Jonquils for Jax: The Rousseaus #1 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 12) (17 page)

Her body went rigid in Gard’s arms as she looked in the direction of the voice, which came from the edge of the pool house.

Click. Flash. Click click click. Flash
.

She blinked her eyes, blinded by the camera’s flash.

“Holy hotness! Jaxy Rousseau making out in the family pool!” said the intruder, his voice slimy and excited.

“Gard!” she gasped, whipping her eyes to his. “Help!”

He released her immediately, swimming the length of the pool in a moment, then leaping out and racing toward the sound of the photographer’s voice.

“Who are you? Who the
hell
are you?” he roared, but in his haste, he tripped over a pool chair and landed flat on his face on the pool deck.

“Ooo-hooo!” exclaimed the photographer with delight. “Picked a real winner with this one, Jaxy!”

“Get out!” she screamed, scrambling to the side of the pool. “I’m calling the police. I’ll have you arrested for trespassing!”

“No need to tell me twice,” he said. “You take care now!”

She pulled her body from the pool, racing to Gard, who lay motionless on the slate deck, blood streaming from his head.

“Gard? Gard?” She knelt beside him, sobbing, feeling more lost and more alone than ever.

Her fortress had been breached.

Her heart sank with despair.

Pounding.

And fuzzy.

Those were the first two things that occurred to him when he slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light before trying to focus. He blinked several times, trying to sit up, then groaned as the pounding in his head increased. Easier to let his head fall back onto the pillow.

“Gard? Gard, can you hear me?”

Jax.

He gasped, his fingers twisting into the fabric at his sides.

She’s in trouble. She needs me.

“Can you get the doctor? I think he’s waking up,” she said. Then softly, close to his ear, “Gard?
Tu m’entends? Mon coeur, c’est moi. Jax. La duchesse
.”

He knew exactly who she was. And whatever else she said didn’t matter. She’d just called him her “heart” in her perfect, pristine Parisian French, and it was by far the sweetest thing he’d ever heard in all his life.

He opened his eyes again, focusing on her face, which was hovering close to his.

“
Mon coeur
?” he asked.

“Gard,” she whispered.

“
Mon coeur
?” he asked again, searching her eyes, needing to be sure she’d said it, needing to know if she meant it.

“
Oui
.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she nodded her head. “
Mon coeur
.”

“Don’t cry, Duchess,” he rasped, closing his eyes again, his hand sliding over the bed sheets in her general direction, stopping when she clasped it, threading her fingers between his and raising his hand to her lips. She pressed her lips lovingly to his skin, then rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand.

“I was scared.”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to remember what had happened, what had scared her.

“I was scared for you.”

He cracked his eyes open and sighed. “I’m sorry I scared you.” He paused. “Why did I—I can’t remember…?”

And then, suddenly, he did.

He winced, groaning as the memories came rushing back. He’d been running in the general direction of the photographer’s voice only to bang his knees on something hard and—and,
oh, merde!
—face plant on her pool deck. Christ, he’d been useless to her. Less than useless. An embarrassment to her and himself.

“Fuuuuck,” he muttered.

“Watch your mouth,” she said gently, squeezing his fingers and giving him a little smile. “There’s a lady here.”

“Jax,” he groaned, wishing he could crawl into a hole and hide. Not only had he let her down; he’d left her totally unprotected while some piece-of-shit paparazzo trash was hunting her. He winced, closing his eyes. Glory Lord, he could die of shame.

“No!” she said, her tone fierce. Her fingers abandoned his to reach up and clutch his chin. She forced him to face her. “Don’t you
dare
do that!”

“Do what,
cher
?” he asked, opening his eyes but keeping them averted as best he could. He couldn’t bear to look at her after failing her so completely.

“Look away from me. Be embarrassed. You were trying to protect me.”

Her words only served to make him feel more ashamed. It was the bottom of the bell jar, the lowest low. He’d acted on instincts from an old life of serving and protecting, only to discover—to finally, finally be forced to accept—that that life was long gone. And he was joke for trying to hold onto it.

