I tremble from the force of his words, and from the emotion with which he said them. They are like a blanket, keeping me safe and warm, and I wrap them tight around me.

“We’ll figure this out together,” he says, telling me what I said to myself earlier when I was lost in tears and anger.

But now the world is clear and I’m staring into the crisp, cold light of reality.

And even with Jackson’s love to bolster me, I cannot help but be afraid.

twenty-four

“Good morning, beautiful.”

I open my eyes to the warm comfort of Jackson’s voice washing over me, followed by the brush of his lips against my temple.

“Good morning yourself.” I smile and stretch, and despite the worry that still hangs over me, I feel as bright and shiny as the California sun seeping in through the window. “Any brilliant ideas in the light of day?”

“None yet,” he says. “But the morning is young.” He moves toward the bathroom and I slide out of bed to follow him. “Don’t worry. He won’t do anything too quickly, that would be foolish.”

“Foolish?” I repeat as I lean into the shower to turn on the spray. “So far, he hasn’t exactly proven to be a brain trust.” Then again, he was managing to very efficiently fuck with both of us, so maybe he wasn’t an idiot, after all.

The thought doesn’t make me happy.

I move my towel closer to the shower and then reach in to check the water temperature. Jackson eyes me, his head slanted to one side. “Are you going in today?” he finally asks. “You have to pick up Ethan.”

“Well, yes.” The thought of staying in the suite or going home hadn’t actually occurred to me. “But that’s not until later. I can leave a bit early, but I have a ton to catch up on.”

“Syl …”

He doesn’t say anything else, but I know what he is thinking. I slide toward him and enfold myself in his arms. We’re both naked, and though this moment isn’t sexual, I can’t help but notice the hard press of his body against mine. He feels safe and solid and perfect, and I tilt my head back so that I can look at his face. And at the concern in his eyes.

“Yes,” I say again. “I’m going in. And I’m strong enough to do it because I know you’ve got my back. And that somehow we’re going to figure a way out of this mess.”

He is silent for a moment, just holding me. Then he kisses the top of my head. “We damn sure will.”

I take his hand as I step back, then smile, wanting to lighten the moment. “Come on. I want to enjoy the feel of you in the shower.”

He doesn’t protest, and soon the water is sluicing over our bodies, and as I stand in the spray wrapped in his arms, I can’t help but think how perfect this feels. “I like this,” I tell him, though that is about as much of an understatement as an understatement can be. “Intimacy. It feels good. It feels right.”

“That’s because it is.”

“Tell me again.” My voice is soft, but it holds a plea, and though I do not tell him, Jackson understands exactly what I need to hear.

“I love you,” he says, and I hold him close and sigh with contentment.

“I had a thought,” he says when we’re in the Porsche and heading to the office after a late morning. And not a late morning in bed. No, Jackson bought me some sweats and a T-shirt from the gift store, and then we’d walked to the Century City mall, where he’d bought me a fabulous new outfit from Michael Kors to replace the dress he’d so deliciously destroyed. I’ve left my car at the hotel, but I figure we can pick it up anytime.

“A sexy thought?” I tease.

He chuckles. “I have those every moment I’m with you, so there’s really no need to remark on them. No, I think I may know a way out.”

I shift in the seat, turning serious. “A way out? You mean from Reed’s threat?”

“We’ve been thinking about this as if it’s a straight line. Like tug-of-war. You pull your side over, and my side loses. I pull my side over—”

“And mine loses. I get it. So?”

“What if the game isn’t tug-of-war?” He takes his eyes off the road for just a second to look at me. “What if it’s something else entirely? A triangle and not a straight line.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean that Reed is playing you and me against each other. But he’s discounting your father.”

I stiffen. “My father?”

“Hear me out. Your dad set the whole thing up originally, right? So if your dad confronts him—”




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