One Woman Page 3
I follow Jax’s lead, and be it a right or wrong answer, I do so willingly.
Jax and I make it almost back to the castle when Savage appears in our path, moonlight illuminating his big frame and the scar down his cheek. “He’s gone,” he announces, and of course, he means Brody.
His eyes land on me. “He won’t be back. I’ve accelerated my team’s arrival, and we’ve taken control of the castle security system. You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, seeking a better answer than “he’s gone.” I look between the two men. “Please tell me there were no punches thrown.”
“I didn’t punch the asshole,” Savage says. “Though I’ll go to bed with fantasies of punching him the next time I see him.”
“If anyone is going to punch Brody, it’s me,” Jax says. “And it wouldn’t be the first time, but that’s a story meant for whiskey or wine.” He wraps his arm around me. “I pulled out my ace in the deck, and he left. No blows thrown.”
My brows furrow. “Your ace in the deck?”
“Another story for whiskey or wine,” he says softly, in obvious avoidance mode, but I can guess this stretches back to his boxing days. In other words, my questions are better saved for later.
“My team already hooked up to the security system remotely,” Savage says. “If he comes back, we’ll know, and I’ll be here.”
“Speaking of,” Jax says. “Jill’s working late. I told her you’d be staying before we left San Francisco. She can show you to your room. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”
“I already had the pleasure,” Savage replies. “Her official title in my Jax North file is now ‘Prudish Bitch.’”
I choke out a half-laugh, partly because it’s so fitting and partly because I’m pretty sure I’m in some level of shock right now. “God, what do you say about me?”
“Your title,” Savage replies, “is ‘Jax’s Hot Mama,’ of course.” He winks and adds, “And I think I might approve.”
In my life, I’ve always been my father’s daughter and now it seems Jax’s hot mama. It’s safe to say that despite the Savage-style compliment, which I appreciate, he’s hit a nerve. And he’s not done yet, at least not with Jill. “Speaking of our Prud—”
“You didn’t actually call her that to her face, right?” Jax asks, and I’d laugh at the question as nonsense, but this is Savage. You don’t have to be around him much or long, to know why his name fits.
“So, don’t address her as ‘Prudish Bitch’?” Savage asks.
“Only if you want to make my life hell. And I want you in Hunter’s tower. It’s the only option to keep you on the property, which is where I need you. She used to live there with him.” He releases me and pulls his phone from his pocket and keys in a message. “I just gave her a heads up, but if she gives you a hard time—”
“Spank her?” He wiggles a brow and doesn’t wait for an answer. “I have a thing for taking the prude out of pretty little prudes. I’ll handle her.”
“Good,” Jax says. “Because I’m not in the mood for anyone but Emma, and we’re not going back through the main castle.”
“Good,” Savage says this time. “Because you have lipstick all over your fucking face, man.” He eyes me. “And you have it all over your chin.” He smirks and refocuses on Jax, who doesn’t even bother to reach for his face. “I got this,” Savage says, walking backward and giving a little salute. “And as I’ve stepped up my team’s arrival, the one of me will be three by morning.” He leaves it at that, turning and walking away.
“He wants to spank Jill,” I say and laugh a choked laugh. “I don’t want that image in my head.”
“Amen to that,” Jax says, but the lightness of his tone darkens as he catches my hand again and adds, “Let’s get out of here before someone else finds us.” I nod, and he guides me a few steps until we cut right and down a stone walkway. We’re traveling the side of the castle, and there’s another batch of weeping willows darkening our path. Jax pulls me around a corner and slides his arm around me.
“Sorry, baby. I know it’s dark, and unfortunately, this is the only direct path to my door. There’s an electrical short on this side of the castle that keeps repeating, and none of my contractors seem to be able to fix.”
The power being out bothers me, much like my encounter with Jill did earlier. I trust Jax, I do, that’s not in question, not beyond a few moments when I was in shock and panicking, but deep in my soul, I believe his brother was murdered. And for the first time, I wonder, if that doesn’t mean that Jax, too, is in danger.
Jax lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “This path is our best bet on being alone sooner rather than later.” His voice is a soft rasp of heat that warms me from the inside out, his tone low, rough, laden with the same emotions I feel, which translates to too many to name. He’s the warmth that will make the cold of this night heat. We need to be alone. I press deeper into the nook of his body, and we press deeper into the darkness.
CHAPTER SIX
Jax…
I curse the darkness that consumes the walkway to the extended path leading to my tower, but there is no way in hell that I’m going to take Emma through the front of the castle. It’s a small miracle Emma is even still here, but come morning, when the shock wears off, she could easily bolt. Bottom line, we need to be alone. And then I need to deal with my brother, who has clearly lost his fucking mind. She yelps and wobbles when her foot hits a root of a tree. I catch her waist, holding her close. Holy fuck, I can’t hold her close enough after all that went down tonight. One wrong move on that wall, and she would have been dead. My foolish brother might have ended up on the rocks below with her, too. They both could have died, in the same damn night.
Catching Emma’s waist, I hold her close. “Just a little further, baby.”
