Giving In: Surrender Trilogy (9 page)

“This is no goddamn game, Kylie. Not to me. Never to me. You are not a game. You aren’t a challenge, a notch on my bedpost. I don’t fuck around. I haven’t fucked my way through countless women and I’m not some bored bastard who sees getting with you as a victory.”

She was speechless. Utterly speechless. Her hands shook so hard that she had to put her water glass down because liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling onto the table.

“What do you want from me?” she croaked.

His gaze was direct and unflinching. Grim and unrelenting.

“You. Just you, Kylie. And everything you have to give.”

She was light-headed from holding her breath for so long and she forced herself to breathe as spots appeared in her vision. She had to hold it together and not melt down right in the middle of the restaurant.

“I don’t have anything to give you,” she said softly.

For some reason the starkness of her statement made her want to cry. Tears burned her eyelids but she refused to let them fall. She had nothing to offer this man. Any man. But certainly not someone like Jensen who could have any woman he wanted. Who would never have to look far for female companionship. There was probably a line outside his bedroom door.

“You’re wrong,” he said just as softly.

He didn’t expound. Just kept staring at her with that intense gaze, his eyes never leaving her face, taking in every thought, every reaction. She was certain he could see the tears glittering in her eyes, burning, begging to fall free. She swallowed hard, her head aching with the effort not to allow him to see how affected she was by . . . him.

But he knew. Damn the man, he knew. At least he wasn’t smug. He didn’t look triumphant. He just stared tenderly at her, like he always did, as if he knew exactly the battle she waged with herself. Saw every fear. Heard every doubt. And yet he still wanted her.

It baffled and awed her all at the same time.

“It’s just a date,” he said mildly. “Dinner. Maybe a movie. We could rent something and relax on the couch. I won’t try and get into your pants. Yet,” he added with a sly grin.

His teasing should infuriate her, but she was grateful because his levity took the burn from her eyes and lessened her need to weep.

It was just dinner. What was the harm? Even as she asked that stupid question she knew the answer. Giving in to him would be like opening the gates to an invading army. Give him an inch and he’d take the whole bloody mile.

“You’re starting to bruise my ego,” he said dryly. “Surely I’m not so terrible.”

“No,” she said quietly, not willing to let him think so. He’d done too much for her. Been too kind, understanding. He’d seen her at her worst. How could she ever think he was horrible?

“Well, that’s something,” he said, breathing out with exaggerated relief. “Now, about dinner. I promise not to take you back to the place that caters to rich old farts. Is it a date?”

She laughed, unable to prevent her reaction to him. He could be quite charming when he wasn’t all broody and intense—which was most of the time. Why was it she thought that she was the only person who saw this side of him? It was awfully egotistical of her to assume and yet the thought took hold and wouldn’t go away. She’d seen the way he was with others. Polite, but distant. Observant. Ever watchful.

“All right,” she finally conceded.

She’d vowed she was through being a coward, and to turn him down would be the height of cowardice. Especially after last night. She refused to tuck tail and run even if that’s what her instincts were screaming at her to do. But it was time to start refashioning her outlook on life and stop cowering at the least bit of conflict. She couldn’t avoid the rest of the world forever. Perhaps going out with Jensen would give her back a little of herself in the process.

Or maybe she’d end up losing every part of herself to him.

“Oh crap,” she murmured, her eyes closing.

“What?”

She reopened them, hoping he could see how earnest she was. “I can’t go to dinner with you Friday night.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

She sighed. “I promised to have dinner with Chessy. Tate is entertaining an important client and with Joss gone, she’s been lonely. I can’t ditch her, Jensen. Tate’s been so busy with work and I worry about her.”

Jensen smiled at her. “You’re a very loyal friend. She’s lucky to have you. I’ll let you off the hook if you’ll give me Saturday night.”

Relief rushed through her veins. “Deal.”

“Perfect then. I’ll pick you up at six thirty. Dress casual. You want to watch movies at your place or mine?”

