“I think I’m in love with your wife.”

Jackson Downing stood ramrod straight, and steeled himself for the blow he knew would come. He deserved to be pummelled by Jacob and they both knew it. His brother had warned him that his attraction to Camille was more than just attraction. But he’d sworn to Jacob he was over her, that he’d accepted their marriage and was moving on, but he had lied. He was certain Jacob had known he’d lied, but his brother had said nothing at the time.

A tense silence permeated the room as they regarded each other warily. He had to admit he was a little surprised Jacob hadn’t launched over the desk and beat the shit out of him as soon as the words left his mouth. Jacob had inherited the infamous Irish temper of their maternal grandfather, more so than any of the Downing brothers. So, he took it as a good sign that since Jacob hadn’t resorted to violence, he still might be open to talking this out.

“I know,” was all Jacob said, his already harsh face giving away nothing as he sat behind his desk, his entire body rigid.

“I figured you knew, which is why I’m leaving.”

Jacob sighed. “And I had a feeling you were going to say that.” He stood up from his chair and Jackson met the identical dark sapphire gaze of his brother.

“I don’t want you to go, but I know this has been hard for you.”

Jacob had no idea. Watching the woman he’d spent the past seven months falling in love with walk down the aisle with the brother he was closest to, was more than hard—it was excruciating.

“I know you’ve been itching to get back down south to oversee the drilling project on Natalie’s old land in Hockley but with the wedding it had to be pushed aside…”

“And now you want to go in my place.”

Jackson shrugged. “It could take a while to get the pipe in place, months even. You’re a newly wed and it just doesn’t make sense for you to be gone for months away from Camille when I can go instead.” He wanted to add that he needed this trip more than anyone else, but he didn’t. They both knew how desperate he was to get away from Macon, Texas.

“It’s going to be a tough job and you’re going to have your hands full with a foreman who is pissed that we’re the new owners. I haven’t met him, but he hasn’t returned any of my calls and our email exchanges have been less than polite—”

“I don’t care. I’ll deal with it.” He knew Jacob wouldn’t deny him this. Besides they were well aware that with his laidback attitude and easygoing demeanour, Jackson had always been better suited than any of his brothers in dealing with business conflicts and handling negotiations.

“Alright.” Jacob nodded. “If you want to go then the job is yours.”

Jackson released a drawn out breath. Separated by just two years, Jackson knew his brother well, and could tell from the strained expression on Jacob’s face that he really didn’t want him to go, at least not like this. But, they both knew he had to.

There was no way he could remain in Macon any longer. Being away and dealing with the distraction of getting the pipeline running would hopefully give him the time he needed to get over Camille.

It had all seemed so simple. For six months Camille would serve his sexual needs and those of his three brothers, and when her time was up they would all walk away. Then, Camille would get her ranch back when it was over. But at some point along the way, Jacob and Camille had raised the stakes by falling in love. It was just unfortunate that he’d fallen in love with her too. He didn’t begrudge his brother or Camille for finding happiness with each other. But he would be lying if he didn’t admit that he hadn’t taken it so well when Camille chose his brother over him. That she’d fallen in love with his brother and not him.

One of the hardest things he’d ever had to do was to stand beside Jacob and watch as he said “I do” to Camille. Ever since that day he’d been distant and withdrawn from Jacob, and it pained him to think their relationship would never be the same ever again. That had been the deciding factor for him. He had to leave and at least try to move on for all their sakes. He’d lost Camille and if he didn’t learn to get over her, he would lose his brother too.

He was determined to do everything in his power to not let that happen. He would head down to Hockley for a few months, lick his wounds and try to forget about Camille, his feelings for her and the fact that he’d fallen in love with his brother’s wife.

* * * *

“Damn you, Natalie,” BJ Parker muttered angrily, her gaze following the shiny black Mercedes as it made its way along the dirt road towards where she stood in front of the ranch house.

Her half-sister had some nerve selling Cottonmouth Ranch and leaving her to deal with the new owner—alone. They both agreed that in order to pay off their father’s gambling debts they would have to sell the ranch, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

She’d been the foreman since graduating from college ten years ago and had always envisioned taking over when their dad retired. But that vision had faded when her father fell ill two years ago and she discovered he was living under a mountain of debt. She’d done all she could to keep Cottonmouth solvent, but it hadn’t been enough. By the time she’d taken over, it was already too late.

