The Carrero Effect Trilogy

Chapter 22-B

My door opens, and Jake strolls in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. All anger dissipates when I see him; his jeans, tight white T-shirt, and leather jacket make me weak. He’s effortlessly Hollywood. I bite my lip as I try not to fall into a daydream about the things he does to me.

“Ready? You’ve been ages, baby.” His all-too-perfect smile flashes my way. Spying the case, he moves forward to pick it up and checks for my passport and iPad inside. I stand watching him, bemused. He walks over to my bedside table and lifts a couple of books I’m in the process of reading, and slides them into my case along with my phone, which is now on the bed.

“Need any help there?” I ask with a laugh.

Fairly sure he could have packed my clothes too, at this rate.

“Toiletries?” He raises an eyebrow, ignoring my sarcasm as I steadily watch him with the overwhelming desire to sigh at him. Nothing he does should surprise me.

“In the case,” I reply blandly.

“Sexy lingerie? You know that corset thing I spied back when I helped you clear out your clothes?” He looks me up and down. I guess it’s been on his mind since then, and that thought pleases me, the fact he still remembers, and I’ve never actually worn it.

“In the top drawer.” I point to the dresser and move past him, but I halt as he yanks it open and empties the contents into my case.

“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing at him in surprise as he attempts to push everything down to fit.

“I think, as your boyfriend, I should know every piece of your underwear intimately … for future gift buying.” He smirks and closes the case, pushing its sides to try and conceal the bulge. “You can model it all for me when we get to the yacht. I think I should get a job as your un-dresser.”

I sigh this time and can only shake my head.

What the hell am I going to do with him? I don’t think I’ll get much of a tan on this yacht break. I’m starting to think keeping me in bed as a sex slave has been his plan all along. And he said he wanted to take me away so our relationship would be more than sex! I’m starting to wonder if he’s capable of that at all.

He stops by my oversized bear and frowns at him.

“You won him for me in Las Vegas, remember? I named him Joey,” I remind him, following his death glare with amusement.

“You’ve been sharing your bed with this fella?” he asks seriously. I can’t see any humor in his eye, but he’s not being serious.

“I have,” I smile demurely and wink at Joey for added effect. He picks the bear up by the throat rather aggressively.

“By the time we come back, buddy, I want to find that you’ve moved back into the wardrobe, or there’ll be hell to pay. I share her bed now; I’m the only guy she’ll be cuddling up with.” He grins at me and throws the bear across the room at my door in grand fashion, and I watch as it slumps ungracefully into an unloved heap.

“Poor Joey, he never did anything wrong … a perfect gentleman every night,” I pout. “I never took you for the jealous type.” I poke him, but he drops my bag, grabs my hand, and pulls me into his embrace.

“I’m not the jealous type. I wasn’t. But with you … maybe.” He kisses me firmly, my body melting into his.

“Just don’t turn cray-cray on my ass. I don’t mind jealous as long as you don’t take a lighter to my teddy bear,” I giggle, only his face turns serious momentarily, leaning back to look at me with a mock deadpan focus.

“Don’t put ideas in my head.” He catches me with a swift kiss, then turns me in a twirl and pats my butt to get me moving before scooping up my case.

“You don’t need any encouragement,” I say, fluttering my lashes back at him. Catching my face in his free hand, he squeezes my cheeks slightly so my lips pucker up.

“You’re just so freaking cute. I could eat this face.” He leans in, nibbles my lip, then kisses me on the nose amid my giggles and protests.

Having been brought up to speed by Jake about our little vacation, Sarah meets me in the hall and gives me a huge cuddle as she showers me with all her departing advice: be safe, don’t drink too much, don’t sleep in the sun, send her updates. I smile and peck her on the cheek, a little overwhelmed with the speed at which this is happening. Such is life with Jake; I should be used to the whirlwind he is by now.

“Don’t let Marcus sleep in my bed when you have a fight; Jake may take a blow torch to him. I think he just killed my teddy bear.” I pass her with a pat on the head and move toward the front door.

“What can I say?” He shrugs at Sarah, leaning down to plant an unexpected kiss on her cheek. She looks surprised and flushes. “The dirty fur-ball had been sleeping with my girl.” She waves us off amid a flurry of giggles as I roll my eyes at him. I lead the way out the door and pull it closed behind us.

