Afterburn & Aftershock: Afterburn / Aftershock. Sylvia Day

GRABBED MY purse out of my desk drawer before I headed up to reception, clutching it like a talisman that would hurry me away from Jax before he realized who I was. The walk up to the front seemed to take a very long time.

      It was a tough pill to swallow, realizing he still affected me so strongly. He’d only been part of my life for a short time. I’d had two other lovers since him and thought I had moved on.

      He was studying a display of our bestseller cookbooks when I rounded the corner and my breath caught. His tall, powerful frame was now shown off to full advantage in an expertly tailored suit, a sign of respect for Lei I couldn’t help but appreciate. I’d never seen him dressed so formally in person. We’d met at a bar, of all places. I’d gone out with some classmates, and he was attending a bachelor party.

      I should’ve known it wouldn’t turn out well.

      But God, he was magnificent. His dark hair was close-cropped on the sides and back, slightly longer on the top. His eyes were a brown so dark they were nearly black. Thickly lashed, they were relentless in their intensity. Had I really thought they were soft and warm? I’d been blinded by that lush, sensual mouth and wicked dimple. There was nothing soft about Jackson Rutledge. He was a hard and jaded man, cut from a ruthless cloth.

      He raked me from head to toe with a slow, intense look that made my fingers flex as I approached him.

      It was well-known that he was a connoisseur of women. I told myself I could be anyone and get that look from him, but I knew better. My body remembered him. Remembered his touch, his scent, the way his skin felt against mine...

      From the way he was looking at me, the same recollections were heating his blood, too.

      “Hello, Mr. Rutledge,” I greeted him formally, because he still hadn’t acknowledged that he knew who I was. I spoke each word carefully, in a controlled voice not quite my own. I usually didn’t have to think about sounding too Brooklyn anymore, but he made me forget myself.

      He made me want to forget everything.

      “Ms. Yeung will be out in just a moment,” I continued, deliberately stopping a few feet away from him. “I’ll show you to the conference room. Can I get you some water? Coffee? Tea?”

      His chest expanded with a deep breath. “Nothing, thank you.”

      “This way, then.” I passed him, managing a strained smile for LaConnie as I walked by her. I could smell him, that subtle hint of bergamot and spice. I could feel his gaze on my back, my ass, my legs. It made me hyperconscious of my walk, which made me feel awkward.

      He didn’t say a word, and I was afraid to, my throat too dry to make speech comfortable. I felt a terrible yearning—the almost desperate need to touch him the way I’d once had a right to. It was hard to believe I’d had him in my bed. Had him inside me. How had I ever had the courage to take on such a man?

      I was relieved when we reached the conference room, the door handle feeling blessedly cool as I pushed it down.

      His breath gusted softly over my ear. “How long are you going to pretend you don’t know me, Gia?”

      My eyes slid closed as he purred the name only he had ever used.

      Pushing the door open, I stepped inside, holding on to the handle so there was no mistaking that I wouldn’t be staying.

      He walked right up to me, standing face-to-face. He was a little more than a head taller—even though I wore heels. His hands were in his pockets, his head bowed over me. He was in my personal space. Too intimate. Far too familiar.

      “Please step back,” I said quietly.

      He moved, but not in the way I wanted. His right hand slid out of his pocket, and then down my arm, from elbow to wrist. I felt his touch through the silk of my navy blouse and was grateful that the long sleeves hid the goose bumps.

      “You’ve changed so much,” he murmured.

      “Of course. Enough that you didn’t recognize me earlier.”

      “Jesus. You think I didn’t know it was you?” He turned away, but that didn’t lessen his impact. The back view was just as splendid as the front. “You could never hide from me, Gia. I’d recognize you blindfolded.”

      Shock and confusion held my tongue for a moment. We’d gone from distant and impersonal to searingly intimate in a heartbeat. “What are you doing here, Jax?”

      He walked to the windows and looked out at New York. In the near distance, Central Park was a splash of green already touched with autumn-red and orange, a vibrant burst of color in a concrete jungle. “I’m going to offer Lei Yeung whatever it takes to make her go play in someone else’s sandbox.”

      “It won’t work. This is personal.”

      “Business should never be personal.”

      I stepped back toward the threshold, eager to escape. The conference room was spacious and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows on one side and clear glass on the other. The walls at either end were a soothing pale blue, with an expensively stocked bar to the right and a huge display screen to the left. Still, Jax dominated his surroundings, making me feel caged.

      “Nothing’s personal, right?” I said, remembering how he’d just failed to show up one day. And every day after that.

      “Things were between us,” he said, his deep voice husky. “Once.”

      “No, they weren’t.” Not for you...

      He turned abruptly, causing me to take another cautious step back even though we stood a room apart. “There are no hard feelings, then. Good. There’s no reason not to pick up where we left off. My meeting with Yeung won’t take long. When I’m done we can head to my hotel and get reacquainted.”

      “Fuck you,” I snapped.

      His mouth curved, revealing that delicious dimple. Oh, how that changed him, concealing how dangerous he was with a touch of boyish charm. I hated that playful little indentation as much as I adored it.

      “There you are,” he said, with an unmistakable note of triumph. “You almost had me fooled into thinking the Gia I knew was gone.”

      “Don’t toy with me, Jax. It’s beneath you.”

      “I want you beneath me.”

      I’d known he would say that, if I opened the door, but I’d had to hear it. I had to hear him spell it out. He was direct when it came to sex, sensual and natural as an animal. I loved it, because I’d been that way with him, too.

      Greedy. Insatiable. Nothing else had ever made me feel as good.

      “I’m seeing someone,” I lied.

      Visually, he didn’t bat an eye, but somehow, I got the impression that struck a nerve. “That Williams guy?” he asked too casually.

      “Hello, Mr. Rutledge,” Lei said, sweeping in on her killer Jimmy Choo slingbacks. “I’m going to assume this is a pleasant surprise.”

      “It can be.” He turned his attention to her so completely, I felt dismissed.

      “I’ll leave you two to it,” I said, walking out. Lei’s gaze caught mine and I understood the silent message. We’d be talking soon.

      I didn’t look at Jax again, but I still got the same message from him.

      * * *

      I called Chad Williams as soon as I passed through the turnstiles in the lobby. “Hey,” I said when I heard his smooth Southern drawl. “It’s Gianna.”

      “I was hoping you’d call.”

      “Do you have dinner plans?”

      “Ah—I can break them.”

      I smiled, feeling a little guilty about preempting whoever was going to be ditched, but it felt good to have a little ego-stroking.