After their father’s death, she and Natalie quickly sold the ranch, settled with their dad’s creditors and moved on. Well, at least that’s how her older sister saw things. Natalie had always hated life on the ranch, and now she was pleasantly oblivious as she carried on with her lavish life in Chicago, far away from the family ranch, their small town of Hockley, and all the troubles that selling Cottonmouth hadn’t erased. Troubles she still had to deal with—the main one being the arrogant and overbearing new owner who had just parked his gleaming, luxury car smack dab in front of her home.

His incessant emails and phone calls had rankled on her nerves, but she realised it was nothing compared to the ire she felt when he filed out of his car.

She was a tall woman, nearly six feet, and despite the distance she could tell he would tower over her. She hated that, but not quite as much as she hated how his thickly muscled frame rippled beneath his custom tailored black suit.

“Damn, pretty-boy, Jackson Downing,” she found herself grumbling under her breath as he strolled towards her. She had never met him personally, but had seen the many covers of Fortune and Money with Jackson and his brothers placed front and centre. So, it was hard not to recognise the handsome ranch owner, even with his eyes hidden behind tinted aviator shades.

As he neared, she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. She also knew she wore a surly frown across her face. She despised him and his brothers for buying her ranch, and the fact that she was now his employee. She wasn’t a big fan of his flashy city-slicker demeanour either. Men like him didn’t know a damn about hard work and the long days spent running a ranch. And if his emails were any evidence, she had no doubt he was going to bulldoze over her and the meticulous operation she ran just to assert his newfound authority and show everyone who was in charge.

“Good morning. I’m Jackson Downing, the new owner of Cottonmouth Ranch. I called last night to let the foreman know I was coming in today,” he said as he came to a halt before her.

He extended his hand, flashing her a dimpled smile, but she didn’t acknowledge either as she kept her arms folded across her breasts, her expression blank. She knew she was being rude, especially when he shot her a quizzical frown and let his hand fall back to his side, but she didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, he was not welcome.

Several seconds ticked by, the air thick with tension, as they stood in silence. Finally, he cleared his throat in a somewhat futile attempt to ease the awkward moment.

“I wonder if you can help me. I’m looking for BJ Parker.”

“And you just found her,” she said stiffly, bracing herself for what she knew would come next. No matter how many times it happened, she always got a thrill watching the shock cross the faces of men expecting to meet, well—a man. And this time was no exception. Jackson Downing tugged his sunglasses from his face to stare down at her with questioning blue eyes, as if somehow the glasses had hidden the fact that she was, after all, a woman.

“You’re BJ Parker? The foreman.”

“That’s me.”

His brows knitted together as he frowned. “I…um was expecting—”

“A man?” she offered.

“No. I spoke with Natalie before I arrived. She told me her sister was the foreman. I knew you were a woman.”

She smiled at the puzzled look on his face. He looked like a fish out of water. Most people did when they discovered her svelte, blonde sister, was in fact her sister.

“But I didn’t expect you to be—”

“Black,” she said with a slight shrug. “Natalie’s my half-sister.” Her lips curled into a tiny grin. “I guess you can tell which half we don’t share.”

She could say that again.

He swept his gaze over her, doing his best not to let his eyes linger. Yet even with his brief perusal of the woman known as BJ Parker he did not miss the subtle curves on her tall slender frame, carefully hidden behind a pair of well worn jeans and a baggy plaid shirt. He also didn’t miss the exquisite beauty of her face, despite the Stetson that cast a dark shadow over her features. Even if she’d stood before him with a paper bag over her head he would have still been able to tell she was a natural beauty, a beauty that was rivalled only by her blatant animosity towards him.

He was surprised when a wave of heat inched across his skin, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to help clear his head. This woman was an endless parade of surprises. And from what little information he could pry out of Natalie on his drive there that morning, she was also going to be tough to win over. Whatever interest his body had in her would have to be ignored because he was there to do business, and nothing more.

“Well, I’m glad to finally meet you,” he said with a curt nod. He almost extended his hand again, but then quickly remembered she hadn’t been too keen on shaking his hand the first time. Apparently, she also wasn’t too keen on meeting him since she didn’t offer a similar reply, the lovely features of her face as stoic as a blank mask.

