Relief bursts in my gut, but it’s short-lived. ‘What will you offer?’
‘I haven’t decided yet.’
His expression shows concentration and concern. It’s the latter that worries me. He’s analysing me, this, and treating me with kid gloves. Because we’ve slept together. What an idiot I was for thinking I could keep the business out of bed!
‘I need to review the financials you’ve given me. The offer I make will be fair, based on what I think this place is worth. You’ll take it to Orion and he’ll accept, because he’s not an idiot and he’ll know a buyer with readily available funds is worth more than the promise of a future sale for a few extra mill.’
He’s probably right. I’ve sold enough properties to know it’s never black and white—the smallest details can convince someone to sell. Besides, my job is to get this over the line. But what if my relationship with Jagger is part of why I push Orion into accepting this deal?
The ethics of this situation are no longer clear. Or maybe they are, maybe I see them with absolute clarity and I know what they’re telling me to do. But I don’t need to tell Jagger that. I’ll work out how to make this okay once he’s gone. Once this is over.
For now, we have one night left. One humid, sultry night.
‘What do you think?’ My voice catches a little in my throat, hoarse with desire. I turn my head to the side, towards the beach. ‘Another hour before sundown?’
His gaze follows mine. ‘I’m prepared to relax our rules on this last night.’
My lips twitch. ‘Rules are rules, Mr Hart.’
His groan is a gravelly sound from deep in his gut. He drops his head forward, pressing it to mine, and I breathe in deeply. He’s an intoxicating mix of woody soap smell and something that’s just him. It hits me in the gut—the memory of our first night together, when I just wanted to fuck some guy, when I wanted to put Gareth’s wedding out of my mind.
And now?
There’s so much less real estate for Gareth in my head.
‘If you’re determined to torment me,’ he says, brushing his lips over mine then pulling away, ‘why don’t you throw on your swimmers and we’ll check out the pool?’
My smile is sceptical. ‘That doesn’t sound like something a commercial sales agent would do with a buyer...’
‘Oh, it would be purely professional, Miss Llewellyn, I
promise.’
‘And you’re a man of your word.’
He takes a step back and draws his finger over his chest. ‘Cross my heart.’
He crosses his heart and my own heart reacts, my own heart jumps. My own heart reminds me it’s there, inside me, a part of me, feeling what I feel, wanting more than I’ve considered I might want.
My own heart is going to cause me problems, I think.
* * *
As soon as I get to the pool his plan takes on a new level of deviousness. The sun is still giving off warmth and light, ergo, it is daylight, and yet...watching Jagger Hart stroll around the pool in just a pair of black board shorts, his chest wet from where he’s presumably already been swimming, desire is a torrent in my bloodstream.
There is power here, an inevitability, a push, a pull, a need, a want.
I had no idea I could be self-conscious until this moment as he strolls towards me, a smile on his face, his handsome face, his eyes swarming with thoughts that make it impossible for me to think straight. I brought a utilitarian one-piece for this trip. Hey, when I packed a few mornings ago I was exhausted from a night with Jagger, and I didn’t exactly know I’d be spending three days with someone like him, wanting to seduce and be seduced...
I brought bathers for the pool inside, figuring I might want to do a few laps one morning.
But when I lift my arms to slide my loose T-shirt from my body, heat throbs from Jagger to me. His eyes follow the action, up my arms, over my head and then, as I bring my arms to my sides, he stands right where he is, letting his gaze trickle over me slowly, so slowly.
My breath escapes on a sharp hiss. His smile is weak.
‘I made a promise,’ he says quietly, taking a step towards me. My heart scrunches. I bite down on my lip and just stare at him.
‘Tell me it doesn’t matter,’ he says softly, his eyes pleading with mine. ‘Tell me you’re Grace now, and I can touch you.’