There is no doorman waiting to greet us, no household staff ready to tend his every need or whim. It’s just the two of us beneath the soaring, dark wood rafters of a spacious great room painted in shades of white and ecru.
The simple, inviting furniture is similarly neutral, accented by a wall of filled bookcases and art of various styles and materials. The room in its entirety is like a blank canvas that’s been arranged to make the most of the real star of the show, the tall windows looking out over a sandy, grass-covered dune and the sparkling expanse of dark blue water with its gently rolling waves that spread out as far as the eye can see.
“What do you think?”
“It’s lovely.” I glance over my shoulder and find him looking at me. “This isn’t the kind of place I imagined you working in.”
“No?” He cocks his head slightly, a quiet grunt emanating from low in his throat. “How exactly have you been imagining me, Ms. Laurent?”
It’s a loaded question, and I don’t doubt for a second that he’s aware of that fact. If I admit I’ve been thinking about him, picturing him at work, wondering about the unreadable man beneath the very public facade, I’ll only feed into his already gargantuan ego. Not that my denial would hold any water with him, either. He’s invaded my thoughts from the moment we met. He’s dominated them, the way his presence dominates all of my senses now.
I avert my gaze back to the sun-dappled waves, because looking at Jared Rush only makes me intensely aware of the heat and size of him. Not to mention how insanely good he smells. Spicy and fresh, enticingly male. God help me, I’d be aware of all that even if he were standing in another room.
“Are you going to tell me what’s in that pretty head of yours, or are you going to leave me to guess?”
His deep voice slices through my resistance the way nothing else can. If my curiosity wasn’t so piqued I might ignore the bait he’s daring me to take. His probing gaze is even harder to ignore. I can feel it boring into me, daring me to face him.
I draw in a breath as I look at him. “Do you want to know the truth?”
“Always. Especially from you.” It’s a crisp answer. A coldly serious one.
Something quick and dark flashes across his expression. A warning. Which is rich, coming from him.
I scoff quietly and it lifts one of his brows. “Is there something funny about expecting honesty from someone?”
“Not at all. I just think it’s ironic that you’d demand it when you practically pulse with private agendas and secrecy.”
“Is that so.” I can’t tell if he’s amused or annoyed with me in the long moment that passes before he speaks again. “I thought my agenda couldn’t be spelled out more clearly. You have a signed copy of it, in fact.”
Until a few days ago, Jared Rush was nothing more than a distant name to me. An enigma in a city full of mysterious and sinister figures who existed far beyond my orbit. Now, here I am, alone with him in a remote, empty house for the next several hours with the full understanding that at any moment I will be obliged to take off my clothes for him.
Again.
The thought of being naked in front of him doesn’t unnerve me as it did before. Jared Rush doesn’t scare me, even though he probably should. He’d like me to be afraid, I’m sure. All the better to peel me apart, bit by bit, on his canvas the way he’s done with everyone else who’s come before me.
But I’m not going to play that game with him.
If I’m to be examined and dissected, exposed to the very core of my being, then so will he.
I pivot away from the glass to face him fully. He’s unearthly handsome in the gilded morning light. Smooth, bronzed skin. Chiseled cheekbones and a stubborn, squared chin under the dark whiskers framing the generous line of his mouth. His absorbing, intense eyes are the only part of his face that seems immune to the warmth of the light. Filled with impenetrable shadows, they could pull me under with him if I’m not careful.
“I know what your contract states. What I haven’t figured out yet is what you really want to get in the end.”
“I want what I’m due, Ms. Laurent.”
“You’re not just talking about money. Are you?” In his cold silence, I scoff again, more sharply this time. “If that’s all this was about, you wouldn’t have offered double what Daniel owes.”
“I offered double because that’s what it took to get you here. I would’ve paid a great deal more.”
A dark look smolders on his profanely handsome face. He holds me in that unnerving stare of his, the one that makes me feel like I’m already naked. It sends a shiver of heat through my veins, a look that should send me bolting for the door and the nearest escape out of here, away from him.
Instead, it does the opposite. It makes me determined to unlock whatever it is Jared Rush keeps walled up behind the cold indifference of his eyes. He’s got secrets hidden behind the mask of his cool control, the kinds that carry deep pain and scars.
I want to uncover them all. Against every shred of logic and self-preservation I possess, I want to understand who Jared Rush really is on the inside.
“Come,” he says. “My studio is on the other side of the house. I only have you for a few hours, so we should get started.”
I swallow, then fall in beside him as he leads me away from the expansive living area and down an airy atrium hallway. Windows overhead frame blue sky and frothy clouds, inviting an abundance of natural light into every corner of the welcoming house. It’s an artist’s house, no question, each tastefully furnished room presenting an interesting and ever-changing backdrop of form and light and shadows.