He let out an inward sigh. This was going to be a long trip if she didn’t lose the attitude, but he didn’t have the energy to deal with her or her surly disposition right now. He could confront her later. Right now all he wanted to do was unpack and settle in after the five-hour drive south.

He spun away from her, popped the trunk and dug out two large black suitcases. As soon as he moved towards her, he noticed her entire demeanour had changed. She went from being just slightly rude to openly hostile, as she stood before the two steps leading up to the house, her stance wide with her arms still folded tightly across her chest. She looked like a bouncer guarding the entrance to an exclusive nightclub in Manhattan. It would have been laughable had he not been so exhausted and eager to get to his room where he could unwind.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking my things inside so that I can relax before we talk business.” He stepped to the side, but she shifted in that direction to block his path.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Downing. This is my home and you weren’t invited.”

“Not according to Natalie. She said I could stay here for as long as I liked, so that’s what I’m doing.”

Angry red flames flared to life in her topaz gaze, and he knew instantly that those were the last words she wanted to hear.

“Well, Natalie doesn’t live here. I do. And as the foreman, I decide who comes and goes on this property.”

His eyes hardened, and he levelled her with a steely glare, causing her to take a tiny step back. From the wary expression on her face, she must have quickly realised he was not to be trifled with. But, just in case she wasn’t too sure, his next words made it absolutely clear that he would not be pushed around by her.

“You don’t get to make the decisions around here anymore, BJ, because as of right now, you’re fired.”

“What?”

He almost pitied BJ Parker, who stood there with her mouth agape and her eyes wide. He was sure she hadn’t been expecting that. And truth be told, he hadn’t really wanted to throw down the gauntlet in such a high handed manner. He needed this woman because she knew the land better than anyone else. But from what he knew of her, and what he’d just witnessed, she was not used to people challenging her nor was she used to taking orders, and he couldn’t stand for that. The Downing brothers were now the new owners of Cottonmouth, and she would either have to accept that and learn to work with him or she could find herself a new job.

“This is my home,” she gritted out angrily.

Her caramel hued cheeks glowed red with fury, and despite the rage pouring off of her in waves, he still found himself feeling a twinge of guilt as he glimpsed the pain in her eyes. Unlike her sister, he could tell this place meant something to her and for some inexplicable reason he knew that tearing her from her land would be like tearing out her soul. He empathised with her, but didn’t cave under the weight of her fury. This was business and if she couldn’t do her job then she couldn’t stay.

“You cannot kick me out of my home and off my land.”

“Let’s get this one thing straight—by law I can, but I don’t want to and that’s certainly not why I came here. I came here to get the pipeline up and running in order to funnel out oil, but if you’re determined to make things difficult for me then I will have no choice but to fire you.”

“You won’t find oil without me,” she said stiffly, her eyes as hard and cold as granite.

Something about the way she said those words had him seeing red. He was a man slow to anger so the very fact he felt heat crawling along the back of his neck was not a good sign for either of them.

Still holding his bags, he closed the distance between them so that she was forced to crane her head back in order to meet his ferocious gaze.

“I don’t tend to do well with threats or blackmail so if you have plans to sabotage this operation you won’t have to worry about getting fired because I’ll have your ass thrown in jail.”

She snorted, seemingly unmoved by his threat, which was surprising. Most people caved under the weight of his fury.

“I won’t have to lift a finger to sabotage you because as soon as you send me away you’ll be hard pressed to locate even a single drop of oil. And don’t think Natalie can help you. She hasn’t spent more than a night here since she was eighteen. You can fire me, city-boy but then be prepared to comb over more than a hundred acres looking for what I could find with my eyes closed.”

The smug look on her face annoyed the hell out of him, but it was the way she called him a city-boy that really pissed him off. She probably thought because he wore a suit and drove a fancy car that he would prove himself to be a walking moron if left out in the wide open space of the Texas plains. But she was wrong. All of his brothers spent their days working out on the ranch. Even Jacob spent a fair amount of time doing ranch work, despite the fact that he was the main one who ran the business end. If this woman thought he was a spoilt and pampered rich playboy then she was in for a surprise.

“I don’t care if you can find oil in your sleep. If you can’t find a way to cooperate with me then I will have no choice but to let you go.”

