Chapter 1
“Venice?” Mallory squeaked. “As in, the Venice? In Italy?”
Jake’s wide grin told her she was right. “Yep,” he answered simply. Mallory stared at him, mouth agape, for a few moments. He made a shooing motion at her. “Well go on. Get packed. We’ll be gone for three nights.”
Mallory was breathing hard, her head spinning. It was almost too much for her mind to comprehend. Was this really happening? Or was she dreaming? She pinched herself. The little ping of pain on her arm told her that this was indeed real.
“I can’t,” she said finally.
Jake frowned. “And why not?” He asked. “You did agree to go out with me, remember?”
“Yes, I agreed to dinner! Not a three night mini-vacay with a complete stranger! How do I know that you aren’t going to murder me or sell me into slavery or something?” Mallory had seen the movie Taken; she knew how this would go down.
Jake just laughed. “Well, for one, I’m a pretty high-profile character; I don’t think I could murder you without anyone noticing. And for another, I would never give you to anyone else.” His gaze turned hungry, his eyes intense. “I want you for myself, Mallory.”
She shivered at the possessiveness in his eyes. “But-” she began, but he cut her off.
“No ‘buts’, Mallory. You agreed to this and that’s that. I want to take you to Venice.” His gaze turn hard, a bit menacing. He placed a strong finger under her chin, lifting her face so that she had no choice but to meet his eye. “And I always get what I want.”
God, he was an arrogant ass. But she could not deny the rush of heat to her sex at his words, remembering how he had captured her, restrained her as he manipulated her body so skillfully. She wanted more of that dark seduction, that much she knew.
“Don’t you want to go to Venice, Mallory?” He asked softly, his tone demanding a truthful answer.
“Yes,” Mallory heard herself admitting, her voice a whisper. She had always longed to go to Italy. She wanted to teach high-school history, and she yearned to visit the ancient historical sites of Europe.
Jake smiled a Cheshire-cat grin, knowing he had her trapped now. “Well then, what’s the problem? Come with me,” he said more earnestly, the lines of his face betraying anxiety again. Mallory was intrigued by this softer side of him, the real man beneath the hard mask. She wanted to know that man better, and she wanted to know the cocky Jake sexually now that he had awakened the dark carnal desires within her. And after all, Mallory admitted to herself a touch resentfully, it wasn’t as if she had anything to do here, no responsibilities, no job to go to.
“Fine,” she conceded, but she was sure to put a sharp edge to her voice, to mask the fact that she was secretly thrilled to accept his offer; she didn’t want him to get too big for his britches. She would be sure to challenge him at every turn, to make him see that she wasn’t some push-over he could win with over with his money. “But you have to let me call Sally to let her know where I’m going. That way I know you can’t kill me without someone knowing your MO.”
Jake chuckled at her again. “I can assure you that I will not murder you. You don’t have anything to fear from me.” But his smile was sly, a dangerous twinkle in his eye. Mallory gulped, knowing that she did have something to fear: that he would turn her to pliant jelly with his erotic ministrations.
It’s just fabulous sex, she assured herself. You want that don’t you? Just don’t let him get the upper hand again. Yeah, right. That would be so easy. “Okay,” she said, a bit acidly, “I’ll pack.”
Jake grinned despite her tone. “Excellent.”
He waited in the sitting room while she darted around her bedroom, throwing her favorite dresses into her bag. After a moment’s hesitation, she packed her sexiest lingerie as well; if she had any hope of being the seductress rather than the seductee, she would need all the weapons in her arsenal.
A few minutes later, her duffel was being loaded into the trunk of a black limo by the driver. Of course he has a driver. And of course he has a limo. Jake definitely liked nice things, and he definitely never did any mundane tasks for himself.
Once they were in the limo, Jake seated as close to her as possible despite the ample room, she decided to goad him. “Don’t you ever do anything for yourself?” She asked a bit condescendingly. The guy might be taking her to Europe, but that didn’t get the spoiled little rich boy off the hook.
Jake blinked at her, taken aback by her bluntness. He looked as though no one had ever spoken to him so frankly, and, to be honest, so rudely. Well it’s about time he had a dose of reality, Mallory thought to herself.
“What do you mean?” He asked, puzzled.
“You send your staff to fetch people, for one; you don’t answer your own door; and you don’t drive your own car. These are basic life skills.” She looked at him challengingly, daring him to contradict her.
“Well,” he began, a bit uncomfortably, “I do drive my own car sometimes. I love my Ferrari.”
Mallory snorted derisively. “Oh, how independent of you.”
Jake looked at her earnestly, his brow furrowed. The anxious man was back, clearly hurt by her words. “Why do you hate me, Mallory?” He asked.
Mallory was shocked. She didn’t hate him; she didn’t hate anybody. So why am I being such a bitch? Deep down, she realized that she resented him, although it rankled to admit it. She sighed. “I don’t hate you, Jake. I don’t know if I like you all that much, but I don’t hate you. It’s just… I can’t begin to understand your lifestyle. It’s like you’re from another planet or something.”
His strained expression eased, a small smile playing around his mouth. “Well, I’m sure we can manage to cross the cultural divide. I assure you that I’m not an alien. At least, I don’t think I am. Maybe I should check my family tree. My uncle Albert sure looks alien enough, poor fellow.”