Читать книгу Engaged To Her Ravensdale Enemy - Melanie Milburne - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

JAKE WAS SO mad he could see red spots in front of his eyes. Or maybe he was having a brain aneurysm from anger build-up. Seven years of it. He paced the floor of his room, raking his hair, grinding his teeth, swearing like a Brooklyn rapper at what Jasmine had done to him. Engaged! What a freaking farce. No one would believe it. Not him. Not the playboy prince of the pick-ups.

His stomach turned at the thought. Committed. Tied down. Trapped. He was the last person who would ever tie himself down to one woman and certainly not someone like Jasmine Connolly. She was a manipulative little witch. She was using him. Using him to lure back her third fiancé. Who on earth got engaged three times? Someone who was obsessed with getting married, that was who. Jasmine didn’t seem to care who she got engaged to as long as they had money and status.

But through the red mist of anger he could see her solution had some merit. Emma Madden had taken the news of their ‘engagement’ rather well. He had been poleaxed to see that kid standing on the doorstep. He could count on half a hand how many times he’d been caught off guard but seeing that kid there was right up there. If anyone had seen her—anyone being the press, that was—he would have been toast. He didn’t want to be cruel to the girl but how else could he get rid of her? Jasmine’s solution seemed to have worked. So far. But how long would he have to stay ‘engaged’?

Then there was his family to deal with. He could probably pull off the lie with his parents and Miranda but not his twin. Julius knew him too well. Julius knew how much he hated the thought of being confined in a relationship. Jake was more like his father in that way. His father wasn’t good at marriage. Richard and Elisabetta fought as passionately as they made up. It was a war zone one minute and a love fest the next. As a child Jake had found it deeply unsettling—not that he’d ever showed it. His role in the family was the court jester. It was his way of coping with the turbulent emotions that flew around like missiles. He’d never known what he was coming home to.

Then eventually it had happened. The divorce had been bitter and public and the intrusion of the press terrifying to a child of eight. He and Julius had been packed off to boarding school but, while Julius had relished the routine, structure and discipline, Jake had not. Julius had excelled academically while Jake had scraped through, not because he wasn’t intellectually capable but because in an immature and mostly subconscious way he hadn’t wanted his parents to think their divorce had had a positive effect on him.

But he had more than made up for it in his business analysis company. He was successful and wealthy and had the sort of life most people envied. The fly-in, fly-out nature of his work suited his personality. He didn’t hang around long. He just got in there, sorted out the problems and left. Which was how he liked to conduct his relationships.

Being tied to Jasmine, even if it was only a game of charades, was nothing less than torture. He had spent the last seven years avoiding her. Distancing himself from all physical contact. He had even failed to show up for some family functions in an effort to avoid the tension of being in the same room as her. He’d had plenty of lectures from Julius and Miranda about fixing things with Jasmine but why should he apologise? He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had done the opposite. He had solved the problem, not made it worse. It was her that was still in a snit over something she should have got over years ago.

She had been a cute little kid but once she’d hit her teens she’d changed into a flirty little vamp. It had driven him nuts. She had followed him around like a loyal puppy, trying to sneak time with him, touching him ‘by accident’ and batting those impossibly long eyelashes at him. He had gone along with it for a while, flirting back in a playful manner, but in the end that had backfired, as she’d seemed to think he was serious about her. He wasn’t serious about anyone. But on the night of his parents New Year’s Eve party, when she’d been sixteen and he twenty-six, he had drawn the line. He’d activated a plan to give her the message loud and clear: He was a player, not the soppy, romantic happy-ever-after beau she imagined him to be.

That night she had dressed in a revealing outfit that was far too old for her and had worn make-up far too heavy. To Jake she had looked like a kid who had rummaged around in her mother’s wardrobe. In the dark. He had gone along with her flirtation all evening, agreeing to meet with her in his room just after midnight. But instead of turning up alone as she’d expected he’d brought a couple of girls with him, intending to shock Jasmine into thinking he was expecting an orgy. It had certainly done the trick. She had left him alone ever since. He couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken to him other than to make some cutting remark and the only time she looked at him was to spear him with a death-adder glare. Which had suited him just fine.