If looks could kill, he would have been dead as soon as he stepped out of his car, but the glare she shot him now was a thousand times worse. He half expected to go up in flames at any moment from the look in her eyes, which was damn near incendiary.

“I can cooperate as long as you understand that I’m in charge,” she finally bit out, and he knew it must have pained her to say even that.

“I have no interest in running your ranch. My only reason for being here is to set up drilling operations. That’s it,” he said, although he itched to remind her that she was not in charge, at least not entirely, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was willing to cooperate, which meant he could finally unpack his things, and get some rest. He could deal with the semantics of their arrangement later, when he was well rested.

She continued to stand there for a long moment, still rooted in the same spot, and he wondered wearily if she was going to force him to fire her for real this time. Luckily, she just shrugged and turned away from him.

“I’ll show you to the guest room,” she called from over her shoulder, her long braid whipping down her back. Jackson didn’t miss her less than enthused expression before turning her back to him, or the deadpan tone of her voice. Even if he had, the rigid lines of her slender back would have given her away as she disappeared inside the house on long, stiff legs.

He slipped inside to follow after her, all the while mentally preparing himself for the hard reality that the next several months were going to be hell.

It was a sad irony. BJ was as beautiful as a desert rose, but about as pleasant as a cactus, and he had no doubt she would prove to be a thorn in his side the entire time.

“What are you saying?” BJ could feel heat rising along the back of her neck. The mid-morning Texas sun beat down on her, but that had nothing to do with her skyrocketing temperature.

“I’m sorry, BJ,” the man said with a shrug.

BJ glared at Dwight McDonnell. He was sorry? She’d show him sorry.

“You’re sorry? No, I’m sorry. How the hell am I going to run this place without water?”

Dwight had the good sense to at least appear remorseful. She tried to rein in her anger. It wasn’t his fault. He was only doing his job. Cottonmouth rented well water from the neighbouring ranch, McDonnell Hill, but with their debts and mounting bills, she’d put off paying the McDonnell’s for three months. She knew if she didn’t pay today Cottonmouth would have to find another water supply.

“Can you at least give me a few more days?”

“I’m sorry, BJ but every month you keep telling me to give you a few more days.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry.”

BJ started to beg again, but stopped when the screen door banged shut. Jackson sauntered down the front porch steps as if he owned the place. She twisted her lips into a surly frown. Well, technically he did own the place.

“Good morning. What seems to be the problem?”

“Who says there’s a problem?” She shot Dwight a hard look, the expression on her face indicating she wanted him to keep his mouth shut. She didn’t need Jackson Downing sweeping in there to save her family home. She could take care of this all by herself.

“Jackson Downing,” he said extending his hand to Dwight for a brief shake. “I’m the new owner. Is there something I can help you with?”

Dwight glanced between her and Jackson, before apparently deciding Jackson was his ticket to getting paid. “W—well if you’re the new owner then yes, there is.” She glared at Dwight, but that didn’t stop him from telling Jackson she was behind on the well rent.

When he was done, Jackson simply nodded his head in the direction of the house. “If you come inside I can write you a cheque.”

BJ stood there fuming as they walked off, leaving her standing alone, glaring at their backs. It was so easy for him. Just write a cheque and be done with it. She worked hard to keep this place going and he simply walked right in as if nothing was too big or tough to handle.

She stomped off towards the stables, but drew up short when she heard her name.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the water?”

She spun around, levelling Jackson with a stern glare. “Because I was handling it.”

His expression was incredulous. “You were handling it? How? You were three months behind. What else have you forgotten to tell me?”

“I haven’t forgotten to tell you anything.”

He marched towards her, his sapphire eyes flashing with red sparks. She gasped when he gripped her by the arms, pinning her against his body.

“Let’s get this straight, BJ. If I wake up tomorrow and find anything from the electricity to the cable cut off, you’re fired.”

What was with him and always threatening to fire her? “We don’t have cable.”

His eyes hardened. “This is a joke to you. You think if you keep me in the dark long enough and frustrate me to no end I will give up and walk away.”

That’s exactly what she’d thought, but she had the feeling that Jackson Downing wouldn’t be as easy to get rid of as she hoped. He’d already lasted two weeks, and she’d been trying her damnedest. But, if there was ever any doubt that Jackson was made of sterner stuff, his next words erased it.

