“Jewell, this is Monica,” Blake said. “Monica, Jewell, my date this evening.”
Monica stuck out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jewell.”
Jewell had no choice but to shake the woman’s hand — if she didn’t, she’d look completely rude. So she gave the obligatory handshake, then moved back as quickly as possible.
Blake led the two women to a corner table and held out both of their chairs before seating himself between them. Though Jewell made her face a mask of unconcern, the longer she sat there with Blake and Monica, the more irate she became.
How dare he drag her down to this worthless event only to ignore her? How dare he flaunt another woman in her face? Okay, it wasn’t as if she owned him. She knew she didn’t. They weren’t in a relationship at all. But still, it was just plain rude.
After they finished dinner, when Blake asked Jewell for a dance, she was less than enthusiastic, but she had to admit feeling just the slightest bit of satisfaction that he was asking her and not Monica first. Though she was sure he would trade them off quickly.
She was stiff in his arms when he tried to pull her close, and he looked down at her with puzzlement in his face. “Are you not having a nice night? I know these events can be slightly dry, but the music is good, and the food was better than most. This isn’t the rubber-chicken circuit.”
“I’m fine,” she said, her words clipped.
He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, not caring if anyone noticed them. “Jewell, there’s obviously something wrong. Is it that man?” he asked as his eyes scanned the room.
“No. He’s nobody,” she said, surprised she’d forgotten about Steve in her uncomfortable time at the table with Blake and Monica.
“Tell me now, Jewell!” He wasn’t being as kind now; the domineering Blake had taken over again.
“Fine! I think it’s very rude of you to bring me down here when you already had a date. How many does one guy need? Especially since you and Monica seem to get along so well,” she snapped. Then her eyes flew wide open and she bit down on her lips, wishing she could sew them shut.
His expression went from shock to confusion and then, to her utter outrage, to amusement. His lips turned up and before she could say another word, he let out a soft chuckle, and that degenerated into full-blown laughter.
“I’m not going to stand here and take this,” she told him. There were only two days left. To hell with it. She was out of there.
Jewell whirled around, ready to storm off, but was stopped in her tracks when Blake grabbed her arm and began walking toward one of the terrace doors. She wanted to dig in her heels and refuse to accompany him, but she also wanted to avoid causing a scene. This entire evening had been a nightmare, and her dearest wish right now was to scurry away into some dark corner and hide for a long, long time while she licked her wounds.
When she and Blake were alone, he pushed her up against the balcony railing, his laughter dying away as he looked down into her eyes. Her breath hitched.
“I shouldn’t have laughed, Jewell. I’m actually surprised I did. But I didn’t think twice about Monica being here. I’ve known her since I was about ten years old, and she’s probably my best friend, as well as my personal assistant. The only woman I trust, actually.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s not also your lover.” Jewell fought the need to squirm after saying that.
“Well, considering she’s married to one of the starting linebackers for the Seahawks, it pretty much does mean she’s not my lover,” Blake said with another chuckle.
It took a few moments for his words to sink in and then she felt like a complete and utter fool. But how was she to know they weren’t intimate? She’d watched them all through dinner, and two of them had shared jokes, laughter, easy touches…just like best friends did.
And now she’d shown him that she cared. Dammit!
He moved even closer to her. “I have to admit that I like this jealous side of you, even if it’s completely unfounded.”
“I wasn’t jealous. I just don’t like feeling like a third wheel.” Sheesh. Why didn’t she sound convincing even to herself?
“I think you’re lying. I should certainly punish you for that,” he told her before leaning down and capturing her lips.
It didn’t take long for Jewell to forget all about her jealousy and to focus solely on the amazing effect Blake had on her body.
When he allowed her to come up for air, he spoke to her in a serious voice. “Jewell, you should be very careful with what you show to the world. There are people who can use your emotions against you.”
She went still as she looked at him. Who was he warning her against? Himself? Others? She really had no idea.
“I can take care of myself,” she said, though a shiver ran through her.
“I don’t think you can, Jewell. I think you need someone to take care of you. Is that why you began working at Relinquish Control?”
She paused, trying to choose her words carefully. Maybe if he thought this, he would drop the subject. They had only two more days left, and he seemed to want to climb inside her head even more as the sand ran out of the hourglass.
“I have my reasons for working there,” she said. “I don’t honestly believe that you care. I think it’s just your need to be in control.”
“You’re right, Jewell. I do need to be in control. You should remember that always, and know that I will eventually get my way.”
“Warning accepted,” she told him as he pulled her against his hard body again.
“I don’t think you really know what that means, Jewell. Right now, I still own you.”
“You never let me forget that, Blake.”
“I don’t understand, then, why I need to keep reminding you.”
“Maybe because of your own insecurities,” she was bold enough to say, making him tense up in her arms.
“You will push me too far one of these times.”
She had no doubt that was true. What she didn’t understand was her sudden desire to go back to his place. There really had to be something seriously wrong with her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jewell peeked around her bedroom door, trying to hear whether there were any sounds in the house. When she heard nothing, she tiptoed from the room, hopeful Blake wasn’t there.
She’d slept in his room again the night before, but had rushed to her own room as dawn was just breaking — not that he’d been in bed. He was always up early, and usually gone by the time she came downstairs, if only for a couple of hours.