Gambling on the Bodyguard (8 page)

She watched intently as he lost his jeans and tore open a condom. He rolled it on, then crawled on top of her, pulling the blankets over his back and he lowered against her. Into her. She held his gaze as he entered, a little at a time, each push punctuated with a tiny withdrawal until they had joined as completely as two people ever could. The blankets added to the softness and warmth, making their small world their own. There was no Vegas. No mountains to climb. Just one man and one woman, everything on the table, nothing left to give.

She clutched his shoulders as he shook with the restraint required not to drive into her. Held on as he rolled his hips. No grinding, no fucking. Just the sweet bliss of being the one she’d chosen, if only for a night.

If only to forget.

Desire rocketed through him, the intentionally slow pace more brutal than any he’d ever known. He shifted, nudging deeper, feeling her leg slide the length of his. She arched against him, baring her neck, and he claimed the spot with his mouth. Fingernails raked his back, but still he held on. He tried not to think about what she was doing to him. What she allowed him to do to her.

Her body enveloped him, all heat and fire, and he held her with everything he had. Kissed her neck. Nibbled her ear. All the while, driving into her, rocking his hips, pistoning longer, slower, deeper. Breaking a sweat, tasting that she’d done the same.

And kissing her. Dear God, the sweet slide of her tongue with his was enough to leave him undone. He explored every crevice, tasted every part of her, swallowed every whimper. Forced himself to take her deeper, pushing against the bed with one knee, gaining traction. Nudging her across the sheets with his desire to consume her, to so thoroughly become a part of her body that he’d be there forever. He knew the moment she came. Knew she hadn’t been thrown off some cliff to flail, to seek purchase from thin air. That wouldn’t happen, not this time. He gave her something to hold on to while she trembled. Kissed her. Touched her hair, cupped her face. Held on until his own orgasm took over, stealing his sense of self, leaving him shaking and lost.

Lost, with no real desire to be found.

When he went to the bathroom to clean up, he didn’t recognize himself in the mirror. Didn’t recognize what raged inside him.

Didn’t matter.

Just went back to the bed and held her, knowing it had to be enough.

Knowing damn well it’d never even come close.

Chapter Nine

Gracie pulled at Jax’s arm and batted her baby blues. “Please, Jax? Just one more run. Mom and Dad will never know.”

He shook his head. “No way. We’ll be late, and they’ll blame me.”

“No one is gonna blame you. Just tell them the line for the ski lift was long. Please?”

Jax blew a frustrated breath that pillowed in a cloud in front of his face. “It’s too warm.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If it was too warm, they’d close the mountain. Besides, you can still see your breath.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s cold enough.” But still, Jax teetered on the verge of giving in. He had a hard time denying his baby sister anything, but if he greenlighted Gracie and his parents found out, they’d never trust him again.

“One run. I’ll be fast.”

He sighed. “I know you will. Go ahead. I’m right behind you.”

She squealed and managed to leap into his arms, nearly toppling them both. By the time she wriggled down, their skis were entangled, and they both ended up in the snow. “You’re a twerp,” he muttered.

She flashed one of her effervescent smiles, then clamored to her feet and checked the straps. They rode the chair lift to the top of the mountain, Gracie chattering the whole time about skiing a new black diamond trail earlier that day. About wanting to do it again.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned. “Stick to something easy. If you break your neck, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

The lift deposited them at the top of the mountain. She leaned down to check her skis one more time, then dropped her goggles into position. “Think you can keep up?”

Jax checked his equipment. “No problem.”

With a mischievous grin, she kicked off for a nearby intermediate trail. He followed behind her, slowly realizing the snow was too wet in the sun. Unease crawled through his chest. “Gracie!”

He looked up in time to see the little imp make a sharp turn onto a black diamond slope. The move required skill—there was no way it was an accident.

“Gracie!”

Either she didn’t hear him or she’d ignored him, not that it mattered. You couldn’t ski backward up a mountain that steep, so he pushed his misgivings aside and took the turn after her. He wasn’t entirely confident he was up for a black diamond run, but there was no way he was leaving his baby sister to fend for herself. The sun beating onto the snow worried him.

“Gracie!”

She slowed, and he relaxed a notch. Then she took a hard turn and headed off the trail.

Off. The. Trail. Against the rules. There was no way their parents wouldn’t find out about this.

“Son of a bitch.” Jax had no real business on an expert trail, let alone off one. He stood there, trying to catch his breath and wondering what he should do. If he called ski patrol, they’d both be in trouble. But he couldn’t just let her go out there alone. Growing frantic, he searched for someone. Anyone. But they were alone on this side of the mountain.

