

### IMPULSE

### Infinitus Billionaire

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Copyright © E. B. Walters 2015

Published by Firetrail Publishing at Smashwords

ALSO BY E. B. WALTERS

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The Fitzgerald Family series

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Slow Burn (book 1)

Mine Until Dawn (book 2)

Kiss Me Crazy (book 3)

Dangerous Love (book 4)

Forever Hers (book 5)

Surrender to Temptation (book 6)

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WRITING YA PARANORMAL AND FANTASY AS

EDNAH WALTERS:

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The Runes Series:

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Runes (book 1)

Immortals (book 2)

Grimnirs (book3)

Seeress (book 4)

Souls (book 5)

Witches (book 6)

Demons, A Runes Companion Novel

(Eirik Book 1, December 15th, 2015)

Heroes, A Runes Companion Novel

(Eirik Book 2, March 2016)

Gods, A Runes Companion Novel

(Eirik Book 3, June 2016)

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The Guardian Legacy Series:

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Awakened (prequel)

Betrayed (book 1)

Hunted (book 2)

Forgotten (book 3)

This book is a work of fiction. The names characters, places, and

incidents are products of the author's imagination and

are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to any

actual events or persons, living or dead,

actual events, locale or organizations is

entirely coincidental.

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Firetrail Publishing

P.O. Box 3444

Logan, UT 84324

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Copyright © 2013 E. B. Walters

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 0991251733

ISBN-13: 978-0-9912517-3-5

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Edited by Kelly Hashway

Cover Design by Jared Kestner and Melissa Haag. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner

whatsoever without permission, except in the case of brief

quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Firetrail Publishing publication: Jan 2015

www.firetrailpublishing.com

DEDICATION

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This book is dedicated to my fans.

Thank you for your continued support.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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To my editor, Kelly Hashway,

I am so lucky to have found you because you

are awesome. I would not have asked for a more

thorough, meticulous, and professional editor. To my personal

assistant Cheree Crump, you listen, you counsel, you uplift, you

scold, you kick-ass, BUT you make my life a lot easier. Thank you.

To the dynamic duo who've become my new critique and promo partners,

amazing Author Melissa Haag and Author Karen Lynch.

Thank you for reading the raw version and giving me wonderful feedback.

That ending would have been a lot different, LOL.

To Katrina Hill, as always, thanks for the stamp of approval

To my beta-readers, Jeanette A. Conkling and Toni Steiner,

I don't know what I would do without you guys.

You are gurus at finding typos and inconsistencies, going

through the final product, and making sure everything works

I couldn't have polished this book without your keen eyes.

Thanks to my street team. You ladies are absolutely amazing.

To husband and my wonderful children, thank you for

your unwavering love and support. You inspire me in

so many ways. Love you, guys.

TRADEMARK LIST:

Bentley

Blue Nile Inc.

Ciel Satellite Group

EchoStar Corporation

Gulfstream

Harley Davidson

Honda

L.A. Times

Lays

Lifetime Movie Network

Montage Beverly Hills

Rick Springsteen

Rolls-Royce

Showa

Suzuki

Telesat Canada

Triumph Speed

Union of Armenian Noblemen

Van Nuys Airport

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Read the First Two Chapters of Indulge

Indulge-Chapter 1

Indulge-Chapter 2

Pre-Order Intrigue (book 3)

Meet the Other Billionaires

A Message from Ednah

About Ednah

CHAPTER 1

"That's a nasty bruise you have there," Chris Lander called out from across the trailer.

Jillian Finnegan studied the bluish patch of skin on her right shoulder, a memento from last night. Several more covered her hips and thighs, but the body suit hid them. Her gaze connected with her partner-in-crime—Chris Lander, the genius who hid her bruises so no one noticed them.

"They don't hurt," Jillian said a tad defensively as she adjusted her robe.

"Of course," Chris mumbled through clenched teeth, reaching for his "special" bag.

"You're not going to lecture me again?"

"What good would that do?" Jaw set, Chris joined her. "You're stubborn and blindly loyal. If the studio finds out the cause of those bruises..." He pushed the robe aside and started applying base color on her shoulder.

She and Chris were Hollywood's dynamic duo—the brilliant stunt coordinator and his most daring stuntwoman. In the past seven years, Jillian had doubled for many female action stars under Chris' watchful eyes. If the studio learned about her nocturnal activities, she would be out of a job. She had a contract that forbade extracurricular stunts, which she'd breached this past week.

"I couldn't say no," Jillian said. "They're family."

"The stunts they pull are dangerous, Jill. They cut too many corners to thrill the crowd. Let them hire a substitute for emergencies."

"You don't understand," Jillian whispered.

"Damn straight, I don't." Chris took a deep breath, his hazel eyes flashing. "You're their sister, yet they have no problem putting your life in danger. It's important to plan a move down to a fraction of a second. Practice it over and over again"—he slammed a fist against his palm for emphasis—"before doing it in front of an audience. They had you performing moves you haven't done since you were a teenager. No wonder you fell."

"Only during practice," Jillian said defensively.

"Does it matter?"

_Yes, damn it. Working with my family meant everything to me._ "The ride went smoothly during my act. I had the people on their feet, holding their breath, silence so tense it pulsed. Then..." She closed her eyes, images from last night zipping through her head. The thrill. The crowd. The look of pride on her brothers' faces. If only her father had been there.

Chris didn't understand how stifled she felt doing stunts as a double. Hiding behind makeup and wigs, not getting her due despite all the work she put in. When performing with her family, she felt free. Complete. Right now, The Phantom Rider was the star of the Bay Area Circus. Soon, Jillian wouldn't need the mask to hide her real identity. She would once again be part of The Fearless Finnegans Troupe, the main attraction of the show.

"Then what?" Chris asked.

Jillian opened her eyes and grinned. No matter how often Chris criticized her nocturnal activities, he missed that life. "I gave them what they wanted and left them begging for more. You should come on Friday."

Chris shuddered. "No, thanks. I'm too young to have a heart attack. Did you wear the mask again?"

"Oh yeah." Once her father recovered, he'd give his final approval, and she would say bye-bye to Hollywood.

"As long as the fans keep calling you The Phantom Rider, your secret is safe." Chris stepped back and studied his handiwork. The discolorations were gone. She could always trust Chris to take care of her.

She reached up and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Uncle Chris."

He dismissed her with a flick of his hand, picked up a fire-red skydiver suit, and pushed it into her arms. "Now put that on and get out of here before I call your father and tell him everything. I'm sure he has no idea what you and your brothers have been up to. Damn fools," Chris mumbled. "How could they not see your bruises? A near-sighted moron could spot them a mile away."

She didn't try to trivialize his worries. Reasoning with Chris when he switched to mother bear mode was out of the question.

"You can't call Dad."

"I know. How's he doing?"

"Better." Her father had had a heart attack and recovery was slow. Every time she stopped by his place, it broke her heart to see him. He'd become a shell of the once vibrant man who'd done some of the most daring stunts in the history of the Finnegans. Her throat tight, Jillian pulled on her jumpsuit and zipped up, but she watched Chris from the corner of her eye.

He tapped on his tablet and went over the sequence of action he had planned for the skydiving segment, but his mind wasn't in it. He kept pausing and glaring into space. She faked interest in the zippers when he glanced her way.

Chris had always watched out for her from the moment her mother married into the Fearless Finnegans Troupe, a family of daredevils. Jillian had been only ten when Daniel Finnegan adopted her. Overnight, she'd acquired a doting father, an uncle and aunt, two older brothers, and cousins, who'd welcomed her into the family. Her mother had joined the act before the ink dried on the marriage certificate. Chris, who'd been the Finnegan's stunt coordinator back then, had worked with Jillian slowly and diligently, and by the time she was twelve, she was ready to ride her bike on The Wall. A year later, she'd conquered the Globe of Death, a rite of passage for all Finnegans. Her brothers liked to brag they did both when they were ten.

Jillian had just turned sixteen when a freak accident killed her mother during a performance. It was Chris who'd helped her overcome her fears and got her back on the bike. But her performance had slowly changed, her behavior on stage becoming erratic. She'd taken chances, thrilling the audience, but scaring her father.

The nights they weren't performing, she'd "hung out" with her cousins and brothers. Hanging out with the Finnegan boys often involved doing something illegal. Lucky for all of them, her father never found out or heads would have rolled.

Or maybe he had. Being pushed out of the family's nest had hurt. Angry and feeling rejected, she'd packed up her things and joined Chris in Hollywood. Working with her family now was like coming home.

Jillian reached up and kissed Chris' cheek. "I'm sorry for forcing you to keep my secret."

"Yeah, right. Me, strong-armed by a hundred-and-forty pound girl?" He was six-four and twice Jillian's weight. "Oh, before I forget, do you have an outfit for the producer's party?"

Jillian grimaced. "Do I have to go?"

"Yes." He shot her a look that said she had to be nuts. "You don't miss a producer's party, especially this one."

Yeah, the reclusive billionaire who'd saved this movie when the studio had planned to pull the plug.

"Fine, worrywart," Jillian said. "I'll be there."

"Can you find a date?"

Jillian made a face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a decent date.

"You can come with us," he offered, reaching for gloves.

"Oh, is that pity in your voice? I'm not going to be a third wheel. I can go with one of the gang."

"Not your cousins. They'll empty the guests' pockets and slip away before anyone realizes they've been robbed."

Jillian grimaced. "They never raided parties or paying customers. They were honest thieves." When Chris rolled his eyes, Jill grinned. "You know what I mean. They robbed the rich and gave to the poor."

"And lined their pockets, too," Chris retorted.

"We weren't exactly loaded. Besides, we gave free performances." Of course, she'd known they were breaking the law, but at the time she hadn't cared. They'd seemed invincible, like renegades or modern day Robin Hoods.

"You're going to spread yourself too thin working day and night. You need a life. I promised your mother I'd make sure you wouldn't waste your youth working yourself to death."

Jillian went still. Her throat shriveled. Her Mom. She missed her. The pain was still there.

"She worried about you. You were a teenager, and all you cared about was performing and hanging out with your cousins. You need to find something better than this." He indicated the trailer with a wave.

"I have." And she couldn't wait to do it again. She was at her best when she performed in front of adoring fans.

"I'm not talking about a job, sweetie. You need someone to love you and put you first," Chris continued. "And that someone is _not_ Keith LeBlanc."

Jillian made a face. Keith was the lead actor in her new film. "What made you think of Keith?"

"He's been monopolizing your time since we started filming." Chris studied her intently. "And he's Hollywood's latest Wonder Boy, which translates to a big ego."

"Keith is like a sponge, always wanting to learn stuff, and he thinks I'm witty." She gave Chris another toothy smile.

Chris snickered. "He's not suitable for you."

Suitable? Sometimes Chris sounded so old-fashioned. It had been a while since he'd warned her against dating someone in show business. Her first Hollywood romance had burned hot and fizzled fast. Chris hadn't approved. Twice after that, she'd opened herself to love, and each time the same thing had happened. Her conclusion? Hollywood men lacked romance, imagination, and skills. Or maybe she had high expectations and was easily bored.

"Don't worry about me." She tucked her long hair under a wig cap, then pulled the wig on. "I have new rules. No more dating Hollywood bad boys with wicked smiles, cute butts, and shiny toys. They have the attention span of a cocker spaniel on Viagra. No more dealing with cocky attitudes and excusing bad habits," she vowed.

Chris laughed and threw the skydiving gloves to her. "I've heard that before."

"I'm serious this time. I'm done with show biz guys."

"I didn't mean you should write off every man in show biz. Just don't confuse troubled for interesting. Find someone with solid family values. Not all guys around here are bad."

"Yes, they are. You just got lucky."

She was in the process of slipping on the gloves when the masterful purr of a V-twin engine reached her ears. It drew closer, until the windows of the trailer vibrated. Chris looked out the window with an expression she'd only seen on his face when he stared at his life partner.

"Is that Greg?" Jillian asked.

Chris chuckled. "Are you kidding? He'd never be caught on anything that didn't have a door. Even driving with a top down makes him uneasy. But you'd better take a long, hard look, Jill, because if you're serious about those rules you just spouted, you are about to miss out."

"Who is it?" Jillian adjusted the straps of her gloves as she approached Chris.

"The kind of bad boy you've sworn to never, ever date."

Jillian peered out the window, and her eyes widened. Holy shit! Had she just sworn off men with shiny toys? What a beauty. Her eyes followed the huge Leeds Road King with its two-tone sterling silver and vivid black lines. It was top of the line with custom-made heavy breathers and exhaust pipes. She knew enough stats on the motorcycle to know it had everything a modern rider could possibly want, from GPS navigation and AM-FM stereo to iPod plug-ins and voice recognition for phone calls. What she wouldn't give to take it for a test drive.

Then her gaze shifted to the owner of the bike as he switched off the engine and stood.

"Fuck!"

"Really, Jillian? I don't understand how you keep using..."

She tuned him out. Watching the biker dismount sent a thrill through her that had nothing to do with his bike. No sane woman would take _that_ for a test drive. Everything about him said he was in charge. He did the driving.

He was big with broad, masculine shoulders under a leather jacket, thighs molded by black jeans and scruffy boots that had seen better days. He removed his helmet and finger-combed his hair. The wavy hair flopped back on his forehead and curled at the base of his neck.

Turn around, please. Pretty please.

She grinned when the man shifted and gave her a side profile. Chiseled jaw line. A two-day-old shadow. Not fair. If only she could see his eyes. Eyes said a lot about a man. His were hidden behind aviator sunglasses.

Jillian sighed, the sound close to a purr.

"Now's your chance."

She whipped around and faced Chris. "What?"

"Show me you're immune to all that." He indicated the stranger with a wave.

The floor shifted under Jillian. That man out there was too much for her to test her theory on—too big, too masculine, and too gorgeous. Who was he?

Even though they were shooting at a location, the public wasn't allowed to come this close to the crew's trailers, which meant he had to be a studio exec. He didn't look like the type to take orders from anyone, so he couldn't be an actor.

"Here you go." Chris handed her goggles and a helmet.

She wrinkled her nose, pushed the goggles up in her hair—though carefully so as not to dislodge her wig—and tucked the helmet under her armpit. The tempo of her heartbeat changed as she started for the door. Her stomach dipped.

"Hurry," Chris added. "Michaels wants us out there now. We should be in the air in the next thirty minutes."

"Oh. So no time to test theories," Jillian said.

"Scared? You?" Chris laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day."

_Me neither._ No man was turning her into a coward. No matter how hot he was.

"Okay, Chris. Watch and learn. I'm going to have that gorgeous man eating out of the palm of my hand in ten seconds flat."

Chris chuckled. "Be careful out there, and remember to focus, stay in control, and don't be ashamed to ask for help when you're in trouble."

Jillian rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. He's just a man."

Chris groaned. "I meant skydiving, Jill. He's already making you forget about work." His expression became serious. "I won't be able to give you a pep talk before you jump, so remember everything I've taught you."

_Focus, stay in control, and when in trouble improvise..._ the three rules she lived by.

~*~

Lex Fitzgerald studied the people scurrying about the Perris Valley Skydiving field and grimaced. The idea that he could find a solution to his business problem in Hollywood would have been ludicrous a week ago. Now, here he was.

To his left were several RV trailers with tinted windows, gleaming exteriors, and popped out sides. Beside them, the other trailers looked drab and several decades old. To his right was a huge contraption with _Indoor Skydiving_ printed on it. It wasn't exactly the place to search for the perfect person to play the role of his wife, but he was desperate.

Once he'd made up his mind about what had to be done, he'd set a plan in motion. Reading resumes. Doing background checks. Studying headshots, not that looks had anything to do with acting abilities. He had a history of dating a certain kind of woman, and if he deviated from that, his family would be onto him.

He'd already chosen ten promising candidates. All he had to do now was observe the actresses in action, without them knowing his identity or intentions, and narrow down the list. People tended to act like idiots whenever his name was mentioned. Half the time he wasn't sure whether he or his family was the cause.

Lex was a real estate developer with a knack for finding prime properties— returning decrepit buildings to their former glory and empty lots into an oasis for those with discerning tastes. Becoming a billionaire before he hit forty was proof that the key to success was hard work and innovation. But his large Irish-American family had a presence on the west coast. They covered the full spectrum when it came to careers. From public servants to successful entrepreneurs, sports figures to land owners, one couldn't pick a profession without a Fitzgerald popping up.

Two years ago, his cousin Eddie, a former cop with the LAPD, had approached him with a proposal to create custom-made motorcycles. They'd started Leeds and launched their first motorcycle—Leeds Road King. Three months ago, they'd released Street Rider X and XD, the second one lighter and more appealing to younger riders. The reviews had been great and bike enthusiasts had taken notice, the first quarter surpassing their expectations. But when they started receiving orders from overseas, especially Asia and South America, Lex had realized they needed a distributor. One with a respected reputation in the extreme sports industry. There was only one distributor worth courting: Hujimura Motorcycle Distributors, a family-owned company with branches across the globe. Unfortunately, the CEO was a traditionalist.

Yoshi Hujimura didn't believe in doing business with unmarried men. According to him, unmarried men lacked tradition and stability, which meant they were not dependable.

What a crock of shit.

Lex was all about tradition and dependability. He was still unmarried at thirty-nine because he had to fulfill a promise he'd given his father—watch over his brothers and sister, and make sure they settled into their lives and chosen careers.

He was close to fulfilling that promise. All his brothers, his sister, and cousins, who'd joined his family along the way, were happily married and had thriving careers. Eddie was the last one.

Eddie might be a genius when it came to designing engines and motorcycles, but he was no businessman. Lex lived and breathed business. He'd been running Fitz-Valdez Real Estate since he was in his twenties. That he had to marry some stranger now to seal a deal didn't bother him. Once his cousin's business took off, Lex would be free to focus on his personal life.

"Nice ride."

Lex's head snapped toward the sexy, feminine voice. A woman in a red skydiving suit walked toward him, her eyes on his bike.

He tried not to cringe. She was everything he hated about Hollywood. Her makeup was over the top, like she was trying to cover up all her imperfections. And it was impossible to tell her hair color because of the atrocious multicolored wig.

As though she felt his disapproval, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jumpsuit. The action drew his attention to her generous hips.

"Thank you," he said politely and hoped the woman would go away.

She stepped closer. "I like the modifications."

Lex gave her a second glance, trying to see beyond the heavy makeup. He noted her button nose, lush lips, and the gentle curve of her cheekbone. "Modifications?"

"The handlebar, the chrome finish, and the hand-adjustable rear suspension weren't in the original Road King. The adjustable seats and the fenders are also new."

A woman who knew bikes. Now he was intrigued. He noted more things about her. She wasn't busty, but her posture said she was proud of whatever she had under the suit. He was a curves man. Not something to brag about, but curves and gentleness were two things he appreciated and enjoyed in the opposite sex.

He couldn't tell anything about her. Not her hair or the color of her eyes hidden by the long fake lashes and hooded eyelids as she studied his ride. Not that it mattered now. She could be wearing a sack over her head and he'd find her interest in his bike fascinating.

"It can hit eighty in fifth gear and still run smoothly," Lex said. "You obviously know your bikes."

"I've ridden some, modified a few. Road Kings are powerful and beautiful, but I prefer smaller bikes. I own an XD after years of being an F4i fan, but—"

F4i were made by Honda and were favored stunt bikes. Eddie planned to replace them with Leeds bikes. "But?"

Her head lifted, and their eyes met. She flashed a smile. "The XD could do with a little tweaking here and there. How does RK handle on the highway?"

He'd pushed the RK to one-forty with ease, but he was still reeling from the effect of her smile and couldn't respond. It transformed her face, garish makeup and all. She had gorgeous turquoise eyes, darker on the edges and lighter toward the center. Then what she'd said registered.

More tweaking? Eddie and his team of engineers had worked their asses off to get the engine and proportions right. He reigned in his annoyance and forced himself to focus on her question. What was it? The RK on the road.

"Handle her with care, and she'll give you the best ride of your life."

"Sounds like something I'd like to try," she purred, grinning while giving him a slow perusal that said she was flirting with him. "I love rides. All kinds of rides," she added softly, voice all husky, eyes meeting his under the canopy of her fake lashes.

And damn if she didn't get a rise out of him. She wasn't even his type. "Maybe I'll let you, if you ask nicely," slipped out of his mouth before he realized it.

"I don't do nice, but I could make an exception"—she laughed, her eyes twinkling—"for the Road King." She turned and threw over her shoulder, "Nice chatting with you. Take care of that baby. It's truly a king among bikes."

Lex didn't say anything. He was still trying to find his balance. Who knew a woman's laugh could have such an effect on him. When she'd paused at _an exception_ , he'd expected her to say him. He'd never been jealous of a bike until today.

His eyes followed her, loving the sway of her hips, which was surely for his benefit. She confirmed it when she glanced over her shoulder, winked, and laughed.

That rise she'd gotten out of him was now a throbbing hard-on. Lex shook his head to clear it and focused on controlling his body. He didn't know what had just happened, but he was finally looking forward to being at the Perris Valley Skydiving School today _and_ the party this weekend. He had to know the identity of that woman.

"Excuse me?" A man wearing a security badge interrupted his musing. "The drop zone is off-limits today, sir."

"I'm here to see Barbs Riggins." Lex handed him his card.

The guard studied it. Of course, the man didn't know Lex or that he was bankrolling this movie. "You need to talk to Mr. Gunter, the location manager. No one sees Mrs. Riggins without going through him."

He'd made the necessary adjustments in his schedule for this detour, and the last thing he needed was to be given the runaround. On the other hand, he couldn't take out his frustrations on a guy following orders.

"Okay, my friend, take me to Mr. Gunter."

"This way, sir." The guard headed toward groups of people under a tent at the edge of the field. Possibly actors and actresses. Beside them were several golf carts.

According to the studio, they were filming here for the rest of the day. The drop zone might not be open to the public, but he could see spectators by the club building. Another group was by the plane, which was already on their little runway. He could see the woman in the red suit talking to Barbs.

Barbs and her husband were a Hollywood power couple. He produced, she directed. Their romantic comedies often became blockbusters, but with the _Terra Frost_ franchise, they were branching out into a new territory. Because the last installment of _Terra Frost_ had tanked, the studio almost canned it, until Barbs and her husband took it over and brought in younger actors to keep its target audience. Convincing his mother, Estelle Fitzgerald, to get involved hadn't been hard. She liked a challenge.

"Which one is Gunter?" Lex asked.

"The one in a white suit," the guard answered, pointing at a gangly man in a Dodgers baseball cap. He was with the group by the tent.

Mr. Gunter looked up and smiled when he saw Lex. He left the others and hurried toward him while talking into the earpiece of a walkie-talkie.

"This is a wonderful surprise, Mr. Fitzgerald." He shook Lex's hand with enthusiasm.

"I hope I'm not in the way," Lex said. "My secretary called."

"She must have talked to Barbs, but you are always welcome here, sir. Come and meet the rest of the gang." Gunter was in the middle of introducing another assistant something when Barbs' golf cart pulled up beside them.

"Lex!" she called, hurrying to his side and tilting her head for a kiss. "I cannot believe it's taken you this long to come see us, you naughty boy."

Lex chuckled. Barbs had known Lex since he was a child. He'd even had a crush on her at one time. Unlike his mother who was accepting her age gracefully, Barbs had nipped and tucked all signs of aging and could pass for a forty-something from a distance. Her dark hair was without a single gray strand.

"Why? Do you want me looking over your shoulder?" Lex teased.

She laughed, her hazel eyes twinkling. "As long as we're within budget, my dear." She took his arm and led him away from the others. Like his mother, she didn't reach his shoulder, but she knew how to command attention. "Of course, if you had a few million more to throw my way, I wouldn't cut corners."

Lex grinned. He had bankrolled the production because of his mother. Estelle Fitzgerald was one woman Lex had never been able to refuse anything.

"I'm out of millions," he said just as the plane's engine kicked into gear. Lex's attention shifted. The people on the ground moved away from the plane. The biker chick in red was gone. "What's going on?"

Barbs shaded her eyes with her hand, despite her sunglasses, and studied the plane as its blade whipped the air. "A mid-air fight. It's spectacular. We've done dry runs, and Lander timed down the sequence to the last second."

Lex frowned. "I thought you did that kind of thing in a simulator."

"We do," Barbs said. "But we also shoot at a location for authenticity. The camera crew on the ground"—she waved toward the field—"and the one jumping with the actors give us views from different angles." She touched the communicator piece on her right ear. "Oh, excuse me. I need to answer this. Yes? Go ahead. Give him whatever he wants to make him happy."

Lex watched the plane taxi, anticipation making him edgy. Barbs touched his arm. "If I know you, you didn't read the summary I sent you or the list of stars."

Not until last week when it became apparent he needed help. "I've been busy."

"We got Keith LeBlanc as the supporting actor. Lots of talent there. He's the next Cruise. Yes?" She murmured into the mouthpiece. "Is that so? Tell Jill to talk to him. She seems to have a knack for calming him down." Barbs turned to Lex. "Maybe not the next Cruise, but close enough."

"Is the lead actress doing the jump with LeBlanc?"

"Margo?" Barbs chuckled. "You wouldn't catch her doing a single stunt, which makes Keith very refreshing. She's in her trailer resting before her scene, which starts when Jillian lands on the ground. You should meet her. She's a very talented young lady. I stole her from Sissy." She giggled. "Poor Sissy still hasn't forgiven me, but I plan to change that at your mother's party. I'm going to introduce her to a dashing middle-aged Aussie I met last week. Might be her next husband."

Somehow, Lex doubted it. Sissy, another director and sorority sister to his mother, loved younger men. "Jillian?"

"The stuntwoman, Jillian Finnegan. She's Margo's double. Leslie"—Barbs waved to a tiny blonde hovering by the golf cart—"tell Margo we have a visitor she must meet."

Lex had no interest in Margo anymore even though she had made his list. Jillian Finnegan hadn't, but she was on it now. Stuntwoman.

The woman he'd met was no one's double. He remembered the sparkle in her eyes, the tinkle of her laugh and its effect on him. He stared at the plane as it took off, anticipation and apprehension shooting through him.

He might have just found the woman he was searching for.

CHAPTER 2

Jillian studied the patches of green and brown visible from the window of the Cessna. They were about thirteen thousand feet above the drop zone and should be jumping soon, yet her mind was on that biker and her reaction to him. The moment he'd turned and looked her way, she'd almost chickened out.

Up close, the man packed way too much sex appeal. He had a presence most men worked hard to cultivate and failed.

Talking to him... No, flirting with him had filled her with the kind of excitement and nervousness she only felt when she was about to perform a stunt. Something few men had ever achieved. And the way her body had tightened when he'd given her a once-over had completely blindsided her.

"Jill?" Chris shouted above the drone of the aircraft's engine.

Jillian forced herself to focus. What the hell was wrong with her? Being distracted by a sexy smile would not do. Not before a stunt. She stood, braced herself against the wall of the plane, and moved to Chris' side. He studied her with a frown.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern in the depth of his eyes.

"Yeah. I'm good. Great." Liar. She was rattled. She'd never reacted to a man the way she had to that biker. Damn it. She didn't like not being in control. She nodded vigorously as though trying to convince herself more than Chris.

Scowling, Chris' narrowed eyes stayed on her as though he didn't like what he was seeing, or hearing. He could always read her. "Then pull yourself together or we're scrapping the jump."

And have Barbs get angry? No way. Her temper was legendary. So far, it had been smooth sailing on the set. But Jillian had overheard her and her husband arguing about keeping the production on schedule and on budget.

Cheeks warm, Jillian said firmly, "I'm fine."

"Then prove it," Chris snapped.

Why was he riding her so hard? She had this. She took a deep breath and exhaled. I'm in control. I can handle anything.

Calmer, she stared straight into Chris' eyes and caught the flicker of concern in their depths before he went back to being her superior. "I'm good."

Chris continued to study her intently. She sighed with relief when he nodded and glanced at Keith. "Calm him down."

Jillian stole a glance at the Aussie. She could see why Chris was concerned. Keith's jaw flexed, and he kept clenching and unclenching his hands. Most actors and actresses didn't do their own stunts, but the import from Australia liked to do things his way, including his stunts. So far, he had braved scenes that would have fazed an amateur stuntman.

As if aware of Jillian's scrutiny, he glanced at her and flashed a smile. His sweet smile often captivated female fans of all ages. Too bad it didn't have the same effect on her. The sensual promise she'd glimpsed on the biker's lips had packed a bigger punch. Made her wonder what kind of kisser he was. She'd never believed in instant lust, until today.

Dang it, she was thinking about him again.

She stole a glance at Chris to see if he was watching, but he was busy consulting with Packman—the first assistant director standing in for Barbs. Jillian scooted to Keith's side. "You ready?"

"Yep." Then he chuckled nervously and swept a lock of blond hair from his forehead. "Guess I'm a little nervous. How can you stand doing this all the time?"

Jillian shrugged. "I don't let fear stop me. Plus, it pays the bills." She was twenty-nine, not old enough to start worrying about retirement and not too young to believe she was invincible. Serious injuries were always a possibility and a concern. "Everything will be fine," she reassured him. "Just follow the sequences we did during dry runs and nothing will go wrong. Remember, I have your back and Chris is the best in the field."

"And you're not saying that because you're his niece?"

Honorary niece, but he didn't need to know that. "No. You did the burning car scenes yesterday and made it out without a scratch."

Keith grinned. "That was amazing. He's kind of a perfectionist."

"That he is. And those two pros are covering us, too."

Keith glanced at the two professional skydivers talking to their left. "Okay. I'm all yours."

Smiling, Jillian signaled Chris and gave an A-OK.

He joined them and went over the stunt sequence one last time. "The wind velocity, visibility, and cloud ceiling are perfect. The temperature is about thirty-eight degrees." He gripped Keith's shoulder. "Remember, your main chute and the backup are fail-safe. You have Jillian below you and two divers above you. Signal them as we practiced if you need help. The ground crew will be waiting for you at the end of the field when you land." Turning to Jillian, he added, "You go first. Heaney jumps after LeBlanc."

Sean Heaney patted his cameras and gave a thumbs-up signal. Sean was a renowned cinematographer who filmed free-fall stunts for movies and commercials. How he hurtled earthward at over a hundred miles-per-hour with huge cameras strapped to his head while filming stunts defied logic. The cameras were mounted on a rig attached to his helmet, and were connected to hand-mounted controls by wires running along his arms.

Chris opened the door, and a blast of freezing air filled the cabin. "Get into position, Jill," he yelled.

Wind whipping at her clothes, Jillian put her feet out on the strut and placed her hands on the wing support bar. It was cold. Although her grip was steady, the tempo of her heartbeat shot up, her pulse quickening.

Settling into a semi-crouched position, she looked toward the ground. Eighty mile-per-hour wind pulled at her clothes. It couldn't get better than this.

Chris signaled her.

Taking a deep breath, Jillian let go of the wing support. Gravity pulled her toward the surface of the earth as she fell away from the plane. Her descent was rapid. A blurry Keith appeared in her line of vision as he hurtled toward her. She smiled. He was doing great.

For the next several minutes, she dived then arched her back and spread out her arms and legs, until she achieved stability. She was ready when Keith made his move and reached for her.

Jillian evaded him, swooped, dived, and rolled with precise and graceful moves her gymnastics teacher would have applauded. Keith kept coming after her, the mock fight seeming so real when he grabbed the sleeve of her suit and yanked. The seam, replaced with Velcro, ripped and air rushed inside the suit. Dang! It was cold. Even the inner suit didn't protect her from the chill.

Jillian checked her altimeter. They were approaching the altitude to pull the rip cord and release their parachutes. Sean noticed what she was doing and imitated her moves. Moving her right hand to the rip cord, she released her chute and simultaneously moved her left hand over her head.

The lines jerked her body upward. Now she could control her descent. The spectacular view, the fresh air, and the feeling of oneness with nature were like the feeling she got after an amazing orgasm. However, the rush of emotions that accompanied the jump could never be compared with sex. It was better and more intense.

As she turned, dipped, and floated toward the ground, Keith followed her moves. Their landing went smoothly.

Margo, wearing a better quality of the red jumpsuit, the sleeve ripped to match Jillian's, walked over to join her and the ground crew. Jillian knew the drill—trade places and get off the stage. It was a total buzz kill. As usual, Margo looked right through her.

Jillian had learned not to take offense. She walked off the field without looking back. That weird sense of being watched had her looking around until she found the culprit—the gorgeous stranger on his bike.

Her stomach dipped. She probably shouldn't welcome the zing of excitement that shot through her, but she did anyway. It had been awhile since she felt it. Too bad it was for another Hollywood hunk.

He gave a stiff bow, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. Jillian looked behind her to make sure that smile was meant for her. There was no one near her. Warmth crept up her cheeks when their eyes met again. Feeling raw and exposed, she waved, yanked open the door of the trailer, and disappeared inside.

The stunt crew's trailer was old and pitiful compared to the main cast's fully stocked, state-of-the-art RVs. At least, she didn't have to share with the other stuntmen and stuntwomen. Knowing Chris had its perks, even if they were sub-par.

She removed the wig and cap, shook her wheat-colored tresses, and finger-combed them. Next off was the suit. She carefully unrolled the bandages from around her chest, until her breasts spilled free.

Oh, that feels good.

She rubbed the welts left behind. Binding her breast so she appeared flat-chested and caking her face with makeup to achieve Margo's pout and exotic features was the worst part of doubling for the actress. Jillian's breasts hurt, and her skin needed to breathe again.

She was removing her makeup when the powerful sound of a motorcycle starting reached her. He was leaving. Already? The urge to go look followed. She ditched the idea before it took root.

Glaring at her reflection in the mirror, she blew out air. What was it about that man anyway? She'd met her share of handsome men in her line of work. Dated a few. Good looks didn't mean jack.

Oh well. Let him go. She didn't like the feeling of not being able to control her responses. There were enough things in life she couldn't control, so when it came to her body, she was its mistress and she liked it that way.

The sound of the bike grew faint; then other sounds from outside replaced it. She finished washing her face and applied a light moisturizer, then changed into her regular clothes. Not wanting to clog her pores again, she didn't bother with foundation. Just mascara on her lashes, the fake ones tossed in the garbage. A colorless lip gloss finished her post-scene ritual.

A glance out the window and Jillian grimaced. No wonder she'd heard voices. It was lunchtime, and the catering crew was removing coolers of food and drinks from their van and placing them under the tent. She was skipping lunch today, thank goodness. The stars might get whatever they demanded, but the crew got the same boring sandwiches and salads. She planned to make one quick stop at her father's before heading home. If she got lucky, she might get her sister-in-law's homemade stew.

Jillian grabbed her leather jacket, shrugged it on, and reached for her keys. Barbs' voice reached her before she stepped down from the trailer.

"That was great, Keith. I know it couldn't have been easy, but you pulled it off. One more scene today and we're done." She patted him on the back and added, "Eat your lunch and rest." She waved Jillian over. "Come here, hun!"

Jillian looked longingly at her bike. She really needed to leave.

"Wasn't she great, Chris?" she directed the question at the stunt coordinator, but didn't wait for a response. "You were awesome." She gave Jillian a warm hug.

"Thank you, Barbs." They had been filming for a couple of months now, and in that short time, Jillian had come to admire the director. Barbs treated everyone cordially, from the highly paid casts to the extras. But when she lost her temper, everyone tried to stay out of her way.

"Take it easy for the rest of the week," Barbs said, firmly. "We have a full schedule next week. I want you fresh and ready on Monday. Oh, I almost forgot. Our backers expect everyone involved in the production to be at the Saturday night party. Everyone, so I expect you there with your plus-one." She turned and hopped onto the golf cart. With a wave, she took off toward the tent.

Something had put Barbs in a good mood. Earlier, she'd seemed tense.

"Take it easy tonight, kiddo," Chris said, walking toward her. He tossed her a bottle of water. "Do not add more bruises in the next two nights or you'll be dressed like a nun come Saturday. If you call me before the party, I'll pay your father a visit," he threatened.

"I can take care of a few bruises on my own."

He shuddered. "I've seen your attempts. Come here." With a quick hug he added, "Now get out of here."

Jillian put on her sunglasses and headed for her bike while guzzling water. As a stunt artist, taking care of her body was her first priority, and that meant keeping it hydrated. Water and a regimented workout. When she was on the road, it was hard to keep to a routine because her trailer wasn't equipped with a gym. But she'd learned to make do. No use whining about things she couldn't have. But that would soon change when she rejoined her family. Her father had just bought a new rig with travel weights and gadgets.

Jillian zipped up her jacket, swept her hair out of the way, and put on her Bluetooth enabled helmet with built-in speakers. She adjusted the volume on the handlebar-mounted controls. Now she could hear the traffic along with Beethoven's Symphony. Within seconds, she was leaving the skydiving school behind.

Cool breezes floated past her, teasing her warm skin. Late spring was her favorite time of year. It was neither too hot nor too cold. Instead of heading north towards I-215, she took a side road and headed for Ortega Highway. It was less scenic, but had less traffic.

She was still wired up from her jump. Classical music or yoga usually relaxed her after a stunt. When those didn't work, mind-blowing sex took care of the excess adrenaline. She hadn't used that technique in a while.

Technique. What a way to describe sex. Sex was anything but a technique.

Out of nowhere, the image of the man with the RK flashed in her mind. She shook her head, but couldn't dislodge his handsome features. The man was unforgettable; although everything about him yelled danger. He was the kind of man who would make a woman break all her rules.

As though her mind had conjured him, she saw him ahead. She'd recognize those broad shoulders anywhere. Her stomach did that annoying flip-flop again. She was going to pass him and keep going.

A truck was coming in the other lane, but it was still too far to worry about. The speed limit on Ortega Highway was forty-five. If she stepped on the gas, she could reach sixty easily.

She accelerated, moving to the other lane as she inched closer. She was close to overtaking him when he glanced at her, grinned, and picked up speed. What the heck? When she slowed down, he did too.

What was he doing? She stepped on the gas, tried overtaking him again, but the truck was too close. The driver flashed his headlights in warning. Luckily, there was a gravel shoulder on the road. Jillian swerved, lose pebbles flying behind her. The truck driver honked as he passed. He probably thought she was a nutcase. She careened right, flew over the edge of the road, and shot ahead of the biker.

In your face, baby. Jillian laughed.

Seconds later, her laughter disappeared as he picked up speed. This guy had a serious competitive streak. Just like her. He drew closer and closer. He was gaining on her. Of course, it could be a question of which one of their bikes handled acceleration better, but that was neither here nor there. Biking was her thing, and there was no way he was winning.

She tightened her body and sunk low, then gave her baby the final boost. She left him behind. Yes! She'd won.

Jillian did victory wheelies, which she'd perfected in her teens. Leaning back, she lifted the front wheel of her bike. Down the road she did the reverse, going for a nose wheelie. If the road was wider, she would have done a circle, but she was going too fast. Two guys in a jeep honked in appreciation as they rode past. She laughed.

The biker either didn't like her performance or was a buzz kill. He passed her and became a road hog, swerving left then right, blocking her from overtaking him. His light blinked furiously, indicating he planned to pull over.

Did he really think she'd pull over, too? She loved danger, probably more than most girls, but there was no freaking way she was pulling up on the shoulder of some road with a stranger just because he was gorgeous. When he slowed down, she shot past him and kept going.

See yah!

~*~

Jillian pulled up to a Shell Gas Station in San Juan Capistrano to refuel. She was just finishing when the biker eased in behind her. She turned to face him, her stomach doing that stupid dance again as she watched him dismount his bike.

"What took you so long?" she teased.

He pulled off his helmet, did that hair sweep he'd pulled earlier, which drew attention to his dark-brown wavy hair, and pulled off his sunglasses. "I was enjoying the view."

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Jillian laughed to cover her nervousness. "I must remember to use that the next time I lose a race."

He chuckled, the sound rich and sexy. Nice. His steely gray eyes glittered with something that had her taking a step back before she caught herself.

"I wouldn't exactly call it losing. More like choosing my battles." He kept moving closer, bringing with him a masculine, woodsy scent and a large dose of sex appeal that hit all her senses at once. Her mind protested, but her body must have decided to disconnect because it greedily responded.

"Those were nice wheelies," he added in a voice gone husky, removing his glove and offering his hand in greeting.

"Thank you. They were my victory wheelies," she added. "Basic. Nose. Circle, but..." Her voice trailed off when he took her hand. Who knew something so simple would feel so intimate?

"You'd have to stop for the circle," he finished. "Lex Fitzgerald," he added and lifted her hand to his lips.

A delicious warmth invaded her body. If a different guy had pulled that move in broad daylight, it would have seemed corny. From him, it seemed natural. Maybe it was the ease with which he did it or the fact that his eyes darkened as though the physical connection affected him. Why was his name familiar?

"Have dinner with me," the words rolled off his tongue like a prelude to something decadent. Her entire body hummed with appreciation.

"Yes," Jillian heard herself say above the furious pounding of her heart, her voice a tad breathless. His lips curled with masculine satisfaction and she realized she'd agreed to something. "Uh, no."

"You can't take it back. You can choose where we'll go," he added.

Jillian laughed self-consciously and eased her hand from his. "Yeah, tempting, but the answer is still no."

His eyebrows shot up. "No, you don't want to choose?"

"No to food and eating. I can't."

"Of course, we can." His hand came to rest on the seat of her bike, and for a moment, she stared at it with morbid fascination. She had sat there only minutes ago. Her traitorous mind imagined that large hand on... her ass.

Her mind just had to go there? Seriously?

When he patted the seat, her eyes flew to his. The grin on his face said he'd guessed what her crazy mind was creating. Guessed and found it amusing.

Jillian gave him a saucy grin. "Sorry, I don't do Hollywood."

His expression changed, going from amusement to concern in an instant. "I don't understand."

"I don't date anyone in show business."

"Why?" he shot back.

"They bore me, but it's been nice meeting you, Lex Fitzgerald." That name. She'd heard it somewhere.

"I'm not in show business." He slipped his glove back on, eyes not leaving her face. "Now that we've cleared up that, when and where can I pick you up?"

Such arrogance was something she usually disliked in men, yet on him it was actually a turn on. Perhaps it was the look on his face that said something about her pleased him. Probably her blabbering.

"Yeah, that's not happening," Jillian said. "You are with the studio or you wouldn't just waltz onto the field the way you did. Actors, extras, and studio execs are all not in my dating pool." She shuddered, remembering the losers she'd dated the last five years. No imagination. Self-absorbed. Boring in and out of the bedroom.

Lex smiled as though pleased by her declaration or her delicate shudder. Warmth added blue to the depths of his eyes, which was interesting.

"Barbs is a family friend," he said. "I brought her a message from my mother."

Ah, that was where she'd heard the Fitzgerald name. Chris had mentioned an Estelle Fitzgerald bank-rolling the movie. Must be his mother, which meant he was the last person she wanted near her. He could never know about her nocturnal activities. Plus, his family owned Leeds, the makers of the Road King. She hoped he wasn't easily offended.

Jillian picked up her helmet. "I hope I didn't insult you when I mentioned problems with your bikes."

Lex's broad shoulders lifted under the leather jacket, a glint entering his eyes. "I can handle a few constructive criticisms, but I'd rather discuss yours over a meal."

He got an A-plus for persistence and Jillian was tempted to say yes, but...

"Sorry, I have to go. It's been nice talking to you, Lex. I'm sure you have a team of engineers who'll figure out all the improvements your bikes need." She put her helmet on. Painfully aware of his silent presence, she glanced over her shoulder to find him watching with a smile as though he knew something she didn't. As though she hadn't just turned his dinner invitation down. Twice. Bet women rarely did that. The Fitzgeralds were loaded.

She waved and pulled away. He didn't move, and she could still see him in her rearview mirror watching her when she stopped before entering the street.

Jillian was a bit miffed that he hadn't asked for her name. Just because she'd said no to dinner with him tonight didn't mean she wouldn't mind down the line. He hadn't struck her as a man who gave up so easily.

Oh, just as well. He packed way too much sex appeal for her peace of mind.

Five minutes later, Jillian entered the old neighborhood where she grew up, and memories flashed through her head. She'd always been a tomboy, challenging her brothers and cousins to let her do stuff with them. Street hockey. Bike stunts. She'd watch them with envy, hating that she had to do boring stuff like dance and gymnastics. Now she was grateful her mother had insisted. Being agile helped her master fight moves, jumps, and rolls, which translated to better paying stunts.

Her entire family had lived in a sprawling five-bedroom house in San Juan—her family and Uncle Rowan and his family. Now her father, her younger brother Patrick—Ricky—and his wife Ginger, and their little girl, Sophia, were the only ones left. Cian, her oldest brother, and her cousins were in Anaheim. Her uncle and aunt had moved a couple of blocks away.

An unfamiliar black SUV pulled out of her father's driveway just as she entered the street running in front of their house. The driver, with a head built like a bullet, leered at her as they drove past. A shiver crawled up Jillian's spine. New employees? Her father always employed a part-time guy to help drive the rig on long road trips or help Uncle Rowan assemble the equipment. Since he was out of commission, chances were he'd want someone on a permanent basis.

A boy revved the engine of his motorcycle ahead and drew Jillian's attention. Jillian hid a grin. Watching this would never get old.

As far back as she could remember, kids on the block would try to impress her father with their biking skills. He'd give them pointers and warn them to be careful, but that was it. Finnegan Troupe never employed anyone outside the family to do stunts. Temp handymen and stunt coordinators like Chris, yes, but never stuntmen and stuntwomen.

Jillian parked her bike beside Ricky's and waved to the biker as he rode past. Using the open garage door, she entered the house. A voice drew her to the living room. Ricky. He was yelling something.

Ricky was the bike expert. He'd taught her everything she knew about bikes—parts, performances, and how to modify them to suit her needs. He was also a hothead. Jillian wondered who he was yelling at now.

"They came to the house, Cian. A bunch of thugs. One touched Sophia's head. You bet I wanted to punch him. Why didn't you or Dad tell me things were this bad?" Ricky asked.

Jillian stopped and frowned. What did Ricky mean by things were bad?

"What do you mean he didn't want me to worry?" Ricky snapped, then grew quiet. He was the only one she could hear, which meant he was on the phone. "Since I got married? Fucking hell, Cian. I told him Ginger didn't want a big wedding. Yeah, yeah, that's beside the point now. I knew we were overextended when the Reno gig fell through, but he told me not to worry. The next thing I knew we had a new rig and the wall was upgraded, but to get in bed with Armenians like Petrosian is suicide. We have to do something."

So the troupe had been having problems for over a year, and Cian and Dad had never bothered to tell Ricky or her? Did Uncle Rowan know? Cian was their father's right hand man. He could convince any officials to back up the troupe, organize a gig anywhere at the drop of a hat, and rally up employees.

"How much do we owe?" he asked. "Three-fifty?"

Jillian gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth. Three hundred and fifty grand? They couldn't possibly pay all that back. What was her father thinking? Chances were he'd borrowed a lot less, but it had accrued interest.

"Just what I overheard through the door," Ricky said, his voice low and defeated. "They expect full payment in three months or they'll take over the business and make us pay off the rest working for them."

My stomach dropped. They were the Fearless Finnegans, not some Armenian lapdogs.

"Okay. I'll join you guys after Elena comes home. What about Jill? Shouldn't we contact her?"

Yeah! Jillian inched closer.

"Cian. No. Dude, we have to tell her," Ricky added. "If she finds out that you left her out of the loop, she'll go ballistic." More silence. "Dad said that? I guess I'd forgotten about her mother. Still, if he sees how much she loves being back and the way she's already drawing in a bigger crowd... Oh, I get it."

She hated the one-sided conversation. She could only guess what Cian was saying, and it pointed to Dad not wanting her involved.

"No one is like her. I don't care how or who you plan to replace her with. No one pulls moves the way Jill does."

Jillian sucked in a breath. If he'd reached out and decked her, the pain would not have been this unbearable. They planned to replace her?

Her first instinct was to storm into the room, snatch the phone from Rick, and yell at Cian, but then she remembered her father was down the hall. He was the one calling the shots. Her fight was with him.

Carefully, Jillian backed up, opened the side door leading to the garage, and slammed it shut. "I'm home. Where is everyone?" she called out.

No, she wasn't going to fight with her father, but she planned to make him change his mind.

CHAPTER 3

Lex pulled into the underground parking of Dublin Tower on Wilshire Boulevard, parked his bike, and speed dialed his secretary as he entered the elevator. She picked up before the doors closed.

"Did you get the file?" he asked.

"Yes. The studio e-mailed it, and I made copies," she said. "Jillian Finnegan is a member of XS100, one of the top organizations for stuntwomen. They have a website with stats, pictures, and stunt reels. It might be easier to view her portfolio online."

"Thanks. Bring the file upstairs and e-mail me the link."

"The file is on your foyer desk." There was reproach in her voice. "And I just sent the link." Paula Watson had been with him for eighteen years and could anticipate his needs before he voiced them. She was also the only employee with access to the penthouse, his home away from home.

His phone flashed with a new e-mail message. "Got it. Anything on her agent?"

"Greg Underwood's agency is in Glendale."

"Get him on the phone."

"I already tried. He's meeting with a client outside the office and won't be back for another hour. I told his people to return my call as soon as he gets back."

Lex had no intention of waiting around for some agent to fit him into his schedule. "Can I get there in half an hour?"

"Not with the traffic, but Mathews is around and Rake's people won't mind if we use his helipad. Underwood Agency is only a block from Rake's offices."

He and Rake went way back to college, parties, and easy lays. Now they were into more serious stuff. "Tell Mathews we're leaving in"—Lex checked his watch—"thirty minutes." That would give him time to shower and change. "Tell Cavendish and his team to be ready, too." His legal team was used to dropping everything at his command. "Where's Douglas?"

"I just sent him out to pick up a few things. He should be back any minute."

He wanted to remind her that Douglas was his employee, not her personal errand boy, but the two of them had a special relationship he never understood and her silence said she wasn't done. Paula never did anything foolish or they wouldn't still be together.

"I wasn't going to ask, because you'd eventually tell me what was going on when you were ready, but I'm curious now. First you wanted information on the actresses, now a stuntwoman. What's going on?"

"It's business." Paula had been with Fitz-Valdez Real Estate when he started working there while he was still in college. Ten years his senior and resourceful, she used to scare the hell out of him. Now he couldn't imagine his business without her. Her loyalty was the one thing he could count on, but this business with Jillian was... different.

It was more than different. It was personal and private despite what he'd told Paula. He didn't want anyone to know about his plans for Jillian. Lex's eyes narrowed on the elevator numbers as he mentally went over their last meeting.

The protective instinct toward her surprised him. Maybe it was the vulnerability he'd glimpsed in her eyes the moment she'd placed her hand in his. Or the way she'd trembled when he'd kissed her hand. The woman was a contradiction. Gutsy, yet vulnerable. If things went according to plan, no one would ever know how their relationship began.

"Paula, cancel Cavendish. I won't need him or his team after all."

The silence this time was longer. He could hear the wheels in her head turning. He rarely made a move without covering his bases, which meant his lawyers going through the contract with a fine-tooth comb. This was a first. But like he'd said, the situation with Jillian was special.

"I don't know what's going on, Lex," Paula said, speaking slowly as though choosing her words carefully, "but I hope you're not doing something that would land us in jail. I took an oath to never testify against you."

Lex chuckled as the doors opened. He stepped out of the elevator and into his foyer. "No, Paula. It's nothing that dire. And I don't recall asking you to take an oath."

"No, you didn't, but a woman a lot scarier than you did when she asked me to be your assistant."

His mother could be overly protective and equally outrageous. "Then I release you from the oath. I'm still officially out of the office, unless—"

"Your family calls," she finished. "Your mother called and wanted to make sure you will be making an appearance at her party on Saturday. To paraphrase her, you better be there or else she'll bring the party to the penthouse. It's big enough to accommodate her guests. She also doesn't understand why you insist on staying in the city when you have a perfectly comfortable home and people to take care of you at the mansion."

Home was really the family estate in Palos Verdes. His mother was attached to it and none of his siblings had wanted the headache of its upkeep, so Lex had done what he always did and stepped up. He'd added a wing and made a few changes, which had pleased his mother, before taking up permanent residence.

"I'll call her." He picked up the folder from the foyer desk and continued to the kitchen.

"Speaking of home, your refrigerator is empty again except for bottled water, some white wine I'm sure I left there last year, and a carton of milk that expired weeks ago. Douglas will be there in a few minutes with some groceries. I gave him a list."

Lex rarely had meals at the penthouse, so Douglas rarely cooked except for an occasional breakfast.

"Thank you." Lex studied the kitchen and frowned. Something was off. "Paula? What did you do?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Mathews is headed to the helipad."

Had she rearranged his kitchen again? No, something was different. He had a keen sense of observation and knew when his personal space had been disturbed. Douglas never did anything without consulting him first, and Lex might not use his kitchen except to brew coffee, but...

"Did you take my cappuccino maker?" he asked.

"I was sure you wouldn't notice," she said. "Do you know how hard it is to buy a birthday gift for a man who has everything? This cappuccino maker, Lex, came from the bottom of my heart and you never use it. I'm keeping it."

"You wouldn't dare." He preferred his coffee black, but he hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings. His sister and cousins loved their coffee smothered with milk and cream. "I love that machine."

"Oh, you do?"

"Bring it back, Paula." He grinned when she laughed and said she was on her way.

Lex disconnected the call and studied the folder. Part of him wanted to open it and read everything about Jillian Finnegan. A resume didn't give an insight into a person's character. That was the kind of thing you learned as you got to know them, and he meant to get to know Jillian in every possible way. He also had a rule about doing a thorough background check on everyone he did business with, except this wasn't business.

Lex turned, walked to the coffee table, and dropped the folder on top of a pile of nature magazines. Anything he learned about Jillian Finnegan was going to come directly from her, not a resume.

~*~

Jillian threw the keys in the tray by her door and kicked off her shoes. She started unbuttoning her shirt before she reached her bedroom. She was still hurt and... really, really pissed.

She stood under the hot spray and swore, imagining her brothers cringing. She'd learned to curse from them, yet they acted like she was insane to copy them.

Well, screw them!

How dare they want to kick her out? They were supposed to stand up to their father. Be her champions. Even Ricky had said she was the best. She'd tried to guilt him into confessing, but he'd zipped out the door before she could say anything. Ricky could never keep a secret. Worse, her father had been asleep, leaving her no reason to linger by his bed.

Why didn't he want her back riding? What was he thinking borrowing money from seedy characters? She screamed in frustration.

The shower didn't make her feel better. She needed a plan, something that would make her father see that he needed her. Cash her stocks and bonds? Refinance her condo? She might get eighty. Maybe a hundred grand. But that wouldn't be enough. Not by a long stretch. Chris had drilled into her to always save something for rainy days. In her line of business, sometimes it didn't just rain. It poured. No stunts meant no pay. Or you could be on top of the world one minute, the next broken up like a China doll because some idiot stunt coordinator's assistant made a mistake.

No, she didn't want to cash in her retirement monies even though she felt like she was in the middle of a hurricane. She needed more work. Shorter gigs with huge pay checks. She tried not to overlap jobs, but she could work evenings and on days when she wasn't filming. Then there were weekends when they weren't shooting at a location.

She needed to talk to her agent.

Yanking on a bathrobe, Jillian left the bathroom and bent over to pick up her jacket from the floor, almost slipping on the wooden surface. One of these days, she was going to carpet the whole place instead of using area rugs. The problem was she loved her love nest the way it was. Bold colors on the windows, pillows, and rugs. Candles and canopy bed curtains. It suited her. She plopped on top of her bed and removed her cell.

She had missed a call from Greg. Nice. Maybe he already had something lined up for her. She got comfortable on her many pillows and swept a hand across the missed call.

"I'm happy you called back, Jill," Greg said. He was a fast talker, who got excited even over the smallest of parts and always saw a silver lining in every role, which made him a great agent. His firm had over a hundred clients, most of them kids.

"That's funny, G," Jillian said. "I was just about to call you. What's going on? Why are you whispering?"

"Am I? Oh, okay." His voice returned to normal. "I have a job for you. Something you can do while filming your present segments."

Jillian sat up. "No way. I was just thinking about that. What kind of job?"

"Acting."

She sighed. "I'm trying to get away from acting, G. Doesn't JLo or Beyoncé need a female security guard while in L.A.? Maybe an overindulgent pop star's planning a birthday party and needs girls in bikinis to mud-wrestle? I need something that makes tons of money in the shortest amount of time."

He laughed nervously. "You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding."

"What do you think? People see me and assume I'm a defenseless female, until I disarm them. And don't say I can't handle a real gun because I'm licensed to pack, _and_ I can dismantle and put one back together faster than most security guards these movie stars employ."

Greg groaned. "Yeah, I've heard about the way you pass time at the set. Quit showing off and listen, Jill. We have a new client. Terms are negotiable, and the hours are flexible. The best part is he's willing to work around your schedule."

"You had me at a _new client_."

"The guy doesn't make a move without a slew of lawyers, yet he flew out to Glendale personally to discuss you. I'm not too thrilled that he's taken over my office and has my secretary running around doing his bidding, but your portfolio must have impressed him because he wants to work with you and no one else."

Jillian grinned. He must have heard about her mad skills. "Is Chris on board? You know I don't work with any stunt coordinator except him."

"I told him the same thing, but he said you won't need Chris."

She frowned. "What kind of gig is it?"

"He won't tell me." Greg sounded pouty. He went back to whispering. "He insists on talking to you in person first. He wants to meet with you tomorrow evening. Are you filming?"

"I'm done for the week. When and where am I meeting him?"

"Eros. Seven o'clock."

Eros was an exclusive, new restaurant on Melrose, and everyone she knew claimed they served the best seafood in the greater Los Angeles area. To her, seafood was like any food. Not to Chris and Greg. They'd met at a seafood restaurant. Greg insisted they were reaching for the same crab leg. So romantic.

A few months ago, she had tried to get them a reservation at Eros for their anniversary and learned that she had to wait a month to get one. Obviously, her new client had serious connections to get a reservation on such short notice.

"Does this client have a name?" Jillian asked.

"Didn't I tell you? His name is Alexander Fitzgerald, a real estate billionaire that rivals the toupee-wearing dude, except he has better taste. Remember the art studio in Venice you were admiring during your last shoot? He did that. He restores old buildings. Even his new ones add something to their surroundings. His family is very prominent. His brothers and uncles..."

Jillian had gone into selective listening as soon as Greg had mentioned Lex's name. Billionaire, huh? He hadn't dressed like one, but he had a presence and the arrogance she associated with the privileged.

She wasn't surprised Greg knew about the Fitzgeralds. He lived and breathed gossip blogs, magazines, and _L.A. Times_ Seen & Heard pages. Like most agents, he had to be on top of things in Hollywood—who attended what and with whom, and who got snubbed. She was the opposite. Couldn't care less.

"He's still there, isn't he?" she asked.

"Yes. How do you know?" Greg asked.

"You're whispering, G, which means you're in the cave." The cave was really a giant walk-in closet. Greg was a creature of habit. He hid in his closet when he didn't want to talk to a client, or when he wanted to discuss a client with Chris.

"Maybe you can ask him what this job is about," Greg said. "The suspense is killing me."

_Me too._ "Okay. Let me talk to him."

Jillian jumped up and paced as she waited for Lex. How was she going to deal with him? And how had he found her? He hadn't bothered to ask for her name. And just because she'd turned him down didn't mean he had to come up with a lame excuse to see her again. She needed a real job, not to play games with bored billionaires.

What was she thinking? Men like him didn't play games. They made money. Lots and lots of it, and she needed some yesterday. He probably had people bending over backward to do his biddings. She, unfortunately, was never good at bending over backward or forward. No, not true. She was pretty nimble from years of gymnastics and dance as her exes would testify. She just didn't suck up to people.

Talking to Lex Fitzgerald would require a nicely-worded opening line, which wasn't her strongest point. She spoke her mind and went with her instincts. It didn't help that Lex was gifted with everything that made him so damn alluring to women. Wealth. Good looks. Charm. Bet he was great in bed, too. Or not. Jillian giggled at her naughty thoughts. He probably gave orders and didn't know how to let go.

"Jillian?"

She tried to steel herself against the effect of that smooth, sexy voice of his. She really tried and failed miserably. She closed her eyes, savoring its effect on her. Then she opened her mouth and words poured out.

"I will not allow you to bully my agent, Lex. I said no to dinner, and I meant it."

A slow chuckle answered her. "If I bullied your agent, I was not aware of it. Just a second." Then she heard him apologize to Greg before coming back on the line. "I have a job for you."

An arrogant billionaire who apologizes? That thought steadied her. "Let me guess. You were so impressed by my riding skills you've decided I should test-ride your bikes?"

"No. I believe we have people doing that sort of thing."

"You _believe_? You don't strike me as someone who doesn't know every aspect of his company?"

He chuckled. "I do, except Leeds belongs to my cousin, not me. I'm just helping him iron out a few snags."

_Hmm, wonder what the few snags were and how he's ironing them?_ "So if this is not about my stunts, what's going on? You need a bodyguard? If Greg didn't mention it, I'm licensed to carry a gun and I'm a fourth degree black belt in Karate."

A chuckle, then, "I'm listening."

"At the right fee, I can stop any man, woman, or uh..." She couldn't say child. That would be insensitive. Besides, she adored kids. "Or aliens from getting to you."

This time, she got a laugh from him. "Aliens?"

"They're around. We just don't know it, or don't want to admit it. Anyway, are you serious about this bodyguard thing?"

"Absolutely," he said firmly. "It will take a lot of acting, blending in, and pretending to be something you're not."

_Ah, that must be where her acting abilities are needed._ The problem was she sucked at acting. Tried it and failed. She was better at escaping unscathed from mayhem, a stuntwoman.

"Then your safety will be my number one priority twenty-four seven. No one will know exactly what I am or see me coming." She still wasn't buying this. "Why me? There're lots of security companies around with muscle-for-hire."

"I thought we were discussing this over dinner?"

It was time to play it cool, not the desperate woman willing to make a quick buck to save her family's business. "I have to make sure you're legit before I agree to a dinner."

"Your agent vouched for me."

"My agent is intimidated by you. No, awed by your mere presence and your family." She hoped she inferred she wasn't. Actually, she was more than awed and intimidated by Lex Fitzgerald. It was a lot easier to talk to him when there were several cities between them than across a table. His ability to fluster her was a phenomenon she planned to analyze when she wasn't listening to his sexy voice.

"So why me?" she asked again.

"I've tried hiring private security firms, but I'm dealing with a breed of threat that's subtle and tenacious." A creaking sound followed, and Jillian was sure it came from Greg's chair. It tended to squeak when someone leaned forward. "You see, in my line of business, reputation is everything. Any hint of a scandal and my competitors get an edge on a bid or negotiations stall."

"I see." She sat on the edge of her bed. She still wasn't sure he was serious. "Actually, I don't. Where do I come in?"

"I'm talking about women, Jillian. I smile at one and they think it gives them the right to slip into my bedroom during a party, hide in the closet until my guests leave, or bribe the doorman. And my poor driver is never sure whether a woman is serious about him because they're not above seducing him to get to me or distracting him while their friends slide in the back of my car."

And he was complaining? Most men would just go with the flow. That said a lot about him. "Poor man."

"Thank you," Lex said.

"I meant your driver."

"I don't get any sympathy?"

_Stop being so damn irresistible._ "Why? You're getting all the girls."

He chuckled. "No, I'm not. I have to be polite, send them home, and put up with their husbands at the club. You have no idea how often I've stepped out of the shower to find a naked socialite in my bed. Or two. The last straw was the triplets."

Jillian's imagination had kicked into high gear the moment Lex mentioned walking out of the shower. Was he a terry robe man or a "towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets glistening on his chiseled, broad chest" man?

"Triplets?" Jillian whispered, her mind still enjoying the images in Naughty Land.

"Long story," Lex said. "The bottom line is I need a female bodyguard to stop this kind of thing from happening. Someone who can make sure I'm not subjected to nude selfies on my phone, not accosted as I enter or leave a restaurant or my building, or served with frivolous lawsuits for alleged sexual misconduct. In other words, I need you, Jillian Finnegan."

Geez, what a way to spoil a woman's wicked imagination. "You get nude selfies? Lucky guy."

He chuckled. "I'm not. My number is unlisted and is only known to family members."

Then his family was trying to get him hitched. She was still not buying anything he said. "Sounds like you really need a bodyguard."

"Twenty-four seven. How much do you charge?"

She'd never guarded anyone, but she needed three hundred and fifty large ones ASAP. One week's pay, and her family problems would go bye-bye. The sum she was thinking was outrageous, but she figured if a sitcom actress could get a million per episode, fifty grand for several hours a day wasn't bad. Plus she didn't have a script. She had to improvise.

"How much, Jillian?" Lex asked impatiently.

"Fifty grand a day. That's three-fifty a week." She cringed and waited for his laugh or a _hell no_.

Lex whistled instead, and she could imagine his gray eyes narrowing. "That's a bit steep, don't you think?"

"I'm worth it. I can improvise, and I'm discrete. Besides, women love me. I'm what they call non-threatening." Most actresses weren't threatened by stuntwomen. "However, I'll give you a discount if you're thinking long-term. Twenty percent." Which she hoped he wasn't. Men like him didn't stay single for long. "Since we're in the middle of filming _Terra Frost_ , we do have to work around my schedule." And she had her Phantom Rider nights, which he must never know about.

There was silence on the line, then, "And for a year?"

Was he serious? The amount would be staggering. Millions. "Still twenty percent and three-hundred-and-fifty thousand in cash the moment I sign the contract."

More silence. She waited for him to call her bluff.

"That sounds reasonable," Lex said calmly as though she hadn't just asked for an insane amount of money, the kind she'd never earn in Hollywood. "Let's discuss the details over dinner, shall we?"

He _was_ serious. Just how loaded was this guy?

Jillian blew out a breath, the relief coursing through her was so sweet she almost yahooed. She was desperate for any gig, and this was it. She now had twenty-four hours to mentally prepare herself for a one-on-one with Lex. Somehow, she didn't think she'd be ready. But she would try. Physically, she had to find a way to dampen his effect on her senses. Maybe she'd think of him and prune-faced socialite triplets. Jillian smothered a giggle.

"Jillian?"

"Sounds good, but I have plans for tomorrow evening." The Phantom was riding again, and that was one date she refused to cancel. "Can we make it lunch or maybe meet in your office?"

"I'll be out of town during the day, until evening. What are you doing tonight?"

"Uh, nothing."

"Then let's have dinner tonight." His voice changed timbre from indulgent and amused to sexy and hypnotic. "I'll send my car for you. Is six-thirty okay?"

Jillian's brain scrambled to come up with an excuse. She couldn't possibly meet him today. She wasn't ready.

"Yes," she said.

"Great." She heard amusement in his voice.

"Do you need my address?"

"No, I'll get it from Mr. Underwood. See you this evening, Jillian."

Greg was back on the line while Jillian was still trying to figure out how she'd gone from needing more time to prepare for their meeting to agreeing to see him tonight. The man had a way of making her agree with him before she knew what she was saying. He must have placed some spell on her, which didn't bode too well for a working relationship.

"Let me call you back in ten minutes." Greg's voice implied he'd said something, but she hadn't heard it.

Scowling, Jillian put her cell phone in the pocket of her robe and padded to the kitchen. She paused in the middle of the room, not exactly sure why she was there. Her stomach churned and her mind was pure goo. What was she thinking agreeing to meet Lex Fitzgerald tonight? What was she going to wear?

She turned around and went straight to her closet. There should be something decent beside the jeans and the tees. Nothing that screamed perfect-for-dinner-with-a-billionaire. She checked her watch. She had less than three hours. Maybe she should go shopping and buy something nice. Do her hair and nails.

Her phone went off, and she jumped. Jeez, she was a hot mess. "Greg?"

"So what's the job?"

"He wants a bodyguard."

"What? You mean he wants you to _act_ the part of a bodyguard?"

"No, he wants a real bodyguard."

"Did you brag to him you're licensed to carry guns?" Greg sounded outraged and worried at the same time. He was a pacifist by nature and hated guns with a passion. His parents and only sister were gunned down during a break-in at their home when he was in his late teens.

"No, G. No guns. He's been having problems with women." She quickly explained Lex's problems. "I agreed to be available to him for, I don't know, as long as he needs me. We'll iron out the details later tonight."

"Sweetheart, what that man needs is a wife, not a bodyguard," Greg said.

"Yes, well, I'm in no position to provide him with one, so bodyguard it is. Did he tell you he changed the meeting to tonight?"

"Yes. We'll be there."

Safety in numbers. Good.

"But we won't sit with you," Greg added.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice rising.

"He got us a reservation, Jill, but we won't eat with you. We'll get together tomorrow to finalize the details. He mentioned he'd be out of town but he plans to be back by five. I told him how you tried to get us a table for our last anniversary and couldn't get in, and he made one phone call and _voila!_ We're in. Can you believe that? Chris and I have been dying to..."

Jillian tuned Greg out. He tended to go off on a tangent anyway. Lex had surprised her again. She could pretend and say she hated the ease with which Lex got his way or accomplished things, but she'd be lying to herself. She was impressed. He obviously didn't let obstacles or people keep him from his goals. He'd wanted her to have dinner with him tonight, and it was going to happen.

On the other hand, he didn't have to get Greg and Chris that reservation, yet he had. What other surprises did the billionaire have in store for her?

CHAPTER 4

Lex watched the rooftops, his thoughts on Jillian. Her sexy voice still rang in his ear, arousing him in ways he never knew possible. At age thirty-nine, he hated the idea that he couldn't control his body at the mere thought of a woman.

He'd bedded his share of beautiful women, even contemplated marrying one, but this was the first time in years he could say a woman had him enthralled. She was smart, a quick-thinker, and outrageous. She made him laugh. He couldn't believe his luck when she'd suggested the bodyguard job. It had made things easier. With a different actress, he would have offered a simple business deal. But Jillian...

Ahh, she was prickly. He had no doubt that one false word from him and she would have hung up. He'd learned quite a bit about her during their conversation. It would have been better studying her expressions and body language, but her responses had given him a glimpse into her mind, her character as a person, what made her tick. He liked her. Lex grinned.

