Chapter 43

The day is tiring, and my hair has endlessly stuck to my face in this humidity. Vegas is hot and dusty
and I’m still grumpy and tired. We flew out here right after Sophie was taken away by the care worker
and Jake’s mother, Sylvana Carrero. The beautiful, kind goddess, who looks so alarmingly like her son,
but in a very feminine way. I love her in every way; anytime I meet her, she has this easy charm and
stunning green eyes and the ability to put you at ease, much like he does.

I fought tears when hugging Sophie goodbye; our time together so short, yet she has come to mean so
much to me. Jake bought her a new cell and pre-set both of our numbers and emails into it as a parting
gift, that way we can always stay in touch and she knows we will be there if she needs us. We are to be
her eternal guardians in life, and I know that from this day on, I will always be in Sophie’s story. We
have a bond like no other. We understand each other.

“Want to try the casinos, tiny?” his voice comes up behind me as I empty out my suitcase onto my bed,
looking for a change of clothes, anything to relieve the stickiness of my suit. We arrived in such a rush
that neither of us have unpacked yet, normally housekeeping do such things in our absence but this
time they haven’t. I hate incompetence in one’s job.

“I’m still tired, I think I’ll have a bubble bath and go to bed.” I sigh.

“First time in Vegas, and you want to go to bed? Bambino, No! You gotta live a little.” He sounds
frustrated with me; it’s been a hell of a long week by normal standards and I’ve been free falling for
days. I can’t keep up the pace like he can. Jake has no sense of exhaustion—Ever!

“Would you rather I stay out late with you, then pout for the entire morning like I did on the plane?” I
was probably the most irritated, grumpy person I have ever been on that flight, reeling with emotions
about Sophie, my mother, Ray Vanquis. Trying to ignore memories of kissing my boss and going pie-
eyed over him on that brief trip. Thankfully, I seem to have normalized a little in his presence again.
The kiss not such a bright burning memory as it has been and allowing me to detach a little from it.



“I’m sure I can have the hotel bring me a bag for your head, so I don’t have to see it.” He grins, raising
a cheeky eyebrow. Everyone back to normal.

“Nice … Charming. As understanding as always Jacob!” I pout again, sighing.

“Less of the Jacob or I’ll put you over my knee. Come out with me.” He’s in boyish pleading mode now.
Tugging at my hair in a bid to annoy me into a yes.

Bored, Jake, darling?

I don’t know where he gets his boundless energy; it’s after nine at night and we’ve had a day of
grueling appointments, boring meetings, a late business dinner, and now he wants to go play. Has he
no clue of how much of an emotional roller coaster I have been on lately.

“Don’t you have any Vegas hotties lined up yet?” I sass him demurely; of the vast number of women he
has tucked at every port, I often wonder in awe that he manages to find half of them with extraordinarily
little effort. I guess being drop dead gorgeous, built like an underwear model, and rich, has its own
perks.

My own suggestion for him to find a date grates on my nerves, rattling me inside. A little jealousy
raising its head and I bite it back down. I have no idea why I even suggested it.

“I don’t want a Vegas hottie tonight. I want my pouty PA to let her hair down and come kick back with
me.” He moves in closer, so his warmth radiates along the back of my neck and it makes my skin
tingle. His familiar aftershave surrounding me in a very disturbing way.

“I was under the impression I already did.” I ruffle my loose hair to make the point; lately I’ve been too
tired to tie it up at all. Its length has been annoying me too and I keep thinking I may get it cut shorter,
maybe shoulder length.



“You know what I mean, sassy pants.” He mock chucks me on the chin with a smile.

“You pay me to be bright and chipper at your meetings.” I try a wavering smile, turning to look at him
over my shoulder as he walks away to lift his cell from the charging dock. I’m trying to express my
tiredness as I flutter at him coquettishly.

“I pay you to do what I say … And right now, it’s to come out with me. I want to go play. Get drunk and
feel up my sexy PA.” He throws his charming wink over at me and walks back, cell in hand, moving
closer in behind me, his presence invading through the thin material of my blouse. He’s almost
touching me, his heat radiating alarmingly. I have been way more sensitive to him since our sleep kiss
and it’s throwing me all out of whack these past few days, especially as his touchy-feely hands-on self
seems a lot more so.

“We both know that’s not on the cards; besides, I didn’t bring anything to wear to a casino, Jake.” I lie, I
know there’s a black cocktail dress in the suitcase. I’m always under order to carry a dress for an
impromptu dinner or party when we travel. He leans past me, pulling my dress out, like an eagle with
his eye on prey at a distance. Lifting it up to let it roll loose and hangs in the air between us accusingly.

Hmmm, busted!

“Perfect! Sexy dress, for little sexy Emma.” He drapes it over my shoulder and slaps my butt with a
swift sharp smack. I squeak in protest and throw him a haughty look.

“Put it on, I’ll be five minutes max.”

I sigh heavily. Ordered about by him again! In Jake terms, he will be more like twenty minutes. I can’t
even argue. I exhale again, more defeatedly this time and sag, knowing that he’s in his delightful
stubborn mode and I’ll get no say; arguing is pointless. I really am tired, and I want to go to bed; the
last thing I need is a tight dress, alcohol mixed with the proximity of my boss when he’s in flirt mode



and I’m struggling to control my hormones around him. I make a habit of avoiding him in drunk mode,
ever since the kitchen kiss. Drunk Jake just makes me wary, he loses even more of his inhibitions, if
that is even possible and I have no idea how to deal with him if he gets a little amorous. Or I do.

* * *

I grimace as I catch sight of myself in the mirror; once again Donna has excelled herself and I chastise
myself for not trying this dress on before this trip. It’s tight and short and revealing. My stilettos do
wonders for my legs, but I feel a little naked. It has no sleeves, just thin straps and a fitted bust, leading
down to a tight figure-hugging knee-length skirt. It’s mainly made of lace with an under layer retaining
my modesty, but the result is slinky, in a non-slut way. Well, maybe a little slutty. I’m all boobs.

I brush my hair and leave it down in a bid to try to cover some of my exposed shoulders and cleavage.
It waves naturally, coming down to my elbow. Make-up is darkened and smoky. I’m ready unusually
fast, still with a deep knot of anxiety in my lower stomach and fidget impatiently.

Jake strolls back in wearing his favorite black shirt, open at the neck and black trousers. Effortlessly
suave. He always looks amazing in black and his eyes practically glow with green coolness. He seems
to falter as he catches sight of me, frowns, and adjusts his cuff, averting his eyes. He says nothing at
first, before setting a normal smile on his face before looking me over once again.

This is a bad idea; I can feel it already. I want my suit, my hair tied up and my cool and in control mask
back in place.

“You look stunning, Emma … May have to beat off a few men tonight on your behalf. Pee on you and
mark my territory.” He grins at me as I blanch in disgust.

“Ewww, hell no!”



He checks his hair in the mirror over the mantle one more time, before reaching a hand out to me. His
eyes still skimming me with a look that he never throws my way—appreciation. Not flirty Jake eyefuls,
like he normally does, but serious, eye skimming, checking me out. I swallow down the nerves, no idea
why I’m this uneasy and accept it. He takes my hand and pulls me toward the door before I can argue,
always so overbearing when his minds made up.


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