Surrender Your Love (Surrender Your Love #1)(30)

“Could you possibly be more vague?” I asked.

He laughed that deep, brief laughter of his that always made my stomach flutter a little bit. “We used to vacation here a lot when I was a child. I wanted to preserve the memory by buying my own house here. Unfortunately, I don’t come as often as I’d like to.”

No hidden motives then. Just a rich man returning to the one place he adored as a child. I folded my hands in my lap and started to play with the hem of my shirt, not quite buying into it.

“So it wasn’t because of Alessandro Lucazzone,” I remarked dryly.

His head snapped in my direction, and for a moment our eyes connected. There was something in his gaze—a hint of determination, maybe even fear, I couldn’t really tell—and then it disappeared and his gorgeous lips curled up into a lazy smile.

“I can see why you would think that, but I assure you it wasn’t the case. We only recognized the estate’s potential a few years ago. It was during my first year in college.” He hesitated, as though considering whether to reveal more. I waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t I wondered whether there was more to this freshman year story than he let on.

We drove in silence for a minute or two. It was a late Wednesday morning. Apart from the odd passing car, the street remained mostly deserted. Jett maneuvered expertly, barely slowing down at the sharper bends, which led me to believe he knew the way well. Either that, or he was the most reckless driver I had ever seen. Several times my heart jumped in my throat, and I clutched the armrest for support as he kept cutting corners, taking us dangerously close to the steep mountain wall rising to my right.

“You okay?” Jett asked, laughing.

“You drive like a maniac,” I said through clenched teeth.

“That’s not the only thing I do like a maniac, Brooke.” His hand moved away from the steering wheel and settled on my thigh.

Heat flushed my cheeks. I was mortified, but not from shame or shyness. Frowning, I lifted his hand off my thigh and placed it back on the steering wheel, noticing how warm and calloused his palm was. Those bumps didn’t come from sitting around in an office.

“Just keep a tight grip on that, will you?” I said dryly. “While I think Italy’s beautiful, I’m not keen on having my brain splattered all over this place.”

“You’re the careful kind then?” His question sounded more like a statement.

I shrugged. “Not more careful than most people out there but definitely more careful than you.”

The car slowed down a little but not enough. I heaved a big sigh and slumped deeper into the leather seats.

“You’re not living a life in the fast lane?” Jett shot me a questioning glance. I sensed a deeper meaning in his words.

“Are you?”

His lips quirked up at the corners. “As you can see, I like it fast and dangerous. I’ll gladly teach you a thing or two about those two things, Ms. Stewart.”

Whoa, when did the conversation take this particular turn? My cheeks flamed up, and I turned my head away from him so he wouldn’t catch just how much his words affected me. Oh, I wanted him to teach me all right. If only he’d make his threat real. Or was that a promise?

The car slowed down and we came to an abrupt stop. I wet my lips nervously, unsure what followed next.

“Why are we stopping?”

He turned to face me. Dimples formed in his cheeks as his gaze lingered on me a tad too long, caressing my face, my br**sts, my body. What the heck was he doing? And why couldn’t I think with him so close?

“What?” I dared not take a breath under his electric eyes. His gaze narrowed on my lips and stayed glued to them. My blood rushed faster at the thought of him kissing me and making out in the middle of nowhere.

He leaned forward, tenderly grazing my leg, then my neck. And then his hand moved to the glove department to retrieve a pair of shades.

“Put them on,” he said gently. “The sun’s strong and we wouldn’t want you to get a headache.”

They were just words, but his gentle tone conveyed so much more. Warmth. Caring. I didn’t know what to do or say. I didn’t know how to protect my heart from the sudden array of emotions filling it.

“Thank you,” I said eventually, slightly choked. “What about you?”

“I’ll be okay.” He hit the accelerator hard. “Faster’s always better, but you have to mind those curves. They’re wicked. They can kill a man in a heartbeat.” He flashed me a grin as the car picked up in speed again, and for a moment I could swear he had been looking at my chest.

Our eyes connected in the mirror and I realized he had probably caught everything: the way my fingers seemed to want to rip a hole in my top’s hem, the way my eyes kept darting toward him, eager to soak up his every move, the way my knees pressed together tightly so the scent of dampness coming from my panties wouldn’t give away how much I wanted him to touch me there.

“Blushing suits you. I should make you blush more often,” Jett said hoarsely.

Swallowing hard, I put on the shades to hide at least part of my burning face, even though it probably was useless. I had never been good at pretending, and it sure had gotten worse around him. I knew I should say something—anything—but my words remained trapped at the back of my throat.

“This is it,” he said, taking a sharp right onto bumpy terrain. The lane was narrow with a ditch on both sides, and barely any space for oncoming traffic. The trees with rich crowns of leaves gathered into a thick canopy that filtered the warm rays of sun.