Before money was mentioned during their conversation, Lex had been fantasizing about her, wondering if her wheat-spun hair was as soft as it looked. Now he imagined it spread out on the pillow as she writhed with passion, his hands on her skin, his fingers stroking her intimately. She had the kind of lips that could drive a man insane. Lips meant to be licked, sucked, and worshipped. On the other hand, they could be doing the worshipping.

Lex shifted uneasily in his seat, blood rushing to his groin as his thoughts became graphic. He'd better focus on something else fast.

What did she want with three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash? No one asked for that unless they were planning to do something that left no paper trail. Was she in trouble? One phone call and he'd have his security team on the case, digging into her background. But like his earlier decision, he didn't want to pry. He wanted her to trust him and willingly share personal things.

The chopper descended to the helipad on the rooftop of his building.

"Thanks, Mathews," he told the pilot before he stepped down.

"Will you need me tonight, sir?"

"No. File a flight plan for tomorrow. See you at nine." Mathews was the only full-time pilot he employed. He and a co-pilot from a nearby temp company often flew the jet when Lex, members of his company, or family were headed out of town. He was also in charge of the chopper when necessary. Though licensed, Lex only flew when Mathews was off duty.

Lex left the roof and headed for the lower stairs. The upper ones led to the penthouse. Paula met him before he reached the side door leading into the building."

"Ryo Hujimura called," she said. "He wants to have a teleconference."

Lex glanced at his watch. It was four in the afternoon, but eight in Tokyo. Ryo, Yoshi Hujimura's son, was usually in his office by six, which was the time the two of them talked. Something wasn't right.

"Is that why you're meeting me out here looking"—he studied her, rattled came to mind, but he wouldn't dare say it—"worried?"

"Your cousin is here, and he's not happy. He called earlier, but when I explained that you were not to be interrupted when in a meeting, he hung up. Now he's here."

The way she said "your cousin" could only mean one person—Eddie. He tended to rub people the wrong way. He had no filter when pissed. Lex indicated the door, and Paula walked ahead of him.

"Can you explain to him that I wasn't stonewalling him? I like it better when he's not scowling so ferociously," Paula added.

Lex stopped himself from chuckling. Paula was old school and tough as nails, but something about Eddie often made her hold back. They entered the executive floor and headed to his office. Fitz-Valdez owned real estate across the country with offices in San Francesco, Chicago, and New York, but the head office was in L.A. The properties managed by the company were vast, including hotels on several islands in the Caribbean.

"I'll call Tokyo after I'm done with Eddie." Lex disappeared inside his office. Business was important, but family always came first.

His cousin stood at the window with his back to the door, staring at the view of downtown L.A. He turned, relief sweeping his face. Usually, he wore a poker face, something he'd perfected during his years as an LAPD detective.

"Is everything okay?" Lex asked.

"Lloyd is having problems meeting our deadline," he said, coming straight to the point.

Lloyd owned a fiberglass company in Tomahawk, Wisconsin. He was the number one producer of fiberglass body components for bikes in the country.

"When did you talk to him?" Lex walked to the wet bar to pour himself a glass of water.

"An hour ago, but I spoke to the contact, Butler. I couldn't get an answer from him. When I tried to call you, your secretary stonewalled me."

Lex heard the frustration in Eddie's voice. As someone new to business, he took each delay and bump personally. "Paula has a knack for reading people, and you're still an enigma. Next time, smile."

"I did, and she hightailed it out of the office."

Lex chuckled. That he would have liked to see. "Paula didn't stonewall you. I was at an important meeting and couldn't take personal calls." He pressed the intercom. "Paula, get Lloyd Jenkins on the line." He glanced at Eddie. "Want a drink?"

"No, I'll pass." Still scowling, Eddie grabbed a seat. Not one of the four across from Lex's massive desk. He chose the sofa near the coffee table.

"Mr. Fitzgerald," Lloyd's booming voice with a mid-west accent filled the office. "What can I do for you?"

"I've been informed there's a problem with Leeds' order."

The man laughed. "No, no, sir. That was a misunderstanding, which has been resolved. The warehouse manager assumed he was dealing with Montenegro's people."

Lex exchanged a look with Eddie. Montenegro was their competitor. The Seattle-based motorcycle company had launched their first bike three months after Leeds unveiled the Road King. They'd been going after Leeds' suppliers, and Montenegro was a competitor Lex planned to squash or push permanently into second position where they belonged. Third if he included Harley-Davidson. They might be a long way from being like the giant company, but he planned to find a niche for Leeds bikes.

"Everything's on schedule," Lloyd continued. "The parts will be shipped on schedule."

"Good. One of my people is flying out first thing tomorrow morning to make sure everything goes smoothly. He's my closer. Once he signs off on the order, he's authorized to place the next one." 'Or not' was implied. Lex understood the mentality of businessmen like Lloyd. Once they knew you didn't trust them blindly, they did the right thing.

"I look forward to meeting your man and doing more business with you, Mr. Fitzgerald."

Lex terminated the call, then asked his secretary to get Daniel Brimberry.

"Brimberry lives for this kind of thing," he explained to Eddie, who watched his every movement with a quiet intensity. "Lloyd's people will know we mean business when he's through with them."

A knock on the door and a tall African-American stuck his head into the room. He nodded at Eddie then focused on Lex. "You wanted me, sir?"

"I need you in Tomahawk, Danny. One of our deals is about to go south."

"Leeds or Fitz?"

"Leeds. Paula will fill you in. They expect you there tomorrow. Make sure they're not jerking us around. If you're happy with the results, you know the drill."

"I'm authorized to place the next order, got it." The door closed behind the guy.

A chuckle from Eddie drew Lex's attention. "What?" he asked.

"I'd hate to be your enemy, man."

Lex shrugged. "Lloyd just needs a nudge to do the right thing. All the other parts should be delivered in the next couple of months." Like most bike makers in the country, they bought parts from all over the world. Unlike others, they built the bikes here in their factory in Arcadia. Even though Eddie and his team of engineers had designed the engines of the first several bikes from the ground up, an Australian company was building them in bulk. It was time and cost effective. Figel Auto had an automated system and a reputation for following specifications.

Eddie nodded. "How are the negotiations with Hujimura?"

"We're trying to tie the order with distribution, and that's delaying things." Eddie didn't need to know that the old man was in negotiation with Montenegro, too. The original company in Japan produced brake components, but the branches across Asia and South America, run by the son, were the most reliable distributors with ships docking rights here in L.A., San Francisco, and New York. Lex had approached them for distribution and realized son and father worked together, except the father was still the CEO. He would rather deal with the son, a modern thinker.

"In fact, Ryo and I are having a teleconference in"—he checked at his watch—"five minutes. Do you want to join us?"

"Nah." Eddie jumped to his feet. "I leave the wheeling and dealing to you. I'm on my way home. Oh, Amy wants you to come over for dinner. Are you free today or tomorrow?"

Lex's eyes narrowed. He'd been receiving dinner invitations from his siblings more than usual. "Has she been talking to my mother?"

Eddie's eyebrows slammed down. "I don't know. I think so. Why?"

"Is Amy inviting a friend?"

"Her friend from Idaho is visiting." Eddie made a face. "She talks nonstop."

Lex groaned. "I've been getting dinner invitations from everyone. Ashley, Jade, Faith, even Kara insisted, but Baron warned me to stay away because Mom was behind it. The dinners have one thing in common."

"A girlfriend who just happens to be visiting the same evening and is single. I'll tell her you're busy," Eddie said, heading out the door. "Let me know what Hujimura decides. If that doesn't work out, we could always go with Brembo in Italy. They have a solid reputation for their brakes. HD uses their components."

Lex nodded. He could hint at Brembo during his talks with Hujimura, but he wanted them for distribution too, which was more important. "That might prove to be useful."

As soon as Eddie left, Lex pressed a button and a screen lowered. He dialed Tokyo.

~*~

Three hours later, Jillian entered the restaurant and Lex's breath stalled in his lungs. She wore a bold red dress that hugged every curve on her body. From her glossy hair tumbling down her back to the black heels, she owned the room. Glazed eyes followed her, confirming he wasn't the only man wishing they owned her.

She was his. She just didn't know it yet.

Lex stood when the hostess nodded in his direction, and Jillian's eyes found him. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, and even from afar, he noticed the tinge of color creep into her cheeks. She was a contradiction, a spitfire siren, yet she could switch in a heartbeat and show vulnerability. He liked that.

Eros' cocktail lounge was packed with guests waiting to be seated, but Lex had claimed a corner couch after chatting with the chef, the hostess making sure no one shared his table. For the past fifteen minutes, he'd cooled his heels and ignored the glances from other patrons. Some women were worth breaking a few rules, he'd decided.

He started across the lounge. A little closer and her warmth and feminine scent sent heat straight to his groin. His cock responded.

"Hey," she said, eyes meeting his squarely. The pulse at the base of her neck beat furiously, indicating she wasn't as calm as she looked.

He wanted to lean down and press his lip on that pulse, but he settled for a kiss on the back of her hand. "I'm happy you made it. You look beautiful."

"Thank you. You cleaned up well, too." She looked down at his custom-made shoes. "But I miss the scruffy boots."

He chuckled. "Why?"

"They made you more approachable," she said bluntly.

He liked her honesty. "They're in the back of the car. I can go put them on if they'll make you feel more comfortable."

She glanced around the room and wrinkled her nose, the simple reaction adorable. Her eyes came back to him. "No, I'm good. All this can grow on me."

He wasn't sure whether she meant the opulence of the restaurant with its clientele or his dinner attire. A nod from the hostess and he cupped Jillian's elbow. "Our table is ready." He steered her toward the stairs. "Did Douglas find your home okay?"

"Yes. When you said you'd send a car, I'd expected a limo." She met his gaze, her turquois eyes luminous with laughter.

"I'll try to be accommodating next time," he said.

She laughed, the pure joy in the sound drawing the attention of the customers. It didn't help that they'd started up the stairs and the entire room, from the lounge to the eating area, could see them. He wanted to capture her laugh with a kiss.

"Limos are so Hollywood, and I have a thing about Phantoms." She chuckled as though enjoying a private joke. "What kind of engine do they have? What's the power delivery? The engine was so quiet, the acceleration seamless. Uh, what?" she asked, and Lex realized he was staring.

Once again, his toy was getting more attention. This time, it was his latest acquisition, a Rolls Royce Phantom, courtesy of a British friend and a supplier of luxury cars. "Would you like to go outside and take a look under the hood before we eat?"

Her eyes lit up. "Really? Can I?"

"Sure."

She opened her mouth, and he was sure she meant to say yes, but then she closed it and studied the people waiting in the lounge below before meeting his eyes. "Later. I don't want to hold up a table when people are waiting to be seated."

Beautiful and considerate. She wasn't going to be thrilled by what was waiting for them upstairs. He'd secured a private room just for the two of them. The more time he spent in her presence the more he wanted her to himself. Her fascination with engines was a big turn on. He couldn't wait to see her reaction to his vintage cars. He'd probably have an orgasm watching her. No, he wanted to get dirty with her, messing around with engines, and then make love to her in the midst of it all.

Oblivious to his naughty thoughts, she said, "I like your driver, Mr. Douglas."

Lex chuckled. "Just Douglas."

"His first name is Just?"

He chuckled and continued leading her up the stairs, loving their closeness and the fact that she didn't try to pull away. "Why do you like him?"

"He quotes Nietzsche," she said. "And he blushed while answering my questions."

"What questions?"

"Oh, you know. This and that. Don't worry. I didn't bring up the women and the socialites in bed."

Now she was teasing him. Upstairs was a smaller bar, but instead of a lounge, arched doorways led to private dining areas. The bartender nodded when their eyes met, then went back to chatting with the lone woman leaning against the counter. The bar had no stools.

Lex led Jillian to the right, past archways leading to private rooms with about ten to twenty guests. Most preferred outdoor seating on the balcony. They reached the corner room where the hostess—who'd gone ahead of them—waited by a single table set for two. He'd chosen indoor seating for privacy, but closer to the window for the view of Beverly Hills. The room was smaller and cozier than the others, all the other tables and chairs discreetly put away.

"Your server will be with you shortly, Mr. Fitzgerald," the woman said, curiously studying Jillian before leaving the room. It wasn't often Lex brought a woman here.

He pulled out a chair for Jillian before taking the seat across from hers. Light from the sconces bathed her exquisite features and added a golden hue to her skin. Wisps of hair caressed her cheeks, and a lone lock had escaped and was touching the corner of her mouth. He reached out and gently swept it out of the way. She didn't flinch, although her pupils widened slightly. He knew enough about women to know when one was attracted to him. Jillian was. He'd felt it at the gas station and now as she met his gaze. He liked that she wasn't backing away or acting coy. She had guts, which she'd need to deal with his family.

She gave him a tiny smile. "You're staring."

Would she still be smiling once he told her his real plans? His gut told him she would not overreact. They both wanted something the other could offer.

"I'm sure you're used to it," he said, leaning back against his seat and straightening his tie.

Her eyes followed his hand, and for some reason, she blushed again. One perfectly trimmed eyebrow rose. "Because of my profession?"

"No, because you're a breathtaking woman."

Jillian chuckled and ducked her head. Ahh, compliments made her uneasy. Interesting. He waited as she glanced around, anticipating a question about their privacy. She didn't disappoint.

"Why are we the only ones here?" Her voice had gone sultry.

"I want us to talk without distraction and eavesdroppers." He leaned forward and stretched his legs underneath the table. Their legs touched briefly before she shifted. "And the owner was kind enough to give us this room."

"And Greg and Chris?"

"They're downstairs. I understand they're celebrating something."

"Belated anniversary." Jillian bit her lip and cut him a look from under her lashes. "You know you just became his favorite client."

"Client. Does that mean you're taking the job?"

"Only if you agree to my terms."

"Done."

She laughed. "You haven't heard all of them yet."

"I'm very accommodating when I want something." His eyes went to her lips before locking gazes with her. "I'm sure we'll come to a mutual agreement. I do have some terms you need to meet, too."

Her eyes narrowed, but before she could speak, the waiter appeared. The man forgot what he was doing when she smiled, and he spilled the water. Lex didn't blame him. Her smile was breathtaking. The man apologized profusely as he cleaned up, then discreetly stepped back to wait in the shadows.

"Why am I your agent's favorite client?" Lex asked.

"Client-to-be," she corrected. "We tried to make a reservation here for their anniversary, but they were booked solid for weeks." She tilted her head and studied him. "Yet you got a reservation without any problem."

He grinned. "Must be my charm."

"Or deep pockets," she retorted.

He liked that she wasn't shy about teasing him. "Are you implying that I bribed her?"

Grinning, she swept the rim of her water glass and placed her finger on her mouth. Hell, the way her lips wrapped around it sent his imagination down a dangerous path. Did she realize how seductive she was? Everything she did was sensual.

"I think you probably had your assistant call and ask for a table. When they told her they were booked, she dropped your name and how your patronage would benefit the restaurant, blah, blah, blah. When that didn't work, she told them you'd buy the building and boot them out."

Lex was laughing by the time she finished. "I'm not an ogre." He sipped his drink and carefully placed the glass on the table. "In fact, I sent the chef a box of very rare wine for the grand opening of the restaurant and she decided, without my say-so, to always have a room reserved for me and my, uh, guests."

"Of course you know the owner," she murmured.

"She's an exceptionally gifted cook, and I'm happy your agent and his partner can enjoy her cuisine. Next time you need a table or this"—he indicated the room with a wave—"just let me know."

He signaled the waiter. They consulted him and discussed the menu. She was gracious without being flirtatious. For an appetizer, she ordered cauliflower soup while he started with pan-seared day boat scallop atop cauliflower puree and caviar. Lex noticed a change come over Jillian.

Impatient to find out why, he barely listened to the waiter's recommendations, but she did and chose. He went for his usual—wild Norwegian cod. As soon as the waiter left, a sommelier rolled a cart with various wines. He consulted with the guy, chose the perfect wine for their meal, and dismissed him.

Lex went back to studying Jillian. She'd shut him out, and he wanted to know why. Her eyes were cooler, the sparkle gone. "Was it something I said?"

She sipped her water and gave him an innocent smile. "What do you mean?"

"If you want something else, I can call the waiter back. They won't mind. In fact, they're paid to be accommodating to impossible-to-please clients."

"I'm very easy to please. How often do you eat here?"

"Whenever I'm spending the night in town, which is not that often." He wanted the sparkle back in her eyes. "Why stunts?"

She shrugged. "My mother was in the business. I'd watch her in awe as she performed and knew I wanted to be just like her. She always pushed the limit." A smile curled her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. "She was the best."

"You speak of her in past tense. Is she retired now?"

"She died when I was sixteen." She sipped her water again.

"So your father raised you?"

"My step-father." Her eyes softened, but the sparkle was still missing. In fact, he could say she looked sad.

"Do you enjoy Hollywood?"

"Love it. The glitter and the glam, otherwise I wouldn't have chosen the profession."

Lex had a knack for reading people, which was handy in his line of work. Jillian's entire demeanor said she was lying through her teeth. "So doing stunts is a stepping stone to an Oscar-worthy part?"

She gave an unladylike snort, eyes flashing. "Doing stunts can beat acting parts any day. Actors follow scripted lines and squeeze a few fake tears..." Her eyes widened in horror. "I, uh, like live performances. Improvising." She covered her eyes and moaned.

"Don't stop." He pulled down her hands and trapped them under his. Her hands were small and delicate, her nail polish matching her dress. She kept her nails short. Practical. That surprised him. She didn't act like the practical type. "Go on."

She pouted. "Did I blow my chances for getting the job?"

"No. I want someone who doesn't follow the script, and the ability to improvise is at the top of my list of requirements."

She tilted her head to the side. "You said you had terms."

The waiter was gone to get their first course, leaving them alone, so he could talk freely. "Yes. First, you must be single."

Her eyebrows shot up. "And if I'm not."

He'd steal her from the faceless man. "Are you seeing someone?"

Her eyes narrowed. "No, but that doesn't mean I'll not meet someone next week or... How long are you going to need me?"

"A year."

She blinked. "Seriously? You need a bodyguard for a year?"

"No, Jillian." Lex decided he was done being evasive. "I need a wife."

CHAPTER 5

Jillian prided herself on never letting anything or anyone shock her, but Lex had just sucked the breath out of her lungs and driven thoughts from her mind. Then all sorts of possible explanations flashed through her head like a tsunami.

It was a joke.

She was dreaming.

No, she couldn't be.

Lex was seated across from her in his custom-tailored dinner jacket, sexy smile on his lips, and those gorgeous gray eyes fixed expectantly on her. How did he expect her to react? Jump and kick her feet in joy? It was the kind of offer that could either make a woman very happy, if he loved her, or question his sanity. Like she was doing now.

She could just see the headlines:

Crazy Billionaire Buys a Wife for Millions of Dollars.

No, Lex Fitzgerald was too powerful and too industrious to be insane. Eccentric? Maybe. Playing mind games? Definitely. The man ordered caviar like most people ordered burgers and fries. It didn't matter that she hated the taste of caviar. Men like him didn't marry women like her.

"Your wife?" Jillian managed to say when she could speak calmly without screeching.

"A fake, temporary wife," he corrected and leaned forward, bringing closer that potent sensual aura he oozed. Her reaction to it was the same—warmth unfurled deep in her belly and her heart did that stupid murmur as though trying to find its rhythm.

"Allow me to explain," he added, totally oblivious to the effect he had on her.

"Oh, please do, because from our earlier discussion, you said you wanted a bodyguard. A _bodyguard,_ Lex. Someone to shield you from unwanted attention from other women." It had sounded ridiculous over the phone, and it sounded worse now. "At no time during that discussion did you mention the word _wife_ , temporary or... otherwise." Her voice trailed off when he picked up her hand. Funny how his touch could be so stimulating at times and other times so calming. Like now.

He nodded. "Shielding a husband is essentially what a wife does. Nothing stops other women more than a beautiful woman with your ring and rights to your time and body."

He just had to go there, didn't he? A wife would have a right to touch him, kiss him, and ride that gorgeous body of his whenever and wherever. She didn't want to be thinking about such things now, not when he wasn't asking for a real wife.

"Bodyguards and wives are two very different, uh, things." His thumb stroked the sensitive skin between her fingers, completely distracting. He had large hands, long fingers, and neatly trimmed nails. She imagined those hands on her body, teasing her. Pleasing her. Heat shot between her legs. Jillian yanked her hand from his and placed it on her lap.

If her action bothered Lex, he didn't show it. His voice was gentle when he spoke. "I personally believe that husbands and wives protect each other. I didn't mean to mislead you when we spoke earlier, Jillian." He peered at her. "I needed to know what kind of person you are. Call our phone conversation an audition if you like. I had to know how you'd react in certain situations. If you had what it takes to be my wife."

"To _act_ as your wife," she corrected him. Audition made sense, but she still didn't like being blindsided. "I'm not an actress, Lex. I'm a stuntwoman. My audition was me beating you during that ride on Ortega Highway."

He chuckled. "You didn't beat me. I let you ride ahead and had every intention of finding out who you are and how to reach you."

Jillian studied him. "Why?"

"I was looking for an actress for hire."

She hadn't expected that. "You went to that field to find a temporary wife?"

"Narrow down the list was more like it. Nothing like watching someone in action and unaware to know exactly what kind of person they are."

Jillian gave an unladylike snort. Around the set, everyone acted fake. "Let me see if I've got this right. You had a _list_ of actresses you planned to interview for this part you're offering me?"

"Yes."

"Was I, uh, on the list?"

"No." No apologies or hesitation. "But after we met, I tossed it."

Presumptuous of him to assume she would accept his proposal. On the other hand, it was flattering he'd been impressed by her... what? Looks? She'd been in full stunt gear, makeup, and wig when they'd met. And by the time she'd changed, he'd already left. She wondered when he'd chucked the list.

"You may have to retrieve that list, Lex. I suck at acting," Jillian said.

"But that's where you're wrong. You are a natural."

The waiter appeared with their appetizers and went about placing the bowls and plates on the table while Jillian silently came up with every possible reason to reject Lex's proposal. As soon as the waiter left the room, she pounced.

"No, I'm not. I don't follow scripts."

Lex reached up and pinned her hand. "No, Jillian. You are perfect for the part. All you have to do is be yourself. You are smart, quick-witted, and you know your self-worth. _You_ ," he stressed, "don't take crap from anyone."

Jillian gawked at him. How could he have read her so quickly? She'd had no choice but to stand up for herself at age ten when her mother married her stepfather and Jillian went from being an only child to having four boys around the house. Two brothers and two cousins. She either had to swim or sink, and she'd swum, giving the boys hell as much as they'd given it to her.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Lex asked, sounding too smug for her peace of mind. Bet he was never wrong about anything.

"No, you're wrong." She picked up her spoon and scooped the creamy soup. She needed to think. Holy smokes that tasted good. She hummed and watched Lex shift in his seat as though uncomfortable. He watched her with unnerving intensity. "What?"

"Do you always hum when you eat?" he asked in a voice gone husky.

She paused with the spoon halfway to her mouth. "Is that a deal-breaker?"

He chuckled. "No."

His utter belief in his crazy plan was mind-boggling. She watched him as he started on his appetizer, topping each piece with caviar and bringing it to his mouth. Everything about him was mesmerizing, from his wavy hair to the sensual curve of his lips. Then there was that dimple on his chin. She wanted to stroke it. Ever since she'd stepped inside his Rolls Royce and encased herself in his masculine scent and leather, she'd thought of nothing else but him.

Walking into the restaurant and watching him stand up like a sleek panther had shot her nerves to hell and back. The man had a hypnotic sensual aura mere mortals couldn't resist, and she was only human. The laid-back grace of his walk, his masculine scent, and the natural acceptance of his place at the top of the world were all designed to make a woman want him. And Jillian had wants and needs she hadn't known existed until she met Lex. She'd even started to wonder what it would be like to have all that energy and power focused on her.

Now she was searching for a reason to tell him no. Walk away.

Their eyes met, and heat sizzled between them. Then he smiled. Oh, he knew she was attracted to him. Knew and liked it. Arrogant bastard.

A bit miffed, Jillian said the first thing on her mind. "You know there are a few less Beluga in the world because of you."

Lex cocked his eyebrows. "Why?"

"You know why." She stared pointedly at his plate.

He made a face. "These are from farm-grown, not wild ones."

She sighed. "That's even worse. You make belugas suffer the indignity of being removed from their natural habitat, deprive their predators of food, and mess with the ecosystem."

Lex put his spoon down, steepled his fingers, and rested his chin on top. The tiny smile curling his lips said he knew she was deliberately yanking his chain. "What are you having there?"

"Veggie soup," she said triumphantly.

"But if my memory serves me correctly, you ordered fish."

Jillian shrugged. "It's not my fault they landed on my plate. They should have listened to Dory. She told them to... _just keep swimming... just keep swimming..._ "

Lex laughed, the sound coming straight from his gut. Jillian even forgot about being pissed at his arrogance and enjoyed the moment. Could he look any more gorgeous?

"I think Marlin said that to the other fish and saved them, not Dory," he said.

Oh, he got her joke. "Let me guess. Nemo is your favorite movie."

"My nieces'," Lex said. "We watch Nemo every time I babysit them. It's the only movie my nephews will watch without moaning about girls."

Jillian stared at him in utter disbelief. " _You_ babysit?"

"You don't have to say it like that. I happen to be everyone's favorite uncle." He went back to his food. "And my brothers, sisters, and cousins have no problem leaving them with me whenever they can't find a sitter. That's one of the things you'll help me with."

His arrogance was showing its ugly head again, but she loved kids. Probably came from being an only child the first ten years of her life and the youngest within her new family.

"What if I don't like kids?" That sounded like she was agreeing to his crazy proposal. What kind of a man would pay someone to be his wife? Not that she was complaining. Her family could use the money. And she was intrigued to be honest, possibly excited by the prospect of being close to him. Still, a woman had pride. "Would that be a deal breaker?"

"No."

She liked that he knew exactly what he wanted, and at the moment, that was her. Somehow, the thought didn't scare her. Lex with a bunch of kids was something she would love to see.

"Now I understand why everyone I know likes this place," Jillian said after the waiter replaced their appetizers with the main course. "This is amazing."

"I'll let the chef know. Try mine?" Lex extended his fork with a morsel of cod. All Jillian could think about was that the fork had been in his mouth. Her pulse quickened. "It's very good," Lex urged when she hesitated.

She opened her mouth and let him feed her. Their eyes met and locked, the moment stretching until Jillian started feeling faint. She realized she was holding her breath. How stupid. He was the first to look away, and she exhaled.

The food was exceptional. Lex kept the conversation light. He neither pushed her for an answer nor acted disappointed that she was still wavering. Every time she looked up, she caught his eyes on her. He wasn't even trying to hide his interest. How could they work together when he stared at her with such heated eyes?

Listening to him and watching the play of emotions on his face as he talked about his family, Jillian decided that pretending to be married to him might not be a bad idea. The man was interesting. And not bad-looking either. The chemistry between them was something else, but she didn't hop into bed with any man that stirred lust in her. On the other hand, sleeping with Lex a few times might fix her lustful fascination with him. Men tended to bore her in bed. They lacked imagination. At least the ones she'd dated had. Or maybe she was just too adventurous for the average Joe.

Halfway through their meal, a petite blonde paused in the doorway, wiped her hands on her pants, and entered the room. From the smile on her face, she was nervous. Something about her face seemed odd. Lex was busy sharing a story about his recent business trip and didn't realize they weren't alone until the woman spoke.

"Sorry to interrupt your dinner, Lex," the blonde said, coming to stand by their table. He started to get up, but she quickly added, "Don't get up on my account, please. I just wanted to make sure that everything tastes okay."

Despite her protest, Lex got up, palmed her arms, and planted a kiss on her cheek. The poor woman looked ready to faint.

"The food is exceptional as usual, Deanna. I want you to meet my guest, Jillian Finnegan," he indicated Jillian with a nod. "Jillian, this is our gifted chef, Deanna Marshal. She's family."

That explains the privileged treatment.

"My sister Nikki is married to his younger brother Chase," Deanna corrected, laughing as though to downplay the relationship. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Finnegan."

"Jillian, please. Your food is exceptional."

She smiled. "Thank you. If you need anything else, just tell the staff and we'll provide it." She glanced at Lex, who was still standing, and stepped back. "I'll leave you to finish your meal." She threw them another smile and quickly left.

Lex sat, but the frown on his face said he was bothered about something.

"You make her nervous," Jillian said.

"I noticed." He tilted his head sideway as he studied her. "I don't make you nervous."

He did. "No," Jillian lied, but it was time to find out the truth. She put down her fork. "Why do you need a wife, Lex? And please don't say it's raining naked socialites in your bedroom."

He grinned. "I do have problems with women," he insisted.

Who wouldn't want a taste of him? "Of course, you do. Probably started when you hit puberty, but you're now...?"

"Thirty-nine," he supplied.

"Then you must be an expert at dodging them. So why do you really need a fake wife?"

He wiped his lips with the napkin, placed it by his plate, and leaned back, his shirt stretching across his masculine chest. Nice. She found herself wondering whether he worked out. Then she realized she was staring and quickly looked at his face. He wore a smile that said he knew she'd been staring.

"When my father died," Lex started, "he asked me to watch over my brothers and sister, make sure they settled in their chosen careers. As years went by, cousins joined my immediate family because they either lost their parents or because their parents got divorced." His expression softened. "My mother can never turn anyone away. She welcomed them into our family, and they became my responsibility. I've spent the last seven years making sure each and every one of them realized their dreams."

She was impressed. "How old were you when your father died?"

"Eighteen. I grew up fast. I had to be there for my twin brothers, Chase and Baron, and my sister Jade. Then there are my cousins—Ashley, Faith, and Eddie. Everyone is settled in their lives, except Eddie."

Greg had mentioned various Fitzgerald playboys earlier before they left her place. There were even a few scandals in the family involving some of them, but Lex's name wasn't one of them. Obviously, he was the one in the background holding the family together.

"He was with the LAPD until he left the force two years ago to follow his passion—building motorcycles."

"Leeds?" Jillian whispered.

"Yes. Eddie is very gifted." There was affection and admiration in his voice as he continued. "There's no engine he cannot pull apart and modify, but he's still learning the business side of things, so he asked me to be his partner. I handle contract negotiations, while he handles the production. He has assembled the best engineers to perfect the designs of his engines."

Where did being his wife fit into all this? "So Leeds is really a combination of Eddie and your name?"

"Yes, but Leeds is his dream, his livelihood. He's newly married, a father to a little girl, and has another on the way. For a large-scale production of the bikes, we need parts. Most are produced by companies around the world."

Jillian understood only too well. She grew up listening to bike talks. Chinese or Australian wheels. Showa forks from Japan. Brakes from Italy.

"I'm in negotiation with a distributor run by a very old-fashioned man." Lex pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back. For the first time since they sat, he seemed uncomfortable. "He equates marriage with stability, reliability, and productivity, so he doesn't do business with unmarried men."

Jillian gave an unladylike snort. "What if Leeds was owned by a woman? Where did this Neanderthal crawl from?"

"Yoshi Hujimura is from Japan." Lex's face tightened, his eyebrows slamming down. "In a way, I understand where he's coming from. Single people are vulnerable, and a scandal can have a ripple effect, stalling negotiations, causing mistrust, and even affecting the reputation of businesses. Hujimura is thinking of taking his business to our competitor instead."

There weren't many bike companies in the country. Harley-Davidson was the most famous. "Who?"

"Montenegro," he said.

" _What_? That company produces third-rate bikes. Their Monte XD could be the last bike on a lot and I wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole."

His gray eyes warmed with genuine mirth. "When we unveil the next bike, I should hire you as a spokesperson."

Jillian laughed. "If it's a stunt bike, maybe you should. I'd like to meet Mr. Old-Fashioned Japan and show him what a woman can do with a bike."

Lex sobered. "If you take this job, you might just get the opportunity to do that. Montenegro brothers are all married with families. I'm not. Mr. Hujimura is visiting the U.S. next month, and he plans to tour Leeds and Montenegro."

"Sounds like you only need someone to pretend for a month."

"A year. The Hujimura contract will be renewed a year from now. Marriages don't last a month. Twelve seems feasible. After a year, we'll get divorced and go our separate ways."

Jillian's breath caught. He couldn't possibly be serious. "You want us to actually get married? Justice of Peace, vows, the whole nine yards?"

"No justice of peace." Lex spoke with resolve. "A wedding dress and a walk down the aisle. My family must never suspect our marriage is not real. My mother has a thing about marriage and about men like Yoshi Hujimura. The last thing I need is my mother coming out of retirement to prove something to the old man. We have to make everything look real. That's why I needed an actress. Three weeks of visible courtship, a quick talk with Father O'Malley, and a wedding."

Jillian blinked, her mind processing everything at a snail's pace again. Before she'd discovered bikes, she'd played wedding with her dolls. Fairy tale weddings. Then her mother had gotten married and it had zero resemblance to what she'd imagined. A local county clerk had performed the ceremony, and the only attendants had been people who worked for the Finnegans. Her brothers and cousins had followed the same tradition, so Jillian had stopped dreaming about walking down the aisle with her family watching, flower girls, her husband-to-be waiting at the front and staring at her like she was a princess, his queen...

Get it together, Jillian.

Her throat tight, Jillian reigned in her overactive imagination. This wasn't real. Lex wanted a fake wife, so the wedding would not be real. Still, it was a perfect solution to her financial problems.

"You think you can fool your family and this, uh, Mr. Hujimura?"

"With your help, yes." He leaned back, confidence written on his face. "I'm willing to pay whatever you ask."

Jillian blew out a breath. This could be an actress' dream, a nest egg. She could retire and never do stunts for some snooty Hollywood bitch ever again. Bottom line was she needed the money and he wasn't doing this for selfish reasons either. His cousin needed him.

"Okay, Lex. I'm in. I'll do it. I'm okay with the figures we discussed, but I'd like to discuss other terms."

The waiter removed their plates and another came with the dessert cart. They both declined dessert and went with coffee. Lex reached inside the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and a monogrammed pen.

"This is a rough draft of the contract. Take a look at it, add or change whatever you want. Then we'll discuss it and draw up the final draft."

~*~

Lex sipped his coffee and studied Jillian as she read the document. It was simple and to the point. He'd drafted it, not wanting his lawyers involved.

Her teeth sunk into her lower lip, making him wish he could lean forward and sooth the soft flesh. Until they decided to take their relationship to the next level, he was going to be in a constant state of arousal. She frowned, and he stopped focusing on his needs.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I can buy my own clothes," she said, throwing him a rebellious glance.

"My wife is expected to dress a certain way, otherwise people will think I'm not a generous husband."

" _Fake_ husband," she mumbled.

He chuckled. "You are not to use your money for expenses during our contract, Jillian. I have accounts you can use at various stores, and I plan to set up more in your name in stores catering to women only." She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. "This is not negotiable."

"You're a bully, Alexander."

He grinned, not in the least repentant. He knew he was being selfish and manipulating the situation, but he wanted this woman and planned to have her.

"I'm also keeping my condo."

Lex nodded. "That's a sound business move. You can rent it instead of letting it sit idle."

"It won't be idle. It will become handy for cool downs."

He didn't like the sound of that. "What's that?"

"When you piss me off and I need to vent instead of chucking something at your head." She gave him a sweet smile. "You know, anything to avoid a scandal."

He cocked his eyebrow. "I have better cool down exercises."

Pink tinged her cheeks. "Bet you do. The condo is not negotiable," she added, throwing his words back at him. Her head dipped as she read the bottom, her eyes narrowing. Then her head whipped up. She stared at him like he was crazy. "So I'm not allowed to see other men until the contract is over? For a year? Are you nuts? I have needs and I can be discrete."

Lex shrugged, but his blood boiled at the thought of her with another man. He had needs too, and he loved indulging himself. Jillian was going to be a joy to seduce.

"It's a reasonable request, Jillian. Remember, I'm trying to avoid anything that could potentially jeopardize this deal, and that includes my new wife seeing some idiot behind my back. The word _discreet_ doesn't exist in my world, sweetheart. Someone always finds out."

Her eyes narrowed. "What if I meet someone?"

Over his dead body. "You won't have time."

She laughed. "Time has nothing to do with falling in love, Lex. I could meet someone at work or on my way there."

"You don't date people in Hollywood. You told me so. And Douglas or Mathews will be with you at all times to and from work."

"No, they won't." She pointed the pen at him. "You're not turning me into a prisoner just because I'm your wife, pal. I've been riding my bike to and from the studio and will continue to do so. Oh, narrow your eyes all you want. You're not turning me into a Stepford Wife or one of your women."

He cocked his eyebrow. "One of my women?"

"You know, blueblood, born with a silver spoon, and can't lift a finger except to order a servant to _fetch_ something. I'm riding my bike. Who's Mathews?"

"My pilot. The helicopter comes in handy during high traffic. He can fly you in and out of the studio lot or nearby filming location. If you're headed out of town, you can take the jet."

She opened her mouth, closed it, and shook her head. "I'm not dignifying any of that with an answer." Then she chuckled, eyes twinkling.

"What?"

"I'm imagining, uh, the chopper hovering behind me all the way to the studio and the mess that might cause on the highway. You cannot put me through that, Lex. I'm riding Rod and that's that."

She named her bike? "We'll have to compromise on that then. At times you ride and at times you don't, depending on our evening plans or morning ones." He could keep her in bed just a little longer to get his way.

"We'll see," she mumbled. Then as though she'd read his mind, she tapped the contract. "Are you sure you can go without sex for a year? Because if I'm flying solo, you sure as hell must fly solo."

He choked on his coffee and took a moment to wipe his lips. Fly solo? Was she saying she would be pleasuring herself in the bedroom next to his? From the grin on her face, she'd deliberately worded that last sentence to get his reaction.

He could be celibate, but he didn't intend to. He'd give them a week, two at most. Or he might just make her wait until their wedding night. "Yes, Jillian. I can be celibate."

She sat back and tapped the pen against her lips while studying him quizzically. "Okay. This is going to be an adventure, I think. I just need to add my demands and we're good."

His phone buzzed. He checked the screen and saw Douglas' name.

"I need to take this. Excuse me," Lex said and stood. "Oh, you need a lawyer to take a look at the final draft before you sign it."

She nodded. "Greg will. He has a law degree." She went back to scribbling on the paper. Watching her, Lex grinned. He couldn't wait to see what she was adding to his list.

He left the room and headed to the bar. Douglas was talking to a familiar sandy-haired man and nursing a drink. Likely club soda. Drinking on the job had destroyed his military career, but he'd been sober for six years.

"We should be ready to leave in five-ten minutes," Lex said, joining Douglas.

"I'll bring the car around, sir." Douglas drained his drink and left the bar.

Lex waited until he was gone before he turned his attention to the sandy-haired man—Greg Underwood's partner. Lex had also seen his pictures in the agent's office. He'd been at Perris Valley Skydiving Field with Jillian, too.

"Hank, the usual," Lex told the bartender. The bar was nearly empty except for him, the bartender, and Greg's partner.

Lex didn't wait long before the man faced him. He neither cracked a smile nor offered a hand in greeting before saying, "Alexander Fitzgerald? I'm Chris Lander."

"I expected Underwood to be lying in wait for me, not his partner."

"I sent him home because you and I need to talk alone."

Lex cocked his eyebrows. "About?"

"Jillian."

The bartender placed a finger of amber liquid in front of Lex. "Thank you." Lex sipped the drink and savored its silky taste as he debated how to deal with the situation. According to Greg Underwood, Jillian worked exclusively with this guy.

"Mr. Lander, I'm aware that you work with Jillian, but I explained to Underwood that she won't need your expertise while working for me."

Chris' eyes narrowed. "Greg told me the same thing, but this is not about me. This is about you. Why do you need a bodyguard when you have an ex-CIA employee?"

Douglas must have talked. Strange, he rarely discussed his career with the CIA. "One can never have enough bodyguards, Mr. Lander."

"In other words, this bodyguard business with Jillian is a sham. What concerns me the most is you only met her this afternoon, yet you're ready to sign a contract binding her to you."

"I think you've been misinformed," Lex said, eyeing the man with annoyance. "She will finish her present contract."

"But afterwards—"

"Mr. Lander," Lex said firmly. "I don't owe you an explanation, and Jillian is a grown woman. If she chooses to work for me or someone else, it's her decision. No one is forcing her. Frankly, it's none of your business what she does when not working with you."

Lander moved closer. "That's where you're wrong, Mr. Fitzgerald. I'm her uncle, and her father put her in my care when she came to Hollywood. Her cocky, tough exterior hides a vulnerability ruthless people might exploit. So if this is some elaborate game you're playing, stop now before you hurt her." His voice lowered. "Because if that happens, you won't be able to hide behind your lawyers or country club buddies, Mr. Fitzgerald. I'll come after you. I'm a special effects guy, and there are things I could do to make your life miserable and you'd not prove it was me responsible. Then there are her brothers. They're the meanest bastards you've ever met, and they don't take kindly to anyone messing with their only sister. Consider yourself warned." Then he turned and walked away.

Lex watched the man, his mind racing. He drained his drink and placed the glass on the bar. Without making eye contact with the bartender, he went back to find Jillian. She'd never mentioned siblings.

Jillian looked up when he entered the room and handed him the contract. Still mulling over Lander's words, he sat and glanced at her provisos. He could work around them, except the last two. He didn't realize she'd gotten up until she was peering at the contract over his shoulder. Her feminine scent and warmth washed over his senses.

"What's the problem, Alexander?"

No one but his mother called him Alexander. He turned his head and, at the same time, leaned back so their faces were only a few inches apart. Her eyes widened, but she didn't move back.

"I have to convince your family that I'm crazy about you?" Lex asked.

She grinned, her eyes twinkling. "Yep."

"Why?"

"Like your mother, my father has a thing about marriage. You'll have to ask him for my hand in marriage."

He'd expected that. He hadn't met a family he couldn't charm.

"And I have to make you happy or you're divorcing me?"

She grinned. "My needs are simple. Just meet them and we're good."

Back to needs again. The woman was screwing with his head. "And what are those needs?"

She straightened. "What fun is there in telling you? If I'm going to jump through hoops to convince your family and business partners that you are a happily married man, you'd better make me happy."

CHAPTER 6

Jillian adjusted her helmet and glanced over her shoulder at her brothers and cousins. She'd spent the past two hours with them, getting ready for their performance, and not once did they bring up their father's financial problems. She wanted to yell at them, demand answers, but her father had zero tolerance for drama before a performance. Even though he was at home and not the Master of Ceremony tonight, they didn't deviate from his rules.

It was Friday and the Honda Center in Anaheim was packed, the crowd appreciative. The clowns were done warming up the crowd for them. Jillian's heart threatened to burst from her chest and her stomach churned, but she wouldn't trade the moment for anything.

Uncle Rowan stopped by her side and pressed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Keep your cool, kiddo," he said.

She nodded. The MC finished announcing them and Uncle Rowan gave the signal. Jillian started the dirt bike and shot forward, leading the pack.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Fearless Finnega-aaans," the MC yelled as they did laps around the arena.

Jillian led the way into the Globe of Death. They'd done the act often and knew exactly what to do, from maintaining a constant speed and the distance from each other to keeping an eye on the bottom center as they did loop-de-loops.

Jillian led as they started going around and around, then adjusted the wheel for elliptical loops and finally up and down. The hydraulics lifted the globe until they were five feet off the ground.

She brought her bike to a stop at the bottom, her cousins following her while her brothers adjusted their trajectory for circular motion at the top half of the globe. Once again, she led the three of them, staying at the bottom half. The hydraulics tip separated the top from the bottom as they continued to make their loops.

The crowd was silent, the only sounds were the high-pitched buzz of the dirt bikes and her pounding heart. Jillian angled her bike so she left her cousins behind and moved closer to the open end on her right. Slowly, the mid-section split from the bottom, leaving her riding alone, above her cousins and below her brothers. One false move and she could go flying through the air and crashing into the audience.

The crowd went wild. She could hear them above the blood roaring past her ears. When she rode out of the Globe, the crowd was screaming.

She stopped, waited for the others, and bowed. While the others rode around and performed minor tricks, she went and traded the dirt bike for her Triumph, the queen of wheelies. If Leeds could come up with a bike similar to the Triumph, they could make a killing. It was a favorite with a three-cylinder, tunable engine and predicable throttle response.

For the next ten minutes, she did twenty different wheelies—sitting, standing, over the handlebars, sidesaddle, one hand, two hands, rodeo-style, and handstands. The crowd loved it.

They were chanting "The Phantom" when Jillian left the arena. Elena was already waiting for their aerial wire act and eyed Jillian with a glint in her eyes. She never liked Jillian, even before Cian married her. Jillian tolerated her ass because she was now family.

"Ready?"

She gave Jillian a stiff smile and nodded. Elena was nervous, and Jillian didn't blame her. She was about to dangle below the bike on a trapeze and execute aerial acrobatics while Jillian rode up and down the wire. Until the finale, Elena would be the focus of the show.

Jillian traded her bike for Suzuki 250. The crowd went quiet as Uncle Rowan, taking over for the MC, explained the act. Jillian took off, gunning the engine of the bike as they started the climb to fifty feet above the ground. The crowd craned their necks to watch Elena spin and twist, at times hanging by her hands, knees, or feet. The crowd oohed and aahed. But the grand finale brought them to their feet. Jillian toggled side-to-side until she tilted and swung Elena up while she hung upside-down still on the bike.

She removed her helmet, but kept her mask as she took the last lap around the arena with Elena standing behind her.

As soon as they went back stage, Elena stepped off and snapped, "You didn't give me enough time to finish my act."

"Please. I gave you plenty of time."

"I like it better when Cian rides the bike. He knows I'm star of that act." She stomped away.

Jillian stared after her and shook her head. She refused to let Elena spoil the moment for her.

"Don't mind her," Ricky said, coming from behind her. "People love you, and she knows it. Cian wants to talk to you about tomorrow."

"What about tomorrow?"

"We're sold out for the morning and afternoon shows, and he believes you're the draw. Damn, sis. Those stoppies were good."

Jillian grinned. If only her father could see her. "I know. Bet I can kick your ass now."

Ricky laughed. "In your dreams. Can you do all three shows tomorrow?"

"Easily. I'd like to try this amazing switchback handstand I've been working on. It's a showstopper, but I need to practice it before. I'll be here at... Oh crap."

Ricky stopped and frowned. "What?"

"I can only do two shows. Ten and two o'clock, not the evening show."

"Come on, Jilly. More grown-ups come to the evening show, so the money will be good and they're coming to see you. You can't disappoint them."

Jillian shook her head. "I have a studio party to attend and can't miss it." Lex would be there.

"You hate Hollywood crap. We need you."

Damn it. She hated being caught between two forces. One she needed and the other needed her. "I'll see what I can do."

~*~

"I'm ready to marry one of the richest men in the country."

Jillian sighed. Saying it aloud didn't make her feel any more confident. She'd had two days to get used to the deal she'd made with Lex Fitzgerald. Two days to second guess herself, fret, and question her sanity. Two days to prepare for the party his mother was throwing for _Terra Frost_ crew and stars. Still, she wasn't ready.

Working with her brothers yesterday and today had forced her not to dwell too much on the fact that tonight she would be signing the contract. Until during her last act. Cian had noticed how distracted she was and told her to go home, but not before she and Elena performed their aerial routine. Now the contract was all she thought about.

She. Was. Not. Ready.

Douglas was punctual picking her up. On their way to the Fitzgerald mansion in Palos Valdes, she learned he'd been in Lex's employment for six years, right after he'd been discharged from the military. He had an ex somewhere and a little girl he only saw occasionally. When she noticed that talking about his daughter bothered him, Jillian switched topics to cars and engines.

"Have you seen Mr. Fitzgerald's collection?" Douglas asked.

"Not yet." She hadn't known Lex collected cars, but then again, most rich people had hobbies, and from the Rolls Royce, the man had exquisite taste. "But I'm looking forward to seeing them."

Jillian kept the conversation away from Lex. She didn't know how much the man knew about her or their deal. He seemed to be some kind of personal assistant slash driver slash whatever his boss wanted him to be. He'd dropped off the contract at her place yesterday along with a rose. Accompanying the single pink rose was a note with a single line in bold handwriting:

Looking forward to tomorrow night.

Jillian wasn't. The closer they got to Lex's home the more nervous she became, especially when Douglas made a call and told whoever he was talking to that they were five minutes away.

And in exactly five minutes, the driver slowed down as they approached a gate manned by several security guards and paparazzi. They trained their lenses on the Phantom, probably wondering who she was. Jillian cringed and slid lower in the seat. Then she remembered that the windows were tinted. Besides, who she was didn't matter. Yet.

They followed a limo, the guards giving Douglas a thumbs-up as he drove through. The compound was huge, carpets of grass interrupted by beds of flowers. What looked like a helipad was to the right, but it now had limos and high-end cars. On the same side of the house were four garage doors wide enough to house two cars each. Must be where Lex kept his collection.

The courtyard was circular, a low-lying wall separating it from the majestic front entrance. Several young men and women were valet parking, and from the number of cars, they would leave the party with wads of money.

Oh God, Lex was supposed to pay her three hundred and fifty grand at the signing of their contract. In cash. She should be happy. Her family would be out of the hole. Instead, the very thought filled her with dread. Where the heck was she going to hide that kind of money? How was she going to pay off her father's debt? The Finnegans were proud people, and her father was at the top of the pyramid. He would never accept money from one of his kids, and her brother Cian was sure to tell him even if she told him not to.

Jillian had entertained delivering the money personally to the Albanians and had even parked across the street from their club and played detective on a stakeout. The place hadn't seemed busy, which was surprising. Hookah bars were quite popular.

"If I asked you to do a U-turn and get me out of here, would you get in trouble?" Jillian asked.

Douglas chuckled. "No, but Mr. Fitzgerald would be very disappointed. He's looking forward to seeing you."

"And we don't want to disappoint him, do we?"

"No, miss. In his case, it's always better to go along with what he wants."

Once again, Jillian wondered how much the man knew about their arrangement. Whether he was judging her or not. Not that his opinion mattered. She'd hate for him to think she was a gold digger.

As though he'd been waiting, Lex stepped out of the house and started for the Rolls. Jillian's stomach dipped with excitement and panic, the two emotions that often accompanied her whenever he was around.

He was dressed in a button-down shirt, except it was unbuttoned near his throat and showed his powerful neck. Everything about him was neat. Shirt tucked in, pants crisp, blazer fitting his broad shoulders to perfection. It made her want to untuck his shirt, ruffle his hair, and get him all dirty.

Before one of the valets could open the door for her, he said something that caused the young man to step aside. Lex opened the door, offered Jillian his hand, and helped her out of the car.

"Finally," he said, not bothering to hide the fact that he'd been awaiting her arrival. A smile tugged his sculptured lips, his eyes shooting from warm to hot as he studied her.

The look in his eyes said he liked what she was wearing, which was great. She'd dressed specifically to impress him. She might not wear couture, but she knew what flattered her figure without making her look skanky. The shawl over her shoulders did more than complement her outfit. It hid bruises on her arm from this morning.

"I was tempted to beg Douglas to get me out of here," Jillian said.

"You hate parties or you're chickening out?"

"Hate parties, and I don't chicken out."

"I'm happy you don't." One hand came to rest on her elbow; the other cupped her cheek. "We have an audience. Don't look," he added quickly when she shifted as though to see behind him. "Kiss me," he whispered, but it still came out as an order.

She wasn't kissing him. "Who is it?"

"My mother and friends. They're dying to meet you." He lowered his head, eyes staring into hers. If all this wasn't staged, she could easily get lost in his gorgeous grays. He had ridiculously long lashes and amazing cheekbones. When she didn't move, his eyebrows shot up in challenge.

That look did it. She wasn't scared of him. It was just a kiss, and she was in control. Despite her pep talk, her heart started beating in a staccato as she placed her hands on his chest for balance, reached up, and pressed her lips to his.

His lips were soft and warm, and she could feel his heart pound steadily under her palm. His chest was hard and warm even through his shirt. A crazy urge to sweep her tongue along the moist interior of his lips and taste him blindsided her. She broke the contact and gave him a tiny smile.

Lex sighed. "You call that a kiss? We're supposed to be crazy about each other."

Okay, her attempt was pathetic, but he didn't have to sound so disappointed by her performance. Maybe she just didn't turn him on.

"I told you I'm not good at performing on cue."

"Then I'll lead from now on while you follow." He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on her knuckles.

The warmth of his breath on her skin sent a shiver through her. There was no way she was letting him lead. He already had all the advantage. All he had to do was look at her and heat pooled low in her belly. Controlling her actions was all she had.

She tugged her hand from his. "I don't think so, pal. This is _my_ show."

His expression was skeptical, his chuckle—when it came—infuriating.

"The problem with you, Alexander," Jillian said, "is you're looking for an excuse to take charge. It's not going to happen." She reached up, cupped his strong jaw, and ran her thumb across his lips with feather light touches. "I'm just warming up." She felt the change in his breathing and hid a grin. She caressed the corner of his mouth and then moved to his dimpled chin.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a low and velvety voice.

"Removing the lipstick stain I left behind." Her lipstick didn't smudge, but it was nice to turn tables on him.

"Do I really have lipstick on me?" he asked suspiciously.

She grinned without answering.

He groaned. "You're going to make me pay for complaining about your kiss, aren't you?"

"I'm not that petty," she protested, "except this time."

He threw his head back and laughed. The valets turned to look at them and nudged each other. She'd forgotten their presence and even Douglas'. The driver was gone, and the car wasn't among those parked nearby.

"Come on," Lex said, placing his hand on the small of her back. She could feel the heat from his hand warming its way through the clothes to her skin. Her bones turned fluid. She needed serious distance between her and this man.

The door opened before they could reach it, and a young lady welcomed them with a smile. Lex took Jillian's hand and tucked it in his firm grip. She expected him to lead her to his mother, but she didn't see a woman old enough to be Lex's mother.

Had he challenged her to a kiss for nothing? "Was your mother really watching us?"

He angled his head. "What do you think?"

"I think you're shameless and self-serving." When he chuckled, she leaned closer and whispered, "If you pull that again, you might not like the consequences."

"Maybe I'll surprise you by loving every moment of it."

Jillian shook her head. As far as men went, Lex was proving to be unpredictable. It was rather unsettling. Most men were easy to read, their responses easy to anticipate. Jillian forced herself to focus on her surroundings, which wasn't easy since Lex tended to command all her attention.

The foyer was packed, but Jillian managed to see past the people—most of whom she knew or had seen around the studio—to the accented pillars around the room, a grand staircase curving to the second floor to her right, and to their left a den with stuffed chairs and shelves of books. By the den, a broad hallway with paintings and portraits on its wall slanted upward to another wing. She recognized a few paintings and vases behind glass-covered niches that should be in a museum, yet the room had that lived-in feeling. Maybe it was the laughter or the ambience the paneling gave the two-story room.

"You have a beautiful home," she said.

"Thank you. It was the first house I remodeled after I finished college."

"It's both majestic and welcoming." She was so busy trying not to gawk it took her a moment to realize they were the center of attention.

As Lex led her toward the back of the house, which seemed to be the center of the party, eyes followed them. Most were people she worked with. They whispered to their plus-ones, confirming they knew who Lex was. And from the way he held her arm, he left no doubt in anyone's mind that he wanted her by his side.

Flushing, Jillian tried to wiggle her hand from his, but he tightened his grip. "What is it?"

"I want to say hi to my coworkers," she whispered back.

"Why?"

"What kind of a question is that?" she asked and smiled at an assistant camera guy and his companion, a stunning red-head. "It's the polite thing to do."

"You don't strike me as someone who always does the right thing," he shot back.

She wasn't. "That's not true. You're reading me wrong again."

He chuckled as though he knew she was lying. "Will you introduce me as your boyfriend?"

She'd never consider him a boyfriend. The word was too juvenile to describe him. And she didn't particularly care what her coworkers thought, except Chris. Greg didn't approve of her new gig, insisting she was nuts. The fact that Chris hadn't called her to talk about it meant they'd discussed it and he was on Greg's side.

"I haven't signed the contract," she shot back.

Lex stopped right by the back entrance through which Jillian could see a pool and what looked like a tennis court to the far right.

"This way," he said, turned to face the hallway they'd come from, and groaned. "Mother."

"Darling," a woman said. "I was sure you'd decided to leave us when I saw you take off a few minutes ago."

"And miss your party?"

Jillian turned to see a middle-aged, exotic-looking woman in a designer outfit glide gracefully toward them. If she'd met her without Lex, Jillian would never have guessed she was old enough to be his mother. Her thick, black luxurious hair had not a single gray strand, her skin had a natural tan, and she was in great shape. From her coral pantsuit to her shoes, she had exquisite taste in everything designer. But her twinkling gray eyes said she was a woman who openly showered her children with love and didn't care who knew it.

"You've done it in the past, you impossible boy." She stopped in front of them and turned her attention to Jillian. "He'd insisted he wouldn't be available until a few days ago. I believe it's you I need to thank for making him stay. I'm Estelle Valdez-Fitzgerald," she added, giving Jillian her hand.

"Jillian Finnegan. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fitzgerald."

Jillian expected the usual scrutiny she often got from people in her business—a glance that catalogued the value of a dress and accessories. She was guilty of doing it, too. Her dress might pass scrutiny. She'd lucked out yesterday after scouring boutiques owned by not-yet-famous designers with a few Fashion Week shows under their belts. Her red-soled shoes might be high-end, but they were two years old.

Mrs. Fitzgerald's eyes only left Jillian's face long enough to glance at their clasped hands and her handshake was warm.

"I'm happy you could make it too, Jillian. Mingle and enjoy yourself, but promise we will talk before you leave. I'd like to know how you got to know my reclusive son and why I've never heard about you."

"We'll be leaving soon, Mom," Lex said before Jillian could respond.

Estelle harrumphed. "No, you won't. I want a chance to sit down and get to know this young lady."

"You will." Lex leaned down and pressed a kiss on his mother's cheek. "Just not tonight."

"Tomorrow?"

"We already have plans for tomorrow." Lex glanced down at Jillian and added, "We'll discuss it and find the perfect time for Jillian to visit."

Jillian nodded, but inside she was panicking. Things were moving too fast. "I'll check my schedule. We might be filming in Vancouver next week." Mrs. Fitzgerald frowned, not bothering to mask her disappointment. Jillian quickly added, "But I'll make sure we get to talk, Mrs. Fitzgerald. Maybe I'll learn a thing or two about Lex. He's been rather mysterious about his past."

Lex's mother laughed. "Oh, I like her, Lex. Come find me, dear." She patted Jillian's hand, then kissed Lex's cheek and whispered something before waving and walking away.

"My past?"

"I had to say something. She looked so disappointed. Why don't you want me to talk to her?"

Instead of answering her, Lex led Jillian back toward the foyer. This time, she was all too aware of the stares and the whispers. Lex appeared oblivious. He pushed open a door that led to a pristine kitchen with two range ovens and a large rectangular table along with several side counters and an island. It was empty. She wondered who cooked for them. Mrs. Fitzgerald didn't look like the cooking type.

They went down another hallway, turned a corner, and entered a den or maybe a home office. Lex closed the door.

"Alone at last," he said, a devilish grin curling his lips.

Jillian pretended not to hear him and tried to focus on the room, which was also paneled—wall, ceiling, and floor—with wood of the same golden color as the leather sofas. As always, her eyes kept going to Lex. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the arm of the sofa. Muscles shifted underneath the thin fabric. He had endless broad shoulders, masculine arms, and powerful thighs his tailored trousers couldn't hide.

He caught her eyes on him, and she said the first thing that popped in her head. "About your mother?"

"Sit, please." He tilted his head to indicate the sofa, sat, and leaned back, his eyes on her. "You're worried over nothing," he added, patting the seat. "I won't let her grill you tonight."

Jillian sat on the edge of the sofa, too nervous to really relax. She gripped her clutch and plucked at the fabric. It was time to sign the contract, the point of no return, and she was a hot mess. It was the only way to help her family. Or so she kept telling herself.

"My mother's one of the smartest women I know," Lex said. "She'll want to know where we met and how long we've known each other, and she'll detect a lie before it leaves your lips."

"You make her sound like a terrible person."

"She's not terrible. She's loving and selfless, but she's also very shrewd. Stick to the truth as close as possible when you talk to her. Whatever you say, I'll back you."

Lex draped his arm along the back of the sofa, and Jillian was happy she hadn't leaned against the sofa. All that masculine energy was too much at close quarters. Taking a deep breath, she cast away her insecurities, glanced at him, and found him studying her. "So why did you tell her we'd be leaving soon?"

He tilted closer, grinning. "We just did. We're no longer in the wing where they're holding the party. They can't hear us, and we can't hear them. But if you want to go back, just say the word."

She couldn't lie just to run away from his tempting presence. "Not yet. I do hope to see Chris tonight. He and Greg are not too pleased with my decision. Chris is also my uncle," she explained.

Lex's expression became serious. "And their approval is vital to our agreement?"

"Not really. Actually, I prefer if few people know the terms of our agreement." Her voice rose in agitation. Even though she was agreeing to this, she wasn't sure she could pull it off. The uncertainty scared her. Then there was Greg's reaction. "Greg didn't approve after he read it. He didn't want to, uh, how had he put it? Enable me. But I'm happy with the wording."

"That's because I drafted it without my lawyers. Like you, I'd like the terms of the contract kept private. Did you add any more changes?"

~*~

Lex watched as Jillian nervously opened her purse and pulled out the single sheet. He wondered if she was getting cold feet.

"Everything will be okay," he reassured her.

"Yeah, right," she murmured.

"I know for a fact that you will win over my mother, and the rest of my family will fall in line," he said confidently.

Her eyes flashed as she cut him a look. "You do know things don't just fall into place because you will them to."

Now she was annoyed with him. "They usually do."

She let out an endearing snort and rolled her eyes. "That's arrogance talking."

"No, that's my ability to choose winners, and I chose you."

"Gee, lucky me," she murmured.

He laughed, loving her spunkiness. She was going to need it to deal with his family. But he'd be there to make things easy for her. Unable to help himself, Lex stole a lock of her hair. Silky and soft. He rubbed it between his fingers. Wariness entered her eyes, but she didn't jerk away. He let her hair go and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"I know you will win over my family because you like a challenge, and pulling this off is a big one. I believe in you, Jillian."

She sighed, frowning. "You said we should stick as close to the truth as possible."

"Yes. We met a few days ago and I"—a boyish grin curled his lips—"swept you off your feet."

She laughed. "You're not that charming."

"Ouch. I admit I'm a bit rusty. It's been a year since I've taken a woman out, but—"

"A year?" she asked.

"Business is a selfish mistress, but I'm cutting back. Slowly."

Her eyes were wide as she studied him, and he couldn't help wondering if she was thinking what he was thinking—a year without dating meant a year with no sex. She fidgeted in her seat, and a tinge of pink touched her cheeks. That their thoughts might be in sync sent unbridled hunger, sharp and unfamiliar, through him. He had a lot of making up to do, and he planned to do it with her.

"I don't believe you. You are rich and good-looking," she said with a naughty gleam in her eyes.

"Two things that have nothing to do with my choices. Just because women choose to chase me doesn't mean I have to accept their overtures." He grinned and leaned toward her, letting her scent wrap around his senses. "I'll let you in on a secret," he whispered.

Her pupils dilated slightly, and she swallowed. Her "yes" came out breathless.

"I'm very picky about the women I sleep with." His eyes dropped to her lips. When she bit her lower lip, he smothered a groan and met her gaze. She wanted him as much he wanted her.

He reached out and touched the corner of her mouth. When she let go of her lower lip with a soft gasp, Lex wanted to taste the moisture she'd left behind.

He wasn't sure whether she was ready for him. He was relentless and unstoppable when he wanted something, and he wanted Jillian Finnegan with an urgency that surprised him. But he knew if he tasted her, he wouldn't stop himself. He'd want to make her his. Not just once. No, when he made love to Jillian, it was going to be an "all-night and into the next day" fest.

It was time to put some space between them.

"Are you ready to sign the contract?" he asked, standing.

For one brief second, she just stared at him in utter disappointment, the kind that could shrivel a man's balls. Instead, it made his blood boil with need.

Soon, sweetheart. Soon.

She nodded, uncertainty entering her eyes. He wasn't sure whether the cause was the agreement they were about to enter or the fact that he could have kissed her and had chosen not to. Either way, he needed to give her space to get used to the idea of the two of them as a couple.

"I'm going to be gone most of next week, but I should be back in town by Friday." Lex walked to his desk. Instead of just retrieving the folder with the contract and the duffel bag with the money, he sat behind the desk and indicated the chair across from his.

Jillian stood, and he took a moment to study her as she walked toward him. She had a sense of style and looked good in whatever she wore, but he couldn't wait to drape her in the latest fashion from the finest designers. His family didn't care about such things, but his friends and business associates were a different breed of people. Wives and girlfriends could be catty. He didn't want Jillian subjected to ridicule.

"We should have dinner on Friday," he suggested, handing her the contract and a pen.

She glanced at it then him and frowned. "We might be in Vancouver filming."

"Then I'll fly in."

Without hesitation, she scribbled her signature. He liked that she wasn't reneging on their deal despite her doubts. It made him respect her even more.

"I have various phone numbers you could use to reach me, starting with my private cell phone number." He pulled out a card and scribbled his private cell number, which only his family had, the direct line to his office, the penthouse, and the mansion. The last number was Douglas'. He handed the card to her. "Mrs. Sandoval, the housekeeper, is always here to answer the phone. My assistant, Paula, is in charge at the office, but she'll always patch you in to me. And Douglas is at your disposal whenever you need him, starting now."

She studied the card, removed a cell phone from her clutch, and punched the numbers in. "Where do you live?"

"I divide my time between the penthouse at Dublin Building and here." She was biting her lower lip again, an action he now realized was a sign of nervousness. The need to connect with her and reassure her had him standing and walking around the desk. He lifted her chin and studied her face. "What is it?"

"I thought I was prepared for this."

He stroked her cheek. "Me too, but now that it's a done deal, it's a bit surreal."

She peered at him. "You're nervous, too?"

Not in the least. He was looking forward to knowing her. Not just who she was, but intimately. When he exchanged vows with her, they would be real. When he made love to her, he would do it with one intention, to brand her so when she left his bed she would never want another man again.

"Would it make you feel less uncertain?" he asked.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Will you ever give me a straight answer?"

He chuckled. "Always. No, sweetheart. I'm not nervous. I'm looking forward to our association. I'm also confident that once you think of all the benefits of this arrangement, you'll be happy with your decision. Then there's the money. You'll be a rich woman by the end of the year."

Her stoic expression said the money wasn't a big deal for her. He reached down and plucked the duffel bag from the floor.

"And there's this. As per your request"—he unzipped the bag and poured the bundled, crisp bills on the desk—"three hundred and fifty thousand upon signing the contract."

Jillian's eyes widened. She looked at the money, at him, and then the money again. She didn't seem eager to count every bill and confirm it was all there. In fact, she cringed, which didn't make sense. She'd asked for the money.

"You... I, uh, can't take that," she said, her hands nervously smoothing her dress. She glanced at him and must have seen his confusion because she added, "I mean, I can't lug around that amount of money or keep it in my house." She laughed nervously. "I'd never sleep."

Lex frowned. "But you asked for it."

"I know. I just can't have it with me."

He hadn't wanted to ask, but he'd been curious. If she'd asked for a check, he would have just assumed she planned to pay off her mortgage or something. But cash could mean she was into different things, none of them good. "What is it for?"

Jillian shook her head, confidence sipping back into her and straightening her spine. Her chin went up. "It's personal. Can you keep it until I need it?"

"Of course. When you're ready, just call Douglas and he'll drop it off at your place."

Relief flashed in her eyes. "That would be nice."

"You sure you don't want to count it?" he teased.

She winced again. "No. I trust you. Can you put it away now?"

Again, her reaction was bizarre. Maybe she felt guilty about asking for it. He picked up several bundles when muffled sounds came from the hallway behind the door. The next second, the knob turned and his mother's voice reached them.

"The last time I saw it was in here."

Lex looked at Jillian, and they both dove for the money, shoving it into the bag. Jillian just grabbed the last several wads when his mother stepped inside the room. Lex went with his instinct and pulled Jillian into his arms, her back to the door. Her hands, still clutching the money, were wedged between them.

"Fuck... fuck... fuck..." Jillian cursed softly under her lips.

Lex blinked and stared down at her. The cursing was unexpected. She chose the moment to look up, saw his expression, and cringed.

"Sorry," she mouthed.

Okay, so his future wife had colorful language. Interesting. Not exactly a deal-breaker. But from her expression, she was mortified she'd whispered those words. His arms tightened protectively around her as he glanced toward the door. His mother watched them with a grin.

"Mother?" Lex asked. "Can I help you with something?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," she said, not sounding sorry in the least. "I seem to have misplaced my diamond bracelet, the one your father gave me. You don't happen to have seen it, have you?"

The bracelet had a faulty clasp, but he'd personally taken it to a jeweler to have it fixed. His nosy mother was using it as an excuse to check on him and Jillian. He was thirty-nine for pity's sakes.

"I thought I saw it in the basement," Lex said. "You know, in the room with reinforced steel." The panic room was also used as a vault for family valuables.

His mother didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. "Really? I must be losing my mind. I'll leave you two alone. Jillian, I'm happy you're still around."

The look Douglas shot Lex as he closed the door was apologetic, but Lex didn't react. He didn't blame his chauffer for being dragged into one of his mother's schemes. No one could refuse Estelle Fitzgerald anything once she set her mind on it. From the looks of things, she was determined to stick her nose in his business.

Jillian's shoulder trembled, and Lex's arm tightened. She was shaking. Probably the aftershock of almost getting busted by the one person they were supposed to convince that their relationship was normal. If his mother had seen the money...

"Sorry about that. My mother—"

Jillian looked up. Instead of panic, her eyes twinkled and her lips were pressed tight as though she was trying hard not to laugh. That she found the situation amusing was both cute and disconcerting.

"You thought that was funny?" he growled.

