Chapter 13

MELODY

I don't wantto look like a fool, making weird faces and playing dumb, so I lift my gaze, flash a polite smile, and barely spare a second to zip my eyes to Jax London, who somehow has sucked the air out of the dining room, rendering everyone inside quiet.

He towers over every person in this place, his dark clothes and tattoos screaming he doesn't belong.

His magnetic eyes barely hold back a smile.

He promised he wouldn't go away, didn't he?

He said it, and now he does it.

But here?

Has he followed me?

No. Maybe, yes. No, hell no. I would've seen him.

Was it someone else on my tail? I would've noticed it, and then a light bulb goes offin my head.

Wait a minute. The car that had trailed me in Manhattan. Was that a coincidence? No. I don't think so.

It was him.

He knew I rented a car and what kind of car it was.

And then there was the man I talked to as I picked up my car. He gave me tips on what roads to take to avoid traffic.

He knew my destination, and if Jax had talked to him, so did Jax.

Ugh.

I try to let nothing out.

"My friend. Yes, my friend," I mutter, holding Jax's eyes.

A secret smile colors his gaze while Olivia unsuspectingly invites him to sit across from me.

She sets a new plate, napkins, and silverware in front of him while he pulls the chair out and slides into his seat.

"I'm glad you asked him to join you. He is more than welcome to stay here overnight," Olivia says, while I get dizzy grasping the meaning of her words.

He told her I'd asked him to join me?

What a lie.

My response is prompt.

"Oh. Yes… Unfortunately,hecan't stay. He passed through town and wanted to see me."

Olivia looks at me, puzzled, her hand tense around his glass.

She thought she had it all figured out.

What had possibly made her think the man in front of me had anything to do with me?

Well…

For one, he's stunning.

And it's not like he's cleaned up hisbadboyact. Or that I want him to clean up his act. He's very much a tall, broody, tattooed, muscular, green-eyed sex god.

He fools no one.

Even I can see that, although I have no intention of falling for it.

Besides, he and I would've never crossed paths had we not met at Aretha Stenson.

He wears a Celtic knot ring on one hand, a skull-embellished ring on the other, and a chain necklace with a pendant depicting a god with the head of a lion.

His raven hair glistens with rain, his eyes look like gemstone waters, and his clean-shaven skin sets off his high cheekbones.

My eyes dip to his sultry lips, and he catches me doing that and flashes a smile.

"Through town?" Olivia asks, bewildered, and for a good reason, I might add.

The nearest town is miles and miles away.

Amused, he cocks an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side, awaiting my answer.

My mind is blank now, so she goes on.

"Perhaps he can have dinner before heading back to New York. It's a long trip."

When did he have time to tell her all that?

Now I look like some ungrateful jerk sending him away.

"Sure, he can have dinner."

Her face lights up.

"Are you hungry?" she asks motherly, and I can't help but roll my eyes.

He catches thattoo, and bites back a grin.

"I'm famished," he says, and something tells me it's not the food he's talking about.

She goes over his food options before he orders steak, crisp potato skins, and grilled veggies. No drinks, only water. No desserts and no bread.

"Are you on a diet?" I ask as Olivia heads straight to the kitchen,

He sets his elbows on the table and surreptitiously glances around the room.

"Angry much?" he says under his breath beforebringing his eyes back.

He wears a dark zippered jacket open at the chest with a tight black top.

I struggle to hold his gaze, so I lift my glass of wine, take a sip, and glance away, hiding my expression behind my drink.

"Why are you here?" I ask quietly, putting my glass down and clasping my fingers together.

His leather jacket makes a swishy noise when he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. The jacket is a fashion piece and must've cost a pretty penny.

He purses his lips into a playful smile.

"You're not fucking with me this evening," I say quietly but firmly. "I came here to relax."

"Mm-hmm. I heard you got the honeymoon suite. Is that your idea of relaxing? Or, um…?"

He glances over his shoulder as if looking for someone, and two women stare at him while he shifts his focus back to me, a knowing grin on his face.

"Thomas–guydidn't make it?" he tosses at me facetiously.

"Oh, shut up," I chide him quietly.

"Why's that? You put a spell on him and not of the good variety."

"You think everything is about sex?" I snap in a hushed voice, dense enough to telegraph how sexually frustrated I am.

His grin widens.

"Everything is about sex…" he says in a muted tone, so the conversation remains between us. "Especially now."

His eyes delve deep into mine while he slowly shakes his head.

"It starts with sex," he says. "Then you have feelings. And if you're lucky, you grow like ivy around each other and never pull apart."

I mull over his line.

It is a pickup line. I know these things.

