First Time For Everything

All thanks to the constant flame burning in her body since The Kiss.

A spark that refused to die.

Considering she’d made a vow to be strong until she found someone who was right for her—someone who didn’t consider Jacqueline Lee a total loon—she should be grateful Blake had the ability to control what she couldn’t.

From behind her, Nikki called out in greeting. “Blake, my long-lost big bro.”

Jax’s heart surged, but she refused to turn and watch him approach, dreading seeing him again. Disgusted with the cowardly thoughts, Jax flopped over onto her stomach and buried her head in her crossed arms.

Right now, she wasn’t sure what annoyed her more, her ambivalent feelings about his appearance, or his cool control. Was he here simply to torture her? To rub her face in the knowledge that she had made a pass at him and he’d pushed her away? On edge, and unable to lie still now that he was present, Jax rose and dived into the pool.

A jolt of cool water closed around her overheated body, giving her the shock she needed, clearing her head. She set off across the pool, freestyle.

Of course he hadn’t come to see her. He was here to eat lunch with his mother and sister, to check up on his family because he was a no-nonsense kinda guy who believed in responsibility. Duties. Sane, rational decisions. And since Mr. Self-Control’s will was so strong, she should use that in her favor. After several laps, her muscles fatigued from the work, she’d finally calmed a bit. Maybe she was ready to face him now?

But Blake saved her the trouble of deciding.

On her last lap, she broke the surface of the water and looked up to find him staring down at her, suit coat unbuttoned to reveal a blue dress shirt and lean hips, her beach towel in his hand.

“Enjoying the water?” he said from above.

“I was,” she said, with meaningful emphasis on the second word. She dropped her gaze and crossed her arms on the pool edge, taking comfort in the warm tile and the less disturbing sight of his expensive-looking black leather shoes.

His knees came into view as he squatted down, the muscles in his legs bunching, stretching the crease in those perfectly pressed trousers.

Everything about the man was perfectly pressed, including his libido.

Irritation surged. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll ruin your suit so close to the pool?”

“Not at all.” A small lift of his broad shoulders came and went. “It’s just a suit.”

“If you can afford to pay too much for your clothes, only to treat them so cavalierly, surely you can afford your own towel.” She nodded her head toward his hand closed around the fabric. “That one’s mine.”

He glanced at the cloth he clutched. “I’m aware of that. The picture of The Doors was a dead giveaway.” Holding it out, he hiked an eyebrow expectantly. “I’m bringing it to you.”

Her brain buzzed at his proximity and the sensual awareness in his eyes. She bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t chosen the one-piece swimsuit that showed off her cleavage. “How kind,” she said, not meaning the words. “But it’s arrogant of you to assume I’m finished with my swim.”

Lips twitching, he steadily held her gaze and didn’t move. “Lunch is ready.”

Obviously, he wanted her to get out of the pool.

Frowning, her stomach in turmoil, she pressed her lips flat. The swim had been a waste. An eternity wouldn’t be long enough to face Blake across the table in a bathing suit.

“I’m not hungry yet,” she said.

“Trust me,” he said drily. “Eating my mother’s food has little to do with hunger. In my house, it’s a duty.”

“Well, then,” she said, sending a forced, brilliantly false smile up at him. “I know you are a very busy and very important man. With so many criminals to lock up and all. So please, feel free to get started without me.”

His head dipped a fraction to the right. Was that a challenge she saw in his eyes? The tone of his voice affirmed the answer to the question.

“You wouldn’t want your food to get cold,” he said, his eyes intense.

With the way he was looking at her, even the coming of a second ice age would prevent her food from getting cold. And how could he gaze at her like that? As if he wanted her but still had the power to control it. To walk away.