"You should have seen your face." She tried to block the sounds with the back of her hand, but couldn't contain the laughter. It burst from her lips.

Lex watched her as she stumbled back and dropped on the chair behind her. She was a total contradiction. Lady-like, charming, and polite, but she also had a dirty mouth. The mouth he wanted to capture and mold to his will. He swept the money from her arms and pulled her into his.

"Swear again," he whispered.

Her eyes widened, not with fear, not from the smile that tilted her lips. Somehow she knew what he was asking. "You liked that?"

"I don't know," he said. Most of the women he'd slept with were so straight-laced. So bland. Jillian was... different. "It makes me want to do things to you. Naughty things."

Her eyes grew wider, and Lex wondered if he'd gone too far. He had wanted to take it slow, but that had gone through the window the moment she had pressed her lush body against him and cursed under her breath. "So it's okay to occasionally forget I'm, uh..."

"A lady?" he supplied.

"No, Lex. Cultured. Modest. I'd never claim to be a lady."

He didn't want her to. "Say it again."

Her smile broadened, turquoise eyes gleaming with mischief. "Say what?"

"Fuck, Jillian. Add 'me' to make things interesting."

She lowered her eyelids and whispered in a sultry voice, "Fuck me, Lex."

He crushed her lips with his before the words completely left her lips. The taste of her was like a punch in the gut, twisting and tightening until he was ready to explode.

CHAPTER 7

Lex was ruthless in his possession of her lips, her senses, and her will. His erection pushed against her stomach, begging her to touch him, pleasure him, and satisfy her own desires. Jillian went from teasing him to wanting to rip off his clothes.

She had been kissed countless times. During foreplay. While in the throes of passion. Even after a hot bout between the sheets, but never like this. Her nipples ached, and wetness pooled in her panties. She'd never wanted a man this badly. She rubbed against him, her hands bunching his shirt as she sought more skin contact.

It was too much, yet not enough.

She ripped her mouth from his and tried to stop, but all she could focus on were his lips. Those beautiful, sculptured, merciless lips. She wanted them all over her body, making her come again and again.

God, she was so screwed.

Lex growled and reclaimed her lips, the kiss morphing into something bigger than themselves. He brought in the cavalry and laid siege on her senses, using his hands, mouth, tongue, and teeth. He cupped her breast and stroked her nipples. Bit her lower lip and bore down hard.

Jillian gasped at the sting, but then he soothed it with his tongue and made it better, fingers forking through her hair to hold her head in place. With a different guy, she would have become the aggressor and taken control eons ago. With Lex, she was more than happy to let him take charge—wipe her mind clean of whatever she knew about foreplay and replace them with new memories.

He scooped her up and headed for... She didn't know where. Didn't care. A moan escaped her as he buried his mouth in her neck, taking nips that were sure to leave marks. She bruised easily.

"Open the door," he growled.

The door? To where? Sanity returned. Jillian removed her hands from around his shoulders, cupped his face, and created a wedge between them, forcing him to stop marking her.

"Lex, stop," she said. It came out as a croak.

He looked into her eyes, and Jillian almost gave in to the need burning in their depth. "But you said 'fuck me.'"

"Because you asked me to," she said.

"You said it again. Like you meant it."

It must have slipped out. Jillian wiggled, until he let her slide to the floor, but he didn't let her go. His arm stayed around her waist, their bodies pressed together. His erection pressed invitingly against her. He really didn't play fair.

"That was my way of saying _holy crap_."

His eyes narrowed.

Not sure what he was thinking, she became defensive. "I know I have a potty mouth, a habit I picked up from my brothers, but I promise to moderate my language around you, your family, and your friends."

He gave her a self-deprecating smile, reached up, and ran a finger across her lips. "I love your mouth. Talk dirty to me all you want. I like details, whether you want it hard or gentle. Fast or slow."

He had a freaky streak in him. Nice. No, not nice. He was supposed to be boring and conventional. Stuffy and stiff upper-lipped. Not hot and tempting. The kind of man she'd always wanted and could never find. He lifted her chin with his finger and stared down at her, his expression determined.

"We will have sex, Jillian," he added, voice firm and sure, eyes challenging her to deny it.

Mouth dry, Jillian stepped away from him before she could yell "yes!" The man had a way of having her consent to things before her self-preservation kicked in. _Run,_ her mind screamed. _Put distance between Lex and you before you jump straight back into his arms._

"Sex isn't included in our contract, Lex," she tossed over her shoulder and reached for her clutch.

"And when we do," he said from behind her, gripping her hips and pulling her up against him. It didn't help matters that she'd bent over to pick up the clutch from the chair by his desk and their position was suggestive. "The multiple orgasms won't have anything to do with the contract either."

Jillian straightened and threw him a censuring look, but she didn't move away. She couldn't. Her knees had gone weak, and her body seemed to melt into his as if she'd become an extension of him.

"This kind of intimacy will complicate matters, Lex. Blur the line between what's fake and what's real."

"Then we'll adapt." One large hand moved across her stomach to hold her in place while the other captured her chin and held her head in place to make sure she didn't move.

She braced herself for another invasion of her senses. The perverse side of her needed it, so she could reduce what she was feeling to pure lust. Lust she understood. It burned hot and fizzled out fast. Lust she could walk away from. Nothing was special about lust.

Instead of capturing her mouth in another pillaging kiss, Lex brushed his lips across hers slowly as though memorizing the shape and texture. The effect was like nothing Jillian had ever felt. Sensual. Soothing yet stimulating. Torture in its purest form. When he stopped, she wanted to protest. He let her chin go and dropped a kiss on her neck. Jillian shivered.

"May I use your bathroom?"

"It's right across the hall," he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her nape. "I'll be here when you're done."

Jillian wasn't sure how she managed to walk, but she did, paused by the door, and glanced back at Lex. He watched her with hooded eyes, hands thrust in his pockets, his arousal evident even from where she stood. She looked up from studying it and caught his naughty grin. He was shameless. She rolled her eyes and yanked open the door.

The hallway was empty, thank goodness, or someone would have seen her mad dash into the bathroom. Jillian closed the door and leaned against it. Only then did she exhale.

What had she gotten herself into?

Her reflection in the wide bathroom mirror had no answers for her. Instead, she saw evidence of a woman who'd been thrown off her game. Her lips were puffy, and her eyes were wild with confusion. Worse, he had her on the run. Next time, she would have him eating from the palm of her hand She'd...

Jillian cursed. "No, there won't be a next time, missy."

Why did he have to be so unpredictable? Why couldn't he be like the guys she'd dated? Beautiful to look at, but lacking in so many areas. She would have used him during their year together and walked away without a backward glance.

But no, he had to pull all kinds of crap on her. Every move designed to screw with a woman's head. The chemistry between them was strong, but the feelings he evoked in her were so raw she doubted she'd ever survive sleeping with him. Not that what they'd do could ever be called sleeping. He would expose her deepest desires, rip her heart apart, and leave it bleeding before the year was over. Then where would she be afterward? Nursing a broken heart?

Jillian cursed some more.

He needed a temporary wife, and that was what he would get. She'd tell him there would be no more kissing or the contract was null and void. Public shows of affection for appearances were expected, but she would curb her enthusiasm. Yes, she was taking some of the blame. Hearing him ask her to curse had gone straight to her head. Kissing her like he couldn't get enough of her had sent her spiraling to unchartered sensual territories. After getting weird reactions from her ex-boyfriends whenever she'd dropped the F-bomb, it had been exhilarating to find a kindred spirit. She imagined letting herself go in bed, yelling her needs, fantasies...

She cursed out loud again. _Get your act together, Jillian._

No more kissing him unless there was an audience, or no more doing it in places where things could get out of control. She'd look him in the eye and tell him in a calm and firm voice.

Smiling, Jillian repaired her makeup, checked her neck, and sighed. She could see red patches already forming. It wasn't going to be long before the marks darkened. Oh well. That should set the tongues wagging.

She opened the door and almost bumped into Lex. The raw emotions shimmering in the depth of his eyes chased away whatever speech she'd prepared. He looked worried.

"Are you okay?" he asked, frowning.

Jillian nodded. "Yeah. Are you?"

"No," he ground out. "I heard yells and curses. I knocked, but you didn't answer."

Jillian felt her cheeks grow warm. "Oh."

"If something is wrong, talk to me. Did you receive a call? Text? If anyone is bothering you, I'll deal with them."

Jillian smiled. How ironic he'd want to take away her problems when they all pointed at him. No, that wasn't true. They pointed at her. _She_ was the problem. _She_ was the one running scared because of a kiss. Running was not her thing. She faced her problems head on. Always.

"No, I'm fine. Just got sidetracked, but I'm good." Now was the time to tell him about no more kissing, yet all she saw was the concern in his eyes. She fought against its pull and stiffened her spine. "Uh, Lex, I wanted to..." Her voice trailed off when he reached down, took her hand, and gently interlaced their fingers.

"Yes?" he asked, voice even gentler.

Right there was her undoing. Tenderness. If he continued acting like he was her hero hell bent on mowing down her enemies, she could have disregarded him. She'd grown up with men like that. Her brothers had threatened mayhem to any man who'd shown interest in her, and it used to piss her off. As for displays of affection, a playful slap on the back of the head or a fake punch on the arm or chin was it. This kind of gentleness whipped the rug out from under her feet and made her insides mushy.

She couldn't just blurt out "Don't ever kiss me like that again." She had to be subtle. Find out what made him tick, and then discourage him from thinking the two of them could ever work. They were too different culturally, even though they were kindred spirits.

"Jillian," Lex said, peering at her with an encouraging smile. Then a frown transformed his face.

Now what?

"What happened?" He lifted her arm, and she realized her attempt to cover the bruises from this morning hadn't gone as planned. Her attempt to master the switchback handstand hadn't gone as planned either.

"It's nothing." Where the hell had she dropped her shawl?

Lex frowned. "I don't consider this nothing, Jillian. The bruises look serious."

"I fell while trying a move. I had it checked, and the doctor said it would go away in a few days." She hadn't seen the doctor. "It doesn't really hurt." It did, but she'd taken meds for the pain. She was never trying that move again. There was a thin line between suicidal and fun daredevil acts, and she wasn't crossing it again.

"You hurt yourself doing stunts?" Lex asked.

Jillian opened her mouth to say yes and remembered who she was talking to. "No. My bike at home. You could call it a wheelie-gone-wrong." Time to distract him. She gave him a beatific smile. "Could I see your car collection? Douglas was raving about it on our drive here."

Lex chuckled, a boyish smile transforming his features. "Sure. You can choose the one we take for a test drive if you like."

He had her at "choose." "Can we make an appearance at the party first?"

"Why?"

"I need to talk to Greg and Chris. Then there's your mother."

He groaned and reluctantly led her toward the main part of the house after she picked up her shawl. She noticed how he was careful not to touch her bruised arm. As soon as they reached the main hallway running from the foyer to the back of the house, a server appeared and offered them champagne.

"Take an unopened bottle, two glasses, and some food to the gazebo," Lex instructed the young man, plucking a glass of champagne and handing it to Jillian, and then taking a second one for himself. He raised it and smiled smugly. "To a fruitful relationship."

"Three hundred and sixty-five days of it," Jillian said, reminding him their future was temporary, and took a tiny sip. Alcohol was not her thing. For some reason, she had zero tolerance.

The party was in full swing when they joined the people by the pool. A jazz band played in the background and voices of agents chatting up possible new clients or kissing up to producers—a few from the studio were in attendance—mingled with rising stars.

Margo Jenkins held court to the right, young men and women drawn to her. Aussie Wonder Boy Keith was holding court a few feet away. Jillian wondered if the studio would couple them up for publicity. Margo always slept with her leading men, and Keith was single.

Once again, Jillian and Lex's appearances drew attention, including Margo's adoring fans. Margo noticed, and her eyes narrowed in a hateful glare. The actress didn't smile or nod, but then again, she never "saw" Jillian or any of the support staff. Jillian ignored her. She had enough on her plate without worrying about Margo.

Funny how the attention she was receiving tonight was so different from last night and earlier today. Being in the limelight didn't bother her when she performed with her brothers. Partly because her performance couldn't be duplicated by just anyone and the circus goers knew it. They were awed watching her. And her family always took pride in her performance, however insignificant.

The Hollywood crowd was different. Judgmental. They couldn't wait to see you fail. She'd learned how easy it was to be seduced by fame and crave adoration from fans to a point where you hurt yourself to get it. Then there was the ease with which the media and fans could turn against you. Made her hate publicity. Even now, when she rode as the Phantom Rider, she liked the thrill of anonymity. No one knew who she was and, therefore, no one judged her. Out here, she felt exposed and vulnerable.

As though he sensed her discomfort, Lex reached for her hand. Her body angled toward his, the two of them continued moving around the pool to where Chris and Greg were talking to Lex's mother. Hopefully it wasn't about her. She introduced Lex to a few people she considered friends. Most of them were support staff and young actors with minor roles. Shay Donahue, a supporting actress with a larger role, joined them.

Shay was about the sweetest actress Jillian had ever worked with. Ten years ago, she was a household name and a pin-up girl from a hit TV series called _Surfside_ —a show about lifeguards at a beach in Miami. They'd film them running in slow motion, the women in their skimpiest bikinis with boobs threatening to spill out. Her brothers and cousins never missed an episode or reruns. They'd even renamed the women according to their boob sizes. Shay was D-two for her double D cups. Jillian could smile now, but she used to suffer from serious boob-envy when it came to Shay. But that was then. She'd learned to appreciate her modest C-cups.

Jillian introduced Shay to Lex.

"You were in _Surfside_ ," he said.

Shay blushed. "Yes. How did you recognize me? I was a lot younger and skinnier."

Shay had packed on some pounds and had a few corrective surgeries. She looked nothing like the woman of ten years ago.

"You haven't changed one bit," Lex said smoothly, impressing Jillian and winning Shay over. Rusty with women, he'd said. What a crock. He charmed Shay with such ease and had her laughing in no time. When she left, Jillian cut Lex a look.

"What?" he asked.

"Did you really remember her from _Surfside_?" she asked.

Lex made a face. "Never watched it."

"Yeah, right. Every red-blooded American male loved that show."

He grinned. "Watching TV was a luxury I couldn't afford." He let go of her hand and gripped her arm. "Come on."

Jillian threw a glance at the group with Chris and Greg. Whatever they were discussing appeared engrossing. Just as well. It was going to take more than an evening to convince Chris she knew what she was doing. Chris still treated her like a child. She was twenty-nine for Christ's sake, old enough to make her own decisions without him switching to Mama Bear mode.

As Lex led her toward the gazebo, the conversations the two of them had a few days ago flashed through her head. He must have been in his late twenties when _Surfside_ was a huge hit. Surely, he wasn't always working.

"Didn't you ever have down time? You know, kickback with your brothers and cousins?"

He chuckled. "I did, but we spent it watching or playing ball."

Jillian entered the gazebo ahead of him. "So how did you recognize Shay?"

"She was on my list."

"List?" Then she remembered. "Oh, _that_ list." There was a tray with a bottle of champagne, two flutes, and hors d'oeuvres. She guessed all Lex had to do was give an order and people jumped. Instead of sitting, Jillian remained standing and searched for Shay.

The gazebo gave them a perfect view of the pool deck and the eighty odd guests milling around. A catering company was starting to set up the dinner buffet on the main deck by the house. Watching Shay talk to one of the production assistants, Jillian imagined her as Lex's fake wife. She was gorgeous and closer to his age. They would have made a cute couple, except...

"She's too sweet. You would have walked all over her."

Lex laughed. "I'm insulted. I would have treated her with the same respect I give you."

Jillian gave an unladylike snort. But then the smile disappeared. Would he have kissed Shay the way he'd kissed her? She didn't own Lex, but at the same time, she didn't like imagining him with any of the actresses either. What criteria did he use to choose the women? She studied the actresses, trying to deny the reason she was interested in that stupid list. Jealousy was a new emotion to her.

"Who else was on your list?" _And please don't tell me Margo made it,_ she added silently. "How did you choose them?"

~*~

Lex leaned against the gazebo pole and studied Jillian. The sparkle was back in her eyes. Earlier, when she'd locked herself in the bathroom, he'd thought that he'd scared her away. That she was still around and hadn't told him to take a hike was proof he'd chosen well. None of the women he'd selected before could touch her.

"You're not drinking your champagne," he said.

"And you are hedging."

"The other women are not important. You are." He pressed a kiss on her shoulder and felt the shudder that rocked her body. Her response to his touch amazed him.

"Lex," she whispered.

"We're being watched," he added. Across the pool, Chris and Greg were done talking to his mother, and the three were staring their way. He could see the disapproval on Chris' face. The man needed to get over himself.

"I should talk to Chris," Jillian said.

"Eat something first." He didn't want her to leave yet. He picked up the plate and offered her the appetizer. She took a piece of shrimp and dipped it in the sauce. Lex grinned when she ate it and reached for another piece. He placed the plate on the ledge of the gazebo and joined her.

"So how are you related to Chris?" he asked.

"He's more like an honorary uncle. He's close to my family and mentored me in everything I know about stunts," she added quickly.

"He's very protective of you."

"Yeah. It's kind of sweet." She scrunched her nose, a gesture he found utterly adorable. "How do you know he's protective of me?"

"He and I spoke briefly."

Her eyes widened. "When?"

"At Eros."

Jillian frowned and looked at the other guests as though searching for Chris. He was gone and so was Lex's mother.

"He's an interesting guy."

Her eyes met his. "Yes, and amazing too. I would not have navigated Hollywood without him. When Mom died, he helped me cope with my fears and got me back on the bike again. I owe him a lot." She continued to search, craning her neck.

She had a beautiful neck. Long. Graceful. He couldn't help reaching out and stroking it. He loved that she leaned against his hand, welcoming his touch.

"He went into the house," Lex said, and she shot him an uncertain look. "Go. I'll be here when you come back. But first, can I have that?" He pointed at her hand. She was still holding a stuffed mushroom.

"Sure." She offered it to him, but Lex opened his mouth. He held her hand in place and sucked on her fingers while watching her reaction. "Mmm, tastes better."

She rolled her eyes. "You're weird."

"You have no idea."

Still laughing, she took off. His eyes followed her as he drained his champagne. The blue dress suited her to perfection, hugging her generous hips and showing just the right amount of cleavage. She'd asked him how he'd chosen the actresses on his list. They were all here tonight, and as he studied them now, he marveled at his egotism.

He'd dated his share of women, but he tended to gravitate toward brunettes. So it wasn't surprising that all the actresses who'd made his list were dark-haired.

Now he couldn't think of any other woman but Jillian. Wheat-colored hair, breasts just right for his palms, and a mouth that tasted like paradise. She was a spitfire, blowing hot and cold. She was going to complicate his life, yet he was looking forward to every second of it.

"Why the frown?" Estelle Fitzgerald asked, entering the gazebo. He hadn't seen his mother approach.

"Just thinking." Lex smiled down at her. Her hazel eyes sparkled. She always enjoyed entertaining. "Looks like your party is a success."

"It is, isn't it?" She wrapped an arm around his. "It's nice to hang out with the girls. Sissy, I believe, might have found her next husband tonight."

"The girls" were four of Estelle's sorority sisters, all of them big time movers in the film industry. They were either married or widowed, except Sissy who changed husbands with the seasons. His mother was never short on companions, but she'd never shown interest in remarrying.

"What about you, Mother? Meet anyone tonight?"

She leaned back and harrumphed. "Are you trying to marry me off, Alexander?"

"Dad's been dead a long time, and you are still young."

She chuckled. "Thank you for that, darling, but no. I'm too set in my ways to have some old man telling me what to do."

"Then marry a younger one and tell _him_ what to do."

This time she laughed. "Oh, that's a good one. And very progressive of you. I don't think I'm ready to follow in Sissy's footsteps. Besides, you boys would scare him off." She sighed. "I just want to play with my grandchildren. Grandkids from _all_ of my children."

That was the subtlest she'd ever hinted at wanting to see him settle down. As usual, he didn't rise to the bait.

Silence followed, and then she asked, "Has Jillian left?"

"No. She went to talk to her uncle."

"Wonderful man, Chris Lander. We had a very long and interesting conversation."

Lex frowned. He didn't want his mother pumping people for information on Jillian. "About?"

"Stunts and the illusions of pyrotechnics."

Right. "So you didn't discuss Jillian?"

"Of course not," she protested too forcefully and quickly, a sure sign she was lying. "Not from lack of trying."

Lex liked Chris Lander more and more.

"The man gives new meaning to close-mouthed," Estelle continued. "Barbs told me Jillian's very talented and serious about her work, but very private. She doesn't attend parties, even the ones the studio throws, and she only works with her uncle. So how did you two meet? How long have you known each other?"

Lex pressed a kiss on her temple. "Mother, all you need to know is that she's in my life."

"Is she the one?"

His mother had told him he'd know when he met the right woman. Lex recalled the meeting outside that decrepit trailer at the skydiving school like it had happened only seconds ago. He'd known the moment Jillian had looked at him that he wanted her, but her laugh... ahh. The sound of it was with him even now.

"Yes," he said, not bothering to explain.

A longer silence followed his disclosure.

"What do you know about her family?" Estelle asked.

Lex glanced at his mother and frowned. "Since when do you care about such things?"

His Aunt Vivian, the matriarch of his family, had appointed herself the monitor of the Fitzgerald gene pool. Weeding out undesirables before they became permanent members of their family, she often said. Lex found her attitude ridiculous. Borderline funny. Now he couldn't bear Jillian being subjected to such scrutiny.

"In other words, you didn't have Douglas investigate her background." Estelle grinned as though pleased about something.

That his mother knew about Douglas' many talents didn't surprise him. "No. I knew all I need to know about her family."

"And what is that?"

Instead of answering, Lex watched Jillian leave the house with Chris at her heels. She looked furious. Her quick glance at the gazebo confirmed it, but she didn't come toward him. Instead, she started around the pool. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he had a very bad feeling.

"What do you know about her family?" his mother asked again.

Lex removed his mother's hands from his arm. "They raised one hell of a daughter, Mother, and I'm going to cherish her every second of our lives. Excuse me." He dropped another kiss on her temple and started out of the gazebo.

Jillian had stopped right next to Margo, the lead actress in the movie, and was whispering something to her. He was moving toward the pool when Margo yelled something he didn't get. Then everything happened at once. Jillian's eyes met his as she started toward him, but Margo stepped away from her group of friends and bumped her.

Whether it was intentional or not, they were too close to the pool and Jillian swayed, her arms flailing uselessly before she tipped over. He was racing toward her, pushing people out of his way, when he heard the splash.

Lex stopped at the edge of the pool, squatted, and offered a hand to a drenched Jillian. Eyes flashing, she reached down and removed her shoes. For one brief moment, he was sure she'd hurl them at Margo, who was smiling smugly a few feet away.

Everyone went silent, stared, and waited. The cameraman his mother had hired to take pictures had his forefinger on the button, lens swinging from the actress to Jillian. Lex indicated for him to kill it. Then laughter reached him, and he found the source—Jillian.

It wasn't hysterical laugh. She looked genuinely amused. She pointed her shoe at Margo. "You need to use your shoulder more and keep your arm closer to your side to make it look like an accident. Otherwise, not bad for a dry run."

Margo's frown said she was confused. Then she nodded. The people shook their heads, laughed off the incident, and went back to their conversations. Jillian waded to the edge of the pool and took Lex's hand.

"Dry run?" Lex asked, not buying it.

"Yep. We have a water scene coming up," Jillian mumbled through teeth beginning to chatter, and her eyes said she was pissed. It wasn't until they were inside the house and away from the guests that she added, "That was me improvising. The bitch pushed me."

CHAPTER 8

Lex took her upstairs to a gigantic gray and black bedroom with an equally huge custom-made bed, and led her into the bathroom.

"There are robes and towels in the closet to your right. I'll be right back," he said, sounding calm even though his icy gray eyes were almost silver in their intensity.

Jillian hoped he threw Margo out on her skinny butt. The bitch deserved to be knocked down a peg or two for humiliating her.

"Lex," Jillian said just as he reached for the doorknob. He stopped and glanced at her. "She's not worth it."

"Her behavior was unconscionable and—"

"That of a spoiled celebrity," Jillian finished. "She's a product of her industry, and dealing with her is totally beneath you."

He smiled, but the steely eyes didn't change. "Sweetheart, you have no idea how low I can sink to protect those under my care."

_Cute, but so not going to work for me._ "I don't recall asking you to be my protector, Alexander." He turned and sauntered back to her, eyes thawing as he got closer. "I have to work with her, Lex, and she's more important to this movie than I am."

"Then quit."

She bristled. "I signed a contract. That means something to me."

He hesitated as though debating his next move. "Okay. I'll smile and be polite, but first thing tomorrow morning, I'm adding a clause in her contract that prohibits her from attacking you."

Jillian cocked her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Or any other actress," he added, clearly indicating he didn't care what Margo did to anyone else, except Jillian. He stopped in front of her, reached out, and cupped her cheek.

"Can you really do that?"

The smile he gave her said he could do just about anything.

"Then make it more general. You know, no misbehaving in public."

"You're freezing and should be changing instead of worrying about her." He leaned in and captured her lips in a scorching kiss, until warmth replaced the cold that had crept under her skin. She pressed closer to his warmth, but he broke the kiss and whispered, "You didn't have to ask me to be your protector, Jillian. I took up the challenge the moment you smiled at me across that parking lot at Ferris in your clown makeup and the ugliest wig I've ever seen."

Jillian sputtered in indignation, which earned her a grin from Lex and another silencing kiss. Then he was striding toward the door. "Get rid of those wet clothes, sweetheart. I'll get you something to wear."

"I'm not your sweetheart, and I did not look like a clown," Jillian yelled at his retreating back.

"An adorable clown," he called over his shoulder and opened the door. He glanced at her and added, "Inside that bristly, tough exterior is a total sweetheart, and I'm going to enjoy knowing her."

Jillian opened her mouth to protest, but he was already gone, the door closing behind him. She didn't have a tough exterior, and "adorable clown" was even more insulting. It brought to mind kittens playing with balls of yarn, or cooing babies. Both were distractions, but easily forgotten. Was that how he saw her? A temporary source of entertainment? Just when had he decided she was the perfect material for a fake wife if she'd looked comical?

She couldn't figure Lex out. She'd grown up surrounded by men and knew how easy it was to please them. Feed them, stroke their egos. Give them a remote and a six-pack, and you had them eating out of the palm of your hand. She just had to end up with one so complicated he drove her crazy whenever he opened his mouth. Or closed it on hers.

Sighing, Jillian entered the bathroom and peeled off her wet clothes. Her new dress was ruined. And her silk panties were wet and clung to her skin. She wrapped a towel around them, hoping the towel would absorb most of the water. _Now where did he say the robes are?_

She found one hanging on a peg, ran a hand down the material, and purred as she shrugged it on. From the familiar masculine scent wrapping around her senses, it was Lex's. Despite being humiliated beyond measures, she couldn't ignore the pure luxury of her surroundings.

The bathroom was done in gray marble with blue accents, the sunken tub huge enough to accommodate two people. A mounted TV faced the tub, and the assortment of expensive jars and tubes of—

A knock resounded at the bedroom door, and Jillian jumped.

The knock came again, followed by, "May I come in, dear?"

Estelle Fitzgerald? Jillian tightened the sash of the robe and left the bathroom. She expected the door to open before she reached it. The room was huge. She swept her wet strands away from her face, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Mrs. Fitzgerald's smile was apologetic. "I'm sorry for what happened downstairs, my dear, but Lex tells me you insist the woman be left alone, so I come bearing gifts."

Jillian tried not to fidget when Mrs. Fitzgerald gave her a once over.

"You and I are about the same size," Estelle said. "And I haven't worn this since it was dropped off."

She unzipped the dress bag to reveal a silver dress Jillian recognized from Spring Fashion Week. It was one-of-a-kind, something she could only afford in her dreams. Jillian remembered it because the dress had been a hit with editors and online fashion bloggers, and the designer's collection was featured in one of the top fashion magazines.

"Try it on," Mrs. Fitzgerald urged.

"Mrs. Fitzgerald, I couldn't possibly—"

"Estelle, please, and if you don't accept it, I will be very hurt. You were accosted in my home, at my party, and your beautiful dress is ruined. I have way too many of these just sitting in my closet gathering dust."

Jillian smiled. "It was editor's top pick from Falasha's Spring Collection."

Mrs. Fitzgerald chuckled. "Now you know my secret. I hoard beautiful gowns, but Faith's creation deserves to be noticed. No one will blame you if you choose to stay up here for the rest of the evening. But if you decide to rejoin us..." She pushed the dress into Jillian's arms. "This could show them that a dunk doesn't break you."

Jillian knew a challenge when she heard it. "I think I'll rejoin the party."

Mrs. Fitzgerald grinned. "That's the spirit. Now about some intimate apparels, the dress doesn't need a bra, but—"

"I have that covered," Jillian said, heat rushing to her face.

"Okay then. I'll be back to check on you in case in you need anything else."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Jillian hurried to the bathroom. In seconds, she was studying her reflection. The dress hugged her curves in the right places and moved when she did. The designer—Faith, as Mrs. Fitzgerald had called her—was gifted. The best part was the sleeves, which came to her wrists and covered her bruises.

There was not much she could do with her hair except pin it in a bun. She never went anywhere without hairpins. She also always carried a change of clothing whenever she was doing a scene. Rehearsals were a bitch on her regular clothes. Too bad she hadn't thought of carrying something to the party. Maybe next time.

A knock came just when Jillian finished her makeup. She thought of putting on her panties, but they were still wet and cold. She hid them under her dress in the sink, grabbed her clutch and shoes, and headed for the door.

No one would know she was cruising commando.

Lex stood on the other side of the door. The look in his eyes sent heat shooting straight to her core. She waited for a compliment. Instead, he said, "I think I'm going to enjoy dressing you up."

There he goes again, being unpredictable.

"I'm not a doll, and you're too old to play dress up," she said.

"Ah, but taking them off is so much fun." His voice had gone rough and low, eyelids also low. He stepped forward, invading her personal space, and ran his knuckles down her arms before resting his hands on her hips. He tugged her closer, and she didn't resist. "You look stunning. Maybe we should forget about the party and..." His hands skimmed the fabric, a frown on his face. When he murmured "damn," she knew she was busted.

Jillian pretended not to have heard him, took a step back, and slipped on her sandals.

"Are you wearing anything under that dress?" He sounded outraged, but his expression said he was intrigued.

"Yes, I am," she said. Shoes on, she stood and dared him to call her a liar. "A chainmail with a lock that says keep your hands to yourself."

He laughed. "I cannot let you loose on the poor male population—"

"Oh put a cork in it, Alexander," Jillian said, wrapping her arm around his. "No one will know, except you. And you know about the chainmail."

"I'm going to regret this," he mumbled as they headed for the stairs.

"Which part? Having a human doll to dress up, or the fact that she'll fight you every step of the way?"

"Knowing you're naked under that dress." He pressed a kiss on her temple and said, "And you won't fight me. You're going to love everything Faith designs for you."

Whoever the designer was, she must be a favorite of the Fitzgeralds. Oh, well, if she was going to be a trophy fake wife, she might as well enjoy the ride, including the sex, which was inevitable. She wasn't an idiot or a simpering virgin. The chemistry between them was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, and the only way to let it run its full course was to meet it head on.

~*~

The day after the party, the headlines were cringe-worthy.

**Trouble at the Set of** _Terra Frost_ **: Stunt Double Attacks Margo Jenkins**

Jealousy and Tantrums: Margo Jenkins Accosted by a Jealous Stunt Double

**Delays in Production of** _Terra Frost_ **: Infighting Between Margo Jenkins and Her Stunt** **Double**

They followed Jillian wherever she went. In stores. At the backlot of the studio. Her coworkers talked of nothing else. Jealous? Someone had taken a wrong turn to the corner of reality and delusion. She could never be jealous of Margo.

Margo had never warmed to her as her stunt double and could barely tolerate breathing the same air now. Jillian wasn't sure whether it was the way she'd saved the pool incident by pretending they were rehearsing a scene or the way the Art and Entertainment section of the _L.A. Times_ had displayed Jillian and Lex's picture. Instead of focusing on Margo, the biggest star at the party, the piece had focused on Lex, the reclusive billionaire and his mysterious date. Jillian suspected he had something to do with that. Still, the piece didn't eclipse the tabloids, and soon someone would connect Lex's mysterious date to the drowned rat feuding with Margo.

There was no feud, except in Margo's head. Where the hell had she gotten the idea that Jillian wanted to replace her and had seduced Lex to achieve it?

She didn't get the entire story from Shay on Saturday, but Margo seemed to know that Jillian had talked to Lex before her skydiving scene at Ferris. Somehow, that meeting had made Margo paranoid. Lex might be close-mouthed about the list of actresses he'd selected for his "pretend wife project," but someone at the studio had told Margo that the Fitzgeralds had requested her portfolio. According to Margo, Lex had gone to Perris Valley Skydiving School to see her, but their meeting hadn't gone well because he'd talked to Jillian first. Whatever Lex had told the actress that day wasn't Jillian's doing.

Jillian sighed and raised her arms as the wardrobe assistant finished adjusting her outfit. She wiggled a bit to release the tightness around her chest.

"Is it okay?" the girl asked.

It was a bit snug, but she'd bear it. In the last three days, she'd heard it all. How she would demand special treatment because she was dating Lex.

"It's fine." She sat and let a makeup artist transform her face, her thoughts drifting to last Saturday.

She would have ignored Margo bad-mouthing her _and_ the whispers from the others had the bitch not gone too far and started lobbing her salvos at Chris. Jillian could put up with a lot of smack from anyone any day, but to imply that Chris would behave unprofessionally toward another man? The conniving bitch! Margo had gone after Chris to hurt _her_. That much was clear. Refusing to talk privately then pushing her into the pool had been the last straw. One more word from the actress and she'd give the tabloids a few pictures they'd never procure on their own.

How the hell had the tabloids gotten a hold of the pictures? From the angle of the pictures, several people must have had their cell phones out the moment she nose-dived into the water. No one was talking about the nice pictures of the party in the _L.A. Times_. Yet three days later, everyone was still jabbering on about the ones in the tabloids: the fight, her drowned-rat look, the gloriously radiant Margo glaring at her.

"That's perfect," Chris said, coming to stand beside her.

"Thank you, Rossi," Jillian said to the artist, staring at her reflection and seeing Margo's face. Clown makeup. She giggled, remembering Lex's words. Her eyes met Chris', and the smile disappeared from her face.

Now that it was just the two of them, he studied her makeup, lifted her chin, and frowned. "You okay?"

Jillian nodded. She hated the tension between them. She'd told him the truth about her contract with Lex, and he didn't approve. She was tempted to tell him about her father and the money he owed, but it wasn't her secret to share. Her family didn't even know that she knew. Besides, the bulk of the money had nothing to do with her family. She couldn't help thinking he was judging her. Still, he'd thawed a little after he'd seen Sunday's headlines. He was the one who'd called and warned her.

"Go," he said, nodding toward the middle of the set where the director was talking to Keith. They were about to start filming a fight scene.

Jillian hesitated.

"Don't let them get to you," Chris added firmly, his voice low. "You're bigger and better than this."

She couldn't help wondering if he meant the friction between her and Margo or the contract with Lex. "Thanks."

"Not that you need me to tell you that," Chris added and left.

Sighing, Jillian stared after him. As the stunt coordinator, he choreographed and worked closely with the director on the stunt sequences. Maybe this wasn't about her. Maybe he'd heard the stupid rumors Margo had started about him and Keith. As if Chris would ever cheat on Greg.

Jillian stood, rolled her neck and shoulders, and left the makeup area. They'd been filming at a set for the last three days. Next week, they would be in Vancouver.

Keith saw her and grinned, one eye closing in a wink. If he'd heard the rumor about him and Chris, he wasn't letting it affect him. However, his attitude toward her had changed since the party. She wasn't sure whether he'd bought the rumor about her seducing Lex or not, but he'd been giving her strange looks.

Jillian listened as the director and Chris rehashed the fight. Then she took her cue, and faced Keith. He smirked as they circled each other. A bit irritated, she attacked a second too soon and connected with his ribs. The smile left his face as he took on the persona of his character.

The choreography was simple and straightforward. As the director and camera crew followed them, they chased each other, fought, ran some more, and then she finally face him and executed a roundhouse kick to his head. He ducked, swept his foot, and caught her by her anchoring leg.

Jillian lost her balance and landed on her back. The blue mat cushioned her fall, but the impact was still jarring. Keith pinned her down with his hips, trapped her hands, and pushed them above her head. His head lowered as though he was about to kiss her.

"Stop," the director yelled. "Chris?" The two conferred, then they did it again and again. Jillian was more than relieved when they said it was a wrap.

Instead of standing, Keith continued to pin her down and whispered, "I wish you were the lead actress."

"No, you don't," Jillian said, pushing him with her hips. "The scene is done, Keith." Margo would take her place and continue the scene with a kiss.

"You and I have better chemistry, and she knows it," he whispered. "Barbs noticed and mentioned it a couple of weeks ago. That's why Margo started that rumor. Don't let her get to you. No one believes her."

Margo's friends did, but it was nice to know he didn't. "Thank you. Now, can you get off me?"

Keith jumped to his feet and offered her a hand. They headed to the trailer for a wardrobe change. They had two more action scenes to go. Then she'd be done for the day.

Keith put an arm around her shoulder and whispered, "Have dinner with me, Jill."

She frowned. "I can't. I'm seeing someone."

He stopped, a strange look crossing his face. "The guy financing the movie?"

Jillian wondered if he was thinking Margo could be right. "Yes."

"Is that why his mother is here?"

Jillian followed the direction of Keith's eyes and saw Estelle Fitzgerald talking to Barbs. She hadn't realized Lex's mother was around. They hadn't gotten a chance to speak since the night of the party. Lex was on a business trip and called every evening. She was starting to look forward to his calls and his return on Friday. At least with him, she knew exactly where she stood.

"I'm sure her presence here has nothing to do with me," Jillian said. "She's friends with Barbs."

They entered the building, where an artist was retouching Margo's makeup. The actress glared at them, but Jillian refused to let her get to her. It wasn't easy. She had people loyal to her on the set. Jillian wouldn't be surprised if she'd staged the entire pool scene and had her friends take pictures.

Show business was full of cattiness, and Jillian couldn't wait to kiss it good-bye. All she had to do was take care of her family's financial woes, which meant finding a way to hand over the bag of money to the thugs her father owed, and finish her present movie contract.

_One more month... One more month..._ she chanted under her breath.

Jillian sat and reached for bottled water. While Margo disappeared outside with Keith, Jillian sipped her drink and waited. The catering van pulled up outside the makeup trailer. She'd hoped to be gone before lunch, but they were behind schedule, which meant eating between scenes.

Less than an hour later, Margo stormed into the makeup area. "I'm going to my trailer. Do _not_ disturb me until that oaf remembers his lines," she snapped to no one in particular, snatched up the script, and marched out again, her assistant racing after her.

Silence followed, no one making eye contact. One of the wardrobe people waved Jillian over. She changed her outfit without speaking and headed back outside for her next scene.

What would have taken a couple of takes took nearly five before they got it right. She wasn't sure what had happened between Margo and Keith, but his concentration was shot, which made for terrible acting. Chris also seemed to be pissed. Nothing they did pleased him or the director.

By the time they yelled _stop_ tempers were frayed. Keith stormed off.

"Don't leave," Chris told her. "We'll redo that last scene after lunch."

Great! Margo throws a fit and everyone suffers.

Jillian headed to the trailer, removed the black and purple wig, and shook her hair. The makeup would have to stay. She unbound her breasts and sighed. Spending the next several hours feeling like a mummy was not her idea of fun. Eating with people who stared and whispered was just as bad, but she refused to starve.

Voices came from outside her door, and then there was a knock. Probably one of the assistants coming to tell her she was needed. She yanked open the door and came face-to-face with Lex's mother.

"There you are, my dear," she said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Jillian took a mental step and pasted on a smile. "Of course not, Mrs. Fitzgerald. Come in."

"Estelle, Jillian, or I'm taking this food back," she said, raising a tray with covered silver dome lids.

Jillian smiled. "Thank you, Estelle." Except the dome-covered lunch was Margo's. Poetic justice. With consequences. She often requested special sandwiches from a nearby restaurant and no one was allowed to see what they were.

"They didn't seem to have a variety and the catering people weren't sure what you liked, so I went for the most appetizing sandwiches I could find."

Jillian took the tray from Mrs. Fitzgerald and invited her inside. As she glanced around, Jillian tried not to wince. The trailer she shared with Chris was old, not particularly comfortable, and had shelves of his personal special effects paraphernalia. Not exactly the perfect place to entertain Mrs. Fitzgerald with her designer clothes and jewelry. Jillian pushed makeup containers aside and created room for the tray.

"Sorry, the place is a mess," Jillian said, pulling up the only two chairs in the room.

Lex's mother dismissed her apology with a wave. "No need to apologize, my dear." She looked around with interest. "I always assumed a stunt coordinator would have a lot of special effects things in their trailer. You know, grotesque alien and monster masks, fake body parts..."

Jillian chuckled. "We do physical stuff like fight, jump from high places, roll over cars, and leap from burning buildings."

Mrs. Fitzgerald laughed. "Sounds like fun."

"It is. The grotesque masks are by makeup artists. Although they're more Computer Generated Imagery than real these days."

"CGI," Mrs. Fitzgerald said, sitting down.

"That's right." She got bottled water from the mini fridge while Mrs. Fitzgerald lifted the silver dome lid off the plate. Shrimp salad sandwiches, yummy. There were enough sandwiches for two, which meant Margo was expecting a guest. Screeches came from outside followed by thuds. Margo. She probably chucked something at her poor assistant.

"Uh, that girl," Mrs. Fitzgerald murmured and sighed. "How can you stand working with her?"

Jillian shrugged. "I do my parts and disappear in here until they need me again. She's very talented, and the fans love her."

Mrs. Fitzgerald harrumphed, leaned forward, and said, "And I took her lunch."

Jillian's eyes widened. "You knew it was hers?"

"Of course. A nice young man told me, but I figured she can eat whatever everyone else is eating. It's a small price to pay for nearly ruining my party with her shenanigans. I'm not nice like you, my dear." She passed Jillian a sandwich. "Barbs told me there aren't any pool stunts scenes in the script, so this"—she lifted the second sandwich—"will go a long way to make things even." She took a healthy bite.

Jillian joined her.

"Is it always this exciting around here? What's the latest gossip? Who's sleeping with who? The lead actor is gorgeous. Has he hit on you yet?"

Estelle Fitzgerald was outrageous and lunch turned out to quite interesting. She had Jillian laughing by the second bite. The grilling Lex had predicted never happened. The only time Mrs. Fitzgerald brought up something personal was when they discussed the training Jillian had done to become a stuntwoman. She managed to stick to the training she did as a gymnast and dancer, then the training under Chris.

They were almost done when the door flew open and Margo marched into the trailer. "Jillian! I was told that you took my..." Her voice trailed off when she recognized Estelle. "Mrs. Fitzgerald. I, uh, I didn't know you were here."

"It is customary to knock before barging into a room, my dear," the older woman said calmly with just a touch of condescension.

Margo nodded, her eyes volleying between Jillian, the empty lunch plates, and Mrs. Fitzgerald. "I apologize for the intrusion, but my lunch is missing."

"Well, I do hope you find it. I picked up the first thing I found on the lunch table, and Jillian was kind enough to share it with me. Do close the door behind you, will you?" Estelle added. Margo had no choice but to leave. The look she shot Jillian's way indicated she blamed her for the entire lunch fiasco. Working with her was going to be impossible now.

Margo's intrusion marked the end of their lunch. Jillian walked her guest out, past the staff, who was still eating and stared after them, to the parking lot where a driver waited by a limo.

"About the dress you loaned me," Jillian said before Estelle left. "I'll bring it to your house as soon as I get it back from the dry cleaners."

"Oh no, no, dear. I wouldn't think of it. That dress is yours now."

"But—"

"I insist. You must ask Lex to bring you home to dinner, Jillian. The girls would love to meet you."

Jillian was sure the girls were grown women who'd have no problem asking personal questions. "I'll talk to him."

Estelle surprised her by kissing her cheeks. Then she disappeared inside the limo, rolled down the window, and waved again as they took off. The driver tipped his hat, and Jillian was reminded of Douglas, Lex's driver. Douglas didn't dress so formally. And it was time to call him.

She couldn't procrastinate about paying off her father's debt anymore. Things were moving fast. Soon she'd meet Lex's family, then she'd take him to meet hers, then there was a wedding to plan...

Wedding. She'd avoided thinking about that, but the emotions that coursed through her—excitement, apprehension—were real and hard to ignore. She had to keep reminding herself it wouldn't be the real thing. Still, walking down the aisle, the organ playing, her father's proud smile...

_Delete. Delete. Delete._ It wouldn't be real. Her incessant longing for something that would never come true had to stop.

Blowing out a breath, Jillian pulled out her phone, found the number Lex had given her, and pressed call. Douglas' impersonal voice responded.

"It's Jillian. Lex gave me your number. I hope you don't mind."

He chuckled. "Not in the least, Ms. Finnegan."

"Please, call me Jillian. I hope you're not too busy." She was procrastinating.

"I have plenty of free time with Mr. Fitzgerald out of town. He left instructions to make myself available if you need anything. How can I be of service, Ms. Jillian?"

Jillian chuckled. "You sound just like Alfred Pennyworth," she said. Silence followed. She winced. He probably didn't get the joke about Bruce Wayne's butler. "But I can't see Lex wearing a suit and cape," she added.

"No, Ms. Jillian. But he'd like the Bat mobile."

He got it. He was also right. Lex would go for the car. "I still haven't seen his collection."

"I'm sure he'll get around to showing it."

Jillian blew out another breath and took the plunge. "Did he leave a bag of, uh...?" She couldn't just blurt out _money_. "Uh, a bag for me with you?"

"Mr. Fitzgerald left a briefcase with instructions to bring it to you when you called. Do you want it now?"

"No, I'm still at the studio, but I should be home this evening. Do you think you could drop it off, uh, say around six?" She should be done with this nightmare of a day by then.

"Of course, Ms. Jillian. I'll see you at six."

"Thanks, Douglas." She terminated the call, blew out a breath, and braced herself for a scene with Margo that was sure to follow. Somehow, that didn't worry her as much as the thought of how she was going to hand over three hundred and fifty grand to thugs and leave unscathed.

~*~

Lex leaned back against his seat, rolled the pen between his fingers, and studied the men and women hashing out the details of the contract. His team was on one side and the French on the other side of the table.

The Caribbean island of St. Martin with its duty-free goods was a favorite tourist destination for Americans. Split into two regions, the Dutch side was famous for the festive nightlife, while the French side had its nude beaches. When he'd acquired a resort on the French side, he'd envisioned endless possibilities—renovating the villas, providing unique entertainments, and making the resort surpass the ones on the Dutch side. The rush that often accompanied a new project was missing. Only one thing consumed him now.

Jillian.

The image of her in the silver dress was etched in his brain. Not that she needed outer trappings to set him ablaze. Even in worn-out jeans and a leather jacket over a simple shirt, and hair mussed from a bike ride, she'd taken his breath away. But the silver dress would always be special. That he'd spent the evening knowing that she wore nothing underneath it and did nothing about it was a testament of his self-control.

Lex forced himself to focus on the discussion around the table. He'd pushed his people hard, cramming negotiations that could have taken a week into three days just so he could go home to Jillian. Their conversations, though stimulating, hadn't lessened the gnawing need to make her his. He checked his watch. If he left in the next hour or so, he could be in L.A. by ten tonight. He'd already assembled a team to handle the project and had agreed to work with a local construction company. The bidding should start in a couple of weeks.

He also planned to expand the project to include a helipad and helicopter services to and from the island's two main airports. He'd endured the drive to the resort a few days ago and swore never again. His time was too valuable to spend it in traffic. His guests shouldn't have to deal with that either.

His private cell buzzed. Frowning, he glanced at it and saw Douglas' number. After two rings, it stopped, which meant it wasn't an emergency. Still...

Lex nodded at Hank Beaumont—the head of Caribbean office of Fitz-Valdez—stepped out of the conference room, and walked to the balcony. The air, which was heavy with moisture, thrummed with the island music. Below, tourists sunbathed topless while the daring ones went nude.

He redialed the number. "Douglas?"

"Sorry to interrupt your meeting, sir. You said to inform you when Ms. Jillian asked for the briefcase."

The unease Lex had felt the first time Jillian had asked for the money returned. Why did she need that kind of money? Did she have a gambling problem and owed a bookie? She didn't look the type, but the need to protect her was there.

"Sir?" Douglas prompted.

"Go ahead and take it to her. Call me once you drop it off."

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do, sir?"

Lex smiled. The man had been with him too long and knew him. "Keep an eye on her once you drop off the briefcase. If she leaves her house with it, follow her. Don't interfere. Just make sure she's safe."

There was silence, then, "If Ms. Jillian is in trouble, sir, I can take care of the problem."

Douglas was his secret weapon, the man Lex used to do background checks on prospective employees, deal with security breaches within his companies, and take care of threats to Lex and his family. He had foot soldiers to do his biddings—former buddies who didn't mind making a quick buck now and then. Lex was concerned about Jillian, but he didn't want Douglas following her around yet.

"Not this time, Douglas. I should be back by ten tonight. I'll let you know the exact time."

Hanging up the phone, Lex checked his watch. He needed to close the negotiation and head home.

~*~

"We'll redo that last scene tomorrow morning," the director said, his eyes sweeping past Jillian to rest on Keith. "I don't want to use a stunt double, Keith, but if you want to sit this one out..."

Jillian crossed her fingers and hoped he said no. She was beyond exhausted. She only had two minor scenes tomorrow and didn't mind adding a third.

"I'll be ready tomorrow," the Aussie said, then smiled briefly in her direction and took off.

The strain of dealing with a temperamental actress was getting to Keith. Watching Margo go over her scenes had been painful. Zombies had more life. Maybe she needed a break. No, they all needed a break. They'd been filming nonstop for two months straight. One more month and they'd be done. The plan had been to join her brothers on their tour once she finished. The bike stunts and aerial shows were the heart of the Bay Area Circus. Now her thoughts always went to Lex.

Jillian entered the trailer to find Chris putting away his things. He ran a tight ship, hiring stuntmen and women, choreographing and tailoring each scene to the director's vision, and making sure every gadget worked properly. When the actors didn't get the scene right, he took it personally.

"We'll get it right tomorrow," Jillian reassured him, locking the door. He mumbled something unintelligible. She sighed and started unbuttoning her shirt. How long was he going to treat her like a pariah? She hated the way he was ignoring her.

She studied him from the corner of her eyes.

"That's it," Jillian said, marching to his side. "Yell at me. Tell me how disappointed you are in my behavior. I sold my talent to the highest bidder or whatever, but you can't sulk or give me the cold shoulder. We are family, Chris. We get angry, yell, hug, and make up."

He stood, eyes narrowing. "You think I'm disappointed in you because an opportunity came your way and you took it? You have more talent in your little finger than the actresses traipsing around here, Jillian. And Lex Fitzgerald is lucky you agreed to help him. You are worth every penny he'll pay you."

Her jaw dropped. "Then what's going on? Is it about my bruises on Saturday? I tried a stupid move, and I promise never to do it again."

"You'd better not, or I swear..." Chris sighed. "You just said we're family. Families don't keep secrets from each other. You've always come to me when you have a problem. Why not this time?"

"Uh, I have no idea what you're talking about Chris. If this is about the party—"

"No, it's not. Margo is a child with an oversized ego, but she won't start another malicious rumor or misbehave in public again. Any public misconduct and her contract would be canceled."

Lex had made good on his promise. The man was scary powerful. "Then I don't understand. I've been honest with you about every... Oh. The money."

"Three hundred and fifty thousand of it."

Jillian dropped into the nearest chair and sighed. "I guess I wanted it to go away. I thought if I paid it off, everything would go back to normal."

He frowned. "Is this, uh, money you owe someone? You know you could have come to me. Greg and I would have loaned you the money."

"Oh. Thank you," she said. "But it's not my debt. I don't owe anyone money. Dad does."

Chris shook his head, furrows appearing on his forehead. "Your father?"

Jillian explained what she'd overheard. "I was so hurt, and then Greg called, saying he had a potential client. I assumed it was a weekend thing, a week at most. I figured I'd make the three-fifty and pay off the debt without Dad knowing."

Chris came to where she sat, perched his ass on the edge of the table, and crossed his arms. "You haven't changed. You still charge in solo instead of asking for help. There's always safety in numbers. We'll think up a way to deal with this. Together."

Her throat tightened with gratitude, Jillian jumped up and hugged him. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that. I was thinking of going to the club and scouting the place, then—" She leaned back when he shuddered.

"No solo acts, missy. Where's the money now? I don't think I've ever seen half a million in real cash before."

Neither had she. The money they used in movies was usually fake. "Three hundred and fifty thousand," she corrected him. "Douglas, Lex's man, is supposed to drop it off this evening. I wasn't comfortable having it in my house so I left it with him."

Chris frowned. "That's understandable. Can you ask him to hold off dropping it off until we have a plan?"

Jillian was more than happy to comply. She made the call. Douglas didn't seem bothered by her decision. "Is Lex still coming home on Friday?" she asked Douglas.

"He'll be arriving tonight, Ms. Jillian. He mentioned ten, but it might be later."

A thought came out of nowhere and she ran with it. "Can you pick me up before you head to the airport? I want to surprise him."

Douglas chuckled. "Of course. And may I say that he'll like the surprise?"

CHAPTER 9

Lex's jet had just left Dallas, after refueling, when Douglas called. He braced himself for bad news. "Just a second."

As he left the main cabin for the stateroom, he could almost hear the sigh of relief from his employees. They'd been subdued while watching a game on the big screen TV because of his presence. It didn't matter how long they'd worked for him; there was an invisible barrier between him and them that they refused to cross.

That fact in itself didn't bother Lex. He often stayed in the stateroom unless they were catching up on a project or contract and needed his input. He didn't mind the solitude. In fact, he craved it. His creative juices tended to flow better when he wasn't distracted.

Closing the door, he brought the phone to his ear. "Is she okay, Douglas?"

"She sounded fine when we spoke, sir," Douglas said. "But she canceled the drop off."

Lex frowned, even as relief coursed through him. "Why?"

"She didn't say, sir."

Why had she asked for the money when she didn't need it? Knowing her, she was probably testing him. He didn't care about what she did with the money as long as it wasn't illegal and she was safe. Though the notes weren't marked, the serial numbers could be traced if she was in trouble, like being blackmailed.

"I'll talk to her when I get home. We should be arriving around ten."

"I'll be there with the car, sir."

Lex frowned. "Are you okay? You sound, uh, different."

"Just the sniffles. Nothing serious."

"If you need to rest, I can hitch a ride home with Mathews."

"That's not necessary, sir." Douglas sounded insulted by Lex's suggestions. "I'll be at the airport before ten."

Lex debated whether to call Jillian after he disconnected the call. Asking her personal questions this early in their relationship could ease his mind. Or it could be disastrous. She was prickly and unpredictable. He threw the phone on the bed, and hit the showers.

The stateroom had a queen-sized bed and a private bathroom large enough for two. Jillian flashed in his head. He'd also spared no expense equipping the jet with every comfort imaginable. From the couches and wide leather seats to entertainment units—high-speed internet and unparalleled TV reception feeding a big screen and smaller, personal ones for those with discerning viewing tastes. The galley had a microwave, conventional oven, and a fully stocked fridge and bar. The Boeing 737 was his home away from home.

He'd missed a call, he noticed when he came out of the bathroom, but it wasn't from Jillian. He recognized Sloan Noelle's private number and hit redial.

"Will you be in town by Friday?" his former college buddy asked.

"I'm flying back right now. What's going on?"

"Great. I'm throwing a party on Saturday afternoon, and I want you here."

Lex hadn't been to one of Sloan's parties in months. Sloan threw two-day private parties every month on his private island off the coast of Santa Barbara. The guests were usually the same. At least the men were, all of them former members of his fraternity. The women changed.

"I can't promise anything, my friend," Lex said.

"Come on, man. We haven't seen you since Jocelyn left, and from the looks of things, you have a new lady friend. The boys want to meet her."

"The boys" were men with names on the letterheads of multimillion-dollar corporations they either owned or ran. They'd all made their fortunes during the dot-com bubble and had since diversified. Almost all were single and changed girlfriends often. The few married ones left their children behind for these weekends of decadence. Jocelyn, his ex-girlfriend, had loved Sloan's parties. Lex wasn't sure he was ready to take Jillian to one of them yet.

"Are you hiding her from us?" Sloan asked. "I hope not, because my yacht's reputation is on the line and I'd hate to have Cade stink it up with his call girls."

Lex chuckled. Cade Padwick was a computer genius with a popular social network company. He'd gone public six months ago and made a killing. For whatever reason, he preferred women with questionable reputations. Sloan, on the other hand, was a picky dater.

"I'll call you tomorrow with an answer, Sloan. And stop using your yacht every time Cade comes up with some half-baked bet." He hung up and finished changing, then pinged the flight attendant for a drink. Once she'd served him and left, Lex settled on the bed and turned on the TV to ESPN.

After a while, he switched to news, but restlessness had settled on him. Maybe it was the plan to stop at Jillian's that had him wired, or the fact that she hadn't returned his call. He'd never had to worry about a woman returning his calls. He called and they came. He'd had his share of girlfriends, none long-lasting like Jocelyn, a Brit whose beauty was only matched by her sharp mind and ambitions. They both had family business to take care of and a list of relatives depending on them, so work always came first. So when Jocelyn had packed up and left for London to be the head of her father's conglomerate, he'd understood. That was a year ago. Twice now, she'd flown to the US for meetings and they'd gotten together, but nothing would have come out of their sporadic sexual encounters.

The jet was close to landing when his phone went off. Once again, he thought it was Jillian, until he saw the number on the screen. He brought the phone to his ear. "Mom?"

"You will not believe who I had lunch with today," she said.

Lex smiled and waited.

"Jillian."

Lex tensed. "Why?"

His mother laughed. "What kind of question is that? I went to talk to Barbs, and one thing led to another. I had a fun time with Jillian before that odious actress, Margo, interrupted us. The girl has no manners whatsoever and is impossible to work with. If only Barbs could replace her."

"What did you and Jillian talk about?"

"This and that," Estelle said evasively.

"You went fishing for information about her? Mom, I will not have you harass Jillian with senseless questions."

"Now why would you think I'd do something so tasteless? Is it because you refused to tell me anything about her?" She sighed. "If you must know, we discussed things we have in common."

"You talked about me?"

His mother chuckled. "No, dear. The world does not always revolve around you. We talked about movies and the industry. Your name didn't even come up. But I was hoping you'd have her meet everyone. Maybe on Sunday?"

They had Sunday brunch once every other month. The last one had been two Sundays ago. "Not yet. Maybe the Sunday after. Jillian mentioned filming in Vancouver on Monday, so she might be leaving over the weekend."

"You can fly her out there after she meets everyone."

"No, Mother. She'll meet the family when she's ready." The pilot announced that they were approaching Van Nuys Airport, where Lex usually kept the jet in a private hangar. "I have to go, Mom. We're about to land. I'll stop by the house tomorrow."

"Land where? I thought you were coming home on Friday."

"We flew back early, but I'll stay in the city tonight."

"Oh. Do you and Jillian have plans for tomorrow? We could have family dinner on Friday."

He heard the loneliness in her voice. Since she'd retired, she'd been involved in one charity work after another, but she didn't find them challenging. His mother was smart and driven, and at sixty-two, too young to have retired. He'd thought getting involved with Barb's new production might keep her busy and had invested in it. It wasn't enough to keep her occupied.

"I don't know if Jillian will make it, but I'll check with her. Do you want to have dinner tomorrow night?"

"Oh, that would be lovely."

"Good. I need help with something I'm working on and could use your expertise."

There was silence, then a laugh. "Of course, dear. I'll have Mrs. Sandoval make some of your favorite dishes."

Now he had to find a project for her to work on. Something real or she'd see through his machinations. His mother started Valdez Realtors before she married his father, and continued to run it until Lex took it over and changed the direction of the company. She'd mainly bought and sold existing listings, he preferred to buy, develop, then lease or sell them. He made one more call just as the plane started to descend.

Usually, Lex was the last to leave the jet. Tonight, he was on his feet and heading out the door by the time the jet stopped inside the hanger. He left the stateroom with the briefcase in one hand and his trench coat in the other, his mind on Jillian.

The others peered out the window and grinned. The scene outside was familiar—spouses, girlfriends, or boyfriends waiting to pick up their loved ones. Whether they arrived in the dead of the night or during the day, it was always the same. Often they stood in groups talking. Douglas tended to keep to himself, only stepping out of the car after he saw Lex.

The pilot lowered the airstairs, and Lex was halfway down when the front door of the Rolls opened. Instead of the familiar graying hair, a blonde head appeared.

Lex froze as Jillian straightened, turned, saw him, and waved. Her smile hit him like a punch, sucking the breath out of his chest. Douglas must have decided to let her drive.

Lex took the remaining steps without realizing it and hurried toward her, a vision in white skinny pants and a floral shirt under a black jacket. She somehow managed to look like a siren _and_ the girl next door simultaneously. Lex opened his arms, not doubting for one second that she would step into them.

She did, slipping her arms around him. He didn't care that he was paying her to pretend to be his girlfriend or that the hug was for their audience—his employees. She was in his arms. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled.

He leaned back, noted the empty front passenger seat, and cocked an eyebrow. "What did you do with Douglas?"

"The poor guy lost a bet. He should know better than to bet against me. I only go for sure wins, so here I am, your designated driver and all-around whip girl." A tinkle of laughter escaped her, the sound echoing into the night, sending heat straight to his groin. He had to capture the sound.

Her eyes widened when he lowered his head, but she didn't shy away from the kiss. She met him, the enthusiasm of her response blindsiding him.

A thud told him his briefcase had slipped from his hand and landed on the ground. He sunk his fingers into her hair, anchoring her head in place as he indulged himself. His body pressed into hers, trapping her against the body of the car.

This was coming home. He nudged her legs and settled between them, one hand palming her thigh and lifting it around his hip.

When he broke off the kiss, her lips were puffy and her eyes glazed. Her legs straddled his hips. The position was so intimate he wished they were alone so he could relieve the ache in his gut. He'd never wanted a woman like he wanted Jillian.

He was aware of the others staring and whispering as they walked toward their cars. There was a first for everything, and Jillian couldn't have chosen a better moment to pick him up. After the Sunday article about his mysterious date, this should feed the grapevine at his company.

"You're a ruthless bastard, you know that?" she whispered, sounding both annoyed and aroused.

"When I know what I want, I go after it." He planted another kiss on her lush lips. "What's this about a bet?" Did this mean the three-fifty _was_ a gambling debt?

Instead of answering him, she wiggled, silently asking him to let her go, but he wasn't ready to do that yet. He liked the position. Besides, he had a massive erection, and even though he didn't mind her knowing about it, he didn't want his employees observing his lack of control. Her wiggling didn't help.

"You keep up that seductive rub and I'll carry you over my shoulder to the nearest bed, which just so happens to be inside the jet."

She went still, a gleam entering her eyes. She glanced at the others, nodding at a few. They were starting to drive off. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "You're pushing it, pal."

"I don't think I have anything to do with _it_ ," he teased. "That's all you."

She groaned in exasperation, her warm breath fanning his ear and stroking his senses. Then she did something totally unexpected. She bit him. Trapped his earlobe between her teeth and bore down hard.

The sting was nothing compared with the surge of pure lust that shot through him. He groaned, his erection jerking in response. She went still, let go of his ear, and stared at him with round eyes as though surprised he hadn't yelped or pushed her away.

"Do it again," he challenged.

Her eyes narrowed. "You're a freak."

"Depends on what you consider a freak." He lowered her down and picked up his briefcase and coat. Jillian avoided his eyes and nodded at his last employee, who was getting into his car, his wife openly staring at them. Lex waved briefly to them.

"Where exactly did you leave Douglas?"

"Sick in bed." Her eyes met his. She had recovered from their kiss. Too bad. Arousal looked good on her. "Don't be mad at him. He looked like hell when he came to pick me up. I knew he was sick, but he kept denying it." She rolled her eyes. "So I made a bet with him. If he had a fever, he was going straight to bed."

Lex was more than relieved. Some gambler she was. He opened the back door and threw his suitcase and coat in the back seat.

"What is it with men and being sick?" Jillian asked. "I had to force him to take medication, to eat some soup, and to get in bed before I left. And do you know what he kept doing? Calling me every five minutes to make sure I was on my way. He even insisted I call him when the plane touched down. I have a feeling he wants to apologize for not personally picking you up." She scoffed at the idea. "Like being sick is his fault. Oh, and part of our bet was no calls warning you that I was picking you up. I wanted it to be a surprise."

Douglas' quarters were attached to Lex's penthouse, so keeping an eye on him wouldn't be a problem. He'd done it before. The poor guy didn't have anyone except an ex-wife, who was now remarried, and a teenage daughter, who lived with her mother.

"Let's go," he said, opening the car door. "I'll check on him when I get home."

"Oh. That's sweet."

Lex grimaced. "I depend on him for everything."

She laughed. "Right. I know about how you've been there for him. He told me everything you've done for him and his family. Don't you have luggage?"

Lex stopped, glanced at the plane, and frowned. He was so used to Douglas taking care of his personal things he'd completely forgotten. The flight attendant, pilot, and copilot were still inside the plane. "It's back in there."

"Oh. Someone will bring it out for you," Jillian said.

Lex heard her teasing and shot her a glance. "Not tonight. Douglas isn't here. I told you he does everything."

"Well, don't look at me. I'm driving, not carrying and fetching."

He fought a smile. "No, sweetheart. You _drove_ here, but you're not driving us home. Not if I want to get there in one piece. You treat the road like your personal playground," he added and walked past her, knowing she'd follow. Jillian, he was quickly learning, liked to have the last word.

"I can't believe you'd say that. I'm an amazing driver. I got here in one piece." She followed him. "I didn't even speed."

He ignored her and started up the airstairs.

"Okay, so I did speed a little," she added. "But the cop who stopped me was nice."

Lex stopped and turned. "You were speeding in _my_ car?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I couldn't help it. It's such a smooth ride. And you have a constellation on the roof of your car." She stopped a step below him and cocked her eyebrows. "What?"

He studied her and reached a decision. "Okay. You can drive."

She laughed. "Yes! I mean, thanks."

"No speeding."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Although with you in the car, the cops would just wave us by."

"I'm not above the law."

"I know, but isn't your uncle with LAPD? He can fix the ticket for us."

Lex imagined how his uncle would react to such a request. "No. Come on."

"I told you I don't carry or fetch."

"Then I guess your present stays in the plane."

"Oh." She seemed lost for words. "You bought me something?"

"Of course, I did." He reached out and touched her cheek. "Let's not keep the others waiting."

The crew was about to disembark when they entered the plane. Sienna Whitfield, the flight attended, had her case and his. The co-pilot, Darren Ray, held the gift basket he'd bought Jillian. Mathews was doing his rounds. Within moments of introducing him to Jillian, she had Mathews showing her the cockpit. Lex caught snippets of their conversation. They were discussing engines and mileage of the Boeing. Typical. When he turned around to take his suitcase, the flight attendant and the co-pilot were already on the ground and walking toward the Rolls Royce. He went to join them.

"Thanks." He stashed his suitcase in the back and placed the fruit basket in the back seat. He'd make sure they were well compensated for going above and beyond their duties, and maybe even use them again on his next flight. They were both from the same agency. They were taking off when he went back to the plane.

Jillian and Mathews were laughing at something when he rejoined them. A feeling he couldn't explain washed over him. Not liking or understanding it, he went straight to the stateroom to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything instead of joining them.

~*~

What the hell was that? Jillian watched Lex as he disappeared inside a room. Did he have a problem with her talking to his pilot? She hoped not. The last thing she needed was a jealous fake husband.

"Thanks for showing me around, Mathews." She shook the pilot's hand.

"You're welcome."

Jillian headed outside to the car, started the engine, and ramped up the heat. Her phone went off. She saw the caller ID and groaned. She brought the phone to her ear. "You should be fast asleep, Douglas."

"Did you pick him up?"

Lex left the plane first. She watched him saunter toward her, his walk graceful. Even after hours on a plane, everything about him was perfectly in place—from the tailored pants to his thick head of hair. It made him both sexy and intimidating. Earlier, she'd been caught up in the moment and walked into his arms like she belonged. The kiss had been surprising and so typical of him. He tended to dominate. The problem was it made her want more. His lips on her body. Between her legs.

"Ms. Jillian?" Douglas asked, yanking Jillian to the present.

"Yes, Douglas. I got him. He wants you to rest and stop worrying. He'll check on you when he gets home."

"Drive carefully."

What a worrywart. "Will do."

Lex slid in the front passenger seat and brought with him his masculine scents. The effect on her didn't surprise her anymore. Heat pulled low in her belly. The spacious car suddenly seemed too small.

He glanced at her. "Why did you leave? I was going to show you the rest of the plane."

Jillian had to clear her voice before saying, "I didn't want to intrude. You ready to go?" she asked, shrugging off her jacket.

"Somehow I know I'm going to regret letting you drive," he said, buckling up.

"You have trust issues, Lex." She put the car in gear and eased out of the tarmac.

"I'm letting you drive, aren't I?"

Jillian rolled her eyes. She turned right toward Victory Boulevard instead of taking Vanowen. "You know what your problem is? You control everything and everyone around you, so you don't know how or when to let go."

"Does that mean I control you, too?" he asked in a voice gone husky, his arm coming to rest on the edge of the back of her seat.

She laughed. If he moved any closer, she might just forget she was driving, turn her head, and kiss him again. "In your dreams."

"You have no idea what things I do to you in my dreams."

Not as naughty as what she did to him in hers. "No man will ever control me, Alexander."

"Oh, sweetheart, never issue a challenge to a man with a single objective." He lifted her hair from her neck and ran feather-light strokes along her nape.