It was stupid that panic frayed her nerves at the idea of being in Jensen’s space. Of being alone with him in his home. He’d been alone with her in hers! Hell, he’d slept in her bed, wrapped solidly around her.

“My place,” she said quickly, hoping he didn’t pick up on that sudden surge of panic and take it personally.

But he only smiled that same damn smile that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking
and
feeling.

“Your place it is. If you’d prefer not to go out, I could cook you dinner at your house and then we can watch movies,” he said in a casual tone.

She frowned. “That hardly seems fair. Shouldn’t I be cooking for you?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I invited you on a date and if you’re giving me your hospitality, the least I can do is cook a meal for you. Besides, I’m an excellent cook, if I do say so myself.”

She held up her hands. “Okay, okay. You win. Give me a list of everything you need and I’ll run by the store Saturday morning.”

He shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. All I ask is for you to sit and keep me company while I work my magic in your kitchen.”

“It certainly appears I’m getting the better end of this deal,” she said dryly.

“On the contrary,” he said softly. “I get your company. I find that’s worth a hell of a lot more than one cooked meal.”

She was speechless again, an affliction she seemed to suffer on a regular basis around him. And the hell of it was he sounded absolutely sincere.

“I swear I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Jensen Tucker,” she said in a bewildered voice.

He smiled. “If you don’t know, I’ll be happy to show you.”

IF
Kylie expected hers and Jensen’s relationship to be strained in the office, she was wrong. She’d expected awkwardness. Even outright discomfort. She wasn’t a fool and even she wasn’t so ensconced in denial that she could ignore the current of attraction between her and Jensen.

What was the old saying? Opposites attract?

And in their case, could they possibly be more opposite? She and Jensen were
polar
opposites. He was strong, invulnerable, courageous, confident. Nothing would ever get him down. He oozed authority and self-assurance and she envied him that. She was weak, a coward, and confidence could never be listed as one of her better qualities.

She sat in her office, staring down at one of the many reports she was supposed to proof and get back to Jensen within the hour. But she was numb, her mind blank. And if she was going to be honest, and she certainly hadn’t held back with herself yet, she was terrified to face him.

They had a date tomorrow night. He’d spent the night in her bed. They’d gone to lunch where he’d asked her on a real date. And he’d made it clear that it would have nothing to do with business.

How was she supposed to act around him? She nearly laughed at the idea that somehow she was living one of those crackalicious category romances she read about CEOs and their secretaries. Bosses and their personal assistants. In real life, most people were well aware of the difficulties in mixing business and pleasure and most companies had strict rules about their employees becoming personally involved.

But Dash and Jensen answered to no one save themselves. They weren’t a typical corporation and Kylie pitied the person who ever tried to tell them how to run their business.

They didn’t have an employee handbook and there certainly wasn’t a rule against employee fraternization. But that didn’t mean that Kylie wasn’t a complete idiot for becoming involved with Jensen Tucker.

“Let’s separate the fact that he’s your boss,” Kylie muttered grimly to herself. “That’s the most obvious one under the ‘no’ category.”

There was also the fact that he was the antithesis of what she wanted or needed from a man. She couldn’t really say what she wanted, though. Because the truth was she hadn’t sought out relationships with men. Sure, she’d had a few casual dates here and there, but it had quickly become evident that Kylie’s issues weren’t endearing her to the men who asked her out.

She couldn’t blame them. She could reflect on herself objectively and realize that she was difficult. Bitchy, prickly, defensive and timid. Not the hallmarks of a desirable, kickass woman who made men drool at a hundred paces.

Still, it was nice to think about having that effect on men just once. That Kylie could actually summon the courage to be ballsy and confident. Walk into a room like she owned it in a pair of killer heels and a dress to die for and have every man there wanting her.

“Yeah, and then what would you do with them?” she said in disgust.

Absolutely nothing. That was what. She’d run like the chicken she was and she’d stick her head in the sand like an ostrich and pray that life passed her by and didn’t use her as a whipping post anymore.

