Desperate Domination (Bought by the Billionaire #3) (11 page)

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’m a grown man. I stopped being bothered by things like this a decade ago.”

“I believe you,” she said with a nervous shrug. “I don’t know. I guess it’s the birth control talk, too. It makes this seem so much more real.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted?”

She lifted her gaze. “It is, but that doesn’t mean it’s not scary.” One side of her mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “You’re like fire, Jackson. Beautiful, but a little intimidating to get close to.”

“I understand.” His thumb brushed across her bottom lip. “I feel the same way about you.”

“I’m not intimidating,” she said with a breathy laugh. Her skin prickled in response to his touch, her body already wanting him again. She felt like she would never get enough of him, not even if their ten days turned into ten thousand.

“No, you’re terrifying,” he said. “Like a tropical storm, coming to sweep away everything I’ve worked to build.”

“Well, you can always rebuild,” she said, strangely flattered by the comparison. “Start fresh from the ground up.”

“Maybe I could,” he said thoughtfully.

“I called my aunt,” Hannah said, sensing that they both needed a change of subject. “She already has a team in place to frame the new cottages.”

His hand dropped from her face. “Good. I’m glad she was able to find someone. I know skilled workers can be in short supply on the islands.”

As they washed up and ate their now-cold oatmeal, they continued to chat about safer topics, but Hannah’s mind was never far from Jackson’s words.

Maybe she was his tropical storm. But maybe a tropical storm was what he needed in order to have a shot at turning his life around.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Six Days Later

Jackson

Back when Jackson had been on active duty in the Marines, there never seemed to be enough time. He was always busy with work and when he wasn’t, he was playing as hard as he could, determined to live hard and go to his grave with no regrets.

But since his time in prison, he’d lost awareness of the passage of time. Fueled by rage and obsession, months had faded into years without any change of heart or mind to mark them. Still if anyone had asked, he would have said his days were full. But by the start of his seventh day of his new beginning with Hannah, he had realized that before he’d met her, time had been standing still.

With her, hours were devoured in an instant, a day here and gone in the blink of an eye. It seemed he’d just awoken with her in his arms and already it was dusk and they were wandering along the beach in the sunset light, talking about their plans for tomorrow.

He’d heard that time flew when you were having fun, but it had been so long since he’d experienced anything even close to “fun” that it took a few days for him to recognize the light, pleasantly expectant feeling that filled him when he woke up each morning. Finally, sometime between picking oranges in the grove with Hannah Saturday afternoon and going for a morning sail around the island Monday morning, it hit him that he was having fun.

Simply sharing a day with her was enough to make it feel like he was on a permanent vacation from the evil in the world, and there was always something to look forward to. There was another moment in her company, another smile, another brush of her lips against his, and the touch of her hand reaching for him between cool sheets.

By Wednesday morning, he already knew he was going to need more than ten days. If time kept flying by at this rate, he might need a hundred.

It was a sobering thought, and one that made him keep to himself more than he had since the morning Hannah pulled him off the plane. He ate breakfast alone in his room and worked on answering email and paying bills until nearly ten o’clock. When he finally emerged, Hannah was nowhere to be found, but there was a note on the kitchen counter saying that she’d gone to the beach and that if he wanted to he should come join her.

Of course he wanted to. All he wanted was to be with her, but taking too much time off from work could wreck his business. If he was out of the loop for an extended period of time, his connections would find new places to buy and sell their weapons, and he would be out of a job. He had a good amount of money stored away, but not enough to continue living the way he had for the past several years.

But you don’t have to live that way anymore. Harley’s dead. You can let the detectives go, call off the hunt, and start thinking about what you want to do with what’s left of your life.

As Jackson stepped outside and started down the road to the beach, he began to imagine again what it might be like to let go, to let Hurricane Hannah finish destroying the man he had been and see what sort of creature would arise from the ashes. Maybe it wouldn’t be a monster or a man who felt uneasy when a day passed more perfectly than expected.

Maybe it would be someone new, someone who would know how to take proper care of the beautiful woman rocking back and forth in the hammock in front of him, so absorbed in her book she didn’t notice him until he leaned against the palm tree near her feet.

“Oh my God,” she said, flinching so hard her book tumbled to the ground as she started laughing. “You scared me. I was just getting to the good part.”

He knelt, picking up her paperback and shaking the sand off before glancing at the cover. “Another murder mystery?”

“Adam bought it for me yesterday when he was in Moorea.” She scooted back on the hammock and drew her legs into her chest. “I don’t know why I’m so addicted to them. I usually prefer something with a happy ending and a lower body count.”

He returned the novel before easing into the hammock across from her and holding the netted rope out to one side to make room for her legs. Closing the book she stretched out, curling her toes beneath his ribs. Despite the warmth of the day, he could feel her chilled skin through his tee shirt.

But then, her toes were always cold. It was one of the many things he’d learned about Hannah since he’d become incapable of thinking about anything else for more than a few minutes at a time.

“Maybe my dark side is rubbing off on you,” he said, capturing one of her feet and warming it between his hands.

She smiled. “I don’t think so. It’s the puzzle aspect that’s appealing. I have a few puzzles I’d like to solve.” Her smile faded. Her toes wiggled against his palm before she added in a softer voice, “That’s why I’ve decided to tell you my last name.”

His hands stilled, but before he could decide whether he wanted the information she was offering, she pushed on—

“It’s Mason. My father is Stewart Mason. He won a senate seat in North Carolina a few years ago so you might have heard of him.”

