Surrender Your Love (Surrender Your Love #1)(16)

But isn’t that exactly what happened back home?

Pushing the irritating yet accurate thought to the back of my mind, I implored my brain to become obsessed with something or someone else…and failed. I hadn’t heard a sound since last night when Jett had left me standing in front of my door, which led me to believe that he was either very quiet or didn’t spend the night in his room. Call me opinionated, but I was ready to bet on the latter. He was the bad boy type all right. The type my mother warned me about. The type you have a good time with, then forget about as you go home to live your boring life, while he moves on to the next skirt ready to give him the time of day.

Only this bad boy wouldn’t be so easy to forget because we worked together. I had only two options: either get rid of him or find a way to ease those hormones that followed me even in my dreams. Quitting my job wasn’t an option so Number Two it was. If only I knew how to stop turning into a drooling teen every time I so much as heard his voice.

Maybe it won’t be so bad in the light of day.

Guys tend to be hot when you’re under the influence of either horniness or beer goggles. I was neither, so Mayfield was powerless. Besides, he couldn’t possibly be as good-looking as I remembered. If my horniness wouldn’t stop anytime soon, I was sure seeing his flaws in broad daylight would do the trick.

After a brief shower I dressed in Sylvie’s navy suit, pinned my hair up in a strict bun, and nervously perched on the sofa to await Mayfield’s arrival. Last night’s questions popped back into my mind, and I made a mental note to get answers straight away. First I’d find out why he employed me, and then we’d establish a work routine and what he expected of me. As a professional, nothing could faze me. Absolutely nothing. Not even his lean, muscular body with rock-hard six-pack abs, strong shoulders, and a wide chest. And surely not his stunning green eyes, full lips, and beautiful face.

He was off limits. Forbidden to touch or drool over.

Everyone but him. Got it, Stewart?

I breathed in and out as I steadied myself, centering my resolve in the knowledge that I had it all under control. I thought I was doing great…until my weak body betrayed me.

My heart began to thump a little harder. As I took deep breaths to calm my nerves, the door opened and in he walked… six foot two of toned muscles. I knew I was blushing, but I couldn’t stop. Just like I couldn’t stop my knees giving way beneath me. Thank goodness I was sitting, otherwise I might have landed flat on my ass. Staring at him, I ran my tongue along my suddenly parched lips to moisten them. He looked so darn sexy, dressed in a tailored business suit and a crisp white shirt; the upper button was undone, revealing that delicious patch of skin I had started to look out for. His thick dark hair was shiny, but unruly, and looked as though he’d just stepped out of the shower and didn’t bother brushing it. I wanted to run my fingers through it. Without thinking I sniffed, and a sassy non-invasive cologne intermingled with a more masculine shower gel shot my reserve to pieces. It instantly turned me on, making me want to—

Dammit.

It wasn’t just my body that betrayed me. My mind wouldn’t stop conjuring images of Jett and me, together, doing naughty stuff. I bit my lower lip hard as I fought the urge to jump on his lap and bury my fingers in his hair and draw us onto the couch with him on top of me. His weight would pin me to the spot and—

“You okay? You look a bit flustered.” Jett Mayfieldsat down opposite me and inched forward, lower arms resting on his thighs, as though to inspect me. An amused glint played in his devilish green eyes. The guy was a piece of sin. If he were the devil holding a contract, this would be the moment I might just give in to temptation and sign over my soul.

What was it with my inability to focus around this guy?

I leaned back to put a few more inches between us. “I’m just surprised you scrub up so nicely in a suit.”

He raised a brow. “Was that a compliment, Ms. Stewart?” It was, but the guy’s inflated ego was already so big I doubted he would fit it through Manhattan. I wasn’t going to contribute to mankind’s doom by letting it grow to even bigger proportions.

“Not really. After what you were sporting at that club, even a lumberjack shirt thrown over a spandex bodysuit would be a vast improvement.” My brain only realized what I’d just said after the words left my mouth. Not only was I incapable of keeping my body heat under control, my potty mouth also couldn’t stop insulting him. I swallowed hard and peered at him. An apology rushed to my lips.

“Spandex bodysuits, huh?” His eyes twinkled. “If that’s what turns you on—I’m all for giving it a try.”

My breath hitched. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mayfield. I don’t know what came over me.”

He raised his hand to stop me. “We can discuss today’s schedule over breakfast. And please call me Jett. We’ll have to work together around the clock, so we might as well drop the formalities and start getting to know each other better in every sense.” There was that double meaning thing he kept doing. Or was it all in my head?

Stop putting words in his mouth, Stewart.

“Great. I’m Brooke.” I smiled and followed him out the door to the restaurant downstairs, aware of the jealous glances from every single female we passed. As Jett began to talk about my job and what he expected of me in a no-nonsense voice I assumed was his business tone, I relaxed a little and even managed to swallow down a few bites of the best butter croissant I ever had.