Just him and the lukewarm sun and Gracie’s bright red beanie weaving down the mountain…then a rumble. Low at first, then thunderous.

Then she was gone.

“Gracie, no!”

Everything happened in horrible, slow motion. A massive sheet of snow slid, then broke and tumbled, taking Gracie with it.

Jax stood frozen. Searching. The mountain settled into silence.

Ellie was gone.

Ellie
.

Jax’s eyes flew open. He was drenched in sweat. Shaking. Ellie slept next to him, seemingly unaware that she’d invaded his dreams.

Dreams
. More like the worst fucking day of his life. Only now it wasn’t just Gracie he’d lost, but Ellie. Even though she was right there, his heart constricted. Ellie loved those damn mountains. She was a
ski instructor
. He’d loved Gracie, and that hadn’t been enough to keep her alive. He’d stood there and watched her disappear. It hadn’t mattered that he’d hauled ass down the mountain for help, or that she should have known not to go off the trail. She wouldn’t have been there at all if not for him. He deserved every ounce of the pain.

He couldn’t go through that again. He’d relive it every time Ellie stepped foot on a mountain—Gracie being gone, Ellie being next.

She was so beautiful. So peaceful. He thought of Gracie and her smile, but only saw Ellie.

He couldn’t lose her…not like that. Not even after what they’d shared.

Fuck
.

He eased from the bed, every muscle tight. Trembling. He once again helped himself to her shower and cranked the water as hot as he could stand it. The stall was devoid of the hotel’s mini-bottles, so he settled for Ellie’s shampoo, realizing too late that he’d never escape her with her scent enveloping him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck
.

He needed to think…about anything other than the way they’d fit together. But that was all he saw. All he felt. He’d never done that before. Never touched a woman like that. Had never been touched. It wasn’t sex.

It was possession.

God, how he needed her. And the more he realized it, the more the red flags waved. He couldn’t be that man for her. She deserved more. She deserved someone who had something to give, and that wasn’t him. Never would be.

He let the water run, hoping it would take the last traces of honey-citrus-whatever with it. Hoping it would take the pain of wanting what he couldn’t have.

A happiness he didn’t deserve.

He couldn’t protect his sister. He couldn’t protect Ellie.

He shut off the water and dropped his forehead against the tile wall. Thought of her smile, of how she lit his world. She was sunshine personified. She made the simplest things special. Walking the strip. Slot machines. Syrup.

Already his mind spun with the possibilities of having and holding her. Of being a different person all the time, not just when she was around. But he couldn’t risk that. He couldn’t risk her happiness.

He couldn’t risk falling in love with her.

Realizing he was cold, he yanked down the nearest towel and slung it around his hips. Walking into the suite felt like stepping into a minefield. He didn’t want to be an ass and disappear, but he wasn’t ready to face her. Not when she’d have that look in her eyes. Not when that look was one he craved.

He managed to get his pants on before she stirred. His shirt before she spoke.

“Are you leaving?”

He hated that she had to wake without him in the bed. He wanted to be there with her, to feel every satiny inch of her skin stretched against his. Before the nightmare, he’d slept so well with her tangled with him, fitting in his arms like she didn’t belong anywhere else.

He’d come that close. That damn close to a chance of happiness.

“I need to go,” he said. Simply. Truthfully.

She squinted against the light. “Can I see you later?”

“The ball is tonight,” he said. “I have to tail Focker.”

“Well, then, I guess…thank you?”

He felt like an ass. Tomorrow was Sunday. She was leaving, and he’d just blown her off. “Meet me in the ballroom at five. I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe help you snag a dance with your cover model.” If Focker even danced.

Her eyes narrowed, then shot daggers.

He turned away, knowing damn well why she was pissed. When he met her, he’d wanted nothing more than to turn her off the guy, but now…he should have left well enough alone. Jax, on the other hand, had gone and made it personal. Ellie had opened her heart to him, and he’d probably never shake the repercussions.

More guilt. Right up his alley.

“That was the deal, right?” His words sounded lame, even to his ears.

“Not good enough,” she said. Softly, but with a dangerous edge.

He slid his feet into his shoes and patted his pockets. Felt like he had everything. Knew damn well he didn’t.

Knew he didn’t have her.

“I’m sorry if that’s not good enough, Colorado, but it’s all I’ve got.” He eased from the room and tried to forget the expression on her face.

Knew he probably never would.

The door that shut behind him sounded more like a prison cell. Only it wasn’t her in the cell…it was him. And for the first time, he had a glimpse of the other side, and he wanted out. He wanted one night to turn into ten. Hell, he wanted them all.

