Rules of Entanglement (3 page)

“Yeah, I know that feeling.” Jackson remembered the month when Lucie had pneumonia her sophomore year. The constant worry had driven him insane. To help break some of the tension, Jax took a jab at Reid. “Maybe you can pound some clay into submission to get it out of your system.”

“Listen, asshole, just because I replaced fighting with sculpting doesn’t mean I can’t still whoop your ass. Did everything go all right with Vanessa?”

Jax shrugged the shirt on and began buttoning it. “You know how I am with the ladies, Andrews.” A statement that answered absolutely nothing.

“Yeah, I do. So how’s your ego handling the rejection?”

Okay, that was freaky. Either Vanessa had called and ratted him out to Lucie—which he didn’t think she’d do, knowing how sick Lu was—or the woman had a rep as a man-eater a mile long. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Things couldn’t have gone better.”

“You’re almost as bad of a liar as Lucie, you know that?”

Jax thought about the lies he’d told not even half an hour ago and muttered, “Tell that to Vanessa.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jax leaned back against the bathroom sink and crossed his arms over his chest. “Hey, speaking of which, is she super religious or something?”

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Lying came up in conversation, and she was pretty adamant that she never does it. Like, ever. So if it’s not religion, what’s her deal?”

“It’s one of her lucky seven rules.”

Walking back into the break room area, he stopped to throw his discarded clothes in the locker and grab a bottle of water before heading out to the lobby. “Like the Golden Rule?”

“More like her own set of commandments minus the ‘thou shalt nots.’ According to Lu, she never breaks them.”

“Never, huh? Interesting.”

His friend’s sigh came through the phone, loud and clear. “Listen, Maris, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t mess around with her. I’ve seen her in action. Confident men approach her and by the time she’s through with them, they’re licking their wounds in the corner of the bar. And you’re not even
close
to her type.”

He smiled at the image Reid painted. “Well, I was planning on seeing how you like it when I seduce
your
sister, but seeing as you don’t have one, my dating calendar is pretty open this week. Besides, it sounds like fun.”

Yeah, like in the way trying to escape the lion enclosure at the zoo with steaks tied around his waist sounded like fun to the normal man. Then again, Jax never claimed to be normal.

“Hey,” Reid countered, “you and I both know that once the smoke cleared—and my
nose
healed—you were glad it was me with Luce and not someone else.”

The man had a point there.

“And secondly, I’m not fucking around, Jax. I need you to make sure everything goes smoothly out there. You told me you have a way of getting around the reservation policies, so focus on that. I refuse to tell Lu her dream wedding—the one she deserved to begin with instead of the joke of a ceremony that piece of shit gave her last time—is a no-go. You feel me?”

“Yeah,” Jax answered with steel in his voice. “I feel you.” Being reminded of the asshole who screwed his sister over years ago was all he needed to leave the joking behind. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting my sister’s wedding get canceled.”

He wanted to
guarantee
it wouldn’t get canceled. As part owner of the Mau Loa, he had that kind of power, but due to his contract, he couldn’t tell Reid or anyone else about his role. Several years ago, as a way of securing his future, Jax became a financial backer of the resort. Since his focus was on his fighting career and he didn’t want the notoriety that came with owning high-end resorts in Hawaii, he requested to be a silent partner. Jilli knew only because she’d stumbled upon the contract while cleaning his place when they were dating. He’d sworn her to secrecy, and she hadn’t let him down yet.

Jax took up residence against the front desk as he cracked his water open and winked at Jilli. He chugged the ice-cold liquid, letting Reid vent in his ear about all the bodily harm he’d impose on Jax if shit went south, just as Vanessa’s cab rounded the semicircular drive and pulled to a stop at the entrance. Though he’d just drank almost the whole bottle, as soon as the leggy redhead stepped from the car, his mouth went bone dry, his adrenaline kicked in, and somewhere he imagined a ring girl walking around holding up a giant card with
Round
1 painted in bold block letters.