The car swayed as Jillian lost control. _Dang it!_ She trembled and hoped he didn't notice. "We're going to end up in a ditch if you continue with that," she warned.

"Am I bothering you?"

"No." _Yes._ She leaned back and pretended his touch wasn't distracting her.

His fingers slipped under her collar. Her breath quickened. This time she couldn't control the shudder that rocked her body. Worse, her nipples pebbled under her silk shirt.

"What are you doing, Lex?"

"Trying to prove a point," he said in an amused voice. "Real trust is putting your life in the hands of someone with the power to take it. You have a sensitive neck," he whispered, moving closer. "How about this?" He lifted her hair out of the way, stroked her ear, and then trailed his finger down to her collarbone.

Jillian shuddered. She really should tell him to stop, except she didn't want to. It had been too long, and this was the most fun she'd had with a man in almost a year.

"And these." He grazed her nipple closest to him.

Jillian sucked in a breath. If this was his way of proving he trusted her, he should do it every day. The wanton in her wanted to see how far he'd go. The daredevil liked that he was doing it while she was behind the wheel.

She turned left onto Victory Boulevard and headed toward Burbank. It was almost eleven and there was still some traffic, but it was dark enough to hide his sensual exploration.

"Your belly button?" He reached down and slipped a hand under her shirt to caress her stomach.

Jillian jerked, her foot pressing on the gas pedal. The car accelerated. Lex chuckled, but his hand kept stroking her belly. The feel of his large hand on her skin was heavenly.

"Remember, I don't have control over you."

Oh so that was what his sensual exploration was about? His movements were unhurried, his voice silky with decadence. He was driving her crazy. She glanced at him and caught the wicked gleam in his eyes. He was watching her every reaction, probably noting that she was beginning to breathe erratically and her nipples were pushing against her shirt.

"Eyes on the road, sweetheart," he warned and Jillian's eyes flew forward. The next second, she whispered "Fuck!" as his fingers swept under the waistband of her stretchy pants.

"I'd love to, but you'll have to settle for this." He slipped under her silk panties.

Jillian tensed with anticipation. Her leg, the one not pressing the pedals, fell back against the door as she tucked her hips forward to give him access.

"Hmm," he murmured as he moved over her nether hair, parted her labia, and found the sensitive nub. "You are so wet and hot."

That was an understatement. She was burning and dripping. Her thighs trembled, hips lifting as he moved one finger over her moist clitoris. Jillian closed her eyes as sensation rocked her body.

"You can't close your eyes, babe. Remember, I trust you to get us home safely."

Jillian glanced at him again. If this was a lesson, she'd failed it the moment he'd flicked his finger across her nipple. She nodded and tried to focus on driving. But how could she when each stroke across her sensitized flesh was driving her insane? More fingers joined the first one, two parting her, while the middle one teased her and pushed her higher and higher.

She tried to move her hips and push against his hand, but everything worked against her—her jeggings, the seat belt, Lex's hand holding her firmly in place. He was in control.

"Please," Jillian begged. "I have to pull over."

"No, keep driving," he ordered.

Her ass was almost off the seat, her heavy breathing filling the car and mixing with the wet sounds he made as he pushed his fingers in and out of her pussy. Sex on the highway was a first for her. Possibly, the most insane thing she'd ever done, and it was exhilarating. Cars zipped past them. She was going at half the speed limit as the pressure built inside her and pleasure fanned out from her core.

"Lex," she moaned.

"Focus on the road. You are in control."

Damn right she was. She took one hand off the steering wheel and grabbed his wrist. At the same time, she widened her one leg and anchored it firmly against the door. She was setting the pace now, racing toward a mind-numbing orgasm.

Lex reached with his other hand and firmly guided her hand back to the steering wheel while he continued to stroke her, his movements fast, firm, and smooth. Jillian knew she was going to blackout when she came.

That she could still be rational amazed her, but she flipped on the turn signal, pulled up on the shoulder of the road, and shifted gears to park. Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she arched her back and yelled words she'd never dared utter with a lover as the first wave hit her.

Her body convulsed around his fingers, but he didn't stop. Her body shook as she curled and hugged the steering wheel, her breathing shallow, her thighs wrapped tight around his wrist. The convulsion didn't stop.

Fuck yeah!

Through the blood pounding through her veins, she heard him say, "Beautiful."

_Beautiful_ couldn't begin to describe what had just happened. Insane. Possibly the best hand job she'd ever had. She rested her sweaty forehead on the steering wheel and exhaled, willing her head to stop spinning, her heart to cease its offbeat rhythm, and the ringing in her ears to ebb. It took forever.

Funny she wasn't even embarrassed by what had just happened. How could she be when he'd opened up a possibility she'd never considered before? Sex could actually be better than all the daredevil activities she loved.

Suckling sounds filled the car, and she turned her head to find the source. Lex was licking and sucking on his fingers.

"Hmm, love how you taste," he said. She could hear the laughter in his voice.

"You are insane," she said.

"But we're not in a ditch."

This couldn't be a lesson in trust. This was about control. That he could make her curse like a sailor and scream his name with a touch of his fingers. And what beautiful, long, and talented fingers they were. Jillian squeezed her thighs, the remnants of the orgasm making her throb.

"Nice way to prove a point," she said, sitting and trying to find a comfortable position that didn't involve her sensitized organ rubbing against her panties.

"Nice? I thought that was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I wished we weren't in such a public place. I would have turned on the lights and appreciated it better."

Now he worried about being in public? Jillian's eyes went to his crotch, and a fierce longing washed through her. She wanted him. Wanted to see him naked. To hold and stroke him, and drive him crazy the way he'd done to her.

"Do you want to drive the rest of the way?" she asked, her eyes lifting to his. The light from the headlights wasn't enough to show his expression, but she heard the amusement in his voice again when he responded.

"No, sweetheart. I'm perfectly fine letting you be in charge."

_Yeah. Right._ Jillian's eyes dipped again to his erection. Her palm itched with a need to touch him. "I can take care of that for you."

He chuckled. "I know." He palmed her wrist and placed it on the steering wheel. Jillian hadn't realized she'd reached for him. "Not here."

"I don't believe in double standards, Lex. It skews things. You mess with my head, I mess with yours."

"I'm counting on it," he said, and anticipation shot through Jillian.

CHAPTER 10

_I'm counting on it_.

The words echoed in Jillian's head as she fired up the engine and eased back onto the freeway. She'd had her normal fantasies about Lex since the moment they met, but after this highway stunt, her imagination went into hyper-drive.

She saw herself naked, straddling him, telling him what to do with his fingers and tongue. His hands stroking her body, his mouth buried between her legs, making her squirm and buck as she came again. His pulsing erection in her hand... in her mouth.

Doubts crept in. What if sex between them complicated their relationship? She hadn't even taken the money her family owed, but she was already getting in too deep with him.

Oh, who cared! She wanted him. The things she planned to do to him. He rested his arm on the back of her seat and rolled locks of her hair between his thumb and fingers. The same fingers that had...

No, she wasn't reliving that. Not yet. Jillian swallowed past a tongue gone dry as she overtook slow-moving cars, swerving and banking. What was happening to her? She'd never felt like this about a guy. It was both scary and exciting. She entered her street, her heart pounding with each second that passed.

"How are things at the studio," Lex asked, and her jaw nearly dropped.

He wanted to talk now? All she could think about was what they were going to do for the rest of the evening.

"Okay," she said in a voice she didn't recognize and chuckled, because there was nothing okay about working with Margo or having this conversation with him. "Nothing I can't handle."

"You still won't tell me why she attacked you?"

What good would that do? He didn't need to know that his list was somehow responsible for Margo's insecurities. Jillian eased into her designated parking spot, switched off the engine, and shifted to face him. Her eyes went to his mouth as the sensual thoughts returned. She would never look at him the same again.

"She started a rumor about Chris, and I wasn't letting her get away with it," she said in an overly bright voice. "Did you meet her at Perris Valley Skydiving?"

Lex frowned. "I might have. Barbs introduced me to a few actresses, but there was nothing memorable about any of them. What's your schedule like tomorrow?"

She didn't want to talk about tomorrow. Her door was only a few feet away, damn it. Images of Lex kissing her, bending her over, tying her to the bed in new and exciting sexual positions flashed in her head. Damn. Her mind was turning into a pay-per-view X-rated channel when he was probably waiting for her to get the hell out of his car so he could drive home. She shook her head to dislodge the vivid sexual fantasies.

"I have two scenes in the morning, and that's it. That is, if Margo doesn't have another meltdown."

"So you'll be done by lunch?"

"I hope so."

"Have lunch with me tomorrow."

She'd agree to anything to make the conversation end. "Okay."

He reached out and cupped her face. Finally. "I came home early to spend more time with you," he said in a voice like melted chocolate. "I want tomorrow and the weekend."

She grinned. "Yes." Then what he'd said registered. "I can't Friday. I'm helping my brothers with something until nine." They usually rehearsed for hours before their performance. She could not miss the gig with her brothers, not even for him. "I'm not filming in the morning. The Vancouver filming is still up in the air, but if we're going, we'll probably leave on Sunday. We only have one more month of filming, then I'll be all yours."

"I like that." He leaned in, a wicked gleam entering his eyes. Her entire body flushed, and she tried to backpedal.

"I mean I'll be available for, uh, whatever you have planned for us."

"Just like you said, _all mine_ ," he whispered against her lips.

His warm breath against her lips sent a shiver up Jillian's spine. "I haven't signed another contract, though Chris mentioned a few. I plan on seeing what I can do while—"

His mouth cut her off, tongue thrusting inside to take possession of her senses. His hands gripped the back of her head as he anchored her to him and plundered her mouth. She couldn't breathe, think, or move. Oxygen was overrated, and the mind was wasted at a time like this. Everything was primal. Basic. And he was an amazing kisser. She tore her lips from his.

"Inside," she ordered.

She didn't wait to see if he followed. He'd better. She was at the door, unlocking it when he pressed his hard body against hers, his erection heavy on her lower back. She wasn't exactly short and wore heels, but he still dwarfed her. He pushed her hair out of the way, buried his face on her neck, his mouth and teeth on her skin as his hands cupped her breasts.

Those clever fingers teased her nipples. Jillian moaned, but she wasn't turning into a puddle outside her door. The light in the parking lot was lit, which meant her neighbors were getting to view without paying. She pushed the door open and pulled him inside, where she'd left the foyer light on. His hungry eyes were locked on her.

"Jillian—"

"I don't want to talk, Lex. Not unless you plan to tell me how much you want me. And how many times you plan to make me come tonight."

He blinked at her, and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. Jillian paused as uncertainty flickered. Had she gone too far? Did it matter? She refused to chicken out. She wanted Lex. Not tomorrow. Not next month. Right now.

She wasn't going to pretend to be something she was not either. She could clean up and act like a lady when need be, but in the privacy of her home, she stayed true to herself. She didn't need to impress him. Theirs was a temporary arrangement. Even the sex might only last a few months before it got old. She'd seen enough trophy wives and marriages of conveniences in Hollywood to know the script. He'd go back to his favorite pastime—making more money—while she found a pool boy or a tennis instructor to relieve her of her boredom.

"Any objection?" she asked, starting to unbutton her shirt.

A smile curled his lips. "Not a single objection. I plan to fuck you hard and fast, then slow and gentle. The sky is the limit on orgasms."

Jillian grinned. She walked backward, appreciating the image he made striding toward her as he toed off his shoes and yanked the tails of his shirt from his pants. She caught a glimpse of hard abs and dark hair disappearing under his pants and her breath caught. She couldn't wait to feast on him.

She pulled off her shirt and turned to enter her bedroom with him right behind her. The decor she'd chosen for her house was contemporary—from black and white living room furniture and abstract paintings to the ultramodern kitchen. But her bedroom was her queen-dom. It was romantic and sensual. From the gold Indian silk duvet cover and the satin sheets under it to the dozen colorful, fluffy pillows propped along the headboard. The translucent white window covers threaded with gold matched the chenille rug by the fireplace. LED candles and the scent of freshly cut roses created the final touch.

Lex didn't show any interest in the room, his eyes not leaving her. She removed her bra and stood naked waist up, her heart pounding. A moment of uncertainty returned and part of her wanted to cover her breasts, but she fisted her hands and waited. Her nipples pebbled under his heated gray eyes.

She'd had men stare at her with lust, but none ever affected her like this. He turned her on in ways she never knew possible. His shirt hung loose, the buttons undone, a glimpse of his powerful body teasing her. He was a big man, powerfully built, every muscle defined and molded. She wanted to rub her body against his, feel his muscles ripple under her palms, feel the weight of his body as he entered, filled, and stretched her.

Legs weak, she sat on the bed and unzipped her boots.

"Allow me," Lex said, a gleam in his eyes. Taking one leg, he pulled the boot off, then the second one. "I've wanted to unwrap you since the first day we met," he whispered, fingers hooking under her pants and thong and pulling them down.

He went down with them and knelt in front of her as he finished stripping her. His face was right by the joint between her legs, and all she could think about was his mouth on her. The wetness slipped onto her inner thighs.

~*~

The heat from her pussy made Lex's mouth water. It was pink and plump, her wheat-colored bush trimmed so it was the barest patch of hair in the middle. The hair glistened with her juice, inviting him to touch and taste, and indulge himself to his heart's content.

He looked up slowly, completely in awe of her beauty. Hips wide, stomach flat, she was in amazing shape without being skinny. Her breasts were perfect, the nipples pink against her skin. They begged to be sucked, but first things first.

"Tell me what you want," he said. Jillian watched him from underneath her lashes, the look challenging and seductive. "Another finger fuck?" he said and watched her eyes widened. He leaned closer and blew on her mound. "Or should I just feast on you?"

She grinned. "All of it. I want it all."

He nudged her until she plopped on the bed. He didn't have to ask before she spread her thighs, her lips parting until he could see her clitoris peaking between them. It was moist and swollen. He stroked it with his right index finger, and a moan escaped her. His eyes found hers. She was watching him, her lips slightly parted, eyes glazed.

"You like that?"

"Yes," she breathed out, the words part moan, part sigh.

"I love your pussy," he said, sliding his index finger inside her. She released a shaky breath. "It's plump. Wet. Perfect." She wiggled against his hand, her muscles tightening as though to hold on to his finger. He blew on her heated nub, and she moaned. He knew what the cold did to heated flesh. If he had ice, he would have rubbed it on her, before replacing it with his mouth.

"Tell me how you like this." He added his middle finger, pushing them in and out of her. She was wet, her powerful muscles clenching. He moved from the floor and joined her, kissing her lush lips. Gently at first, then deeply as his fingers continued to stroke her. She bucked and writhed, hands all over his body, gripping his head, trying to tug at his pants. He worked his way to her nipples and nuzzled the valley between them.

"Please," she begged him, angling her body and offering him her breasts, but at the same time grinding against his fingers. He took a nipple between his teeth and bore down while laving the tip with his tongue. She nearly pushed him off her.

"Yes," she urged him. "Just like that."

He hated to let go of her perfect breasts but there would be time to devote to them later. She was close to coming again, and he wanted her to come in his mouth.

"I've wanted to do this since I met you," he whispered, and lapped at her swollen clit.

Her thighs clenched and her hips lifted off the bed. He used the tip of his tongue to tease that sensitive nub. He spread her labia and blew on her swollen clitoris. She cried out this time.

"Do you know how you taste? Like nothing I've tasted before. Something to be savored slowly."

She moaned and pushed her hips against his face. He knew what she wanted and he complied, using his tongue, lips, and teeth. She grasped the back of his head and pulled him closer.

"Yes, right there, Lex. Yes."

He gripped her firm ass and focused on giving her the orgasm she so desperately wanted. Her scent, the taste of her, and the whimpering sounds egged him on. Her breathing grew raspy, her thighs gripping the sides of his head as her hands pulled on his hair. He didn't feel pain. All he could hear, smell, or taste was her.

"Lex!" she wailed as her body convulsed.

He didn't stop until her movements slowed down and his name was an echo in the room. She went limp, and he stood and stripped. Her eyes followed his every movement. They widened when his cock sprung free.

"Oh my," she said, awe in her eyes.

"Standard equipment," he mumbled.

"No," she said and sat up. "It's perfection. Long. Thick. Beautiful." But she didn't reach out for him. Instead, she stared at his cock like it was a work of art. At least she didn't think he was a freak of nature.

Lex fisted his thick arousal and ran his hand up and down the shaft. "Do you want to touch it? See how it feels?"

Jillian nodded, her eyes followed his hand as he stroked himself. He stepped closer and she wrapped both of her hands around him, one closer to the base and the other above it. She pumped him, and he groaned, his stomach and butt muscles contracting.

She brushed her thumb over the sensitive tip, and he shuddered. Her hand on him felt so good. He was deliberately prolonging the foreplay to cool his blood, yet as she stroked him and watched him with those sexy eyes, he realized that letting her touch him was a bad idea.

"That's enough," he said in a hoarse voice.

The corner of her mouth lifted in a saucy smile, and his breath stalled in his chest. That smile had the power to do things to his insides that he still couldn't explain.

"I've wanted to do this since we met," she repeated his earlier words and claimed him. Those beautiful lips closed around his cock, her sexy mouth taking him all in. Her mouth was hot and slick.

"Oh... fuck."

Lex ground his teeth and clenched his hands to keep from exploding in her mouth. She sucked and licked, teased the velvet top with her tongue. When it became unbearable, he eased his throbbing cock out of her mouth. She protested.

"But I want to—"

"Not yet," he said, wrapping his large hands around her waist and shifting her to the middle of her bed. He loved what she'd done with the room. It was like a love nest.

He lowered himself beside her and kissed her, their tongues waltzing to a tune as old as heaven. He trailed kisses down her neck and took one rosy nipple into his mouth while he played with the tip of her other breast. She gasped and arched her back. The next second her hand left his head and moved over his shoulders. Hips lifted as she rubbed against him as though she craved skin contact.

Lex wanted nothing more than to give her what she wanted. Spread her knees and take her hard and fast, but that would ruin everything. He wanted her to remember their first time. He reined in his needs and focused on discovering the texture of her skin. The taste of her nipples. The sensitive spots that made her purr or drove her wild. The sounds she made.

He slid a thigh between her legs and pinned her down as he explored her neck and breasts. Her nipples were sensitive, and her neck... He buried his face at the base and took nips. She shuddered, lifted her hips, and rubbed her swollen clit against his thigh. It wasn't long before she cried out again as another orgasm hit her. She could come all night long and he'd never get tired of hearing her cry out as she fell apart.

Lex was raised to talk and act a certain way. His family was large and his elders had high expectations of him, and he'd delivered. His younger siblings emulated him. At work, at home, he had to be a perfect employer and son. The only time he was ever himself was in the confines of his home, in his bedroom. Then he played by his rules, bowing to no one and nothing.

Some women expected the same charm and refinement he portrayed in public and boardrooms and found his behavior in the bedroom barbaric, the dirty talk insulting, the games demeaning. They left his bed never to return. The curious ones soon realized what he could do with what nature had given him and wanted more. But never did he dream he'd find a woman who matched his sensuality like Jillian did.

He took one of the pillows and slid it underneath her perfect ass. Then he sat on his haunches and studied her. He burned the image of her creamy skin, her luscious curves, the sheer perfection of her pussy into his memory.

He wanted to eat her again, but... "Not a good idea."

"What?" she whispered, her voice tinged with panic.

"Condom."

Lex had never moved so fast. In seconds, he'd removed one from his wallet and was back kneeling between her legs, ripping the foil and sheathing his hard cock. His hand shook slightly, his eyes volleying between his throbbing erection and the glistening flesh waiting for him.

Kneeling between her legs, he angled the tip of his cock between her wet labia, then locked eyes with her. He wanted to see her expression as he slid inside her and made her his.

Supporting his weight on his elbows, he slid into her an inch at a time. Even dripping wet, she was tight, her powerful muscles hugging him. He fought for control as he pushed in gently. She jerked upward to meet him, gripping his ass to pull him in.

"Whoa, slow down—"

"I need to feel you inside me." She raised her legs, wrapping them around his waist, and lifted her hips. He bore down, and she hissed as he became fully sheathed inside her slick heat. Her muscles convulsed around him as another orgasm rippled through her.

He gritted his teeth as her muscles contracted. He refused to let go. Not this soon. He needed to savor her, make her come again.

"That's never happened before," Jillian whispered, her eyes glazed as she searched his face. Lex closed his eyes tight, every muscle in his body taut with tension, but she was sucking him in. He wasn't going to make it.

"I can't stop," she wailed like it was something terrible. She couldn't be far from the truth. He fought for control and won.

"Don't ever stop coming for me." He pushed her legs up toward her shoulders, almost folding her into herself, lifted himself until he left her warmth, then plunged back inside her. Again and again, he withdrew and buried his throbbing cock inside her heat.

Jillian bucked wildly, thrusting against him, whimpering and shuddering with each stroke. Determined to prolong her orgasm, he slammed in and out of her like a deranged man. She cried out, and at first he thought he was being rough, but then he heard her.

"Yes, Lex. Faster. Fuck me, baby. Harder. Right there. Yes. Again. Again."

Gripping her hips, he pounded into her, his heart drumming hard in his chest, sweat glistening on both their skin. Knowing his savagery heightened her pleasure was like a pure shot of adrenaline. She urged him on, screaming her pleasure, telling him how she liked it.

His chest hurting with his breath, he flipped her over, clasped her hips, and angled himself for maximum penetration. He entered her in one hard thrust, his hips locking with her shapely ass.

She didn't cry out this time. _He_ did.

She arched her back as he pumped into her, gripping her hips, moving her forward and backward to meet his thrusts. He reached down, cupped her breasts, and teased her nipples. She lowered her head and shoulders to the bed and her perfect, firm ass angled for his pleasure. The position was sexy and erotic for what he had in mind. Blood roaring in his ears, he took her like a maniac.

"Oh, yes, Lex. Oh, God, yes. You got it. Right there."

Egged on by her enthusiasm and unadulterated response, nothing else mattered other than giving her one more orgasm and triggering his. The scent of sex hung in the air. The sounds of their coupling echoed around the room.

"Come with me, again, Jillian," Lex whispered hoarsely. "Come with me."

She let out a chain of curse words that would have stopped a sailor in his tracks as her movements became out of control. Then she went still as though she'd reached the eye of the storm. Lex couldn't slow down. A tingle started at the base of his lower back and worked its way to his core. At the same time, the spasms started deep inside her. She became a vortex, clenching and sucking him into her body. As they both shuddered, his cock jerked and vibrated in her tight sheath. He threw his head back and shouted his release.

The explosion rocked his body, draining his energy and making his gut ache. He shuddered again, and Jillian echoed it as though she was an extension of him. They stayed locked in that position, neither willing to move.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a voice so hoarse he didn't recognize it as his. Still, she didn't speak.

He eased out of her and released his death grip on her waist. Jillian dropped on her stomach like a rag doll, her breathing harsh, her skin drenched with sweat. All he wanted to do was fall on top of her and never move again. But then he saw the marks he'd left on her skin.

Damn it. What had he done? He'd always been careful with women he'd slept with. Even though he liked variety in sex, sometimes gentle and other times rough, he always made sure he didn't hurt his women. He should have been more careful with Jillian, too. He'd lost his head and marred her perfect skin.

"Jillian, I'm so sorry."

She glanced at him with glassy eyes, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes focused, and she must have seen the remorse on his face. Without understanding it, she turned and lifted her arms to him. "Come here."

He slid beside her and pulled her into his arms. She kissed his forehead, his cheek, kept going down, until her mouth reached him. A tremor coursed through Lex's body. She gave him tiny, gentle kisses, comforting him without knowing why, until their hearts stopped racing and their breathing leveled.

"Why are you sorry?" Jillian asked.

"I was rough and left bruises on you," he whispered.

She chuckled. "I bruise easily. It's nothing."

"But you went still during the last orgasm. You just froze. I thought..."

"That you hurt me, I know," she said, gently rubbing his chest. "No, Lex. You didn't hurt me. You made me feel something I'd never felt before."

He frowned, not sure whether this was good or bad. "What?"

"I'm not sure. It was, uh, nothing like I've ever felt before."

That was good. He grinned. Then her knee moved and brushed against his flaccid cock. It stirred. Time for round two. "Where's your bathroom?"

~*~

When Lex returned from the bathroom, Jillian rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She was sweaty and sticky, and needed a shower, but she couldn't move if an earthquake ripped through her condo. Never had a man made her come so many times, each stronger than the one before it.

The things he did with his fingers, his mouth, and tongue. And the way he angled his hips so that amazing erection of his found her erogenous zone...

"You are very good at sex," she said.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and sending shivers through her. "You were there with me all the way."

He didn't get it. She'd never had orgasms like that before. She'd had hot sex. Kinky sex. Quickies. But nothing compared to what he'd done to her. It was as though he had some secret knowledge of how a woman's body worked. And watching him as he stroked his hard cock with no inhibition or awkwardness had sent a different kind of thrill through her. He'd looked wild, untamed. She never knew a woman could orgasm watching a man pleasure himself. She almost had.

She wanted to know how he liked it, so she could get pointers. And he'd been right on the dollar. She'd wanted to touch and taste him, the moment his erection had sprung free and jutted majestically from a tuff of dark hair. But more than that, she'd wanted to see what he looked like and the sounds he made when he came. She'd missed out on that tonight.

"Can I watch you masturbate next time?"

Lex went still, then burst out laughing. Jillian lifted her head to watch him. He was truly magnificent. His nudity didn't bother him. Even in repose, his cock was impressive. It rose under her gaze, and her eyes flew to his. Standard indeed.

"Can I?" she asked.

He pushed the wet tendrils of hair from her face. "Why?"

"So I know how you like it."

He kissed her. "You already know. I can be rough. Maybe too rough. I think we broke the condom."

She giggled. No, that couldn't be her. She never giggled. "That's okay. I'm okay with rough _and_ broken condoms."

"I'm not. You could get bruised and pregnant."

"I can handle anything you throw my way, mister. Even this beauty." She threw her leg across his hips and rubbed his erection. He hissed. "And I have other protection in place."

"That's good to know." He shifted her so she lay on top of him. "I have a clean bill of health and haven't had a partner in over six months."

What happened to a year? He'd said he hadn't dated a woman in a year. He must have had one-night stands since then. "It's been over a year for me," she said.

"So we can do this," he lifted her, positioning her just above his erection. It lay across his stomach, just waiting to be repositioned.

"Absolutely," Jillian said, bracing herself on his broad chest. She reached down and guided him into her moist opening. Skin-on-skin. Tears rushed into her eyes as she sunk onto his lap and took all of him. When she looked up, Lex was staring at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"It's your turn." He flashed her a sexy smile. "Make me scream."

"I thought I already did."

He chuckled. "Do it again."

She rode him, starting slow, lifting herself until he was at the apex of her opening and sinking.

"Faster," he urged, reaching up to play with her nipples.

She leaned forward and kissed him, but she kept lifting and sinking, feeling the full length of him. When tension rose and her body coiled tight with pre-orgasm, she leaned back, braced herself against his legs, planted her feet on the bed, and deepened the connection. Years of gymnastics made her nimble and strong. She could position her body in ways that defied logic. With each movement, he slid in and out of her with such precision.

"Harder, baby. Give it to me." He reached down to stroke her clit.

She went wild as another wave hurled her over the top, but her eyes didn't leave his. She wanted to watch him come. She rocked, rotated her hips like a belly dancer, and reached down to massage his balls.

His face tightened as though he was in pain, and his eyes became unfocused. His body coiled tight, hands on her waist aiding their crazy pace. Then his eyes widened as though something surprised him, and he threw back his head and cursed.

His body jerked, went still, then jerked again. The tremors went on, until Jillian was convinced that for the first time, she was witnessing a man have an endless orgasm. It had to be, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever witnessed. Beautiful and humbling.

Once again, her body fell apart as she joined him.

He reached for her, pulled her down into his arms, and held her in a tight grip as though trying to absorb her through his skin. She stroked his glistening skin and listened to his thundering heart. It was a long time before she pressed a kiss on his chest and lifted her head.

He stared back with a look she couldn't explain.

CHAPTER 11

Lex woke up to the scent of freshly brewed coffee, bacon, and eggs. His eyes went to the clock by the bed. Nine o'clock. He couldn't remember the last time he'd overslept after sex. Maybe a few times after binge drinking with his brothers and at Sloan's parties, but never after sex. Then again, last night had been exceptional.

Morning sun seeped through the edges of the curtains, adding a golden glow to an already gold and red room. He hadn't noticed the heavier curtains last night. His attention had been on Jillian—the woman who'd shown him what he'd been missing all of his life.

Images of her from last night drifted through his head.

Jillian on her bed with her legs spread, daring him to indulge himself.

Jillian on her knees, her perfect backside in the air as she offered herself to him.

Jillian sitting astride him, her breasts bouncing as she rode him hard. She'd shown no embarrassment or regrets for enjoying him. It was refreshing.

He'd wanted to own her before they had sex. Now that she'd shown him what a real lover could do, he was never letting her go. The trick was finding a way to reel her in and make her realize that what they had was special.

He slid to the edge of the bed and stood, his feet landing on the wooden floor. Why in God's name would she want a wooden floor in her bedroom? It was fucking cold.

He padded out of the bedroom and followed the scents to the kitchen where Jillian stood in front of a stove in an oversized T-shirt that barely covered her perfectly shaped ass. Lex stored that image along with the ones from last night. Yet the image she made right now, standing in front of the stove humming a tune under her breath and stirring eggs was so potent. Something warm expanded in his chest, causing him to catch his breath.

The S-shape of her back was so enticing he wanted to scoop her up and carry her back to bed so he could kiss her all over again. No, he wanted to take her right here on the kitchen counter. Her hair hung wet on her shoulders, which meant she'd showered. Without him. The one they'd had last night was still fresh in his mind. She had a beautiful and talented mouth, and an eagerness that had driven him out of his mind.

She bent over to remove something from the oven, giving him a view of lacy panties and a tight ass. His cock responded. He crossed the floor as she straightened and slid his arms around her waist.

She looked over her shoulder at him and laughed. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Lex."

"Good morning to you, too," he whispered, lowering his head to nuzzle her neck and inhale her scent.

She turned off the stove, turned her head, and smiled up at him over her right shoulder. "Breakfast is ready. I have coffee over there and—"

He angled his head and cut her off with a kiss, savoring the heady scents that were uniquely hers mixed with coffee and mint. When he gave her breathing space, she turned around in his arms to face him, put her arms around his neck, and proceeded to kiss him back. She didn't pull any punches. When she stopped, his hard-on throbbed mercilessly. She shimmied and rubbed against him.

"Behave or we'll never leave this house," he warned, running his knuckles along her jaw. Her skin was so soft and flawless. She looked even more beautiful without makeup. "When are you heading to the studio?"

She glanced at the clock on the microwave oven.

"In the next thirty minutes. It's not far." She slid out of his arms and reached inside a cupboard for two plates. The T-shirt rode up, and he smothered a groan. She threw him a naughty smile. Now she was deliberately screwing with him.

"Can you call in sick?"

A chuckle escaped her. "Can you?"

She had a point. He had to see his mother this afternoon. "No."

"Neither can I. Let's eat and hit the road."

He propped his hip against the counter and crossed his arms. "I could give you a ride. That way, when I pick you up for lunch, you won't have to worry about your bike."

Jillian tilted her head to the side and chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated his offer. Her hesitation didn't bother him. He knew how fiercely independent she was. He might want her to bow to his will, but he wasn't holding his breath.

"It's a yes or no answer, sweetheart," he added.

She pouted. "Don't rush me. I'm weighing the pros and cons." She offered him a plate. "Be careful, the pan's hot, and you..." She gave him a once over, eyes lingering on his crotch, where he was still sporting a partial hard on. "You are perfect the way you are."

He grinned. "So you don't want me to put on something?"

She shook her head. "Nah-ah. As long as you're comfortable."

Her T-shirt dwarfed her and had two handprints on the chest just above her boobs and an arrow with the letters TLC pointed toward her crotch. He frowned. He'd tried to be gentle, but considering the number of times they'd reached for each other, she must be sore. She cocked her eyebrows when he continued to stare.

"I think you're worried that riding your bike might prove to be a problem after last night," he said.

Her cheeks grew pink. "No, that's not it."

The blush gave her away. "I can kiss it better."

She chuckled and pointed at the food on the stove. " _That_ 's your breakfast, not me."

He'd have no problem having her first. He turned to serve himself while she poured him coffee. Black, just the way he liked it. He thanked her and followed her to the counter. Great sex always made him ravenous. He didn't slow down until he got his second helping. Jillian was halfway through hers and watched him with a half-smile. He didn't mind. He liked having her eyes on him.

"You drained all my energy," he said. "Waking me at four in the morning, climbing on top of me at six."

Pink tinged her cheeks. "I had nightmares, and you hog the bed."

He frowned. The way she'd crawled on top of him, it was possible she'd seen him as a safe harbor, which in itself pleased him. "Nightmares about?"

"Bad guys out to get me."

She sounded so much like his niece he almost laughed, but he recalled the three hundred and fifty grand burning holes in his briefcase. She could actually have bad guys after her. "I can take care of them for you. Just say the word."

She laughed. "You're a real estate developer, Lex, not a thug."

"We all have a bit of thuggery in our system." He studied her, wishing she would confide in him. "Any time you want to talk, I'm available."

She wrapped her fingers around her mug as though warming her hands, but her eyes stayed on him. "So what's happening in the Caribbean? Douglas was so vague about it I was convinced you were on a secret mission. He couldn't even tell me which island you were visiting."

The change in subject didn't surprise him. She wasn't ready to trust him yet. He would wait. No matter how long it took. "He was just being discrete. Real estate developing is a cutthroat business. A competitor can swoop in and outbid me, or in this case, use the fact that I'm about to develop a property to buy land around it and force me to buy it from them at an outrageous sum. Douglas knows the peril of insider trading."

Her eyes sharpened. "So he's never used the information he gets from you to invest in a deal?"

Lex chuckled. "Of course he has. I encourage my employees to invest in whatever project I'm working on. Douglas could have retired comfortably years ago if he wanted to, but he chooses to stay with me."

Jillian grinned. "No wonder his daughter is at a private school. He told me."

"He can afford it." Lex stood, forgetting he was still naked, and chuckled when her eyes were drawn lower. He couldn't help the way his body responded. "So, do you need a ride to the studio?"

Jillian looked her watch and nodded. "If it's not too much trouble."

"Trouble? Not when it comes to you." He collected their plates and utensils, and carried them to the sink, fully aware she was watching him. He offered to get her more coffee, but she declined. He poured himself a second cup. "Where are you filming?"

"At the studio." She gave him the address.

"That should be easy to find. Thanks for breakfast." He tilted his head and studied her face. She hadn't put on any makeup, yet she'd never looked sexier. "Next time, I'll cook."

She cocked her eyebrows. "Who said there was going to be a next time?"

Lex laughed. Did she really think she could walk away from his bed after last night? He leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. "You're adorable, and I need to make a call."

"I will need a separate bedroom when we get married," she called after him.

And he'd make sure she didn't sleep in it. "At the mansion, yes. At the penthouse, not possible. Douglas would know."

"Then I'll sleep on the floor in your bedroom."

She was being difficult. Why? He paused and studied her mutinous expression. Had last night scared her? If she wanted to sleep on the floor, he'd join her. "Okay."

She eyed him suspiciously, but he didn't let her mistrust worry him. He had a year to chip at that wall. He went back to the bedroom, pulled on his pants, and made a call as he headed outside to the Rolls. He came back with the fruit basket. In the middle was a small jewelry box, which he plucked and placed in front of Jillian.

"I meant to give you this last night."

She looked at the white box with gold trimming, then him, then back at the box. "You shouldn't buy me gifts, Lex."

"Showering you with gifts is part of our contract," he said, mentioning one thing she couldn't argue about. "Mathews should be here in thirty minutes to take you to the studio."

She picked up the box and plucked at the bow. He was disappearing into the hallway when she looked and asked, "Mathews?"

He grinned.

"As in your pilot Mathews?" she asked, running after him. "Lex, I told you I can't arrive at the studio in a helicopter or—"

He disappeared inside her bathroom. By the time she reached him, he was stepping into the shower. He closed the door on her indignant face and started to sing Springsteen's _Born to Be Wild_ to block her out.

~*~

Jillian studied the people scurrying around the set and sighed. Two hours later, and people at the set were still talking and giving her furtive looks.

Yeah, I came in a helicopter with Fitz Enterprise written all over it. Get over it. Sheesh.

You'd think she'd broken some code. Mathews had dropped her off at the helipad by the studio's executive offices. Apparently, it wasn't the first time he'd dropped off a Fitzgerald. She'd hitched a ride with the security guards in one of their carts, but her mind had been too preoccupied with Lex to notice the staring.

She couldn't explain what had happened last night. The images of Lex touching her, kissing her, asking her what she wanted, and giving it to her in ways that had her screaming his name was imbedded in her brain. She'd never had orgasms like that. Never craved for more. She wasn't the kind to let a man tell her what to do, yet she had followed his every command.

Jillian closed her eyes, and images of them came back to tease her. Wetness pooled between her legs. He'd marked her in more ways that he'd ever know. Must _never_ know. All she had to do was close her eyes and she'd relive his touch, his tongue, and the intense pleasure as he moved in and out of her.

"Hey," Chris said, grabbing the seat beside her. "You seem to be all everyone is talking about these days."

She smiled at him. "Yeah, lucky me."

"Especially now that _he_ is here."

Jillian sat up and searched the set, her stomach doing flips. She couldn't see him. "Where?"

"He was talking to Barbs and her husband near the entrance. I think I have the solution to your father's problem."

Her heart pounded with excitement, and her mouth became dry. She couldn't begin to explain why was she was becoming a cliché. Ever since she'd woken up this morning and watched Lex asleep on her bed, her insides had been churning. She was twenty-nine for crying out loud, and she'd had her share of lovers. Men who hadn't lasted long because they bored her. One night with Lex and she was whipped? Seriously? He was creative. She'd give him that. He knew how to keep her off balance in and out of bed. Maybe once she learned all his sexual tricks, he would cease to be a novelty.

Feeling better, Jillian stopped searching for him and focused on Chris, who was scowling. "What?"

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

She gave him a sweet smile. "I just had a revelation."

"About?"

"Me. So?" She cocked her eyebrows. "What's the solution?"

Chris sighed. "You're getting in too deep with Fitzgerald, aren't you?"

Jillian's face warmed. "Because his pilot brought me to work?"

"Because of the look in your eyes when I said he was here." He glanced around, and leaned forward. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Please." Jillian tilted her head to the side. "Aren't you the one who saw him first and told me to go for it."

"This is not a joke, Jill. Any man who would pay for a..." He glanced around again. "You know, do what he's doing, is not right for you. Don't fall for the guy."

"This is a job, Chris. Nothing more. So what's the solution?"

He shook his head. "It's not important now. It was ridiculous to begin with. I need to talk to the guys."

"The guys" were his special effects team. Jillian jumped up and followed him. "Just tell me. I need to close the door on this, and I can't think of anything. I'm tempted to drop off the money myself and get it over with."

He whipped around. "No. Petrosian Hookah Lounge is not for you. Greg and I went there last weekend and no"—he shook his head—"not for you or me."

His protective instinct was cute sometimes. "Then tell me. I'll decide whether it's ridiculous or not."

He stopped walking. "It has to do with Fitzgerald."

"Yes?"

"Tell him the truth and ask him to hire the troupe for a few gigs. Corporations hire troupes all the time for their employees. His friends can do it, too. Your brothers can charge whatever they want per event. They can sign for several events in the coming year and pay up front. Your father saves face and no one knows the truth except the two of you."

Jillian followed his eyes to where Lex was talking to Barbs and her husband. Warmth unfurled deep inside her. His back was to them, and she found herself following his broad shoulders, remembering biting him there. He was back in his leather jacket and scruffy boots, worn-out jeans hugging his powerful thighs. The warmth in her belly became molten heat and shot straight to the throbbing sensation between her legs.

Focus, Jillian. It was just sex. Maybe the best you've ever had, but sex nevertheless.

Chris' idea was brilliant, but would Lex go for it? She hoped so. He ran a huge corporation with hundreds of workers who wouldn't mind the best circus performance this side of the Rockies. The best part was her father would not feel like a charity case.

Lex looked over his shoulder and straight at her. The wraparound sunglasses blocked his eyes, but she felt their effect down to her core. It was as though he was touching her with his eyes. She couldn't look away.

A bolt of arousal rippled through her, causing her stomach to tighten and her nipples to pucker. Of course, with all the padding she had on for her next scene, she alone was privy to her traitorous response. His lips lifted in a sexy, half smile. He knew.

Some men drew attention by the sensuality of their smiles. Others let the wicked twinkle in their eyes speak for them. Lex's sheer magnificent presence was the first lure. The roguish smile came later. Even now Jillian wasn't the only female on the set watching him. Watching and lusting. It didn't matter what he wore. He exuded a potent sensuality women couldn't ignore.

Chris blocked Jillian's line of vision and peered into her eyes. She'd completely forgotten his presence. What had they been discussing? Oh, yeah, her father's financial woes.

"Why are you looking at me like that? It's a brilliant idea."

"I'm going to say it again. Be careful with him." He frowned. "Powerful men like him get away with a lot."

She watched Chris walk away, then glanced at Lex. He was getting the grand tour from Michaels, Barbs' husband. Jillian's eyes followed them to the storyboard. Lex glanced her way again, and she imagined his eyes flashing with heat.

He would never hurt her. She'd have to give him the power to do that. That could only happen if she allowed herself to be vulnerable. If she dropped her guard and fell in love with him. She had no intention of doing that. Theirs was a sexual attraction. She would enjoy the ride, then walk away with her heart intact.

Jillian frowned when she noticed the odd behavior of the females around the set. Some had found a reason to do things or talk to others near his vicinity.

What the hell was their problem? They'd never seen a hot guy before, or was it his pockets that had them acting like vultures? _Shameless bitches!_ Lex was hers. Temporarily, but still hers. Hadn't she arrived in his chopper this morning? And wasn't he here for their lunch date?

Jillian was about to cross the set to claim him in front of everyone when she remembered she was wearing the ugly wig and the clown makeup from their first meeting. He hated both. Not a morale booster. On top of that, she had on a padded suit for her jump.

"Does he have a brother? Please tell me he has one, or a distant cousin who looks just like him."

Shay. Jillian turned and hugged the actress. Shay hadn't been at the set since the night of the party at Mrs. Fitzgerald's. Jillian didn't have a copy of the script and wasn't sure whether Shay was done with her scenes or not. In this business, sudden disappearance usually meant your character had been written off.

"Where have you been?" Jillian asked.

"Filming a sitcom. I don't have a big part here, so I only come in for my scenes. So, you and the billionaire have started your rounds in the tabloids." She made a face, green eyes twinkling. "Sorry I played a part in that, but I didn't like the things"—she glanced around for eavesdroppers and whispered—"the Wicked Witch of the West was saying. The pool incident aside, you upstaged her that evening."

Shay had made it obvious from day one she wasn't on Team Margo, but Jillian had no idea her feelings were this strong. "As long as I continue being the mystery woman, I'm okay."

"Oh, honey." Shay laughed out loud, drawing the attention of the people around the set, including Lex. "You can't escape the paparazzi forever. This morning's paper proves that." She glanced at the group around Lex. "I like how he looks over here every few minutes as though checking on you. You need to tell me your secret, because he's smitten."

Jillian smiled, but her heart wasn't in it. "This morning's paper?"

She took Jillian's arm. "Chris is signaling you."

"What paper, Shay?"

"One of the tabloids. _The National Observer_. Haven't you seen it? One had a picture of the two of you at the airport, kissing. From the looks of things, you picked him up last night. Another showed you driving away, but the last one..." Shay fanned her face. "You must have pulled up on the side of the road to make out because you were steaming up the windows."

Jillian's face burned. Her stomach had dropped to the bottom of her shoes, and now it churned. The stares from people around the set had nothing to do with her arrival this morning. But pictures of her in some stupid magazine, having an orgasm by the roadside... She wanted to crawl somewhere and never show her face again.

She glanced across the set at Lex, wondering if he knew. The only person who'd known she'd gone to pick him up was Douglas. After Lex's speech on loyalty, Jillian doubted he'd called the paparazzi. Now that her name and her association with Lex were out in the open, her feud with Margo could take on a new meaning.

Jillian focused on Shay, who was waving at another actress. "You, uh, don't happen to have a copy, do you?"

"No, but there are few around the set."

Chris appeared beside them. "Excuse us, Shay," he said, then cupped Jillian's elbow. "It's time for your scene."

Jillian fought nausea as Chris led her toward the building. She was about to fly through a glass window while a rigged charge exploded behind her, but all she could think about was stupid tabloid pictures. She started to sweat. The protective gear she wore felt like a furnace. Underneath her costume were a thin Nomex suit soaked in fire retardant gel, a second suit to keep the retardant from evaporating, and spinal and body padding to protect her when she fell.

"You okay?" Chris asked.

She nodded.

"I know Shay is your friend, but the woman gossips too much."

Jillian opened her mouth to ask him if he'd seen the papers, but she clammed up. She tried to focus on the task at hand. She looked up at the makeshift two-story building she was about to jump from. Kenny Mittack waved down at them. As usual, his curly blonde hair was unruly and his clothes a little wrinkled, but all she could think about was whether or not he'd seen the papers.

Stop it. Your head should be on the stunt.

She blew out air, and Chris misunderstood.

"It's okay to be nervous. Just stick to what you did with Kenny during the dry run and everything will go smoothly."

Jillian nodded and gave Kenny a thumps-up signal. Kenneth "Kenny" Mittack was Chris' right hand. Chris usually hired several assistant stunt coordinators, stuntmen, and stuntwomen for each film. Most were new, but a few, like Kenny, were regulars. While Chris was in charge of everyone, Kenny often worked one-on-one with Jillian. He made the tedious preparation bearable by talking about their favorite subject, extreme sports.

The entire team, which included the pyrotechnicians and the director, had done a detailed briefing of the stunt and rehearsed the scene several times. They'd narrowed the timing between Jillian being pushed off the air ramp platform to simulate the aftershock and the explosive charges detonating down to milliseconds. Still, things could wrong. She shouldn't be distracted by what she couldn't control.

_Focus, stay in control, and when in trouble, improvise,_ she chanted under her breath.

"Make a clean jump," Chris said when they reached upstairs. "And, Jillian?"

She glanced at him.

"You'll be fine."

"I know." His faith in her was never misplaced, but this time... Stupid paparazzi.

Still chanting her rules, Jillian walked to the window and checked on the ground crew. They were inflating the air bag. Her eyes found Lex where everyone was gathered. The director must have told them to clear the set. He touched a finger to his lips. Jillian blushed and turned to face the others.

~*~

"What's going on?" Lex asked as they approached the crowd.

"Jillian is about to jump through that window," Michaels said.

Something cold clutched Lex's gut. "What?"

"It's perfectly safe," Michaels said. "They're using sugar glass, which looks like real glass but is fragile and breaks easily, _and_ rarely causes injuries. An air bag will break her fall. She's also wearing a padded bodysuit to protect her from scrapes."

None of what Michaels listed made Lex feel better. He looked at the window and felt a little sick imagining her jumping from it. Through the crowd gathering near the building, he could see a team of crewmen and women adjusting a giant blue airbag.

"She's an amazing stuntwoman, Lex, and Chris is a meticulous stunt coordinator. He goes over scenes, double and triple-checking everything. The detonation will happen _after_ she jumps."

Hell! "What detonation?"

As Michaels explained, Lex started to sweat. If he'd been shitting bricks before, they were now boulders. His chest hurt and sweat pooled on his forehead. He'd braved the Himalayan summit, surfed giant waves in Tasmania, kayaked Siberia's Bashkaus River, and swam with the great white sharks in South Africa, but none compared to standing at a damned set in Burbank waiting for his woman to jump.

Lex swallowed, the waiting making him antsy. He didn't give a rat's ass that the window was made of sugar glass and that the broken pieces probably wouldn't cut her. He didn't like this. He was a businessman and knew that nothing ever went according to plan. Odds shifted. Equipment failed.

"Does she have protection against fire in case something goes wrong?"

"There's fire retardant in her suit, hair, wig... Everything she's wearing is doused with it."

Which meant there was a chance she could catch fire. Fuck. This was worse than he'd thought. Lex tried to focus on the images of Jillian from last night and this morning. The taste of her, the feel of her skin, the sounds she made...

What the hell was keeping her? The ground crew had stopped fiddling with the air bag. Two teams appeared to be ready with their wide-lens cameras, one on a crane above the building and another below it. Like the first camera crew, Barbs was elevated on a crane and was talking to someone on an ear walkie-talkie, her eyes on the window. He followed her gaze.

_Jillian will be okay. She must._ This was her job. He was sure she'd done this countless times. If he panicked every time he thought about what she did for a living, he'd go crazy. It might take a year, ten, or until she stopped doing stunts, but he was going to learn to suck it up and do what he did best—eliminate chances of anything going wrong.

From his adventures, using top-notch gear and the best equipment money could buy always tilted the odds in his favor. The rest depended on his willpower and the innate need to beat the odds and win. Jillian was a natural fighter, and her confidence said she was good at what she did. That eased his worries somewhat, but he didn't know what Lander's budget was or how efficient his equipment was. Now that Lex was in Jillian's life, he planned to make sure she used the best of everything in her field. Keeping her safe was his priority.

His phone buzzed. Lex pulled it from its clip, saw the number, and frowned. He'd told his office he didn't want to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. He walked away from the throng of people and brought the phone to his ear.

"Paula?"

"Are you coming into the office soon?"

"This afternoon. What's going on?"

"Call Mr. Roderick, please. He threatened to call every five minutes until you returned his calls."

Screw Rod and his tabloids. They had a pact, but he'd broken it. Even in college, Rod would go out of his way to piss everyone off for shits and giggles. He hadn't changed. He still got bored and found amusement at other people's expense. If he weren't a friend, Lex would drag his ass to court.

The problem was a court battle wouldn't break Rod. Like Cade and Sloan, Roderick Thorne was a dot-com boomer with way too much money and time on his hands. Worse, battling Lex might just amuse Rod. He might even benefit if his tabloids and online sites got the inside scoop on the hearing.

"Lex, are you still there?"

A ripple of anticipation ran through the crew, causing Lex to turn his attention to the scene about to be shot. The people pressed closer, eyes on the window from which Jillian was supposed to be hurtled. "I'll call him as soon as this scene is done."

"Scene? Where are you?"

"I'll see you this afternoon, Paula." Everything Michaels had told him zipped through Lex's head, but it didn't ease his worries.

What if something went wrong? What if the background fire got out of control? What if the compressed air piston below the air ram failed and the explosives went off while she was still on the platform? What if she got thrown too far and missed the air bag? He hated feeling helpless. It wasn't in his nature to stand on the sideline and do nothing. Where the hell was she? Any more delays and he'd go up there to investigate.

Seconds crawled by. Hell! He needed a distraction.

Lex punched a number on his phone and brought it to his ear.

"Who is this? How did you get this number?" Rod barked.

"What the hell are you doing publishing my pictures in your paper?"

Rod laughed. "Hey, Fitz. I knew you'd eventually call back. On an unlisted cell no less. How come I don't have this number?"

"Because you're an ass. Call your people, Rod, and tell them to call the vendors. I want every last piece of rag you call a magazine off the racks now."

Rod laughed. "Rag? I make my living giving people what they want."

"Fix this. I'm not joking."

"Come on, big guy. Cade didn't go ballistic last month when—"

"I'm not Cade. How the hell did your people know I was arriving last night?" Then he remembered his conversation with Sloan. "Sloan called you?"

There was silence, then, "Now we're conspiring against you? You've hurt my feelings."

"Screw your feelings, Rod. Tell your people to remove them, then call and apologize to Jillian. And whoever told your people about my arrival last night had better be ready for me on Saturday." Lex hung up, expecting to feel better, but the knot in his gut had only tightened. Jillian still hadn't jumped.

Of course, Rod wasn't going to recall _The National Observer_ from vendors, but he'd feel guilty for a few weeks before going back to being a jackass. Unlike most weekly tabloids, he chose to publish his bi-weekly, giving gossip-happy readers something to read mid-week.

Lex moved closer to the crowd, noticing it had become quiet. He saw why. Smoke billowed from the windows of the building. Fire leaped and licked the ledges. Each breath hurt as memories from the past flashed in his head. He'd almost lost his brother and sister in two separate fires.

His hands clenched. Stomach heaved. The urge to close his eyes and shut out what was to follow became overwhelming, but he kept them fixed on the building and held his breath.

Just when the waiting became unbearable, Jillian came crashing through the window as an explosion rocked the building. The fire shot after her as she hovered in the air. Then he realized something. She was on fire.

Lex's heart stopped. The next second, he was bulldozing his way through the onlookers, his eyes on Jillian as she fell. A few people protested. Others saw him coming and moved out of the way.

"You can't go beyond this point, sir," a security guard ordered him and stood in his way.

"You want to try to stop me?" he snapped, his eyes on the people converging on Jillian with fire extinguishers. The guard was scrawny and several inches shorter than he. Lex could lift him out of the way with one arm and not break a sweat. A second guard appeared. This one looked like he bench-pressed the Rock of Gibraltar. He would take them both to get to Jillian.

"She's okay, Lex," Barb's husband said from behind him.

"How can she be okay? She's on fire." He looked above the head of the scrawny guard and tried to find Jillian. The crew had her surrounded, which wasn't reassuring. "Did you know this would happen?"

"Yes, but she'll be fine."

"How the hell can you guarantee that? Anything could go... wrong." His eyes found her as she stood. Her wig was messy and partially singed, her outer suit was ripped and had dark smudges, and her clown makeup seemed greasier than when they'd first met, but he'd never seen a more precious sight in his entire life. The best part was her smile.

She was okay.

Relief washed over him. The security guards stepped aside to let Lex through. He closed the gap between them, wanting to check every inch of her body and make sure there were no burn marks. Wrap his arms around her and never let go.

She looked up, saw him, and the smile disappeared from her face.

CHAPTER 12

Jillian had heard Lex's voice raise in anger, but she hadn't expected to see the haunted look in his eyes. He searched her face, arms, and body as though looking for injuries.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a strange voice.

She nodded. "Everything went smoothly."

He grew paler. Obviously that wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. She reached out and took his hand. It was clammy.

"Come with me," she whispered.

Eyes followed them as they left the crowd and headed toward the trailers. He held her hand in a death grip, but she didn't complain. Seeing her pull that stunt must have scared him. There were risks with most stunts, but she'd never had a reason to worry.

She waited until they were inside the trailer with the door closed before facing him. He still looked like he'd swallowed a rotten egg and was about to throw up.

"I'm okay," Jillian reassured him. He didn't seem convinced. "You were worried."

He laughed harshly, let go of her hand, and scrubbed the back of his neck. "No. You've done this countless times, right?"

Disappointed by his denial, Jillian nodded. "Yeah."

"So mishaps are nothing to lose sleep over?"

"You got it." She sat at her dresser, removed the wig, and shook her hair. Through the mirror, she watched Lex. His hands shoved in his front pants pockets, he glanced around the trailer before his eyes found hers again. He still looked shaken.

She didn't understand men. They jumped into dangerous situations to play heroes all the time, but they'd never admit to feeling an emotion they deemed weakened them. Her brothers were like that. They'd watch her like a hawk when she performed, but as soon as she rode off the ring, they'd act like she'd just taken a walk through the park. A pat on the back from her father and pointers on how she should improve certain moves from her brothers were all she ever got.

Her mother had been the fusser. Chris took over after she'd died, hugging and praising Jillian when her brothers weren't watching. Just once, she'd like a man to admit to having real emotion outside the bedroom.

Jillian started to unbutton the outer suit. Lex still stood behind her, scowling.

"So where are we going for lunch?" she asked.

"Downtown," Lex said curtly. He pulled up the chair his mother had used yesterday, sat, and gently rotated Jillian's chair until she faced him.

"Lex, I need to remove these suits, shower, and—"

"They can wait." He spoke slowly, taking her hands in his and looking into her eyes. "I wasn't worried, Jillian. I was petrified that you were burned and possibly injured in some way. The last ten minutes before you jumped, I imagined all sorts of terrible things going wrong. When I saw you on fire..." He stopped and shook his head. "I don't think I can watch you do stunts again, yet I want to be here to make sure you're okay." He frowned, his hand reaching for her face. "What did I do? Why are you crying?"

Jillian shook her head. "I'm not crying." She lifted her chin and blinked hard until she stopped the tears from falling. In control once again, she kissed him. "Thank you."

He frowned. "For what? Getting scared for you? I know this is your job and something you love, but we're going to make a few changes around here."

She blinked, focusing on his words instead of the fuzzy feelings his confession had brought to the surface. "Changes?"

"Yeah. Big ones. I need to talk to your uncle." He stood and started for the door.

"What changes, Lex?"

"I'll be back."

"Lex." She stood, ready to tackle him if he took another step. "What. Changes?"

He stopped by the door and looked back at her. "I want to find out his safety protocol for various stunts. If we are to keep you safe, I want to add a few of my own."

"You can't just dictate—"

"Oh yes, I can. I have a business to run, and I can't do it worrying about people screwing up and making you land in a hospital. Don't worry." He smiled, but his expression said he intended to get his way. "I'll be nice about it."

Jillian sighed as the door closed behind him. The man was used to having his way, and so was Chris. They were going to knock heads, and she would be caught in the middle.

Damn.

She removed the suits and dumped them in a hamper along with the wig. She'd never showered and changed so fast. Any second, she expected Chris to storm into the trailer, demanding she control Lex.

Yeah, like a lion can truly ever be tamed.

Her hair was still wet and her face free of makeup when she opened the trailer door and went in search of them. Chris and Lex were having a heated discussion by the trailer used by the rest of the stunt crew. As she got closer, both men threw back their heads and laughed.

Jillian slowed down. They were getting along?

They looked up and saw her. Lex waved her over and pulled her to his side. "Then it's a deal?" he asked, shaking Chris' hand.

Chris nodded. "It's a deal. I'll stop by your office."

"What deal?" she asked.

Both men ignored her question, but Chris couldn't meet her eyes. She knew him well enough to know when he'd done something she wouldn't like.

"The Vancouver trip has been pushed back, so see you on Monday, Jill," he said. "Think about what we discussed earlier." He took off as though hellhounds were after him.

She turned to Lex and narrowed her eyes. "What did you do?"

He gave her an innocent smile. "We reached an understanding. Nothing big."

Oh, she hated his arrogance. "Yeah. Right. That's why Chris hightailed it out of here with a guilty look on his face. What understanding? You mentioned changes, which means you bullied him into—"

"Making sure you're safe. I will not compromise with anyone on that, including you. The one thing we couldn't agree on is"—he grimaced—" _that_."

Jillian followed his eyes to... "Our trailer? What about it?"

Lex rubbed his chin and shot her a glance, a twinkle appearing in his eyes. "Everything. I like that one better." He pointed at Margo's newer trailer.

Margo's trailer had everything a person could possibly need. From a bedroom, a fully stocked bar, and an entertainment unit Jillian would kill to own, to a workout area in the back. Margo had given them the grand tour before she'd morphed into a bitch.

"Yeah, well, you can't do what your mother did and take it from her. That's not how things work around here. She's the star of the show, and stars get the best of everything." She lifted her chin and stared at him from the tip of her nose. "Not that there's anything wrong with our trailer. It has history. Memories in every ding and scrape. It's perfect just the way it is."

He chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but it looks like something you salvaged from a junkyard and slapped paint on."

Her jaw dropped. "That's the meanest, elitist thing you've ever said. Take it back." She dove for him.

He dodged her hand, and she nearly lost her balance. But he was there to break her fall, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing her back to his front. The feel of his hard body sent her juices flowing.

Heat flared. She felt him stir behind his zipper and wanted to rub against him. No, she wanted to do more. Feel his skin against hers. Run her tongue across his nipples and feel them respond. She couldn't remember feeling this consumed by a guy before, this never-ending need to touch, taste, and feel him.

The moment stretched, her heart pounding hard, her breathing quickening. She moved ever so slightly and heard him groan. His head lowered, his breath warm on her ear as he whispered, "You don't play fair."

"Haven't you heard? All's fair when you mess with me." She reached for his arms, but he whipped them away. She turned to find him hurrying toward her trailer. For a large man, he moved fast. Then he had the gall to laugh. A few nearby people watched them and snickered.

Oh, now he's in for it.

Jillian went after him in earnest, but he cheated. He ducked inside their trailer and closed the door on her face. He wiggled his fingers through the glass panel on the door. Jillian gave him the finger. The look on his face was comical. When she entered the trailer, he was walking down the length of the trailer, checking every nook and cranny and shaking his head.

"I can't believe you gave me the finger. You're a sore loser," he said without turning.

"And you are a know-it-all snob."

He turned and came toward her. "What's the mileage on this thing?"

She planted her hands on her hips and blocked his path. "You owe me an apology, mister." He studied her, a tiny smile curling his lips. "What?"

"You're breathtaking."

The compliment was unexpected and nice, but Jillian faked indifference and rolled her eyes. "Compliments are not buying you brownie points. This is our trailer, and you cannot disrespect it."

"Technically, it's Lander's trailer. You need your own."

Jillian scoffed at the idea. "No, I don't."

"Chris agrees with me."

"He wouldn't dare." The look in Lex's eyes said he had. Jillian threw her arms in the air. "Unbelievable. You walk into my life and literally take over, charming everyone, making them agree to everything you want..." She screamed when he scooped her up and sat on the nearest chair.

"That's because I'm always right," he said.

She shook her head. "You have a god complex."

"And you are a star. You shine brighter than any woman or man on this set, so screw anyone who says you don't deserve the best." He captured her lips in one of his toe-curling kisses.

The fight had gone out of her at "a star." When he eased off, her arms were around his neck and she would have agreed to anything.

"Is it wrong to want to give you the best?" Lex asked.

Jillian sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. It wasn't wrong, but who would continue that tradition once he was gone? No one. No, that wasn't true. She would. Once he was out of her life, she'd be loaded. Sadness crept in, but she refused to dwell on it. Theirs was a temporary relationship. In fact, she shouldn't be sitting on his lap or chasing him around the set like they were a normal couple in love.

Love.

That word should never cross her mind when it came to this man, or she'd be lost. Falling in love with him was out of the question and stupid to boot. She didn't do stupid.

Jillian jumped up and took the chair in front of the mirror. Lex scooted closer, eyes probably seeing more than she wanted him to see.

"This is the twenty-first century, Alexander," Jillian said. "If I want to give myself the best, I work my butt off and get it."

He ran a hand down her arm, leaving heated skin behind. Part of her wanted him to stop. Another craved his touch. God, she was a glutton for punishment. He dropped a kiss on her skin left bare by her shirt, and she leaned into his mouth, seeking more.

"As per our contract," he said, his breath warm on her skin, "you don't spend a dime while you and I are involved, except for the three-fifty. But that's another story." He rubbed his cheek on her shoulder. He hadn't shaved, and the light stubble across his jaw was stimulating.

Jillian forced herself to mull over his words instead of listening to the hum of her body. This was the perfect opportunity to tell him the truth about her father and the money, and maybe even ask for his help. But he was at her nape.

"Lex?" his name came out as a moan. She caressed his face, the corner of his mouth.

"Hmm." The sound came from his chest and vibrated through her.

Jillian hesitated, savoring his kisses, memorizing the texture of his skin with her hands. Was it only this morning she'd told him they wouldn't have sex again? All he had to do was touch her and her body sang. She melted with need, closing her eyes and forgetting where they were. The little sanity left to her reminded her that he was already taking over every aspect of her life. Surely, she must control some parts of it if she was to survive a year with him. Like her heart and how she dealt with her family problems.

It took all her willpower to grip his head and create space between his lips and her body. His heated eyes said he didn't like the interruption.

"I want you," he whispered, his finger tracing her collarbone and stopping at the pulse beating furiously at the base of her neck. "And you want me."

When he looked at her with such need, whatever objections Jillian had flew out the window. Sex was something she enjoyed, and she felt no shame. Her need for this man was slowly morphing into something else. An addiction? Yes. That sounded better than the alternative, because their relationship left no room for tender feelings or long-term commitment.

She jumped up, marched to the trailer door, and locked it. When she turned around, he was watching her with amazement.

"What? Do you want to wait until we get to your place?" she asked, undoing her shirt.

"One of these days, I'm actually going to undress you from top to bottom."

"You'll have to move fast." Her bra landed on top of her shirt.

He rolled the chair toward her, nudged her hands out of the way, and finished removing the rest of her clothes.

"How is that for fast?" He lifted her onto the narrow counter by the sink and kissed her knee, then moved along her inner thigh. Her muscles trembled, and her knees opened. Jillian caressed his head, her hand slipping under his shirt to stroke his back. His muscles flexed. She smothered a scream when he bit into her thigh.

"Shh," he whispered.

Jillian wasn't going to control herself when he was so ruthless in his possession of her senses. He moved, kissing her stomach, her sides, until he took a nipple into his mouth. She held his head, wanting him to stay there forever.

_Oh yes._ The things he did with his teeth. His tongue. He let go of one nipple and rubbed his chin in the valley between her breasts, sending jolts of pure pleasure through her. The roughness on her sensitive skin was so erotic.

He took the other nipple and sucked on it so hard her body jerked. If he wasn't standing between her legs and trapping her on that narrow counter, she would have fallen off it.

"Yes, Lex. Oh, God, yes. More."

She wanted to taste him too and tugged on his shirt, until he let her remove it. She ran her hands over his shoulders. He had such a perfectly proportional body. His head lifted up, and his mouth claimed hers. Hot. Hard. Hungrily. He stroked her shoulders, her back, sliding down to her waist.

He still wore his jeans while she was completely naked. She reached for his belt, but he wouldn't let her. Instead, he sunk low and sat on the chair, cupped her butt cheeks, and nudged her to the edge of the counter. Then he was lowering his head, the stubble on his chin scraping her sensitive skin, the feeling contrasting with the flutter of his soft hair on her upper thighs.

A low moan of pleasure escaped her when his mouth closed on her. His tongue and teeth worked together in perfect harmony with one intention—to drive her crazy.

"Lex," Jillian moaned and pushed against him. She didn't think she could control the sounds coming from her mouth. At least she'd closed the curtains earlier after showering, but he was relentless, pushing her fast to the limit. She wanted to beg him to slow down.

"Please," was all she managed before he changed the level of intensity.

He moved her legs over his shoulders and leaned in for a deeper connection. As he reduced the tight nub into a point of intense sensations, he slid his middle and index fingers inside her. Jillian bit her lower lip to stop her whimpers. Then he did something new. He made little erotic circles as he pushed in and out of her.

She went crazy.

If he didn't have a firm hold on her, her butt would have slipped off the counter. Jillian couldn't stop crying out as waves of pleasure crested. Lex didn't stop, sucking harder and prolonging the sensations while she shuddered and moaned his name. He released her, kissed her thigh, and rested his chin on it, a smug smile curling his lips.

"I'll never get tired of hearing that," he whispered.

Jillian shifted, her legs giving away when they landed on the floor on either side of his hips. But he was there to steady her. She reached for his belt again, but he stopped her.

"No, sweetheart. After last night, you must be sore. I can wait."

Was he nuts? She wasn't about to let an erection go to waste. She leaned into him and rubbed her lips across his.

"I want you, Lex." She kissed his upper lip, then took his lower one between her teeth and nipped it before letting go. "And I mean to have you."

He grinned. In seconds, he'd lowered his pants, his erection springing free. Thick. Hard. Majestic. He never failed to take her breath away. Her eyes locked with his as she went down to her knees. The look in his eyes made her feel powerful. It was as though he wanted to tell her not to do it while at the same time begging her to go ahead.

Smiling saucily, she ran her fingers along his shaft. His hips lifted off the chair. Not meaning to torture him, she wrapped her hands around him, not fully spanning his girth with each hand.

He was hot.

Ridged with veins.

Velvet over steel.

She leaned down and ran her tongue from the base to the tip of his shaft. He cursed softly. Not good enough. She repeated it and rolled her tongue around the tip.

"Oh, fuck!" slipped from his mouth.

That was more like it. She leaned in closer and started with the tip, laving it with her tongue, hearing him groan. Then she opened her mouth wide to accommodate his width. She made her throat muscles relax as she took in his entire length.

Lex's hands caressed her hair, her shoulders, then went back to her head. With a gentle pressure, he rocked farther into her mouth and down her throat. The taste of hard, hot erection and the scent of his arousal were too much. She moaned, knowing full well what it would do to him. The vibrations of her vocals rippled through his shaft.

"Holy shit," he growled.

Liking his response, she did it again.

"What the hell are you—?"

She moved her head, humming as he slid down her throat. Shudders shot through him, but the next second, he staggered backward, breaking their contact. Eyes wild, his breathing heavy, his expression begged her to... what? Give him what he needed?

She knew how he liked it. Hard. Fast. Furious. Rough. She was a bit sore from yesterday, but the pleasure would make up for the discomfort. Jillian turned, arched her back, and glanced over her shoulder at him. He stared at her with so much lust it hurt to look at him.

"Take me, Lex," she begged him. "Make me yours again."

"No," he growled. Then he turned her and kissed her. Not hard. It was a gentle kiss full of longing and a different kind of need. "Make me yours, Jillian."

He sat and leaned into the chair. She knew he was doing this for her. Her throat tightened with an emotion she couldn't explain. All she knew was she was going to love him. This once, she was going to shower him with tenderness. She lowered herself, taking him in slowly.

He hissed, eyelids dropping as though to hide his reaction. Foolish man. She could feel the shudders that rocked his body. He stretched her and filled her completely. Like he was built just for her.

He cupped her face. "So beautiful. All mine."

Jillian ignore the "all mine" and started doing her belly dancer move. He kissed her mouth and played with her nipples as she rocked and loved him. She'd never given a lap dance, but there was always a first time. This kind was much more fun.

Soon it wasn't enough. She moved faster and faster. Their bodies moving in perfect unison, slick skin speaking to slick skin, lips locked to muffle their moans. She felt him grow thicker and harder, if that were possible.

