94
At the hotel, he dumped me graciously in my room and ordered me to lie down. He then left me to stare at the quiet TV to ‘recuperate.’ There’s now a tray of half-eaten food by my bed, and he has a doctor coming despite my protests.
He’s being distant; as soon as I was settled, he pulled his cell out and stalked off, closing himself in his room. I know he’s calling her, and despite his manner with her earlier, it still makes my heart constrict painfully. I hate the fact he’s calling her. I don’t know why, but from the moment I met her, I had this weird, gutsy clue that I didn’t like her at all. Far more potently than any of his other bimbos, I can’t explain it. Some female thing going off inside me makes me hate her more than the others.
On top of that, I hate that he’s calling a woman; I cannot control my jealous pain, which sucks most of all.
***
He’s back thirty minutes later as the doctor is coiling up her stethoscope after examining me.
“What’s the verdict?” He sounds concerned, well, maybe. Bossy mainly.
“She’s fine, Mr. Carrero. A little rest, and she’ll make a full recovery,” the doctor answers, beaming at him confidently. Her lithe figure is enveloped in a fitted gray suit, and she has a lovely face. I like this doctor; she has gentle hands and a straightforward manner that makes me relax under her care. She also seems immune to Jake’s charms. I’m glad because she’s hot for a doctor and definitely someone I could see him bedding.
“Why did she pass out then?” He doesn’t seem convinced and doesn’t notice how attractive she is either, his eyes on me, frowning. None of his schmoozing charm is evident.
“Miss Anderson informed me she’d skipped meals and was overheated; I’m guessing she wasn’t drinking enough fluids either, and she became a little overwhelmed. We need to take care of our bodies. She needs to acclimatize to Vegas weather, I think.” She throws me a broad smile, and I return it.
How could you not? She’s lovely.
He’s frowning with his arms crossed, scrutinizing me closely. He doesn’t look convinced, and I know he’s inwardly cursing me about how many times he’s told me I need to drink more water too. The man should have shares in Evian, with the amount he goes through daily.
“She’s going to get enough rest; she’s hotel bound until tomorrow when we fly home,” he points out rudely. The doctor smiles and nods. She approves.
What? This is news! Since when?
We’re due to stay here for a week. I keep quiet as he shows the doctor out, then slide out of bed and march through to the living room purposefully to find him, to confront him.
“What do you mean we’re flying home?” I accuse angrily as soon as she departs.
“Tomorrow morning. It’s already arranged.” He has an air of irritation, his green eyes simmering with a warning, but I ignore it. “Why? Because I fainted? We have stuff to do here, Jake,” I fume at him in sheer agitation, throwing my hands around and gesturing like mad.
“Yes. No, partly because of that and because of shit I need to deal with, okay?” I pale as I take in his agitated tone and manner. He doesn’t need to spell it out; I know him well enough to know ‘shit’ means Marissa!
“You’re going to blow off this week’s schedules?” I snap with a deadpan expression, hating that he dumps work for a fucking woman! This is not how he usually operates; this is a crappy way to run an empire if you ask me.
“Sometimes life does get in the way of work, Emma,” he says sarcastically, glaring at me and cementing my suspicions.
Actually, now that I think about it, this is precisely what he does. He takes off for personal time, vacations, or blows off work for a week to go off and sulk. Abandoning everything!
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap at him furiously.
Why am I so goddamn angry with him? I should be ecstatic. I hate Vegas, and I want to go home. I should be dancing my joyful dance at getting out of this place early. But I’m just pissed!
“It means what it means.” He stalks off away from me, and it only makes me angrier, igniting my temper.
Oh, so we’re fighting again? What happened to the happy-go-lucky PA and hot boss? When we used to flirt more than we fought?
I liked them. I wish they would come back and replace the constant arguments and anger between us lately, the continuous sizzling tension and instant flare-ups of bad moods and hurt feelings.
What the hell happened to us?
“You think I’m all about my work, and I don’t, what … let life ever interfere?” I snap accusingly.
“Take from it whatever you will,” he says, being cryptic as usual. He’s pouring himself a drink, a strong one. For no reason whatsoever, this action makes me more furious with him, his chilling and kicking back with booze whenever things get serious.
Screw him.
“I know how to have a life. I choose to work more than I fuck about with sex and parties.” I know that isn’t fair; he works harder than he plays, more than most in his business. I’ve seen it; that’s why I’m always by his side and flying across continents. I’m being a bitch for the sake of being a bitch.
“Do you, Emma? I’m pretty sure that stick up your ass is well and truly lodged,” he growls at me, and I blanche.
What the hell? Why is this ‘attack Emma time’ suddenly, and how did we get so goddamn mad at one another over nothing?
We’re literally yelling at each other, tension crackling in the air as the atmosphere thickens. This constant, goddamn, weird, uptight pressure is always around us now.
“What the actual fuck? You chose me as your PA because of how I work. Now what? You’re saying I’m too what … anal? You want a party buddy instead?” I yell at him, my body tense as I wave my hands around in frustration, matching glares of steel on both our faces.
“I want a fucking normal assistant! One who doesn’t fucking make me feel like I want to beat the shit out of her one minute and screw her the next! This sexual tension between us, all the fucking time, is absolutely killing me!” he spits cruelly, looking me dead in the eye angrily, and it completely floors me.
Wow.
I’m frozen.
I mean what? That’s what this is?
I gawk at him, wide-eyed and speechless, mouth slightly open with surprise as his words sink in.
“Fuck this shit!” he snaps and throws his glass at the sink rather dramatically. It smashes across the tiles sending shards everywhere, making me jump; his hostility reverberates around the room, and silence hits hard. Without another word, he stalks toward me, looking dark and crazy, sending a shiver of fear down my spine, immobilizing me for a second, before sense has me backing up until I bump into a hard surface.
I’ve no clue what he’s doing.
Jake comes right at me as I attempt to flee sideways; he pushes me hard against the wall behind me and crushes his mouth to mine like our lives depend on it. His lips ram against mine with such force it takes my breath away, and I’m too stunned to stop him. My brain is still back in the middle of the room, floundering at his statement, and hasn’t yet caught up.
I take a minute to pull in my breath. I respond in a way that shocks me to the core, some primal inner me taking advantage of the few seconds of shock. I latch onto his kiss purposefully, opening my lips to have his tongue and mine entwining. A groan comes from deep inside me, hot and wanton. Nothing about this is right, but I can’t stop it; I’ve never known this surge coursing through my body, consuming me. I wrap myself around him, his hands in my hair and mine around his neck. He’s kissing me with passion and pent-up frustration from weeks of weird vibes between us, making love to me with his mouth while his hands run over me and pin me to him forcefully, our bodies pulsing in unison.
This sudden overpowering need to have every inch of him joined with mine overtakes all sense and reason. A release from anger, fighting, and heartbreak bursts over me like a dam overflowing. The urge to let him devour me and take all the tension away overwhelms me. He lifts me against the wall and pulls me hard into him, my legs moving automatically around his waist, my skirt riding up, exposing my thighs.
The strength emanating from him only pushes me further into this feeling of raging desire. I want this. I need this. I stop that little inner voice of fear and panic trying to wheedle in, and I push her down harshly with an icy shove.
No! You won’t stop it this time.
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