shit.

“But you said we did.”

He shook his head slowly. “I never said we did. You assumed
it, and I never corrected you.”

I peered at him lost for words. He was right, of course, but
wasn’t hiding the truth almost the same thing as lying? I had fretted over that
night, believing I had cheated on Sean, believing I had been easy enough to
sleep with a stranger, only to find out nothing happened.

“Are you mad?” Jett asked.

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Was I mad? No.
But I wished he had been frank with me, in which case I might have discovered
sooner just how great he was. Any other man would have used the situation to
his advantage, or worse yet, raped me.

Even if I knew the answer, I still had to ask. “But why did
you come home with me?”

“Because some drunken idiot hit on you, and I was worried. I
helped you and Sylvie get home safely. You didn’t want me to leave, so I
stayed. But nothing happened.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “You were naked.”

His glorious lips quirked up in a cheeky smile. “You know I
sleep naked.”

Smiling faintly, I inclined my head, realizing it was a good
thing he let me believe we had done the dirty before, otherwise I would never
have had the courage to start a sexual relationship with him.

“For all it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Jett said. “I know I should
have told you, but the opportunity never presented itself, and then I didn’t
really see the point.”

I waved my hand. “It’s fine. But never lie to me again.”

“There’s something else.”

I glanced up at his face. His brows were still drawn but his
eyes shimmered with something I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Seriously, what was this? Confession day? I eyed him warily.
“What?” His lips twitched, and I realized he was having a hard time not to
laugh.

“I’m not sure you remember, but the next day I helped you
home from yet another bar. You were drunk out of your mind, again.”

My memories flew back to the night I found out about my
promotion, and Sylvie decided she wanted to celebrate by wearing a belt as a
skirt. She had been adamant she saw Jett watching us, and I had been pretty
sure I caught a glimpse of green eyes through my alcohol-induced haze.

I should have asked what the heck he had been doing at
Vixen’s
and how he had found me in the
first place. Instead, I found myself smiling like an idiot, thinking how cute
he was for taking care of me…until I realized I most certainly hadn’t been a
pretty sight.

“Oh, gosh.” I dropped my head onto my arms, mortified. “I
don’t scrub up so well drunk.”

“You were very talkative, and definitely a lot nicer than
when you’re sober.”

Was that a hint of humor in his voice? I straightened up to
take in the amused curve of his stunning lips. He was making fun of me.

“What did I say?”

“That I had the most gorgeous eyes.”

Oh god.

I loved his eyes, but he didn’t need to know that. At least
I didn’t say anything about his lips.

“Tucked in your bed you said you wanted to feel my mouth on
your whole body.”

Earth, swallow me up
whole!

I groaned. “You probably misunderstood.”

Jett inclined his head in mock concentration, probably
recalling every single shameful word of that fateful night. “I doubt that. You
were pretty specific with the details.” The fragile skin under his twinkling
eyes creased, and his lips twitched as though he was having a hard time not to
laugh. “I could show you what exactly you wanted me to do.”

I had made a fool of myself already, so why not make the
best of it?

“Sure.” My mouth found his in a heated kiss as I let him
pull me into bed, stripping our clothes off, our luggage forgotten.

***

Our flight back to New York had a half-hour delay. Sitting
in the waiting area at Malpesa airport with Jett holding my hand felt surreal.
For some reason, I expected him to put some distance between us once we left
the privacy of his mansion. To my surprise, he didn’t seem in the least fazed
by people seeing us together. It gave me hope that once we were back in New
York, he wouldn’t end whatever we had because I liked him more than I wanted to
admit.

We stopped to buy newspapers for him and magazines for me,
and then boarded the plane for the nine hour flight that would take us back
home. In the harsh veracity of the real world, he was rich, successful, and one
of the most desired bachelors in New York—and I was, well, me. A world I
hoped wouldn’t tear us apart by pointing out just how different our lives were.

“You’re probably eager to get home,” Jett whispered in my
ear so the flight attendant serving coffee wouldn’t hear us, “but will you stay
with me one more night? I’m not quite ready to let this go.”

“I’d love to.” Smiling, I kissed him as my heat began to do
one somersault after another, probably interpreting more into his words than I
should have.

After waking up in Jett’s stunning apartment sixteen hours
later, we lingered in bed, fingers intertwined, bodies melting in a tight
embrace. Jett smelled of cologne and sex, and for the first time in my life I
found the scent intoxicating, just like the man beside me. And it dawned on me
that Jett had brought many ‘firsts’ into my life.

“What are you smiling about?” he whispered, tracing the
contours of my lips with the index finger he had so shamelessly driven into me
only an hour ago.

“Nothing.” I stretched out like a cat in front of a
fireplace, enjoying the last few hours before routine would kick in.

We were about to step out of our shell and back into the
real world, which worried me. The last two weeks had been interesting, with
very little work and very much other stuff. Back home, it was only a matter of
time until reality would crawl back in, and I realized things would most
certainly change. I wished I could hold on to
us
forever, lock us up in a protective cocoon, and let the world
pass us by so nothing and no one could ever touch or separate us.

