Page 20 of Last Shot

Max could have sworn the corners of Jett’s mouth twitched. But his face remained stone as he assessed her. She felt the need to defend her dishevelled appearance. Exactly how many women had the Barbarani driver dropped off at the mansion last night?

‘You’re the girl who bid on Luca,’ he said finally. ‘I confess, I’m disappointed. It’s been a while since Grey – well, that’s none of my business.’ It was clear that he thought it was.

‘His lack of romantic intimacy doesn’t seem like such a puzzle to me,’ Max said. ‘He’s a dick.’

Jett smirked, helping himself to a protein bar from an unopened box next to the fruit bowl. ‘How long have you known him?’ His eyes trailed over the stupid T-shirt she wished she’d burned with the lighter instead of throwing on.

She shrugged. ‘Five minutes.’ No point lying to this guy who knew Grey well enough to have his own key to his house and permission to eat his protein bars without asking.

Jett took a big bite of the bar and said, ‘Yeah, that’ll do it.’

She dug her gaze deeper into Jett’s uncomfortable face.

‘What are you to him?’

‘I told you. I’m his hostage.’

‘If this is some weird sex game thing between you, Luca and Grey, I don’t wanna hear any more—’

‘I am not sleeping with him! Or Luca.’

Jett crunched down on the bar, his face thoughtful. ‘All right, I believe you. You’re not exactly Grey’s type anyway. Or Luca’s, for that matter.’

So I’ve heard.‘Thanks.’

‘It was a compliment.’

Max looked away as he squinted at her again. It had been a long time since someone had assessed her this closely. ‘You one of Nella’s friends?’

Antonella Barbarani, the eldest. Lawyer. Distressingly beautiful.

‘Not exactly.’

‘Frankie’s?’

Francesca Barbarani. Youngest. Outcast. Environmental activist.

Jett’s line of questioning was problematic with the threat of murder metallic in the air.

‘Does Grey often let their friends stay in his house?’ How many people came in and out of the Barbarani mansion un-vetted? Look how easy it had been for her to get in last night. If she was going to figure out who was working with Kaine Skinner to take out the hit on Giovanni, she’d need a list.

‘Grey doesn’t really let anyone stay in his house.’ Jett frowned. ‘So I’m running out of options as to why you’re the exception.’

‘It can’t just be because I’m exceptional?’

His frown deepened. ‘No one’s exceptional. Not to Grey.’

‘You’re really talking him up.’

‘Not my job.’ He shrugged.

‘Right, you’re the clean-up crew?’ It had been half an hour since Grey had locked her in here. Something sharp wedged into her spine. What if she was too late? What if Skinner was already here? She had to get out.

‘I’m the Taxi,’ Jett said, scrunching up the empty protein bar wrapper and unpeeling a mandarin.

Had Jett locked the door? Could she distract him in time to wrench it open and bolt?

‘You’ll find out exactly what that entails once you’ve served whatever your purpose is here and he needs you gone.’

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