“Did quite a job of it too,” he said softly, still unwilling to look at her.

“Gard,” she said, her voice breaking. She took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, it was jagged and soft. “You don’t understand.”

He glanced at her. “Understand what?”

“Seeing you…lying there…with blood coming out of your—” She touched her own forehead lightly and took another shaking breath. “It put everything in perspective. I’ve been…feeling sorry for myself. Hiding. More scared than angry. But in that moment? With you lying there bleeding? I thought,
The rest be damned!
I got angry. I finally. Got.
Furious
.”

He stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

“
No one
has a right to hunt me like that, to trespass on private property, to intimidate me, to make me feel unsafe, to invade my personal space. No one. And I
won’t
stand for it.” Her voice grew stronger as she spoke, her posture straighter and stronger. “I’ve already spoken to a lawyer. I’m pressing charges. Le Chateau is private property, so if those pictures show up anywhere, I’ll sue whoever took them and whoever buys and prints them.”

He nodded, wincing from a fresh stab of pain. “Good for you, Jax.”

She took a deep breath and sighed, cocking her head to the side.

“You got eleven stitches,” she said, her voice wavering again as she reached for his hand. “Oh, Gard. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Duchess,” he said, looking at her red-rimmed eyes and feeling them like a punch to the gut.

“If something had happened to you…”

“I’ll be okay.”

“I already told the hospital that you’d be coming home with me. I’ll take care of you until you feel—”

“No,
cher
,” he said gently, squeezing her hand before untangling their fingers. “No.”

“Gard…” she started, an edge in her wobbly voice.

It was bad enough that he’d wiped out so spectacularly, failing to protect her. But to be downgraded from potential lover to feeble patient? No. He couldn’t bear it. Better to break things off now.

“I think maybe our journey together ends here, Duchess.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head back and forth as she clasped her hands together beside him on the white sheets. “No, it doesn’t.”

“You told me once that you came back to Philly because you wanted someone to anchor you, to protect you, to make you feel safe.”

“
You
do those things for me,” she said. “I’ve felt more anchored, more protected, and more safe since the moment I ran into you that nigh—”

“How can you say that?” he demanded angrily, raising his voice, feeling his face twist into a sneer. “I’m a blind man! How can I be an anchor for you? How can I protect you or keep you safe, woman? You saw what happened when I tried!”

“We’re not
cave people
!” she yelled back. “I don’t need a Neanderthal goon to follow me around with a club beating photographers away! What I need is—”

“Some sightless joke of a—”

He supposed she did what she did next because she couldn’t bear to hit his injured face, so she went for the next most vulnerable spot…per his instruction. She slapped him as hard as she could in the nuts.

“Ahhhhk! Arrrrr. Gah!” he groaned, reaching down under the sheet to cover his penis before looking up at her in horror. “
Merde! Pourquoi?
”

Shit! Why?

Her eyes were narrowed to slits of green, and her voice was low and lethal. “Don’t you
ever
call yourself a joke again. Not to me. Not ever. Do you understand?”

If he’d thought her fierce before, when she’d grabbed his chin, she was downright scary now. Thank God the blankets over his body had absorbed some the shock of her smack, but his balls still ached.

He frowned at her, growling between clenched teeth, “
Oui
.”

“I’m sorry I hit you,” she said softly, glancing at his groin with guilty eyes.

He grumbled, “Kinda gettin’ used to it, Duchess.”

“Can I please finish what I was saying?”

He nodded.

“I don’t need you to be my personal policeman. I can protect myself. You’re teaching me how, remember? Don’t you see? Before I ran into you that night, I had no idea what I was doing with my life, what came next. No plan. Just a frightened girl hiding away in her childhood home. Now? I’ve found a script I love. I’m trying to figure out how to produce it. I have a meeting later this week, did I tell you that?”

He shook his head, his heart swelling with love for her as she told him the ways that his presence in her life had already improved it for the better.