Right then he made the decision to wait until she’d had a chance to settle in and relax before telling her the truth. Maybe he’d take her for a drink and tell her then. Surely she’d be less likely to hate him once she felt the sun on her face, the sand in her toes, and the booze in her veins. Right?

“No worries, man,” he assured his friend. “I’ve got everything under control.”

Reid’s curse wasn’t very encouraging. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“No idea. Gotta go.” Jax hit the end button as he pushed off the counter. “My fiancée’s here.”

…

Closing the trunk after extracting her bags, the driver accepted her money and hurriedly returned to his cab without so much as an “Aloha” before peeling away. She coughed from the exhaust and picked up her things to move onto the curb. Weren’t the island people supposed to be friendly and accommodating? Although, she supposed after making him wait for her at the airport and then stop at a little café so she could get a quick bite to eat, the guy had a right to be a little agitated. Still, it’s not like he hadn’t been duly compensated for his time.

What a day. Stranded at the airport, informed she needed to change identities, and stuck with the only surly cabbie in all of Oahu. Not exactly how she imagined her first few hours in one of the most beautiful, carefree places on Earth.

But, she amended, those had been things she couldn’t control. What she
could
control was how she dealt with her current situation and—

“Hello, sweetheart.”

—him.

Taking a deep breath, Vanessa turned and regarded the thorn in her side. He’d changed out of his surfer duds into something more appropriate for a man who’d supposedly just flown over from the continental forty-eight. His khaki cargo shorts paired with a lightweight white button-up and sandals said casual-and-understated.

So why the hell was she hearing sexy-and-overdressed?

Vanessa’s pulse jumped and goose bumps broke out over her skin despite the balmy weather. Standing as close as he was, he towered over her. The man was simply massive. How in the world did someone so big share the same DNA as her tiny friend?

Getting off to a rocky start with the man didn’t make her blind. He was easily one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. Too bad he so obviously broke several of her rules. Hell, if she were being honest, she’d bet he broke almost all of them.

Jackson bent down to pick up her duffel bag, and on the way back up, leaned in to press a warm kiss to her cheek. At the unexpected intimacy, she sucked in a breath and almost pulled away, but his soft words of warning held her in place. “Remember who we are here. If you accuse me of sexual harassment, there’s a good chance it’ll blow our cover.”

His low chuckle both liquefied her insides and made her blood boil. His infectious smile tempted the corners of her mouth to lift up the slightest bit, though she ordered them to hold firm. To save face, she went with it, widening her grin and telling him in the sweetest voice she could muster, “Don’t worry about me, darling, I have stellar acting skills in the courtroom. But if I were you, I’d worry about how thick you lay it on, because if you take advantage of this situation, you’ll have to worry about what I’ll do to your manhood once we’re behind closed doors instead.”

He raised his left eyebrow, which had a jagged white scar running diagonally through it, giving his good looks a rakish edge. Though she knew her appearance was nothing short of atrocious at this point, his eyes skimmed over her body like she’d been dipped in his favorite candy. Maybe the aloof Prince of Tides wasn’t as unaffected by her as he’d like her to think.

“Looking forward to it, princess,” he said, smirking in amusement and giving her a wink before walking into the lobby.

What was wrong with this guy? He should be backing down, talking her down, or at the very least, toning it down.
One
of those downs. That’s what any normal male would do when his junk was threatened. Maybe he was into masochism. That thought perked her up. A closet masochist would effectively douse any sparks of desire that may or may not be going off somewhere deep inside her every time he turned those light eyes on her.

Feeling better already, Vanessa grabbed the handle of her suitcase and wheeled it behind her along the tiled entrance of the lobby. Jackson stood at the front desk speaking with an exotically pretty woman who handed him an envelope of paperwork and two key cards with a smile that probably won her customer service awards.

“There’s my lovely bride,” Jackson announced as he put an arm around her waist and pulled her into his side.

“Bride-to-be, dear,” she said with a fake look of happiness frozen on her face. “I’m not officially your bride yet.” Then, before she could stop herself, she added, “And anything can happen between now and then.”

