She clenched around him, gripping his shoulders and riding out the waves that seemed to roll on and on. Jackson’s whole body went rigid, his release pulsing inside her, deliciously warm and wet. He lay his forehead between her collarbone and jaw, rasping wordless breaths into the curve of her neck, chest heaving.
“I’ve got you,” Jackson panted. He seemed barely aware of what he was saying. “I’ve got you now, Raven. It’s going to be OK.”
Wrung out and exhausted, she slept like the dead in his arms. When Leah woke, he was gone, the sheets beside her cool. She padded to the window and looked down onto the driveway; his car wasn’t there. Damn the man!
Her body ached. Her throat hurt. But between her thighs she felt the telltale tenderness of Jackson’s possession and it was enough to know she hadn’t imagined him. This thing between them was not over.
On a wave of resolve, Leah threw on some clothes, heading downstairs to the study where she unearthed Esther’s old cell phone from the desk drawer. Inserting the SIM card from her own shattered handset, she plugged it in to charge, relieved when it lit up almost immediately. She sent Jackson a message.
I’m coming to the silent auction tonight.
It had been one of Esther’s requests for her to go, and she would not let her down. If Leah needed to play the role of society princess for a night to grant this last wish for her friend, then so be it. And, amid all the current confusion of their muddled situation, something told her that Jackson might need her there—whatever he thought about her ability to fit in.
She would do it for both of them.
An hour later—after sixty minutes of sweating and doubting herself and cursing and panicking—she received a reply.
Jackson:
I’ll leave a ticket for you on the door.
Chapter 47
Jackson
He hadn’t recognized the number when his phone rang early that morning. He nearly didn’t answer it. He’d only gone downstairs to make coffee for them both but the call put paid to his plans to clear the air with Leah when she woke.
“Jackson. This is Max Addlestone-Black.”
Surprise halted his hand on the door of the fridge. “Max. What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me if you know what your dad is doing to our company.” There was a weary edge to the combative words from the man on the other end. “Are you in on this, too?”
“In on what?”
“The dirty tricks. The fake investors.” Addlestone-Black’s tone was flat and riddled with bitterness. “Are you trying to ruin us, too?”
Jackson’s brows knitted. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I have no problem with healthy competition. I expect it. Enjoy it, even. There’s enough business out there for us all,” Max continued, his voice grim in Jackson’s ear. “I know there’s bad blood between my father and yours—I don’t know why and I don’t need to know. But this is going too far now. There’s a fine line between immoral and illegal, and Alistair is dancing on the very edge. I’masking you to consider very carefully whether you want to join him there or not.” He paused. “That’s not a threat. I’m not that person. Please don’t think I am.”
There was an odd moment of silence between them, which wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. “Tell me more, Max. Tell me everything,” Jackson said, pulling out a stool at the breakfast bar.
When he disconnected the call twenty minutes later and reached for his car keys, his confusion had solidified into ice-cold rage.
He paused by the stairs in the foyer, desperate to take the two flights at a run to Leah’s room but knowing it would have to wait. It galled him to leave when all he wanted to do was stay.
But the main priority was Leah’s safety, and a long-overdue showdown with his father beckoned. With the silent auction a matter of hours away, time was at a minimum and some things couldn’t wait. Last night, his thoughts and senses scrambled by the terror of what had almost happened, he’d still been trying to safeguard his dad’s reputation. But this morning’s wakeup call was absolute. He was not playing this game anymore.
Leah came first. Leah would always come first.
Jackson headed straight for the police station.
“This ends now.” He collared Martinez in the parking lot as the chief climbed from his car. “She could have died. She could have fucking died.”
Jackson repeated the words he’d said over and over the night before, aware he looked and sounded a little unhinged. But, dammit, he felt unhinged.
Roman Martinez simply nodded and pocketed his keys. “You should have come to me before now, Mr. Hale.”
