Page 4 of Tempt Me
Jase smirks. “Well, that explains it.”
I blush. The Mainwaring’s are one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Boston. They have museum rooms and hospital wings named after them, and as the heir to the fortune, Max gets written up in the society pages all the time. Of course, I didn’t know any of that when we first met. It wasn’t until the third date, when he picked me up in a vintage Aston Martin and took me out for a picnic on his private yacht that I realized I was in way over my head. It’s been a whirlwind from day one; he proposed on our three-month anniversary, and even looking at his ring on my finger, it doesn’t really feel real.
“When’s the big day?” Jase asks. He grabs a cookie and blows on it to cool.
“Not until next year,” I reply. “We just got engaged, and there’s a lot to plan.”
“Big society to-do, huh?”
I nod, my heart sinking just at the thought. “I wish we could just elope,” I find myself confiding. “But it’s important to his family. They have traditions.”
“Like the rock,” Jase says. I look up, surprised.
“How did you know?”
He chuckles. “Simple, sweetheart, it’s not your style.” Jase strolls closer, “You’re not flashy or hungry for attention. You’re simple. Elegant. Beautiful.”
He fixes those blue eyes on me, and suddenly, I feel my heart beating faster.
I quickly back away. “Can I show you the apartment?” I blurt, my voice sounding weirdly high-pitched.
Jase smiles, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Why not?”
“It’s a converted warehouse space, lots of light, great open space...” I babble my way through the listing, showing him around. And even though I’ve done nothing wrong, I can’t help feeling guilty every time I register how his vintage T-shirt pulls across the thick curve of his biceps... or how the muscles in his back ripple under the thin fabric when he reaches up to test the window frame.
His body is incredible, coiled with raw animal power. I wonder how it would feel, pressing me into the mattress...
Hold it right there. What are you doing, drooling over a complete stranger? You’re engaged to the man of your dreams!
I push the thought away and try to focus on the job right in front of me. We finish the circuit of the main floor and wind up by the front door again. “Have you been apartment-hunting for long?” I do my best to sound professional—and not like I’ve been scoping out his ass.
Jase shrugs. “Off and on. I get bored, stuck in one place for too long. I like to keep things interesting.”
“And what are you really looking for?” I ask.
“Well,” Jase smirks. “You already know I like sexy brunettes who bake.”
I flush. “I meant the apartment.”
He chuckles. “I know you did, sweetheart.”
For once in my life, I wish Marcie would interrupt, but she’s latched onto a wealthy-looking trust-fund kid with his parents in tow, and I know she’s already counting her commission.
“Are you going to take me to bed?”
My head snaps back around. Jase is waiting. “The bedroom,” he says, looking amused. “Is it up those stairs?”
“Oh. Yes.” I look over. The master suite is set back on a mezzanine level, away from the main space. Totally private. “You should go ahead and look around yourself,” I tell him briskly. “I need to stay here to greet clients.”
He looks surprised. “You’re not going to come sell me on the place?”
“Nope.” I shrug. “Either you like it or you don’t.”
He laughs. “Blunt. I like it. And I agree,” he adds. “No point messing around when I already know what I want. It’s just a shame she’s off the market.”
He looks at me again, the kind of smirking, sexy stare that makes it clear what he’s talking about—and exactly what he’d do to me if he had the chance.
I flush. “Thanks for coming out,” I say. “Marcie’s details are on the brochure, you should call her if you have any questions.”
“What about your number?” he asks, teasing.
I cross my arms. “You won’t be needing it.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Jase leans in, close enough for me to feel his breath, hot on my cheek. “Maybe I like getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar.”
Before I can react, his hand slides over my hip—and reaches to grab another cookie from the plate. He steps back, gives me a wink, and then he’s gone, leaving me flushed and my pulse racing there beside the door.
Bad Chloe. Bad, bad girl.