Until now.

Now he had to work out a way of hanging around with her without wanting to... Well, he didn’t want to admit to what he wanted to do with her. But he was only human and a full-blooded male, after all. She was the stuff of male fantasies. He would never admit it to anyone but over the years he’d enjoyed a few fantasies of her in his morning shower. She was sultry and sulky, yet she had a razor-sharp wit and intelligence to match. She had done well for herself, building her business up from scratch, although he thought she was heading for a burnout by trying to do everything herself. Not that she would ever ask his advice. She was too proud. She would rather go bankrupt than admit she might have made a mistake.

Jake dragged a hand down his face. This was going to be the longest week or two of his life. What did Jasmine expect of him? How far did she want this act to go? She surely wouldn’t want to sleep with him if she was still hankering after her ex? Not that she showed any sign of being attracted to him, although she did have a habit of looking at his mouth now and again. But everyone knew how much she hated him. Not that a bit of hate got in the way of good sex.

Sheesh. He had to stop thinking about sex and Jasmine in the same sentence. He had never seen her as a sister, even though she had been brought up as one at Ravensdene. Or at least not since she’d hit her teens. She’d grown from being a gangly, awkward teenager into an unusual but no less stunning beauty. Her features were not what one could describe as classically beautiful, but there was some indefinable element to the prominence of her brows and the ice-blue and storm-grey of her eyes that made her unforgettable. She had a model-slim figure and lustrous, wavy honey-brown hair that fell midway down her back. Her skin was creamy and smooth and looked fabulous with or without make-up, although she used make-up superbly these days.

Her mouth... How could he describe it? It was perfect. Simply perfect. He had never seen a more beautiful mouth. The lower lip was full and shapely, the top one a perfect arc above it. The vermillion borders of her lips were so neatly aligned it was as if a master had drawn them. She had a way of slightly elevating her chin, giving her a haughty air that belied her humble beginnings. Her nose, too, had the look of an aristocrat about it with its ski-slope contour. When she smiled—which she rarely did when he was around—it lit up the room. He had seen grown men buckle at the knees at that smile.

Jake’s phone vibrated where he’d left it on the bedside table. He glanced at the screen and saw it was Julius. His twin had called six times now. Better get it over with, he thought, and answered.

‘Is this some kind of prank?’ Julius said without preamble.

‘No, it’s—’

‘Jaz and you?’ Julius cut him off. ‘Come on, man. You hate her guts. You can’t stand being in the same room as her. What happened?’

‘It was time to bury the hatchet,’ Jake said.

‘You think I came down in the last shower?’ Julius said. ‘I know wedding fever has hit with Holly and me, and now Miranda and Leandro, but you and Jaz? I don’t buy it for a New York picosecond. What’s she got on you? Is she holding a AK-47 to your head?’

Jake let out a rough-edged sigh. He could lie to anyone else but not his identical twin. All that time in the womb had given them a connection beyond what normal siblings felt. They even felt each other’s pain. When Julius had had his appendix out when he was fifteen Jake had felt like someone was ripping his guts out. ‘I’ve been having a little problem with a girl,’ he said. ‘A teenager.’

‘I’m not sure I want to hear this.’

‘It’s not what you think,’ Jake said and explained the situation before adding, ‘Jasmine intercepted Emma at the door and told her we were engaged.’

‘How did this girl Emma take it?’

‘Surprisingly well,’ Jake said.

‘What about Jaz’s fiancé?’

‘I have no idea,’ Jake said. ‘He’s either relieved she’s off his hands or he’s going to turn up at my place and shoot out my kneecaps.’

‘Always a possibility.’

‘Don’t remind me.’

There was a beat of silence.

‘You’re not going to sleep with her, are you?’ Julius said.

‘God, no,’ Jake said. ‘I wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole.’

‘Yes, well, I suggest you keep your barge pole zipped in your pants,’ Julius said dryly. ‘What actually happened with you guys that night at the party? I know she came to your room but you’ve never said what went on other than you didn’t touch her.’

