Conquer Your Love(Surrender Your Love 02)

Chapter 10





A BOAT WAS actually an understatement. What Jett called a boat looked more like a seventy-foot yacht with four luxury cabins consisting of an en-suite forward VIP cabin, a twin bunk cabin to port, a twin bunk cabin to starboard, and a full mid-ship master cabin with yet another bathroom—or so Jett explained. Not that I understood half the things he said, but I tried my best to keep up with his excited chatter as I let him show me around.

Upon entering the living room, the part boaters called a saloon, we walked through a spacious starboard side galley with ample space to relax, a polished mahogany dining table, and a kitchen almost twice the size of my kitchen back in New York. It had a granite countertop, fitted dishwasher, ceramic hob, refrigerator, microwave, and oven—like you’d ever need that on a boat.

It was my first time on this kind of ‘boat’ and walking through each of the cabins, I had a hard time not to gawk at the expensive furniture and overindulgent design focusing on shades of cream and brown. Eventually we stopped in the saloon and Jett invited me to sit down on the creamy luxury couch. Set up on the opposite wall was a huge plasma TV set and a stereo system right out of a catalog. I tried hard not to look too impressed. Truth was, Jett’s boat had everything anyone could ever wish for: lots of space, privacy, and more things than the apartment I shared with Sylvie back in Brooklyn.

“Wow. You could actually live here,” I said, running my fingertips over the smooth mahogany surface of a side table.

“I did about four years ago.”

I felt his hand on my neck and then he pulled my hair back and his hot lips were on my skin. His butterfly kisses sent delicious jolts through me, making me shiver with both pleasure and a hint of pain that traveled somewhere south.

“I wanted to be alone with my thoughts,” Jett whispered. “This was the perfect place for it. Once you’re out here, far away from the oppressing boundaries of life and work, you can almost smell the freedom in the air. It’s like a completely different world.”

I blinked back my surprise. “The boat’s yours?” I don’t know why I was so surprised, when he had enough money to buy anything he wanted.

“Yeah, I bought it after finalizing my first big work project. It was much better than living in a house with my brother and father.” He turned me toward him. His expression showed the same enthusiasm as before, but a shadow had descended over his mood, which made me conclude living with his family hadn’t been a piece of cake.

“Why a boat?” I found myself asking, compelled by this man and the prospect of him finally opening up to me.

Jett shrugged. “Why not a boat? You wake up with the sun on your face, the air smelling of water and salt, and the wind blowing through your hair. There’s no door. No bell to ring. You can just pack your bags and leave, and no one knows where you are.”

He wanted to run. Like I had run many years ago. From my past. From the pain that wouldn’t stop haunting me every second of the day. I wanted to ask what he was running from. Yet I didn’t because I wanted him to open up to me out of need rather than obligation.

I looked up and found Jett still watching me, scrutinizing me, his dark eyes more clouded than before. He was so careful not to disclose anything about his past that he ended up showing everything in his expression. Usually, he was inscrutable. For a moment I could see he wasn’t as closed a book as he always pretended to be, which was good because it showed me his arrogant and perfect fa?ade was nothing but a disguise to protect what lay buried within his soul.

I moistened my lips and walked to the painting hanging on the wall behind him. It was just a picture of his boat with large capital letters spelling THE ROCK beneath it.

“The Rock?” I read, grimacing. “Is that your boat’s name? I hope I’m not supposed to take it literally.”

He laughed, gorgeous dimples forming in his cheeks. “Yeah. But don’t worry. It’d take a lot to sink it. It’s as solid as a rock, which is why it got its name.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Aren’t ships usually named after former conquests?”

“You’re right.” He paused and nodded, faking deep thought. “What if I told you there were no former conquests? No one who ever mattered?”

My heart slammed against the confined space of my ribcage.

Hard to believe.

And yet something in the way he regarded me—calm and serious—made me want to believe every single word.

“I might actually rename her,” Jett continued. “I was thinking ‘Brooke.’ It has a much nicer ring to it than ‘The Rock.”

“Seriously?” I laughed nervously as I watched him move closer, stopping just a few inches away from me.

“Why would I joke about it?”

He was damn serious. I could tell from the way he stared me down with a determined glint in his eyes. My breath caught in my throat. Not because of the way he looked at me—with an intense magnetism that made me want to give him everything I had—nor because he was considering renaming his boat after me. I could barely breathe because I realized nothing had changed. He behaved as if we were still together, as if we never broke up.

