Chapter Fifteen
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The rumpled sheets smelled like him, she thought, as she got into his bed. He dwarfed her old twin with his massive frame, but even in this large queen-sized bed, gravity kept her flush against him when the two of them were on the memory foam together.
He tugged at her sweatshirt. “Keeping this on?”
“Yes,” she mumbled.
He just made a mild editorial grunt, squeezing her body a little tighter through the cotton.
Jay looked at his sitting area with the two brocaded chairs and loveseat as his arm settled around her waist, keeping her back pressed against his chest. One of his legs was pressed between hers, and though he had his hips tilted away from her, she could feel the heat of body against her bare thighs.
She covered his hand, smoothing her fingers over his knuckles. “Will you tell me what’s wrong now?” she asked quietly. “If I’m supposed to trust you, you have to trust me.”
Nicholas sighed. But then, in the moderated tones of a man who treated his feelings like unpleasant business, he began to talk.
He told her how hollow he felt at work and how bitterly he resented everyone in town for their complicity in his father’s dealings. He was furious over how people were treating her, in particular, and after he again demanded the names of the people who she had heard spreading rumors, he confessed that he was afraid she wouldn’t marry him if she didn’t get the job.
Jay felt a wave of pity. Nobody had ever taught him that love wasn’t something you could bargain for or buy.No wonder he was so unhappy, she thought.Nick, you foolish boy.
“It’s not about the job. It’s about you treating me like an equal, and not using your money as a tool of control.” She touched his arm gently. “It sounds like work is stressing you out.”
“No,” he said, and she felt him shake his head. “It just doesn’t do what it used to for me.”
“Well, that sounds like you’re depressed.” She ran her fingers over his forearm, flattening the springy hairs and watching them bounce back up. “It happens to me sometimes.”
“Men like me don’t get depressed.”
“Men like youdoif they feel like they don’t have a purpose in life. What’s yours?” She tilted her head back to look at him. “Have you ever thought about starting a charity?”
“So help me, Jay, if you whip out a bible—”
Jay smacked his arm. “You funnel money into the town with all your big investments, but you’re mostly just helping your rich friends. You have the power to change someone’s life if you wanted to. I mean, look at me. I went to a great school but had to use your father’s money to do it, and if it weren’t for the optics of having a dropout as a stepchild, he would have cut me off. I was completely dependent on him—”
She paused, struggling to stay composed.
“You could send kids to school.”
“You want me to use my money on a bunch of brats?” He tugged at her sweatshirt sleeve, baring part of her shoulder. He nipped at her gently. “I’d rather use it on you.”
“It could be a wedding present,” said Jay.
Nicholas paused, his breath stirring the fine hairs at her nape. She felt him turn to study her, and when he did, his cock nudged against her backside. “I was going to take you to Singapore.” He sounded surprisingly hesitant. “That’s what you want?”
“I think it would be very sweet of you.” She leaned back against him. “I think it would make you feel good, too.”
“I forgot what an idealist you are.”
“It’s not a bad thing, wanting the best out of people.”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” She felt him playing with her hair. She hadn’t dried it properly and now the frizzy little strands were unwinding from themselves like small pinwheels. “It just says so much about you.”
“Like?” she prompted.
“Why you keep giving second chances to people who don’t deserve it.”
Jay rolled around to face him. He was lying on his side propping up his head with one hand. The other, which had been resting over her stomach, was now on the bed.