As the lunatic holding her laughed, the woman behind the counter assessed her in the way women size up their competition. Not that it was obvious, but Vanessa noticed the split-second crack in her Employee of the Month persona before picking up where she’d left off.

“Welcome to the Mau Loa, Miss Miller. It’s a pleasure to have you and Mr. Andrews at our resort. If there’s anything we can do to make your stay more enjoyable, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you…” She glanced at the nametag that claimed her as the reservations manager. “Jillian. I’m sure everything will be fine. In regards to meeting with the wedding coordinator, can you please tell me when my—”

Jackson cleared his throat and gave her waist a squeeze. She barely stopped an eye roll.

“—
our
first appointment is?”

“Of course. Let me check that for you.” After a few moments clacking her nails over the keyboard, she said, “You’re scheduled to meet with him at four o’clock this afternoon in the Honu Café.”

“Great,” Jackson said with a light slap on the counter, as though it signaled the end of their discussion. “Now, Jilli, if you don’t mind, it’s been a long trip so I’d like to get Lucie to our bungalow so she can freshen up. She normally doesn’t look quite so haggard.”

The air from Vanessa’s lungs slammed out like he’d just punched her between the shoulder blades. Was he serious? Her pulse spiked and her need to fire back clouded her better judgment—and opened her big, fat mouth. “Well, at least I can fix my problem with a shower, darling. You need a tiny blue
pill
to fix yours.”

Jackson barked out a strange combination of choking and laughter, which he tried to bring under control behind his fist. Before she could stop, think, and regret the words she’d just put in her best friend’s mouth, she snatched the envelope and keys off the counter. “Why don’t you go make friends while I
freshen up
for you? I’ll probably be a while, so I’d take my time if I were you.”

Catching the eye of the woman who stood with equal parts shock and delight on her face, Vanessa gave her the best apologetic look she could muster. “I’m so sorry. I’m under a lot of stress right now with the wedding and all, so I’m not quite myself. Thank you so much for your help.”

Without a backward glance, Vanessa spun on her wedge sandals and strode in the opposite direction of the entrance, hoping it would lead her toward her bungalow. Stepping into the sunshine, she found a gigantic pool and several hot tubs surrounded by lush palm trees and occupied lounge chairs. A waterfall cascaded down a large rock face on one side, bringing a bit of the island inside the resort parameters.

As she followed one of the paths that led her around the more touristy areas, she peered at the guests through the cover of her sunglasses. Though she couldn’t be sure, she swore she saw Reese Witherspoon with her husband in the pool and someone who looked a lot like Alec Baldwin standing by the bar. Lucky for them she was too exhausted to be even remotely starstruck and kept on walking, eager to find her destination.

The Mau Loa wasn’t like the other commercial resorts on the island. It didn’t have hundreds of rooms in a gigantic hotel-style building. Instead, it housed several dozen private bungalows spread throughout the property. Essentially small homes in the lap of luxury surrounded by paradise. Not too shabby.

It only took her a few minutes to find her bungalow on the outermost boundary, making it one of the more private houses. Relieved, she quickly used her key and entered the white stucco home. The inside looked like something out of a travel magazine. Large, open, and breezy, everything in white or muted blues to match the ocean only a stone’s throw away from her front lanai.

The main room consisted of a cozy living area with inviting couches like clouds plucked out of the sky. The wall on the left was made entirely of sliding glass doors that opened onto a small yard, complete with kidney-shaped pool, hot tub, small bar, outdoor shower, and hammock, surrounded by an eight-foot-tall privacy fence. The small but fully stocked kitchen sat off to the right of the living area, separated by a breakfast bar and stools.

Vanessa crossed the room and opened the door on the far wall to find the most romantic bedroom she’d ever seen. A wispy canopy draped the sides of a gigantic four-poster bed and rippled in the sea breeze sweeping in from the open French doors that also led to the private yard.

Just then a porter arrived with her bags. She wasted no time grabbing fresh clothes and hopping in the shower. She couldn’t remember the last time hot water felt so good and the orange honeysuckle scent of all her bathing products relaxed and invigorated her at the same time. After toweling off and slipping into a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt, she headed straight for the bed.