As if he meant the last words he’d spoken to me the last time I saw him in New York: I care for you enough to let you go.

Technically, he did let me go —then followed me. So did he care for me? And if he did, was it a good thing? Should I welcome it, let my own feelings develop and see where that might take me?

“It might be a bit too early for renaming a boat after me,” I said slowly.

He turned away, hiding his expression. For a moment, I regretted my words—until I realized I was doing the right thing. Keeping each other at arm’s length. Not too involved.

“What happens when you’re not here? Who takes care of ‘The Rock’?” Acutely aware of the sudden tension emanating from him, I tried to steer the focus away from me.

Jett pointed at the door, ignoring my question and previous statement. “Look, can you wait here while I remove the anchor? I’ll be back in a minute.”

He was going to remove the anchor? Like in, sail away with me onboard?

Holy dang!

I was in big trouble.

Being alone with him on a luxury boat surrounded by sparkling blue water and no living soul in sight was the last thing I wanted, and yet I found myself smiling and saying, “Sure. Take your time.”

What the heck, Stewart?

“Great,” Jett said, his eyes betraying his amusement. “I’ll grab us a drink on the way back.”

He made it all sound so nonchalant, like he was going to get us coffee from the corner café. I knew that blasé tone of his and what it usually preceded. Don’t ever trust a guy with a Southern accent, a lazy smile, and a casual stance, because he’s about to sneak his way into your panties without even trying.

Pissed with myself that I didn’t even think about protesting, I began to look around as I waited for him. The doors were open, and from my seat on the sofa I could peer right into the master cabin. The first thing I noticed was the king-sized bed and the small round rug on the polished oak floor. The sheets were the color of creamy chocolate, smooth and shiny like silk. The picture of me sitting down on the soft bed entered my head. I could see myself surrounded by all those pillows and imagined Jett’s rough hands on my skin, his possessive tongue inside my mouth as we kissed and made love on the silk sheets, my hands tugging at his hair as he moved inside me. My stomach knotted deliciously as a pang of heat shot through me and gathered between my legs. Good thing I shaved my legs and put on my nicest lingerie.

I groaned with irritation.

Why was I even thinking of that? It wasn’t like I wanted to sleep with him. That wasn’t why I came here at all. I was so immersed in my thoughts that I didn’t hear Jett coming in.

“You said you’ve sworn off alcohol, so I brought us iced coffee instead.” He placed a long drink glass with a creamy brownish liquid and a straw in front of me as he held on to his.

I looked up, startled. My face caught fire, partly because I was ashamed of my thoughts, and partly because I knew he knew. It was pretty obvious from the amused glint in his eyes and the way he moistened his lips, flicking the tip of his tongue over them lazily, suggesting all sorts of naughty things. He was torturing me without so much as touching my body.

“I want to show you the lake,” Jett said, “since you might want to live here when you inherit the estate.” He held out his hand and I interlaced my fingers with his. His skin felt warm. Climbing up the stairs, I felt his gaze on my ass and couldn’t help but sway my hips just a little bit more than usual because I wanted to have the same effect on him as he had on me.

We walked up to the deck where we lingered for a few moments, enjoying the stunning view.

“This is where I spend most of my time when I’m here,” Jett said.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, realizing my words couldn’t do it justice. Decorated with brown wicker outdoor furniture consisting of one love seat with creamy white cushions and a long coffee table plus a side table, it held enough space to accommodate a whole family. There were three sunbathing areas forward, aft and alongside the steering console of the cockpit.

“Let’s get this baby going,” Jett said. Through the glass partition, I watched him step into the cockpit and then behind the steering console. His long fingers wrapped around the helm as he expertly pushed a few buttons—and there were plenty of those. Everything looked so complicated, and yet Jett seemed as though he had done nothing else his whole life. Obviously he knew what he was doing, which relaxed me.

An instant later the boat came to life and we left the dock, slowly at first, then faster. I slumped onto a lounge chair and peered at the clear blue water around us as we moved farther from the shore and from the people walking up and down the promenade.

Being out here with the waves crashing around the boat and the wind blowing through my hair, I felt a sense of tranquility and happiness. For the first time in my life, I felt alive…and safe. As if the wind and the water could wash away the pain and the disappointments of the past ten years. As if I could leave my past behind and sail into a new future. And the fact that Jett was standing just a few feet away made the whole experience even more profound.

Boats passed as by periodically, and the shore became nothing but a narrow strip of brown in the distance. And then even that disappeared, and my mind drifted off to memories of his deep voice and sinfully sexy eyes.