‘I didn’t do anything except send her on her way,’ Jake said. ‘You know what she was like, always following me about, giving me sheep’s eyes. I taught her a lesson by offering her a foursome but she declined.’

‘A novel approach.’

‘It worked.’

‘Maybe, but don’t you think her anger is a little out of proportion?’ Julius said.

‘That’s just Jasmine,’ Jake said. ‘She’s always had a rotten temper.’

‘I don’t know... I sometimes wonder if something else happened that night.’

‘Like what?’

‘She’d been drinking and was obviously upset after leaving your room,’ Julius said. ‘Not a good combination in a teenage girl.’

Jake hung up a short time later once they’d switched topics but he couldn’t get rid of the seed of unease Julius had planted in his mind. Had something happened that night after Jasmine had left his room? Was that why she had been so protective of young Emma, making sure she got home safely with an adult at the other end to meet her? The rest of that night was a bit of blur for him. Most of his parents’ parties ended up that way. Even some of his parties were a little full-on too. There was always a lot of alcohol, loud music blaring and people coming and going. He had been feeling too pleased with himself for solving the Jasmine problem to give much thought to where she’d gone after leaving his room. At twenty-six what he had done had seemed the perfect solution. The only solution.

Now, at thirty-three, he wasn’t quite so sure.

* * *

Jaz was making herself a nightcap in the kitchen when Jake strolled in. ‘Finding it hard to sleep without a playgirl bunny or three in your bed to keep you warm?’

‘What happened after you left my room that night?’

Jaz lowered her gaze to her chocolate drink rather than meet his piercing blue eyes. The chocolate swirled as she stirred it with the teaspoon, creating a whirlpool not unlike the one she could feel in the pit of her stomach. She never thought about that night. That night had happened to another person. It had happened to a foolish, gauche kid who’d had too much to drink and had been too emotionally unstable to know what she was doing or what she was getting into.

‘Jasmine. Answer me.’

Jaz lifted her gaze to his and frowned. ‘Why do you always call me Jasmine instead of Jaz? You’re the only one in your family who insists on doing that. Why?’

‘It’s your name.’

‘So? Yours is Jacques but you don’t like being called that,’ Jaz pointed out. ‘Maybe I’ll start to.’

‘Julius knows.’

Her heart gave a little stumble. ‘Knows what?’

‘About us,’ he said. ‘About this not being real.’

Jaz took a moment to get her head sorted. She’d thought he meant Julius knew about that night... But how could he? He would have said something if he did. He was the sort of man who would have got her to press charges. He wouldn’t have stood by and let someone get away with it. ‘Oh...right; well, I guess he’s your twin and all.’

‘He won’t tell anyone apart from Holly.’

‘Good,’ Jaz said. ‘The less people who know, the better.’

Jake pulled out a kitchen stool and sat opposite her at the island bench. ‘You want to make me one of those?’

She lifted her chin. ‘Make it yourself.’

A slow smile came to his mouth. ‘I guess I’d better in case you put cyanide in it.’

Jaz forced her gaze away from the tempting curve of his mouth. It wasn’t fair that one man had so much darn sex appeal. It came off him in waves. She felt it brush against her skin, making her body tingle at the thought of him touching her for real. Ever since his arm had brushed against hers, ever since he’d slung his arm around her shoulders and leaned in against her, she had longed for him to do it again. It was like every nerve under her skin was sitting bolt upright and wide awake, waiting with bated breath for him to touch her again.

She was aware of him in other parts of her body. The secret parts. Her breasts and inner core tingled from the moment he’d stepped into the same room. It was like he could turn a switch in her body simply by being present. She watched covertly as he moved about the kitchen, fetching a cup and the tin of chocolate powder and stirring it into the milk before he turned to put it in the microwave.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his back and shoulders. He was wearing a cotton T-shirt that showcased every sculpted muscle on his frame. How would it feel to slide her hands down his tautly muscled back? To slip one of her hands past the waistband of his jeans and cup his trim buttocks, or what was on the other side of his testosterone-rich groin?