She tore her mouth from his and whispered, "I'm coming, Lex. Come with me. Please."

"I'm with you, babe," he growled, his voice rough with arousal.

They pushed and strained, and when the eruption swept through her, he was there with her, kissing her and swallowing her cries. Her inner muscles tightened around his shaft, milking him dry.

They stayed locked in each other's arms, her cheek resting on his shoulder. She never wanted to move.

~*~

"Do you think they heard us?" Jillian whispered.

"Yep."

She leaned back to check whether he was joking or not. "No way."

"You're loud." She glared at him. "And this heap of crap doesn't muffle sounds. Now do you see why we need to get you a new one?"

"Oh, you think you're so slick." She tried to ease off him, but he wrapped his arms around her. He wasn't ready to let her go yet. "I thought you were hungry."

"I'd rather eat—"

She covered his mouth. He was already hardening inside her. He had a ferocious sexual appetite, and in her, he'd found his perfect match. The missing piece in his life.

"Let me paraphrase that," she said. "I'm hungry, and Chris will eventually want to use his trailer, scrap or not. Can we go now?"

"Give me a moment." He kissed her, then her breasts, loving the way her breath caught and her pussy muscles tightened around him. He wanted her again. He hoped it would always be like this between them. He loved the way she responded to his touch, the way she could take charge, then give in to him. How she was never afraid to show she wanted him. But all that meant nothing if he couldn't earn her trust. Without trust, there was no chance of her loving him.

As for what he felt for her, he wasn't sure what it was. Love. Obsession. He just knew he couldn't imagine life without her.

While she got dressed and reapplied her makeup, he pulled out his cell phone and called Paula. He wasn't sure whether his instructions were coherent because he was busy watching Jillian through the mirror. She was so exquisite.

She reached inside her bag and pulled out the jewelry box with the gift he'd given her this morning. He braced himself, sure that she was going to return it. Was he wrong to want to drape her in the finest clothes and shower her with gifts?

"You win," she said, turning around to face him. "I won't fight you over gifts." She opened the box to reveal the Blue Nile signature diamond tennis bracelet set in platinum he'd handpicked in St. Martin. "You said the bracelet reminded you of me. Why?"

"It's beautiful and fragile, yet it's made of the strongest element in the world." He lifted the bracelet from its satin bed and snapped it around her wrist. "Just like you. You are strong, driven, and resolute, yet you're also delicate. Fragile." He stroked her hand. "You have the gentlest of hearts."

She gawked at him. He was amazed she didn't realize what a gem she was. If only she could see herself through his eyes. From the way she'd defended Margo to her protectiveness toward Chris Lander and the older actress she was talking to earlier, the goodness in her shone through. He couldn't wait until he was the focus of her love and devotion.

He raised her hand to his lips. "And one day, I hope you'll trust me enough to accept the fact that I'm always right about everything."

She laughed. "Like I said, a serious god complex. Let's go. I'm starving." She reached for her bag and grabbed his hand.

Outside, the people around the set were eating. Barbs and her husband were having a heated discussion with a group of people at a table. She waved. Everyone at their table looked up, smiled, and nodded. He'd met most of them this morning. Jillian had been working with them for months, yet they totally ignored her. That pissed him off.

He was a businessman and knew you treated all employees with respect, from the heads of departments to the blue-collar construction workers. They all did honest work and were all part of what made a project work. These same scriptwriters and directors would come begging Jillian to fund their movies once she had millions at her disposal.

She stared straight ahead, head held high, completely indifferent to their attitude. Or maybe she knew, but was better at hiding her reaction. She amazed him. Made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. There was so much about her he wanted to learn, so many facets of her he had yet to discover, but he was a patient man. He'd waited this long to find her, he'd wait some more, until she saw him as the man meant to love her.

Her expression changed when they reached Chris and his stunt crew. The group was more boisterous and waved to her. The lead actor, Keith the Aussie, was with them. His mother had mentioned the actor in passing when they'd talked earlier this morning. Apparently, he did his own stunts and knew how to charm older women.

"You did good, kiddo," one of the guys called out.

"Yeah, nice jump," a woman added. The rest nodded, some clapping.

Laughing, Jillian gave them a thumbs-up. "No, you guys made it happen. Nice pyros, P.K. Didn't feel a thing."

A black guy who looked like a linebacker stood and bowed. "Thanks, kiddo. I try."

"See you guys on Monday." She gestured "call me" to Chris.

Lex whisked her away. It was obvious she was closer to the stunt crew than the rest of the people around the set. It just bugged the crap out of him that people like Jillian made the actions in the movies seem authentic yet weren't accorded the respect they deserved. Any idiot could memorize lines and squeeze a tear. It took talent and hard work to do stunts.

Jillian looked around when they reached the parking lot, confusion on her face. "I don't see the Phantom."

"That's because we're not using it."

"Is Mathews picking us...?" her voice trailed off when she saw the two bikes—his Road King was right beside the new Leeds Low Rider. She laughed, glanced at him, at the bike, and back at him. "It's beautiful. Is it... mine?" she whispered, awe in her voice.

He hated to disappoint her, but... "No."

"Oh." Her reaction didn't surprise him. She touched the surface as though to prove it was real. From the handlebars to the wheel, she traced the chrome and leather. "What do you call it?"

"Leeds LR, Low Rider." He put the keys in her hand. "Eddie wants to know what you think."

She glanced up. "You mean I get to test ride it?"

He grinned at her expression. "Unless it's uncomfortable."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not that sore."

"Then you can ride it back to the city. No stunts or detours to see how it reacts to wheelies. The LR is designed for urban areas. That's a prototype, so treat it with care."

She shot him a look as though to say "I intend to" and straddled the bike. "What engine did he use? What's the fuel injection, the torque, the gear ratios...? Oh, I'll need to check the right and left angle lean and how high—"

"Whoa, slow down, sweetheart." He shook his head. "I can't answer any of your questions, but I'm sure you will after you ride it."

Jillian started the engine, her eyes closing as though bonding with it. From the look on her face, a bike would have made a much better gift than the diamond bracelet. Maybe Eddie could custom-make one just for her. It would make for a nice wedding present.

He handed her the helmet. "Follow me."

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, stood, and kissed him. Now that was the kind of reaction a man could get used to.

Surprisingly, she stayed behind him all the way to Dublin House. He learned something new about her—give her what she wanted and she played nice. Not that he wanted niceness from her. She was perfect the way she was. Still, he stored away that revelation with the few things he'd learned about her.

During the elevator ride, all she talked about was the LR's performance. He only heard half of what she said, preferring to soak in the nuances of her voice. He wasn't sure whether she took voice lessons before heading to Hollywood—he hadn't read her resume yet—or whether it was her way of enunciating certain words that appealed to his senses.

Lex enjoyed his bike. Loved the freedom that came with riding after being cooped up indoors at board meetings, in his car, the jet, or his office. He didn't live and breathe bikes like Jillian and Eddie, but he understood passion. Jillian might love doing stunts, but she had a serious love affair with bikes.

Upstairs, a tray with covered plates waited for them on the kitchen counter. He lifted the silver dome-shaped lids and smiled. _Paula never disappoints._

Jillian looked around. "Where's Douglas? Is he feeling better?"

"No, but my assistant has been taking care of him. Would you like something to drink?"

"Water is fine." She placed her jacket and purse on the counter. "Can I check on him?"

"I'm sure he'd like that, but first..." He dialed Eddie's number as he retrieved bottled water from the fridge and handed it her. He spoke briefly with Eddie before offering the phone to Jillian. "Eddie wants to hear your verdict."

Uncertainty flickered in Jillian's eyes. "Are you sure? What do I tell him?"

"Everything you told me." She still hesitated. Her reluctance surprised him. "Believe me, he'll appreciate whatever feedback you give him."

She scowled.

"I don't do bike talk," he added. "I had to listen to you go on and on about LR. I was _this_ close to kissing you just to shut you up."

Her jaw dropped. She snatched the phone and pointed it at him, eyes promising retribution. He grinned as she disappeared into the living room. With the right choice of words, he'd gotten his tigress back.

Lex removed the lids from the plates and took inventory of their lunch. Jillian's voice rose and fell from the living room. Eddie was probably wishing he hadn't asked for her opinion. Or not, Lex decided as she laughed. Her voice faded and sounds followed as though she'd slid open the deck door and closed it.

He followed her with the tray, but Jillian had taken the stairs and was by the door leading to Douglas' quarters. The pool deck had two levels, the semi-circular patio hugging the wall of his living room and the lower deck by Douglas's place. A set of steps connected the two decks and ran along the wall of the pool. A security glass wall surrounded the entire deck, allowing the occupants to enjoy the view without worrying about falling down the side of the building. A second set of steps connected the lower deck to the helipad. An electronically controlled gate at the top of the stairs gave added security.

Lex sipped water and stared at the city while waiting for Jillian to join him. She'd disappeared into Douglas' apartment and hadn't come out. He was starving. He checked his watch. Good thing they had the whole afternoon and night. His mother had changed their meeting to tomorrow because she suddenly had a meeting she couldn't miss. Lex had a feeling she was plotting something with his sister and cousins.

"You have a beautiful home, Lex," Jillian said, coming up the stairs. "From what I've seen anyway."

"Thank you. It was one of my first buildings. I'll give you the tour after lunch." He pulled out a chair and waited until she sat before asking, "What did Eddie say?"

A beatific smile curled her lips. "He wanted to know if he could hire me to test all his bikes."

"And?"

"I told him I'd think about it."

His wife the bike-tester. He could live with that. It definitely was safer than jumping from burning buildings. He shuddered, remembering her free-fall while on fire.

He took the seat across from her, and they dug in. They didn't speak until half the turkey and shrimp salad croissant sandwiches were gone. Lex paused just before he took his next bite, remembering her earlier reaction to the phone call to his cousin.

"How come you have no problem telling me what you think about Leeds bikes but you didn't want to talk to Eddie?"

"I know you." She leaned back against her chair and gave him a look that sent heat straight to his groin. "You can take whatever I dish out and still beg for more."

Lex choked on his drink. She grinned, then angled her head as though listening to something. Her eyes went to the partially opened door. "That's my phone. Excuse me."

She disappeared inside. The next second he heard her yell, "No! Why?"

Lex shot to his feet at the anger in her voice and entered the house.

"He can't do that," she added. "We'll see about that. I'm coming. Yes, Ricky. Right now. I don't care what Cian thinks."

Annoyance flashed through Lex. He'd cleared his calendar to spend the afternoon with her and she was leaving? And who the hell were Ricky and Cian?

He opened his mouth to ask her what was going on, but the words died on his lips when she turned off the phone, covered her face, and whispered, "This is all my fault. I should have taken care of those bastards."

The anguish in her voice hit Lex hard. His annoyance disappeared as his need to protect took over. He cleared his throat, and she whipped around. The pain in her eyes cut him deeply. It took all his willpower to stay where he was and speak in a neutral voice.

"Is everything okay?"

CHAPTER 13

Jillian wasn't sure how much of her one-sided conversation Lex had heard. She picked up her jacket and shrugged it on.

"A bunch of local thugs broke into my father's house. He's recovering from a heart attack and now..." Her voice broke. She wished she could tell him everything. "I have to go."

"Talk to me, Jillian," he said.

"There's nothing to talk about." She sucked at lying and couldn't meet his eyes. She stared at his throat instead. "Can I, uh, borrow the Low Rider?"

He shook his head, and her eyes flew to his. Anger brewed in the depths of his gray eyes, and she flinched. Was he angry with her? She wouldn't blame him. He was paying her to be his girlfriend and make their relationship look real, and here she was leaving.

"Look, I know you have a right to be angry because I'm supposed to spend today with you, but I didn't plan this. I'll call my brother—"

"You don't need to do that. And no, Jillian. I'm not angry because you have to go. I wish you'd trust me. That's all. I'm not letting you ride because you're in no state to do so. I'm taking you."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks." She reached for her bag, aware that he was still watching her. She glanced up, and their eyes met. "Uh, could I also take the money with me?"

"Sure." He turned and brought his phone to his ear. "I need Mathews on the helipad. Not now, Paula. Thank you."

Jillian watched him like a hawk, waiting for him to leave. She didn't know the layout of his penthouse, just the kitchen, living room, and how to get in and out of Douglas' place. But since he occupied the entire floor and the rooms were humongous, she hoped he'd be gone long enough for her to make a call.

As soon as he disappeared around the corner, she called Chris.

"Dad is selling everything to pay off those thugs and disbanding the troupe," she said, moving toward the deck.

"What? When?"

"Ricky just called me. The Armenians went to the house again and vandalized it. Sophia was at home, Chris. Can you imagine how scared she was? I want to hurt those bastards."

"Don't do anything stupid, Jillian."

"Dad didn't deserve this, Chris. Yes, he made a bad decision. And yes, he should give back the money he owes plus interest, but these ass-hats victimize people. Sophia will probably need therapy to deal with this. Ricky is so pissed. Cian didn't want me called in, but I'm going anyway and taking the money to them."

"No, Jillian. Talk to Fitzgerald."

"This is not his problem. He doesn't interact with thugs, Chris." She didn't want him to look at her like she was trash. Then something else occurred to her and her heart dropped. "Worse, if they know of our connections, they could easily go after him. I couldn't live with myself if they did that."

Chris sighed. "You're overthinking this. My suggestion is a business transaction, and he has people who do these things for him. Talk to him, Jill."

Footsteps alerted her before Lex entered the living room with a duffel bag. "I have to go, Chris."

"Trust him," Chris added.

Jillian hung up and started for the foyer, but Lex cupped her elbow and directed her toward the deck. "We're taking the helicopter."

"We don't have a helipad near my house," she protested.

He chuckled. "Mathews can land anywhere. Your backyard. Front yard. The driveway."

"Is that legal?"

"If I have your permission to land, yes," he said.

She frowned. Her backyard had enough space. Then there was the street in front of her house. The entire neighborhood would come out if he landed there, which might not be a bad idea. She'd put up with enough snarky questions from smart-alecky kids and their judgmental mothers about what she did in Hollywood.

"What movies are you in, Jillian?"

"How come we haven't seen you in a movie, Jillian?"

"Is it true you stand in for the actresses when they're tired and they need to rest?"

Finally, she'd show them. "Yes. The front of my house is wide enough for a helicopter."

"Good." Lex punched in a code, and the gate leading to the helipad opened. Mathews was already checking the dials inside the chopper when they reached the helipad. Jillian gave him the address, and like this morning, he punched it in the GPS before they took off.

Lex was quiet during the ride, lost in thought. Jillian wondered what he was thinking about. Probably wondering about her family. Maybe he regretted choosing her for his fake wife project.

Jillian sat back and stared straight ahead, her mind going in circles. How was she going to convince her father to accept the money? There was no democracy in their family. Whatever their father decided, everyone went along with it. Even Uncle Rowan, his younger brother, often went along with their father's suggestions. Since he didn't want her involved, everyone was going to take his side.

The closer they got to her place, the tenser she became. A large, warm hand covered hers, and Jillian looked up at Lex. "I'm sure your father is okay."

She gave him a tiny smile, wishing she could confide in him.

Neighbors poured out of their homes before they landed. School was already out for the day, so kids left their parents on the patios and driveways, walked onto the street, and stared. By the time the helicopter landed on their front lawn, they were running toward their house.

"Do you want me to wait?" Lex asked.

Jillian glanced at her house. The living room curtain moved, and Sophia's pretty face pressed on the window. All of a sudden, Jillian wasn't too sure about challenging her father. Daniel Finnegan was larger than life. He wasn't just the head of the Fearless Finnegan Troupe; he was also the MC of Bay Area Circus, working closely with the owner. On stage or at home, he ruled with a firm hand. He wasn't cruel or anything like that. He just didn't like to be contradicted, so his word tended to be the law.

When he'd said Jillian couldn't be part of the troupe, no one in the family had said a peep. Their lack of support had hurt, and she'd headed to Hollywood vowing to return in glory. She'd imagined her father begging her to rejoin their act, asking for her forgiveness for sending her way. Never happened. Yet here she was eleven years later, ready to ask him not to disband the troupe. She was insane.

She looked at Lex. "Can you come with me?"

Surprise flickered in his gray eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She couldn't explain it, but knowing he was with her made her feel a lot more confident. "But if you'd rather not, that's okay."

Lex smiled reassuringly. "I want to."

He followed her down and exchanged a nod with Mathews. Already the neighbors' kids were climbing over the low-lying fence and inching closer to the helicopter. There were no boundaries when she was growing up, and that hadn't changed. The parents watched from the comfort of their stoops, and some even waved when she made eye contact.

Jillian led the way to her front door, the warmth of Lex's hand on the small of her back reassuring. The other gripped the moneybag. The door flew open before they reached it, and a bundle in pink and purple shot out and straight into Jillian's arms. If Lex wasn't there, she would have tipped backward.

"You're here... You're here... You're here..."

Four-year-old Sophia Finnegan was the actress in the family. She was a precocious, totally adorable kid with riotous brown curls and the greenest eyes in the family. Greg wanted to rep her and hadn't given up on convincing Ricky that she was destined for fame.

"Hey, munchkin," Jillian cooed, rubbing her back. "I missed you, too."

Sophia leaned back and said, "Bad people came to see Grampa. Two"—she counted her fingers—"three men. One had a shiny head with no hair."

Jillian's first thought was to distract her. She carried her into the house. "That's terrible, sweetie. Where's Mommy?"

"They were mean to Grampa, Jill," Sophia continued without answering Jillian's question. "I told them to stop being mean to my grampa, but the man with no hair said Grampa was a bad man. Grampa's face was red. He yelled, 'Get Out! Get Out of my house!'"

Jillian closed her eyes and groaned, completely mortified. "Well, I hope Grandpa is okay," she said weakly, wishing Sophia would shut up. Instead, the imp peeked at Lex and ducked her head.

He'd followed them inside the house. Directly ahead was a pile of broken furniture and picture frames. Worse, sounds came from the back of the house where her father's bedroom was located. Sounded like an argument. Were the others finally standing up to their father?

She led Lex to the living room and frowned at the changes. Pictures were missing from the fireplace and the wall. The men must have broken them.

"Then Mom grabbed me, and we hid in the closet and covered our ears," Sophia added and sniffled. Jillian focused on her. Sophia's green eyes swam with tears.

Jillian hugged her tiny body and fought tears, not caring anymore that Lex was hearing the sordid details.

"They made a big mess," Sophia continued, sniffling and hiccupping, tears rolling down her cheeks. Jillian wiped them. "And Mommy was so mad. She wanted to call the police, but Grampa said no. So she called Daddy and Uncle Cian. The bad men touched Daddy's special ball. No one is supposed to touch Daddy's special ball."

The "special" ball was Ricky's most prized sports memorabilia. He had caught it during the playoffs and even had it signed by the hitter. Jillian tried to put Sophia down, but the little imp clung to her neck and wrapped her legs tightly around her waist.

"There's glass on the floor, Aunt Jillian. That's why Mommy said to stay in my room, but Lucy was jumping and pointing at the sky and I wanted to see what she was pointing at. Then the heli... heli... plane came down."

Jillian adored her niece, but she could try the patience of a saint. Someone had already swept the glass away. "Sophia Angelique Finnegan! There's no glass on the floor and you have shoes on."

Sophia shook her head, curls whipping every which way, her tiny legs tightening around Jillian. Then the little imp glanced at Lex and stage whispered, "He's a stranger."

Jillian groaned and lifted her up. Of course, after the fiasco with the thugs, she'd be leery of strangers. "Sophia, this is my friend Lex. Lex, my niece Sophia."

Sophia studied his face then whispered, "Your friend, Aunt Jillian?"

"Yes. I know where he lives, and I know his mommy."

"He has a mommy?"

"Hard to believe, isn't it?"

Sophia frowned, not getting it. "Daddy doesn't have a mommy. You don't have a mommy."

"Some grown-ups do. I also know his best friend, Douglas."

Lex made a sound like he was trying not to laugh. Jillian glared at him. _Let's see how he likes being held hostage by an impossible four-year-old._ "And you know what, hun? He's going to show you his heli-plane." That got Sophia's attention. "It is really cool. Would you like that?"

Sophia nodded and wiggled out of Jillian's arms. "Can Lucy see the inside too, Aunt Jillian?"

"Oh yes. Besties are invited."

"And Jessie?" Sophia asked.

Jillian looked at Lex. "Can Jessie see inside the heli-plane, too?"

Lex nodded, his expression hard to read. He'd probably heard the plea in her voice. "Absolutely." He bowed to Sophia. "I always wanted to escort three little princesses."

Sophia giggled. "I'm not a princess. I'm Sophia Angelique Finnegan."

"Really? You look just like Princess Sophia," Lex said and offered her his hand. "May I have the honor of escorting you to my heli-plane?"

Sophia giggled. "Who is Princess Sophia?"

"A princess I met from far, far away," Lex said.

Jillian watched as he charmed her niece. Just before he walked through the door, he glanced back and gave her a reassuring smile. Knowing he'd be around if she needed him was enough. She nodded. Her glance went to the duffel bag with the money when the door closed behind them. Refusing to second-guess herself, she grabbed it and headed toward the back of the house.

Her heart pounded louder as she got closer to her father's bedroom, and so did the raised voices. She hesitated one last time, but mentally slapped herself, blew out a breath, and knocked.

Silence followed from behind the door. Then it was jerked open.

"Sophia, I told you..." Ginger's voice faded when she realized her daughter wasn't the one knocking. "Jillian?"

"Hey." Jillian stepped forward, but Ginger didn't move aside. Instead she glanced behind her. "Uh, excuse me? I'd like to come inside."

She blinked nervously, then stepped back. She'd always been skittish and scared of her father-in-law. Jillian glanced around. The entire gang was there, including Elena, Cian's wife. Aunt Molly, Uncle Rowan's wife, was the only one missing, but then again, she wasn't part of the business. She was a librarian at a local elementary school.

"Hi, guys," Jillian said, eyes staying on her father who managed to look in charge despite being bedridden. He must hate that. She went to his side. "You're looking better, Dad."

"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly before she reached him. A different person would have stopped. He had a gruff voice and a presence that could be intimidating, but Jillian had learned to ignore both.

"Visiting." Jillian planted a kiss on his cheek. "This is still my home." She glanced at the others who watched her with varied expressions. Ricky looked worried, Ginger relieved, Cian pissed, while Elena smiled smugly. Her cousins, Des and Aiden, stared at their hands.

Uncle Rowan looked more tired than usual. He murmured, "Hey, kiddo."

"No, it's not!" Her father's voice whipped out and cut across the room.

Jillian turned to face him. "What is not?"

"This is not your home. Not anymore. You should not be here, Jillian."

Jillian flinched and glanced around, but no one was looking at her now. She couldn't remember the last time her father had called her Jillian. It was always Jilly. She wasn't even sure why that mattered now after what he'd just said.

"Okay. I do have my own place, Dad, but—"

"There's no _but_ , young lady," he barked. "We're having a family meeting about a family business, and you cannot be involved. You're no longer part of the Fearless Finnegan Troupe. You have your life away from this. Go back to it."

It was obvious the others hadn't told him. "I want back in, Dad. These years in Hollywood haven't been easy. I belong here with you and the rest of the family. _Finnegans stay together_ , you always say. I'm older, smarter, and I don't take chances anymore."

He shook his head. "Damn it, Jillian. Only a Finnegan can be in the troupe, and you are not a Finnegan."

If he'd reached out and punched her, the pain would not have been as swift or piercing. Her throat tightened, but she refused to back down. "That doesn't even make sense, Dad. If you're talking about blood, Elena and Ginger are Finnegans by marriage, yet they're part of the act. I'm your daughter. If the business is in trouble, I should be told about it. If people are chipping in, I want to help too."

"We don't need your help." He looked at Ricky and ground out, "Get her out of here."

Ricky moved to Jillian's side and reached for her arm. She stepped back. "Fine. I'll leave, but here's three hundred and fifty thousand you can use to keep things going." She placed the duffel bag on the bed. "If you need more..."

"We don't need your money, Jillian," her father said and nudged the bag with his knee.

"Dad, please," Ricky protested.

"Stay out of this, Ricky. You shouldn't have called her. She didn't need to know about this."

"I haven't told her anything, except that you want to sell the business," Ricky yelled back. "And she does have a right to know. She's our sister. If we all helped, maybe we could get enough money to pay the Armenians enough to back off."

Silence followed, but her father was not looking at Ricky. His eyes were narrowed on Jillian. She swallowed.

"You're not my daughter," her father said, cutting her off. "I never officially adopted you. You mother was a sweet woman, but very naïve. I wanted her to be part of the troupe, so I married her. I wanted her to stop asking me to adopt you, so I printed some papers off the Internet and filled them out. Wendell showed me how to forge things. Half of the Bay Area employees don't have real papers."

This time the silence was spooky. Jillian tried to speak, but her throat muscles had seized up. "Why are you...? You're lying," she whispered.

"No, I'm not," her father said. "You're no more my daughter than a child I'd picked up off the street and offered room and board while she worked for her upkeep in my troupe." Someone made a mewling noise behind me. Probably Ginger. "I did right by your mother and raised you, but enough is enough. Why do you think I sent you away when you turned eighteen, huh? I'd hoped you'd never know the truth. You're forcing my hand by insisting on being here. You're not a Finnegan, Jillian. You never were."

Blood roared past her ears, but his words were clear. Still, she refused to believe him. Everything he'd ever done and said to her couldn't be a lie. This was some practical joke. An attempt to stop her from rejoining the troupe.

Dizziness washed over Jillian, and she realized why. She'd stopped breathing. A bad habit she'd perfected as a child when she couldn't get her way. She sucked in air as memories from the past zipped through her head. Children on their street and those they'd meet at the performances asking her what it felt like to be a Finnegan.

"Great! I have the best family in the world," she'd say with pride.

All lies? She didn't think so. How many noses had she bloodied when some kid dared to say she wasn't really a Finnegan because she was adopted? How many times had she been sent to the principal because she'd threatened to beat up someone? Even Ricky had sucker punched a few A-holes for messing with his sister.

She was a Finnegan and proud of it.

Tears burned the back of Jillian's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She glanced at the others. Except for Uncle Rowan, they all stared at her father in horror. Daniel Finnegan was not her father? No, she refused to believe it. This was something he'd cooked up for some twisted reason.

"Cian? Ricky?" She needed just one person to tell her it was a lie or a joke. Maybe stand up to her father and call him a liar.

Her brothers shook their heads. From their expressions, this was news to them.

Jillian whipped around and faced her uncle. "Uncle Rowan?" she asked. "Is this true?"

He nodded. "Sorry, kiddo."

A knife twisted in her gut would have been less painful. Jillian tried to swallow, but her mouth had turned into sandpaper.

"Why didn't you tell me bef—" Her voice shook to a stop. "Before?" she whispered.

He father glared, eyes icy, his hands clenched on top of the covers, but he didn't speak.

"Why?" Jillian shouted.

"Because I made a promise to your mother," her father, or the man she'd believed was Dad, snapped. "Take your money and leave," he growled. "We don't need it. And don't ever come back here again."

Hysteria bubbled to the surface, and Jillian laughed harshly. "Don't worry, Da... _Mr. Finnegan._ I won't dirty your doorsteps again." She reached for the duffel bag, unzipped it, and turned it upside down. The wads of bills fell onto the bed, a few landing on the floor. "Keep the money. It should make up for what you spent on my clothes, food, dance and gymnastic lessons." She turned to leave.

"I don't want your money," he called out, and Jillian paused. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from saying something she'd regret. Exhaling, she continued toward the door.

Ricky reached for her arm. "Jill—"

"Don't, Ricky." She yanked opened the door and carefully closed it behind her when she wanted to slam it. Old habits died hard. Tears welled in her eyes. Another old habit. She always cried _after_ a confrontation, not during.

She stopped, lifted her chin, and blinked rapidly. The door opened behind her and she took off, not wanting to see or talk to a Finnegan. Ever. Again.

~*~

Thugs and money were a terrible combination. No matter how Lex looked at it, something bad was going on with Jillian's family. He should be inside by her side, not dealing with gawking neighborhood kids. They kept inching closer and closer until they surrounded the helicopter.

Sophia had decided she didn't want her friends to join them after all and was seated with Mathews at the front, asking questions and waving to her friends. A star in the making.

"Mister, is this your helicopter?" one boy asked.

"How fast does it go?" another asked.

"Can you do tricks in the air? My Uncle Jimmy has a plane and he can make it do loop-de-loops in the air. But his plane is this small." The boy indicated with his pudgy hands.

_Yeah, toy planes._ Lex smiled at the boy and explained why his helicopter couldn't do that. Question after question, but he still didn't let them get on board. You allowed one on, you had to allow them all.

His eyes went to the front entrance of Jillian's home. He didn't want to worry about her, but he couldn't help it. Coming from a large family, he knew how one incident by a single member could affect everyone. The Fitzgeralds had their share of scandals, so he was used to family crises.

Lex was beginning to lose his patience when the door opened and Jillian stepped out. From the way she gripped the duffel bag to her pale face, he knew something was wrong.

"Okay, boys and girls, we are about to take off. Go back to your mommies and daddies," Lex said as he pushed away from the helicopter and went to meet Jillian. Her eyes were empty, yet her chin trembled. She bit hard on her lower lip. "Are you—?"

"Don't ask, please," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Let's just go."

He rushed her into the helicopter. Her niece called Jillian's name several times, but Lex doubted Jillian heard her. Instead, she stared at her hands and twisted the straps of the duffel bag. Lex lifted Sophia from the front seat and forced the little girl to focus on him.

"I'm going to set you down now, princess, and I want you to run to the house," he said.

"Why?" Sophia asked, her eyes volleying between his face and Jillian's.

"Because the blades of the helicopter are very dangerous and they whip up everything in the air, even little girls.

Her eyes widened. "Is Aunt Jillian sick?"

"She's not feeling too good, but she'll be okay after I take her home." Their front door opened, and a man around Jillian's age stepped out. He wore the same shell-shocked expression as Jillian. He stared at Lex and Sophia, then the helicopter and saw Jillian. Determination settled on his face as he cut across the lawn.

"Daddy, Aunt Jillian is sick," Sophia said, wiggling from Lex's arms and running to the man.

Her father scooped her up, his tortured eyes going back to Jillian, who stared straight ahead. Lex cleared his throat, drawing the man's attention.

"Oh, hey," the man said, but he didn't make an effort to introduce himself or focus on him.

"I'm Lex, Jillian's friend," Lex said.

Once again, the man spared him a brief glance before his eyes sought Jillian. Lex wasn't used to being ignored. Something bad had happened inside the house to make brother and sister look like their world was falling apart.

"Jilly," he said tentatively, and she flinched. She didn't even look at him.

Okay, time to go.

"We have to leave," Lex said firmly and slid beside Jillian. Sophia's father finally looked at him, his eyes narrowing. While Jillian was fair in complexion, this man was dark-haired with tanned skin and piercing green eyes his daughter had inherited.

"You're the dude with _my sister_ in the papers?" he asked, stressing the words my sister.

Jillian stiffened beside Lex. Lex nodded. "Yes."

The younger man swallowed, his eyes begging. "She deserves the best, so treat her right."

"I intend to. It's been nice meeting you..."

"Patrick Finnegan," the man said and shifted so he could see past Lex to Jillian before adding, "Jillian's brother."

"Let's go, Lex," Jillian whispered. She leaned forward and glared at Sophia's father. "Ricky, we have to go."

Her brother scowled. "I'll come visit—"

"Don't bother," Jillian snapped.

"As soon as we're done here," Ricky finished as though she hadn't spoken. "I mean it, Jillian. I'll come find you." He waited expectantly for her response, but she had leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

Ricky shook his head and stepped back, then turned and carried Sophia to the safety of their porch. Just before they took off, several men and women joined them. The Finnegan family must have had one hell of a meeting, because from the look on their faces, it hadn't gone well.

Jillian was tense, her knuckles white on the strap of the bag. Lex reached out and covered her hand. She cringed, but he didn't let go. Tremors shot through her body, making him want to gather her in his arms. Halfway back to L.A., her hand opened and gripped his. He angled his body in case she wanted to rest her head on his shoulder. Her body stayed stiff and unyielding despite their clasped hands.

"Can Mathews drop me at home?" she asked.

"No." There was no way he was letting her out of his sight. "You promised me the weekend, except Friday when you're doing something with your brothers."

"That's been canceled."

"So I get Friday, too?" he asked.

She didn't smile at his attempt to lighten things. Instead, she sighed. "Lex, I just want to wash all the gunk off me, crawl into bed, and sleep for days."

She'd showered before they left the set. Why shower again? What the hell had happened at her house?

"I have a big tub and an even a bigger bed," he said.

Earlier, she would have laughed or made a sassy retort. Now, she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Different scenarios popped into his head, but he couldn't reach any based on what Sophia had revealed and Jillian's behavior. All he knew was that she was in pain and he was going to do everything in his power to make it go away.

By the time Mathews landed on the helipad, Lex had a plan.

Inside the house, he showed her the bedroom and the bathroom. The look in her eyes made his chest ache. There was so much pain and despair. Did she need more money? It was obvious they must owe quite a lot for the guys to come to their house and threaten her father. And earlier she'd said it was her fault. How?

He rubbed her arms. "What happened at your place?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It's not my place. Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head.

"Talk to me, Jillian."

"I, uh..." She sighed. "There's nothing to talk about. I have my own home now, and it's not with them." She wiggled out of his grip and started for the bathroom. He watched her go, then heard the water running. The door was still open, and he caught her reflection as she undressed.

Heat shot to his groin.

Lex ignored his raging libido. He needed to focus on Jillian. Of course, that didn't negate the fact that she could look like road kill and he'd still want her.

He left the bedroom. Their lunch was still on the table. He threw the rest away and was about to go check on her when a ding came from Jillian's jacket. He fished her cell phone from the pocket. She had several messages from her brother Ricky and someone named Cian. The other brother? Possibly.

He took the phone to the bathroom, but the room was empty. Where the hell was she?

"Jillian?" The water in the tub rolled, and he realized she was completely submerged under the bubbles. He swept the bubbles out of the way, a bad feeling washing over him. Her eyes were closed, and there were no bubbles floating from her nose. No! He dropped to his knees, dove inside the water, and dragged her out.

She came up fighting. Water sloshed over the side of the tub.

"What are you doing?" she yelled.

"I thought..." Of course, she couldn't kill herself by drowning in the damn tub. "You okay?"

She started to nod, then shook her head.

Her grief seemed to have deepened. "Your brothers texted you."

She took her phone, dropped it in the water, and leaned back against the tub pillow. Okay, this went beyond thugs and money. She was angry with her family.

He stayed seated on the edge of the tub, but she ignored him. Whatever happened, she'd tell him when she was ready. She'd have to before the anger hit her. He knew about the grieving process. He reached out and stroked the wet strands flowing to her shoulder.

"I'm here when you need to talk." She closed her eyes, shutting him out. "Do you want remote control for the TV?"

Her eyes opened. "That's nice, but I just want to be alone, Lex."

He got up, picked up the remote control from the rack under the TV, and placed it by the soaps and conditioner. She watched him without saying anything.

"I'm going to pick up a few things from the office, but I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Uh, Lex. Maybe I should check into a hotel or something. I'm not going to be good company."

"We've already closed that subject. You're staying here."

"Why do you care? I'm nothing to you."

But she could be everything to him, if she gave them a chance. "I always keep an eye on my investments."

Her eyes narrowed. "You know I can walk right out of here, and there's nothing you can do about it. I mean, you can't force me to stay."

He cocked his eyebrows. "You want to bet?"

"Ass." She splashed him. "Go away."

"I'll be back. Don't do something you'll regret."

A glimpse of the old Jillian appeared as amusement flickered in her eyes. "Like what? Ignore your arrogance and leave? Possibly. Drown myself? Not over them."

Them who? Her family or the thugs?

CHAPTER 14

"Do I have any appointments tomorrow?" Lex asked Paula as she followed him into his office.

"I rescheduled them all before you left for St. Martin. Most of them were okay with next week."

"Good." He walked around the desk and pulled open a drawer. "I'll be working from home, so send me the files on Valley View Towers and Calaveras Estate."

"Mr. Calaveras is not returning our calls. He's out of town and his assistant refuses to confirm it, but I know someone who knows someone in his office."

Paula and her sources never ceased to amaze him. He was convinced she belonged to a secret organization of personal assistants who traded information. David Calaveras owned the property adjacent to Valley View Towers, a high-rise they'd acquired last year but hadn't started restoring. It was an old building in Culver City with an interesting history. He planned to restore it, not dismantle it, but he needed the land around it to make that happen.

"Calaveras is in Vegas," Paula continued. "He won't be back for another week."

"Get him on the phone." Lex sat and plucked his private cell phone from his waist.

Paula moved closer, furrows on her brow, honey-brown eyes apologetic. "I've tried. He's not in any of the hotels or resorts. Maybe he's staying with a friend."

That was possible. The man had a serious gambling habit. High rollers like him always had friends arranging private lodgings and games.

"Don't worry about it. I'll find him. Just place the files on the shared folder and mark them so I can find them easily."

He dialed his mother's number. He'd hoped to tell her to start planning his wedding, but he wasn't sure where things were headed with Jillian. He was pleased she'd agreed to come home with him, but that didn't mean jack. She might have done it to avoid her brothers.

"Lex. This is a surprise," his mother said.

"I have to cancel tonight, Mom. Something came up that I have to deal with."

"Is everything okay?" Concern laced her words.

"Yes, nothing for you to worry about. I'll take care of it, and we'll be back on track." He and Jillian. He must find a way to gain her trust.

Estelle chuckled. "Work and more work. That's all you ever do, my darling. If I hadn't met Jillian, I'd be convinced you never date. Don't worry about me. I have plenty to keep me occupied."

"I still need your help with a project, Mom. Do you remember David Calaveras? He used to play golf with Uncle Sean when I was young."

Estelle laughed. "Of course I remember Calaveras. He cut quite a dashing figure in those days. A confirmed bachelor. Flying here and there on a whim. He owned a few horses and would place the most outrageous bets on them." She laughed. "He had an eye for horseflesh and always won."

"Would he talk to you if you contacted him?"

"I don't know, dear. He and I haven't spoken since your father died. What is this about?"

He explained about the property and the difficulty he was facing contacting Calaveras.

"Leave him to me. I heard he built a magnificent house in Vegas, and I just happen to know who can get him to talk to me. What do you want me to do? Get his number or close the deal?"

Lex grinned. He'd known she would bite. "Close the deal."

"Send over the contract and everything you have on the property," she said, Estelle Fitzgerald businesswoman taking over. She gave him a few more directions, reminding him of the days he'd worked under her. "I still have that sharing software your people installed on my laptop. It's full of folders of pictures of my grandchildren now, but I'm sure I'll recognize a new folder when I see it." Silence followed, but Lex knew what was coming. She was about to slip back into Mom-mode. "It would be nice to have a folder with your name on it too, Lex. I hate to push, but I'm not getting any younger and I don't want to miss out on knowing your children."

Lex imagined little girls who looked like Jillian. Pretty. Stubborn. Opinionated. After seeing Jillian with her niece, he was convinced she'd make a wonderful mother. "Soon, Mom," I promised.

"I hope so, dear. Okay, send the files. Calaveras will not know what hit him."

Lex chuckled at the excitement in her voice. "Give me a second. And thanks for helping with this." He hung up, grabbed his tablet from the drawer, and started to stand up when it dinged. He swiped a finger across the screen and went through the files.

"They are all there," Paula said, entering his office. For the next half hour, she pointed out a few things various departments had sent her, but Lex was impatient to leave. If she said the file was complete, it was. Until he knew what had happened at Jillian's house, he was uneasy leaving her alone for too long.

"Send a copy of the Calaveras Estate file to my mother. In fact, give her everything you have on the project. She's taking it over. I'm officially on vacation starting now." She didn't seem surprised that he was taking work with him. He always did while she ran his office in his absence and acted as the liaison between him and his employees.

"I'll be back on Monday."

"Going anywhere special?" she asked, following him out of his office.

"Yeah, upstairs." This time, he got her. Her eyebrows rose in question, but he didn't explain. He'd never worked from home before, but there was a first time for everything. He was sure the entire executive floor already knew Jillian had picked him up from the airport last night. Paula was just too discreet to openly bring up Jillian's name. "I don't want to be disturbed unless it's absolutely necessary."

He headed for the elevator. The house was quiet when he entered. Too quiet. He expected Jillian to still be in the tub, but as he started across the bedroom, he noticed the bump under the blanket. He changed directions.

It wasn't even five and she was fast asleep, curled up with her arms tucked under her chin. He couldn't help thinking she was warding off blows. Fury built up inside him. Life could be cruel, but a loving family made it bearable. Hers was hurting her instead. Why?

He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She sighed and shifted, and that was when he noticed the tears slipping under her eyelids.

His hands fisted, the urge to punch something blindsiding him. What the hell had her family done to her to make her cry? Lex pulled up a chair from the reading area, sat by the bed, and gently stroked her face until she calmed down. Something else registered as he covered her. She'd borrowed one of his T-shirts. His favorite. He'd bought it the first time he skied K2.

Reluctantly, Lex left her side and peeked into the bathroom, but she'd drained the water and tidied up. Even her clothes were nicely folded and placed on the lounge. Her cell phone was now in the garbage.

Whatever her family had done must have hurt her deeply to make her not want to talk to them. But how did the thugs who'd paid her father a visit and hundreds of thousands of dollars fit into it?

For the rest of the evening, Lex stayed on the deck and worked on the new Valley Towers project. He checked on Jillian periodically. The tears didn't restart, but she still didn't wake up.

He called Eddie later in the evening and spoke briefly with his wife before Eddie came on the line. Lex listened to his cousin and grinned. Jillian's assessment of Low Rider had impressed him.

"I want to meet her, Lex," Eddie said. "Maybe she could consult for Leeds."

"You can meet her next weekend at the family dinner. Whether she agrees to consult for Leeds is up to her." Actually, he had a feeling Jillian might enjoy that. He could talk to her, but she might be more receptive if the offer came from Eddie. Jillian didn't trust easily and he didn't want her questioning his motives, especially after his reaction to her present job. "Ask her when you two meet."

"Why can't you do it?"

Eddie wasn't a people person, which was why he needed Lex. "Because Leeds is yours, Eddie. As soon as you say the word, I'll step down and remain in advisory capacity only. Consider my shares a gift to your daughter and son."

There was silence, then, "Are you serious? You're talking about millions of dollars, Lex."

Lex chuckled. "I never joke about money. Besides, if you offer Jillian a job and she accepts, I wouldn't want her working for me." The hypocrisy of his statement didn't escape him. As long as they had the fake-wife contract, she was working for him. "You can drop the name Leeds and go back to FMC if you like." FMC stood for Fitz Motorbike Company.

Eddie laughed. "Damn, man. That's generous, but Leeds is catchier."

"No, it's not. I'm hoping you'd make a one-of-a-kind bike for Jillian as a wedding present _and_ agree to stand by my side with Chase and Baron."

This time, Eddie whistled. "Wedding? You found the one?"

Lex grinned. "I did. Now I just have to convince her." Amy had a tough time convincing Eddie that she loved him because his cousin had some fucked up pre-conceived notions about love. Lex hoped that wasn't the case with Jillian.

"I'm sure you'll prevail," Eddie said. "I've seen you in action." He paused before adding, "How come I haven't heard about her? Do the others know?"

"Mom knows I'm seeing her. She'll meet everyone next weekend. Let's talk later, Eddie. I need to check on her."

He and Eddie had always had a unique relationship. Lex loved his brothers, but they worried too much about him. If they knew about the adventures he and his friends took, they'd round up the entire family and wait for him at the nearest resort—or worse, insist on staying in contact the entire time. Nothing was a buzz kill like staying plugged in while battling nature. Since almost all his friends had no living relatives, except Sloan, things could get awkward between them fast. So Lex had chosen to confide in Eddie just in case something went wrong. Eddie never shared that information with anyone in the family. Lex could trust his cousin with anything.

Lex checked on Jillian and then headed downstairs to Douglas' place.

"I'm feeling better, sir. I'll be upstairs shortly to prepare your dinner."

Douglas' idea of better was obviously very different from Lex's. The man looked like shit. "No, you won't. Rest. I insist," he added when Douglas looked ready to argue. "I'll order something from Eros." As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he had no idea what Douglas liked. "What would you like to eat?"

Douglas looked uncomfortable with their switched positions. "I should order, sir. I know your preferences."

"I'm ordering dinner, Douglas, and that's the end of it. Now tell me what you'd like to eat."

Lex frowned as he walked back upstairs. He needed to pay more attention to those closest to him. He'd been with Douglas for ten years and he'd never noticed what the man ate.

Jillian slept through dinner. He tried waking her up, but she just rolled over and curled up in a fetal position. His second attempt earned him, "Go away, Alexander."

He grinned. She only called him Alexander when annoyed. He'd kept her awake the night before, so he knew she was exhausted. Still, he worried. He ate alone, and for the first time in his adult life, Lex felt lonely.

Before heading to bed, he called Sloan.

"Still having the party on Saturday?" Lex asked.

"Moved it to Sunday. Deedee is flying back on Saturday." "Deedee" was Sloan's baby sister, Deidre. "Do you think you'll still make it?"

"Maybe for a few hours," Lex said.

"Then it's on. Go easy on Rod on the TNO pictures. It was my fault someone followed you from Van Nuys. I mentioned you were flying in, but in my defense, I had no idea the girl draped all over Rod was a journalism student. She took the information and ran with it. Selling the story and pictures to TNO was an attempt to impress him."

"Did it work?"

Sloan chuckled. "No. I think it gave him a reason to get rid of her. He's sworn off women and promised to follow your M.O."

"Which is what?"

"Do a background check on every woman before he beds them. Or in Rod's case, _after_ he beds them for the first time."

Lex chuckled, but he wasn't amused. He'd changed his M.O. with Jillian, or he would have foreseen this mess with her family before it happened. Maybe he should have had her investigated. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he was happy he hadn't. He would have missed out on meeting her.

"Okay, Sloan. Usual time?"

"Yeah. I have a few guilty pleasures lined up, so bring your appetite."

Lex hung up the phone and reached for his tablet. Anyone listening to their conversation would conclude they were a bunch of bored billionaires with depraved tastes. Yes, he and his seven friends worked hard and partied hard, but there was more to them than making money, women, and pitting their skills against nature's most dangerous elements.

Bringing his appetite was Sloan's way of saying Lex should bring his checkbook or start moving funds around. Guilty pleasure was a code for a new cause worthy of their organization, _Infinitus Agendum,_ Latin for Infinite Agenda or limitless plan. Sloan's parties were perfect covers for their meetings.

_Infinitus Agendum_ had one goal—to alleviate suffering from around the world without getting political. They worked with humanitarian organizations, using the power of their checkbooks to send aid wherever it was needed. They sponsored doctors and engineers without borders, provided food and shelter after a disaster, natural or otherwise, and even funded operations when governments didn't want to be involved.

Sloan, who worked from home and had more flexible hours, ran _Infinitus_. Rod's vast media influence made sure atrocities were reported. Cade, the tech guy, made sure no hacker followed the money trail and identified them. The other four contributed more than their money too—Rake and his private satellites, Dom and his CIA connection, Aiden and his import and export business, and Lucien, another IT guru in the group. Dot-com bubble might have made these seven men wealthy, but their ingenuity had made them experts in their fields. But when it came to _Infinitus_ , they preferred to stay in the shadows.

Lex moved funds around, turned off his tablet, and left for the bedroom. Jillian was still asleep. He crawled in bed and pulled her into his arms. He could get used to listening to her breathing.

Okay, it would take awhile, he decided an hour later. He wasn't sure whether it was the fact that Jillian was sprawled out on top of him and his cock had a mind of its own or if he wasn't used to a woman sleeping in his bed. And when he finally fell asleep, sniffles woke him up. Jillian was crying in her sleep again.

"It's okay," Lex whispered. "I'm here. I'm never letting them hurt you again."

~*~

Jillian was alone in bed when she woke up. The drawn curtains made it impossible to tell the direction of the sun. She squinted at her watch. 11:30 a.m. No wonder she was starving. She'd slept through the night.

Whenever life threw her a curveball, she went into a catatonic state, shutting down mentally, emotionally, and physically. So she slept, only waking up to eat something, anything she could find that didn't involve cooking—more often comfort foods—before crawling into bed again. The doctors had said she processed grief differently. Chris called it her zombie-state. He'd nursed her through a few. They never lasted more than a few days.

Fighting fatigue, Jillian sat up, angled her head, and listened for sounds, but the house was quiet. Lex was probably at work. Douglas? Who knew what he did when his boss was gone? Polished silver?

Even her jokes were not funny.

Jillian stood and stared at her reflection on the wall mirror. The T-shirt she'd borrowed from Lex's closet reached her mid-thighs. It was decent enough. Besides, she was alone. She left the bedroom and padded to the kitchen. No one was there.

She was taking inventory of the fridge when sounds came from the living room. She looked up, expecting Douglas. Lex entered the room instead. He wore jeans and a polo T-shirt, his feet bare.

"You're finally up," he said, a smile tugging his lips.

It pained her to look at him. He looked so vibrant and gorgeous while her head was filled with wool and her mouth tasted funny. She looked like hell, too. All she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and block out the world.

She really should take this pity-fest home. No, not home. Her brothers might be camping there. She needed a hotel with a restaurant, so she could order room service from their dessert menu.

"I hope you're hungry," Lex continued, closing the gap between them. "I have pancakes and sandwiches." He stopped in front of her, tilted her chin, and studied her face. "You don't look so good. How are you feeling?"

"Great."

Lex chuckled. "First Douglas, then you. Go to the patio. I'll get you something to eat. Coffee?"

"Cheetos."

He frowned. "No."

"Ice cream?"

"Hell no."

"Chris would get me ice cream," she grumbled.

"Good thing I'm not Chris." He clasped her shoulders and redirected her toward the living room. "You didn't eat last night and missed breakfast this morning. You'll eat something nutritious if I have to feed it to you."

"Bully."

He chuckled, the sexiness of the sound wasted on her. She was pissed at him. She dug her heels in. "I want to go home."

"No, you don't."

"Then get me ice cream. Rocky road and mint chocolate chip."

He gave an exasperated sound and scooped her up. Jillian grabbed his shoulders to steady herself. His warmth and scent engulfed her, making her feel safe and loved. Except he didn't love her. What had he called her? _An investment_. The new name for a fake future wife. The urge to cry washed over her. She fought it. She hadn't cried over what her father had said, and she sure as hell wasn't going to cry over a fake boyfriend.

Why was he grinning? "I really don't like you."

"Then it's a good thing I like you enough for the both of us. You're adorable even when you're being stubborn."

She studied his face. He hadn't shaved and looked extra sexy this morning. She wanted to rub her cheek against his, close her eyes, and burrow under his chin, and not think or feel or care about anything. The problem was he made her feel so much and care too much.

He left the house and placed her in a lounge chair by the pool. Still grinning, he planted a kiss on her lips. "Stay put," he warned and disappeared inside the house.

What could she possibly do? Jump over the glass wall surrounding his pool and deck? He was taking care of her, just like Chris had done when her mother died and after her father sent her away. She'd hit rock bottom both times, just like now.

It was a beautiful day. Sunny and smog-free. On a good day, she would have appreciated it. Now, the scene with her father kept flashing in her head. The things he'd said, the delivery cold and calculated, still stung. She pressed a hand against her stomach to stop the ache.

"Here we go," Lex said, stepping out of the house with a tray.

Why was he so damn cheerful? "Why aren't you at work?"

"Because I'm spending the day with you. Come on. Eat."

The pancakes looked amazing and the mini sandwiches were enough to feed an army, but Jillian's taste buds had stopped working. So she shredded her pancake, sipped the coffee, and listened to Lex's voice without hearing his words, her mind miles away, until he covered her hand.

Jillian stared at him and blinked.

"Did you hear anything I said?"

She appreciated his attempts to engage her, but her heart and head were out of the game. "I'm sorry. I really need to lie down."

"Not yet. Try a sandwich instead of that goo." He removed the mashed pancakes and gave her his plate with one of the sandwiches. "If you eat, I'll get you the Cheetos and the ice cream." He shuddered. "Nasty combination."

She focused on him, seeing past the teasing smile to the concern in his eyes. She felt bad. He was being the perfect host. She picked up the sandwich and took a bite, then another. She finished the first one.

"Much better. Now talk to me." He placed a second on her plate.

"About?"

"Your family."

"I'll pass." That subject was still too painful.

"I meant before your mother married your stepfather."

Her mom. How she missed her. Their earlier crazy life? Not so much. Was she ready to share the past with Lex? She'd never told anyone about New York, not even Chris. But Chris probably knew. He and her mother had become very close just before she died. He'd worked with her, too.

"What _exactly_ do you want to know?" Jillian asked, hedging.

"Where were you born?"

"New York somewhere." Funny she rarely thought about her childhood. Her memories of the years before the Finnegans were sketchy at best.

"How old were you when you left?" Lex sat up, his eyes not leaving her face.

He was wearing a blue polo shirt that added splashes of blue to his grays, like a cloudy day. Funny how he could be completely comfortable in tailored suits and also in casual wear. She found herself studying his toes. Sheesh, was everything about him beautiful?

"Jillian?"

Her eyes flew to his face. What were they discussing? Uh, New York. She didn't want to talk about New York. She wanted to crawl into bed and watch a _Lifetime_ movie and cry over someone else's sob story.

"Our time in New York is a blur. I remember a house and a nice backyard and a man who'd visit us." A memory flitted through her head, but she couldn't hold on to it. She remembered her mother being happy whenever he visited and that he'd buy them stuff—food, toys, and books. She still owned some. He'd loved reading to her. How could she not remember his face?

"I attended a regular school. I was in second grade when Mom picked me up early from school and said we were going on an adventure. She'd already packed our suitcases." It was so long ago it felt like it had happened to someone else. "It took us nearly three years to get to California."

Jillian glanced at Lex. His intelligent eyes had narrowed at her confession. She wondered what he was thinking. Compared to his upbringing, hers must sound weird.

"Why three years?" he asked.

"We made several stops. _Many_ stops." Jillian smiled, remembering some of them. "We visited every landmark and monument in the states we passed or lived in. Mom found odd jobs and a place for us to stay for a few months. Some were great." Memories flashed in her head. Good and bad ones. "Others not, but we had each other. After a while we'd pack up and leave again. Since she homeschooled me, we didn't have to worry about school."

"And your father?" Lex asked, an angry expression on his face.

Jillian didn't want to deal with his feelings right now. Not when she was barely holding on to hers. She tried to picture the man in New York again, but the memories still eluded her. She never really gave him much thought after she became a Finnegan. Now she couldn't help wondering if he'd been her father.

"I don't remember one, until... Until Mom married Finnegan." Finnegan. Her father. She didn't want to talk anymore. "Could I have more coffee?"

When Lex disappeared into the house, Jillian closed her eyes and tried not to think of the past, but this mess with her father brought back memories. Some good. Others ugly.

At the first regular school she'd attended after arriving in L.A., a boy in her class had started a rumor that Jillian and her mother were criminals and that was why she'd been homeschooled. Jillian never learned where George Schmidt had heard such nonsense. Yes, they'd moved lot, slept in her mother's tiny car on a few occasions, lived in dingy apartments, motels, even a trailer, but they never stole anything from anyone. Her mother had always found work. She'd been big on visual learning.

So when Georgie "Porgie" Schmidt had started that rumor, Jillian had leaped across her desk and given him a bloody nose and a split lip. Her mother had picked her up and went back to homeschooling her. That was the first time she ever shut down after an incident. Scared the crap out of her mother.

Lex returned with more coffee, his cell phone ringing in his hand. "I need to take this." Before the door closed, she heard him say, "Lander, thanks for returning my call."

Why was Lex calling Chris?

CHAPTER 15

Nine o'clock. Jillian stretched and smiled. She was back, thanks to Lex. He'd yanked her out of her funk with his brand of care. He'd given Douglas the weekend off and taken care of her, completely enabling her.

Cheetos.

Ice cream.

Anything she'd wanted, he'd provided. At night, he'd cradled her in his arms and not once tried to cop a feel. The man didn't believe in sleeping in anything, which made him the perfect bedmate. She'd woken up at odd hours of the night to find herself sprawled all over him. The fuzzy feeling she hadn't wanted was growing fast, and she was helpless to stop it.

As for her family, Lex never brought it up again since their discussion on the deck. Instead, he'd regaled her with anecdotes about his family—from his Irish grandfather who'd headed to California and made his fortune during the gold rush, to his Great Aunt Sophia who was nearly a hundred years old.

Jillian had barely kept up with who was who in his family—his twin brothers, their spouses and kids; his sister Jade and cousins, Ashley, Faith, and Eddie and their families; his aunts and uncles and their children, and his Aunt Vivian. His Aunt Viv, as he affectionately called her, was apparently the matriarch of the Fitzgerald family and a formidable woman.

"Everyone is married with kids except you. What are you waiting for?" she'd asked.

"The best. I have discerning taste," he'd said.

Jillian had tried not to care about his response, but now she couldn't help but wonder what kind of woman would bring the mighty Lex to his knees. Get him to propose. Probably some blueblood with a weird name and a lineage that went back to the Founding Fathers. People tended to gravitate toward their own kind. Look at her brothers. Elena and Ginger had both worked in Vegas as showgirls.

_Her brothers_. She'd never think of Ricky and Cian as anything else no matter what her father had said. Just like Daniel Finnegan would always be her father.

Had her brothers gone looking for her at her place? Possibly, especially since she had destroyed her phone. They knew where she hid her spare key. Ricky would have left a note on her fridge door. The more practical Cian would have insisted on calling the police.

No, they hadn't tried to find her. Ricky had met Lex and would have tracked him down or called Chris. The fact that they hadn't proved that, once again, they'd let their father dictate what to do. Guess the years they'd spent together didn't matter. The holidays and the performances. The family dinners, silly sibling fights and rivalry, then...

No, it was time for the pity-fest to stop. Time to face the world and get her ass home. She had work tomorrow. Her stomach growled. She needed food and clean clothes, especially underwear. She'd used her spare pair already.

The thought of going to her place and getting some had filled her with dread. Not anymore. Yes, her home was filled with family mementos—pictures and presents they'd given her—but she planned to box them and put them in storage until she decided what to do with them.

"Good morning," Lex said, and Jillian whipped around.

Her stomach flipped and flopped, a behavior she now associated with Lex. The urge to walk into his arms and never let go washed over her, but she squashed it. Despite the fact that he'd taken care of her, she was here on a job. The line between reality and illusion was blurring, and it was his fault. He should stop treating her like she was his real girlfriend.

"Or is it another bad morning?" he added.

His attempt at humor was sweet, and he came bearing a gift. Coffee. Her senses celebrated at the thought of caffeine.

"It's a perfect morning," she said. Her hand went to her hair when he continued to study her. She knew she wasn't at her best, but he'd seen her at her worst the last couple of days. Still, self-consciousness hit her. "Thanks for everything. Taking care of me while I, uh..."

"Coped with a painful situation," he finished. He tucked lock of stray hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, but I think I've outstayed my welcome and should go home," she whispered.

He shook his head. "No."

"Yes. This is not my home, Lex. I need clean clothes."

"This is your _future_ home, and I have a better idea." He took the chair beside the bed and tugged her down to his lap. "We're going shopping."

Jillian was not in the mood to start on her Mrs. Fitzgerald trousseau. She shook her head. "Future _temporary_ home, and no, we're not. I have nothing to wear except your T-shirts."

"I love seeing you in my shirts, but I have something better." He lifted her up and dumped her on the bed unceremoniously, then grinned when Jillian sputtered with indignation. He disappeared into his walk-in closet and came out holding the blue dress she'd worn to his mother's party. On his other hand were the silk panties she couldn't dry that night. With her ankle boots and leather jacket, she could make the outfit work. Too bad she couldn't master enthusiasm to go with it.

"Well?" Lex asked, placing the dress on the bed by her side.

After all he'd done, she owed him. "I guess we're going shopping." She extended her hand for the panties, but he shoved them in his pocket. "What are you doing?"

"I'm keeping these for now."

Jillian was not in the mood for games. "Lex."

"Come on, breakfast is waiting." He whistled as he left the bedroom.

She glared after him. Cruising commando was something she did when she was in a playful mood or feeling frisky. Sex was the last thing on her mind.

She showered and pulled on the dress. Then she remembered her other clothes. She'd left them near the tub on Thursday evening. Jillian checked every cupboard and drawer in the bathroom and came up blank.

"Where are my clothes, Alexander?" she asked, entering the kitchen, and saw Douglas. Warmth rushed to her face. "Morning, Douglas."

"Morning, Miss. Jillian. How are you feeling?"

"Good." She hadn't seen him since Thursday. He looked better. "And you?"

"Well rested. Breakfast will be ready in five minutes."

"Oh, thanks. Have you seen a pair of jeans and a turquoise shirt? I left them by the tub, but they're missing."

"They are in the washer and won't be ready for another hour."

Jillian blew out air. She could either get her panties from Lex or go without. That man. She could kill him. "Where is he?"

Douglas' expression didn't change at her tone. "Mr. Fitzgerald is on the patio."

She thanked him and left the kitchen, but Lex wasn't on the patio. Water splashing drew her attention, and she headed toward the pool. Where were the pants he'd worn earlier? They were nowhere near the pool, and he hadn't changed in the bedroom. Was there a changing room near the pool? He'd never got around to giving her a tour.

She marched to the edge of the pool and watched him. He was swimming freestyle, his strokes perfect. Was there anything he wasn't good at?

Jillian tilted her head as she studied him. He swam the way he made love. Precise. Effortless. Warmth pooled low in her stomach. It had been days since they'd had sex. She missed the taste of him. The way he made her feel when they kissed and touched. She imagined pulling off her dress and joining him in the pool.

Lex pulled up to the edge and looked up. "Ready already?"

"Where are my panties?"

He grinned. "You mean my souvenir?"

She rolled her eyes. "I can't walk around in broad daylight without panties in this dress, Lex."

"Buy a pair at our first stop." He floated backward, looking boyish and carefree when she wanted to neuter him. "You'll thank me later."

"How about we forget about shopping and I join you in the pool?" She reached down and pulled off a boot.

"Why not? I'm sure Douglas is going to enjoy the view." He rolled over and continued toward the other end of the pool.

Jillian growled. He could be so annoying sometimes. She grabbed her boot and stomped back into the house, imagining all sorts of painful, humiliating torture on Lex's perfect ass.

"Is everything okay, Ms. Jillian?"

She made a face. "Nope. I want to strangle him. Have you seen the sweatpants he wore earlier?"

Douglas didn't crack a smile. "No, but they might be in the laundry or the changing room." He pointed at the short hallway off the kitchen.

"Thank you." She'd known there was a changing room somewhere. Lex really ought to give her a tour. Or she could just explore. The sweats weren't in the laundry room.

"Looking for something?" Lex asked, and she whipped around. He stood in the doorway with a smug smile. His swimsuit hugged his hips and other yummy parts of him, which stirred under her gaze.

Her eyes flew to his, her face warm. "Just exploring your beautiful home. Now go away."

"If you take them, you'll miss out on a wonderful surprise." He walked away while Jillian debated what to do. Damn, now she was curious. He knew just what to say to get her all worked up.

Jillian left the laundry room and entered the changing room. There was a shower, a sauna, and a steam room. A door led to the patio. Lex's sweats were on a peg and her silkies right where he'd put them. Jillian debated with herself, then shoved them back in the pocket of the pants and left the room.

When Lex joined her, she was done with breakfast and was chatting with Douglas. Lex cocked an eyebrow, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of confessing. In fact, she completely ignored him and continued to discuss various cuisines with Douglas. But the naughty billionaire hated to be ignored.

He walked to her side, lifted her chin, and kissed her. And it wasn't an innocent peck either. It was more like I-know-you're-naked-under-that-dress-and-I-want-you-now. When he lifted his head, Jillian stared at him in a daze. He really was an amazing kisser.

"Thank you," he said, and she realized she'd spoken her thoughts. She didn't care. "We should get going," he added.

He could have said "jump off my balcony" and she would have been halfway down to the pavement before she got her wits back.

Jillian didn't know whether she wished Douglas goodbye because she came back to her senses in the elevator. The smile on Lex's lips said he knew he had her. With a kiss. When had she become so easy?

"The surprise had better be worth this," she said.

"You'll let me know once you have them."

Despite his words, she saw concern in his eyes. He was worried about her. Jillian looked down at their clasped hands and reached a conclusion. The entire panties-stealing incident had been Lex's attempt to get her mind off her family problems and he'd succeeded. She was once more focused on them.

Her heart warmed. For the first time since she'd agreed to his crazy proposal, Jillian wished their relationship was real and they had no contract hanging over their heads.

She also made a decision. Keeping the truth about her family from Lex was pointless. The man was going to be her husband for a year. She'd told him he must ask her father for her hand in marriage and convince her family he loved her. Her family was no longer in the equation. He'd want to know why.

"Stop the elevator," she said.

Lex did without asking why, then peered at her. "What is it?"

"My father's business was going downhill, so he made unwise investments..." _Oh who the hell am I kidding?_ "He _borrowed_ money from a local Armenian loan shark. The man wants his money back, but Dad doesn't have it. I offered him the three-fifty I got from you, but he refused to take it. Told me he didn't need my money." Her tongue tripped as she tried to get everything out before she chickened out. "He said I wasn't really his daughter, just someone he raised because he married my mother. He also said..." Her voice shook to a stop. Thursday's scene flashed in her head, and her throat closed. When she continued, her voice came out shaky and squeaky. "He said he never really adopted me, so I'm not a Finnegan. Ricky begged him to stop. He and I have always been close. Cian, my other brother, often goes with whatever Dad says, but this once I wished..." Jillian blinked to stop the tears. "I wish he'd have said something. Anything. He just stood there. He's my big brother, and I always looked up to him. My cousins, Des and Aiden..." She shook her head. "They've always been scared of Dad. Elena, Cian's wife, never liked me anyway, so I knew she was laughing on the inside. Ginger has always been scared of Dad, so I didn't expect anything from her, but Uncle Row..."

She stopped again to control her emotions and, for the first time, glanced at Lex. Color had drained from his face, but his eyes burned with fury. Instead of focusing on the tight squeeze of her heart and the pain, she reached for his hand and squeezed tight as though to take his anger away.

"The bottom line is my father didn't want my money," she continued when she could speak again. "He told me to never step inside his house again."

Color rushed back to Lex's cheeks. Gray eyes became molten and darkened to mercury-gray. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that alone, sweetheart. If I'd known, I would have come inside with you to explain." He peered into her eyes. "I've seen how parent's react negatively to decisions their children make. It causes unnecessary pain and suffering. Your father will one day learn that your decisions are your own, whether he approves of them or not. Since I'm partly responsible, I'd like to pay your father a visit and explain."

Jillian blinked, confused. "What my father said has nothing to do with you, Lex."

"I disagree. I came up with the proposal. Your father must have found out how you got the money and got angry."

She stared at him, her mind processing his words at a slower pace. Could he be right? Why hadn't she thought of that? Her father's behavior, his words, and demeanor all pointed at disappointment. He'd learned that she was getting paid to be a fake wife. Throw in the pictures in the tabloids, and he'd probably concluded she'd sold her body as well. Since he couldn't say all that in front of the family, he'd hidden behind never adopting her or only marrying her mother so she could be part of the troop. He'd adored her mother. Could this be just a big misunderstanding and once she explained, things could go back to normal?

"Do you really think so?" Jillian asked, desperately seeking his affirmation, not caring that she sounded needy and insecure.

"Yes." The way he said it left no doubt in her mind.

"You're a genius," Jillian said. She wiggled her hand free from Lex's and threw her arms around his neck. "If we weren't in the elevator, I'd..." She kissed him, pouring all her yearning and gratitude into the kiss.

When she lifted her head, Lex was the one with a dopey expression and his erection was pressing against her. "Don't stop," he growled.

They reached for each other, lips locked, hands all over the place. Years of gymnastics came to her rescue as he lifted her and pinned her against the mirrored wall. She braced herself on his shoulders while her heels found their footing on the edge of the cherry wood paneling. She was already wet from the kiss he'd given her upstairs.

"I've missed you," he whispered, one arm sliding around her waist for more support while the other went to work. He slid a finger inside her, and her muscles welcomed the invasion. He added a second. "The feel of you. The taste. The sounds you make."

"Yes... Oh God. Yes." That thing he did with his fingers. She moved away from his hand as though to escape the intensity of the sensations, but he wasn't letting her go. Her dressed inched up, until her butt cheeks pressed on the cold mirror. Heat in front, cold glass in the back, her senses couldn't take it. "Now, Lex."

"Say, please," he teased.

She refused to play his mind games. He wanted this as much as she did. Gripping his head, she kissed him and rocked against his hand. She was so close.

His fingers slid out of her, making her want to scream. How could he leave her hanging like that? She bit his lower lip in retaliation. He groaned and kissed her hard, until she tasted his blood. She soothed the cut on his lip with her tongue, but he wasn't ready to play nice.

He gripped his erection and rubbed the velvet tip around her labia, deliberately delaying their joining. Maybe teaching her a lesson. Patience had never been one of her virtues, especially when she wanted something. Needed to be whole again.

"Please," she begged, not caring anymore. He had her.

"Look at me," he growled.

Their eyes locked. He lifted her higher, positioning her so her legs were over his arms and his grip was firm on her butt cheeks. Not breaking eye contact, he entered her slowly. Her body crumbled as an orgasm rippled through her.

He went still until the wave passed.

"I love it when you do that," he whispered.

"I don't do it," she gasped as he slowly withdrew and sunk into her. "My body does. Only with you." She wasn't coherent, and the sensations pulsing through her made hearing impossible because he mumbled something and she didn't catch it.

Her precarious position made it impossible for her to move freely, putting her completely at his mercy. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. He didn't change his tempo, and his eyes didn't waver from hers.

This was different. Usually they were like a rollercoaster, building momentum at a crazy pace, then hurtling into space, hearts pounding, lips locked, and hands everywhere. This...