***



‘The Rock’ slowed down—I could feel the gentle vibrations of the engine. Realizing I must have fallen asleep, I opened my eyes and squinted against the sunlight as I tried to adjust to the glaring brightness. We were far out on the lake, with no people in sight. Surrounded by mountain views, the spot looked quiet and secluded, far away from civilization. The engine whirred and then all became quiet and the boat was floating idly in the water.

Realizing it was just Jett and me now—on water, alone—I sat up and looked at the partition. He wasn’t there. A moment later, I felt his presence behind me. I turned and smiled and he rewarded me with a lazy grin.

“Had a good nap?”

“How do you know?”

He leaned forward and brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Because I know what you look like when you wake up. You have a sexy, carefree look about you, like you’ve been to a different place.”

I felt my cheeks catch fire. “Sexy, huh? I like that. I always thought I looked grumpy. Sexy definitely sounds way better.”

“Even your grumpy looks are sexy.” He reached out to help me up and turned me around, wrapping his arms around me so my back was pressed against his front. I snuggled against his chest and craned my neck to accommodate his exploring lips on my earlobe. My skin felt warm—hot even—and not just from the sun.

“How long have you been driving a boat?” I asked to distract myself from the sudden tension in the air.

“I took my first course six years ago, but my father taught me the basics as a child.”

“That’s nice,” I said, leaning into him so he wouldn’t stop his nibbling. “You sure know what you’re doing.”

“You mean the boat, or this?” His teeth grazed my skin just a little bit harder than was necessary, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through me. His caress made it hard for me to keep my composure, so I pulled away and stepped aside to put some much-needed distance between us.

“Come on. Let’s go inside.” He grinned and held out his hand. I eyed it carefully, not quite trusting that he wouldn’t just grab me in his arms and do whatever he had been about to do. “I won’t bite—unless you want me to,” Jett said.

“Why? What’s inside?”

“Iced Tea? Water? You must be dehydrated.” And I was. But I still didn’t trust the dangerous glint in his eyes. “Besides, it’s cooler inside.”

“No funny business.” I said.

“You know me.”

Hell yeah, I did. “Which is exactly why I don’t trust you when we’re alone.” He smiled that panty-dropping smile of his that always made me want to rip the clothes off his glorious body and wrap myself around him. Was there pride in his eyes? I groaned, irritated with myself for inflating his over-inflated ego some more. “I didn’t mean it like a compliment. It’s not like you’re a sex god or anything.”

“Why thanks, baby. I’d love to prove my worth.”

Oh gosh. Why couldn’t I just keep my big mouth shut?

A lazy grin lit up his face and my brain switched off for a second. Annoyed, I rolled my eyes and took off across the deck and down the stairs to the master saloon, confident that he’d follow behind.

I sat down on the couch and watched him pour us two glasses of bottled water from the fridge.

“Thanks,” I said as he passed me a glass and sat down opposite from me. I took a few sips and placed the glass in front of me on the table, all too aware of his intense gaze.

Through the windows I could see the sparkling water, and the soft movement eased my tension, but not enough to make me feel less nervous around him.

“I don’t know anyone who owns a boat, let alone can navigate one,” I admitted. “I think it’s pretty amazing. Is there anything else you’ve been keeping from me?”

He inclined his head. “I’m not particularly good at flying. My brother’s way better than me, which annoyed my father to no end. They’re both highly competitive, challenging me to beat them at whatever it was that caught their attention. But it was always the not particularly risky stuff. You know, flying, gambling, hunting, sky diving… you name it. I was more interested in other stuff.”

I laughed. Was he serious? I wanted to point out that all of the things he mentioned were risky, but I decided to dive into that later. “What other stuff?” I asked instead.

He leaned so close I could see the tiny lines beneath his eyes and feel the delicious warmth of his breath. His piercing gaze met mine. “For some time I had the crazy idea to work undercover.” I raised my brows in confusion and his grin widened. “You know…head hunt people. I took martial arts classes, trained in all the James Bond stuff you see on TV. I joined a gang. It was my way to handle anger.” He waved his hand like it didn’t matter. I almost choked on my breath.

“Wait a sec. Rewind a bit. Did you say ‘gang’?”

He grimaced. “Sort of. Though not the drug dealing type you probably have in mind. Everyone said I had problems with authority, which I guess was true. I didn’t listen to anyone. Not my father, not my teachers. No one.”