“You can stop torturing girls wherever we go, Casanova. I know you get your kicks out of the reaction, but your new ‘girl’ might have reason to start feeling jealous too,” I say light-heartedly. Still, somehow it comes out more serious than I intended, insecure Emma clawing free, and I hate that I just momentarily doubted my best friend. He pushes my bag under his arm with one hand and grabs me with the other, catching my wrist and hauling me back to him for a deep kiss.

“Sarah gave me some good advice while you took about three hours to get ready. I wasn’t trying to get a reaction, dolcezza; I was grateful. I’ll never make you jealous, either. I’m sorry, baby.” He kisses me, breaking away to rub his nose against mine, a little show of affection I’m fond of. “I am not interested in getting reactions from other women … only you.”

I smile up at him shyly. He always knows just what to say to me. My inner anxiety fades away, replaced with a sudden desire to curl around him and squeeze him tightly.

“What advice did she give you?” I question softly, my arms finding his waist, even though we’re still standing at the top of the stairs in my apartment building, his mouth staying close to mine.

“To remember how easy it is for you to hide behind that wall when you’re scared and never to let it stand between us again.” He kisses my forehead softly. “She reminded me that, despite seeming like you’re always in control and capable, deep down, you’re that same kid from Chicago who learned to keep people out. No one protected you, but I’m here now, and I’ll always look after you, il Mio Amore.” He kisses me again slowly, more deliberately, sending my heart into a fluttering mess as I become putty in his hands.

“I know you will,” I answer honestly, my mind casting back to Ray Vanquis and Jake’s admission that Ray was gone from my mother’s life for good. He smiles at me, locking eyes, before guiding me down the stairs to the car in the street below.

Some teenagers have gathered around, admiring it, and they stand back in awe when he opens the door and throws my bag into the tiny rear seat. Jake thanks the kids for watching his car and hands them some cash with smiles and high fives. One of them whispers loudly that he knows who he is, and they all seem to flush. I notice he’s given each of them a fifty, and I almost balk at it. Kids from around here aren’t exactly well-off; he probably just made their month. What a way to spend a few hundred bucks. Something I don’t think I’ll ever get used to with him is his complete disregard for money.

They stand back in admiration to watch us drive off.

***

Less than an hour later, we’re boarding Jake’s private jet at the airport with all our bags in tow. This has happened so fast that I’ve barely had time to think, let alone breathe. I feel like I’m running away from work, life, and everything and taking a time-out in some fantasy romance novel with a millionaire who can pull strings like no one else. Since we used to take business trips at the drop of a hat, I should be used to this side of him, and to him, this is no different. To me, though, this is craziness. My whole world has been upended overnight.

Jake pulls me up the steps and into the jet with him. There’s a sense of familiarity that feels so good. I missed this plane; I missed everything that was a part of him, of being with him. I missed our trips together.

He guides me to a window seat and slides in next to me, laying a hand on my lap with a smile and another kiss. Jake’s constant kissing is starting to be my normal, but it still catches me by surprise how demonstrative he can be; I’ll never tire of it. With the hugging, hand-holding, affectionate gestures, and constant verbal praise, I never imagined he would be this way. I never saw it with any of the women he hauled along or went out with; they were the ones who always clung to him, pushed him for a kiss, or grabbed his hand to hold, always trying to get affection from him. He always seemed aloof and overly polite with them.

He shifts in his seat to retrieve his phone from his pocket and looks down at the vibrating gadget; a frown of frustration crosses his face. He glances at me with a fleeting moment of doubt, then answers hesitantly.

“Marissa. How can I help you?” he sounds tense and glances my way warily, obviously watching for my reaction.

My stomach drops, and I turn away to look out the window, biting my lip in vain. I won’t let him see me upset over this. She had to surface at some point; I couldn’t go on pretending she didn’t exist. His hand finds mine on my lap and pulls it back to him, entwining our fingers gently and giving me much-needed attention and reassurance.

My caring boyfriend.

Who knew that Casanova Carrero could be this attentive? So in tune with me that he knows when I need his touch.