Jaz gave herself a mental shake. She was on a mission to win back Myles. Getting involved with Jake was out of the question. Not that he would ever want her. He loathed her just as much as she loathed him. But men could separate their emotions from sex. She of all people knew that. Maybe he would want to make the most of their situation—a little fling to pass the time until he could get back to his simpering starlets and Hollywood hopefuls. Her mind started to drift... What would it feel like to have Jake make love to her? To have his hands stroke every inch of her flesh, to have his mouth plunder hers?

Jake turned from the microwave. ‘Is something wrong?’

Jaz blinked to reset her vision. ‘That was weird. I thought I saw you actually lift a finger in the kitchen. I must be hallucinating.’

He laughed and pulled out one of the stools opposite hers at the kitchen bench. ‘I can find my way around a kitchen when I need to.’

Jaz’s top lip lifted in a cynical arc. ‘Like when no slavishly devoted woman is there to cater to your every whim?’

His eyes held hers in a penetrating lock. She felt the power of it go through her like a current of electricity. ‘How much did you have to drink that night?’ he asked.

She pushed her untouched chocolate away and slipped off the stool. ‘Clean up your mess when you’re done in here. Eggles won’t be back till Sunday night.’

Jaz almost got to the door, but then Jake’s hand came out of nowhere and turned her to face him. His warm, strong fingers curling around her arm sent a shockwave through her body, making her feel as if someone inside her stomach had shuffled a deck of cards. Quickly. Vegas-quick. She moistened her lips with her tongue as she brought her gaze to his dark-blue one. His ink-black lashes were at half-mast, giving him a sexily hooded look. She looked at his mouth and felt that shuffle in her heart valves this time. She could look at his twin’s mouth any time without this crazy reaction. What was it about Jake’s mouth that turned her into a quivering mess of female hormones? Was it because, try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel pressed to hers? ‘I don’t remember giving you permission to touch me,’ she said.

Instead of releasing her he slid his fingers down to the bones of her wrist and encircled it like a pair of gentle handcuffs. ‘Talk to me,’ he said in a deep, gravel-rough voice that made the entire length of her spine soften like candle wax in a steam room.

Jaz tested his hold but all it did was take him with her to the doorframe, which was just an inch or so behind her. She pressed her back against it for stability because right then her legs weren’t doing such a great job of holding her upright. He was now so close she could see the individual pinpricks of stubble along his jaw and around his nose and mouth. She could feel their breath intermingling. His muscle-packed thighs were within a hair’s breadth of hers, his booted feet toe-to-toe with her bare ones. ‘Wh-what are you doing?’ she said in a voice she barely recognised as her own.

His eyes went to her mouth, lingering there for endless, heart-stopping seconds. ‘Ever wondered what would happen if we kissed?’

Like just about every day for the last seven years. ‘You’d get your face slapped, that’s what.’

A smile hitched up one side of his mouth. ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’

Jaz felt like her heart rate was trying to get into the Guinness Book of Records. She could smell those lime and lemongrass notes of his aftershave and something else that was one part musk and three parts male. ‘But you’re not going to do it, right?’

He moved around her mouth like a metal detector just above the ground where something valuable was hidden. He didn’t touch down but he might as well have because she felt the tingling in her lips as if he was transmitting raw sexual energy from his body to hers. ‘You think about it, don’t you? About us getting down to business.’

Oh, dear God in heaven, where is my willpower? Jaz thought as her senses went haywire. She had never wanted to be kissed more in her life than right then. She had never wanted to feel a man’s arms go around her and pull her into his hard body. Desire moved through her like a prowling, hungry beast looking for satiation. She felt it in her blood, the tick of arousal. She felt it in her breasts, the prickly sensation of them shifting against the lace of her bra as if they couldn’t wait for him to get his hands or mouth on them. She felt it in her core, the pulse and contraction of her inner muscles in anticipatory excitement. ‘No, I don’t. I never think about it.’

He gave a soft chuckle as he stepped back from her. ‘No, nor do I.’

Jaz stood in numb silence as he went back to the island bench to pick up his hot chocolate. She watched as he lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip. He put the mug down and cocked a brow at her. ‘Something wrong?’