“I’m fine,” she says, but there’s this quake to her voice that I’ve never heard before. She’s not fine. She was scared shitless on that wall, and truth be told, the castle isn’t what she finds scary. It’s my family. My family scares her. I think maybe hers does as well. I think she might have reason for both fears, and that’s a problem my gut says is dangerous beyond my brother.
We arrive at the archway framing my door, and I can almost feel Emma’s relief as we step into the warm glow of artificial lighting. “The power works here,” she says, as I guide her to the dungeon-style door, where I begin punching in a security code.
“I had a battery-operated power source installed two weeks ago,” I say, as the door buzzes open. “I have a contractor coming in to rewire the entire exterior of the castle.” I reach inside and flip on the lights. I resist the urge to pull her inside my doorway, press her against the wall, strip her naked, and remove every damn barrier this night has tried to erect between us. I want this woman, and if it was only physical, I’d do just that, but it’s not. Lord help me, she’s a damn Knight, and I’m not even thinking about walking away from her. And I damn sure don’t plan to make her walking away from me easy, which means I need her trust.
And so, I don’t pull her inside and take her against the wall. I motion her forward and step back, giving her room to enter first, and by choice. I want her to be here by choice. “Welcome to my home, Emma.”
Her green eyes meet mine, the artificial lighting catching amber flecks in their depths. “This is your home?”
It’s an odd question, considering our prior conversations, but I answer without hesitation. “It is.”
“And whose home was it before you?”
And there it is, the question inside the question that I read and answer. I catch her hand and walk her to me, and she doesn’t pull away. Her reservations are not about me. They’re about my brothers. Both of them. “Hunter never lived here, Emma. Savage is staying in his tower. My parents lived here in this tower. I sold my place after Hunter died, and I couldn’t live in his space. I didn’t have it in me. That’s how I ended up here.”
“And Brody?”
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“I inherited the castle because I’m the controlling partner in the main whiskey operation. Brody doesn’t own or live in the castle. I do.” I stroke hair from her face and tilt her gaze up to mine. “I want you, Emma. So fucking much that I don’t even know what to do next but keep you close. And that doesn’t have to mean here. We can go to a hotel.”
“No.” Her hand catches my tie. “No, I don’t want to go to a hotel. I want to be here. I want to see where you live and know who you are. And your brother doesn’t get to run me off.” She presses to her toes and touches her lips to mine, and just that easily, I’m hot and hard for this woman. But it’s more than that. I am so fucking into this woman that I don’t want to know the moment she walks away. And if my brother has his way, she will. I cup her head, and my tongue licks into her mouth, sweeping deep, the taste of her, all sweet passion and demand, but there’s more this time. There’s a tentativeness that wasn’t there on that dock, a little piece of her she’s holding back when I want all of her. A tentativeness I plan to wash away. “Let’s go inside, baby,” I murmur, ready to do just what I’d fantasized about minutes ago. Strip her naked. Remove the barriers. Get back to the two of us and keep it that way.
“Yes,” she says. “Let’s go inside.” She pushes away from me, and as if defying that wall I’ve sensed present, she doesn’t hesitate. She walks right inside.
I follow her, shut us inside, and arm the security system, all while I watch her take in the small basement foyer, with an elevator in front of her and a set of stairs to her right. “The elevator doesn’t work,” I say, once we’re safely sealed inside.
She whirls around to face me. “I thought you said the power was only an issue outside?”
“The elevator isn’t a power issue. My mother had it dismantled. She was claustrophobic and hated it.”
“Oh. Do you know why?”
“She fell in a hole on the lower end of the property when she was a kid and almost died.”
Her eyes go wide, her voice grave. “I see. That had to have been horrible. This castle is magnificent and—” Her voice trails away.
I step to her, my hands settling on her waist. “Scary?”
“Full of your family history,” she amends.
“And scary.”
“Tragic.”
“Indeed,” I say, and she’s hit about ten fucking nerves. She has no idea just how tragic. My eyes shut as memories try to beat their way in, but I don’t let them have their way with me. My brother’s words, his warnings about the Knight family, also trying to beat their way in.
“Jax?”
At Emma’s voice and the touch of her hand on my chest, I open my eyes, a punch of awareness between us with that connection. Suddenly, it’s me who wants out of my head, the way I’d sensed Emma had on the dock. It’s me that is cupping her head and lowering my mouth to claim hers. It’s me who’s drinking her in with a demand that refuses to be ignored. I want her. I want her now. And I want all of her, no limits. No inhibitions.
That’s the escape she’d asked me for on the dock.
That’s the escape that I’m going to give her right here, in this castle tonight.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jax…
Still kissing Emma, I walk her backward and press her to the wall just beside the elevator, and somehow, her back ends up on the call buzzer for the car. Of course, it works, when the car itself doesn’t, just to be a pain in my ass right now. It starts to screech, and Emma gasps, jolting with the poorly timed, ridiculously loud sound. I move her over two inches, punch the damn thing and lower my mouth to hers again. “It’s the elevator alarm,” I tell her and already my mouth is back on her mouth, my fingers walking her skirt up her legs until I’m cupping her backside.