“I’m not walking away, BJ so you can end this war right here and right now. Even if I did leave, I would only send another one of my brothers here to take my place. Either way you’re stuck with a new owner, so get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it. I want you to go away.”

“You sound like a child. And besides we talked about this when I first got here. If you can’t get over this then you need to leave.”

She couldn’t believe he had called her childish. Her temper flared again. Maybe she should quit. Maybe she should just walk away and find a job elsewhere, because she seriously doubted that she and Jackson would ever manage to see eye-to-eye on anything.

For the first time she realised he still held her by the arms, with her body pressed against his hard chest. She tried to pull free of his grasp, but he only gripped her tighter, reminding her that Jackson was a very strong, very virile man. A warm flush spread over her, heating her skin, and despite her best effort not to, she shivered.

She fought to mask her surprise, and deftly avoided his gaze, but she could not escape the weight of his stare. She refused to look at him, she couldn’t do it—not right now, not after her body had just reacted to him. She wasn’t attracted to him. Couldn’t be. She could barely stand his guts.

“I need to get back to work,” she said, her voice unsteady. She wondered if he noticed.

“Do you think you can push it back to this afternoon? The reason why I came out here in the first place was to invite you to lunch.”

Her head snapped up, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “What?”

“Lunch? It’s that meal humans eat in the middle of the day.” His lips furled into a crooked grin, and a tiny dimple winked at her. Her stomach did a flip-flop, and she shivered again. What the hell was wrong with her?

“I know what lunch is, smart ass.” She jerked against him again, and this time he let her go. “I guess my question is what for? Why are you inviting me to lunch?”

”Besides the fact that we both have to eat?” He shrugged. “I would like for us to sit down and talk. I’m hoping you can get me up to speed on this place, and lunch seemed as good a time as any—especially since you seem to be so busy practically every hour of the day…”

His voice trailed off, a pointed reference to how she’d been purposely dodging his attempts to talk to her about the ranch. She started to refuse, as she’d done many times before, but when he smiled again she finally understood why he’d been voted one of People magazine’s “Sexiest Men Alive”. It was that damn dimple. Women probably threw their panties at him when he walked down the street. Hell, she was thinking about tossing her own, even though she knew he wouldn’t want them.

He was only trying to charm her in order to get her to go to lunch, where he would just pry information out of her, so that he could do her job for her. No, thanks.

“I have a lot of work to do.”

“It’s only lunch, Bria,” he said softly as if he were tiptoeing around a rattle snake.

Her name on his lips made everything inside her freeze. The only person who’d ever called her Bria had been her mother. BJ had always thought it was far too pretty of a name for a girl like her, hence, BJ. But when Jackson said it, it actually sounded quite nice.

“It’s just a lunch so we can talk about how to keep Cottonmouth afloat. I’m sure you want that as much as I do.”

She sighed. He knew he had her. She lived for this place. She would do anything to see that it didn’t fall into the red again. Besides, she couldn’t avoid him forever, and it was apparent he’d caught on to her dodging act.

“Fine. Let me just grab a few things and I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

* * * *

Lunch turned out to be quite interesting.

BJ had complained from the moment they set foot in the fine dining Italian restaurant.

She was underdressed.

They should have gone to a regular place.

She really wasn’t a big fan of Italian food.

Jackson sat there, carefully hiding his smile. She was nervous and felt out of place, and he didn’t know why, but he found that endearing. BJ wasn’t as tough as she pretended to be.

It felt good to see that Ms. Thorny Rose was human just like everyone else.

And after she got past her nerves, lunch went smoothly. He’d been surprised. They actually had a lot in common, and the conversation flowed so easily that it wasn’t until they were leaving that he realised he’d hardly asked any of the questions about the ranch that he’d wanted to.

Next time.

Next time?

He made it out to be like they’d gone out on some sort of date, and now he was actually looking forward to doing it again.

He froze.

He glanced over at her, his lips pursed into a frown. He wasn’t there to get to know her. He was there to get information out of her.

Unease washed over him when he realised what was happening. He didn’t want to notice her as a woman or be attracted to her, but that didn’t erase the fact that he was. He was intrigued by her—the toughest talking woman he’d ever met, with one of the prettiest faces he’d ever seen. She was a wondrous study of contrasts and there were times when he caught himself looking at her, when she wasn’t aware of his presence.

