Page 4 of Jack's Devotion

"He already knows."

"Christ on a cracker!" I scream, spinning around so fast I crash into the wall. An oar mounted as décor wobbles overhead before whipping sideways. I hit the floor on my hands and knees, narrowly avoiding being cracked against the skull with it.

"This town is seriously trying to kill me," I groan, my hands and knees stinging from the sudden drop.

"Shit!" Jack falls to his knees beside me, reaching out for me. "Are you okay? Let me see your head."

My gaze flies to his.

Startling blue eyes lock with mine.

"I…" I swallow a whimper, staring at him helplessly. I know words. Can't think of any right now, but I definitely know them.

I was just a kid the last time I saw Jack Whitlock, and he was…Lord, he was beautiful even then. He hasn't changed much. Hell, I think he's grown more beautiful.

Messy dark hair sweeps over his forehead, ending just above his brows. His face is a study in perfection—every sharp angle and razor-sharp line stunning. His body is rock solid, definitely not the body of a billionaire married to his job. But Jack has never been a normal man. He's always seemed a little bit larger than life to me.

He certainlylookslarger than life looming over me like he is right now. I'm not a small girl by any means, but I feel downright tiny next to him.

And he's looking at me—reallylooking at me.

The intense urge to bite his bottom lip rages through me.

I whimper despite myself.

"Fuck," he rumbles, confusion sweeping through his expression, followed by something fierce. His hand comes up as if in a trance, tilting my head back. "I know you."

I avert my gaze, my stomach fluttering like crazy.

If Jack Whitlock knows me, it's not because he remembers the awkward, chubby girl with a massive crush I was the last time we were in a room together. I was seventeen. He was in his late twenties. I wasn't on his radar when we weren't even in the same stratosphere.

No, if he knows me, it's because…

"Madison Laurent," he says, satisfaction thrumming in his deep voice. "The missing heiress."

That's how he knows me. It's the only way anyone in this town knows me—as the poor little rich girl who mysteriously disappeared. Except…there is no mystery here, not really.

My father was planning to kill me to get my money and company, so I ran to save my own life. Mystery officially solved.

I pull away from him.

"Baby, let me see your head."

His soft command sends a jolt through my system, shocking me back into the here and now…where my hands and knees sting and I'm staring at the man I crushed on for years. One who doesn't know he's been housing me for the last few days.

In no reality is this good.

"My head is fine. My freaking heart is in danger of exploding though." I shoot him a look rife with annoyance. "You couldn't have announced yourself to spare me the heart attack?"

"I thought you were a fucking ghost."

"Ironic."

"Why?"

"Because everyone else thinks I'm a ghost too."

"Huh. Maybe you are concussed. Let me check you over, baby." His strong hands wrap around my waist, gently hauling me off the floor and onto his lap. He tilts my head this way and that, meticulously looking me over before grunting as if satisfied.

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