She moans, a soft, sweet, drive-me-fucking-wild moan, that has me pressing her forward, arching her hips and settling the thick ridge of my erection into just the right spot. My cellphone rings, and I want to throw the thing across the room. I catch the hem of Emma’s blouse and pull it from her skirt. “Jax,” she murmurs, catching my hands. “Your phone.”
“Fuck my phone and my damn brother for what he did to you tonight.” I lean in and kiss her. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“So are you,” she replies, and that’s all I need.
I turn her and pull my jacket off her shoulders, tossing it to the ground. My phone stops ringing, thank fuck. My hand goes to the zipper on her skirt, tugging it down. She glances over her shoulder. “Here?”
This room might not be the fanciest, it’s a basement entry off a garage outside the door to the left, but it’s just fine for fucking. “Here,” I say, sliding her skirt over her hips, watching it fall to the ground, pooling at her ankles. I lift her and kick it away, and she loses her heels in the process, which is only slightly disappointing. I set her back down, and my gaze rakes over her perfect round backside, and I give it a smack.
She yelps, and I find myself smiling, despite all the hell of this night, I turn her around again, pressing her against the wall, kissing her before she can speak, before she can object, not that I think she’s of that mindset at all. “For me,” I say, repeating my earlier words, and damn it to hell, I feel this woman in ways I didn’t know I could feel anyone. I didn’t want this. Ever. But it’s too late. I want her. I want her to the point that I can’t be without her. “Don’t move,” I order softly, before I settle on my knees in front of her, my hand closing around the slice of lace between me and her. My eyes meet hers, and I yank her panties away, shoving them in my pants pocket.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispers.
My hands come down on her hips. “Believe it, baby.” I lean in and kiss her belly, a tremble sliding through her as my gaze lifts and collides with hers. And holy hell, there it is again. That punch I feel when I look at her. And holy hell again, there goes my phone ringing for a second time. I grimace and fight the urge to throw it across the damn room. I lean in to lick Emma, and she catches my shoulders. “Before you do what you’re about to do and make me not care anymore, answer the call, Jax. What if it’s Savage or your brother, and they show up here?”
My jaw clenches with how damn right she is, and I squeeze my eyes shut. My phone stops ringing, but this time, it starts all over again immediately. I lean in and lick Emma’s clit, making damn sure she knows where my mouth plans to be and soon. She sucks in a breath, and it about kills me to leave her like that. Forcing myself to stand up, I kiss her hard and fast, my legs shackling her legs. “That was to make sure you stay ready for me.” My phone has stopped ringing and started yet again, and with a curse, I reach in my pocket and pull out my phone to find Savage’s number. “You were right,” I say, glancing at Emma. “It’s Savage.” I punch the Answer button. “This better be good.”
“Your fucktard of a brother parked down the road at some giant ass tree and got out. He’s standing there doing nothing. For like half an hour now.”
My jaw clenches, and I push away from Emma, giving her my back, emotion punching at me. The tree my mother took us to when we were kids. Damn it to hell. I know what that spot means to him. I know what it means to me. What it meant to Hunter before he ended up in the damn ground.
“Just make sure he doesn’t get back into the castle,” I bite out. “And don’t call me unless he shows back up here.” I hang up and shove my phone back inside my pocket.
I place my hands on my hips and suck in a breath, looking skyward and forcing back the clawing sensation that doesn’t want to let go.
“What just happened?” Emma asks from behind me, and I turn to find her grabbing her skirt.
That’s all it takes to jolt me back to the here and now. “Oh no,” I say, closing the small space between us, and in a quick move, I pull her close and throw her skirt to die on the floor with my jacket. “You aren’t getting dressed. In fact, you still have on too many damn clothes.”
“What just happened?�
� she repeats.
I’m not about to tell her that my brother is lurking nearby, not after he pulled that crap tonight. My fingers slide under her hair, and I lean in close. “We were interrupted needlessly,” I say. “That’s what happened.”
“Talk to me,” she says. “I mean if you want to. I feel—”
“Good. Really fucking good, which is why I’m doing this.” I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. She yelps again, so I smack her bare butt once more.
“Jax! My God, what are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t get dressed,” I say, starting up the stairs, my fingers flexing on her backside. “I may never give you your skirt back.”
She laughs, a sweet, beautiful laugh that I feel in my groin and chest. “You’re crazy, Jax.”
For her, I think, which is why I don’t stop walking. I keep climbing until we enter the kitchen, a room with low beams, and a long stone island that my mother loved like she loved that damn tree. The pans dangling above it, hers. They’re still her damn pans. Why haven’t I replaced the pans? But I know why. They represent memories. So many fucking memories. Memories tearing me apart right now. And memories are all I have left of her, but Emma, Emma is here now, and I want her to stay here, so I walk under a stone archway and up another set of stairs, toward my bedroom.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Emma…
We’re both laughing when Jax sets me down at the end of a bed, on top of a soft rug in the middle of a dimly lit bedroom, his hands at my waist steadying me; a narrow fireplace that covers most of a wall glows to life. Beyond that, I see nothing else about my surroundings. My eyes are on Jax—on this man who seems to consume me as easily as he draws a breath. Our eyes collide, and just that easily, our laughter fades, something hotter and far more turbulent brewing between us.