He cursed inwardly, his attraction to her catching him by surprise because she wasn’t even his type. For starters, she was tall. The top of her head would touch his chin if they stood facing each other. She was too tall, too edgy, with too much attitude. There was no denying that she was all woman, but he liked his women softer, rounder, more voluptuous. She was rail thin. His eyes dipped to her chest. All right, not that thin, but her breasts would barely fill his palm, if that.

His cock hardened. Apparently it didn’t care how big or small her breasts were. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the tightness in his pants. He had no business thinking about BJ’s breasts, or any other part of her anatomy for that matter.

“What’s wrong with you?”

She stared at him with curious eyes, her brow furrowed. He realised then that he’d abruptly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She must have thought he was nuts.

“Nothing,” he said, lightly grabbing her elbow. “We better get back.”

He ushered her towards the parking lot, but stopped at the sound of a voice calling her name from behind them.

They spun around, at the same time the man shouting her name caught up with them.

“Lou. Hi.”

Jackson frowned when she stepped away from him to embrace Lou in a hug that went on far too long for it to just be a friendly gesture.

When she finally managed to disentangle herself, she introduced them, but by then Jackson barely heard her. He couldn’t even be certain he mumbled anything in return that would be considered polite.

His gaze remained glued to the young man who stood there with stars in his eyes, staring down at BJ. Jackson took an instant disliking to him. There was just something about Lou that made Jackson want to draw BJ under his arm and shield her from the guy.

“We better get going, Lou,” BJ said after a few minutes. “It was nice running into you.”

Jackson didn’t feel the same so he simply nodded. The vibes he got from Lou didn’t sit right with him. The man was eager—a little too eager.

“That was rude of you,” BJ said as soon as he slid behind the steering wheel.

“What was rude of me?”

“The way you treated Lou. You barely said three words to him.”

He’d said three. That was three more than he’d wanted to. “So? How was I rude? I spoke, didn’t I?”

Her eyes widened, her golden pupils darkening to the colour of aged whisky. “Is that how you city boys treat people? You think you’re so much better than the rest of us that you can just ignore everyone around you?”

“City boy?” His brows lifted. “I was raised in Macon! It’s smaller than Hockley, which is basically a glorified suburb of Houston.” He couldn’t believe he was trading insults with her on where they’d grown up. He turned on the car, his entire body vibrating with anger.

“Besides, if you hadn’t been so busy sucking up compliments from your lapdog, you would have realised Lou is nothing but a phony—”

“A phony?” She folded her arms across her chest. “How so?”

“He’s a gold-digger.”

He gritted his teeth at the husky laughter that floated around him. She had a beautiful laugh, but it grated on his ears at that particular moment.

“How could Lou possibly be digging for gold? If you haven’t noticed, I’m practically broke, and Cottonmouth would have gone under had you not come along. He should have been sucking up to you if he was a smart gold-digger.”

Jackson frowned. She was smart—she had to be to run a ranch like Cottonmouth on her own. So, why was she being so thick-headed?

“Trust me, Bria. He’s a gold-digger. There’s oil on your land, and as soon as I find it, you will be a rich woman.” She had her sister, Natalie to thank for that. Natalie may have sold their land, but not future rights to oil and gold profits. Natalie and Bria would only receive a small percentage, but if his hunch was right, that small percentage was worth at least six figures.

“So the only man that would ever want me has to be after my money. Is that it?”

She turned away from him, and he realised too late that he’d stuck his foot in his mouth. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but he was telling the truth. Lou had dollar signs in his eyes when he looked at her. The man was no good.

“Don’t go putting words in my mouth. You know every man that wants you isn’t after your money, but Lou is.”

The withering look she shot him told him his last statement hadn’t made things better.

She was beautiful. Men were probably beating down her door—well, if they could get past that acid tongue of hers. She had to know that most men were not after her for money, not with everything she had to offer.

He glanced over at her again. Her face was practically glued to the window, her body rigid. For her to say what she had—to immediately jump to the conclusion that a man wouldn’t want her unless she came with money, made him think that maybe she didn’t realise just how special she was. Maybe she had no idea how utterly captivating she was, and that even after only two weeks, and despite her animosity towards him, he found himself drawn to her, to the point that he had to tell himself—and his body to leave her alone.

