* * *
JAX PULLED INTO the subterranean parking garage of his apartment building and two valets greeted us. As one of the bow-tied guys helped me out of the car, I was struck again by the financial gulf between Jax and me. I wasn’t intimidated by his wealth, but it was possible the disparity was a bigger problem for him.
It didn’t improve my mood to think of it.
Reaching for my hand, Jax linked our fingers and led me to an elevator. I’d half expected him to fly us out to Virginia or D.C., and realized abruptly that I had never allowed myself to consider the likelihood of him living at least part-time in New York, too. But of course it made sense that he would have a place in the city, which was the financial center of the country.
The elevator doors closed behind us, and he immediately pulled me into him. I let him. He leaned back against the brass handrail, spread his legs, and urged me to stand between them, his hands running up and down the length of my spine.
It’d been so long since I’d been held with such intimacy and tenderness.
He’d been in New York the whole time....
I closed my eyes and absorbed the warmth of his body, the smell of his skin, the soft caress of his breath against my temple. I’d denied myself the comfort of a man’s touch for too long.
“How was your day?” he murmured.
“Busy. How was yours?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
I closed my eyes, holding fiercely to my wrath. It was a harder task than it should’ve been.
He laid his cheek against my temple. “I’m sorry, Gia.”
“For what? Helping Pembry screw the deal I was working on?”
Jax sighed. “You knew the score. We talked about this.”
“That doesn’t excuse you. I don’t accept your apology.”
“I don’t blame you, but you’ll find a way to handle it. This is a minor setback you’ll have no problem overcoming.”
I met his gaze. “You’re damned right.”
The elevator dinged, announcing our arrival on his floor. When I turned around and saw a small foyer and double doors, I realized Jax lived in a penthouse apartment. Which explained why the elevator hadn’t stopped in between the parking garage and what I now knew to be the top floor.
Grabbing my hand again, Jax led me across gold-veined marble tiles and unlocked the door by placing his palm against a wall-mounted security pad.
“I bet your dates love this James Bond stuff,” I said as the thick walnut door swung open automatically. I managed to say the words casually, but envy ate at me as I imagined him with other women.
“What do you think of it?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at me.
“Ah, well, I’m a simple girl at heart.” My gaze raked over the sunken living room with its snow-white carpet, black-leather-and-chrome chairs and sapphire-blue area rug. A sterile, bluntly masculine bachelor pad.
I frowned. “This isn’t you.”
The door shut behind us. “No?”
I’d expected warm colors, varied textiles, colorful modern art—decor that reflected the vibrant, slightly rough-around-the-edges, occasionally quirky man I loved.
Stepping deeper into the room, I struggled with a profound sense of disappointment. Had I really been so wrong about him?
“Would you like a drink?” he asked quietly, coming up behind me. He stood so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“Definitely.”
His dimple winked at me. “You won’t throw it in my face, will you?”
“I’m tempted, I admit,” I said dryly.
His hands came to rest on my shoulders. “Remember that night at the Palms?”
My hands fisted. “Low blow, Jackson.”
I would never forget standing on the fifty-fifth floor’s outdoor sky deck with Jax wrapped around my back and a glass of white wine that we shared in my hand. The city and desert stretched for miles, the glow of the neon lights fading into inky darkness.
What a view, I’d said, leaning into him, feeling happier than I ever had. I was dating the perfect guy, a man who made my toes curl at night and my days bright. He’s going to change my life, I’d thought. He’s going to change me, for the better.
It seemed ridiculous now. Making changes was my responsibility. Having a great guy was just a bonus.
I started to pull away, but he held me in place.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
I tugged a little and he let me go, freeing me to face him. “Then why did you do it?”
“Why do I do anything?” he said gruffly, his eyes dark and hard. “Because I’m a Rutledge. We fuck people over, Gia. That’s just who we are.”
“That’s a cop-out,” I snapped.
“That’s the truth.”
I walked away, my gaze roaming.
“If you want to walk out,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop you. But I’d like you to stay.”
I paused. Turning, I confronted him, hating how his features gave nothing away. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to end things. Piss me off, get me to storm out. It wouldn’t be a quiet breakup and it’d certainly be a little messy, but quick and final nevertheless. Just the way you like it.”
“I’d hate it, but I’m no good for you, Gia.” He passed me and moved into the kitchen.
I tossed my purse on one of the armchairs. “I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.”
Jax pulled a bottle of white wine out of the fridge, then set it on the counter. The kitchen was as devoid of personality as the living room, with black cupboards and counters, and only a one-cup coffeemaker to show that anyone was in residence. Coming from a family for whom the kitchen was the center of the home, I found Jax’s depressing.
He watched me step out of my heels.
When I reached up to release my hair, I warned him, “I’m going to match your backstabbing move and raise you one round of angry sex.”
His lips parted when I reached under my dress to shimmy out of my panties. “Gia.”
“I can play this game.” I tossed my underwear at him and smiled tightly when he caught them. “And I can win.”
Chapter 10
JAX POCKETED MY underwear and came to me, abandoning the unopened wine.
He cupped my face. Lowering his head, he kissed me, his lips clinging sweetly. His hands moved to my shoulders, then down my back, his fingers deftly lowering the zipper on my dress.
I went to work on the knot of his tie, letting the anger simmer and blend with my lust into a raging desire. I focused on him. On us. On the feel of him beneath my hands, the beloved scent that was his alone, the way his breathing deepened and his heartbeat quickened as the hunger grew between us.