Page 9 of Size Doesn't Matter

“This thing you need to tell me,” she said, lifting her chin in a show of confidence she didn’t quite feel, “is it more important than, say, getting naked and enjoying a night of enthusiastic and imaginative sex?”

The sound that escaped Jack was half chuckle, half pained groan, and the last of her nerves settled as she regained control of herself. “I’m afraid so,” he said.

Turning in his arms, Sophie slid her hands over his chest and nuzzled against his jaw, then nipped at the sensitive skin just below his earlobe and smiled when she felt him shiver. “And it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

Jack sighed and extricated himself from her embrace, holding her hands in his. “Once I tell you what I need to tell you, there might not be a tomorrow.”

Brow scrunched and eyes narrowed, she asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His jaw tightened, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. “It’s about Ethan.”

Resisting the urge to yank her hands away and fold her arms across her chest to barricade herself against whatever he was about to say, Sophie said, “Then you definitely shouldn’t tell me.”

The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Ethan.

She wanted to lose herself in Jack, to enjoy more of his sensual kisses and heated looks and strong hands on her skin.

She didn’t want to think.

She wanted to fuck.

She wanted to let go, to forget, to just…havefun.

Jack’s smile was bashful, almost grateful, before his mouth fell back into its former tight line and he raked one hand through his hair. “That’s not really an option at this point.” He cleared his throat and looked away, smoothing his hand down his shirtfront.

What could possibly make a grown man so nervous?

When the lift doors opened on the seventh floor, Jack again slid his hand to the small of Sophie’s back and guided her into the hallway. “I’m up this way,” he said, indicating the door to the far left.

The décor was a lot more lavish than the hallway on the third floor, where her modest room was situated. The carpet was plush, the wall sconces handmade, the artwork not mass-produced. And that was when she remembered the hotel only had seven floors. Her gaze slid sideways, her eyes wide as she took in the man beside her. Jack was staying in one of the penthouses.

Who is this guy? And what is he to Ethan?

As if reading her mind, Jack said, “Did Ethan ever talk to you about his family?”

Steeling herself for whatever bomb Jack was about to drop, Sophie said, “Talking about anything was never really high on Ethan’s list of priorities, but yes, he did.”

“What did he tell you?” Jack’s tone was conversational, but his hand flexed against her lower back as he guided her to his door, as if he’d felt the sudden stiffness in her spine.

What had she gotten herself into? “No offence, but until I know who you are to Ethan, I’m not telling you anything that was told to me in private.”

Jack chuckled and smiled broadly, transforming his expression into something almost boyish. “Beautiful, sensible, and trustworthy.” Then that smile turned wry. “My brother is a fucking idiot.”

“Brother?” Sophie stopped walking and stared at the back of Jack’s head as he continued marching towards his room. He stopped when their hands began to pull apart and looked back over his shoulder, that wry grin of his coupled with a searching gaze. “Ethan’s brother is called Jonathon,” she said, the words barely squeezing past the lump in her throat.

Shaking his head, Jack said, “I hate it when he calls me that.” Then he sighed and added, “Which is probably why he does it.”

Wait. What?Every fibre of Sophie’s body froze, her mouth ran dry, and she swallowed hard, almost choking on her incredulity.“I’m sorry, but it sounded like you said you’re Ethan’s brother.”

He inclined his head. “That’s exactly what I said.”

She took a step back, and this time he let her, their fingers untwining, their hands falling apart. But the more she stared at him and let her gaze travel over his slim yet well-built frame, his long legs and trim waist, strong chest, stubbled chin and tousled hair, the more her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You look nothing like him.”

Jack bit back a laugh. “Look closer,” he said, pointing to his eyes.

Almost squinting to see, Sophie stared into his eyes, but the muted hallway lighting wasn’t ideal. Finding the torch app on her phone, she shone a light in Jack’s eyes, making him wince and scowl, but she saw what he was talking about. His eyes were a very particular shade of sapphire blue. The exact same shade of blue as Ethan’s.

“Oh my God,” she groaned. “You’re Ethan’s brother.”

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