Oh my. It was sensual. A dance of love. The gentleness in his eyes that said he was there for her. That it was okay to let go and trust him. That he would be there to cushion her fall when her world exploded. This was making love. That he was doing this to her in an elevator was so typical of him. He was always doing the unexpected. Throwing her off balance.

She felt exposed and vulnerable, yet she loved it. Loved seeing his every expression as he slid in and out of her. The sensations were overwhelming. The pleasure built up, slowly, yet it consumed every cell in her body. Her lungs burned. Her heart swelled. She knew she was never going to recover from this. Knew and welcomed it.

When she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he took it to another level, rolling his hips, letting her see his pleasure, the vulnerability in his eyes. They said he needed her. It didn't matter whether it was just for the moment. She felt it. Saw it. Her eyes welled, and with it came the need to hide.

"Don't close your eyes," he begged as he continued the slow, sensual torture. He was relentless. He gave her everything she'd ever wanted.

Tears raced down Jillian's face as her world exploded. He groaned her name and joined her. They stayed locked in each other arms, their breathing heavy, mirrors foggy from their heat, hearts beating in perfect unison.

CHAPTER 16

Jillian was still trying to find her balance when Lex pulled up outside Noelle Lingerie, a store a few blocks from the Beverly Center. The shops on the street were still closed.

"You do know we have to wait for an hour," Jillian said. She'd shopped on this street often enough to know the stores opened at noon on a Sunday.

Lex chuckled. "Before and after hours are the best times to shop."

He jumped out of the car and came around to open the door for her. As though she'd just been waiting for them, a tall, skinny brunette with an asymmetrical hair-do opened the main entrance and waved.

"Good morning, Mr. Fitzgerald, Ms. Finnegan," she said. Her focus stayed on Jillian. "It's nice to finally meet you. I hope you're feeling better today."

How the heck did she know her name? Tabloids of course. Jillian cringed, then the rest of the woman's words registered.

"Yes, I am." She glanced at Lex. Had he been forced to tell people she was ill?

"Mona was supposed to bring samples to the house, but I canceled the session because you were otherwise occupied," he explained, then smiled at the woman. "Thanks for coming in early today, Mona."

_Occupied_ must be the new self-pity fest. Before Jillian could process the idea of the woman coming to the house, Lex ushered her into the store. Preferential treatment must come with living in his world.

She soaked in the ambience and tried to act like she shopped there all the time. Sure, she could splurge with the best of them when it came to sexy lingerie, but there was no way she'd spend a thousand dollars on a Noelle chemise and bikini set. Their lines were sexy and feminine, silk with delicate Chantilly lace and handmade embroideries. Rumor had it that the silk came from an indigenous worm on an island in the West Indies and the local tribe only traded with the Noelle family.

Lex tugged on her hand to get her attention, and Jillian flushed when she met Mona's expectant eyes. She'd been so engrossed on her surrounding she must have missed their conversation.

"Mona Sinclair is the assistant manager at Noelle and your personal shopper from now on. She'll find anything you need any time. Mona, this is the woman I adore, my future wife, Jillian Finnegan."

Jillian's breath stalled in her chest, eyes flying to his. He was looking at her as though he actually adored her. Did he mean it?

"Then congratulations are in order," Mona said, her eyes searching Jillian's hand for a ring that wasn't there.

Jillian wanted to punch Lex. Why the hell did he introduce her like that? And without a warning. Luckily, Mona Sinclair was discreet enough not to ask about her ring.

"I hope you'll come to us for your bridal lingerie, Ms. Finnegan," Mona said. "Noelle Bridal is a favorite with celebrities and royalties. Harrods has been carrying it for the last three years."

Jillian nodded, still too stunned to find her voice. She tugged at Lex's hand and gave him a you-are-in-trouble-pal look.

"I have a room ready for you. This way please." She led the way to the back of the showroom and pushed open a door. Jillian dragged her feet to create a healthy distance between them and the woman before speaking.

"Why did you do that?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Do what?" Lex frowned, his expression perplexed. As if he really didn't know what she was talking about.

"What you said to her."

"Oh. Just speaking the truth," he said, not bothering to lower his voice even though they were closer to Mona. "You _are_ going to be my wife."

"I know." It didn't mean he had to tell everyone. Then there was the other part.

"And I adore you, Jillian Finnegan," Lex added while staring into her eyes. Her breath caught again. "Don't ever doubt that."

Now he'd gone and done it. She was going to turn into a puddle right in the middle of this fancy store and thoroughly humiliate herself. The urge to run and hide so she could analyze what was happening to her followed. She couldn't be falling for this man. No way. It would be stupid.

Lex lowered his head and whispered. "How did I do? Would I convince your father?"

Reality stung like an icy shower in the middle of summer. What was he doing to her? She was the improviser here, not him. She plastered a smile on her lips and hoped she was just as convincing.

"You nailed it, but Dad is out of the picture for now," she whispered back. "Just remember to give me a heads-up before you do or say anything."

"What's the fun in that?" he asked.

"I don't like surprises." Especially when they put ideas in her head. The thought that he could actually adore her... No, she wasn't going there. So he'd taken care of her and made love to her, big whoop. He got off on risqué sex in unusual places. Theirs was a work relationship. "Let's not keep Ms. Sinclair waiting, boss."

Jillian caught Mona watching them with an indulgent smile. She probably thought they were exchanging loving glances and whispering in each other's ear. If only she knew.

Mona led them down a hallway of what looked like changing rooms, but the doors were too far apart and normal looking. Just before they followed her inside one of them, a stunning brunette stepped out of a door to their left, peered at them, and squealed.

"Lex! I thought I heard your voice." Completely ignoring Jillian, she ran to Lex, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

A second passed. Then another. Oh for God's sakes.

Jillian's hands fisted. She had never considered herself the jealous type, but another woman kissing Lex pissed her off. They had a deal, damn it. No messing around behind the other's back. Of course, they had also meant no sex during their fake relationship. She'd crossed that out the moment he'd kissed her.

She wanted to yank the woman by her hair and drag her off Lex. No, he was the one who needed a kick in the nuts. Face hot, Jillian took a step away from them, but his hand whipped out and grabbed her wrist. Her eyes flew to his face.

What the hell? His eyes were open, yet he wasn't pushing the woman off him.

The brunette stepped back and said, "I've always wanted to do that and since you're getting married..." She smacked his chest and continued to ignore Jillian. "How come you never asked me out?"

Lex gave a long-suffering sigh. "Because you're not my type, Deedee."

She laughed. "Bullshit. I am every man's type. Ask Cade and Rod. I get a reaction from those two man-whores every time I walk into a room."

"That's because you're always half-naked," Lex retorted. He turned as though to introduce Jillian, but Deedee interrupted him.

"Lucien avoids being alone with me. He says I'm irresistible."

Jillian really didn't like this woman.

"Aiden is a Brit, and I'm so over foreign men. Rake doesn't count either. He's a robot. And Dom..." She shuddered delicately. "I'm not sure how he ended up in your little group. Probably blackmailed his way in. He's so weird and dark."

Lex chuckled. "Very inventive as usual, Deedee. Jillian, meet Deidre Noelle, my friend's bratty little sister and the owner of this." He indicated the store with a nod.

Deidre's mouth dropped. "Bratty? Sloan surrounds himself with the hottest bachelors in the world and you all treat me like your little sister. A girl must push boundaries to get some play. So far, I've been playing it safe. Not anymore." She turned and gave Jillian's outfit a sweeping glance before coming back to her face. "So you are _the_ Jillian Finnegan," she said, her eyes narrowing.

Did everyone in this store know her? Lex must have sent a memo or something. Mona seemed nice. Deidre was too damn free with her kisses. "Nice to meet you, Deidre," Jillian said.

"Why?" Deidre asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Why what?"

"Why is it nice to meet me? I've never understood why people say that. You know nothing about me. Thanks to Rod I know quite a bit about you. You're stunning," Deidre said.

Jillian had no idea who Rod was, but she recognized the annoyance in Deidre's voice and cocked her eyebrow. "Do I need to apologize for that?"

Deidre nodded. "Damn right you should. Because of you, I'll be one bachelor short for my summer auction." One perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted. "Unless you're generous and don't mind a woman winning Lex for a night."

"Hell no," Jillian said before she could stop herself, and heat suffused her face when Lex chuckled.

Deidre rolled her eyes. "Jealous girlfriends are so tiresome, but," she glanced at Lex and sighed, "I don't blame you. He's a keeper, and there're piranhas out there masquerading as women." She tilted her head as she went back to studying Jillian. "The pictures didn't do you justice."

The damned tabloids again. Jillian could either keep cringing every time someone mentioned them or she could own them. "Poor lighting and pool shots are never my selling point."

Deidre's lips twitched. "You're funny. You're going to need it to deal with him and the rest of the gang. Have you met them?"

"No," Jillian said, trying to be polite. She still didn't like the woman.

"We're seeing them later today," Lex said and glanced at Jillian. "If you're up to it."

"Do you think that's wise, Lex?" Deidre said, sounding genuinely worried. "A few of you together is not so bad, but the whole gang?"

Lex just shook his head. "I hope we'll see you tonight, Deedee. Don't mind her," Lex added as he escorted Jillian into the changing room. "She thrives on being outrageous. Mona, we're ready." He glanced at his watch. "We have another appointment in an hour."

But Deidre wasn't done. "Jillian, watch out for Rod. His mind is in the gutter twenty-four seven. I've seen him work a room, so he won't care that you belong to Lex."

"I don't belong to Lex," Jillian protested.

Deidre laughed. "Oh, sweetie. These guys are collectors, so whether you like it or not, you are his."

Jillian glanced at Lex. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "I don't know where she gets her crazy ideas. Rod would never cross the line, and I don't collect things."

Actually, he did. Jillian had noticed the works of art in the penthouse, and Douglas had mentioned his car collection.

Deidre laughed. "Don't listen to him, but I'll give you the heads-up. Rod never behaves because he can't help himself. He says he's naturally curious, but I think he gets bored easily. Cade will probably undress you with his eyes because he lets his gorgeous eyes speak for him. Lucien has a thing for blondes, but he's mine and I have no intention of dying my hair. If you have a sister, keep her away from him or she'll have to deal with me. I don't share. Rake doesn't say much, but he'll study you when you're not looking and know everything about you in under a minute. He's Einstein-smart and so is Lucien, so they tend to have pissing contests, except with computers. Cute. Aiden is charming, but he can be an ass. Then there's Dom." She shuddered. "Avoid him."

Jillian wasn't sure how to react to such revelations. "Thanks, I think."

"Don't think. Watch out. They're rich and get away with way too much. May I steal your man for a few minutes?" She didn't wait for Jillian's response before hooking her arm through Lex's and leading him away. Jillian stared after them.

She still didn't like that woman. Too entitled for her blood.

Mona waited patiently until Jillian focused on her and the room. The decor was simple, classy, and designed to make the guests feel at home—from thick luxurious carpet and plush chairs with a computer tablet to a selection of drinks—Perrier, iced tea, and water. Displayed around the room were the finest of woman's intimates—bras and panties, corsets, negligee, garter belts, slips, chemises, and more.

It looked more like a showroom than a changing room. The only odd things were the weird gadgets in the ceiling.

"Take a seat, please," Mona said and handed her a Noelle bag. "The special order came in. Enjoy." She smiled as though Jillian was in on the joke.

Inside the bag was a white Noelle box. Probably a gift from Lex. Was this the surprise he'd promised her?

"Have you ever used a virtual model before, Ms. Finnegan?" Mona asked.

Jillian dragged her attention from the present. "No. And call me Jillian."

"Okay, Jillian. You use these tablets to select what you want." Mona took the seat next to Jillian's, picked up a tablet, and swept a finger across the surface. The Noelle Lingerie logo filled the screen. With a touch of a button, a holographic image of a virtual woman was projected from the ceiling. It was anatomically correct. The model could be male or female.

"The windows allow you to browse our various lines. Sexy Temptation, Wicked and Wild, Sensual Delight, and of course, our Blissful Bridal line." She touched a button and the virtual model held a dildo. "We also have adult toys and creams. You can browse the designs and colors. Double tap your choices and they'll appear in the cart. You can also double tap any item to remove it from the cart. By the time you leave the room, I'll have your order ready to go."

With a click of a button, the model changed out of a sexy negligee into a bodysuit. She was amazed. "They should use this in every store."

"They will one day. Mr. Manos created the holographic machine. He's good with his hands." Her cheeks grew pink, and Jillian wondered who Mr. Manos was. "Mr. Noelle is the designer."

Deedee's brother? "Of the machine?"

Mona chuckled. "No, the lingerie. He understands a woman's body better than most female designers. He knows what empowers us, what's sexy, or feels naughty." Done with her sales pitch, she stood. "Help yourself to a drink, or if you'd prefer something else, I can get it for you. As your personal shopper, if you need anything, just call me and I'll bring it to the penthouse or ask Douglas to pick it up. If you are not sure, I can bring samples for you to try on. My card is in the bag."

_Someone pinch me._ "But don't you need my measurements?"

"Mr. Fitzgerald already sent them. If you'd rather use your holographic image, I can take your measurements."

Jillian was still trying to wrap her head around Lex knowing her measurements when Mona walked to the wall behind her, opened a drawer, and removed something that looked like a hand-held scanner.

"Stand in the middle of the room, please," Mona instructed. "I'll take three-dimension pictures to create your hologram."

By the time she left the room, Jillian had stopped blushing. Her holographic image looked way too much like her mirror reflection. How come she never realized that her hips were that wide? Or that her ass was a tad bigger than she'd thought. Still it was nice to see how the outfits looked on her.

Some of the corsets from the Wicked and Wild line were hot. She wasn't a bondage and S&M kind of girl, but she was all for women's empowerment in and out of the bedroom. The door opened while she was checking out some gartered lace panties.

"I like those," Lex said.

He would.

"Get those in all the colors," he added, taking the seat beside her.

Yeah, she could just imagine the bill. She was determined to buy one, or maybe two things, and that was it. Lex had other plans. He kept tapping items and had reasons why she should buy them. Of course he did. They fed his naughty side. By the time they were done, Jillian had the sexiest lingerie she'd ever owned.

"No body stocking," he said. "It covers too much skin."

She agreed, but she couldn't help contradicting him. "I like them. I think I'll take one."

He studied the hologram and sighed. "Fine."

He was such an enabler, until she tried to buy him some sexy underwear.

"We're done here. Try these on." He removed the box from inside the bag Mona had left with Jillian. She didn't bother to ask him to give her privacy. He'd seen her in nothing and at her worst. There was no point in faking modesty.

So sure it was a peek-a-boo lace set, Jillian was surprised to find a black silk and lace bikini and a matching strapless bra. The silk was soft, the design simple yet sexy, and they fit her perfectly. He _did_ know her size.

"I love them," she said.

"Me too." He removed a smaller box from inside the bag and opened it to reveal a palm-size remote control. "This has five levels and a twenty-five foot range. What do you think?"

Vibrating panties?

~*~

Lex studied Jillian's expression and waited. When he'd ordered the lingerie set, his goal was to spice up things outside the bedroom. The panic in her eyes after he'd told her that he adored her said he had a long way to go to gain her trust. If she said she didn't want him having that much control over her, he'd give her the remote.

"Are you planning on using it now?" she asked, sounding worried.

"No. Later. Or not. The fun is not knowing when or where."

Her eyes lit up. "You're so bad."

He chuckled and pocketed the remote. That was one of the things he adored about her. She was adventurous, just like him. Maybe things between them would turn out right. In the meantime, he planned to win her heart, starting with fixing the mess with her father. Lex stood and offered her his hand.

"Mona has a few papers for you to sign. Then we're on to the next stop."

"What papers?"

"Accounts. Yesterday while you were resting, I made a few calls and set up accounts under your name at several stores. All you have to do is sign the papers. Tomorrow, we'll need to stop by the bank to finalize the main account. What is it?" he asked when she stopped walking. She was frowning.

"Is this really necessary?" she said, sounding unsure.

"Yes, Jillian. Everything will be fine. We'll pull this off."

"How long before the guy from Japan comes to visit?"

"Three weeks. We'll be married by then." So much had happened in the last two weeks he'd almost forgotten the real reason he'd hired her. Actually, not forgotten. He'd chosen to push it aside as they explored the more pleasurable side of their relationship. "Come on, let's get this over with. I have plans for lunch."

She shot him a suspicious look. "What?"

"You'll love it. I promise."

"That's what I'm worried about," she murmured, her eyes going to his pocket where he'd put the remote control.

He grinned. Jillian was signing the final papers inside the front office when Mona looked up and whispered, "Mr. Manos is here."

Lex spied Dom standing outside the store like someone about to rob the place. As usual, Dom was dressed in his trademark black clothes—jeans, shirt, and a trench coat, including aviator sunglasses. His shoulder-length hair wasn't in its usual ponytail.

Most guys would have knocked on the glass door and asked for entrance. Dom expected his presence to speak for itself. The man liked to yank people's chain and deliberately make them dislike him. Even in college, he'd gone out of his way to be a pain-in-the ass. Good thing Lex saw through the bullshit. The two of them were even tighter than Dom was with Sloan, which said a lot because they'd known each other in high school.

"Excuse me," Lex said and went to let Dom in. They clasped hands, bumped shoulders in a manly hug, and stepped back. "What's going on?"

Dom scowled. "I heard you were about to get hitched and had to see the woman before the others. They'll hate that."

Lex didn't buy it. Dom never cared about competing with the other guys in their organization despite his humble beginnings. He'd had a nightmare of a childhood, but had risen above it. First was his stellar career as an "engineer" with the CIA, and then the proud owner of an oil company. He was the one who'd introduced Douglas to Lex.

"How the hell did you know?" Lex asked. "I barely told..." Lex looked toward the store. "Deidre."

"She called Sloan. And since I was at his place... So where's the little lady?"

"Inside." Lex glanced at the huge truck parked behind his Rolls.

Dom followed his eyes and smirked. "Makes that foreign shit look pathetic, doesn't she?"

Lex chuckled. The man had a sick sense of humor. "You know what they say about men driving big-ass trucks."

"Screw you, Fitz," Dom said and walked ahead of him. Lex followed, noting the manila envelope tucked under his arm.

"Is that envelope for me?"

"Sloan wants Deidre to sign some papers, but as usual she's being difficult. Why am I the go-to guy whenever he has to deal with her?"

"She has the others wrapped around her little finger. You, on the other hand, don't put up with her bullshit."

Dom grinned. "Neither do you."

"Doesn't mean I'm immune to her charms. I just happened to have grown up surrounded by women and know their little tricks."

"I didn't know we had little tricks, Alexander," Jillian said, coming to stand beside him.

"Not you, sweetheart." He wrapped an arm around her waist and anchored her to his side. "Jillian, I want you to meet Dominic Manos. Dom, Jillian Finnegan."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Manos," Jillian said, offering him her hand.

"Dom, please." He trapped her hand in his large ones, green eyes narrowing as he studied her. "Have we met before?"

Jillian smiled, studying his face. "I don't think so. I would have remembered."

Lex squeezed Jillian's shoulder. "Most people work really hard to forget crossing Dom's path, or he makes sure they forget."

Jillian elbowed him. "Don't be mean, Alexander."

Dom flashed a genuine smile. "Yes, _Alexander_. Heel and take this to Deidre while Jillian and I get to know each other."

Dom still held on to her hand, which bugged the crap out of Lex. He tugged and regained control of Jillian's hand. "I don't think so, my friend. We have other appointments." But Jillian dug her heels in when he nudged her forward.

"You designed the holograph they use here," she said. Dom nodded, but when he cocked his eyebrows in question, she added, "Mona mentioned it. It is an amazing instrument. Every store should use them."

"That's the plan. The Fearless Finnegans?"

Jillian flushed and the smile left her face. "Maybe."

"I recall a fair-haired changeling among them, until The Phantom Rider."

Jillian's cheeks grew pink. "Anonymity has its perks."

"Your secret is safe with me."

Lex had no idea what they were discussing. He'd never had a reason to be jealous of his friend until today. What the hell were The Fearless Finnegans and The Phantom Rider? Movies she was in and didn't want anyone to know about? She'd cracked a joke about loving Phantoms, but he'd thought she meant his car.

"We'll see you tonight, Dom," Lex said, eager to leave.

Dom nodded, but he was back to scowling and staring behind Jillian. Lex looked over his shoulder and saw why. Deidre had entered the showroom. Instead of ignoring Dom the way she usually did, she gave him a cheeky smile.

At one time, Lex had thought there was something between them, but then she'd started dating some tennis pro, their pictures hitting the tabloids, including Ron's. Dom hadn't seemed to care. He'd continued to bring his one-night stands, two or three at a time, to Sloan's parties.

"Dom, what a surprise?" Deidre reached up, pressed a kiss on his cheek, and fluttered her lashes. "Isn't this wonderful news? Lex is getting married. Are you here to see me?" She didn't wait for him to respond, just slipped her arm around his. "Let's go to my office and catch up. You two"—she wagged her finger at Lex and Jillian—"don't get married while I'm gone. I'll be back in two weeks, so let's do lunch, Jillian. I've decided we should be friends. Give Rod hell for the story and pictures, Lex. He deserves it."

Lex shook his head. He'd never understand women. He whisked Jillian away from Noelle and, for the next several stops, learned a little more about her. He'd thought she was just reluctant to buy lingerie because they were intimate apparel, but it turned out she was a frugal shopper, which only made him want to shower her with more things.

She tried on shoes, sighed, and returned them. Lex had the saleslady wrap them all up while Jillian reluctantly signed papers for another account.

One day, she would appreciate the convenience of having access to things without worrying about making it to a store before it closed. He entertained clients often, sometimes more than once a week. Since quite a number of them were from out of town and often brought their wives, Jillian would need to accompany him.

After several more stores, she begged him to stop. "I'm starving, and my feet hurt."

He touched the remote in his pocket and grinned. He promised to make lunch very interesting. "I know this restaurant not far from here—"

"Oh no," Jillian said, gripping his wrist so he wouldn't start the car. "We're picking up food from my favorite restaurant, then going to my place to eat, put this stuff away, and rest my feet."

Even better. "We can rest together."

She eyed him suspiciously. "When are we going to your friend's house?"

He checked at his watch. "Five. We have three hours to kill. How do we spend it since you don't want to shop?"

"We'll do whatever you want if"—she extended her hand—"you let me drive."

That was a no-brainer. He didn't even argue with her. He handed her the car keys and traded places with her. Her eyes widened when he pulled out the remote.

She looked at it and shook her head. "No, Lex. You can't use that while I'm driving."

"Sorry, babe. You don't decide what I can or cannot do." But he placed the remote in the tray between their seats. Teaching her to trust him was going to be fun.

"I swear, one of these days..." She started the car.

Her favorite restaurant turned out to be a fast food joint. He couldn't remember the last time he ate burgers and fries, but his mouth watered with anticipation. He reached for his wallet after they placed their order.

"Put that away, Lex. I'm paying," she said, handing the cashier the money.

"I thought we agreed—"

"No, we didn't. You insisted and said it wasn't negotiable. This is my treat."

"Really? This?" He took a handful of fries and shoved them in his mouth. Hmm, they were good. Cripsy. He reached for more.

"When was the last time you had burgers and fries?"

It had been years. "Last month."

"Liar."

"A couple of years. I'd forgotten how good they taste."

She laughed, the sound filling the car. He'd missed hearing it. "Want some?"

He fed her as she drove. She was anal about how she ate her fries. One at a time. It wasn't until she parked outside her apartment that he brought up the question that had been bothering him. "What is The Fearless Finnegans?"

"Somehow, I knew you'd bring that up. How about we carry all our purchases and food inside, and then we can talk while eating?"

"I've finished my fries. We should have bought more." He grabbed the bags of food and the two drinks, and had a burger in his hand by the time he reached the door.

"Seriously? You're eating first instead of taking in my things?" Jillian asked. She was by the back door of the Phantom.

Lex grinned and took a big bite of the burger. "Hmm, this is good. Want a bite?" She shook her head. "You don't know what you're missing." He was reaching for more fries when he saw two men step out of a black SUV across from her house. Something about them was off.

"Hey, those are my fries," Jillian yelled and abandoned the car.

A bad feeling washed over him when the men looked furtively around and started toward them. The bald-headed guy realized Lex had noticed them and lifted the edge of his jacket to reveal the butt of a gun.

Unaware of what was happening, Jillian snatched the bag of food from his hand and said something he missed.

"Come on. Unlock the door quickly," Lex said from the corner of his mouth.

She chuckled. "You really must be starving."

"Just do it, Jillian," he snapped.

"Watch that tone, mister." Instead of opening the door, she pointed the key at him, noticed his expression—which he was sure showed his unease—followed the direction of his gaze, and whimpered.

CHAPTER 17

"The Armenians," Jillian whispered.

She remembered that shiny head peeking out the window the day she'd learned about her father's money problems. This could end up bad. The only thing she could do was make sure Lex wasn't caught in her mess.

"Let me handle this," Lex whispered.

"No, Lex. This is my problem, not yours." If anything were to happen to him... Or worse, if they learned his identity, shit would hit the fan. Thugs always followed the money, and Lex was a better bargaining chip than she was.

"Damn it, Jillian," Lex growled. "I know what I'm doing. Men like these only understand one thing. Brute force."

She'd been sure he'd say money. What the hell did he plan to do? Take them down? No, she had to do something. Maybe she should pretend she wasn't Jillian. That she was visiting and was at the wrong house. Nah, if they'd been scouting her house, they knew exactly who she was.

There was no way she could bullshit her way out of this, unless she drew the attention of her neighbors. Her subdivision was full of young, upward mobile men and women, and on Sundays, they hung out at the pool and gym, which were in the building across the parking lot. Someone was likely to see them.

"Jillian Finnegan?" Baldie asked, stopping a fair distance and widening his stance. His right hand slipped under his jacket, probably for his gun.

"Who wants to know?" she asked aloud, hoping a neighbor heard her. Lex stiffened.

Baldie chuckled and exchanged grins with his partner, who was of average height and skinny with greasy hair. Physically, he was lacking as a sidekick, but his beady, dark eyes shone with malice and he had cruel lips. He was the one she had to watch for. The smaller thugs often had a complex and overcompensated.

"The boss wants to see you," Baldie said in a thick Armenian accent.

"She's not going anywhere," Lex said and gripped her arm.

Baldie studied Lex. "Do I know you from somewhere? Why does he look familiar, Yegor?"

"He's probably like her," Cruel Lips said in an even heavier accent and laughed like a demented fool. "A star in the business."

"Leave before either of you does something you'll regret," Lex warned, not appearing intimidated by the two men. In fact, he sounded cocky. "Tell your boss that if he ever bothers Ms. Finnegan again, he'll have to deal with me."

Jillian closed her eyes. Did he understand that men like Baldie didn't handle threats very well? Her heart hurtled to her throat when Baldie adjusted his stance, glanced around, and tapped the bulge at his waist. He was definitely packing.

Mouth dry, Jillian tried to take a step away from Lex, but his grip tightened. She elbowed him. "What _my bodyguard_ is saying is I can take care of this. You'll get the money my family owes your boss as soon as I talk to my father," she said, still buying time. _Come on, neighbors. Look out your windows. Videotape us. Do something._ "We can stop at the house on our way."

Baldie sneered. "We're not interested in the money, Ms. Finnegan. We are here for you."

"Why?" _Stupid neighbors. Of all days to keep their noses out of my business, they had to pick this one._

"Because you are Jillian Finnegan. Now what we find interesting is what your father said when we stopped by his house. Do you know what he said?"

"That I'm not his daughter," Jillian said, hating that it still hurt to say those words.

Baldie chuckled. "That's right. And that's after you arrived and left in a helicopter. Now why would a man deny having a daughter and remove pictures of her from his walls? A daughter neighbors said is a big star?"

No wonder the pictures were missing when she'd gone with Lex.

"I told you she's a porn star," Cruel Lips said from the corner of his mouth.

"Shut up, Yegor!" Baldie said.

Now Jillian was offended. "Excuse me?"

"Nobody's seen her in any real movies," Yegor whined, and Baldie let out a string of words in Armenian. From Yegor's expression, he'd just been chastised.

Lex had reached his limit. His voice cut like shards of glass when he spoke. "I'm going to say this one last time. Leave before someone gets hurt."

"What are you going to do, Mr. Bodyguard?" Baldie asked.

"He's a nobody," Jillian said quickly and jerked her arm from Lex's hand. She was surprised when he let her go. "He's a struggling actor I'm paying to act as my bodyguard." The irony of it all. "We can leave him here. I'm sure he'll find his way home."

"Sure, I will." Lex practically shoved her behind him. "After you leave."

Jillian groaned. Men. She started to move around him and froze. Douglas was by the phantom, right behind the two men. Had he been following them?

Lex moved toward the two men. They smirked. Baldie charged, but Lex shifted his body fast, grabbed Baldie by the shirt, lifting his left knee at the same time, then yanked the man down. His head connected with Lex's knee. He whipped Baldie around and shoved him into the shrubbery.

Holy crap. Lex can fight.

Cruel Lips reached under his coat, but Douglas was behind him. Jillian had never seen a man move that fast. Cruel Lips didn't see him coming either. One second, he was upright, and the next face down with Douglas' foot on his back.

"I hate guns," Douglas said. He removed the clip and dropped the gun. It hit Cruel Lips, who whimpered, before it landed on the cement with a clang.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Lex warned. Baldie was trying to get up and reach for his gun, which had fallen and was only a few feet from Jillian.

Jillian grabbed and cocked it.

"Jillian," Lex said slowly. "Give me the gun."

She shook her head. "I'm not going to be victimized by you guys," she said, her voice shaking, reaction setting in. She pointed the gun at Baldie. "Tell your boss he'll get his money. If he comes after me or goes after my father, I will contact the police and tell them everything."

Baldie nodded.

"The gun, Jillian," Lex said.

She ignored him. "Get up," she ordered Baldie.

He scampered to his feet and shuffled backward. He tripped over his partner, who was still on the ground, and fell backward. They struggled to their feet. Cruel Lips took his gun and ran to their SUV. When Baldie started to follow him, Jillian called out, "Forgetting something?"

The man looked back and shook his head.

"Your gun." She quickly dismantled it, the pieces dropping on the ground with thuds. Like Douglas, she palmed the clip. She was starting to shake. Lex still looked furious. Douglas nodded at her with approval.

Baldie collected the pieces of his gun with clumsy hands, then shuffled backward, eyes filled with hatred as they darted from Jillian to Lex, then back to Jillian. She read the promise in those eyes. He would hurt her the next time they met.

She was so terrified she couldn't think straight. There was no telling what those men would do if they came back and found her alone. And there was no question they would return meaner than ever.

"They'll be back," she whispered.

"Let's get you inside," he said.

"No. You should leave." She tried to unlock her door, but her hand started to shake. "You cannot be involved in this. You could get hurt. Or worse."

"I'm not going anywhere, Jillian."

Tears weren't far from falling, but she refused to cry. She focused on unlocking the door, but her hand shook so hard and she couldn't direct the key into the stupid keyhole.

"Let me do it," Lex said gently from behind her.

"No," she snapped.

He wrapped his arms around her and refused to let go no matter how hard she struggled. The fight left her and she sunk into him, allowing his warmth to chase away the cold that had crawled under her skin. She fought the tears and won.

Somehow, Lex knew the moment she calmed down. Without saying a word, he covered her hand and directed the key to the lock. He waited until she turned it and pushed the door open before letting her go.

Jillian entered her house on shaky legs, expecting the worst. Everything was exactly the way she'd left it, yet it wasn't the same. This used to be home. Her sanctuary. Those goons violated it by ambushing her. How long had they been waiting outside? How had they known where she lived?

Jillian went to the bedroom and dragged out a suitcase, then another. She yanked clothes from hangers and threw them in the cases. Shoes, boots, jeans, and shirts. She emptied drawers without thought. She was rattled, and she hated being rattled. Damn bastards. Her brothers should have used the money she'd left with them. Just wait until she got them on the phone.

Voices reached her from the living room. Did Douglas follow Lex everywhere he went? What was he? Bodyguard? Driver? Master of all trades?

"Of course she can't stay here," Lex said, his voice sounding closer. "Those bastards will come back."

Oh, she planned not to be around when they did. She had to talk to her brothers. She reached for her phone where she always kept it and remembered she'd dropped in the water. _Stupid move, Jillian._ Until Petrosian had his money, she wouldn't be safe. There was no saying what they'd do to her to get to her father. Cruel Lips already thought she was a porn star.

A knock on the door then Lex entered her bedroom. He didn't say anything, just leaned against the doorway and watched her.

"Does Douglas follow you around everywhere you go?" she asked.

"Most of the time."

She tried to close the suitcase, but it was too full. She pushed at the bulges and tried again. "I think I'll stay with Chris for a few days until I straighten out this mess."

"No. You're staying with me."

So the thugs could follow her to his house? She didn't think so.

"Could I borrow your phone?" She sat on her suitcase and tugged at the zipper again.

Lex sighed, lifted her out of the way, and zipped it up with zero effort. He turned and peered at her face.

She gave him a tiny smile. "Thank you."

"In two weeks we'll be married, Jillian, so moving in with me is the logical thing to do."

"Logic has nothing to do with this." He'd be safer that way. She started zipping up the second suitcase.

"So you'd rather put Chris and your agent in danger?"

Jillian frowned. She had gone with her instinct and hadn't really thought this through. After her mother died, Chris had become her go-to person whenever she felt threatened or unhappy. She couldn't put him and Greg in danger. "I'll check into a hotel."

"Then I'll check in _with_ you."

Jillian sighed. "Lex."

"I'm not letting you deal with this alone," he added when Jillian opened her mouth. "The penthouse is safer. I have better security than any hotel, a private elevator accessed only by those who know the code, motion detectors in the house, and Douglas. He's an ex-counterintelligence agent and can take down anyone." Lex grinned before adding, "He can help you dismantle a gun faster. He thought you seemed a little rusty earlier."

Jillian scoffed at the idea. "Forget about the gun. I want to learn his fight moves and how he disarmed—" She stopped, realizing that she'd caved again. Oh, he was good. "Fine. I'll stay for a few days, until I fix this mess."

"Why you? Your father created this mess. He should fix it. You've already given him the money."

She dragged the first suitcase off the bed, almost hitting her toes. She jumped back and cursed.

"Leave it before you hurt yourself." He lifted the suitcase like it weighed nothing and pinned her with a glare. "Why you?"

"Because that's what children do for their parents." She waited for him to bring up what she'd told him, that her father had said she wasn't his, but Lex just handed her his phone and carried her suitcase outside.

Jillian sat on the bed and dialed Ricky's number.

"Where the hell have you been and why weren't you answering our calls? I swear if you pulled that crazy-ass zombie shit you pulled whenever you felt sorry for yourself, I'm coming over there to whoop your ass."

Tears rushed to Jillian's eyes again. "Oh, Ricky."

"That shit wasn't funny when you were young, and it ain't now either. We went to your house several times and called every goddamn hotel in town, Jillian. Chris wasn't returning our calls either, and when he finally did, he didn't know where you were."

Petrosian's men must have followed her brothers to her place, but hearing the concern in Ricky's voice made up for all the heartache she'd gone through the last three days. "I'm fine, Ricky."

"You don't pull shit like this, Jillian. You don't do that to us. We thought..." He sighed. "We thought Petrosian grabbed you. We scouted his clubs the last several nights, but... Where are you?"

"At my place, but I'll be gone in..." Lex walked into the room and indicated with his fingers. "In five minutes."

"No, I'll be there in under an hour. Be there."

"I have to go, Ricky." She stood, ready to follow Lex, who'd grabbed her second suitcase.

He swore. "I swear if you try to use the crap Dad said to push us away, I'm going to find you and... and..." He sighed. "We need to talk, Jillian."

Jillian smiled. "We'll talk. I didn't want to tell you this, but Petrosian's men were here. I drove up and they were waiting for me. If it weren't for Lex and his bodyguard, they would have grabbed me."

Silence followed.

"Come home, Jilly," Ricky whispered, fear in his voice. "Forget what father said. It doesn't change a thing. You are family."

"Yes, Jilly. Come home," Cian cut in. "We can sort this out together as a family."

They'd just used their father's nickname for her. Tears escaped and rolled down her cheek. She swiped at it. "If you mean that, give Petrosian the money I left."

She disconnected and put the phone down. She gave Lex a weak smile and wiped her cheeks, but the tears kept flowing. Lex looked like he wanted to punch someone. He closed the gap between them and, without saying a word, sat and pulled her down on his lap.

The tears Jillian had fought hard not to shed flowed unchecked. This time, she didn't feel ashamed of breaking down. She clung to Lex until she was drained.

"Sorry, I made your shirt wet," she said, talking into his neck. "I don't usually have the waterworks over people or things, but this situation with my family—"

"Shh." Lex lifted her chin and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. "There's no need to apologize. You've held everything in for days, and it was time to let go. As for the situation with your family, things will work out in the end."

"You don't know my father."

"Actually, I'm beginning to understand him." He kissed her. "I don't think we'll go to Sloan's this evening. I'll stop by and sign off on a project we're doing together and just come back home. We'll have dinner and rest. Would you like that?"

Home. The word was beginning to have a new meaning and face. Lex and his kindness. Lex and his brand of loving. Lex and his ability to make her the center of his world. Jillian reached up, touched his face, and smiled.

"Yes."

~*~

Sloan's beach house hugged the edge of the cliff. There were no roads to the house or a place to park. The only access was by boat, seaplane, or helicopter. A set of stairs led to the beach below. Two yachts were moored side by side on the docks. Rod must have hitched a ride with Cade because his boat was missing. A helipad with markings for landing several helicopters sat perfectly on a level above the beach and below the house.

Lex landed his helicopter and started up the second set of steps leading to the front of the house. He'd hated leaving Jillian behind, but she had enough crap to deal with right now without adding a party. His friends weren't going anywhere. Unfortunately, neither was her family.

What kind of a father rejected his own daughter out of fear that bad guys might go after her? Lex had reached that conclusion after listening to the Armenian bastards sneer and make snide remarks to Jillian. If she weren't so emotionally involved, she too would have reached that conclusion. Jillian's father hadn't kicked her out because of their relationship or how she'd gotten the money as he'd erroneously concluded earlier. Her father knew what the Armenians were capable of. Pushing her away was his way of protecting her. Her untimely arrival must have thrown him for a loop. Still, telling her she wasn't his daughter was a shitty way of treating someone you loved in the name of protecting them.

Lex came from a family with many women. He'd learned at an early age that they were a lot stronger than men gave them credit for. His cousins had given him hell whenever he'd tried to treat them like they were helpless. His sister's situation had been different because she had an illness that needed to be managed. Still, he'd learned that it was better to include her in decisions that affected her. Jillian's father was obviously old-school, like his uncles who believed that women should be protected by keeping them ignorant of the dangers surrounding them.

The house was too quiet for someone having a party. Sloan usually had people frolicking in the pool, the grill going or some catering company providing food, and music blaring somewhere in the background. Most of the female guests modeled for his company.

Lex slid the door open, looked around, and frowned. The room was empty. He followed sounds of laughter and cheering downstairs to the media room. They were probably watching football.

Since the door was open, the men didn't see him enter the room. Six of them leaned forward in their seats, watching what appeared to be a circus with rapt attention. He'd watched his share of circus performers, but his favorite had always been the daredevils—bikers and trapeze artists.

A group of six bikers were inside the Globe of Steel. At first, they looped up and down. Timing was crucial for this sort of stunt. One wrong move could lead to fatal injuries. One of the bikers angled his bike until he was perpendicular to the base.

"She's good," Cade said.

"Yes, she is," Lucien said. He had a laptop open on his lap. He peered at the screen. "She and her brothers started riding inside the Globe of Death when she was a pre-teen. Look at this." He tapped a key, and the pictures on the screen changed.

It started with the riders leaving the globe. They circled the arena, stopped facing the audience, and removed their helmets.

The master of ceremonies yelled, "Ladies and gentlemen. The Fearless Finnegans."

They bowed, but Lex's eyes were drawn to one of them. The woman. Not a woman. A girl. Jillian. She must have been in her teens, but he recognized her.

So this was what Dom had meant when he'd said he recognized her and mentioned the Fearless Finnegans and a changeling among them. Jillian stood out among the men. Even as a child, she'd been amazing.

He stopped breathing when she put her helmet back on and took off, doing a loop before disappearing off the stage. Then she reappeared on one side of the stage, riding her bike on a wire. If he'd thought watching her do a stunt at the set was bad, this was five times worse. Lex broke out in a cold sweat as she crept up to the top of a wall while doing tricks.

"Turn it off!" Lex snapped.

The men turned to look at him.

"But you haven't seen her Phantom Rider act yet," Cade protested, but Lucien hit a key and the screen went blank. Someone turned on the lights. Not wanting the others to see how rattled he was, Lex left the media room. Sloan called out his name, but he didn't slow down, almost bumping into Dom.

"Are you guys done already?" he asked, but Lex kept going. "What the hell is going on?"

"He's pissed we were watching the Bay Area Circus," Cade said. "He won't let us meet her, so we found a way."

"How the hell did you find her?" Dom asked, proving he hadn't told the others about the Fearless Finnegans. Not that it mattered. Cade and Lucien could break into Fort Knox if they could get away with it.

Lex tuned them out and disappeared inside the nearest bathroom. He stared at his reflection and cursed. He looked like shit. Was it always going to be like this? Breaking out in a cold sweat every time he thought Jillian was in danger? He couldn't wrap her in bubble wrap to keep her safe. He'd love to though. He splashed his face with cold water. At least she wasn't performing in that circus anymore.

When he rejoined them in the media room, the others got up and congratulated him. "Always knew you'd get hitched first," Sloan said.

Lex chuckled. "Why?"

"Your family is big on producing the next generation of Fitzgeralds, which brings us to your future wife. What happened to her?" Cade asked.

"Yeah, we were looking forward to welcoming her to the group," Rod chimed in. "And wiping the smirk from Dom's face."

"We wouldn't have resorted to researching her if he'd just told us what we wanted to know," Sloan said. Dom leaned against his chair and shrugged, but the gleam in his eyes said he was enjoying their annoyance.

Lex wanted to ignore them, but they'd only continue to push his buttons. "What do you want to know?"

"Does she have a sister?" Lucien asked.

"Is she hot?" Rod asked.

Lex shot Rod a look that could have shriveled a lesser man. "If you ever mention hot and Jillian in the same sentence, I will kick your ass. You already owe her an apology."

Rod grinned. "I'll send her a nice gift."

"Something appropriate, you knob head," Aiden warned.

"American insults, Aiden," Lucien said and kicked the Englishman's foot. "They have more impact. Is Jillian still with the Bay Area Circus?"

Lex shuddered. He hoped not. "Feel free to ask her when you meet. Hopefully before the wedding."

Silence followed, their expressions sobered as though it finally dawned on them that one of them was getting married. Cade had an aversion to dating, so he slept with women with questionable morals. Rod dated several at the same time and somehow managed to keep all of them happy. Lucien fell in and out of love so often they were convinced he'd bite the bullet first and settle down. Sloan nearly got engaged a few years ago, but things had turned sour and he hadn't dated in over a year. Aiden had a steady girlfriend, who hated the idea of settling down. Rake was monogamous, but presently between relationships, while Dom went through two phases—when he went through women like he had something to prove and when he shunned them.

"When is the wedding?" Sloan asked.

"In a couple of weeks. You'll get the invitation. Maybe," Lex added.

"You're kidding. We _are_ going to be your best men." Rod glanced at the others. "I know I'd want all of you to stand by me if I ever met a woman worth giving up my freedom and lifestyle." He shuddered.

Lex hadn't thought of asking them. He had brothers and cousins who would stand by his side when he wed Jillian. These guys didn't. "Do you want to?"

"Yes," was their collective response.

"Fine." Lex shifted his attention to the images on the screen. Rake, who'd been quiet since Lex arrived, had done his thing—used his satellites to find hot zones, images of a people dying of a viral hemorrhagic fever. Since the government in question had openly denied there was an outbreak, it was time for _Infitinus_ to get involved.

"What organization are we using this time?" Lex asked.

CHAPTER 18

The sun was dipping over the horizon when Lex arrived home. His feet were light as he took two steps at a time. Jillian was in his house. Not for the night. Not forever as he would like, but it was a start. It didn't matter that her reasons had to do with her safety.

He opened the back door and followed the sounds to the kitchen, expecting to find Douglas preparing dinner. His culinary skills were nowhere near his other skills, but that was okay for tonight.

Lex stopped in the doorway connecting the kitchen and the living room, his heart swelling with emotions he didn't bother to analyze. Jillian stood by the stove, stirring something and humming. She'd changed into jeggings and a baggy sweater that hinted at her lush curves. She sounded happy, which was amazing considering what had happened this evening. Everything about her pleased him. Her scent. Her smile. The way she tilted her head to the side and stared into his eyes as though every word he spoke was important.

He closed the gap between them, slipped his arms around her waist, and pulled her against him. She turned her head sideways and smiled. "Back already?"

He rubbed his cheek against hers. "I couldn't keep away. What are you cooking?"

"Beef stew. I promised Douglas I'd keep an eye on it while he went to the store to pick up a few things. I didn't know you could fly the helicopter."

"Only when I visit Sloan's island. It can only be accessed by plane or boat." He nuzzled her neck and inhaled.

"Sloan owns an island?"

He didn't want to talk. He pressed against her, knowing she could probably feel his erection. "He's a recluse."

She lowered the heat, covered the stew, took his hand, and led him to the dining room table. "We can't leave the kitchen until Douglas returns," she said. She nudged him onto a chair, sat on his lap, and interlaced their hands. "Tell me about your friends. What do they do? Are they all like you?"

He kissed her knuckles. "No one is like me, sweetheart."

She chuckled. "True. You are exceptionally gifted." She wiggled to prove her point, or torture him, and laughed when he groaned. "Start with Dom. He has the you-mess-with-me-and-I'll-hurt-you attitude, but he has a gentle soul."

Lex laughed. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone describe him like that."

"It's in his eyes. How long have you known him?"

"Since freshman year when he passed out on the floor of our dorm room. Sloan's family has known him since high school. He was their pool boy."

"That might explain the tension between him and Deidre," Jillian said.

She caressed his chin. He'd noticed she liked to run her finger along his chin. "Why would their past explain Deidre and Dom's relationship?"

"The boy became a man. Not just any man. A gorgeous, virile man. Deidre must be having a hard time with that."

"Is he?" he asked, not liking the way she'd described Dom.

"Is he what?"

He felt foolish, but he couldn't help himself. "Dom. Do you find him gorgeous and virile?"

Jillian chuckled and cupped his face. "Silly man. No man is like you. You said so yourself." She kissed him.

He took over, crushing her to him. He angled his head for deeper contact, one hand sliding under her shirt to caress her stomach. A tremor shook her body. She pulled him closer. Her uninhibited response never failed to please him. His hands inched higher and found her breast. Her nipples had tightened, and she gasped when he grazed one, the lace material covering them offering no barrier.

He trailed kisses to her neck, needing her so badly it hurt. He undid the first few buttons, giving himself access to her chest and her perfect breasts. She murmured something, but didn't pull away as he took one nipple into his mouth, lace and all. She moaned and cradled his head. His hand moved lower and slipped under her waistband.

She tore her lips from his. "Crap. The stew."

Lex groaned when she jumped up and left his lap. Damn it. Her duties didn't include cooking. He might like the domestic picture she made, but he didn't want her slaving over the stove. They could hire a decent cook. He got up and followed her.

"No, stay back, Alexander. You can't be in the kitchen when I'm cooking."

"You're not supposed to be cooking."

"I'm helping Douglas, and you are hereby kicked out of the kitchen."

He grinned. He distracted her. Still, he asked, "Why?"

"You know why." She looked beyond him, and she groaned. "Oh no. Douglas. This is so embarrassing."

Lex turned, expecting to see Douglas. Instead grocery bags were on the floor by the archway leading into the kitchen. Douglas must have returned while they were kissing and decided to give them privacy.

"I'm never going to look him in the face again," Jillian wailed. "And it's your fault." She shook a spoon at Lex. He grinned. "It's not funny. Go find him and... and apologize."

He wasn't apologizing for kissing her. "Jillian—"

"Ask him to join us for dinner. Please."

She looked so adorable flustered, even though it was over nothing. Douglas was a grown man who understood the nature of their relationship. And it wasn't the first time he'd walked in on Lex and a woman, except Jillian wasn't just any woman.

"Lex," Jillian begged.

He couldn't refuse her anything when she looked at him with those gorgeous turquoise eyes. He got up. "He'll understand."

She glared at him. "I don't. I should have stopped things before they went too far." She shooed him. "Go talk to him."

Lex was still grinning when he knocked on Douglas's door. He liked that he had that much power over her. Just like she had over him.

"Jillian would like you to join us for dinner," Lex said when Douglas opened the door.

"Thank you, sir, but I already have my dinner." Douglas indicated behind him. Lex wondered if he really had bought food or just wanted to give them privacy.

"Jillian will be disappointed," Lex said.

Douglas didn't crack a smile. "Offer her my apologies, sir."

"I'll do that. Goodnight, Douglas."

"Will you need me to cook breakfast tomorrow morning, sir?"

"That would be great. I want you to stay with her until this situation with her father is fixed. Mathews will fly the two of you to the studio. I'll have a talk with Barbs about your presence there."

"Can I contact Mr. Manos to find you another driver?"

Lex thought about it and shook his head. "I'll be in the office the next few days. If I need to go anywhere, I'm sure I can manage. Keeping her safe is a priority now."

Back upstairs, the scent of garlic bread filled the air. Jillian had already set the table for three, laid out a fruit and vegetable tray, and was serving the stew into bowls.

"Is he coming?" she asked.

"No. He'd already prepared his dinner."

Jillian frowned. "Are you sure? Were you polite and nice and genuine?"

"Very." Lex closed the gap between them and carried two bowls back to the table. He patted the chair beside him. "Come sit here."

She shook her head and took the seat across from him. "I'm not going to fall for that trick. We're eating, not kissing or doing whatever naughty things those eyes are promising."

"My eyes?"

"Very expressive." She picked up the spoon. "I don't know how you conduct business. I know when you want to kiss me or"—she grinned—"rip my clothes off."

Dinner was fun. He focused the discussion on his friends, what they did and how they met in college and forged a relationship that had endured for years. He didn't bring up her family, the Fearless Finnegans, or the Bay Area Circus, though he needed to find out more. The mood was too perfect to spoil it with morbid discussions. Still, he noticed that she didn't touch her wine. "I have other vintages if this is not to your taste."

"That's not it. I don't drink much. A sip here and there at parties, but that's it."

"Why?"

"Low tolerance. One glass and I'll start dancing topless, or worse."

He laughed, imagining her dancing around the room, stripping. "I don't mind." Then it occurred to him that she might be talking from experience. Someone else shared that memory with her. He stopped smiling. "What could be worse than going topless?"

She ducked her head and shook it. "So you and your friends are terribly wealthy, party hard, and...?"

He wasn't ready to share _Infinitus Agendum_ with her yet. "We go on wild adventures. I've skied K2." Her jaw dropped. She scooted closer when he talked about diving the Blue Holes in the Bahamas and swimming with great white sharks in South Africa.

"Can I come with you next time? Please?"

Lex groaned. He should have known better than to mention extreme adventure to her. The stunts she'd pulled as a teen flashed in his head. "Girlfriends are never allowed. Too dangerous."

Jillian gave an unladylike snort. "What do you guys date? Pearl-wearing debutants?"

His ex-girlfriend had loved pearls, and she never wanted to know where he disappeared to with his friends. "I'm not sure where our next trip will take us, so we'll see. Maybe we'll kayak in the Bashkaus River again or Vanuatu."

Jillian's eyes narrowed. "Siberia _and_ Marum Volcano in South Pacific? Now you're just bragging."

He loved that she understood him. "Dom is making us heatproof suits. We might beat Mackley's record."

"I hate you." She got up.

"Leave them," he said when she picked up the bowls. "Douglas can take care of them tomorrow."

"You don't leave dirty dishes on the table, Alexander."

"Says who?"

"My mother. She was stickler for rules. Didn't matter where we lived. The rules were the same. Then there's the leftover stew. Leftovers must be put away." She cocked her eyebrows.

"Woman, you drive me crazy." He took the bowls from her hands. He imagined her and her mother living in some murky backroom. He'd build her a mansion in every goddamn town his company had a holding. "I'll do it."

She grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. You need to learn to take care of yourself."

"If you must know, I took care of myself in college."

"Yeah, in a frat house. Didn't you have someone cooking and cleaning for you?"

"Nope. We did it all." He carried the plates and placed them in the sink. "When do you need to be at the studio tomorrow?"

"Ten." She tucked hair behind her ear, a gesture he now associated with nervousness. "I'll, uh, finish putting my clothes away." She looked at her watch and frowned. "Wow. It's only eight."

He wasn't sure why she was acting nervous all of a sudden. "We'll find something to do to pass time," Lex said and winked, grinning when her cheeks grew pink.

"How about chess. I'd like to beat you fair and square instead of you letting me win." She gave him another tiny smile and left the room.

There were far more fun games they could indulge in, and they didn't include a board or small wooden pieces. Maybe moving into his home had changed the dynamics of their relationship. It was up to him to make sure she was comfortable. She wanted board games? They would play board games. As long as he got to sleep with her in his arms.

Lex dumped everything in the garbage disposal. He had no bowls for leftovers or any intention to reheat the beef stew tomorrow. He placed the utensils in the sink. Turning off the lights, he stopped by the living room, grabbed his handcrafted wood and leather case of chessboard and pieces, and headed for his bedroom.

_Their_ bedroom.

Jillian wasn't there. Her suitcases and the shopping bags he and Douglas had hauled upstairs were missing. Panic slammed into him. He threw the chess set on the bed, left the room, and once again followed sounds to the only guestroom in the penthouse.

The empty suitcases and shopping bags littered the bed. Shoes and boots were on the floor. Sounds came from the walk-in closet.

He knocked and entered.

~*~

Jillian had dreaded this—Lex finding out she'd chosen to use the guest room despite his invitation to put her clothes in his closet. Yes, she'd been tempted to play house. Have his and her sides of the closet. Even his bathroom had two sinks. And yes, she enjoyed sex with him. Who wouldn't? He was an amazing, generous, and innovative lover.

Lex didn't do small. He probably didn't know how. He was larger than life. The ultimate alpha male. The problem was she wasn't ready to let him take over every aspect of her life.

He knocked again. "Are you hiding in there?"

She was. He wasn't going to like her decision.

Jillian got up and left the closet. He stood by the door, hands shoved in the front pockets of his pants, drawing attention to his gorgeous body. He chuckled, and her eyes flew to his. Jillian could feel her face grow red. His ability to make her blush was getting old.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping into the room.

"Unpacking. I think this bedroom is perfect for me." She picked up the shopping bags and shoved the smaller ones inside the largest. "I'll be out of your hair in a couple of days."

He moved closer and stopped in front of her. Gently, he pried the bags from her hand and put them down, then lifted her chin. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

He ran his thumb across her lips. "You're pushing me away."

She couldn't concentrate with him caressing her. She moved her head, forcing him to stop. "I'm not, Lex. We're not married yet, so Douglas won't be surprised to see me use the guest room."

"I don't care what Douglas thinks," Lex said. "And you are wrong on both accounts. First, there's a more perfect bedroom down the hall. Second, you're never going to be out of my hair, because every time I close my eyes and inhale, it's you I breathe. Your scent. Your essence. When all is quiet, it's your voice I hear. Your laughter when you're happy. Your moans when we kiss. Your cries when you fall apart in my arms. And when you're gone I feel the imprint you leave in my arms."

Jillian stared at him with rounded eyes, her heart pounding hard. Surely, he didn't mean he loved her? "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I love what we have going on here, Jillian. The sex is great, and we have a lot in common outside the bedroom. We should explore these feelings without the bullshit."

Wow. Not exactly the declaration of love she'd expected. "The bullshit?"

"Not being on the same page." He ran his knuckles down the side of her face. "Which will make both of us miserable. We are going to live in this house as husband and wife, so let's agree to give us a chance."

_What happens if it doesn't work out?_ Right now she was enjoying their time together while guarding her heart. Or trying to. If she let him in, would she survive? Love sucked when it was one-sided.

"I don't know what to say," she said.

He cupped her face and stared into her eyes. "Then don't say anything. Go with the flow. So..."

"Yes?"

"Pack up your clothes and move into my room."

Her jaw dropped. "So this is about me sleeping in here?"

"No, it's about you sleeping where you belong. With me."

Un-fucking-believable. "Goodnight, Lex." She turned to walk away. The next second she screamed when he plucked her up and slung her over his shoulder. "What are you doing? Put me down, you Neanderthal." She kicked and wiggled and punched him.

"It's impossible to have a conversation with you. One second I think I'm getting through to you... Ouch. Pinch my ass again and we won't play strip chess," he warned.

"I don't want to play chess." He entered his bedroom and threw her onto the bed. Jillian bounced on it, legs and arms flailing. "Strip chess?"

"We'll make the rules as we go." He picked up the box and watched her lazily.

She stared back at him, studying the masculine angles of his face. He was such a beautiful man. Her heart squeezed. Would she ever get tired of looking at him? Wanting him? Needing...? No, she didn't need him. She didn't need any man.

But she wanted him naked and sweaty. Loving her. Making her forget her problems. "I don't want to play chess." She moved her leg and nudged him with her foot. "I want you."

Lex cocked an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "Yes. Now."

"Then show me," he challenged, his voice dark and smooth as velvet.

"Show you?"

He leaned in and kissed her. He tasted of wine and his unique blend of flavors. "Remove your clothes."

Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. This was what she wanted. Why was she hesitating? Their eyes met, and the look in his took her breath away. Standing, she pushed her thumb in the waistband of her jeggings.

"No," Lex ordered, and she stopped.

Thoroughly confused now, Jillian sighed. "What do you want, Lex?"

"You."

He scooted to the edge of the bed, gripped her shirt, and tugged her closer until she stood between his legs. He studied her, his gray eyes flashing with so much heat her breath caught.

"Remember how I always complain about never getting to undress you?" He undid her buttons one at a time, kissing the exposed skin. "I get to do it tonight."

A shudder rocked Jillian. He was doing it again. Killing her with his gentleness when she wanted mindless sex. She wanted him to devour her and give her the release she sought.

She tried to take over. "Lex—"

"Shh. This is me unwrapping you, savoring you, loving you, and I refuse to be hurried." He removed the last two buttons and parted her shirt. His breath was hot on her skin as he buried his face in her stomach and dipped his tongue inside her belly button.

He stood and pushed her shirt off, kissing her shoulder. His teeth nipped her skin, followed by the warm stroke of his tongue soothing the bite. His lips trailed down her arm as he removed one sleeve. Then he moved to the other arm, until her shirt fell in a heap at her feet. It was a slow torture, but she soaked it in greedily.

Lust spiked, nipples aching for his touch as heat pooled between her legs. For once in her life, she was enthralled by the pleasure of a simple kiss. Not that anyone would call what Lex was doing to her a kiss.

"The way I feel when I touch you is like nothing I've ever felt before," he whispered, warm breath fanning her neck. "The taste of you." He tilted her head and captured her mouth in a hot, bone-searing kiss that was both languid and commanding.

He made love to her mouth, tasting every inch of it. Outer lips to inner recesses, tongues caressing, dancing side by side, on top of each other. Blissful sensations rocked her body. All Jillian could do was cling to his shirt and weather the storm. When he lifted his head, she whimpered in protest.

"I'm just starting, sweetheart." He captured her mouth again, and she was lost in his kiss, the taste and scent of him. "The things I plan to do to you tonight."

Call her greedy, but she wanted it all. She pulled his head down and kissed him this time. Pouring all her yearnings, even those she refused to admit to herself into the kiss.

"Tell me," she murmured against his lips. His eyes blazed with more desire that she'd ever seen on anyone's face, thrilling her.

"I'll show you," he vowed.

"Yes," she whispered.

He reached behind her, unclasped her bra and sat as he took it off. He studied her lushness. "So breathtaking. Every time I touch you, it's like the first time. You are... mine."

She was. For now. "Love me, Lex. Please."

The words barely left her lips when he cupped her breasts in his large hands, leaned forward, and took one sensitive peak into his mouth. At the same time, he rolled the other one between his thumb and fingers.

Jillian's knees gave away. She would have crumpled onto the floor if she hadn't clutched his head. He moved from nipple to nipple, driving her insane as sweet sensations rolled through her.

"I need more," he murmured as he lifted his head. He hooked his fingers under her waistband and peeled her jeggings off her hips, then lifted her and gently laid her on the bed. A few minutes ago, he'd thrown her on the same bed. The change in behavior was messing with her head big time. He knelt by her legs, his eyes burning with heat as he studied her.

Jillian stopped breathing, a weird vulnerability washing over her. She loved her body. Worked hard to stay in shape because of her line of work, but for whatever reason, she felt exposed. She wanted him to love what he was seeing. To desire her above all.

His eyes flicked to her face. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

Jillian swallowed.

"What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Perfection. You were made for love, Jillian. To be worshipped. And I..." He ran a finger from her toes to her ankle, leaving behind a heated trail. Her muscles clenched. She never even knew her toes were sensitive. "I am lucky to be the one you've bestowed this honor upon."

He lowered his head and started on her toes, kissing, caressing, worshipping every inch of her body just like he'd promised, while she squirmed and moaned. He took cues from her cries, heightening her pleasure with his mouth, teeth, and hands.

"The scent of you can drive a man insane," he whispered as he kissed her inner thighs. Jillian trembled. She wanted his mouth on her.

"Please," she begged, lifting her hips and pressing against him, but he refused to indulge her. She grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled, needing to feel his skin against hers. He lifted his head long enough to let her yank it off, then went back to tormenting her.

By the time he laved her nipples with his tongue, sucking hard on the buds, nipping with his teeth and soothing with his tongue, she was ready to explode. No man had ever worshipped her like this. Part of her was scared of what he was doing to her while another part reveled in it. She writhed and bucked, needing him inside her. She didn't care whether it was his mouth, his fingers, or his throbbing cock. She was close to coming.

As if he knew it, he took her hand from its death-like grip on his head and lowered it, directing it between her labia and the swollen nub. "Pleasure yourself."

"No," she protested.

"Yes. Do it. For me." He took her other hand and placed it on her breast.

Jillian couldn't disobey the command given in a husky, tortured voice as though it pained him to leave her. She closed her eyes and imagined him inside her as she stroked herself.

"Don't close your eyes," Lex ordered. "Look at me." Her eyelids lifted, and she watched him watch her. It was the most erotic moment in her life. Eyes not leaving hers, he stood and unbuckled his belt. "Imagine me inside you, savoring your heat, the feel of your muscles tightening and hugging me."

Listening to his husky voice as he talked dirty, seeing his gaze drift to her hand while he stroked himself was too much for her. Her senses exploded as an orgasm swept over her. Then he was there, replacing her fingers with his mouth, drawing the throbbing nub into his mouth and heightening the pleasure. The heat of his tongue pushed her higher, and Jillian cried out.

She was still trembling when he entered her. He hissed as though scalded and captured her mouth in a searing kiss as he started to move. Jillian was suspended in a plane where nothing else mattered but Lex. The two of them in this perfect moment. His mouth devouring hers. The feelings as he claimed her. Each stroke sending delicious sensations through her. He knew exactly what she loved and gave it to her.

Her body shattered from the center outward again, the intensity stronger than the first one. Jillian clawed at him, wanting to absorb him and never let go. He didn't slow down, his movements relentless, his kisses tugging at her soul.

She tore her mouth from his. "What are you doing to me?"

"Loving you." He rolled them over so she was on top and whispered in a voice she didn't recognize, "Love me."

She wasn't sure whether he meant love him physically or with her heart. It didn't matter because she did. She couldn't deny it anymore. She heard the plea in his voice and responded by tightening her inner muscles and rocking against him. "I do."

Maybe it was his admission or the way she loved him, but he lost it. He pulled her down and captured her mouth in a kiss that drove all thoughts from her mind, while at the same time matching her movements. When that wasn't enough, she pried his hands from her waist, got off him, and went on her knees.

She knew what drove him crazy, too. Glancing at him over her shoulder, she whispered, "Love me."

She didn't believe his eyes could grow any hotter. His eyes left her face and moved down to the slick skin between her legs.

A muscle jumped on his jaw as he growled, "I intend to." He ran his hand up her thigh in reverence as he shifted and knelt behind her. He leaned forward, raining kisses on her back. "You are my fantasy, Jillian."

Jillian arched her back as he pressed against her and rubbed the rigid length of his erection along her labia, but he wasn't in a hurry to resume things. He cupped her breasts, played with her nipples.

"Do you know what you do to me when you offer yourself to me like this? Look at me with utter trust?"

"No," she whispered, her entire body poised for another invasion of her senses.

He hands left her nipples and stroked her sides and her stomach while his hot mouth left a heated trail as he made his way to her waist. "You unman me, yet I'm the luckiest son of a bitch that ever lived."

He took a sharp nip of her ass, and Jillian cried out, her body shuddering.

"You trust me, don't you, Jillian?"

His warm breath hit her right between her legs, and the thrill of anticipation shot through her. "Yes."

He swept his tongue across her swollen clitoris. Jillian gripped the pillow and bit hard on her lower lip to stop herself from moaning.

"You know I would never hurt you."

"I know."

More tongue lashes. A little suction. More teasing. This time, Jillian couldn't help moaning.

"And I promise you here and now that I would never hurt you or break that trust."

"I can't take anymore," she whispered.

"Yes, you can." He blew on her heated flesh, making Jillian's body hum.

"But it's your turn," she said.

He chuckled just as his mouth closed on her, and the effect was amazing. Jillian rocked into his mouth, her chest burning until she realized she'd forgotten to breathe. She gulped. Panted. Cried as another wave sucked her under.

"There are no turns when it comes to us, sweetheart," Lex said when he let her go. He turned her around and laid her on her back. Her legs so weak she doubted she'd ever stand again. "As much as I love that position, I'd rather look into your eyes when we come."

That was the sweetest thing he'd ever said. Tears rushed into Jillian's eyes as Lex shifted and entered her slowly. "I'm not going to survive this."

"Yes, you are," he said, making her realize she'd spoken her words out loud. "Because I plan to make love to you just like this every night for as long as you let me."

Every night sounded perfect. As for letting him, she never had a choice the moment she'd looked out her trailer window and saw him dismount his bike. Had she known she'd be the luckiest woman on earth, she would have agreed to that first date on the spot.

Thoughts of the past or future ceased to matter as he started to move. Her hips moved along on their own accord, her body in perfect tune with his. Working together, chasing ecstasy. Skin whispering to skin. Each breath shallow like it was the last one. Each kiss searing and affirming.

As she bucked and writhed, her legs wrapped around his waist, he gripped her hands and looked into her eyes. She was sure he saw her soul just like she saw his. How else could she explain the vulnerability she glimpsed in his eyes as he thrust into her?

Sweat gleamed on his body, his eyes so dilated with arousal they looked more blue than gray. He arched into her, his neck corded with tension.

"Together, Jillian. Now."

As though he had control over her body and could command it at will, her muscles clenched around him as ecstasy catapulted her over the edge. He joined her, capturing her mouth and swallowing her cries.

CHAPTER 19

Lex pulled the covers over their nude bodies and hugged Jillian. She wrapped her arms around him, one leg straddling his thigh. He was getting used to this—her body curled around his. He'd hated seeing her hug a pillow as though seeking comfort from it and to ease her pain. Pain inflicted by those supposed to love and cherish her.

He hated thinking about her family. It was the one problem he wished would go away. He wanted her happy and free from people who made her cry in her sleep. But he knew one couldn't run away from family or obligations. Yes, he enjoyed what he did, creating beautiful buildings out of the basics. But being the head of his family involved more than doing what he loved. His uncles had all followed their dreams, leaving the job of watching over the Fitzgerald holdings to him.

He tried to take a break, but the responsibilities and expectations always yanked him back like an elastic noose around his neck. The occasional trips with his friends gave him a moment to blow off steam and clear his head before coming home and picking up right where he'd left off.

But with Jillian, he had a chance to have someone to share his misgivings and frustrations, his laughter and tears, and the occasional urge to let go. He might not be ready to bear his soul to her, but he knew that when he did, she would understand. Just like him, she was an anchor for her family. Now all he had to do was keep working on gaining her trust. She was halfway there. She'd admitted to trusting him during sex.

He pressed a kiss on her temple and teased, "Still want to sleep in the guest room?"

"That depends?"

He heard the smile in her voice. "On?"

"Whether you plan on hauling me back in here like a Neanderthal or respect my wishes and leave me alone like any gentleman would?" she murmured, burrowing under his chin.

Lex laughed. He loved that she enjoyed baiting him. Hadn't he just given her multiple orgasms? Most women would be eager to please him. Treat him like the center of their universe. Not Jillian. Man, she pleased him.

"Screw your wishes," he said. "You belong in here with me." He lifted her leg so she was practically draped over him, the back of her knee cradling his growing erection. "And I've never claimed to be a gentleman."

She chuckled and became quiet. After a few minutes, she shifted. Seconds later, she changed the position of her head. She was restless.

"What is it?"

A sigh, then, "I'm just thinking about my family."

About time. He'd been dying to bring up the topic of her father but had worried she'd shut him out. "What about your family?"

"I told Ricky to take the money to the Armenians." She didn't sound so confident.

"Are you worried he won't do it?"

"He'll want to."

Silence followed. Worried that she didn't want to talk anymore, he turned on the headboard light. When she continued to stay silent, he lifted her chin and studied her face. She was worried.

"But?"

"My father won't let him. He and Cian, even Uncle Rowan, never stand up to Dad."

"Even if your life is in danger?"

Her lips pinched, eyebrows slanting down. He stroked her cheek until her face relaxed. "I don't know if they'll see it that way." She placed her elbow on the bed and rested her chin on the heel of that hand, then started to draw squiggles on his chest with her other hand. His muscles trembled, but he doubted that she even noticed. Her hand paused for a moment as she threw him a glance. "You see, Dad is their boss."