He shook his head, and turned his attention back to the road. He’d taken her out to lunch to soften her up, but like the idiot he was, he’d insulted her, and now she was back to being cold as ice.

Maybe that was for the best. He found himself attracted to BJ, but he really didn’t need to get entangled with a woman, especially this woman, not after everything he’d been through.

BJ was a complication he could ill afford.

* * * *

Just when she had started to think they could get along…

Lunch had turned out surprisingly well. He was funny, witty, charming—even nice. But as soon as they set foot in his car, the real Jackson had re-emerged yet again.

BJ should have known they weren’t meant to be anything remotely resembling friends. He was a moron, an idiot, a complete asshole.

So she wasn’t pretty—all right, she got it. He didn’t have to rub it in by pointing out that she had to be draped in dollar bills for a man to notice her.

She took a sip of wine and closed her eyes. See, what he had done? In just two weeks, he’d driven her to drink!

Her eyelids snapped open at the sound of hushed footsteps along the staircase.

He was up. She jumped out of her chair and dumped her glass of wine down the sink, trying to make a hasty exit out of the kitchen before he made it down the stairs, but she wasn’t fast enough.

She collided into him, just as he was entering the kitchen. The solid wall of his chest forced the air out of her lungs and he gripped her arms to keep her from falling backwards.

Damn it. Even in the middle of the night she couldn’t seem to escape him.

“What are you doing up so late?” He scowled down at her.

“I could say the same to you. I couldn’t sleep.”

His face softened. “Me either.”

Something flashed in his gaze that made her wonder what it was that kept his nights sleepless, but she refused to ask. It was none of her business.

He leaned towards her and sniffed the air. “Were you drinking?”

“Wine.”

He arched a brow. “Can I have some?”

She looked at him again, seeing him clearly for the first time. He looked haggard, his eyes haunted. She felt herself softening towards him just a bit. Whatever had kept him up weighed heavily on him. If anyone needed a drink, it was him.

“Sit down. I’ll get it.”

She reached for the red wine under the counter, and filled two wine glasses.

Handing him one, she sat down across from him, and took a sip.

Silence stretched between them as they drank, both retreating to the dark corners of their minds. She itched to ask him why he was still up, but she tempered her curiosity. He didn’t seem like he was in the mood for questions, and neither was she.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

She stared at him. She hadn’t been expecting him to acknowledge what had happened at lunch, let alone an apology, so she sat there speechless.

“As pretty as you are, I’m sure you get plenty of interest from men and, in turn, are interested in many of them right back. It was just that with your friend earlier, I could tell he was all wrong for you, but if you like him,” he shrugged, “I don’t think he’s a good guy, but if you like him then that’s your business, not mine. I shouldn’t have interfered.”

She sort of heard everything he said, but she really couldn’t get past the part where he’d called her pretty. Her. Bria Jaslene ’BJ‘ Parker? Jackson Downing had called her pretty, and he seemed to believe it. She looked away because she didn’t want him to see the disbelief in her eyes.

The only reason why he thought she was pretty was because he obviously hadn’t met her sister, or seen a picture of her mother. Those two were pretty, no gorgeous. Now, her? Well, she was a different story. She had always been too tall, too skinny, her features too angular, her actions too rough. Next to her mother and Natalie, she’d never been girly, or feminine, or even passably pretty.

Jackson noticed the change in her the moment he started to apologise. She didn’t look at him, and the entire room grew chilly, as if the temperature had dipped twenty degrees.

She abruptly shot to her feet and the chair scraped against the floor, nearly tumbling over.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to bed.”

He grabbed her arm before she could scurry out of there.

“What’s wrong with you? I thought you would appreciate my apology.” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but he had apologised and she hadn’t so much as said a word. He was trying here, but she had to at least meet him halfway.

“I do appreciate your apology. Thank you. I’m just tired. I better get to bed now.”

He narrowed his gaze. She was lying. She couldn’t even look him in the eye. What was up with her? One minute she was hot, the next she was cold. What had he said to set her off this time?

If there was one thing he knew, he knew women. He searched his brain, trying to piece together the mystery that was BJ Parker, but when he settled on an explanation it was so baffling he swore he had to be wrong. And yet, it was the only thing that made sense.