“The name’s familiar,” he said, his throat dry despite the coconut water he’d downed with breakfast. “Your family is wealthy.”

“Very,” Hannah said bluntly. “My mother’s family had more money than God and my father’s side made hers look two steps from the poor house.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “
Fortune 500
magazine covered their wedding. An aerial shot of the estate where I grew up made the cover.”

Jackson grunted as he dug his thumb into the arch of her foot, massaging her instep. There went his theory that Harley had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks and been forced into what she’d done. An heiress wasn’t the kind of person who was easily pushed around; she was more the kind to do the pushing.

“That’s all you’re going to say?” Hannah prodded his ribs with her free toes. “Ugh?”

“So you’ve decided I’m not crazy?” he asked, lifting his gaze to hers. “Or at least not too crazy to trust with your secret?”

“No, I don’t think you’re crazy.” Hannah cocked her head, shooting him a wry look. “You’ve been very well behaved the past week.”

“Not the entire week,” he said, lifting her foot to his mouth and biting her big toe, making her squeal.

“Stop it.” She tried to tug her leg away, but he held on tight. “I’m serious, Jackson, that’s disgusting. Feet don’t belong in your mouth.”

“I put all your other parts in my mouth,” he said, biting her little toe right where the flesh peaked in the center. “Some much more exotic than your sweet little toes.”

She flushed. “I don’t walk on the dirty ground with any of those parts.”

“Is this a hard limit?” he asked, his mouth hovering above an as-yet-unbitten toe. “If it is, you should let me know now.”

After a moment she shook her head, her breath rushing out with a sigh. “No, it’s not. What are you going to do?”

“If it’s not a hard limit? I’m going to keep biting your toes.”

“Not about that,” she said, refusing to let him off the hook. “About the other. What are you going to do now that you know Harley’s last name?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Now that I know she’s really gone…”

He brought Hannah’s foot back to rest on his chest and wrapped his hands around her toned calf, simply because it felt good to touch her. “Even if she were alive, I’m not sure I’d know what to do. I won’t lie, I would still want to hurt her. But I wouldn’t want to hurt you in the process.”

Hannah sat up and leaned in to place her hands gently over his. “If she were still alive, I’d make sure she paid for what she did to you myself.”

His lips curved. “I believe you would.”

“I’m not joking,” Hannah insisted. “I’m very fierce when it comes to the people I love.”

Jackson held her fathomless gaze and slowly forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, but it was the first time in the past few days. The first time since he’d started to feel incomplete when he wasn’t within touching distance of this woman who affected him like no other.

The first time since he’d begun to suspect that maybe his heart wasn’t twisted beyond repair.

“I…” He swallowed the words before they could find their way out into the air. It was too soon. Once those words were out, there would be no going back and he didn’t trust himself to make promises. Not yet. “I was wondering if you’d stay a little longer,” he said, hoping he’d covered the awkward moment.

Hannah’s eyebrows lifted. “But we’re not at the end of the ten days.”

“I don’t need the full ten days to know that I want more,” he said, loving the obvious pleasure that bloomed on her face. “Would you stay and spend the holidays with me? I called my associate who owns the island. It’s available through January second if you’re free to stay.”

“Yes,” she said, her megawatt grin fading only a watt or two when she added, “though I might need to fly home for Christmas Day to visit Sybil. We’ve never been apart on Christmas.”

“She could come here,” he said. “I’m sure Eva could make something appropriate for a celebration.”

“No way. I could make something and Sybil could help. The staff should have the holiday off.” Hannah hesitated, doubt creeping into her shining eyes. “But do you really mean it? You’d be okay with her coming here? Meeting you and finding out about…us?”

Us. Even a few days ago he would have told her there was no such thing as “us”, but now…

“Assuming we can come to an agreement about how to label the relationship before she arrives, then yes. I’d like to meet her. And I promise to be on my best behavior.”

Before he realized she was moving, Hannah’s mouth was on his. He returned the kiss, humming appreciatively as the salt and honey taste of her filled his mouth.

“What was that for?” he asked when they came up for air, both of them breathing faster.

“For you. For this.” She settled on top of him, setting the hammock to swaying gently. “For making me happy.”

“You make me happy, too.” He ran his palms down her spine to cup her ass. “Thank you for telling me about your family. I won’t betray your trust.”

“I know you won’t,” she said with a confidence that touched him. “You have your bad points, but you’re not a betrayer.”

“What bad points?” he asked as he silently wondered if she were right. He’d been a smuggler for years, but he’d never cheated a contact or double-crossed a connection. He played rough, but he played fair.

Maybe Hannah saw that. Maybe she saw him more clearly than he gave her credit for—his good points as well as his bad ones.

“You’re stubborn as a mule and twice as nasty when your temper’s up,” she said, finger drifting slowly down his throat. “But you’re slow to anger so the temper is bearable. And the stubborn part I’m willing to forgive since I suffer from a similar condition.”

He smiled. “Pig-headed-itis.”

“Something like that,” she said, kissing her way down the trail she’d drawn with her finger. “Your skin tastes so good.”

“Not as good as yours.” His fingers slipped beneath the band of her swimsuit bottoms, tracing the curve of her ass cheek. “Have you ever had sex in a hammock?”

She laughed, her breath warm on his throat. “No. And I don’t think we should try. We’ll tip over and kill ourselves.”

“No, we won’t,” he said, tugging her swimsuit lower on her thighs. “I won’t let you fall.”

“You can’t promise things like that,” Hannah whispered. “Some things are beyond your control. Like gravity. And my klutzy side.”