Was that what love felt like? Wanting at all costs to
protect the frail shell of emotions coating our hearts?

It was so easy to get wrapped up in him and his body, to let
him take control. My mother had always said that no man should lead the way and
no woman should just follow but, even though I barely knew him, I wanted to let
him into my circle of trust because I could feel he’d never betray me.

“Is there anything you want to share with me?” he asked.

His question took me by surprise. Why would he ask me that?
I sat up on my elbow, fully facing him. “I don’t think so.”

“What exactly are you looking for, Brooke? Because, from
what I gathered, you don’t really do relationships.”

Another surprising statement. My heart pounded hard against my
chest. “What makes you think that?”

“The way you still don’t talk much about you shows me you
don’t trust me fully.”

I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong, and closed it.
Was it true? Did I shut him off in some way or another? I thought back to one
morning when he’d asked about my past relationships, and I avoided giving a
straight answer. Could Jett have interpreted the fact that I didn’t like
talking about my past as a sign I wasn’t interested in a relationship?

“Trust doesn’t come easily to me,” I said, unsure of what
Jett really wanted to hear from me.

His eyes turned a shade darker and his jaw set. “Why? Is it
because of what happened to Jenna? Because if that’s the reason, I can assure
you most men aren’t like that guy.”

“I know that.” I knew Danny had targeted and abused her to
pay for his habit. My therapists had told me that over and over again.

His gaze bore into my soul, searching for the answer I didn’t
want to give. How could he understand when all he knew about my past were a few
empty words that barely managed to express a fragment of the pain I had to go
through?

“Why?” Jett persisted. “Please, help me understand. I need
to know whether there’s—” He hesitated, keeping to himself what he had
been about to say.

I took a deep breath, feeling my resolve waning. I had told
him about my sister, which was my biggest secret. Why not share my feelings
with him as well?

“Why do you even want to know? Why can’t you just leave it
the way it is?” I whispered.

He shook his head, hesitating. I held my breath as I
regarded his dense lashes casting dark shadows beneath his eyes. He was so
beautiful it broke my heart, and we weren’t even done yet. What would happen
once he tired of me? Would I survive the pain? I had let down my guard and now
I was in too deep. I should have run—the way I always did, and yet I had
made no move to leave, neither physically nor emotionally. And now I was facing
an array of emotions I had never felt for anyone before. Fear, desire, hope,
and yet more fear. Emotions I couldn’t deal with. Emotions that would suffocate
me the moment our arrangement ended.

“This isn’t working, Brooke. Don’t get me wrong, the sex is
amazing. But it’s turning into something else, and I need to know where I’m
standing. I need to know whether we’ll ever be together.”

My heart skipped a beat. It tended to do that a lot ever
since he entered my life. What exactly was ‘more’? A relationship? Or a
different contract? “You want more?” I whispered, daring not to hope.

“Yes, Brooke. I do. I want to see where this is heading.”
His voice was deep and low. Sultry.

I peered into his eyes to see if he was joking, but his
expression remained serious. Half of me wanted to jump right into his arms and
never let him go, the way you see in movies. And the other half, as strange as
it sounded, wished she could wipe out each and every memory that included him.
Because I wanted him too much and I couldn’t handle it
.
Because I had
never felt this way before, and it scared the hell out of me. If I gave it a
try and it didn’t work out, my heart would shatter and my world would crumble.
If he lost interest and broke up with me, it would kill me.

“But...we signed a contract.” I almost choked on the words. There
were a hundred reasons why this wasn’t a good idea, one being that we barely
knew each other. You don’t jump headfirst into a relationship when you met the
person two weeks ago and haven’t really dated. And then there was that one
issue that made any reasoning turn into dust.

I was falling in love
with him.

“You said you had done contracts before, and that this is
the way you like it,” I continued, hoping he would reveal more about his past
and his feelings for me. Anything to justify the decision I had already made.

Jett shook his head slowly. “I never said I had done this
before.”

“But you had a contract drawn up by your lawyers.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze darkening. “It was their idea
after an ex-girlfriend tried to screw me over with some sordid sex stories that
never happened.” Hesitating, he ran his fingers through his dense hair,
reminding me that I had done the same thing just a few hours ago. “You’re
different. I know you’re not sleeping with me because of my money.”

“How do you know that?”

He placed my hand onto his chest. Beneath his skin, his heart
thumped fast and in unison with mine. “Because I feel it,” Jett said softly. “I
always have. I wanted you right from the beginning, but you pushed me away, so
I had to convince you. Otherwise you would never have given me a chance.”

I smiled at the memories of the last two weeks. So much had
happened. Never in my life did I imagine the arrogant guy I met at a bar would
interest me on more than a sexual level. Someone I might fall for.

“I want
us
but at
the same time I’m scared because—” I took a deep breath and let it out
slowly, gathering the courage to share with him my biggest fear.

“It’s okay, baby.” His fingers brushed my cheek gently,
settling right beneath my chin, where my pulse pumped hard and fast, matching
the erratic speed of my changing emotions.