“As for feeling safe?” She took his hand and pressed it to her lips again. “You
do
make me feel safe. You take the loneliness away. You make me feel beautiful. And grounded. And maybe that’s because you’re a gardener…” She sniffled, laughing weakly at her own bad joke. “…but I think it’s because I’m falling in love with you.” She gulped, dropping his eyes and clasping his hand in hers.

After a long second—the exact amount of time it took for him to process her beautiful words, to fully understand and accept their meaning and let them settle into his heart—he took a deep breath and said, “What’s the first rule?”

She raised her chin and her eyes found his. “Don’t ever look away.”

“That’s right,” he said, searching her face and knowing that if he didn’t turn her away right now, right here, he was choosing her, choosing to give them a chance. He nodded, unable to keep his lips from wobbling into a small, grateful smile. “Now kiss me,
cher
.”

Tears brightened her eyes as she stared at him for just a moment before giggling softly with a look of surprise and relief and then leaned forward as he had asked, pressing her lips to his.

***

Two days later, after a concussion had been ruled out and Gard had seen a surgical ophthalmologist to ensure his eyes hadn’t suffered further as a result of his fall, he was permitted to leave the hospital with Jax, who pulled up in her mother’s Mercedes and grinned at him as a nurse wheeled him out to the curb.

Standing up with a growl of annoyance as soon as the chair stopped moving, he practically leapt into the car. “Please get me out of here.”

“With pleasure!” she said, stepping on the gas with glee. She turned to him once they pulled out of the parking lot. “How are you feeling?”

“My head still hurts a little.”

“The doctor said your eyes are okay.”

“Thank God.” He turned to her. “Not like I can afford to lose what I have.”

“Well, luckily you didn’t.” She grinned at him. “Let’s get you back to my place and I’ll—”

“Jax,” he said, his voice serious, “I don’t need to stay with you. I don’t need a nurse. I’m fine.”

She didn’t turn to look at him, but her face fell, all the joy that she’d felt anticipating his more-constant presence in her life fading like a dream in the morning. Honestly, the hospital’s recommendation that he stay with “a friend” for a week had just been a convenient excuse for her to ask him. She wanted him in her space. She wanted him around all the time. And the idea that he would simply go back to the Englishes’ gardener’s cottage, which felt ridiculously far away, fell like lead on her heart.

“But I was—I mean, I wanted to take care of you,” she said softly, feeling bereft at the idea that she was going to be deprived of the opportunity.

“Well, fair enough,” he answered evenly, “but only if you let me take care of you too.”

She took a deep breath, stopping at a stoplight, her joy returning as quickly as it had fled. He wasn’t saying no. She held her smile back, turning to face him.

He gave her a no-nonsense look. “You have to let me upgrade your security system, okay? I have some friends who can come and take a look. I want to be sure you’re—”

“Done!” she said, leaning over the bolster to kiss him quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”

“That’s not all.” He smiled back at her, shaking his head. “I still have to help out Felix too.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding at him with what she hoped were wide, compliant eyes.

“And I can help you with that script if you need me to,” he offered.

“That would be great.”

His eyes darkened. Just a touch. But enough for her to notice.

“And I still owe you a lesson.”

“Oh. Right. The…groin,” she said, her cheeks flushing with heat as she recalled the last time they’d started that lesson.

“And Duchess?” he said, his voice low and seductive as he leaned over the bolster and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder. “One more thing.”

“Hmm?” she moaned, closing her eyes for just a moment until the car behind her beeped. Her eyes flew open and she pressed on the gas.

“Just to be clear…if I’m stayin’ at your place, I’m not stayin’ in some guest room. If I’m sleepin’ at your place, I’m sleepin’ next to you.”

Her breath caught, and suddenly it didn’t feel like there was enough room in the car for both of them. “I…”

She knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that he wasn’t talking about sex. Jax knew that he cared for her, and she knew that he would respect her wishes and timeline when it came to intimacy. But her own words returned to her like a boomerang, whispering sweetly in her head,
I’m falling in love with you
, and without a hint of uncertainty, she knew that she didn’t need to wait anymore and that everything he wanted was exactly what she wanted too.