It was a no-brainer what would be important if he were given that choice. Money wasn't everything.

"The members of my father's family have always been public entertainers," Jillian continued. "We have these old sepia and black and white pictures of his father and grandfather walking on tight ropes. When his father died, Dad changed things a bit and brought in bikes. He and Uncle Rowan became The Finnegan Duo. Then they had kids. All boys. My brothers and cousins started training when they were kids. They started performing with Dad and Uncle Rowan at age ten. The Finnegan Duo became The Fearless Finnegans. Before my mother married my father, they partnered with the Bay Area Circus and became the main attraction." A smile tugged at her lips. "When we arrived in L.A., Mom took me to their performances every time they were in town. They were amazing. If you'd seen my father before his heart attack, he was magnificent on stage."

Her eyes lit up as she talked. Now Lex understood where she'd fallen in love with stunts and why, according to Cade, she'd started performing when she hit puberty. Her father started them young. Too young in Lex's opinion.

"Mom fell in love with him, and within three months they were married. She became his sidekick when he rode his bike on the wire. They were spectacular together, and the crowd loved them. I knew then that I wanted to be just like Mom when I grew up."

The light in her eyes dimmed and Lex knew the next part was going to be sad, but all she said was, "Mom was a gymnast and a dancer. When we were on the road, she didn't just teach me school stuff. She always found a local gym and volunteered while I got free lessons, until they hired her. She was well traveled and would talk about dancing with a troupe. I think before she had me, she must have been a professional dancer." She dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, after she married my father, she insisted I take more dance and gymnastics lessons if I wanted to join the troupe. Chris worked as Dad's assistant, coordinating stunts and training all the performers. He started working with me." She smiled as though remembering. "He was so gentle. I drove him crazy because I wanted so badly to be in the show. But he wouldn't let me. He kept saying I wasn't ready. Dad had to step in. I rode the Wall at twelve."

Lex tried to imagine one of his nieces doing a stunt like that and felt a little sick.

"But my debut performance was The Globe of Death. We performed on weekends and in the summer. At first, Mom was scared for me, but my father saw something in me and nurtured it. Not with kind words." She laughed and threw him another glance. "Dad is not a gentle man. He doesn't believe in coddling. He used to say that coddling led to a false sense of security, which is suicide in stunt business. We always had to be aware that one mistake could lead to tragedy, and precision was the only thing standing between a painful death and us. He pushed, but even though he gave little praise, we could always tell when he was happy with our performance."

Lex kept seeing images from the video clip he'd watched at Sloan's. "Why did you leave?"

Jillian rubbed her eyes. "My mom died in a horrific accident, and for weeks I couldn't even get on a bike." She went quiet again. "Chris got me back on the bike, but he was never the same after Mom died. He finally left." She shook her head. "With Mom and Chris gone, things were never the same. Not for me. But..." She sighed. "I was angry at everyone even though her death was ruled an accident. I acted out. Did crazy stunts on stage and even crazier things with my cousins. Dad told me that was it. I had to leave the troupe, go to college for some degree, and get a nice, safe job in some office."

Lex laughed at her tone. "Don't knock it. I happen to have an office job."

She rolled her eyes. "Right. You do what you love, Lex. I've seen some of your buildings, and they're amazing."

"Thank you."

"Can you imagine me in a nine-to-five job? I would have died of boredom. Luckily, Chris found out and offered me a position in his company."

"And the rest is history," Lex said. Thank goodness she'd left the circus craziness behind. At least in Hollywood, the studios knew better than to cut corners. A dead stuntwoman or man would cost the studio. Smaller circuses like the Bay Area Circus didn't have that kind of cash.

"I hate Hollywood," Jillian said, cutting into his thoughts. "I only tolerate it because I know that someday I'll rejoin my family."

Jillian's words blasted Lex like a hail of stones. He sat up, forcing her to slide off his chest and sit up, too. The blanket rolled to her waist, and if his mind weren't processing what she'd just said, he would have appreciated the glorious image she made. Instead, he imagined her handstands on a fucking bike on a wire.

Hell! He'd celebrated prematurely.

"You plan to rejoin your family?" he asked.

She nodded, dragging the covers and tucking it under her arms. "Hollywood is just not for me. I tried to like it, but I'd rather be with my family." She rubbed her eyes. "At least, that _was_ the plan. A talk with my father. Then roll out the carpet as the prodigal daughter returned." Her chin trembled.

Lex pushed aside his frustrations. He would share her with her crazy family if it meant wiping that look from her face. He moved closer and took her hands in his. He didn't speak, just waited.

She straightened her spine and lifted her chin to look him in the eye. Whatever she saw there must have reassured her because she smiled.

"I'd been waiting to talk to him about rejoining the troupe for a while, but I kept chickening out. My father is a very direct man. Once he makes a decision, there's no changing his mind. I was scared he'd say no. Then he had a heart attack."

The more she talked about what her father had said, the more Lex was convinced her father was trying to protect her. His words might have been cruel and cold-hearted, but very effective. Jillian had believed him.

"So now I'm not a... 'Finnegan,'" she said, making air quotes. "And only Finnegans perform in my father's troupe."

"You _are_ a Finnegan," Lex said.

She rolled her eyes. "Just because you say so doesn't make it true." She pushed him back, curled up beside him, and pulled the covers over them. "Let's go to sleep. I have stunts tomorrow. Don't want to blow it now that I'm stuck in Hollywood."

The urge to allow her to continue believing that surged. He could ensure her continued safety in Hollywood and have a peace of mind. Even as the thoughts crossed him mind, he knew he couldn't do that to her. This wasn't about him. It was about her. Performing with her family made her happy.

Lex lifted her until they were face-to-face. "I'm serious, Jill. Your father said what he did to protect you from the people he owed money."

"You don't know him, Lex. Dad never says anything he doesn't mean. And," she pinched Lex's nose, "Uncle Rowan said it was all true. No adoption means not a Finnegan." She kissed him, burrowed in his chest, and closed her eyes.

Lex listened to her breathing and reached a decision.

~*~

The next morning, Lex stood on the helipad and watched as Douglas climbed in after Jillian.

"I sent the intel you wanted to the Shared Files folder," Douglas said.

"Good." His eyes went to Jillian, who didn't look too thrilled that she now had his bodyguard. "Barbs is okay with Douglas being there as long as he blends in with the security guards."

Douglas shot an amused glance. "That won't be a problem, sir. But if you decide to leave the building, please remember the safety protocol in place."

Nothing ever escaped Douglas. "I'm not going anywhere without you, Douglas." His eyes met Jillian. "Be careful."

"I'm overturning an armored car today, nothing to worry about."

Lex's stomach clenched. His woman had a mean streak in her, something he usually didn't mind, but he wasn't in the mood. "Sheath your claws, tigress."

Regret flickered in her eyes. He wasn't surprised when she changed places with Douglas, grabbed Lex by his tie, and planted a hot one on his lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Show me later." He stepped back, closed the door, and watched them take off. Only then did he turn around and race up the stairs. He grabbed his tablet and phone on his way to the elevator. There were several missed calls from various members of his family, including his mother. Someone finally talked. Most likely his mother. The calls had started pouring in an hour ago, but he hadn't wanted an intrusion on what he hoped would be a morning ritual with Jillian.

Lex turned on the tablet, found the folder he shared with Douglas, and opened the most recent file before the elevator closed. Like the others, it didn't have a title, just a date and initial KP for Khosrov Petrosian.

As usual, Douglas had left nothing out. From where Petrosian was born to his marriage to how he came to America and settled in New York. His business was legit—producing cheap clothes by employing migrant workers. He paid his workers well. After a few years, his business practices changed. He was suspected of money laundering and trafficking, yet the Feds never found anything to indict him. Then his only son got killed and Petrosian and his wife went home to Armenia and never returned. He died recently.

His nephew, who was his right hand man, sold the business in New York and moved to L.A. He owned a loan shark business, completely legit, and several Hookah lounges named Petrosian in and around Los Angeles.

When it came to gathering information, Douglas was the best. His sister once asked Lex what Douglas did when he wasn't driving him around and Lex had said, "He keeps an eye on things."

He hadn't lied. The Secret Service could borrow pointers from Douglas. Douglas had an office in his apartment with a montage of screens showing every inch of the penthouse's exterior, the helipad, his offices, inside the elevator... _Fuck!_

Lex pulled out his phone and speed-dialed his number. "Are the cameras in the elevator active?"

"Yes, sir. The recordings are set to self delete every twelve hours unless I enter a code. There are no recordings in the archives right now."

In other words, he'd deleted yesterday's footage. "When I'm with Jillian, the cameras must be turned off," Lex said.

"Yes, sir," Douglas said, but his reluctance was obvious.

Somehow, Lex knew they wouldn't be. Douglas took his job seriously and was paid handsomely, just like Mathews. That was the flip side of employing ex-spies. At least he didn't have a camera inside the Phantom. Or did he? His phone vibrated again, warning him of an incoming call, but he ignored it.

The scene with Jillian in the car after she'd picked him from Van Nuys flashed through his head. He'd never asked Douglas to remove the surveillance system before because it was for his safety, but for Jillian's sake, they were going to make some sacrifices.

"How many cameras are inside the Phantom?" Lex asked after he slid behind the wheel.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"How many cameras, Douglas? The truth or I'll fire you."

"One in the front and another in the back, and three external ones facing front, back, and above. The feed goes to a server accessible only by the code known to you and me alone."

He knew the code. "Okay. Turn off the internal ones when I'm with Jillian." His phone vibrated again. "Contact me if anything is off." He terminated the call and connected to his assistant. "Good morning, Paula."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"I've rearranged your schedule, but I can't stonewall your family. Not when they all call at once." She sounded frazzled. "They're all saying you aren't returning their calls."

"I'll call them back when I'm done with my meeting." A meeting she hadn't scheduled. He could hear the gears turning in her head, but she knew when to ask questions and when to keep quiet. She probably assumed it was something that involved _Infinitus._ Other than Eddie, she was the only one who knew about the organizations.

"Call them soon, Lex. Your mother made contact with Calaveras."

Lex's phone buzzed. A quick glance showed his brother Chase's cocky grin. He ignored the call and gunned the engine. When he'd decided to contact Jillian's father, he'd seen it as the only alternative to fixing the misunderstanding between father and daughter. Now he wasn't so sure.

Maybe he should have gone to Petrosian instead. He understood money and business. Relationships got murky fast. On the other hand, Jillian had said her father was a straight shooter. Once they reached an understanding, the mess would be fixed and he could focus on his upcoming nuptials. There was the mandatory meeting with Father O'Malley, a wedding to plan...

His phone vibrated again and he pushed a button. "Let me guess, you couldn't resist telling Amy and now everyone wants to know about Jillian."

"I should be insulted by that comment," Eddie said.

"Does that mean you didn't tell her?"

"No, I didn't, and now she's not talking to me because I wasn't surprised when she told me about Jillian _after_ Kara called her."

Kara was his brother Baron's wife, which meant his mother was behind this. He should have known she wouldn't keep quiet for long. "Do I owe you an apology?"

"No, but you might want to bring her to the family brunch or dinner on Sunday. I tried telling Amy I haven't met Jillian yet, but she won't listen. I want my wife back, Lex."

"You want me to tell you how to woo her? I have a few pointers."

Eddie laughed. "I'm the married one here. You should be asking me for the fucking manual."

"I'll be married in two weeks, setting a new record, so screw your manual."

Silence followed then, "Two weeks? Damn, that's fast. Is she pregnant?"

He opened his mouth to say no, then shrugged. "None of your business. Can I talk to Amy?"

"Hell no. You'll only make things worse. I can handle Amy." He groaned and added, "I didn't mean that, sweetheart. Amy. Gotta go, Lex. Take care of this before things get worse."

The next call was to his mother, who was on her way to Vegas. "David sent his jet for me. I should have all the papers signed by the end of the week so I can be home for the family dinner."

"Thanks, Mom."

"It's nothing. The family wants to meet Jillian."

"Thanks a lot for that, too," he wanted to say, but reprimanding his mother was not his thing. "They will. Good luck with Calaveras."

"Don't need it, dear."

His mother was one scary woman. The next calls didn't go so smoothly. His siblings wanted answers he couldn't give them—when he met Jillian and why he was keeping her secret. It was as though they'd discussed him, because each and every one of them asked the same questions.

Lex was happy to terminate the last call. He pulled up outside Jillian's childhood home. During their last visit, kids were home from school. Today, the street appeared deserted. Parents were probably at work.

He stepped out of the car, buttoned his coat, and started for the front entrance. A few feet from the porch, the door opened and the muzzle of a gun preceded an old man.

"One more step and I'm blasting you to hell, you bastard," he said.

Lex froze. The man's pallor was grayish, and he looked ready to keel over any minute. "Mr. Daniel Finnegan?"

"Who are you?" He stepped closer, cocking the rifle, eyes darting to the Phantom before locking on Lex. "You don't look like Petrosian's thugs. His lawyer? You think I'd treat you any differently just because you're wearing a fancy suit and driving a fancy car?"

"I do _not_ work for Petrosian, Mr. Finnegan. I'm Jillian's..." What was he exactly? Boyfriend? Lover? Fiancé?

"Her what? You people disgust me. Mira died a long time ago, along with her child. They're both gone. Dead. Let them rest in peace. Take your stupid feud back to New York before I blow a hole through you." The nozzle jerked.

Lex tried to make sense of the old man's rambling. A feud between Petrosian and who? Who the hell were Mira and her daughter? "You don't understand, Mr. Finnegan. My name is—"

Finnegan aimed to the left and pulled the trigger, hitting the ground a few feet from Lex. Lex raised his hands and stepped back, his ear ringing. The old man was nuts.

"I'm leaving," Lex said.

"Good," Finnegan said. "You have no reason to fear dead people, but if you dirty my doorstep again, I'll make sure you meet them and your maker. Damn bluebloods."

Fear dead people. Bluebloods. Petrosian. New York. A feud. Lex made it to the car and gunned the engine. Tires squealed as the Phantom shot off, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Finnegan watched him with a smirk, his gun still trained on him. Future father-in-law from hell.

Lex didn't relax until he hit the highway. Who the hell were Mira and the daughter? Did he mean Jillian and her mother? Why would he tell someone both were dead? Because no one searched for dead people. Finnegan was trying to protect Jillian from both Petrosian and someone from New York. Why?

Lex glanced in the rearview mirror and spied a familiar black SUV. Petrosian's men, the same ones he and Douglas had humiliated outside Jillian's house. He stepped on the gas. They picked up speed and stayed with him, weaving in and out of traffic, too. Lex made a call to the one person who'd always had his back since college.

"You still in town?" he asked.

"Yep," Dom said. "I'm having a few meetings before heading home. What's up?"

"I want you to contact Douglas, pick up Jillian, and take her somewhere safe."

"Why? What's going on?"

Lex glanced behind them. The SUV had inched closer.

"Fitz!" Dom snarled. "What the fuck's going on?"

"I'm trusting you with the most precious person in my life, Dom. Do not let her contact her father. Do not let her anywhere near Petrosian. Get her to safety and wait until you hear from—"

The impact jerked Lex backward, the detonated airbag slamming into his chest. The car spun and veered to the right. He struggled to control the car and get it off the highway.

The attack hadn't come from the SUV behind him, but from the one he hadn't seen in front stopping suddenly. Petrosian and the bluebloods? To the onlookers, he'd hit the car in front of him.

Lex ducked as the one behind him hit the Phantom, completely pushing it off the road. The windows of the car shattered and glass rained on him.

His ears were still ringing when the car jerked to a stop. Someone yanked open the door. Before he could react, something hard connected with the back of his head and blackness sucked him under.

~*~

Jillian didn't get a chance to talk to Chris until after they were done with the first scene. She left the wardrobe and almost bumped into him. "Hey. Can I borrow your phone?"

He peered at her. "What happened to yours? I tried calling. Ricky and Cian tried. Finally, I called Fitzgerald."

"I dropped it in the water by accident. May I?" She took his phone, but he held on to it. "What?"

"What happened over the weekend? Did you talk to Fitzgerald about"—he glanced around and whispered—"your father?"

"Yes, and it didn't matter. I'll explain later." She called Ricky. The phone went unanswered. She tried Cian. No one picked up. Strange. She tried her uncle.

"What?" he snapped.

"Uncle Rowan, it's Jillian."

The connection was terminated. Jillian scowled. This was ridiculous. It was one thing for them to tell her not to visit, but to refuse to talk to her was just rude.

She redialed. It went unanswered. "Damn it, Uncle Rowan. I need to talk to someone." A few people walking past stared. She glared back. Then Chris' ringtone started, caller unknown. Jillian slowly brought it to her ear. "Yes?"

"We can't call you because they might be listening," Uncle Rowan whispered. "I had to borrow a friend's phone."

"Really, Uncle Rowan? _Who_ might be listening?"

"Petrosian's people," he said. "You shouldn't call us. They could trace the call and find you."

Her uncle could be so melodramatic sometimes. Petrosian's men were simple thugs, not computer savvy geeks with surveillance gadgets. "So Ricky didn't drop off the money?"

"No. You see—"

"Why not?" she yelled, frustration bubbling over. "Once Petrosian gets his money, this nightmare will be over."

"He doesn't want the money, Jillian," Uncle Rowan snapped. "He wants you, but we're not going to let that happen."

"Let's call the police."

"No. No police. They'll want to interview you, and we don't want you involved. Stay away until this blows over. Those are your father's orders." The line went dead.

That was the strangest conversation she'd ever had. Lex had been right about her father pushing her away to protect her. She studied the people scurrying around the set. Keith waved to her. Chris was discussing the next stunt sequence with one of the assistant directors. She wouldn't miss this place. Douglas, in the studio security uniform, moved freely around the set, but his eyes stayed on her. He blended until you looked into his eyes. They were sharp, cataloguing everything. He must have been one hell of a spy.

The smile disappeared from Jillian's face as some the things her uncle had said flitted through her head. Petrosian wanted her. Why? The conversation between Baldie and his partner flashed in her head, and Jillian groaned. Porn star.

"I'm not a porn star," she snarled.

"Who said you were?"

She looked up at Keith and grimaced. "A thug I'd like to torture for making my life a living hell. What's going on?"

His expression said he wasn't sure whether to take her seriously or not. "They just announced we're heading to Vancouver next week."

"When?"

"Sunday. Filming starts on Monday. Do you want to work on the next fight scene? I have time, and I plan on leaving early."

She'd like to leave early too and maybe pay Lex a visit in his office. In the meantime, she wanted to tell him about her conversation with her uncle.

"I need to make one phone call; then I'll join you," she said.

"Calling the _thug_ making your life difficult?"

"No. My, uh..." What exactly was Lex to her? Her boyfriend? He was too manly to be called _boy_. Her lover or the man she was quickly falling in love with?

"Your what?" Keith asked.

"My man." Jillian grinned. Yes, Lex was her man. Period. No more thinking about when she'd get tired of him. She was never getting tired of that man. In fact, she was looking forward to the year of being his wife.

Keith snapped his fingers under her nose. "Hey, starry eyes!"

Jillian leaned back, her cheeks warming. "I'll find you as soon as I'm done." But when Keith left, Jillian realized she had Chris' phone. Lex's phone numbers were on _her_ phone. Damn. The call would have to wait.

She followed Keith.

They were in the middle of sparring when she heard, "Sir. You can't be here. This is a closed set."

Jillian's first thought was Lex. She smiled and relaxed. If it were Lex, they'd roll out the red carpet. She faced Keith and resumed their rehearsal.

"I want to see her now!" a voice rang out.

Jillian recognized the deep commanding voice. She turned, forgetting that she was sparring with Keith. A punch landed on her chin, knocking her backward. She staggered, her hand going to her cheek.

A roar filled the set, and the next second Dom was lifting Keith by his shirt and two security guards were picking themselves up from the ground. The production manager, Barbs, and several security guards closed in fast.

"You like punching women?" Dom snarled, a hand poised to squash poor Keith.

"Dom, no!" Jillian yelled.

"Agent Manos!" Douglas barked at the same time.

CHAPTER 20

Dom glanced down at Jillian, then Douglas. "He hit her."

"We're doing stunts." _Men!_ She gripped his wrist and pulled it down. "Let him go."

He dropped Keith and grinned as he stared at Douglas. "Yes, sir."

Douglas glared. "Is that supposed to be funny, Manos?"

"You called me Agent Manos. Brought back memories of good times."

So Douglas was once Dom's superior. It didn't explain his presence on the set.

"You were to contact me when you got here," Douglas said. "Let's go."

"What's going on here?" Mr. Gunter, the production manager asked. "How did this man get inside the set?"

Barbs moved closer, but she didn't speak. Her flashing eyes said she wasn't amused. Her legendary temper was about to erupt.

"Excuse us," Jillian said, grabbing Dom's arm and tugging. He didn't move.

"Just a second." He went to Barbs and spoke briefly. Barbs glanced at Jillian and Douglas, and nodded. Then he was striding back to where Jillian and Douglas stood. "Let's go."

Jillian was confused. "Where?"

"Away from here. Lex wants me to take you to safety until he contacts us."

Douglas groaned. "You didn't have to tell her that."

"I just did," Dom said in a hard voice. He was no longer Agent Manos, Douglas' subordinate. "I'd rather she knows what's going on. Lex would want that."

Jillian's stomach dropped. "When did you talk to Lex? What's going on?"

"I don't know. He was cut short before he could explain." He took her arm and led her away from the others. "I'm supposed to take you somewhere safe until we hear from him."

"What do you mean he was cut short? When? Do you have his number? Can I talk to him? I lost my phone and can't call..." Her voice shook to a stop. "Where is he?"

"We'll find out once we get to the island."

But something in his eyes sent off an alarm in her head. "What are you _not_ telling me?"

His narrowed eyes swept the set before coming back to her. "Lex is in trouble and needs our help. Before he got cut off, there was a crash. If we want to find him, we need to go."

Jillian's heart had stopped before he'd finished the first sentence, blood draining from her head. Now it rushed back. She had so many questions, yet couldn't string words together. By the time she was ready to talk, they were in the helicopter. Dom spoke briefly with Douglas, then joined her. She was surprised when Douglas didn't join them.

She stared out the window without seeing anything, conscious of the deadly silence. Dom was calm, his presence reassuring. She focused on that instead of Lex and what he might be going through. After half an hour, or maybe it was forty-five minutes, all she saw was water.

The island appeared ahead. Three boats were anchored at the docks, and several helicopters were parked like cars in their circles. Mathews landed, and the three of them headed up a set of stairs. If she weren't worried about Lex, she would have appreciated the spectacular view and the house with private cabanas around the pool. Now she just gave them a sweeping glance.

She waited until she was alone with Dom before asking, "How are we going to find him?"

"This way," he said, led her down a hallway, and pushed open a door. Several male voices poured out. When he stepped aside, she noticed chairs and a giant screen.

"About time you got here, Dom," one of the occupants said, but Jillian's eyes were on the screen, where two SUVs were ramming into a familiar car.

No. She entered the room, her heart pounding. "That's Lex's Phantom."

The picture on the screen flickered and disappeared as the men in the room jumped to their feet. Two of them had laptops. Jillian couldn't remember who-was-who based on Deedee's descriptions and Lex's anecdotes, but that didn't matter. These powerful men were here to help find Lex.

"Jillian, the guys," Dom said. "Guys, Lex's Jillian. Rake, can you reconnect the feed? She needs to see what went down."

"Are you sure?" a guy with shaggy brown hair said. He looked a lot like Deedee. Same hair color and eyes, but the rest of his face was pure male. Border-line pretty.

Jillian's eyes met his. "Yes, Sloan. I want to see it."

Surprise flickered in his eyes.

They all offered her a seat. She took the nearest one, her attention on the blank screen, but she was aware of their eyes on her. The timing sucked, but today was about Lex, not her or meeting his friends.

When the screen stayed blank, she glanced at them. Two of the guys were furiously typing on their laptops while the other four studied her. She gave them a tiny smile and turned to find Dom. He'd taken the seat behind her.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"What's the hold up?" Dom asked, glancing at one of the guys with the laptop. "Rake?"

"Someone is fucking up my satellite connection," he snapped.

"Rake!" the others protested.

Rake shot Jillian a hard glance. "I'm sure she wants Fitzgerald found and doesn't care about my manners." He shot the other guy with a laptop a quick glance. "Cade, if you're messing with my satellites, get the fuck off."

"Didn't mess with your babies, Rake," the second guy shot back, rubbed his hands, and went back to typing. He had some serious tattoos visible on the side of his neck. "I've repositioned an _Echostar_ , _Anik_ , and _Ciel-two_. Damn, I'm good."

Was this one of the pissing contests Deedee had mentioned? No, that was between Lucien—whichever one that was—and Cade. Rake was the genius with personal satellites and a nicely trimmed goatee. His right arm was inked to his wrist. Jillian shot Dom another glance.

"He's moving around satellites to bounce signals," Dom explained.

"Then tuning to a transponder and decoding streaming contents," Cade added.

Jillian didn't understand a single word he'd just said. "Is that legal?"

Cade grinned. "No, baby girl, but I like to play with other people's toys. However, some of us just don't know how to share theirs." He threw Rake a glance.

"Screw you, Padwick. Found it," Rake said, and Jillian's eyes flew to the screen.

The footage showed two SUVs boxing Lex's Phantom in, smashing into it, and pushing it off the road. Two familiar men hopped out of the second SUV and dragged Lex into the first car. He seemed unconscious, and the Phantom was completely totaled.

"I know who has Lex," Jillian said slowly, trying to figure out why the section of the highway looked familiar. Lex had insisted he wasn't going anywhere.

The guys studied her curiously.

"An Armenian loan shark my father owes money," she explained, warmth crawling up her neck. She didn't give a rat's ass that all her family's secrets were out now. Finding Lex was more important. "Two of his men came to my house yesterday, but Lex and Douglas took care of them. They must have found out who he is." She didn't care about her uncle's warnings anymore either. They had to rescue Lex. "We have to call the police."

"No-ooo," the men said in unison.

Jillian frowned, surprised by their reaction. "Why not?"

"Lex's name cannot be associated with a loan shark," Dom said. "It's bad for business."

"His competitors could use it against him," a second chimed in.

"And the media would have a field day," a third added.

"Scandal sells papers, aye Rod?" This one had a British accent.

"Holy shit," Cade cut in. "Someone tried to kill him before the kidnapping." Different footage appeared on the screen. "I retraced his movements from the crash site."

Jillian's eyes widened at the familiar house. No wonder the road where the men had attacked Lex had seemed familiar. He had gone to see her father. Why? Oh God. She wanted to throw up as she watched the confrontation between them. What the hell was wrong with her father?

This was her fault. Jillian pressed her hand to her stomach to stop the ache. She should not have involved Lex in her problems. He had hired her to avoid a scandal. Instead, his association with her was doing the opposite.

Her stomach heaved and tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. _I will not fall apart. Not when Lex needs me._

First, she needed to get off this island. Then she'd find Lex and give Petrosian what he wanted—her. When this was over, she was walking away and leaving Lex's world. She'd brought him nothing but trouble. As for his friends, she didn't dare tell them that the man who'd shot at Lex was her father. It was too humiliating.

The buzzing noise in the background became clear, and she realized the men were discussing how to rescue Lex. Billionaire vigilantes? Were they nuts?

"I know where Petrosian's club in San Juan is located. I'll take you there."

"No," Dom said. "Lex said you shouldn't go there. We are to keep you safe. There's no place safer than this island."

Jillian shook her head. "I can't stay here and do nothing, Dom. I have to go to my father's, get the money, and take it to Petrosian. He will only deal with me."

"Screw him. Lex said you shouldn't go to your father's house either."

Yeah, because her idiot of a father shot at him. This was like an endless nightmare.

"Give us the address of this Armenian shithead, and we'll take it from there." Dom looked at the others. They nodded.

"How come he gets away with talking like that around her?" Rake snapped.

"Because he's less colorful today," Sloan said.

"I don't care. Curse all you want. Just don't leave me here, please," Jillian begged, her voice rising. She'd ditch them once they got off the island, but first she had to convince them to take her.

"How much does your father owe?" Sloan asked.

Heat flooded her cheeks. More humiliating details.

"Jillian?" Dom asked, his voice hard.

"Three hundred and fifty thousand," she said. She didn't want them accompanying her to her father's place. They'd know he'd shot at Lex. "But it's with my dad."

"And that's where it stays. Sloan, can you cover this?" Dom asked.

Sloan squinted as though calculating. "I have two-fifty around the house."

"I have about thirty in my yacht," the boyish-looking one said. He hadn't spoken since she'd arrived.

"Me too," Rake said.

"No, I have this covered, boys," the one who'd mentioned something about the media having a field day cut in. He got up and came to where Jillian stood. "I'm sorry for printing your pictures in my magazine."

Rod, the media mogul. "The pictures don't matter. Not anymore. Getting Lex does." She glanced around at the faces of the seven men. Lex's friends. All willing to put their lives in danger and possibly their reputations on the line for their friend, and it was her fault. She had to go with them whether they liked it or not. Time to get to work.

"I'm so sorry you've all been dragged into this." Her eyes locked with Rod's. "I promise to pay you back when this is over. Just..." Her voice trembled to a stop. She imagined Lex being held by the Armenians like a common criminal. The tears that filled her eyes and flowed down her face were real. "Don't leave me here, please. I'll go crazy worrying about Lex and what's going on. He's probably hurt and needs me. I'll stay in the car and wait. I promise not to get in your way."

~*~

Lex regained consciousness in a dingy room. He was gagged, his hands and feet bound together, and lying on his side on a rug that smelled like a rabid dog's pillow. One side of his face throbbed, probably from a cut, and his head pounded. He was sure he had a bump the size of an egg.

His abductors hadn't bothered to remove his jacket. Instead, they'd yanked it down and twisted it to further trap his arms. He rolled his eyes, taking inventory of his surroundings. There were no windows and from the crates and boxes, he'd say he was in a storage area. A faint light came through the edge of a door directly ahead.

A movement came from behind him, and survival instinct took over. He rolled and aimed a kick in the vicinity of where the sound came from, but someone grabbed his feet.

"It's me, sir," Douglas said. In seconds, he'd pulled the duct tape from Lex's mouth and was cutting the bindings on his hands and legs.

"Thank you," Lex whispered, taking inventory of his bruises. The bump on the back of his head was huge, but the cut above his eyes was superficial. He peered at Douglas. "How did you find me? Is Jillian okay?"

"Mr. Manos took her to the island. She's safe. As for finding you, I suspected Petrosian was involved after I overheard Ms. Jillian discuss him with her uncle over the phone. Since we already had information on him, it was easy to find you. I'll get you out of here at once, sir."

Lex slapped Douglas on the shoulder. He owed the man more than he could ever repay, but he'd think of something. "After I talk to Petrosian, my friend."

They both froze. Footsteps and voices were approaching.

"We take them down as soon as they open the door," Lex instructed.

"No, sir. We take them out _inside_ the room so as not to attract attention. If you assume the same position on the floor as if you're still tied up, they'll come inside with their guard down."

Lex didn't question Douglas. The element of surprise would shift the odds in their favor, something he knew as a businessman. The voices were closer now.

He slapped the duct tape across his mouth, grabbed his jacket, and lay on the floor, placing his hands behind him. Douglas hid behind a crate just as the door opened. Light streamed in and fell on Lex.

Once his eyes adjusted to the sudden glare, he recognized the two men. The scrawny one had called Jillian a porn star, probably imagined her doing things with him. Lex wanted to bash his face in. No one was allowed to call his woman names or fantasize about her.

Lex hummed and faked distress.

"Ah, you're finally awake," his target said. "Boss wants to talk to you." He stepped into the room and moved toward Lex. His bald-headed partner stayed by the door. They were so confident they had him they didn't even remove their guns.

"I'm going to fuck you up first, Mr. Bodyguard," the guy said. "Make you squeal like your porn-star girlfriend faking an orgasm."

The man bent down to remove the duct tape covering his mouth. Lex whipped his hand out from the back and attacked, breaking his nose with the heel of his hand. _That's for calling her a porn star._ The man staggered backward, a hand on his bleeding nose. He cursed as Lex followed through, bringing his fist down on the side of his knee, a move that could break a knee if the right force was used. He aimed to stun him.

The man's leg collapsed, and he lost his footing. He came down hard, and Lex noticed the gun tucked in his waistband. He grabbed his hand and twisted it behind him, then snatched the gun and tossed it out of reach. The man tried to butt him with the back of his head, but Lex was ready. He dodged and looped his arm around his neck in a chokehold. Seconds later, his body went limp.

Lex looked toward the door where the bald-headed man had last stood. He was out cold on the floor, too.

"Not bad, sir," Douglas said.

Lex chuckled. He hadn't taken martial arts seriously, until Douglas helped him perfect his moves. "I had the best teacher."

Lex picked up his jacket from the floor. There was a blood stain on the sleeve of his shirt from the man's nose and dried patches of his own on the collar. He shrugged the jacket on, adjusted the lapels, and swept a hand through his hair.

"Let's finish this," he said.

He followed Douglas out of the dingy room, up a set of stairs, and into a mirrored hallway. Lex glanced briefly at his reflection. The cut above his left eyebrow had caked dry blood around it, but he'd survive. They followed the pulsing music and entered a room with red draperies, velvet chairs, and dance areas. Hookah lounges were famous for their belly dancers.

A group of men sat to their right, watching an elderly woman sing on stage. The place was empty, which meant she could be auditioning. The skirt-suit she wore was classy, though the gray color was too dull for the stage. She wasn't bad. A bit raspy, but the Armenian tune showcased her powerful voice.

Lex approached the men. They were dressed in cheap suits like the two they'd knocked out in the basement, which meant none of them was Petrosian. They were busy staring and discussing the singer on stage and didn't notice their arrival, until Lex said, "I'm looking for Petrosian."

They jumped up and reached for their guns.

"Where are Yegor and Pazar?" one of them asked.

"Downstairs. Take us to your boss now," Lex ordered them.

He was surprised when they lowered their weapons. But then Lex realized they weren't looking at him. The singing had also stopped. He turned, expecting to see Douglas carrying a bazooka or some lethal weapon. Instead, his eyes met familiar eyes and they belonged to the woman who'd been singing.

He shook his head. Either the bump on his head had been so hard it was now screwing with his sight or this woman's turquoise eyes were exactly like Jillian's.

Up close, she looked much older. Still, the combination of thick black hair, those unforgettable eyes, and perfectly symmetrical face made her striking. But the way she carried herself said she was used to commanding attention.

"My name is Alin Petrosian," she said with an accent. "Khosrov Petrosian's widow. We'll talk in the office." She didn't offer him her hand, just pinned the men with a hard glare. "Make sure Yegor and Pazar are okay."

Lex and Douglas exchanged a glance, then followed her and the man who'd been standing a few feet from her. She led them into an office. It was large with leather chairs and portraits of horses. The scent of cigars and leather hung in the air.

Instead of offering them a seat, she turned and studied Douglas. "Wait outside," she ordered.

Douglas didn't move. Lex glanced at him and nodded. Douglas was reluctant to leave, but couldn't disobey Lex. By the time the door closed behind him, the woman was seated behind the desk. She still didn't offer him a seat.

"How much?" she asked.

Lex cocked his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"How much will it take for you to step aside so I can see my granddaughter?"

_Granddaughter_? "Jillian?"

A purse sat to her right. She dug inside and removed what looked like travelers checks. "What's your name?"

"Lex Fitzgerald, but I don't want your money."

"Of course you do. It's obvious you're attached to my granddaughter. Such devotion is something my people value in a servant. I was told you are her bodyguard." She gave him a onceover, her eyes cold and calculating. Jillian's were warm and sexy. "Going by what you are wearing, you have expensive taste. I'm willing to pay you whatever you ask, so I can take my granddaughter home. So I'll ask again. How much? A million? Two? Ten?"

Lex stared at the woman in shock. How ironic. He'd offered Jillian money so she could be in his life. Now her grandmother was offering him the same to let her go. He chuckled, but stopped when the woman's eyes flashed with rage. The way she lifted her chin and straightened her spine reminded him too much of Jillian, so they might really be related. But there was no chance in hell he was giving up Jillian.

The woman stood. "I didn't come back to this godforsaken country to be laughed at by a commoner. You will step aside willingly or suffer the consequences, because I'm not leaving without her. She's my only grandchild and the last of the Zakarians."

Lex didn't know Armenian history, but he understood what the word commoner meant. He didn't care if Jillian was the future leader of some eastern European empire. She belonged with him.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's no money in this world that could ever make me let her go or replace what I plan to give her. My love. Because you see, she already has my heart."

The woman laughed. "Heart. Men. I plan to give her something she never had. Family. History. Roots. A legacy. Can you deny her these things and live with yourself?"

CHAPTER 21

"These two people haven't moved since we got here," Rake said, tapping the screen of his laptop.

Jillian's grip tightened on the back of his seat. He was in the front passenger seat, and she was behind him in the middle row, practically climbing over his broad shoulders to see the screen better. One of those people could be Lex. She swallowed, her throat so tight and mouth so dry she could gag.

"But they're alive, right?" she asked.

"Yes." Rake explained how infra-red satellite imagery worked.

Four people were moving around at the front of the club. Several more were in the back. Lucien, the designated driver, had parked across the street from Petrosian Hookah Lounge. The traffic on the street was heavy, but the pedestrians were few. This side of San Juan tended to get busy at night and on weekends since it had a higher concentration of clubs and bars.

The waiting was unbearable. They'd barely arrived, but it seemed like forever. She was still amazed the men had let her come.

Rake tapped a key, and a live feed from whatever gismos he'd pinned on Dom and Sloan's jackets replaced the infra-red pictures. As soon as the two men disappeared inside the club, the screen split into four, showing the entire club.

The club was done in red, gold, and black. From draperies to the floor. It had Middle Eastern mosaic chandeliers, low back couches, and areas for the belly-dancers. Near the bar were long tables with hookah pipes. The four men they'd seen earlier were wiping down tables and seats.

Dom approached one of them. "Where's Mr. Petrosian?"

The screen showed the man studying Dom as though deciding whether he was friend or foe. Stupid man. It didn't take brains to know Dom could kick ass from here to hell and back. He had an aura of menace about him. Sloan was the opposite, the gentle giant.

"Which one? We're all Petrosians," the man said and laughed. His friends joined him.

Within seconds, Dom and Sloan had disarmed the men and taken their guns. They clipped them with the butt of their own guns and walked away before they hit the floor.

Okay, maybe the gentle giant was just the persona Sloan adopted to disarm people. He moved fast, like Lex. Maybe they'd all trained together or something.

Dom's face filled the screen. "Coast is clear. We're going to check on the other four."

Rake glanced back at Cade and Rod. The two were seated behind Jillian in the back seat. "Your turn."

"Why can't I go with them?" Jillian asked. "Lex could be one of the two not moving. Hurt and needing me."

"No," Rake said, his eyes on his screen. "We don't deviate from the plan. You stay put."

Cade and Rod chuckled as they left the SUV and took off across the street. Jillian wanted to scream. Instead, she glared at Rake. Men and their know-it-all attitudes. This one was completely unlikeable. She glanced at Aiden, debating whether to work on him. He was the moneyman while Lucien, the boyish-looking one and Deedee's love interest, was behind the wheel. Apparently, he had a thing for fast cars. He drove like a maniac once they landed the two choppers at John Wayne and hopped into a rental SUV.

Lucien and the Brit had caved a second after Dom when she'd turned on the waterworks earlier. Sloan had groaned and looked away. Rod and Cade were total softies and had tried to comfort her. Only Rake had watched her with annoyance and said, "You're fucking kidding me." Which had earned him a glare from the others. Deedee might be right about him being a robot masquerading as a human.

"Don't look at me, luv," Aiden said. "I'm outnumbered by the damn Yanks."

"Quit pulling that Brit crap every time you want to get out of taking sides, Aiden," Lucien snapped, his eyes volleying between the club entrance and the screen of Rake's computer, which showed a hallway. "What's keeping them? We're missing out on all the action."

"Eyes on the live feed, Aiden," Rake said impatiently. "They're getting closer to the other four. As soon as they find Lex, you take the money inside."

Dom and Sloan turned the corner, their camera capturing the two people standing by a door. Jillian recognized Douglas right away.

"What the fuck?" she exclaimed, and the men in the car all turned to stare at her. Dom and Sloan heard her through the two-way com-system and laughed.

Annoyed at their reaction, and refusing to be embarrassed because she'd dropped the F-bomb, Jillian bristled and said, "Yeah, I'm a quick study."

The conversation that followed between Dom and Douglas had her jaw dropping. Lex and the boss, as the man with Douglas called Petrosian, were having tea. _Tea._ After they terrorized her, ran him off the road, and totaled his Phantom? Something wasn't right. Jillian reached for the door.

"Where are you going?" Rake asked in a hard voice.

This particular billionaire was now on her dislike list. And his goatee wasn't _that_ cute anymore. "Inside to find Lex. And no, I'm not waiting in here like some pearl-wearing debutant or following _your plan_." When his eyes narrowed, she added, "Try to stop me and I swear I'll kick you in the balls."

Rake looked at her like he wanted to shake her until all her teeth fell out. Aiden and Lucien laughed. The other four joined them. That stupid communication system didn't miss a thing.

Jillian grabbed the duffel bag, jumped from the SUV, and sprinted across the street. A car swerved to avoid hitting her. The driver honked and screeched to a stop a few feet away. She reached the entrance when someone called her name, but she kept going.

"Slow down, goddamn it," Rake yelled.

Great. He just had to be the one to come after her.

She raced across the club, skirting around tables. He yelled her name, and for one insane moment she thought he sounded like Cian. They both had the same arrogant, know-it-all voice that grated. The men Dom and Sloan had knocked out were still kissing the floor. She reached the hallway at a full run, almost bumping into Cade and Rod, who were coming from the left.

"Whoa, slow down," one of them said.

"What's going on?" another asked, but Jillian was already sprinting toward the office where her man was having a tea party with the enemy.

"How can she run so fast?" she heard Rake ask, sounding annoyed. She almost grinned.

Douglas saw her first and alerted Dom and Sloan. "Don't bother telling me I can't go inside, because I _am_ ," she warned him.

"I wasn't planning to, Ms. Jillian." He stepped aside, but the other guy standing sentry didn't move. Douglas indicated to him, but he shook his head.

Jillian knew he was packing. She'd seen the bulge behind his back. She walked up to him and stood so close she could see his nostril hairs.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked softly.

"No, ma'am," he said and took a step back. Jillian followed him and poked at his chest.

"I am Jillian. Fucking. Finnegan." Her hand crept behind him as she continued to jab at him. "I am the reason your boss hurt my boyfriend." She whipped the gun from behind him and pressed it under his chin. "Now get the fuck out of my way."

The man swallowed and shuffled out of the way. Still watching him, she dismantled the gun, dropping each piece, except the clip. "I'll keep this if you don't mind."

"Jillian Finnegan! How many times have I told you to stop cursing like your brothers?"

Jillian froze. Then she slowly turned and faced her father. "What are you doing here, Dad?"

"Didn't I tell you to leave this alone?" he asked. "And don't think I don't know you've been riding with your brothers behind my back. The Phantom Rider. Splitting the Globe of Death."

She cringed with each word.

"Stay with your brothers until I'm done here," he ordered and the urge to obey followed, but Jillian had a lot more at stake than pissing him off. Lex was in there. Drinking tea with her family's nemesis. Probably making deals to keep her safe.

"I have business to finish here too, Dad. I'm paying Petrosian what you owe him, and I'm taking Lex home."

"You don't understand, Jilly. Petrosian is—"

"I don't care." Jillian whipped around and pushed the door. It swung on its hinges and bounced back, almost slamming into her face. It hit her arm, but she didn't feel anything. Her eyes had met Lex's.

Relief coursed through her, leaving her weak and teary.

She dropped the bag of money and sailed into his arms. He was okay. He had to be because he was walking and having tea. She wasn't even angry about that anymore.

Jillian leaned back and took inventory of his injuries. The bruise on his forehead looked nasty, but the rest were minor.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

He smiled and wiped her cheeks. She hadn't realized she was crying. He kissed her, soothing her raw nerves. She clung to him. There was no way she was letting him go. She couldn't. They had a year, and she planned to make the most of it. When the time came to leave him, she would go with no regrets. Reluctantly, she left his arms.

"You shouldn't have come here," he said, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm dealing with her now."

Her? Jillian wasn't sure who he was talking to. Then she noticed the other occupant of the room. An elderly woman.

"Where's Petrosian?" Jillian asked.

"I am Petrosian's wife," the woman said, her eyes shining with a weird intensity as she started around the couch, her hands lifting to press against her heart. "My name is Alin Petrosian." She stopped and gave Jillian a shaky smile. "I am your grandmother."

Jillian's gaze volleyed between Lex and the woman. Her what? Anger slammed into her. She had no grandparents. Her mother came from the system. A ward of the state dumped on the steps of some church. She had no parents or grandparents worth knowing.

"Yeah, sure." She reached down for the duffel bag and thrust it at her. "There's the three-fifty. Your husband is very lucky he isn't here today or I would have given him a black eye."

Mrs. Petrosian continued to stare at Jillian. She was sure the old woman hadn't heard a thing she'd just said.

"Take it, lady. We don't have the whole day."

The woman shook her head. "You have Jivan's eyes."

"Yeah." Jillian dropped the bag and turned to Lex. "Let's get out of here. And don't ever scare me like that again."

Lex palmed her arm and led her toward the door, grinning. "I promise. Why don't you go with the guys while I finish here?"

His friends stood behind her father and brothers, towering over them. Cian and Ricky looked worried while her father looked ready to commit mayhem. She followed his angry gaze to Mrs. Petrosian. Jillian noticed her tearful eyes. In her anger, she hadn't really paid attention to them. They were turquoise. Like hers.

"What do you need to finish?" Jillian asked Lex, her eyes locked with the old woman. "She has the money my father owed her husband. End of story."

"Your father was my son, Jivan," the woman said. "Not this circus clown."

"Do not call my father a clown," Jillian snapped. She might be angry with him for disowning her, but no one was allowed to belittle him or what he did.

The woman reached inside her bag and whipped out something. "Look at his picture and tell me you don't remember him."

Jillian ignored the picture and studied the woman instead. Turquoise eyes were unusual, but that didn't mean jack. She could be wearing contacts. Her complexion was dark. She had dark hair and regal bearing. She also had no problem setting thugs on people. She was everything Jillian wasn't.

"I don't know you, lady, or your son. Stay away from me and my family." Jillian gripped Lex's hand and started to turn away, but the woman made a mewling sound and clasped her chest as though she was having a heart attack. Jillian shook her head. She had seen better acting.

"You and your mother, Mira Lipinski, left New York when you were seven," the woman called out.

Jillian's heart squeezed. She stopped and turned. "Don't you dare—"

"She was running away from my husband. It was right after she received the news that your father—my son Jivan—was dead."

Running away? Could that explain why they'd kept moving? Her mother had never acted scared. She was smart and brave and resourceful. Part of Jillian wanted to look at the picture, but another didn't dare. She'd suffered enough disappointment in the parental department. Hope was a terrible feeling to squash. After a while, you stopped believing, dreaming, or wishing. She had very few dreams left, and she wasn't about to let anyone squash them. One of them was spending the next year with Lex. Maybe he'd grow to care for her like she cared for him.

"Listen, ma'am. Uh, Mrs. Petrosian. Your people have terrorized me and my family, hurt Lex, and destroyed his car. So why don't you just take the money and stop with the lies."

"I'm so sorry for how I handled things," the woman said, moving closer. "I just learned about you six months ago, and all I've thought about since then was finding you. You and I are the last Zakarians, direct descendants of Prince Zakare." As though she realized that Jillian was still skeptical, her eyes swept the faces in the room before coming back to her. "I apologize to all of you for the way my nephew conducted the search for Jillian. It was barbaric. But without him, I would not have located, uh, Mr. Finnegan."

Her eyes returned to Jillian. Lex was tense beside her, but he didn't speak.

"He is the one who found online videos of you and your mother's performances and tracked down the circus here. I will replace Mr. Fitzgerald's car and compensate him for his injuries and discomfort."

"I don't want your money," Lex said coldly.

Anger flashed in the woman's eyes when she glanced at Lex, and Jillian's gaze flew to his. He smiled calmly at her. Yeah, Mr. Poker Face wasn't fooling her. What the hell had happened during that tea? No, she didn't want to know. Now that she knew he was safe, nothing else mattered.

Jillian dragged her eyes from Lex to the woman. She didn't need this. "Listen, it's over. I don't care what your reasons were for what you did to my father—"

"Daniel Finnegan will also be compensated," Mrs. Petrosian said quickly. "Not just for what we put him through the past month but for raising you, my only granddaughter. I just wanted to meet you. Maybe get to know you and tell you about your people." The woman's face crumbled, her haughty bearing disintegrating. Her eyes begged for forgiveness. "Please, listen to what I have to say first. If you still don't believe me or choose not to forgive me, I'll leave."

Jillian sighed. She glanced at Lex, but his expression was unreadable. She wondered what he was thinking, but she wasn't the type of girl to run to a man for reassurance. This woman claimed to be her grandmother, sent a group of thugs to harass her father, and scared her niece. She was Jillian's problem, not Lex's.

She eased her hands from Lex's, took the picture from the woman, and studied it. A handsome young man with a swarthy complexion and dark hair stared back at her, his cocky smile frozen for eternity.

Jillian closed her eyes, but his face stayed etched in her brain. More appeared. This time, they were memories of the man who'd visited her and her mother in New York. Same dark-complexion. Same dark hair. Same smile. She tried to remember the color of his eyes but couldn't. Not that it mattered. It was the man in the picture, laughing as he read to her. Pushing her on the swing. Opening presents. She gulped, her eyes opening and tearing.

"Did you remember something?" Lex asked.

Jillian nodded and glanced toward the door. Her father still stood in the doorway, and from his expression, he knew the truth. He'd known and never once said anything. Why?

She focused on the old woman. Her grandmother. "You said he died?"

"He was killed twenty years ago. We never caught the men responsible, but I hope one day we will." She tilted her head to the side and studied Jillian, her expression sad. "Would you like to hear his story?"

Jillian swallowed, not sure she wanted to open that door, yet she couldn't pretend the woman didn't exist or that she'd actually known her father. Why hadn't her mother said anything? Jillian never called him Dad.

"Yes. I'd like to hear his story." Jillian moved to the couch, and Lex reluctantly followed her. He gripped her hand, his presence anchoring her. She was happy he was here with her.

Her grandmother... Still hard to wrap her head around that one. _Her grandmother_ invited her father and brothers inside. Lex's friends were outside the door, curiosity on their faces, but one of them closed it, giving them privacy.

Her grandmother sat across from Lex and Jillian, and crossed her legs at the ankle. "I'll start with our story, your grandfather's and mine. Khosrov Petrosian—that's your grandfather—and I came to America when we were newlyweds. He wanted to make his fortune and impress my family. You see, Khosrov was a valued employee on our family vineyard, but to my father, he was just a common laborer. It didn't matter that Khosrov was the first in his family to go to college. My father considered him socially inferior to us because of our royal ancestry." She smiled as though reliving the past. "He took a great deal of pride in his lineage even though most nobles at that time had changed their names to avoid prosecution."

Jillian didn't know anything about Armenians, but she was listening and trying hard not to be skeptical. A lot of the eastern Europeans her father employed in the Bay Area Circus claimed lineage to royalty, too. Most of them were Gypsies.

"He might not have approved of my love for Khosrov, but he loved me and wanted me to be happy, so he allowed us to marry. Soon afterwards, we moved to America. Your grandfather knew how to talk to immigrants, and they loved working for him. He treated them well. He was a good man. He was making his name in the garment industry when your father was born." She smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. "Jivan was such a happy child. He made our life complete. The business was doing well, or so I thought. It turned out our competitor did not like an Armenian immigrant taking a slice of his business and was doing everything to undermine and destroy your grandfather. To cut costs and make deadlines, Khosrov started doing business with, uh, bad men. Criminals." She muttered something in Armenian, and when she continued, her accent became stronger. "I had no idea how bad things were, until Jivan died."

Jillian fidgeted. They'd fled New York right after he died. If her mother had stayed, would Jillian have met her grandparents? Moved to Armenia? Never met Lex? Funny how one incident could change everything.

"Your grandfather believed his competitor killed your father. He left his nephew to run the business, and we went home to bury Jivan." Mrs. Petrosian became quiet. When she continued, she spoke slowly as though reliving the past. "Instead of coming back, we opened another clothing factory in Yerevan. I believed it was because we had no reason to come back to America. That changed six months ago when your grandfather had a stroke."

She paused and cleared her throat. Jillian glanced at the others to see how they were reacting. Her brothers looked worried while her father didn't bother to hide his dislike of Mrs. Petrosian. Lex stared at the woman without expression, which changed when he caught Jillian's eyes. He released her hand and wrapped his arms around her. She sunk against his side, so grateful for his warmth and strength.

"Just before your grandfather died, he told me everything. How our Jivan had a child with an American girl, Mira Lipinski. Your mother. He'd known about their relationship and discouraged it because your mother was a local dancer. An orphan with no roots or background to speak of."

Annoyance zipped through Jillian. What a snob. "He married you, but my mother was beneath his son?"

Mrs. Petrosian sighed, her eyes sad. "You misunderstand, my dear. It wasn't easy for Khosrov to join my family. My father never missed a chance to make him feel less than what he was. That's why we came to America. He didn't want the same for your mother. My father was still alive, and he would have made your mother's life miserable."

No wonder her mother had collected her from school and run. Jillian back pedaled, but not her father.

"But he was willing to take Jillian from her mother instead," Daniel Finnegan barked from across the coffee table. He leaned forward, his cheeks flushed. "No, Mrs. Petrosian. Your husband worked hard to leave his humble beginning and become accepted into your family. His son marrying a little Miss Nobody was going to ruin his plan. But his grandchild..." He wagged his finger. "She's the last of the Zakarians with your royal blood flowing through her. She would have secured his position in your society and redeemed him in your father's eyes."

Fury flashed in Mrs. Petrosian's eyes. "You insufferable man! My Khosrov had no prejudices. If he was guilty of anything, it was being heartbroken by the death of our son. He wanted what was best for Jillian."

"By trying to take her away from her mother? What about that was best for Jillian, huh?" Finnegan snapped.

"Dad, please," Jillian said. "Remember, your heart."

"She"—he pointed at Mrs. Petrosian—"gave me the first attack. Now she wants to finish me off with her lies."

_What?_ Jillian blinked. She hadn't expected that. Her father's theatrical side was rearing its head, though. Once he started, there was no stopping him.

"And she calls me insufferable," her father continued. "Bet you hung around to make sure I croaked."

Jillian glared at her brothers and mouthed, "Do something." But they just shrugged. The cowards. "Dad, please—"

"Control yourself, Finnegan," Mrs. Petrosian snapped. "I called the paramedics and stayed with you until they arrived because it was the right thing to do."

"You were snooping around."

"Dad!" Jillian snapped, drawing his attention. "Enough. Let her finish."

Mrs. Petrosian lifted her chin and harrumphed. "Thank you, dear. I'm trying to explain things to you the way I know them. I'm sorry your grandfather tried to take you from your mother. If I had known..." She pulled out a hanky from under her sleeve and dabbed the corners of her eyes, her hand shaking.

Jillian felt a little sorry for her. She tried to push aside the past two weeks and see things through her eyes. Her husband and son dead. She was about to face the future alone. Her family lineage about to end with her. Then she discovered a granddaughter she never knew she had.

"It's taken me months to find you, Jillian," Mrs. Petrosian continued. "I've shamelessly used my husband's old connections and relatives to help me in my quest. I'm not proud of my methods. When he"—she pointed her finger at Jillian's father—"told me he'd buried you alongside your mother, I knew he was lying. In my heart, I knew you were still alive."

Jillian's eyes widened as they flew to her father. "Why would you lie about me being dead or about me having other family?"

Her father shot her an apologetic look. "I promised your mother I would keep you safe. She was scared they'd take you away from her and made me swear to never let them know of your existence."

"I can understand that when I was child or after she died, but I'm twenty-nine, Dad. Old enough to deal with how my father died and my grandfather's attitude toward Mom." Her voice trembled to a stop. She was so pissed. She lifted her chin and took a deep breath before adding, "You should have told me everything, especially when she came to see you. All of this could have been avoided."

Her father looked down. "You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me, Dad," Jillian snapped. "Surely you can't still be worried _they_ would take me away. I'm a grown woman. I can make my own decisions."

"Now that she's found you, _they_ will too," he said.

He spoke so softly she wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "What? They who?"

"The bluebloods from New York. That's what your mother called the people who killed your father. She saw them. You"—he nodded toward Jillian—"saw them too."

Jillian blinked. "Me?"

"What?" Lex snapped, tensing.

"She knows the person who killed Jivan?" Mrs. Petrosian asked at the same time.

Jillian's father glared at her. "No, she doesn't. Jillian might have witnessed it, but she didn't remember afterwards and her mother wanted it kept that way."

"It is inside her head," Mrs. Petrosian said.

Jillian's father glared at her. "No, it's not, but your queries could have easily alerted them if they're still alive. That's why I wanted you to believe Jillian was dead. There was no way of knowing who you'd talked to."

Jillian shivered. The knowledge of her father's killer was buried inside her head?

Lex studied her face. She saw the concern in his eyes. "You okay?"

She started to nod, then changed her mind and shook her head. "All this... It's too much."

"Do you want her to stop? We can go home right now and put this behind us."

Could she? Somehow she doubted it. She tried to remember the events before she and her mother left New York, but she came up blank. "I wish I could remember. I was only seven and can barely remember my own father let alone something that traumatic."

"Maybe you blocked it," Lex said. "Or your mother assumed you'd seen it when you really hadn't."

Her mother had always been very protective of her, so that was possible. The thought that she had witnessed her father's death left her queasy. It also explained their crazy trek across the country. The states they'd lived in didn't exactly line up. Her mother had kept looping, probably making sure no one found their trail.

Jillian glanced at her father. "Is that why she wore a mask while performing?" It was where she'd gotten the idea to wear one as the Phantom Rider.

Her father nodded. "I got suspicious when she asked me for a job. With her looks and talent, she could have gotten a job anywhere, especially in L.A., yet she'd chosen the circus. I knew she had to be running from something. She told me her story, and I believed her. Her worst fear was that someone would recognize her."

They were married right away. Maybe they'd done it so he could protect them.

"I'm sorry I said I never adopted you," her father continued. "It was cruel and not true. You are a Finnegan, just like your brothers." Her father glanced at Mrs. Petrosian. "Her sudden appearance, the heart attack... I had to do something to keep you safe, so I got rid of your pictures and pushed you away with lies. You are my daughter. No matter what blood flows in your veins, you'll always be a Finnegan."

Cian and Ricky grinned and gave her thumbs-up. Jillian glared at them. They frowned. Even knowing that she was truly a Finnegan didn't eclipse the betrayal.

"You knew?"

"He told us _after_ you dropped off the money and stormed off," Ricky said quickly. "Not before."

"We tried to find you and tell you, but you disappeared," Cian added.

"Perhaps I should have told you the truth, but I just wanted her," he said, shooting a glare at Mrs. Petrosian, "gone." He focused on Jillian once more. "You should keep the money. I don't need it."

She didn't need it either. Maybe Cian and Ricky could split it. "We'll talk about it later." Jillian glanced at Lex. "The money in that bag"—she slanted her head to indicate the duffel bag she'd dropped on the floor—"is Rod's. It was his apology for the pictures." Lex didn't seem surprised. Mrs. Petrosian wore a bewildered expression. "I guess the three-fifty belongs to your, uh, nephew?"

"Three-fifty what?" Mrs. Petrosian asked.

Jillian opened her mouth, but Lex gripped her arm to get her attention. "Your father doesn't owe anyone money, Jillian." His eyes flickered to her father. "Do you, Mr. Finnegan?"

Her father shook his head. "No, I had to explain the men's presence. They kept coming to the house and scaring my granddaughter and daughter-in-law. I was hoping that if the troupe was gone and I disappeared, they'd never trace Mira or Jillian to us again."

Jillian's mouth dropped. "You were disbanding the troop to protect me?"

"Of course not," he said, but she saw through his denial. "I'm old and tired, and it's time your uncle and I retired. He knows this place in the Caribbean we could hang out and teach local kids a few bike tricks. Your aunt would love that, too. Ricky is looking for a job working with bikes, and Cian is taking accounting classes."

Jillian shook her head. "You're really serious about this? What about... me?" She looked at her brothers, who looked uneasy, then her Dad. "I wanted to come back."

"I know, Jilly," her father said. "If you want to keep everything and start a new troupe, go ahead. Like you said, you are a grown-up, but I don't think you'll be safe. Of course, I'll have to put my days in the sun on hold to keep an eye on things. Too many bikers cut too many corners. Your brothers..." He glanced at Cian and Ricky.

"Elena is pregnant," Cian said, his cheeks pink. "She wants a normal life, but I can help out on weekends."

"And Sophia wants a baby brother," Ricky said. "But I promise to bring them to watch you. We Finnegans support each other."

Tears rushed to Jillian's eyes. They didn't get it. It would never be the same without them. The whole point was being with them, her family. They were home. She glanced at Lex. No, they used to be home. Her anchor. Home was Lex now. It was only temporary, but she didn't care. She wanted to be with him.

"No, guys. I don't want a troupe. Only Finnegans ride in the Fearless Finnegan Troupe." She glanced at Lex. "Maybe Eddie could use Ricky's help. I learned everything I know about bikes from him. He knows engines and bike performances. If there's still an opening..."

Lex chuckled and stroked her cheek. "There is. I'll let Eddie know." He explained about the position of bike road testers.

Ricky almost tripped over the coffee table as he hurried forward to shake Lex's hand. "Thank you, Mr. Fitzgerald. I promise you won't be disappointed, sir. I've seen Leed's bikes, and they are exceptional."

After Ricky finished acting like he'd won the lottery and went back to his seat, Lex shot Jillian a glance. "You realize he'd be taking your job."

"Her job?" Mrs. Petrosian asked, a weird expression on her face.

Jillian nodded. "I was going to test ride bikes for his company."

"Is that what you do for a living?"

"No. I'm a stuntwoman."

"The best in the field," Lex added.

The old woman's eyes widened. "Oh."

Jillian wondered if the thugs who'd come to her house had told her about their theory, that she was a porn star.

"I do all the action scenes for actresses," she clarified just in case there was some cultural miscommunication.

Lex chuckled, clearly understanding her. "Except you hate Hollywood."

Jillian sighed. "I know."

"Then you should come home with me," Mrs. Petrosian cut in. "There's much more you can learn about your people, tradition, and heritage. The UAN should have a Zakarian sitting at the head of their table."

Didn't sound exciting, but Jillian was curious. "UAN?"

"Union of the Armenian Noblemen." Mrs. Petrosian smiled. "We are restoring noble dynasty and genealogy, and reinstating traditions of Armenian nobility. We need someone to bridge the gap between the old and the new aristocracy." Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "You're young and pretty, and can relate to the younger generation. They'll love and adore you. Your story alone will inspire our youth." She glanced at the others, her smile faltering when her eyes met Lex's, but she bounced back. "You could be our country's little princess, a beacon of hope, Jillian."

Wearing pearls, evening gowns, and kissing hands of babies was not her scene. "Mrs... Uh, Grandmother Petrosian, I know I have a lot to learn about my father and your side of the family," Jillian said, "so I'm happy you came looking for me. But all this is new, and I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Mrs. Petrosian nodded. "I know, but I'm here, dear. I'll prepare you."

Lex stiffened, and Jillian didn't dare look at him. "How long are you planning on staying in America?"

The old lady's eyes flickered to Lex. "A couple of weeks," she said.

Jillian smiled. "That's good. We can get to know each other. I'm very interested in knowing more about my father. Maybe you could show me some of his pictures and tell me about him."

"I would love that. I'll contact you or you can come to my hotel. I'm at Montage. There are so many things I want to tell you."

"That would be nice."

Jillian saw the triumphant look she threw Lex. She had to make one thing clear. "However, I can't come back to Armenia with you. I might visit someday. You never know. But right now, I already made a commitment to someone else." Jillian glanced at Lex. She would choose him any day. She smiled at her grandmother. "You see, I'm getting married in two weeks."

"Married?" her father asked.

Jillian dragged her eyes away from her grandmother, who looked furious, and focused on her father. "Lex and I, uh, we are—"

"No, sweetheart," Lex interrupted, interlacing their fingers. "This is where I come in."

Ricky and Cian laughed. Her father scowled harder. Her grandmother still looked like she wanted to hit someone on the head with her purse. She was clutching it tight.

" _I_ would like to ask you for your daughter's hand in marriage, sir," Lex said.

Her brothers converged around them, shaking Lex's hand. Ricky had the nerve to add, "Thank you for taking her off our hands." He barely escaped her punch.

Her father and new grandmother didn't move from their seats or look happy. But then again, Jillian didn't blame them. Her father was going to hold back his approval until he knew Lex better. He never approved of Cian and Ricky's wives either. According to him, Elena was too snooty and Ginger too scared of her own shadow. Ginger hadn't helped matters either because she'd kept Sophia's existence a secret for nearly three years before she tracked Ricky down and told him he was the father. Jillian wondered if her father's attitude toward Elena would change now that she was pregnant. He was big on family.

As for her grandmother, she seemed to have prematurely planned Jillian's entrance into her society. She probably didn't understand Jillian's decision. Jillian was perfectly fine with it. She was trading a life that could have been glamorous for a year filled with uncertainty armed with just one thing—her growing feelings for Lex.

~*~

Hours later, Lex tucked Jillian under his chin and stared at the ceiling. Jillian had chosen him. She was at home in his arms instead of packing for Armenia, yet the determined gleam in her grandmother's eyes stayed with him. Mrs. Petrosian didn't accept Jillian's decision gracefully, and he wouldn't put it past her to try something behind their backs. She would rue that day.

Jillian lifted her chin and studied his face. "What's wrong?"

Lex ran his knuckles along her cheek, stroking her cheekbones and gently sloping jaw line. He wanted to watch her fall asleep every night and see her face first thing in the morning.

"Your father offered you what you wanted. A chance to go back to performing live, something that meant a lot to you, yet you turned him down. Why?"

She bit her lower lip and made a face. "Being back with my family was more important than the troupe. Sure, I'd probably have gotten the best of the best to ride with me, but it wouldn't have felt right. We were special because we were a family."

"So, you won't miss the thrill of performing live?"

She grinned. "Oh, I'll definitely miss that. Who doesn't like adoring fans?"

"You could get adoring fans if you went to Armenia with your grandmother. A whole country fawning over the last Zakarian Princess."

She gave an unladylike snort. "Did you really buy that? The woman is lonely, and I'm her only relative. She would have said anything to make me listen to her."

Lex had thought so too, especially after the things she'd said before Jillian and her family joined them. As soon as they'd left San Juan, Lex asked Douglas to check into UAN and Zakarians. Just before they came to bed, Lex had read the preliminary report Douglas had sent. UAN was alive and thriving in Armenia, and they needed a way to connect to the younger generation, just like Mrs. Petrosian had said.

The woman was also right about Zakarians. There were once two Zakarian princes who fought valiantly to free their people. The people considered them heroes and revered them. They would definitely welcome a Zakarian princess. Like Mrs. Petrosian had said, Jillian's story would have made headlines. But it would have also brought the faceless bluebloods—whoever they were—to Jillian's door.

That was the one thing Lex found unacceptable. He could share Jillian with her people, circus goers and bikers from hell, and even the annoying Hollywood crowd, but if it put her life in danger, screw them all. Bubble wrap wouldn't be enough to keep her safe.

"Now you are worrying," Jillian said, stroking his chin. "What's going on behind those intelligent eyes, Alexander?"

"I can give you a family. We are many and loud, but they'll welcome you and love you like one of their own."

She grinned, turquoise eyes twinkling. "For a second there I thought you meant babies."

His chest tightened as he imagined her with his child. "I can provide those too if you can settle for one adoring fan." He swallowed, mouth dry and stomach clenching with nerves. "You'd never have to perform to be loved and adored."

She sat up, the smile disappearing from her face. "What are you saying?"

Lex followed her, taking her hands. "I'm saying that I'm crazy about you, Jillian Finnegan. I'm saying that you have me. Probably did the moment you looked at me in your clown makeup and smiled." Her eyes grew luminous. He scrambled off the bed and knelt in front of her. "I'm saying I don't want a year with you, not if I can have a lifetime."

Tears filled her eyes, and he hoped they were tears of joy.

"I'm saying," he added, speaking slowly, "that we tear up that agreement and get married in two weeks for real."

She swiped at the tears. "No. We can't tear it up. Never."

His heart dropped and got lodged somewhere between his nuts and knees. She was turning him down.

Jill shuffled until her legs landed on the floor on either side of him. She reached forward and cupped his face. "Without that contract, we would not be here and I would not be giving up adoring fans for one. That's all I need, Lex. One adoring fan who gets me. And that's you." She kissed him. "I plan to frame that crazy contract and look at it every time you—"

He pulled her down, crushing her to him. "There's so much I need to tell you," he said gruffly. "About me and my friends."

She grinned. "The same friends who risked their reputation to rescue you? I like them already. Well, there's one I particularly dislike, and another I'd seduce if you're ever mean to me."

Lex groaned. She was going to complicate his life, but what a life they were going to have. He scooped her up, threw her on the bed, and joined her, trapping her with his leg. "Try it and I'll bury him six feet under while you watch. You are mine. You'll always be mine."

She evaded his lips before he could kiss her. Cupping his face, she repeated, "Just like you are mine, Lex Fitzgerald. You'll always be mine."

Thoughts of his friends and her grandmother ceased to matter as they got lost in each other.

### EPILOGUE

"Tell me again who will be there," Jillian asked as they approached the mansion. Sunday had arrived too soon. She wasn't ready to meet the rest of Lex's family or to get married next week.

"Everyone." Lex gripped her hand. "They'll see how crazy I am about you and welcome you with open arms."

