Surrender Your Love (Surrender Your Love #1)(17)

It was just a job. He was just some (I admit way beyond the usual standard) good-looking guy lucky enough to inherit the hotness gene. I could deal with him.

I stared at the urns overflowing with blossoming flowers lining the sidewalk outside our window and inhaled the clean, morning air wafting in through the open door. Bellagio was so beautiful and serene; I felt I could deal with anything…until Jettsmiled that lopsided smile of his that screamed trouble. I frowned. Why was his gaze lingering on me longer than was acceptable? His gaze dipped slowly from my eyes to my lips and then to my shirt—or what I hoped was my shirt rather than my br**sts—before shifting back to meet my eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

“Do you like your room?”

I nodded, not quite understanding the sudden change in topic. “It’s beautiful.”

“I want you to pack your bags.” He stood and held out his hand to help me up. I ignored it.

“Why? Where am I going?”

“No need to waste company money on a hotel when I own a property on Lake Como. It’s very private. Very secluded. I’m sure you’ll like it even more than this place.” He signed the bill on the table and tossed the pen on top of it, then turned to me. Danger shimmered in his eyes, and for a moment he reminded me of an eagle closing in on his prey. I felt like butter melting under his sexy gaze full of dark and sinful and forbidden promises.

“You have half an hour. Can you do that?” Jett asked, breaking our eye contact.

“You could have told me last night,” I said, trying to keep my voice strong. All I could think of was Jett and I, alone in a secluded place with no one to bother us. No one to ask questions. No one to watch what we were doing. Why did the outlook seem so erotic?

“I could have told you.” His gaze bore into mine again and a flicker of amusement played on his lips. “But I didn’t.” My mouth went dry as I tried to read his enigmatic expression. An inner voice told me he wasn’t as unpredictable as he pretended to be. It was just a game. But there was something about him that kept me on edge, wanting—waiting for his next move, reaction, word— anything that might give away what was going through that damn mind of his. Either he liked to keep his employees on their toes or this was nothing but an experiment to test my patience, devotion, and consequently my aptness for the job.

I raised my chin a notch and stared him down. He could test all he wanted. I was born to do this job, and nothing he said or did could break my reserve.

He peered at his watch, signaling I was wasting his time.

“I’ll be back in twenty.” I hurried past, my heart thumping in my throat. Private and secluded were two adjectives I’d rather avoid with Jett Mayfield around, and yet here I was—running to do as he bid instead of protesting and insisting I stay behind, even if it meant paying for my room out of my own pocket.

Could you have afforded it?

I smirked. Not likely.

As I passed a mirror in the hall, I noticed how incredibly ridiculous I looked with that grin on my face.

There’s nothing to be so excited about, Steward. It’s just a job. A job for which you get paid.

For some reason I couldn’t shake off the feeling spending time with Jett came at a price, and sooner or later I’d have to decide whether it was worth it.

***

Jett’s reluctance to engage in business conversation rather than focus on the road ahead was understandable, given that we were stuck in his convertible Ferrari driving down the narrowest, most winding, cobbled paths I had ever seen. I would have literally soiled my pants sitting in the driver’s seat and was thankful for the fact that driving didn’t seem to be part of my job duties.

During the half hour drive, he kept our conversation businesslike and mostly focused on my duties as his personal assistant. Upon my asking, he mentioned our job here was a deal running in the millions, but he remained tight-lipped on the details. He gave me a short verbal list of important names to remember and an even longer list of names he didn’t want to be bothered with. His deep, smooth voice kept conjuring the wrong pictures in my head, so I remained mostly quiet, as I tried to focus on his instructions.

It was late morning when he finally took a sharp turn and parked the car, then held the door open. I stepped out gingerly, minding my step on the gravel stones.

“What do you think?” Jett asked.

Inhaling the air thick with the smell of trees, water, and sunshine, I spun in a slow circle as I tried to take in the picturesque scenery stretching out in front of us. To me professional meant not wearing my emotions on my sleeve. But how could I keep my cool with mountaintops covered in sparkling snow surrounding a shimmering Lake Como as a backdrop, green ivy climbing up the sides of the balcony, and blossoming flowers at my feet?

“I love it,” I whispered because no other words could convey how I felt. My answer seemed to please him because he smiled. As he held the door open so I could enter, I thought I caught a glint of lust in his dazzling green eyes.

“After you,” Jett said, still staring at me.

I nodded, unable to bring out a simple ‘thank you’ under the spell of his gaze.

What Jett had called ‘his place’ was in reality a three-level villa situated on a raised, secluded spot overlooking the lake and beach below. As I moved from one immaculate room to the next, I could smell the sultry scent of lavender, roses, and other fragrances you’d normally only find in expensive Eau de Toilette. Eventually, we stopped on the patio overlooking Lake Como.