“You really did miss me,” I tease, breathless.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he replies. He chuckles and adjusts my bra, then picks up my dress and panties and hands them to me, then adjusts his own clothes before dropping another kiss on my lips.
“I can’t wait,” I say, laughing, before adding seriously. “I missed you so much.”
His smile disappears, and his eyes search my face. I frown, sensing the same hesitation from before.
“What’s the matter?” I ask softly, the vibe I’m getting from him brings my own fears to my mind. “Is something wrong?”
“You should get dressed,” he says, his eyes flicking to the dress I’m still holding. “There’s nothing wrong.”
He’s obviously deflecting. My shoulders drop, my mind going back to last night, and that picture of him and Ava Sinclair. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
At first I think he’s going to deflect again, but then he raises a hand to cup my chin. “I don’t like to share what’s mine,” he says, a dark edge to his voice. “Not now, not ever. Do you understand?”
I step back, suddenly aware that I’m only wearing a bra. I clutch my dress, feeling naked. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Jack Weyland.”
I meet his gaze, realizing as I see the expression on his face that he knows about last night, and that kiss. My face creases in a frown as the high from my orgasm dissipates.
“Is that why you have Rafael driving me around,” I ask evenly, “so you can spy on me?”
“I didn’t need to spy on you. You kissed him in front of my club. I didn’t need Rafael to tell me about that.”
He couldn’t have known when we spoke earlier. I remember the expression on his face when he walked into the suite, reading something on his phone. He’d probably found out just then.
“You could have asked me what happened instead of jumping to conclusions,” I say softly.
“Oh?” he raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” I glare at him. “For your information, he kissed me. I neither wanted it nor invited it. And you know what? I don’t like to share what’s mine either. So the next time you decide to enjoy Ava Sinclair’s company, you can keep that in mind.”
I leave him standing there and stalk to the bedroom. What right did he have to police my actions? I’d tried to swallow my jealousy about Ava because I did
n’t want to accuse him unnecessarily, and his first reaction to an unwanted, uninvited kiss was to accuse me.
Still clutching my dress, I go to the bathroom door and start to open it, but Landon’s voice stops me.
“I thought we’d had this conversation about Ava,” he says, his voice low.
“I thought we’d had the conversation about Jack,” I toss back. “Why were you with her yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me you used to sleep with her when I saw that picture of you two?”
“I’ve never asked you for an inventory of everyone you ever slept with,” Landon replies. “Do you think I should punctuate everything I say about her with a statement about how, a long time ago, we used to fuck?”
I pull in a short breath. So that part was true. “Maybe it would have been fair for you to give me that information seeing as everywhere I look, the two of you are being photographed together. Was it also a business meeting yesterday?” I say mockingly, “Did you decide to ‘save time’ by concluding your business over dinner?”
He laughs bitterly. “You’re one to talk. I’m supposed to endure an inquisition whenever you see and totally misconstrue a picture. Meanwhile, it’s perfectly okay for you to spend as much time as you like with your precious Jack.”
“My precious Jack?” I shake my head. I’m so angry, I want to scream in frustration, to cry, or break something. I close my eyes and sigh tiredly. “You know what? I have no idea why we’re arguing. We both know why we’re still together, so we might as well forget the things we can’t agree about and you know, maybe fuck… that’s obviously the only area where we work well together.”
His jaw sets, and I turn away from him, opening the door to the bathroom. I don’t see him start to move until he reaches me. “You’re right,” he says, taking my arm and pulling me around. “Maybe we should do just that.”
I pull my arm away from his grip. “Just as long as you know I’m not Ava.”
His laugh is angry and derisive. “And you know I’m not Jack.”
I’m suddenly on the verge of tears. “God! How can you be so…”