Crazy about her wasn't love, but it would do. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she remembered her father's reaction. He hadn't bought their engagement despite what Lex had gone through for her. He probably wouldn't until she was with child.

Her mind didn't just go there. She and Lex might have agreed to give this marriage a try, but theirs wasn't a conventional relationship. Yesterday's visit with Father O'Malley—the Fitzgerald family's priest—had been equally weird. She knew nothing about pre-wedding counseling, but she hadn't minded answering personal questions. She was proud of her family and her upbringing, and she was confident about her future with Lex. Whether Father O'Malley believed that she and Lex were perfect for each other was another story, though. Not that it mattered. They were getting married in six days. She, Jillian Finnegan, was getting her fairytale wedding after all.

She glanced at the ring Lex had given her, and her throat closed. Lex had surprised her with it two nights ago and proposed again. It was gorgeous, a center stone surrounded by smaller ones set in platinum.

Jillian stopped admiring the ring when Lex entered the gate and she saw the cars lining the driveway. She had to clear her throat before asking, "How many are here today?"

He chuckled, brought the Bentley to a stop, and hurried around to open her door. The Bentley was nice, but she missed the Phantom. She finally got to see his collection of cars. Some were vintage, while others were custom-made just for him. He had a thing for foreign cars.

"Will you stop worrying? Look at them peering at us. They're eager to meet you."

Jillian glanced behind him and saw a few faces at the window, mainly kids. At least there were children. If the adults proved to be too much for her to handle, she'd join the kids. She was great with kids.

The walk to the door was the hardest she'd taken, but as soon as the door opened, there were cries of "Uncle Lex is here" as girls and boys, ages anywhere from three to seven, converged on him.

Lex was right about being a favorite uncle. They all wanted his attention. He touched cheeks and heads, complimented the girls' cute princess dresses, and shook hands with the boys. Their parents weren't far behind, some of them carrying younger kids.

"Jillian, I'd like you to meet Miss Raelynn Fitzgerald and Ella Fitzgerald Noble." He indicated the older girls.

"This is for you, Miss Jillian," Ella said, giving her flowers, which Jillian hadn't seen in all the hugs. They looked hand-picked.

"Thank you, Ella," Jillian said, going down to her knees to accept the sweet gesture. The little girl was adorable with straight black hair and bright blue eyes. "They're beautiful."

"I picked flowers for you too, Miss Jillian," Raelyn said. She was equally adorable with blonde curls. She glanced at Ella and grinned. Serious competition there.

"They're lovely, Raelyn. Thank you."

A boy pushed the two girls. "Move for Shif, Ella," a boy said.

"Sean," both girls protested.

"Shif wants to give her a flower, too," Sean said. He was clutching the hand of a girl around his age. Jillian put their age to be around three. They looked like twins with dimples and curly brown hair. He was already watching out for his sister, who was trying to hide behind him. She extended a red belladonna lily.

"Thank you, Shif," Jillian said, completely captivated by the twins. "Nice to meet you, and you too, Sean Fitzgerald."

Shif giggled, but the brother said, "It's Shif and Sean Fitzgerald Knight."

"And Shif is short for Siobhán," a woman said. "She's named after our aunt. I'm Jade, Lex's sister. This is my husband, Vince." She pointed at a man who reminded Jillian of Dom. They had the same intensity. "The twins are ours."

Jillian met Raelynn's parents, Eddie and Amy Fitzgerald. Faith Fitzgerald and her husband Ken Lambert and their sons, Ronan and baby Lucas. Jillian finally realized why Estelle and Lex had kept mentioning Faith. She was family and a couture designer. Jillian appreciated the dress Estelle had given her even more.

Next was Ashley and Ron Noble, Ella's parents, and their baby son Cian. Jillian wondered if it was spelled with a C like her brother's name. Baron and Kara Fitzgerald had one son Neil, and Chase—Baron's twin—and his wife Nikki, had the latest addition to the Fitzgerald family—eight-month-old daughter, Celeste. The only single Fitzgerald was Dean, a cousin from Montana, who'd traveled with Chase and his family. He had the Fitzgerald good looks and charm. But it turned out he wasn't the only one unmarried when the group joined the rest of the family in the backyard.

Jillian worked hard to keep up with who was married to whom and their children when she met Lex's other cousins, uncles, and aunts. Sean, Dean's twin, was married to Ava and had two sons. There was Eddie's father and his wife Iona and their younger daughter. Faith's father and stepmother, both professors at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, and their boys. A power couple, lawyers to the stars...

They were so many younger ones, some without children. Some had flown from Texas, Montana, and even San Diego.

"Aunt Viv and Aunt Siobhán won't be here for a couple of hours," Estelle said.

"See, that wasn't bad," Lex whispered.

"Do you do this every Sunday? Everyone comes from all over the country for a family dinner?" Jillian asked.

Lex chuckled. "No, every _other_ month. Today is different."

"How?"

"They're here to meet you," he whispered. "You'll meet the rest at our wedding next week."

There were more of them? Jillian was impressed and a bit overwhelmed by his family. She wasn't surprised to see serving bowls and trays from Eros. Deanna, the owner, was around too. Like before, she looked nervous.

For the next several hours, Jillian watched the Fitzgeralds mingle with each other. The men—even the older ones—were gifted with good looks and doted on their women. The Fitzgerald women knew how to pick them, too. Their husbands were all gorgeous. While the children splashed in water, the men played a game of basketball, and their women cheered. Lex's skills were impressive, but his younger brothers kept ganging up on him and teasing him.

"He usually doesn't play," Jade explained. "He must be trying to impress you."

"Jade!" Ashley said. "You're terrible. Don't listen to her, Jillian. Poor Lex tends to get the job of overseeing things."

"Not that we don't mind our men showing off their skills," Faith piped in.

"Especially when they do it shirtless," Kara said, eying her husband.

"And sweaty," Amy added, blowing Eddie a kiss.

The women laughed, drawing the attention of the players. It was easy to see the striking resemblance between the Fitzgeralds. Jade and Ashley could pass for sisters, but Faith stood out. She was stunning.

"So when is the wedding?" Faith asked, and everyone focused on Jillian.

Jillian groaned. Lex should be answering this question. When they'd met with Father O'Malley a few days ago, he wanted to know why the rush, too. Lex had told the good father that they didn't want to wait.

"Next weekend," she said.

Their shocked expressions made her cringe. Eyes went to her stomach, and she knew what they were thinking—she was pregnant. She didn't correct them, and they didn't get a chance to say anything because two elderly women arrived and everyone's attention shifted.

"Aunt Viv and Aunt Siobhán," Ashley said and sighed. "Don't let her scare you."

"Her bark is worse than her bite," Kara said. Nikki and Amy nodded.

"Her" was Aunt Viv. Lex had told Jillian all about his Aunt Vivian, the matriarch of the Fitzgerald family. She tended to ask personal and intrusive questions. Jillian had come prepared.

"So where is the woman who's stolen Lex's heart?" one of them asked, her voice carrying. Jillian concluded she was Aunt Viv.

Lex left the game to introduce Jillian to his aunts. Siobhán was sweet and welcomed her to the family. Aunt Viv, on the other hand, studied Jillian as one would a bike she was about to purchase. Jillian was sure she noted everything about her. Something about her reminded Jillian of her Armenian grandmother.

Then the question Jillian had been expecting and dreading followed. "Who are your people, Ms. Finnegan?"

"Aunt Viv," Lex warned.

"It's a reasonable enough question, Lex. Quit hovering. Go back to your game. Sit down, Ms. Finnegan."

Jillian sat, but Lex didn't leave. "It's okay," she reassured him. She waited until he went back to the game before saying, "My father owns a circus, Mrs. Fitzgerald."

The woman went pale, her hand going to her chest. "Circus?" she asked, making the word sound like a slug. "Like Circe du Soleil?"

"No, ma'am. Nothing that fancy. Bay Area Circus is small."

"Oh, Lord," she murmured. "Do you work in his _circus_?"

"I did until I was eighteen." This wasn't so bad. Jillian leaned back and caught Lex's worried eyes. She waved. He smiled and went back to the game. She glanced at the two women. They were watching her intently as though expecting her to continue. "Then I left for Hollywood, but I still perform with my family sometimes."

"So you never went to college?" Aunt Siobhán asked.

"No, ma'am. I learned all I needed to know from my family."

Color rushed back into Aunt Viv's cheeks, and her eyes flashed. "Oh, that impossible boy. How can he do this to us?" Aunt Viv glanced at her sister. "Looks like we have our work cut out for us, my dear Siobhán."

Jillian wasn't sure what "our work" meant, but she was going to enjoy sparring with this woman. And if she failed, she'd send her grandmother to deal with her.

THE END

Thank you for reading **Impulse: Infinitus Billionaire**. If you enjoyed the book consider leaving a review then download **Indulge** (book 2). I have included the first two chapters.

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Indulge: Infinitus Billionaire (Book 2)

READ THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS OF INDULGE

INDULGE-CHAPTER 1

"How's the fit?" Chris Lander, the stunt coordinator asked while pushing his fingers into the padding on Jillian's arms.

Jillian Finnegan flexed her shoulders and nodded. "Perfect."

Once again, she was suited up for a stunt scene. This time, she would be rolling a car, something most people assumed was obsolete because of computer-generated images. Not to producer Barbara "Barbs" Higgins. She wanted every scene in her epic sci-fi movie to appear authentic. She had a hit in _Terra Frost_ and knew it. The media was already talking about it because of a few scandalous pictures of Jillian and an assumed feud with the lead actress, Margo Jenkins. Barbs was too classy to say it, but she must be loving the free publicity.

Jillian adjusted her gloves and secured the Velcro closing. The entire outfit—suit, gloves, and the helmet—was an exact copy of the one Margo would wear once Jillian finished doubling for her. Jillian used to wear cheaper and inferior replicas, but things were different now because of her fiancé, Lex Fitzgerald. He hadn't joked about making her safety his number one priority. According to him, Jillian deserved the best, and he had the means to give it to her.

Lex was a billionaire. Not the narcissistic, self-centered kind that expected everyone around them to do his bidding and acted like a baby when he didn't get his way. Nah, Lex was complex. Giving. Demanding. A sex god. No whips, chains, or balls for him either. Not that there was anything wrong with those things. To each their own. Lex had the equipment, the stamina, and an arsenal of sexual tricks to rock any woman's world.

He had rocked hers. Ripped apart the foundation of her crazy, extreme-adventure-loving life and redefined it, then dared her to say she hated it. How could she? She'd screamed her approval with every orgasm. Screamed and demanded more. And Lex had delivered and kept delivering. She'd never met a man like him.

Until Lex, she'd gotten her kicks performing bike tricks with her family inside the Globe of Steel and on the Wall of Death, and then doing stunts in Hollywood. She had actually believed nothing could give her the same high as cheating death while hopping off burning buildings and flipping cars. God, she'd been naïve.

Lex gave her a better high. An addictive high. The things that man could do with his mouth. His tongue. His fingers. The ten-inch gift to women... He wasted nothing in the bedroom. He even talked dirty.

Jillian blew out air. Was the padding making her hot, or were her wanton thoughts responsible? She glanced around at her coworkers and wondered if the stunt crew nearby could tell she was fantasizing about multiple orgasms. She might be at a film location in Vancouver, Canada, but her mind was in Los Angeles with Lex.

She pressed her knees together and tried not to think about the sorry state of her nether regions. It happened every time she thought about Lex. He had her, body and mind. She just didn't know yet how deeply her heart was involved.

Jillian forced herself to focus on the stunt crew and the new state-of-the-art gear. Lex had replaced every piece of equipment, and others had noticed. His mother was funding the movie, yet he was more concerned with the stunt crew's comfort because of Jillian. They had a new trailer. The largest in the parking lot. That it wasn't brand new meant Chris had put his foot down and insisted on doing the buying. Chris, the stunt coordinator, was her honorary uncle and mentor. Lex had a way of making people do his bidding, but Chris was equally stubborn. If he hadn't insisted, Lex would have gone all out and not cared whether the trailer outshined Margo's or her costar, Keith LeBlanc's.

Margo Jenkins was a total diva. There was enough tension between her and Jillian without throwing in more keg powder. On the other hand, Keith, her hot Aussie costar, was a total sweetheart. In fact, the last two nights, he'd hung out with the stunt crew in their trailer during filming.

"Okay, let's go," Chris said, placing the helmet in Jillian's hand. "Preston, stay," he added, shooting the eager young man in tight, skinny jeans, checkered shirt, and black hipster glasses a hard look. Chris wasn't too thrilled about Troy Preston's presence on the set.

Troy was her new assistant and another surprise from Lex. She'd protested that she didn't need an assistant when she and Lex had arrived at the airport to find Troy waiting inside the Boeing.

"Then fire him," Lex had said nonchalantly, but Jillian hadn't. She couldn't.

Troy had an eager-to-please-and-learn air of someone fresh out of college. Totally adorable. He seemed more interested in what went on behind the scenes than being in front of the camera, despite being talented—he did amazing improvs. Whatever his interests, Jillian knew how hard it was to break into the movie business, whether it was in front of the camera or behind it. She'd been lucky to have Chris when she went to Hollywood, so she never went through the hardship most aspiring actresses or stuntwomen experienced. Having Troy tag along during her scenes was her way of paying it forward. Maybe he'd learn a thing or two.

So she'd conceded defeat and kept Troy, then made it up to Lex for being such a wonderful fiancé. He tended to be dominant in the bedroom, which she didn't mind. But when she wanted to assert her independence, a lover had better watch out. Her aggression had scared many a weaker man from her bed. Not Lex. The sexy billionaire had loved every minute of it. And she'd made their flight to Vancouver very memorable.

God, how she missed him. Missed the sound of his voice. His scent. The way he smiled. He had the most beautiful smile. It started with a twinkle in his gray eyes. Then a twitch of his lips created creases around his mouth, turning into the most brilliant grin she ever saw. But his laugh was sensual, raw, straight from the gut. Sexy. It made her go all soft and gooey inside. Most often, she stopped whatever she was doing and just watched him, then jumped him.

"Snap out of it!" Chris hissed.

Jillian's cheeks warmed. Nothing but the sequence of action should be on her mind before she did a scene. She pulled Chris aside. "How is Troy ever going to learn anything when you keep telling him to stay in the trailer?"

"It's not my job to teach him."

"No, but you were once someone's protégée." Her father's to be exact. She didn't have to say it, but it dangled in the air between them.

Her family, the Fearless Finnegan Troupe, was once part of the Bay Area Circus. They'd thrilled crowds with bike stunts and gained a serious following. Jillian had been the youngest of the Finnegans, the only girl to ride the Globe of Steel in the troupe, and Chris and her brothers had taught her everything she knew about bikes. But her father had taught Chris.

So yes, she was guilting him into doing her bidding. She refused to have the two people closest to her not getting along. As it was, she had very few friends in this production. Heck, she had few people in Hollywood she'd call friends. She'd never been part of the "in" crowd. Worse, she didn't know why Chris disliked Troy, so she couldn't fix it.

"Dad taught you all he knew with patience and lots of praises," Jillian added.

Chris scoffed at the very idea. "Your father does not have a patient bone in his body, and he is stingy with praises. And boy, can he hold a grudge."

Despite his attempt to sound indifferent, Jillian heard the sadness in Chris' voice. Her father had never really forgiven him for leaving the Fearless Finnegan Troupe for Hollywood.

"I don't know about that," Jillian said, naturally coming to her father's defense. "He sent me to you."

"That's because you were hell-bent on killing yourself, and he knew I was the only one you didn't have wrapped around your fingers." Jillian rolled her eyes, but Chris had already turned to glance at Troy. "Come on, Preston, but stay with my crew. I don't want Barbs complaining that you're underfoot."

"Yes, sir," Troy said.

Chris grunted. "What was Fitzgerald thinking?" he murmured, as they headed toward the set. "You don't need an assistant."

Jillian grinned. "Actually, I do. Troy has an amazing sense of fashion. He's found gorgeous wedding dresses." She glanced over her shoulder and winked at the younger man. "He created a file with the names of the designers and the cost for each gown." Most of them were expensive, but she planned to splurge. This was her dream wedding. Her one and only time to walk down the aisle.

"I thought Lex's cousin was designing your wedding dress," Chris said, a frown creasing his forehead.

"Yes, but you know me. I always have a plan B just in case," Jillian said.

On Sunday, after family dinner, Faith Fitzgerald-Lambert—a couture designer and Lex's cousin—had whisked Jillian to a private bedroom and taken her measurements. She'd promised to make her gown her first priority. That was three days ago. Jillian hadn't heard a peep from her, yet her wedding was on Saturday.

The annoying churning started in her stomach again. Every time she thought about her wedding, a flutter kicked into existence in her core. Part of it was excitement, and the other was dread.

Yes, she was getting her dream wedding, something she'd almost given up on, but she was also worried things could go wrong. Her relationship with Lex was complicated. He'd wanted a temporary wife to convince a competitor to see things his way, and she'd agreed to help him at a price. They'd never factored in sex. Sex between consenting adults wasn't complicated when the parties involved stayed true to why they were doing it. But it had gotten messy fast when rules were changed and emotions became involved. Lex played by his own rules. He'd pulled a fast one on her, and she'd had to either fight it or go with the flow. She'd dived in, willingly participating in his sensual games. Half the time, she wasn't sure whether she loved him or just wanted him. The man was unpredictable and unstoppable. Heck, the whole Fitzgerald clan was unstoppable.

Lex's mother, Estelle Fitzgerald, had told Jillian not to worry about the wedding. She had a wedding planner on speed dial, who would consult with Jillian's father and have everything ready by Saturday. Jillian had a feeling the Fitzgeralds' idea of "ready" was different from her daredevil family's spur-of-the-moment way of doing things. Her parents had swung by city hall to get married and so had her brothers. It was simple. Fast. Cheap. That was how they did things. Jillian was expecting a call from her father threatening to kill someone. Her father was theatrical and mercurial.

Then there was Lex. What if he changed his mind about a real marriage? He didn't love her. The plan to show his prospective Japanese partner that he was a stable, happily married man was still on, but he could always change his mind after signing the contract.

Jillian sighed. Maybe she was fishing for straws where there were none. Sex between her and Lex was still hot, so that was something. On the other hand, sex alone never sustained a relationship. She could merely be a novelty, the latest toy for a man who had everything. Heck, he could get bored and move on to someone or something else before the year was over.

"Jillian!"

Jillian blinked and stared at Chris.

"Where's your head?" he asked, scowling.

"Right here." Grinning, she pointed at her neck, but he only scowled harder. He was in one of his moods, which meant he wouldn't want to hear that she was having wedding jitters. If he thought she was too distracted, he would pull the plug on the scene.

Jillian walked to the rigged, mock futuristic silver and chrome Jeep, slid behind the wheel and strapped in. The first director, Barbs' husband Michaels, was already seated in a mounted chair for a better view. Camera crews were stationed along the street with the last one near the spectators at the barricaded end of the street. Hopefully, she'd stop the car without storming it or hitting someone.

Jillian put on her helmet and wiggled her hips, but she couldn't find a comfortable position. The car's seat harness was too snug.

"What is it?" Kenny asked.

Kenneth "Kenny" Mittack was a permanent member of Chris' crew. Others came and went, but not Kenny. He often worked one-on-one with Jillian.

"The straps are a bit tight," Jillian said.

Kenny adjusted the harness and made sure every pointed object was perfectly padded. When everything was to his satisfaction, he squeezed Jillian's shoulder and stepped back.

Jillian ignored the goggles on the passenger seat and looked around the car. All the safety precautions had been taken care of, and nothing could possibly go wrong. They'd fitted the car with a miniature gas tank, so there was minimal danger of explosion during the roll over. A cage had also been fitted inside the car to reinforce the body against collapsing.

Chris braced himself on the open door and studied her. She gave him an innocent smile and received a scowl. "What?" she asked with a touch of attitude.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked.

"Yep." Jillian gave him a thumbs-up. He hesitated, continuing to study her. She should have known she couldn't hide anything from him. "Chris, I need to finish this, so I can go relax in the trailer and watch TV or something. Oh, I saw a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. Yummy."

"The mint is mine, so keep your paws off it. Pay close attention to the speed," he reminded her. "If you can't maintain it, skip the last ramp and we'll redo the scene."

And add a couple of hours to the production? No way. She nodded anyway and waited for him to step away from the Jeep. He was a worrywart, but he had reasons to be. A stunt company was held accountable when a stuntman or woman got injured, not the production company.

Jillian put on the goggles and looked through the sugar-glass window at the street lined with cars. The pyrotechnic team had taped explosives under each car's chassis, and would detonate them as her Jeep shot past, giving the illusion of a collision. The last car was parked behind a pipe ramp set at an angle so that when the right side of the Jeep ran over it, that side would be catapulted upward. At just the right speed, the Jeep should roll over several times, land on its hood, skid for a few seconds and come to a stop. It wasn't just a theory. They had done dry runs of the scene and timed everything to the last second.

Jillian understood why Chris had reminded her to check the speed. The rollover was tricky. The angle of the ramp and the speed of the car determined how many times the car flipped, and whether it landed on its hood, the side, or back on its wheels, which were also reinforced for sudden impact.

Michaels gave the signal, and Jillian started the engine. As they'd done in the rehearsals, she accelerated after three seconds. The mixture of anticipation and nervousness translated into euphoria. She loved this. Loved the thrill and adrenaline rush that came with it, but it was _not_ better than sex. It could never be better than sex with Lex.

Sweat broke out on her brow as her heart pounded faster, but her eyes stayed focused on the other cars. Gripping the steering wheel a little harder, she took a deep breath just as she approached the first car.

The pyrotechnician in charge punched the detonation button at the right moment, and the car was flung away from Jillian's. The rest of the sequence went just as smoothly, until the last car.

The explosion was louder, her windows rattling. Her Jeep flipped into the air, rolled over three times, and landed on its hood, the glass exploding around her. Shards bounced off the plastic goggles and Jillian squinted, but she didn't close her eyes despite the instinct to do so. The Jeep skidded for a while before it came to a stop by the spectators.

She was upside down and could see feet shuffling forward. Some people squatted for a better angle and continued to take pictures and videotape her. The huge lenses said paparazzi were around.

Security tried to push them back. One even told them to stop recording. Wasn't going to happen. Jillian ignored them as the crew converged on her car, tipped it upright, and helped her out. The rapid clicking of cameras mingled with gasps when she removed the helmet and goggles, and the onlookers realized she was a woman.

_Neanderthals._ Sometimes it amazed her how sexist people were. Who did they think did stunts for their favorite action actresses? Men in drag?

"That was perfect," Kenny said.

"Thanks to you guys," Jillian said. Every stunt was a team effort. They perfected it, and she followed their instructions to the letter. One miscalculation on either side and everything went kaboom.

"Over here, Ms. Finnegan," someone yelled from the crowd, and Jillian turned. A woman with a mic asked, "Is it true you are the last Zakarian princess?"

Jillian froze, her mind going blank.

"Did your grandmother come all the way from Armenia to find you?" another reporter yelled.

"Did the circus family who raised you know who you were, or were they surprised by the news?" the first one added.

"Are you going to inherit the Petrosian fortune?"

Silence followed as everyone waited for her response. Jillian couldn't respond. Instead, panic rose like a tsunami and threatened to drown her. This could _not_ be happening. Not now and not here. No one was supposed to know about her Armenian side of the family. She glanced at the crowd pressing against the barricade. Their interest in her had doubled.

Screw freedom of the press. She hated reporters with a passion. Hated their intrusiveness and inability to take no for an answer. But mixed with the hatred was fear that went back years.

As though time reversed, she was sixteen again, cornered by overzealous reporters eager to further their careers at her expense. She'd just lost her mother, but they hadn't cared. Instead, they'd hurled questions and planted ugly thoughts in her head.

Did she blame the circus for her mother's death? Did she blame her father? How was she coping? Will she ever perform again? Was she there when it happened? One had stalked her for days. Totally creeped her out until her brothers took care of him.

Jillian blew out air. She wasn't a teenager anymore. And neither was she a princess. She opened her mouth to tell them exactly that, but that annoying, paralyzing, irrational fear had stolen her voice. All she could mutter under her breath was, "Fuck... Fuck..."

"Can you repeat that, Princess Jillian?" a reporter yelled.

"Let's go," Chris said, appearing at her elbow.

"Come on, Ms. Finnegan, give us something," a man yelled as Chris led her away. More questions followed, and Jillian ground her teeth.

"Are you going to continue doing stunts now that you know you are an heiress?"

What heiress? Whatever her family in Armenia owned had nothing to do with her.

"What was it like being raised a circus rat?"

_A circus rat?_ She turned and lifted her hand to give the speaker the finger, but Chris grabbed her wrist.

"Don't even think about it," Chris warned. He knew her too well.

"They're being assholes."

He sighed. "Doesn't mean you have to be one, too."

"When are you going back to your country?" someone yelled.

Jillian turned and yelled, "America is my country, you—"

Chris covered her mouth before she finished the sentence, and she swallowed the rest of her words. More questions were hurled at her, but she already regretted her outburst. Damn vultures. Jillian hopped on a golf cart, anger chasing the fear away.

Her grandmother, Alin Petrosian, had done this. Since their first meeting, Jillian had visited her at Montage, Beverly Hills, and learned a lot about her people in Armenia and about her biological father. Her grandmother had also told her that a crime family in New York had murdered her father and Jillian had witnessed it. She'd only been seven at the time and couldn't remember a damn thing, but that wouldn't mean jack to anyone who wanted the truth buried. Lex had convinced her grandmother to keep their relationship quiet in case some overzealous thug connected the dots and realized Jillian was that same little girl. There was no statute of limitations on murder. But her grandmother was impatient for Jillian to embrace her heritage. Jillian already did. Everything about her father and his people fascinated her. She just didn't want the media circus that would follow if they did things her grandmother's way. The woman didn't understand the meaning of baby steps.

"What was my grandmother think—?"

Jillian bit her tongue when the security guy driving the cart cocked his head. She knew how word spread fast in show business. All it took was one careless word around someone people usually overlooked.

"This was your last stunt of the day, so head back to the hotel and lay low," Chris said when the cart stopped where the director and the others were waiting.

Jillian shook her head. "No, I'm okay. I'll stay in the trailer and drive back with you guys."

The crew stared at her, some glancing at their phones and tablets. The ones who'd been near the barricade whispered to the others. Probably filling them in on the latest _Jillian_ gossip. First was the imagined feud between her and Margo, which seemed to have died down since it was one-sided and senseless. Then there were pictures of her and Lex in the tabloids. Racy pictures. Now this.

Except for Chris' regular stunt crew, she didn't have a close relationship with the personnel or the stars on the set and hadn't told them about her grandmother or her upcoming wedding.

"What happened back there?" Barbs asked, hurrying toward them. Her husband wasn't far behind. When Jillian glanced back, security was pushing back the people who'd stormed the barricade.

"The fans are acting crazy," Chris said, but Jillian knew they couldn't hide the truth from the director and the producer for long. Besides, Barbs was friends with Lex's mother.

"Were you hurt?" Barbs asked.

"No, I'm fine," Jillian said. Her eyes locked with Barbs. "Someone leaked information to the media without talking to me first, and they got it wrong." She was no heiress or a princess. The nobles in Armenia had no power to brag about, just their lineage. She also had no interest in her grandmother's money even though the family owned a lucrative textile company and a thriving vineyard. She glanced at Chris, who was studying her with a frown. She gave him a brief smile. "I'll be in the trailer if you need me."

"Do we need to call Sorenson?" Barbs asked.

Phil Sorenson was the PR guy for Barbs and her husband's production company. Jillian didn't hear Chris' response. As she walked past the crew, whispers followed her. A few mentioned popular news channels that focused mainly on the movie industry. To cause those kinds of waves, her grandmother must have called someone higher up at some network to make the announcement. But then again, Alin Petrosian never did things quietly. That she didn't bother to call and give her a heads-up royally pissed off Jillian.

Troy fell in step with her, but Jillian didn't say anything. She wanted to get inside the trailer, lock the door, and shut out the world. She didn't deal well with stress.

Lucky for her, no one was inside the trailer. She threw the gloves on the couch with more force than necessary and started unbuttoning her suit, her movements jerky. She didn't realize she was cursing up a storm until her eyes fell on Troy. He was staring at her with wide eyes.

"Yeah, I fucking curse," she snapped. "Deal with it."

He grinned. "So do I. Uh, Mr. Fitzgerald called several times," Troy said tentatively. "He wants you to call him back."

She was too pissed to talk to Lex. She might say something she'd regret. "Not now," she murmured.

"Your grandmother—"

"Can go to hell on a damn camel. She's trying to manipulate me with this stunt."

"Mrs. Vivian Fitzgerald also called again."

Jillian growled. How she wished she hadn't given that woman her cell phone number. Three days of listening to her was enough to contemplate murdering her. Jillian had even agreed to a prenup just to shut her up. But if she continued to insinuate that Jillian wasn't good enough for her precious nephew, being Lex's aunt wasn't going to mean diddly-squat. She would let her have it.

"Delete her number," Jillian said.

Troy didn't bat an eyelid. "Your father called several times. Your brothers, too. They're worried and want to know if you are okay. Your brothers said they'll beat up any _no-good, bottom-dwelling piece of shit reporter_ who bothers you," Troy added. "I'm supposed to take pictures so they can ID them later."

Jillian shuddered at the thought. Her family might be loud and a bit crazy, but they didn't play when it came to her. Her brothers and cousins had beaten up a reporter who'd stalked her and ambushed her twelve years ago. She still didn't know how they'd escaped being charged. They wouldn't get lucky the second time around.

Then there was her father. He had worried about the Petrosian enemies finding Jillian. He'd even quit partnering with the Bay Area Circus in case these people tracked her to him, yet the circus had been his life. He must have been going nuts.

She took the phone and speed-dialed her father's number. Troy walked past her to Chris' room—as they now called the bedroom inside the trailer—grabbed a robe, and held it out to her. Only then did Jillian realize she'd stripped to her panties and bra. Heat crept up her face.

"Sorry. I'm not thinking straight right now," Jillian mumbled, shrugging the robe on and wrapping it around her.

Troy smiled. "Don't worry. I don't mind."

She did. It didn't matter that he was gay. "Thanks." She disappeared into Chris' room, where she'd left her regular clothes, just as her father picked up.

"Jilly? Are you okay?"

Tears rushed to her eyes at the love and concern in his voice. She was once again the little lost girl who'd needed reassurance and stability after months of moving from place to place with her mother. Daniel Finnegan had shortened her name even before he married her mother, and the nickname had stuck. It evoked all sorts of warm, fuzzy feelings.

"Yes, Daddy. I'm fine."

"Some idiot videotaped you doing a car stunt and made it seem like you were in an accident," her dad said. "The studio retracted their original statement, but the damage was already done. Mrs. Petrosian almost had a heart attack," he added with glee.

Jillian sighed. Her father and her grandmother couldn't stand each other. Her father was a salt of the earth type, who believed respectability came from hard work and doing right by your family. Mrs. Petrosian came from a royal bloodline, and even though she'd fallen in love with a regular Joe and married him, she still acted like bloodline and breeding set her apart from everyone. She also didn't approve of the way Jillian was raised. Motorbikes, stunts, and the circus were not appropriate pastimes for a Zakarian, she'd muttered several times in Jillian's presence. She'd been tempted to tell her they were not pastimes. It was how she earned her living.

"You were with my grandmother?" Jillian asked.

"Yes, and because of that stuck-up Fitzgerald woman, news of your connection to the Petrosians is all over the TV. Where do they find these wackos? What do they mean you were a circus rat?"

Jillian had gone into selective listening as soon as he'd mentioned the stuck-up Fitzgerald woman. "You talked to Lex's aunt?"

"Is that who she is?" her dad asked and shuddered audibly. "I always say meet the family first and make sure they are normal before marrying into it. There's something not right with that woman. She had the nerve to insinuate that I can't afford to pay for your wedding. You're my only daughter. Of course, I can pay for your wedding. I wed your mother in a beautiful ceremony, and your brothers' weddings were talked about for months afterward."

By circus clowns and trapeze artists. Jillian groaned and sat on the bed. Her father was talking about a civil union. She wanted a real wedding. It might sound childish, but a walk down the aisle, stepping on flower petals, and taking dainty steps with her father by her side until she reached Lex was her fantasy, damn it.

"Dad," she said weakly.

"The woman even dared to lecture me about the way I raised you, Jilly," her father continued. "Who tells a father that? A pompous, know-it-all windbag, that's who."

"What exactly happened between you and Mrs. Fitzgerald?"

Silence followed, and then he grunted. "She pushed my buttons, and I told her to shut her big mouth. No one talks to me like that."

Jillian tried hard not to laugh. She would have liked to see that. "How could you, Dad?" she asked in mock outrage.

"The woman's attitude annoyed me. By the time I was done, she wasn't looking down her nose at me anymore. She left to call your grandmother to confirm everything I'd told her. I'm a man of my word, but she just had to confirm it. Next thing I knew, she was talking to the reporters."

Why was she not surprised he was the instigator of all this mess? Yes, Vivian Fitzgerald rubbed people the wrong way, not just her father. Lex had warned her and so had his sister and cousins. But her father could be a total pain, too.

He was still talking, so Jillian plopped on the bed and went into selective listening. She sipped her water and listened to him rant while studying the ceiling of the trailer. Usually, she was the only one who could interrupt him when he got on his soapbox. Today, she didn't feel like it. Besides, it was nice to know she wasn't alone in her dislike of Vivian Fitzgerald.

Jillian studied the trailer. One couldn't tell by looking at the inside that it wasn't new. The wood paneling gleamed, and the carpet looked new. It had everything the stunt crew needed while at a location—big-screen TV, couches that pulled out to double beds, a kitchenette, a nice circular couch, a semi-circular table, two bathrooms, a bedroom, and bunk beds.

"I wanted to punch her on the nose, but we Finnegans don't hit women." Her father's voice pulled Jillian back to their conversation. "Lex Fitzgerald is lucky to have you in his life, and his entire family should know that."

Yeah, he'd offered her money to be his fake wife and she'd accepted it. Not exactly something to share with a father. She'd always be perfect in his eyes, even though she was far from it.

"I know, Dad," she said, hoping to placate him.

There was silence, and then he asked, "You are not going to make me a grandfather, are you, Jilly?"

Jillian choked on the water and sat up. "Dad! Where the hell did that come from?"

"Watch your mouth, young lady," he reprimanded her. "And it's crossed my mind. Not that I would complain if you were pregnant," he continued. "We can help you raise the child without you getting shackled to some blue blood, Jilly. I'll babysit. I'm retired now and have plenty of time for grandkids."

Jillian grinned. He was a wonderful grandfather to Sophia, her niece. "I would _not_ be doing stunts while pregnant, Dad. What an idea."

"Then what's the big hurry? Is he the one pushing you to marry so soon? It's not right. You know what they say about rash decisions and regrets."

"Lex is not like that, Dad. He's giving and nice, and a really great guy. I'm crazy about him."

"I'm crazy about Irish whiskey. You don't see me married to it. Get to know the man. His family. His values."

"I love him, Dad," the words slipped out, and Jillian blinked. Then she grinned. How had she not seen it? Saying them out loud just made her realize the truth. She hadn't agreed to marry Lex for real because of the sex or the money. In fact, she couldn't say when it had stopped being about sex. Her heart was his. "I love Lex Fitzgerald," Jillian added, grinning.

"I was afraid of that." Her father sounded resigned. He hadn't said anything about Lex since the day Jillian told him they were getting married. That was a little over a week ago. He'd made it clear he didn't approve of her announcement at the time, but she'd assumed that was all in the past, that he'd accepted her decision. Lex must convince him he loved her or her father was going to be difficult.

"I thought you were meeting with Lex's mother, not his aunt, to discuss the wedding," Jillian said.

"Aah, now that's a lady. Classy and lovely. She showed me where they'll hold the wedding and reception and asked for my approval. Then she drove me to this fancy restaurant and introduced me to the caterer. Nice girl. She did everything to accommodate our wishes." He chuckled. "Estelle is a good listener, too. She liked my idea about what other foods to serve and only tweaked them a little. She was gracious when she came to the house to meet our family, too. Won over everyone. She and I agreed on everything, except on two things."

Jillian was bemused. Her father never agreed with anyone on anything. He often had a list of complaints when he relented. She'd been sure he would be impossible to please. On the other hand, Lex's mother could sell sand to a desert sheikh. Jillian was sure she'd started planning their wedding the night Lex introduced them.

"Only two?" Jillian teased.

"The two of you shouldn't be rushing into marriage is the first one. I told her you should wait, but she insisted there was no need. She wants grandchildren." He chuckled. "So do I, but I can wait. I have a feeling that woman always gets her way."

Jillian's face warmed. She and Lex hadn't even discussed children. "And the second one?"

"She wanted to pay for the wedding. I told her no. The quotes from the caterer and the hotel were reasonable. They gave her a discount because all her children were married there."

Discount? Chances were a relative was catering the reception and a Fitzgerald owned the hotel, or Estelle had already paid for most of it. There was no way Estelle would use a cheap dive for Lex's reception.

"So everything will be ready by Saturday?" Jillian asked.

"Of course. I just wanted to confirm that this is what you wanted and, uh, to tell you how this mess with the reporters started."

"It's okay, Dad. I can deal with the paparazzi."

"That's my girl. Okay. Here, talk to your brothers."

"Did you say _fuck_ on national television?" Cian asked, and the smile disappeared from Jillian's face.

Oh crap! Her older brother was a pain. She was hoping to talk to Ricky. Ricky would have found all this amusing. Cian had no sense of humor.

"It was taken out of context, Cian. Technically, I didn't really _say_ it. I mouthed it."

INDULGE-CHAPTER 2

The footage zoomed in on Jillian's mouth.

Lex changed the channel, but most networks were talking about the Armenian princess with a potty mouth. Screw them. He loved her mouth. Loved when she talked dirty to him.

"Maybe she's like that character in _The_ _Princess Diaries_ ," a talk show host said and laughed. "She needs to be taught to talk, walk, and act like a princess."

Jillian was perfect the way she was. If it weren't for freedom of the press, he would sue the whole lot of them. Lex changed the channel again just as the private flight attendant entered the stateroom with a drink and placed it within his reach.

"Would you like anything else, sir?" she asked.

"No, Tina. Take care of the others." He still found it hard to believe he was getting married on Saturday. Then Jillian would be his forever. He couldn't wait.

Lex waited until the flight attendant closed the door before focusing on the screen again where a male host was speaking.

"There you have it, folks," he said. "A lost princess in America. What do we know of nobility in Armenia, Lindsey?"

"Not much, Jim," his co-host answered. "But we've confirmed that Ms. Finnegan is indeed the last direct descendant of Prince Zakare. Prince Zakare was..."

Not wanting a recap of Jillian's ancestry, Lex changed the channel again. This time, five women seated around the table were dissecting everything Jillian had supposedly done and said. No one knew Jillian like he did, and she was a lot more than the footage on national news. He had no idea what the program was called, but he recognized one of the hostesses.

"I don't think a girl who uses the F-word on national TV represents America," a blonde said. "She's royalty for heaven's sakes. She should act it."

A sputtering applause from the audience followed.

"Have you seen the footage?" a brunette hostess cut in, shooting the blonde a censuring glance. "She muttered the word under her breath. How many of us have done that?" She raised her hand and so did most of the audience. "Thank you. Now wave if you wouldn't mind being in her shoes." She laughed when the audience waved. "Personally, I don't think she's representing America. We leave that to Miss America. She's a lost princess that's just been discovered on our soil. We should cheer for her, not bring her down."

"That's true," the hostess with dreadlocks said while staring into the camera. "We don't know anything about this young lady, but we wish her luck, and we wouldn't mind having her come to our show to tell us about her journey. We'll be back after this message from our sponsors."

Lex reached for his phone and pressed a number. The phone was picked up after a ring. "When will your people go on the air?"

"In a minute," Rod said. "We're going live and streaming online. Five networks carry our channel, so this piece will go viral in no time. Several radio talk shows are also discussing it. Tune in, Fitz. We're going to turn her into an American sweetheart. You can write me a fat check later."

Which he would rip up. Roderick "Rod" Thorne was a longtime friend and the owner of a multimedia empire. Thorne Multimedia owned several radio and television stations, as well as weekly and monthly publications. Rod loved to yank Lex's chain for the fun of it. Lex switched channels to one of Rod's network just as the cameras zoomed in on two commentators. Behind them was XSN News.

"Good afternoon. This is Extreme Sports Network News at four," a female commentator announced. "I'm your host, Diana Ford."

"And I am Conrad Ryan," her companion said. "Tonight, we're going to deviate from our usual programming while staying true to our core audience—regular folks and their love for extreme sports."

"This story takes us to a small town in the west coast, where a family of daredevils took their act a step further and became icons," Liana said.

For the next several minutes, they showed a younger Jillian riding dirt bikes with her brothers, playing softball, and doing gymnastics. Then the clip changed to when she was in her teens working on various stunts with Chris and fixing bikes with her brothers. They summarized her growth from a tomboy to the budding teen Lex had seen on online videos a few weeks ago.

"Earlier today, footage showed Stuntwoman Jillian Finnegan perform one of the most daring stunts in Hollywood," the male host continued. "She flipped a speeding car with such ease I wished I'd been there to see it. But some dared to call her to task because she didn't want to talk to reporters about her personal life. Others claimed she cursed at them." He chuckled. "Rumors and false reports have filled the airwaves the last couple of hours about this young lady and her family, questioning her conduct, her upbringing, and her right to call America her home."

"We think she deserves to claim the titles Zakarian Princess and an American Sweetheart," the hostess added. "We'll let you decide."

The footage showed the Fearless Finnegans and the Bay Area Circus honoring military families at Fort Bragg Army Base. An entire family served as guest ringmasters. The father had just returned from a tour of duty. They showed them in Nevada at Nellis Air Force Base, Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, at some university in Fairfax, Virginia...

They wore red, white, and blue outfits, and flew an American flag as they entered the arena. Lex shifted in his seat as another clip showed Jillian on the wire, riding her bike while her sister-in-law performed aerial tricks below her. Seeing her and her brothers inside the Globe of Steel was both awe-inspiring and scary as hell.

The commentators returned with more stories and anecdotes about Jillian. The movies she'd appeared in and the causes she'd supported. Lex recognized her agent and Chris Lander at a gay-pride parade. In another, she was yelling the loudest while carrying a placard with a large red circle around Prop 8 and a line across it. Prop 8 was the infamous proposition against same-sex marriage in California.

Lex's phone buzzed, and he reached for it. "Where the hell did you get all this?"

Rod laughed. "I don't ask my people to reveal their sources. It's bad for business. Have I delivered or what?"

"You have. I owe you," Lex said, grinning.

"Can I have one night with the lovely Jillian?"

"Anything but her."

"Come on. We've shared before."

Lex stopped smiling. "I'm hanging up now before I forget what you just did and delete your number."

Rod laughed. "Say hi to the lovely Jillian for me."

Lex let the annoyance ebb, then dialed Jillian's number again. Rod liked to goof around, but there were certain things Lex didn't joke about. Any man touching Jillian was one of them. He didn't understand why she hadn't returned his call, but the piece Rod's people did should ease things a little for her. She must have been going nuts over this information coming out.

She picked up after a ring and whispered, "Lex."

Desire shot through him. The effect of her voice on him had only grown stronger. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"Yes. No. I wish you were here to wave your magic wand and make all this go away." She sighed dramatically. "It's like a zoo. I finished a stunt and the reporters shoved their microphones at me. Then I had to call Dad because I knew he was worried sick, and of course my brothers just had to put in their two cents about my swearing. How was I supposed to know the damn reporters could read lips? And now everyone knows about me and my Armenian connection, which sounds like I have a mob family." She laughed. "I'm being forced to hide from the paparazzi. I don't hide from anyone."

Lex tried hard not to laugh. He loved it when she swore. Made him want to make love to her mouth. Her openness was one of her endearing traits. He'd dated his share of women. Some played games. Others kept secrets. But not his Jillian. She didn't hide. She was raw, and real, and down-to-earth. She wasn't afraid to show her vulnerabilities or strengths, giving in to him without fear of losing herself or challenging him without turning it into a power play. She could be classy or raunchy depending on her mood. The best part was she kept her naughty side for the bedroom.

"Hide? Where?" he asked.

"Inside the trailer at the filming location. I'm done for the day, but the vultures are waiting to swoop in as soon as I leave."

Lex looked his watch. He should be with her in an hour. "I'll take care of them for you if you'd like."

Jillian chuckled. "You're not above the law, Lex. You can't have your people make calls and threaten to sue them. There's something called freedom of speech, and Canadians have it too. No, I'll come up with something."

He grinned. Three days apart and he'd missed her sassiness. She was the only woman, other than his mother, who could scold him when he offered to help them. He couldn't wait to surprise her.

"Are you saying you don't need me?" he asked.

She chuckled, the sound sexy and low. "I always need you."

And just like that, she switched to a temptress. "How much?" he asked.

"Wrong question, lover man," she shot back.

"Are you standing?"

"Reclining on a bed."

"Are you alone?"

"Just me and the walls," she whispered. "Stop playing twenty questions. Ask me what you want to know."

"Are you thinking about me right now?"

"What do you think? Your voice is in my ear, and the image of you is in my mind." She moaned. "Ask me what I'm doing?"

He imagined her hand sliding under her waistband as she touched herself. Lex swallowed. He wanted her. Every sound she made drove him insane with desire. Time to change the subject.

"How did this happen?" he asked. "I thought you and your grandmother agreed not to go public."

Jillian groaned. "You want to discuss my grandmother now? You're losing your touch."

"I'll make it up to you," he promised.

"So you've been saying since I arrived here." She sighed. "Okay. This whole mess started with my father and your aunt."

Annoyance surged through Lex. What had his aunt done now? He settled back against the pillow and listened to Jillian put all the blame on her volatile father. Lex knew better. His aunt could drive a sane man crazy. She must have done something to provoke Finnegan. It was time to have a long talk with his aunt Viv.

***

Eyes followed Jillian and Troy when they joined the stunt crew during lunch. She'd showered and changed and should be relaxed, but she wasn't.

As usual, her group was more boisterous than the rest of the personnel at the location. Either Chris had told them not to bother her or they really didn't care about all the princess/heiress stuff. Conversation focused on stunts until...

"So when were you going to give us the news?" Keith asked, joining them.

Silence followed, and Jillian wanted to kill him for putting her on the spot. Even the people at the neighboring tables grew quiet and angled their heads to catch her answer. Keith was the lead actor, yet he preferred to do his own stunts, a first among the actors Jillian had worked with. That had made her like him. Not anymore.

She faked ignorance. "News?"

"That you are part Armenian," he said. "I have friends in Yerevan. Beautiful city. Exotic food. If you ever visit, check out the Cascade. The sculptures at the base are amazing. Each piece was done by a different artist. Then there's the genocide museum. Very heartbreaking."

He was back in her graces. She didn't know anything about Armenia because her grandmother had talked mainly about their family.

"I just found out about my relatives in Armenia." Jillian glanced at the eyes not bothering to hide their curiosity. "I'd like to visit someday, but right now I have a lot to process." She didn't say, "So back off," but she hoped her expression made that clear.

She stood, and Troy followed her to the trailer. "You don't have to come with me. I'm going to lie down and watch some TV."

Troy showed her the magazine in his hand, and she groaned. Wedding magazines. A fashion-crazy gay assistant could be a curse sometimes. They'd narrowed the designers down to two in Vancouver and four back at home, but she would willingly skip the Vancouver ones. That was how pissed off she was.

"Do we have to do that now?" she asked.

"No, but you had a fitting"—he glanced at his watch—"thirty minutes ago and have another in an hour. Do you want to try to make the second one?"

Jillian made a face. The reporters would be waiting. "Nah."

"Okay, don't bite off my head, but those gowns were so a stuntwoman marrying a billionaire. Now we're talking princess wedding." Jillian glared at him, but Troy pretended not to notice. "That means reporters taking pictures," he continued. "Videotaping you. Your face on TV, magazines, and online. You need something more. I know people who know people. I could make calls."

Reporters on her wedding day? Jillian shuddered, feeling a little sick to her stomach. "What people?"

"Couture designers. I just need permission to go all out."

Jillian glanced at the crew they'd left in the catering tent, and her eyes met Chris'. He was worried about her. She waved to him as though she had her act together, took Troy's arm, and led him inside the trailer.

"Define all out," Jillian said, opening the fridge and reaching for bottled water. She threw Troy one and twisted the lid off her bottle. "And FYI, I didn't like your _stunt woman marrying a billionaire_ comment. He's very lucky I agreed to marry him."

"I should hope so."

Nice comeback. "You're forgiven." She hated that her insecurity was rearing its ugly head again. She blamed Lex's aunt. Lex's family was big on education. All the women had college degrees. Heck, his sister was a professor. What did Jillian have? A community college diploma in physical ed. She never cared about being book smart. She had plenty of talents, an accountant who kept an eye on her monies, and she diversified her investments, thanks to the advice from Chris. Listening to Vivian was screwing with her head. "What do you have planned?"

"Every designer is going to beg you to wear their creation. It's free publicity for them. I know assistants to some big names. All I need is your permission to say that you are looking for a wedding dress. You won't have to pay a dime."

Jillian knew couture designers threw clothes and jewelry at stars for free publicity. No one had ever offered her anything. "Me or _Princess_ Jillian?"

He gave her a cheesy grin.

She shot him a mean look. "Not happening. I'm not cashing in on something that's not me. Just reschedule the appointments I missed today."

While Troy made the calls, Jillian flipped through channels, looking for something to watch. Disgusted by the slim pickings, she turned off the TV. She hated seeing her face and hearing the comments. Instead of stressing about things, she needed to escape being cooped up in this trailer.

Jillian left for the makeup trailer. Penny Gilmore, an older makeup artist, didn't even blink when Jillian asked for a wig and makeup.

"Disguise?" Penny asked.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I've been in this business long enough to know when a star needs one."

"I'm not a star, Penny."

"You are in my book, sweetheart. And a class act." She pushed a bag in Jillian's hand. "You won't go wrong with these. If you need help, you know where to find me."

Wow, her heart warmed. Penny had never said more than two words to Jillian. Troy was done with his calls when she returned to the trailer. Her flight was in the evening, and she only had one stunt left, which was early in the morning. She would have time to check out the gowns. Maybe even ride her bike around Vancouver. She was often wired after a stunt, just like now.

Sex, exercise, or riding her bike often calmed her down. How she wished Lex was around. He could help her burn off some of the energy fast. Riding her bike would have to do. The paparazzi would not see her coming.

"Can you help me with these, Troy?" She dumped the contents of the bag on the couch. There was a wig, moustache, a beard, and bushy eyebrows.

"Let's talk about your clothes," Troy said as he worked on her face.

"Let's not," Jillian retorted.

"A princess cannot wear ripped jeans and sweatpants," he continued as though she hadn't spoken. "You have gorgeous hair, but—"

"If you ever call me a princess again, I will fire you, Troy Preston," she warned and meant it.

He stopped talking. When he was done with her face and hair, he stepped back and grinned. "Damn, I'm good. Take a look."

Jillian studied her reflection. The dark wig was perfect, but the moustache and eyebrows added a little something to her face. She looked androgynous.

"I would do you if you were a dude," Troy said.

"I would do me if I wasn't crazy about a certain billionaire." She wiggled her thick eyebrows and shot Troy a glance. "I'd be crazy to fire you."

"Do I get a raise?"

"After three days?" Jillian laughed and hugged him. "Don't think so. Oh, next time I go on a shopping spree, you're coming with." His eyes lit up. "As long as you don't criticize my choices. Nah-uh," she added when he opened his mouth to speak. "I like my jeans ripped, and sweatpants are comfortable."

He rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like, "We'll see," but she ignored him. She removed her shirt and let him flatten her breasts with the bandage. She shrugged on a T-shirt and then the leather jacket. She studied her reflection and grinned.

Perfect.

A reflection caught her attention, and she whipped around, her heart skipping. A man was walking toward the trailer. She recognized the broad shoulders. The powerful build. The walk.

Her heartbeat kicked into overtime. By the time she yanked opened the door, Lex was standing at the bottom of the steps. He radiated such raw sexuality her knees almost buckled. His eyes roamed her body, his stare intense and possessive. Her insides turned molten, and every cell in her body ignited.

Jillian did something she'd never done with a guy before, not even her father or brothers. She flew into Lex's arms, trusting him to catch her. Lex did just that and chuckled, the sexy sound rumbling through his chest.

"Now that's the kind of welcome a man could kill for," he whispered. "Even when his woman is dressed as a man."

Jillian leaned back, her eyes caressing his handsome face. She wanted him so much she couldn't breathe. "Why"—she swallowed—"why didn't you tell me you were on your way here?"

"And miss seeing you in clown paint again?"

She laughed and kissed him, holding his head in place as their mouths fused, and their tongues caressed and danced. Cupping the back of her head, he took over, showing her that despite the fact that she'd started the kiss, he was in charge. He kissed her hard, nipped her bottom lip, and soothed it with his tongue before sucking on her tongue.

A moan escaped her. Her skin tingled, and she felt a little faint. How she'd missed him. His scent. The feel of his arms. The texture of his skin. When she tried to lift her head, he followed. His lips didn't leave hers as he lowered her to the ground.

He wrenched his lips from hers, his body tense with need, the evidence of arousal pressing against her. The look on his face said he wanted to devour her.

Then he sneezed.

"Oh no. Are you coming down with something?" She placed the back of her hand against his forehead. "Do I need to take you back to my room, feed you cold meds, and tuck you in?"

He chuckled and pressed his forehead to hers. "Sure, after two orgasms," he whispered.

Heat pooled between her legs. "Three."

"Let's make it an even four." He skimmed her moustache. "You are bad for my reputation."

Jillian wrinkled her nose. "How?"

"I flew all this way to rescue you and look at you. You don't need me."

Oh, she needed him. She rubbed against him. "I told you, there are some needs I can't fulfill on my own."

"You could have fooled me last night."

Jillian laughed. The naughtiness he'd brought into her life was beyond her wildest dreams. "There's something about being watched by the man you're fantasizing about that's really inspiring."

"I'm happy to be your muse."

He brushed his thumb gently across her lower lip. She took his thumb in her mouth and nibbled on the tip. Lex groaned. His reaction thrilled her.

"You sing beautifully," he added.

"So do you," she whispered, hugging him and inhaling him. She screamed his name every time she reached orgasm. The two of them were combustible, and she couldn't wait to get him alone. She'd missed falling asleep with his scent surrounding her. Hell, she had missed making love with him. He kissed her again. This one was gentler, sweet. She sighed and reached for his cheek, caressing his warm skin.

His eyes moved lower to her chest, then back up to meet hers. Heat flared in his eyes. "I want my woman back."

"Come inside the trailer and she's all yours."

"No, we're going to the hotel. I don't intend to let you out of my arms for hours."

She needed him something bad. "You're going to make me wait?"

"Yes."

"Four big Os or Bobby is coming out to play," she warned.

He kissed her again. Hard this time. "Bobby only comes out when we are apart, and even then, I get to watch." He gripped her hand and glanced over her shoulder. "Can you find your way back to the hotel, or do you need a ride, Troy?"

Jillian glanced over her shoulder. She'd completely forgotten about Troy.

"If Ms. Jillian doesn't need my help with anything, I'd like to stay here until they finish filming, sir."

Ms. Jillian? They'd done away with formality on their first day together. Jillian threw Troy a wink. "Enjoy yourself." She planned to. Three days without Lex had left her starved. "And don't let Chris' grouchiness bother you."

Troy shrugged like it was nothing, but Jillian knew Chris' attitude bothered the younger man. Maybe she would talk to Chris again.

Lex led her to the parking lot, arm around her waist. Douglas didn't bat an eyelid when he saw her. Good ol' Doug. Nothing ever fazed the ex-CIA. He was Lex's security consultant slash bodyguard slash cook slash somebody you didn't mess with. He'd rescued her and Lex from her grandmother's overzealous partners, which earned him serious brownie points in her book.

The uniformed dude by his side probably came with the limo. He didn't hide his shock as he watched them approach. He probably thought she and Lex were a gay couple. He touched his hat and opened the door for them while Douglas stood on the side and faked a nonchalant posture, but his eyes gave him away. He was alert and prepared for anything.

"Hey, Douglas," Jillian said, and the driver's eyes widened in shock. A dude talking in a woman's voice would do that to you.

Douglas inclined his head. The poker face didn't change. "Ms. Jillian."

"Thanks for coming to my rescue." She planted a kiss on his cheek, and he winced. "Ooh, sorry. I completely forgot about your tooth. You still haven't taken care of it?"

"I did, Ms. Jillian. The dentist pulled it out."

"Did you take pain meds for it?"

"No, ma'am. I'm okay."

She rolled her eyes. Men. "I have some in my room at the hotel, so yeah, you will take some even if I have to force it into you." She threw him a challenging look. He nodded. "Was it hard getting past the press?"

"Nothing we couldn't handle. Pardon my observation, but I don't think you need rescuing, Ms. Jillian. You seem to have it covered."

"Yeah, I was planning on flying over their heads on my bike like hell on wheels." His lips twitched. Lex paled. He worried too much. She rubbed his back in soothing circles. "On the other hand, I didn't fool Lex, so I'm sure they would have seen right through me." She gave Douglas another smile. "Thanks for coming anyway."

She slid inside the cool interior of the limo. Lex spoke briefly with the two men before following her inside. The partition was already up, giving them the privacy they needed.

Lex's heated eyes stayed locked on her as the engine purred to life and the limo pulled away from the parking lot. She smiled, inviting him to play, but he didn't move. The tease. He was deliberately keeping his distance when she wanted him all over her. He always did that to draw out the tension between them. Sometimes she played along and let him get away with it, and other times she got too impatient.

She uncrossed and recrossed her legs and leaned back, grinning at the way his eyes followed her every movement. She crooked her finger.

He moved closer. "You didn't fool me because it doesn't matter what you wear. I'll always know it's you."

"How?"

His broad shoulders lifted and dropped. Then he reached out and stroked her cheek. She leaned into his hand, welcoming his touch.

"I know when you enter a room. When you fall asleep and the moment you wake up. When you want to make love, or when you just want to fuck."

"What do I want now?"

He traced her lower lip again, then moved to the top and touched her fake moustache. "Why don't you get rid of this and I'll show you?"

Her stomach dropped a little. She felt safe with the moustache. To get him off the subject, she turned her head, took his finger into her mouth, and sucked on it hard. A groan rumbled through his chest, his eyes growing fierce. She let go of his finger, pulling it out slowly, and kissed the tip.

"Is the moustache a turnoff?" she purred.

"No. You could be covered with fur and I'd still want to fuck your brains out."

She laughed throatily. "Is that what you plan to do to me?"

"For the next several hours." He cupped her face. "You don't need to be afraid of the reporters, Jillian. I'm here now."

Easy for him to say. He'd probably been talking to the press since he was old enough to say his name. If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that her reluctance to visit Armenia was deeply rooted in her issues with reporters and their intrusiveness. Her grandmother would parade her around, and she would have to talk to them.

"I'm not afraid," she fibbed.

Lex interlaced their fingers and lifted her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss on her knuckles. "I'll not let anyone hurt you."

He could reassure her all he wanted, but in the end, she'd have to face her demons alone. She jumped from burning buildings and flipped cars, yet reporters scared the crap out of her. She had reasons for that.

Lex lifted her chin and studied her face. Concern turned his gray eyes into molten mercury, and she realized why. She was gripping his hand tightly, probably cutting the circulation to his fingers. She relaxed hers and gave him a tiny smile.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," he said.

"Do you have senseless fears?" she asked.

"No." She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled. "I mean I have fears, but I don't consider them senseless. They're rooted in something."

It was hard to imagine him scared of anything. "So what makes the great Lex Fitzgerald shake in his custom-made boots?"

"Clowns."

Was he serious? "Clowns?"

"If you laugh, I'm going to make you really, really sorry," he threatened.

She bit her inner cheek to stop from laughing. "Sorry how?"

"Tie you to my bed and not let you leave the room for a week."

She grinned. "I could work with that."

He chuckled. "I was seven when I sneaked into my parents' bedroom instead of going to sleep. They were watching a movie about a clown serial killer." He grimaced. "I slept with them that night and the next night. My father was big on conquering one's fears, so he took me to the circus often so I'd see that clowns were harmless. It didn't help. I've watched every clown movie ever made to desensitize myself, but nothing works."

The poor, adorable man. "You call my makeup clown makeup," she said, elbowing him. "Does that mean I scare you?"

"In ways you couldn't possibly understand." He lowered his head to kiss her, but stopped just before their lips met, angled his head, and sneezed again.

He had to be allergic to synthetic hair. Forget about the stupid disguise, her insecurities, and the damn reporters. She wanted his mouth on her. She peeled off the moustache, the eyebrows, and the wig, and shook her hair.

"Kiss me now," she said.

He chuckled. "Is that a request?"

It had come out like a plea. "No, an order."

"Then how can I possibly refuse?" He cupped her cheeks and captured her mouth. The kiss wasn't slow or dreamy, both of which he could do easily. It was wet and hungry, flooding her veins with heat.

The taste of him went straight to her head as his tongue slid against hers. He nipped at her lower lip, causing her to gasp. Pain and pleasure shot through her, and she welcomed it. He leaned back, pulling her to him. Her tongued flicked across the corner where his lips met, then along his lower lip, savoring the texture, but he wasn't in the mood to play. He captured her mouth again on a soft groan, completely taking over her senses. Jillian couldn't get close enough to him. Her breasts ached behind the bandages, begging for his touch. Her panties were soaked.

He pulled her onto his lap and threaded his fingers through her hair, his touch not gentle. She didn't need gentle. The combination of a stunt and Lex's unexpected arrival was like a double dose of adrenaline. She needed primal. Hot. Hard. Roughness around the edges.

He tore his mouth from hers and blazed a trail along her neck, at the same time angling her body so she sat facing forward with her back to him. He swept his hand along her waist, pushing her shirt out of the way and reaching under her pants. The loose man pants gave him plenty of room to move.

He ran the tips of his fingers along the edge of her panties. She trembled and tilted her hips, inviting him to play her. She was taut like a fine instrument, and he was the master. She needed those fingers to get to work.

"Touch me," she begged, leaning against him as he bit her ear, his breath hot on her nape.

A growl worked its way up his chest as he moved lower over her silk panties. "I was wrong."

"About?"

"Waiting until we got to the hotel. I need this." His hand stroked the wet silk panel. "I want you naked. My mouth on you." His lips mapped her neck. "I've thought of nothing else since we spoke on the plane. Would you like to come in my mouth?"

" _Yes._ "

"You will. You'll sing for me, Jillian. Because nothing makes me happier than hearing my name on your lips. I'll take you fast, then slow." He nipped her skin, and she shuddered. "For now, you'll have to settle for this." He pushed aside the wet fabric and ran his fingers across her swollen clit.

Jillian gasped as sparks shot up her spine. She loved his fingers. They were long and talented, and gave the most amazing orgasms. Her head fell back on his shoulder, her eyes closing. He slid a finger inside her, and her thighs tightened around his hand, an instinctive reaction to the invasion.

"Open up, babe," he ordered, his powerful thighs wedging between hers from behind.

She let her knees fall open for him, lifted her hips, and wished she wasn't wearing anything. He slid in the second finger, and a moan escaped her, the sound reverberating around the limo. The sensations were intense. It was one thing to pleasure herself while he watched from miles away and quite another to have his hands on her.

His breathing grew heavy, his erection pressing on her butt cheeks. He drove his fingers in and out of her wetness, plundering her, playing her like a fine-tuned instrument. Her breathing grew harsh as she egged him on with gasps, moans, and the wiggle of her hips. And boy did she sing for him, yelling out his name as he pushed her over the top.

Those beautiful fingers did not stop moving. The strokes became gentle, his other hand angling her head so he could capture her mouth in a searing kiss. Reluctantly, he let go of her throbbing flesh and cradled her close. Tremors still shot through her body.

"One down," she murmured when she could speak.

A chuckle worked his way to his lips. That sexy sound did things to her insides. She wanted him naked now. She reached for his belt, but he stopped her.

"We are at the hotel," he warned.

When had they stopped moving? He waited as she adjusted her pants and finger-combed her hair. Then he tapped the window. Douglas opened the door. He must have been waiting for the signal, which meant she was probably not the first woman Lex had tried to ravish in the back of a limo.

The green monster rose from deep inside her, but she pushed it back. Being jealous of Lex's past girlfriends was pointless. She had him now, and she planned to be the last woman he ever touched.

A crowd of photographers was outside the hotel. This time, the questions were hurled at Lex, too. Were they engaged? When was the wedding? How did they meet?

Douglas and the driver shielded them. Even the desk managers came to the door to warn the paparazzi to stay back.

"Enjoy your stay, sir," one of them said.

"I plan to," Lex said and traded a grin with Jillian.

***

DOWNLOAD INDULGE

 http://www.author-ebwalters.com/#!infinitus-billionaire/ceeo

NEXT IN SERIES: PRE-ORDER INTRIGUE

MEET THE REST OF THE BILLIONAIRES

Roderick "Rod" Thorne (Rod's story is next):

**Owns** : Media company with newspapers, TV, and radio stations

**Height** : 6ft 3in.

**Physical appearance** : Long shaggy hair, amber eyes, body of a weight-lifter

**Socially:** Charming, self-absorbed, the jokester in the group

**Quirks:** Gets bored easily, loves extreme sports of any kind, comfortable in jeans and T-shirts

**Meet Rod here:** <http://bit.ly/RoderickThorne>

Sloan Noelle:

**Owns** : Lingerie line

**Height** : 6ft 4in.

**Physical appearance** : brown wavy hair, aquamarine eyes with brown specs, a beard, wears glasses, lean, surfer body, a few tats over scars

**Socially** : Quiet and introverted, very private

**Quirks** : Hates champagne, loves tea, and doesn't swear, surfs a lot, wears sailor shirts and shorts/pants

**Meet Sloan here** : <http://bit.ly/SloanNoelle>

Dominic "Dom" Manos:

**Owns:** Oil company

**Height** : 6ft 4in.

**Physical app** : Long black hair, darker/swarthy complexion, broad shoulders, most often has a beard, honey-brown eyes.

**Socially** : Rough around the edges, goes out of his way to make people squirm

**Quirks** : Loves cigars and using his hands to create and fix things, comfortable in boots, jeans, and T-shirts, drives a truck

**Meet Dom here:** <http://bit.ly/DominicManos>

Rake Ashworth:

**Owns** : Telecommunication empire with several satellites

**Height** : 6ft 2 in.

**Physical appearance** : nicely trimmed beard, wavy hair, light-green eyes, tribal tattoos (full sleeve)

**Socially** : A brooder, a perfectionist, swears a lot, doesn't care if people like him or not. Hates parties.

**Quirks** : Private, doesn't drink or smoke, likes to be in control, dresses in custom-made suits

**Meet Rake here** : <http://bit.ly/RakeAshworth>

Cade Padwick:

**Work** : Social media guru and a computer genius.

**Height** : 6ft 2in.

**Physical appearance:** short-cropped black hair, silver eyes, tattoos galore

**Socially** : Women can't resist his gorgeous eyes

**Quirks** : hacks into websites to relieve boredom, gets bored easily

**Meet Cade here** : <http://bit.ly/CadePadwick>

Aiden Bradford:

**Owns:** Imports-exports custom-made luxury cars

**Height** : 6ft 2in.

**Physical appearance** : Light brown/blond hair, icy-blue eyes, built like a model, dimples

**Socially** : Charming British accent women find irresistible

**Quirks:** refined tastes in clothes, cars, and women

**Meet Aiden here** : <http://bit.ly/AidenBradford>

Lucien Mortenson:

**Owns** : Gaming and software company

**Height** : 6ft 1in.

**Physical appearance** : Golden-blond hair, sky-blue eyes, body of a runner

**Socially** : Loves to party, falls in and out of love often

**Quirks** : Hacks into websites when bored too, loves fast cars and designer clothes.

**Meet Lucien here** : <http://bit.ly/LucienMortenson>

SPECIAL MESSAGE FROM EDNAH WALTER

I hope you enjoyed meeting Lex Fitzgerald and Jillian Finnegan. Please consider leaving a review. Reviews can make a difference in the ranking of a book on Amazon, iTunes, and other retail sites. To be updated on which billionaire's story is coming your way, giveaways, teasers, and deleted scenes, join my newsletter. <http://bit.ly/EBWaltersNewsletter>

For the discussion about the series, join my private page on FB: <http://bit.ly/LetsTalkBillionares>

I like to hear from readers, so drop me a line.

E.B. Walters' Website: http://www.author-ebwalters.com

Follow E.B. Walters in Facebook: <http://bit.ly/EBWaltersFans>

Follow E.B. Walters on Twitter: <http://bit.ly/EBWTwitter>

Follow E.B. Walters Blog: http://enwalters.blogspot.com

Visit Her YA website: www.ednahwalters.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ednah Walters holds a PHD in Chemistry and is a stay-at-home mother of five. She is also a USA Today Bestselling Author. She writes about flawed heroes and the women who love them. Her Contemporary Romance international bestselling The Fitzgerald Family series, that started with Slow Burn and has a total of six books in this series-to her new USA Today Bestselling series Infinitus Billionaire: Impulse (book 1) published was in January 2015. Indulge (book 2) released in August 4th, 2015 and Intrigue (Book 3) to be released early 2016.

She also writes YA Paranormal Romance as Ednah Walters. Her award-winning, International bestselling Runes Series started with Runes and has a total of 6 books in this series. The latest, Witches, released in March, 2015 and her most recent addition Demons, A Runes Companion Novel. Eirik Book1, The story of Raine's best friend and former crush Eirik Seville, to be released on December 15th, 2015. And her YA Urban Fantasy international bestselling series The Guardian Legacy- , that started with Awakened and has a total of 4 books in this series. The latest Forgotten, released in June 2015 (which focuses on the Nephilim, children of the fallen angels. Whether she's writing about Valkyries, Norns, and Grimnirs, or Guardians, Demons, and Archangels to her love, family, and friendship play crucial roles in all her books