At what point was she going to say
enough
? She was in her midtwenties. Still young by all accounts, and yet there were days she felt so much older. The weight of a lifetime bearing down on her, suffocating and miserable. Her childhood had seemed to last an eternity, her imprisonment stretching to infinity.

At her worst times, when she and Carson were just children, she’d had the secret hope that she could end it all. It shamed her now to even think of just how close she’d come to taking her own life. She’d been just a child, and what child had such dark, horrific thoughts?

The only thing that had stopped her was the fact that Carson would be by himself. He and he alone would bear the brunt of her father’s rage. And she wouldn’t allow that.

Carson had put himself in between her and her father many times, but just as many times, Kylie had done the same for him.

When her father was in a drunken rage, he seemed to target Carson. It was the other times, when he was absolutely sober, that his hatred for Kylie shone through and nothing she did was right. Everything was a punishable offense. Carson had tried to protect her just as Kylie protected him when their father drank too much and vented his rage on his son.

She’d never admitted to Carson that she’d considered suicide. It would have destroyed him. Kylie had never told anyone at all. It had remained her darkest secret, buried under layers of hurt and despair but still there. A memory that burned brightly in Kylie’s mind. A reminder of how close she’d come to her breaking point.

And yet she seemed to be drifting further in the direction of that dark, murky past. Seemed to be reaching that breaking point that she’d never quite come to before. Why now?

She was safe from her father. No one could hurt her. She had a home, her fortress, where she could lock herself behind the walls and have a safe haven, no intrusion from the outside world.

Carson’s death had been a strain on her. Was still a strain. Maybe she’d never properly dealt with her grief. She’d performed robotically during the entire ordeal, unable to comprehend that the only person who’d ever loved and protected her was gone. That she was alone in the world, the one thing she’d always feared the most.

She’d known that Carson and Joss would be her only family. That she had no desire for one of her own. She’d also known that Carson didn’t want children, though Joss did. She understood his fear. That somehow their tainted genes would be passed down to his children. It was a fear she shared.

Her own mother had abandoned them to a monster she knew was capable of horrific atrocities. She had no example. No one to look up to. An absent mother and a father who was alcoholic and abusive and a misogynist to boot.

She shook her head, her lips tight. No, she didn’t want to risk having children either. What if she was a horrible mother? What if her children turned into monsters like her own parents? God only knew all the things that could go wrong if she or Carson ever had children.

She was perfectly content for her father’s name and blood to die with her, his only remaining blood relative in this world. If only she could take him to hell with her. Because God knew, she lived that hell every single day and had since she was just a baby.

“Do you have those reports ready?”

Jensen’s crisp voice came over the intercom, startling Kylie from her dark thoughts.

She ruffled the papers frantically, glancing to see that she had indeed finished proofing the stack.

“Yes,” she replied, hating the catch in her voice. “Would you like me to bring them to you?”

“Yes, please.”

She rose and gathered the papers, tidying them into a neat stack. Then she sucked in a deep breath and strode down the hall to Jensen’s office. His door was open and he wasn’t paying attention. His attention was focused on his computer and he wore a slight frown.

His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie had long been shed. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his jacket tossed over a nearby chair.

He was a creature of comfort, and while Dash and Carson both seemed comfortable in finer clothes and embraced the world they’d created for themselves, Jensen seemed less at ease. He was quiet, reserved. And he seemed content to allow Dash to do most of the talking.

But Kylie would bet her entire paycheck that Jensen didn’t miss a single beat. That he knew every single client and the ins and outs of the contracts and the job that needed to be done.

She approached his desk hesitantly, not wanting to disturb his obvious concentration. She slid the stack of papers onto the edge and turned hastily, intending to get out quickly.

“Kylie, wait,” Jensen commanded.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d known the moment she’d come through the door. Even though he hadn’t acknowledged her in any way and had kept his focus on whatever he was studying on his computer screen.