Page 7 of Traitorous Lies
A poor imitation of what it would feel like to have Jaxon’s hands or mouth worshipping her skin.
“Monique?”
“Oh, umm, no, a driver brought me,” she answered, knowing she was bright red and positive he knew the cause of her blush.
“Can you cancel the car, and I’ll take you back to your hotel later?”
“Of course.” It was easy enough, although she was sure it would getback to her grandparents that she’d dipped out of the event a mere forty minutes into it. They’d be disappointed, and in return, she’d be upset that she’d let them down. Since her dad had basically disappeared from her life as soon as her mom bailed on them, her grandparents were the closest thing she had to parents, even if she’d mostly been raised by nannies.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I didn't mean to pressure you.” Jaxon’s hand lifted to palm her cheek, and nuzzling into it was the easiest thing in the world.
“You didn't pressure me, and I do want to leave with you,” she assured him. “I’ll text the driver in the car.” The cool air was quickly becoming cold, and since she was dressed only in this ridiculous ball gown that couldn’t be less her, she wasn't really protected from the icy wind.
“Here.” Something warm and soft dropped onto her shoulders, and she realized that Jaxon had taken off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her. Not only did it cut out the cold wind, and feel delectable against her skin, but it also smelled just like him, and she snuggled it closer and drew in a deep breath.
Feeling Jaxon’s eyes on her, Monique lifted her head to meet his gaze. There was something unreadable in his expression, but there were also things she could read. The most prominent being desire.
He was attracted to her. Because of her last name or because of her, she wasn't sure. Then again, he’d seemed impressed that she ran an animal rescue and was there to raise money for it. And she’d been clear she wasn't into stuffy, boring, rich guys. Even though she knew he had to be one of them, he was there after all, he didn't feel like it.
Jaxon felt like …
She wasn't even sure.
Something cozy, like snuggling up in front of a fire on a freezing winter’s night.
Which was insane since she didn't even know his last name. Still, she couldn’t deny that something buzzed between them, and if he was willing, she’d like to see where it could go.
“Sir.”
They both startled when a valet appeared beside them, holding out aset of keys to Jaxon, who took them, then reclaimed his grip on her hand and guided her down the steps, and to the passenger seat of his car.
Once he was inside, he got the heat going, and Monique supposed she should offer him his jacket back, but she didn't. It would probably be too creepy to ask if she could keep it as a reminder of this magical night, so she pressed her lips together as Jaxon drove them down the long, tree-lined driveway.
“Tell me about yourself,” Jaxon’s voice rumbled through the dark car as they headed off down the road away from the remote country estate.
“What did you want to know?” Monique shifted slightly in her seat so she could see him better, and she all but melted when he shot her a charming smile.
“Everything.”
Laughing, she tugged the jacket tighter around herself, imagining that it was Jaxon’s arms around her, and pretending that he wanted to know everything about her because he felt this pull as much as she did. “I’d like to learn about you, too. Maybe we could trade off? Each ask the other a question, one for one?”
For a second his hands tightened on the steering wheel, and she got the uneasy feeling that talking about himself was the last thing he wanted to do.
Had she made a mistake in trusting him?
With her family’s money, she should be more careful when it came to her safety, only the thing was, Jaxonfeltsafe. Safer than anything else she’d ever experienced.
His hands relaxed, and he shot her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, it’s just weird how much I really want to know the tiniest things about you. Wasn't expecting that to happen.”
“Me either,” Monique acknowledged as she relaxed. That was why he’d seemed off for a moment, he was overcome by the same feelings she was. She wanted to know literally everything about this man. Big stuff, little stuff, all of it. This might not be love at first sight, but it was certainly a connection at first sight, if that was even a thing.
“You can ask first,”he offered.
Since a million questions ran through her head, she picked one at random. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-one.”
“So five years older than me, practically an old man,” she teased, making him laugh. “Your turn.”