"I don't believe a word you say," I murmur.

He dismisses everything he just said with a knowing laugh.

But what if sex is what it's all about? Right now. On this evening. This dark, rainy night. Isn't he here because of sex?

Perhaps he thought I'd say yes to him.

Two thoughts spin around my head at once. What would the morning after look like with him?

And then, how would I feel about it?

Somehow, he matters to me, and I already have this rule in place about sex.

Or rather about not having sex too soon.

But with him, it"s more than that.

Buried deep in my head is this idea that I don't want to screw things up with this man, and that gives me pause.

He studies my expression, and luckily, Olivia arrives with a plate of appetizers and warm dinner rolls.

"I know you said no bread, and hopefully, you're not allergic to wheat, but maybe you want to try them. They're delicious."

He seems more open to the idea, admitting he is not allergic and that it is just a matter of diet.

"So you are on a diet…" I say when the hostess moves away.

He unzips his jacket and takes it off before draping it over the back of his chair. He's like a time traveler in this beautifully conserved historical inn.

Despite all that, I've never seen a man more at ease in his surroundings. His adjusting capabilities are remarkable. I remember having a worse time adjusting to a new Pilates class than he has here.

And he is hungry indeed.

He invites me to taste his food, and I assure him I'm full, so he digs in.

"I got used to not eating bread when I went through some grueling workout sessions. I'm not a fan of it, but these are good," he says, talking around his food.

His teeth look feral as he enjoys his food with a passion I rarely see in people.

He looks sorealand alive next to the men I dated, but this is not about dating him or my life before him.

He never said he wanted to date me.

He said he wanted me to give him a chance so he could teach me things.

He said he'd do it anyway, and there he is, doing it.

Teaching me things.

MELODY

I watchhim sink his teeth into his steak, and I get shivers imagining him biting into my shoulder, neck, or even inner thigh.

You can call me anything. Driven, ambitious, hard-working, spunky, clever. Cutthroat when it comes to business. And even a bitch. But one thing no one can call me.

A sexually adventurous person.

On a scale from one to ten, the best sex I've ever had was an eight. It was good but not memorable. Passion was never in the cards for me.

I've never experienced it with a man.

Perhaps because I've always looked for a particular type who never let passion get in the way and primal needs run their lives.

Even Ellis Wilton, allegedly a player––or sociopath as Dr. Stenson likes to call him––has never been a man with deep desires.

The man in front of me seems to be carved out of passion. He haspassionto live, eat, fuck––sometimes with people––and just take whatever he thinks is his.

Everything about him is intoxicating, and maybethat's why I can't take my eyes away from him.

He finishes his food and gulps down water.

The dining room is almost empty when he runs a napkin over his kissable lips and stretches a smile.

He pulls cash from inside his jacket and leaves it on the table under his plate.

It's more than I paid for my dinner, but he doesn't care to ask Olivia for the check.

"So, what do you plan to do?" I ask, my eyes glued to his face.

I barely finish my question when a gust of wind hits the window with unexpected force. A jagged lightning flashes up in the sky, and a thunderbolt booms nearby before rain falls with a vengeance.

"Where does that come from?" Olivia murmurs, rushing to secure the windows. "Herbert, can you please check the door? And Ian, make sure the horses are okay?"

"Everything is fine," her son says while her husband paces to the hallway.

A few guests linger in the lounging room when Olivia turns to us.

"You're not going anywhere in this weather," she says to Jax before moving her eyes to me and waiting for my reaction.

Jax watches me through his lashes, a smile clinging to his lips.

He knows how much I hate to be the bad guy.

I'm not unreasonable by any stretch of the imagination, andnormally, I would invite him to stay.

With him, though, I don't trust myself.

He reads my eyes a little longer before moving his gaze to Olivia.

"I'll go. No problem. I'm used to driving in this kind of weather."

Olivia shoots a concerned look at me.

She doesn't understand why I resist the idea of him staying the night and hopes to hear something different from me.

"You could at least wait for it to pass.Noneed to drive in these horrible conditions,unless something urgent asks for your presence in New York."

We both look at him.

"There isn't anything that urgent to keep me away from Miss Hill."

My heart stops.

Of all thepeople,he picked to do this in Olivia's presence? A woman who's been nothing but gracious to me?

They both stare at me.

A few seconds pass while I try not to let out how troubled I am by the idea of being with this man alone, hundreds of miles away from home, in a honeymoon suite, of all places, and on a stormy night.

I couldn't have planned this even if I tried.

"I have nothing against it," I say, sounding hypocritical as if everything is about me.

Olivia's face lights up, while Jax's expression stays blank.

He got what he wanted.