My eyes met his warm gaze in which I found the courage I
needed. “My parents were so deeply in love. They adored the ground beneath the
other’s feet. When my father killed himself, my mother’s soul died with him.” I
laughed to mask the choking sensation in my throat. “She turned into someone
else, someone I didn’t recognize. I lost her the moment he died, and no matter
what I tried, she never recovered. I don’t do relationships because I don’t
want to love and lose myself.”

“What happened to your family was a tragedy, but many people
have loving relationships. You can’t rob yourself of that experience just
because you’re scared of loss before you’ve even given it a try.”

I could see his conviction in his eyes, hear it in his tone,
and feel it in his gentle touch on my body. He believed the happily-ever-after
story, and I couldn’t blame him for it, when he’d never experienced the
ugliness of having one’s family torn apart, or seeing one’s sister falling for
the wrong man only to end up dead.

“You think I haven’t seen my fair share of shit happening?”
Jett said.

Clamping my mouth shut, I remained silent. No point in
arguing with him. Of course he had. I never doubted that. It just wasn’t the
same thing.

Jett sat up and put a few inches between us, staring me
down. Angry waves wafted from him, and I knew a revelation was imminent. “You
know why I like to use my mother’s name? Because it’s one of the few things she
gave me before she left us behind. You lost your dad, whereas I never really
had a mother because she couldn’t stay sober. She blamed her addictions on my
father’s work schedule and his unwillingness to lay off the secretaries,
strippers, and every female who’d open her legs for him. In the end she finally
had the guts to divorce him. She took half of his fortune and left me and my
brother behind. I ended up doing some pretty bad shit, of which I’m not proud.”

“I’m sorry, Jett. I didn’t know,” I whispered and reached to
touch his shoulder. My fingers lingered on the Tribal tattoo I never asked about.
Even in the bright light, it looked gloomy and mysterious.
Frightening and dark.
I wanted to know everything about his past
and him as a person. And in that instant I understood that he had insisted
learning about my past and previous relationships because he probably felt the
same need to know.

“Tell me more,” I whispered. “Please.”

Jett’s jaw set, and his eyes turned into layers of ice. “She
barely made the effort to write a card or call. As a kid, I thought it was my
fault for not being good enough. It took me a while to understand my mother
wasn’t just an alcoholic, she was a drug user. She loved us, but she loved her
drugs more. She chose to be like that, which in some way is worse than tragedy.
I tried to help her. We all did, but she pushed us away. I learned to live with
it and made it my prerogative to turn into a different person. A person capable
of love and trust and intimacy.” His hands cupped my face, his gaze boring into
me, shaking my core. We had similar experienes in life. Maybe we weren’t so
different after all. If my sister didn’t die, she might have gone on the same
destructive path, like his mother. “Tragedy may hit all of us in one way or
another, but fate’s not our enemy, Brooke. We are. By locking yourself away
from the world, you choose your own mistakes and destroy any chance of ever
finding happiness. You cannot control life, but you can choose who you are and
what you make of it.”

I could feel the truth in his words, and it spoke to me on
an innermost level. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes, but I didn’t hide
them.

“I’m sorry for my outburst,” Jett said softly. “I didn’t
mean to upset you.”

He kissed my forehead. His eyes were no longer clouded, as
though he could leave the past behind by just looking at me. He wanted to be
with me. And I wanted to be with him. But was it too soon to let love happen?

“Why do you want me?” I asked, suppressing the trembling of
my voice. “I’m strange, definitely not perfect, and fucked up. Actually, a lot
of the latter.”

“Perfect is boring and overrated.” He smiled that lopsided
grin of his that made my lower abdomen twist and curl with delicious desire.
“I’m looking for sexy, fun, kind, and honest. And you tick all the right boxes,
Brooke.” Compliments weren’t my thing, but for some inexplicable reason Jett’s
words made me return the smile. “And then there’s the fact that we’re kindred
spirits. You’re fucked up and I’m fucked up too, and that makes great dinner
conversation.” He winked, as though he didn’t really mean that, but his
expression remained serious.

Maybe he was right and we both were far from perfect, even
though he seemed pretty perfect to me. What mattered was that he had all the
qualities I wanted in a man. “I like honesty, and you’re honest.”

“Then let’s always be honest with one another,” Jett
whispered. “I was disappointed so often in my life, I vowed to never trust
anyone again…until you came along. You weren’t available emotionally. You
weren’t talking relationships and building castles in the air. That’s sexy as
hell. Men don’t like the emotional and the needy.”

“I can be needy at times,” I whispered.

“I don’t mind that, Brooke. Whatever happens,
we
’ll
figure it out.” His eyes shimmered with anxious hope, as though he feared I
might push him away.

Us.

I liked the sound of that.

“Give me a chance to prove that I’m good for you,” Jett
said.

My fingertips brushed his chin and settled on his chest
where I could feel his heart drumming to a frenzied beat, almost matching mine.
This was it, the moment I decided to change my life around. Another first and,
I hoped, one of many more to come.