But what they had wasn’t real. Nothing in Vegas was real, and Ellie had nailed him on that point. But he’d never wanted more. Not until her. All he knew how to do was walk away from sex, but what they’d shared had gone so far beyond sex. He would have chalked it up to that whole “What happens in Vegas…” nonsense, but they’d both been stone sober. Whatever happened between them
counted
. It meant something. Sex had always been a one-off kind of thing. But with her, he wanted the intimacy they’d somehow captured. Wanted her smile. Her laugh. The feel of her silky limbs stretched along his length. He wanted her friendship. To look forward to seeing her name pop up on his phone.

He wanted it all.

He couldn’t say he’d spent his life walking away from emotional entanglements because he’d sure as hell never come close to feeling whatever he felt for her. After one night, it scared the hell out of him, but he wanted it. He fucking
wanted
it.

But worrying about it was moot. No matter how much he wanted otherwise, theirs was a one-night thing. A weekend at best…a weekend with a
ski instructor
of all damned things. He just couldn’t go there. He couldn’t let himself care about someone who loved what he feared the most.

Didn’t matter how he felt. They’d never climb those mountains together.

The sooner he got a grip on that, the better.

…

Ellie stared at the door long after it shut behind Jax. Part of her ached for him, for whatever put the sorrow in his eyes, but a bigger part wanted to kick his ass. After what they’d shared, how could he even begin to think she still wanted anything to do with Focker? She didn’t care about the cover model or the ball or anything having to do with the convention. She cared about Jax. About stripping the sorrow from his eyes and making him smile again. He needed that. He needed
her
, and dammit, she needed to be there for him.

He knew it, but he’d closed down. Shut her out.

When she was growing up, her family had been distant. Closed off. She’d had every material thing she could have asked for, but she didn’t have their love. She hadn’t made a difference in their lives. But she could see the difference in Jax. He’d admitted as much, and in her twenty-eight years she’d learned that meant something.

Mattering to someone
meant
something.

But not if he didn’t want it.

She showered and dressed and hit the strip. By day, the hotels and casinos that lined the famed parts of Las Vegas Boulevard were almost normal in appearance. A little over the top, for sure, but the Masquerade really stood out with its brightly colored balls and ribbons. The carnival-like display made Circus Circus look subdued in comparison, which was saying something, considering the latter was built in the image of a circus tent.

Everything she saw reminded her of Jax. Couples held hands. Slot machines dinged. Hotel rooms loomed overhead.

What had gone wrong?

She’d seen enough movies to know the morning after tended to do a number on the events of the night before, but there were no expectations between her and Jax. He hadn’t made any promises. Hadn’t offered her the world.

He’d just given it to her.

She blinked back the sudden heat in her eyes. She had no idea what compelled her to tell him about her miserable experience, but he hadn’t run. That would have been too easy. Too merciful. Instead he’d given her soap opera sex. He’d devoured her with a tenderness she couldn’t have imagined. Encompassed her, body and soul, with the kind of warmth and passion that only happened in movie scripts. But there’d been nothing scripted about it. Just a sweet, heartfelt possession that shouldn’t have changed everything.

But it had.

He’d given her everything she’d ever wanted, but she’d known from the beginning it wouldn’t last. This wasn’t her home, it was his. And this wasn’t her life. She was nothing here…nothing but his. She couldn’t fault him for taking it away. No, it was much easier to shake her fist at the proverbial sky. Jax might be temporary, but too many pieces of her hadn’t gotten the memo.

She’d fallen. Hard.

It felt way too much like a high school crush, where something as small as a passing glance turned into initials sketched into hearts and whispers of forever. No grown woman should entertain such thoughts—especially in the face of knowing she had less than twenty-four hours to ever see him again—but somewhere in the dark he’d touched more than her body. They’d forged a connection that went so far beyond physical that the thought of losing it crippled her. But it wasn’t right. Couldn’t be. It didn’t matter that she’d never felt as close to another human being as she had him. It only mattered that in a matter of hours they’d be through.

Done.

Over.

Who was she kidding? After his exit, they probably already were.

I’m sorry if that’s not good enough, Colorado, but it’s all I’ve got.

She wondered if he had second thoughts. About taking her to the park. Going back to her room. Stealing her from Focker.

Telling her he’d give her back.

What a joke.

She wanted to tell him she wasn’t his to give, but she’d be his for a long time to come. She had quite a few mountains to climb to get past that, and she strongly suspected every clear blue sky she ever saw would be his. Every sunset. Every flaming red rock. Every dream, every memory. He’d changed it all.

She wouldn’t change that. Maybe the outcome—she wished they had more time—but what they had wasn’t meant to be anything more. She didn’t want to cling to him only to have things fall apart. She’d take what he’d given her and treasure it, and that would have to be enough.