“After I told him that I’d rather be celibate than sleep with him ever again. I think you’re rubbing off on me.” Her voice trembled slightly. Had she been crying?
So why the tears? Unless they were tears of joy, in which case I made a mental note to drag Sylvie to the nearest bar for a round of celebratory drinks the moment I arrived back home.
“That’s about when he said he was only looking for a quick fuck and didn’t mean a word he said. And then he dumped me, for good,” Sylvie said.
Ouch. “The bastard.” For once he seemed to have told the truth. Probably the only truth any woman would ever get from him. Okay, Sylvie was an easy lay, but did he have to be so hurtfully candid about it? You don’t screw with a woman, her mind or otherwise, and then admit you were only using her just when she was about to develop a morsel of self-respect by backing out of your one-way, self-beneficial deal.
“It’s okay. I’m over him,” Sylvie said, sniffing. She wasn’t. “He’s already off my mind.” He wasn’t.
“You’re beautiful, clever, young, everything he’ll never be.” I talked slowly and paused for effect so she’d understand just how much I meant each and every word. “Sylvie, you’re amazing and deserve someone as amazing as you. Don’t settle for less.”
“You think so?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I do, from the bottom of my heart.” Her huge smile almost shined down the phone line. “Now go to bed. I bet you’re three sheets to the wind.”
“I’m what?” She laughed, ignoring my jab at her drunken state. “How’s that job working out for you?”
“Good.” I had completely forgotten that I was at work and not supposed to have personal conversations. I rolled in my swivel chair to peer at the door, almost expecting Jett to be standing there, eyeing me with a frown and demanding that I peel off my suit so he could spank my backside for taking the liberty to go against my work contract. The naughty thought sent an instant smile to my face. I had never been into spanking, but it sort of sounded hot—imagining him doing the deed. I opened my mouth to tell Sylvie all about the Italian countryside, but she’d already lost interest.
“Did you find out who sent the letter?” she asked.
Frowning, I tried to remember what the hell she was talking about. And then it dawned on me. The letter on the coffee table.
Freaking hell, it completely slipped my mind.
“Just open it.”
“Don’t think so,” Sylvie said slowly. “It looks suspicious. It could be a bomb or something, and I still need my hands.”
Sweetie, if it was a bomb, your hands would be the last thing to worry about.
“Okay…I’ll check it out when I get back home, then.”
We talked for another minute or two, mostly about her being bored to death without me. She emphasized how much she missed her best drinking buddy, by which she couldn’t possibly mean me. I hardly ever managed to have more than a margarita before I was ready to hit the bed…facedown, while Sylvie partied the night away.
And then we said our goodbyes and I hung up, feeling strangely out of place in this huge-yet-beautiful house with this strange-yet-gorgeous guy. While Sylvie’s stories didn’t usually get to me, the Ryan episode somehow touched me because I knew Sylvie had fallen for him hard. I could never allow myself to feel the same way for Jett.
I finished my water, and then got another cup of coffee before heading for Jett’s private office.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Lucazzone estate started from just beyond Jett’s huge property. I couldn’t help but think that even though Jett had the most stunning scenery I had ever seen, he didn’t buy his holiday home because of its view. I figured being close to the old man to follow his every move might just be the reason why he vacationed here in the first place. It was the way the big league played. They watched their market and competitors but, most importantly, they kept a hawk eye on the properties they wanted until the owners were ready to sell, and they all were eventually.
Sitting in the passenger seat of his Ferrari with the roof down and a warm breeze caressing my skin, I bit my lip hard so I wouldn’t ask the question that burned a hole in my brain. Jett’s motives weren’t really my business, and yet I had to know. It was two days since we signed the contract and Jett hadn’t made any sort of attempt to touch me. He continued to remain a mystery. I figured finding out why he bought his mansion might reveal more about his personality.
“When did you buy your house?” Moistening my lips, I focused my gaze onto the winding road so he wouldn’t pick up on just how much I hoped to find out more about the real man behind his cool fa?ade.
“A while back.”
A vague answer, of course. I expected nothing less from him. Why did he have to be so equivocal about everything?