Page 82 of Dirty Gambit

She lifted her hand and lightly brushed his smooth cheek with the pad of her thumb. “How’d I get so lucky?”

He turned his face into her touch to brush a kiss to her palm. “I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately.”

Lena smiled. “Jaxon?”

“Yeah?”

She slid her hand along the nape of his neck. “Kiss me.”

Epilogue

JAXON

Two Years Later…

She was intentionally killing him.

Maybe it was the dress she’d picked for the evening or the way she’d left her long, dark hair unbound and in waves down her back, or maybe it was the way she kept slanting him sidelong glances across the room, the barest hint of a grin curling her red lips.

Jaxon settled on the latter.

It was the glint in her hooded eyes, the dark promise to finish what she’d started on the drive to his parents. He’d been prepared to settle it in the driveway, but the little brat had rolled out of her seat with a giggle and practically sprinted to the front doors, ice pick heels cracking on cobblestone, one long, toned leg exposed through the wide slit in her dress. She’d paused on the front steps briefly to peek back over one bare shoulder to where he still sat behind the wheel, cock a hard rod resting against the cold metal of his belt, abandoned. Then she’d been gone and he’d sworn silent vengeance first chance he got.

Now, he stood on the outskirts of the party, holding up a wall with one shoulder while his seductive temptress helped his mother greet the guests.

The turnout was the same as every other year with the added addition of a small gang of four-year-olds from Jessie’s preschool trampling across the house wearing triangle party hats and trailing purple streamers. Jaxon didn’t recognize any of them, but he could just make out his sister’s dark head bobbing amongst them, no doubt rallying her makeshift army into stealing gifts from the mountain in the dining room after their first attempts had been thwarted by his mom. Jaxon wondered if he should tell her it wouldn’t work. Mom had a sixth sense for trouble. She would be on them before they even reached the doorway.

He decided against it.

Some lessons, she would have to learn on her own as he had. Besides, he had his own mission to execute, his own battle strategy to map out.

The woman in question stood twenty feet from him, a vision in a form-fitting dress that clung to every line, every curve and bump as if painted on. Thin straps hugged naked shoulders, exposing the neatly patched up scar marring her otherwise flawless skin. Someone had suggested she get it surgically covered, but Lena had refused.

“Some reminders make us stronger,” she’d said simply, and Jaxon almost agreed; the sight of it still filled him with dread, still made his stomach wrench. The memory for him wasn’t as philosophical or inspirational, but he didn’t push her on it. If it gave her strength, that was all that mattered.

Instead, he returned his focus on the fact that she wore nothing beneath her dress and wondered if anyone else could tell. Plenty of heads kept pivoting in her direction. Dozens of eyes roamed over her. Men and women always seemed so drawn to her, no matter the occasion. Lena claimed it was because of what happened with Travis and Jessie. Jaxon disagreed.

She had always been breathtaking, had always held the power to summon attention simply by walking into a room. At least, that was how she’d captured his attention.

Now, she had power. She had wealth, social standing, and a voice that carried and demanded respect. She had taken the tragedies of her past and built an empire from the ashes. She had used the media to tear into everything lacking in the foster care system and implemented measures to protect the children, and with his mother’s help and guidance, she had raised millions in funds to build Hands to Hearts, a nonprofit organization dedicated to the welfare and support of foster children across Ontario. It was their brainchild, their baby, and it was growing at an alarming rate, raising the adoption rate by fifteen percent that year alone.

Jaxon couldn’t have been prouder of them both, but watching Lena conquer and flourish, watching her business bloom, watching book deals and movie options rain down on her filled him with smug arrogance. Watching her step into a room and hear people whisper how amazing and successful his Lena was, how inspirational and driven always brought a little grin to his lips. He wanted that for her. He wanted her to dominate, wanted her to own every space she occupied. He wanted her to be happy with the work she was doing, the lives she was changing. Sure, it meant late nights and early mornings, but he had his whole life with her.

“There you are.” His father appeared next to him, a tumbler of whiskey in hand. “What has you smirking like a cat?”

Jaxon pushed away from the wall and faced the other man with a shake of his head. “Just watching Mom and Lena work the crowd.”

“Ah!” They both glanced over to where the women stood surrounded by a small cluster of people, arm in arm, a unified team. His mom was talking while the group listened in rapture, a few nodding as if every word was gospel truth. “They do seem to be in their element,” his dad said, at last, taking a sip of his drink.

“Lena was telling me about the second youth center they were trying to open by the end of the year,” Jaxon explained, eyes narrowing on the group as if he could somehow hear the conversation. “That’s probably what they’re talking about.”

His dad nodded but turned away from the women to face his son fully. “Your mom and I were talking last night.”

Jaxon arched an eyebrow. “Uh oh.”

The other man waved away the teasing with a flick of his wrist. “Nothing like that. We were just wondering what you and Lena had planned for the future. That’s all.”

Jaxon slanted another glance in the direction of the beauty who held his heart and shrugged. “That’s a good question.”

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