“And by head hunting I assume you’re not talking about sifting through prospective candidates to fill a job opening.”

He shook his head, still grinning.

“Wow.” I stared at him, open-mouthed. It was difficult to imagine Jett—the refined CEO of one of the largest and most successful real estate companies in the world—doing something dangerous, and yet I was inclined to believe him. He had struck me as the bad boy type all right when I first met him, and I was thrilled to see my people knowledge didn’t suck as much as I always thought.

“It’s in the past now, but I can’t say I’m proud of some of the experiences I made.” He ran his fingertips over my lower arm absentmindedly. His gaze was averted so I couldn’t read his expression, but I didn’t fail to catch the strained undertones in his voice. He was hiding something. I couldn’t pinpoint what drove me to that conclusion, but I knew I was right.

“Well, we all make mistakes. It’s part of humanity,” I said.

The way he bit his lower lip, hesitating, I could tell he didn’t want to disclose more, which was a shame because I loved hearing about his life. It made me feel connected to him. Maybe he didn’t trust me enough to share everything with me. Maybe by pressing the issue, I’d be asking for too much too soon when every single women’s magazine tells you to take things slowly. Obviously, I didn’t want to be the pushy kind—the one who had to know everything and ended up asking stupid questions like ‘what are you thinking’ or ‘how do you feel about us?’ I knew enough people who made that sort of mistake, and I honestly wanted to learn from their failures. He’d confide in me, eventually. Unfortunately, I had already told him one of my biggest secrets. So there was no way in hell I’d let him get away with not telling me one of his own. It was only fair he open up so we were even.

“What made you give it up?” I asked.

A few moments passed and he didn’t answer. I thought he might be pissed that I took the liberty to insist on a topic he obviously wasn’t comfortable talking about. And then he turned to look at me, and I flinched inwardly at the pain reflected in his expression. His eyes were deep like the ocean and filled with darkness.

I knew this was the moment he’d either share it all, or pull away from me.

“I got involved with the wrong crowd and ended up doing some very stupid things for them,” Jett said. “I had to learn the hard way…it was either jail or let my father buy me out of the mess. I have changed since—” He trailed off, leaving the rest open to interpretation.

The energy he exuded made it clear something bad had happened. The image of him hiding, destroying, fighting, popped into my head and other feelings rushed through me—excitement, fear, arousal—at the knowledge he used to be someone else. Or maybe he wasn’t so different now; he just hid it well. Either way, I realized my opinion of him hadn’t shifted.

“I wish I could tell you more, but there’s no sense in telling you something that I can’t change. Something I can’t explain to myself,” Jett murmured. “We all have secrets. Mine may be worse than I care admit, but I don’t want you to think less of me by telling you what happened, because my past’s nothing but baggage resulting from bad choices and foolish mistakes. What happened can’t be undone. I’m lucky enough to be alive and that’s all that counts. Maybe one day, when I’m confident that nothing can scare you off, I’ll tell you more.”

It hurt that he thought whatever he did would make me run for the hills, and yet I understood where he was coming from. Secrets aren’t easily revealed when you have so much to lose.

“Whatever you did is in the past.” My hand gripped his, giving it a light and reassuring squeeze, signaling I wasn’t one to judge, just like he hadn’t judged me when I disclosed my past. “It’s human nature to make mistakes.”

He caught my glance and something passed between us. A mutual understanding that not knowing everything was better for me. For us. For whatever there might be between us in the future.

I was okay not knowing.

“I’ve been there and I understand.” I forced a soft smile on my lips.

“Thank you.” His gaze passed through me like a current, piercing into my very core, and his thumb began to stroke my fingers. My skin tingled: strong, noticeable, but invisible. For the umpteenth time I wondered whether he could feel our connection. Two opposites drawn together like magnets. As much as I had pushed him away, hating him for the pain he caused me, I couldn’t deny the fact that he was a part of me now. Wherever I went, he would be there, buried deep within my heart. Never letting him go.

“For what?” My voice was husky. “I haven’t done anything.”

“For trusting me.” He cupped my face and forced me to meet his heated gaze. His thumb caressed my lips, his touch as soft as melted chocolate.

Kiss me.

My eyes implored him, following my heart’s command.

“Sorry, I forgot my manners. Are you hungry?” Breaking our special moment, he let go of me and headed for the kitchen. My gaze followed him.

Damn him and his ability to seem so unaffected!