She pushed herself away from the doorframe, tucking her hair back over one shoulder with a hand that wasn’t as steady as she would have liked. ‘We haven’t discussed the rules about our engagement.’

‘Rules?’

Jaz gave him a look. ‘Yes, rules. Not your favourite word, is it?’

His eyes glinted. ‘Far as I’m concerned, they’re only there to be broken.’

She steeled her spine. ‘Not this time.’

‘Is that a dare?’

Jaz could feel every cell in her body being pulled and tugged by the animal attraction he evoked in her. She couldn’t understand why someone she hated so much could have such a monumental effect on her. She wanted to throw herself at him, tear at his clothes and crawl all over his body. She wanted to lock her mouth on his and tangle her tongue with his in an erotic salsa. She wanted him inside her body. She could feel the hollow vault of her womanhood pulsating with need. She could even feel the dew of her intimate moisture gathering. She wanted him like a drug she knew she shouldn’t have. He was contraband. Dangerous. ‘Is the thought of being celibate for a week or two really that difficult for you?’

He gave a lip shrug. ‘Never done it before, so I wouldn’t know.’

Jaz mentally rolled her eyes. ‘Do you have shares in a condom manufacturer or something?’

His dark eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘Now there’s an idea.’

She picked up her mug of chocolate, not to drink, but to give her hands something to do in case they took it upon themselves to touch him. ‘I find your shallow approach to relationships deeply offensive. It’s like you only see women as objects you can use to satisfy a bodily need. You don’t see them as real people who have feelings.’

‘I have the greatest respect for women. That’s why I’m always honest with them about what I want from them.’

Jaz eyeballed him. ‘I think it’s because you’re scared of commitment. You can’t handle the thought of someone leaving you so you don’t let yourself bond with them in the first place.’

He gave a mocking laugh. ‘You got a printout of that psychology degree you bought online?’

‘That’s another thing you do,’ Jaz said. ‘You joke your way through life because being serious about stuff terrifies you.’

His mouth was smiling but his eyes were not. They had become as hard as flint. ‘Ever wondered why your three fiancés have dumped you before you could march them up the aisle?’

Jaz ground her teeth together until her jaw ached. ‘Myles hasn’t dumped me. We’re on a break. It’s not the same as being...breaking up.’

‘You’re a ballbreaker. You don’t want a man. You want a puppet. Someone you can wind around your little finger to do what you want when you want. No man worth his testosterone will stand for that.’

Jaz could feel her anger straining at the leash of her control like a feral dog tied up with a piece of cotton. Her fingers around the mug of chocolate twitched. How she would love to spray it over Jake’s arrogant face. ‘You enjoy humiliating me, don’t you? It gives you such a big, fat hard-on, doesn’t it?’

His jaw worked as if her words had hit a raw nerve. ‘While we’re playing Ten Things I Hate About You, here’s another one for my list. You need to get over yourself. You’ve held onto this ridiculous grudge for far too long.’

Jaz saw the hot chocolate fly through the air before she fully registered she’d thrown it. It splashed over the front of his T-shirt like brown paint thrown at a wall.

Jake barely moved a muscle. He was as still as a statue on a plinth. Too still.

The silence was breathing, heaving with menace.

But then he calmly reached over the back of his head, hauled the T-shirt off, bunched it up into a rough ball and handed it to her. ‘Wash it.’

Jaz swallowed as she looked at the T-shirt. She had lost control. A thing she had sworn she would never do. Crazy people like her mother lost control. They shouted and screamed and threw things. Not her. She never let anyone do that to her. A tight knot of self-disgust began to choke her. Tears welled up behind her eyes, escaping from a place she had thought she had locked and bolted for good. Tears she hadn’t cried since that night when she had finally made it back to her bedroom with shame clinging to her like filth. No amount of showering had removed it. If she thought about that night she would feel it clogging every pore of her skin like engine grease. She took the T-shirt from him with an unsteady hand. ‘I’m sorry...’

‘Forget about it.’

I only wish I could, Jaz thought. But when she finally worked up the courage to look up he had already turned on his heel and gone.