One Woman (Naked Trilogy 2)

“What about your calls?”

“Savage had me hold off. He’s sending them all a little ammunition to protect them from York.”

“What ammunition?”

“Clips of just his words from the recording. He’s sending it to us to approve first. It will be your call if we use it. Good?”

“Yes, good. I need to grab my phone which is somewhere in the sand.” He arches a brow and I explain, “I might have gotten a little angry over my mother and the castle stuff.”

“Note to self,” he teases, “don’t piss you off.”

“That’s right. I will throw your phone in the sand and watch you hunt for it.”

He laughs, his sexy deep laugh, and I laugh, too, but there’s an undercurrent of dread. We both know something is coming, something bad. Something to do with his brother and my family. And it’s going to be bad.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Emma…

Jax and I set aside everything but each other for the walk to the castle, and he tells me a bit about his childhood, and a dog named King Louis. “My idea,” he says. “I was always the one who had a thing for castles and history but then so did my father.”

“Your brothers didn’t?”

“For about five minutes, that ended in four,” he says, and we end up laughing at the random mischief he and the dog had dressing up like kings.

Once we’re back in his tower, our conversation continues and packing is slow but enjoyable. We just slow everything down to nothing but us. It’s short-lived though as Savage shows up and joins us in the kitchen. “For your ears only,” he says, and plays us an audio of York declaring he’d given me the best drugs, among other well-selected quotes. It paints York as the criminal that he is, but leaves me out of the audio completely.

“I can send this to everyone we think York is holding captive,” Savage suggests, “and then they’re free. They have him by the balls.” He eyes Jax. “I’ll deliver it compliments of Jax North unless you wish to remain anonymous.”

“I’ll happily endorse that message,” Jax says, eyeing me. “You good with this?”

“I’m ecstatic about this,” I reply.

“Then I have the queen’s approval to send this off?” Savage asks.

Considering our talk about royalty, Jax and I immediately look at each other and laugh, the undercurrent of him as king and me as queen creates a sexy pull between us that is downright drugging. “Yes,” I say, nodding at Savage. “You have the queen’s approval.”

He glances between us. “Obviously this is some dirty, perfect joke I’m left the fuck out of which sucks. I’ll go now.” And he does. He turns and walks out of the kitchen which only leaves us laughing again.

“Let’s go to my office before we leave, my dirty, perfect queen,” Jax says, wrapping his arm around me and kissing me. “I want to make these calls and grab some paperwork.”

“Yes, my dirty perfect king.”

He grins and says, “You know it, baby.”

We exit through his tower door inside the castle and make our way to the business offices where we avoid Jill, by Jax’s preference. “If you want to avoid her all the time, how does that work, Jax? You’re running the company together. Don’t you need to find peace with her?”

He wraps his arm around me and leads me up a set of stairs. “Yes.”

I cut him a sideways look. “Yes? That’s all?”

“You’re right but I can’t seem to get there.”

“Why?”

“The fucking red dress.”

“What?” I ask. “What red dress?”

“The one my brother hated because it reminded him of the last dress my mother wore. She wears the damn thing often. She calls it her mourning dress. It reminds her of loved ones lost or some shit like that. It doesn’t sit right.”

“That’s odd,” I say. “Especially if he hated it.” We reach the top of the stairs. “Did she inherit a lot of money?”

“No. My brother never got around to revising his will which says to me that he didn’t plan to die or he didn’t want her to inherit. I gave her some money.”

We stop at a giant arched doorway. “And you still don’t get along?”

“She tries,” he says, opening the door. “Or seems to try. Fuck, I don’t know.” He motions me forward and I step inside to find a stunning corner office with a library to the right and a floor to ceiling window to the left. His desk is in the center of the room.

“This was my father’s office,” Jax says. “Hunter never moved in here.” He rounds the huge mahogany desk and faces me.

“But you did?” I say, asking a question rather than stating the obvious. He looks good in this office, behind that desk. Powerful, in control, in the place he belongs. I wonder if Hunter belonged. It’s a crazy thought. Of course, he belonged.