I cleared my voice. “Actually, I’m starving. Can I help in some way?” I walked over, unsure whether to feel happy or disappointed that we were back on easy-going, superficial terrain.

He opened a small cupboard and retrieved two plates. “I’ve already ordered.”

“What are we having?” Standing on my toes, I craned my neck to peek over his shoulder and noticed the large silver tray on the counter. He switched off a little red button on the buffet server and removed the lid. The smell of roasted meat and vegetables hit my nostrils.

“You’re not allergic to walnuts, are you? The filling might have some in it.” He started to pile food on the plates, adding meat, pasta with arugula, white beans, and roasted shallots.

“Not that I know of. And even if I were, I’d take a risk just to taste a bite of this stuff. It smells delicious.”

He sprinkled chopped chives on the plates and grinned. “It tastes better than it looks.”

I remembered the few times he cooked for me. The food hadn’t just looked good and tasted even better, it had been unforgettable. “Even better than your cooking?” I said. “Why, I’m one lucky girl.”

“Wait, what was that?” He eased closer.

“What?” I took a few steps back until my back pressed against something hard.

“That look you just had.” His index finger trailed down my cheek. “Was that sarcasm? Are you implying my cooking was bad?” His pretend frown barely managed to hide a lazy grin, and the glint in his eyes showed me he was joking. I sensed the direction of our conversation had changed. He was digging deeper, searching for the answer to a question only he knew; playing a game.

I bit my lip as I contemplated my options. I could pretend I didn’t like it and risk hurting him, because it was most certainly not the answer he expected. Or I could play along. Hell, I was more than up for a little game.

And then what, Stewart? Open up to him so you end up hurt—all over again?

Taking a sharp breath, I met his beautiful eyes. In front of me he looked huge, dominating. But there was a fragility to him that made me realize he wasn’t as intimidating as I previously thought.

“Maybe.” I tilted my head, giving him full access to my exposed neck. His fingers trailed down my arms and rested on my hips. I swallowed hard and ignored the shiver his touch sent through my body. He wanted me. He wanted me bad. Right here, right now. I could see it in the way his eyes consumed me. And I wanted him, too. Badly.

Why not just give in?

Only once.

“Well, Miss Stewart, if you didn’t like my last attempt at cooking, you sure as hell will have to endure my next one.” His eyes turned a darker shade of green. The air charged with sexual tension, sending yet another electric jolt through my lower body.

Holy cow.

He was going for it. And my resolve was slowly waning.

Reacting on instinct, I dashed past him, heading for the deck but he was quicker. He scooped me up and carried me over his shoulder to the couch.

“Stop it.” Laughing, I tried rather feebly to free myself. “Your attack is absolutely not welcome.”

“Attack, huh?” He put me down on the couch, then shifted between my legs until he was lying on top of me and my hands were pinned above my head. His lips searched mine, barely touching me. Lingering. Teasing. So very close and yet too far.

“Say it.” His tone came low but I registered the command in it.

“What?”

“That you like my cooking.” His beautiful lips twitched with the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Uh…it’s awfully—” I paused, letting him stew just a little bit longer “—good. I like it a lot.”

“Say it again. I think I might have misheard.” His smile was smug, his eyes shimmering with a glint of mischief.

“It’s delicious. The best I’ve ever had.” I wasn’t talking just about cooking, and he knew it.

“Really? The best you’ve ever had?” His tongue flicked over his lips, leaving a tempting wet trail behind.

I nodded, unable to erase the stupid grin off my face.

“Then I’ll let you off the hook…for now, Ms. Stewart.” He shifted on top of me and tightened the grip around my wrists as his lips inched closer to mine. A moment of anticipation passed between us—a silent promise that didn’t need words to convey its meaning. He regarded me with so much warmth and passion, I didn’t need to delve deep into his heart to know what he was feeling.

I had never been so happy in my life, and in that instant I realized that even if I wanted to and the opportunity presented itself—I could never hurt him.

Love is when you’d rather be hurt than hurt the one you love.

Jett’s lips brushed mine tenderly, making my stomach flutter as my eyes drank in the dark sea of his irises. “I hope you don’t expect good manners because I’m starving,” he whispered in that sexy tone of his that made it sound like he wasn’t talking about the food.

Stop hearing double meanings in his words, Stewart!

“Food sounds great.”

I let him help me up and sat down at the table, watching him bring our plates. He seemed slightly changed. As though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Tucking into my lunch, I smiled up at him. Seeing him happy made me happy, and that was all that mattered.