“So is Lou your boyfriend or something?” He asked tentatively, testing the waters. If he knew nothing else, he knew that with BJ blunt questions would get him nowhere.

“What does that have to do with me going to bed?”

“Nothing. It’s just that you seemed upset when I mentioned him just now. I thought I offended you because he’s your boyfriend.”

Her eyes darkened and he wondered if she would even answer him. Then, she said softly, “No, Lou’s not my boyfriend.”

“Good. You deserve better Bria. You’re far too lovely…”

She stiffened, and he knew his hunch, as absurd as it seemed, was right.

He still held her by the arm, but he reached for her with his free hand, when she tried to pull away, the look in her eyes as blank and empty as a cloudless sky.

“Bria—”

“Good night, Jackson.”

She struggled to wrench herself free, but he trapped her between his body and the refrigerator.

He didn’t want to embarrass her by pressing the issue, but he found it hard to believe that she didn’t see herself the way he did—the way he knew other men did as well.

He pressed his lower body against her, making words unnecessary at that point, there was no need for declarations with the evidence of his arousal right there.

She gasped, her eyes wide, as if she couldn’t believe that he was aroused by her, that he wanted her. Damn it, he wanted her. He’d tossed and turned practically every night thinking about her. This was undoubtedly the tenth night she’d haunted his dreams, and hell, he’d only been there two fucking weeks.

He’d been in a painful state of arousal from the moment he walked into the kitchen and found her there, dressed in a poor excuse for a night shirt. The practically sheer white cotton moulded to her subtle curves, the moonlight outlining every dip and valley.

He dipped his head to inhale her scent and she shivered against him. That was the last thing she should have done. His body grew tighter, all blood leaving his brain and flowing straight to his cock.

He leaned into her and when she lifted her head, he took that as a sign. He brushed his lips against hers, giving her one last chance to push him away. When her tongue darted out to sweep across his lips, he groaned low in his throat, crushing his mouth to hers. He plundered inside with his tongue, tasting her, coaxing tiny moans of pleasure from her full lips.

He rocked against her, his cock grinding into her belly. Every inch of him was on fire and all he could think about was freeing his aching shaft and sliding into her wet heat.

Pressing his body closer, he skimmed his hand down the length of her leg. Her skin was smooth, the silky slide making his body grow harder with need. His questing hand caused her shirt to hitch higher up her thighs, and he slipped his fingers between her legs, a deep, guttural growl escaping his lips when he found nothing but the hot wet heat of her.

He lifted his head, and grinned. “No panties, Bria?” His hardnosed foreman wasn’t as uptight as he’d first assumed.

Her eyes widened, her cheeks blooming red with embarrassment and he crushed his lips to hers again, claiming her sweet lips in a searing kiss. He pushed inside her with his fingers, stroking deep, the warm slide of her pussy causing violent tremors to rack him as he fought for control.

She writhed against him and her breasts grazed his chest. He pumped inside her tight sheath, harder and faster. When he rubbed the tiny nub at the mouth of her cunt, she nearly came undone, her body quivering.

He waged his assault on her body with his lips, his hands, until she splintered in his arms, coming on his still thrusting fingers, her groan of pleasure flowing from her mouth to his. She was so wet, so sticky, and the sweet musk of her cum filled the room.

He pulled away from her, ending their kiss, and a small smile curled his lips at her puffy, bee stung mouth. He leaned into her, a sigh escaping him. He ached to sheath himself in her pulsing heat, to hear the soft cry of his name on her lips as he fucked her to climax after climax.

He’d never been this consumed by need for a woman before, this complete obsession to claim her. The only other time he’d come close to feeling this way had been when he’d been with Camille.

He stilled, abruptly jerking away from BJ.

Camille.

He stared down at the woman before him. She was nothing like Camille, or the women he was normally attracted to, and yet, he wanted her with such a burning passion that he hadn’t been able to sleep all night.

He eased away from her. No matter how much he wanted her, he couldn’t make love to BJ, not tonight, not with his body and mind so conflicted. He was there to do a job, and had come there in order to get over Camille. The last thing he needed was a rebound affair, and BJ certainly deserved better than that.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He knew it was lame, but he gave her a curt nod anyway, because he didn’t know what else to do.

“Good night,” he said weakly and walked out of there before he changed his mind and took her right there up against the refrigerator—something he knew he would only regret later.