Free Rules of Entanglement by Gina L. Maxwell Page A

appeared at her side, standing so close his body heat penetrated her thin cami. When he spoke, his voice was soft, concerned. “How many men have hurt you, V?”
    “Men I’ve had relationships with?” He inclined his head in the affirmative. Clutching her coffee mug in front of her like a shield of armor, she turned to him and told him the absolute truth. “None.”
    …
    Jackson watched Vanessa walk back to the couch and settle in with her laptop again. Something was off about her answer. She was so jaded when it came to men and relationships, and yet no one had hurt her in the past? It didn’t make any sense. She was a puzzle with missing pieces, and he wanted to find them.
    “How long do you plan on working today?”
    She looked up briefly, then continued jotting notes on a yellow legal pad on her knee. “I don’t know, probably for a while yet.”
    “Have you been doing that all morning?”
    “Yes, I have. What were you doing all morning?”
    He smiled and leaned his hips back on the counter. “Afraid I’d run off with the maid, darling?”
    She looked up, gave him an exaggerated smile, and batted her eyes innocently. “I’d hoped.”
    He slapped a hand over his heart. “Wife, you wound me.”
    “I’m not your wife yet, sugarbug, and once I can figure it out, I won’t be your fiancée for much longer, either.”
    “Well,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “then I’d better make the best of it until then. You’ve got exactly a half hour left to toil on those boring-ass files before I whisk you away from here.”
    “Since when did fiancé become interchangeable with master ? I’m not going anywhere until I’m damn good and ready.”
    He walked over, cupped her chin in his hand, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. “Then get damn good and ready in exactly half an hour.” Then he left the bungalow and a stunned redhead behind.
    It took him only about twenty minutes to get the things he needed for their afternoon. He’d hunted down Robért, who had only been too happy to help him put a picnic basket together with food from one of the restaurants and some bottles of water. Since he had a few extra minutes, he stopped at the beach bar and enjoyed the view of the crystal blue ocean and chatted with the bartender.
    Thirty minutes past the time he’d left, he walked up the path to the bungalow with basket in hand, fully expecting to find Vanessa in the same spot he’d left her. But to his surprise she was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on the front lanai, arms crossed and a stern look on her face.
    “You didn’t tell me how to prepare.”
    “Uh…what?”
    “I have no idea what we’re doing or where we’re going. How am I supposed to know what to wear or if I need to bring anything? If we’re going sightseeing then I’ll want to wear shorts and a cute top and comfortable shoes for extended walking. If we’re going swimming somewhere then I’ll want to wear a suit and flip-flops. If we’re going to lunch in one of the restaurants at the resort I have to dress up a little, which is neither of the outfits I mentioned previously. And that doesn’t even cover my makeup and hair.”
    Jackson stood still, not wanting to make any sudden movements and scare the animal into an attack frenzy. “Holy shit, are all women like this? If you told me to be ready in a half hour I would’ve made sure I wasn’t indecently exposed, then pulled a sixer of beer out of the fridge for the trip.”
    She threw her hands up and let them fall to slap her thighs in frustration. “Why am I not surprised?”
    That’s when it hit him; this wasn’t anger. It was distress because she didn’t have control over the situation. She stopped working, so she obviously wanted to enjoy an afternoon out of the house, but given the circumstances, she didn’t know how.
    Setting the basket on the steps, he walked over to her and brought her up by her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you needed more