One Woman (Naked Trilogy 2)

We spend the afternoon working in the kitchen and we break to explore the rest of the house, which is perfection that includes a media room, a library, several spare bedrooms, and two offices; one Jax declares as mine and one that is his. For the evening whiskey sampling that I assume to be informal, it’s anything but. The tradition is that a few large clients are invited to the exclusive event which means we dress up. Thankfully, I brought two dresses.

It’s seven with a full moon high in the sky, when we enter the castle, Jax in a gray suit with an emerald tie, and me in a matching emerald dress—his suggestion not mine, and I know why. I know that he’s making a statement: she’s with me. We are one. I feel that the minute Jill greets us in the foyer, her eyes raking over our matching colors, her cold smile directed my way. Either she believes I was a part of Hunter’s assumed murder, or she’s territorial. She was to be queen and now, perhaps, she feels I’m the future, and she’s the past. It’s a thought that draws my sympathy and stirs tolerance in me. I know what it’s like to be the runner up with my family. It’s unpleasant.

Soon Jax and I are entering a large room with a high ceiling, massive stone pillars, with not one, but two long stone tables illuminated by flickering lights. There are a good twenty people present and as Jax and I claim seats, all twenty have eyes on us.

“Are these people all clients?” I ask as he catches my hand under the table.

“The mayor is the bald man with the beard. The redhead across from him is his secretary and mistress. The brunette next to him is his wife.”

I choke on a bite of cheese. “You’re joking.”

He laughs. “Actually, I am. The redhead is a city council member that hates his guts.”

I laugh now, too, and a tall thin man in an impeccable suit joins us, sitting across from Jax. “Emma, this is Neal Mink. He owns the—”

“Mink restaurant chain,” I supply, recognizing the major high-end hotspot name. “One of my dining locations.”

“Do tell me your favorite choice there, Emma.”

Jax rolls his eyes. “He tests people. Say the steak. He can’t ever argue with the steak.”

“The green chili mac n cheese,” I say. “I’m quite the mac n cheese connoisseur, too,” I add. “I’m a tough audience.”

“My mother’s recipe,” he says, eying Jax. “Keep her. You need her.”

“I’ll keep her if she lets me,” Jax says lifting my hand and kissing it. “But something tells me I’m going to have to earn it.” He leans into my ear and whispers. “One lick at a time, right, baby?”

My cheeks heat right along with all my delicate girl parts, while Neal quickly turns to business. “You’ll have to earn me, too, Jax. Let’s talk about that investment I had go wrong.”

“Let’s talk about all the investments I helped you get right,” Jax counters, never missing a beat.

Soon we’re served flights of whiskey and the first few are easy on the palate. Jax walks the tables to check on everyone and I chat with a woman named Linda, who tells me her company name, but I forget it quickly. It seems the smooth whiskey is dangerous. It’s gone to my head. So has Jax. The man is gorgeous and he might be across the room, but his eyes radiate to me and often.

Jax settles next to me again just in time for a new flight. I test the first and it’s tart enough that I make a face. Jax laughs and leans in to whisper, “If you going to love me, baby, you need to learn to love the whiskey.”

Shocked, my gaze jerks to his, and the heat in his stare is positively smoldering. “Jax,” I whisper, because thanks to the whiskey and the drugging effect of this man, I have no other words that form.

His eyes twinkle with mischief and when someone calls his name, he leans in and kisses me. He tries to turn away and I catch his sleeve. “I do love the whiskey, Jax North. And I also have to pee. Where might I find a bathroom?”

“I’ll take you.”

“You attend to your guests. I can pee on my own.”

“Is that right?”

“You want me to live here and I can’t even go to the bathroom on my own?”

“I do want you to live here, Emma Knight.” He stands up and holds out my chair. “First right. Second right. Door.”

I repeat that. “First right. Second right. Door. Got it.”

“Hurry back, baby.”

Based on the look in his eyes—all simmering heat and fire—I will. I walk through the room, the romance of the candle guiding my path, my feet only slightly unsettled on the stone floor. I follow the directions. I turn right. I am about to turn right again when I run smack into a hard body. I gasp and look up to find the blue-eyed man staring down at me only this time that’s not where this ends.