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  “Please, don’t tell me you’re the one Elly wants to have mentor my clients,” he scoffed, glaring at me now. “You’re the one who left Camille’s funeral early.” Crap. Of course, he’d been there. If the clinic was in her memory, he definitely attended her funeral. “We practically had to roll out the red carpet for you, and then you left before it was even over. Tell me, what in God’s name was so important that you had to leave when you were part of the reason we buried her. She made damn sure she fit in all those designer clothes of yours.”

  I swallowed the lump of guilt in my throat and looked away from him, feeling even more ashamed of myself. Elly did say he hated the fashion industry. I just hadn’t expected him to throw it in my face quite so directly. Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to even recognize me in the first place. I still hated the fact that I left Camille’s funeral early to catch a flight to Texas to enter rehab. I tried to arrange for a later flight, but everything was booked. After that whole ordeal, I finally just bought myself a plane so I could have a flight available whenever I wanted.

  Hearing the door to Maverick’s office open, I turned and watched Elly fly through the doorway. “Hey, guys! Sorry, I’m late.”

  “You’re always late,” Maverick quipped, smiling back at her.

  Damn, he had a great smile, too—big and full of pearly whites. Part of me wished I was the one making him smile.

  I smiled weakly at her, and she caught it. She could feel the awkwardness in the room. She was intuitive like that.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” Maverick answered coolly, leaning back in his chair. “I’d just asked Jen here a question and I’m still waiting for her answer.”

  “Oh,” she said, crossing her arms. “I didn’t realize you two knew one another.”

  “Actually, we don’t,” I said softly, finally finding my voice. “Maverick asked what was so important that I had to leave Camille’s funeral early.” I found my courage, squared my shoulders, and turned all my attention toward him as I answered. “And the answer is rehab. I had to catch a flight back to Texas to enter rehab, and since all the later flights were booked, I had to leave early.”

  He looked down at his lap and shook his head slightly, as if he regretted everything he just said. Without even seeing his face, I could tell he felt bad, and it made the pull toward him tighten in my chest. I was used to people jumping to conclusions about me. The media. Fans. Hell, even my parents sometimes. But none of them ever felt bad about it. Just witnessing the remorse tense his body was enough for me to know he was a good guy. There was a good guy in there somewhere, and I wanted to meet him.

  Elly shook her head and looked over at me apologetically before storming toward Maverick. “May I have a word with you, please?”

  He pushed back his chair and followed Elly out of his office without a word. As he walked past me, his glare had disappeared and he looked genuinely sorry about being an asshole. And I silently forgave him because I knew Elly was upset with him already. I also knew that he was right. It was rude of me to leave her funeral early. A friend didn’t do that sort of thing. But now he understood that I really didn’t have a choice.

  Maverick

  Walking out into the hallway with Elly, I knew she was pissed. Heat practically rolled off of her and she was shooting daggers at me. Her arms were crossed. I knew what she looked like when she was angry and this was it.

  “What the hell is your problem?” she asked, shaking her head at me.

  “I don’t—”

  “No, don’t answer that. Just listen,” she interrupted. I really didn’t know what my problem was. That guy back there wasn’t me. “Jen Harper is a studio name. Her real name is Harper Jennings.”

  Fuck me. I tilted my head toward the ceiling, praying the hole I was digging didn’t get any bigger.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Harper is Carter’s sister. My future sister-in-law. The woman who is making my beautiful wedding dress. The woman you will be walking down the aisle with at said wedding!”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me all that?” I asked, glaring back at her. “All you said was that she was a fashion designer.”

  “Would it really have mattered? You would’ve thought less of her anyway,” she said, poking me in the chest. “Just like you think of anyone associated with fashion. Do you see now how much of an asshole that makes you? Who the hell was that back there? The guy I grew up with would never treat anyone that way, bringing up shit from their past and throwing it back in their face.”

  “I know,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m really sorry, Elly.”

  “I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” she said, raising her eyebrows at me.

  “I know.”

  “She’s a really great person.” Her anger softened and she smiled. “And Carter told me you asked about meeting her a while back,” she teased.

  “Cash and I were just giving him shit about having hot sisters and I asked if he’d introduce me to the older one.” I had no idea what she actually looked like or who she was. When I walked into my office a few minutes ago, I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me when I saw her. She looked so fucking gorgeous standing there with her long, brown hair spilling over her shoulders and her tight dress showing off everything I admired in a woman. She called to mind a few fantasies of fucking in my office that I had yet to play out. Hell, if I’d known what she looked like and what dirty thoughts she’d bring to mind, then I would’ve insisted he set me up with her.

  But when I recognized her from Camille’s funeral, something inside me just snapped and I acted like a jackass. Nice first impression, Mav.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever,” Elly said, walking past me to my office. She stopped at the closed door and turned to face me. “Mav, she’s my family now. I’d like it if the two of you could become friends. So be nice.”

  “I will. I promise,” I said, pushing the door open.

  Elly walked in first and sat down in the chair next to Harper. I walked over to the front of my desk and leaned against it, watching Harper the whole time. She didn’t appear to be pissed off at me, but I couldn’t be sure. Elly smiled at both of us and then proceeded with introductions. “Harper, this is Maverick Jones. Mav, I’d like you to meet Carter’s sister, Harper Jennings.”

  “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. Can we start over?” I asked, offering my hand out to her.

  She looked up at me, studying my face for a moment before giving me a sweet smile and slipping her hand into mine. “Thanks, I’d like that. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Everything about her screamed perfection. She had a sweet, soft voice and her skin felt warm and comfortable against mine. The confidence she still had after everything I’d just said to her mixed with her beautiful appearance made my cock stir inside my shorts. “I’m looking forward to having you help in the clinic. I think you’ll be a great asset.”

  “Of course, she will!” Elly said, standing from her seat. “Speaking of the clinic, let’s go check it out and I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

  “Sounds good,” Harper said, picking her bag up. “Bye, Maverick.” She turned to follow Elly and a whiff of her perfume lingered. She smelled like mixed berries and the smell made me wish she wasn’t leaving so soon. She peeked over her shoulder to see if I was watching and I never took my eyes off her.

  I was watching all right, and I wanted her to know it.

  Chapter Four

  Maverick

  For the rest of the week, thoughts of Harper consumed me. I kept seeing her everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I imagined her spread eagle on my kitchen table. I had dreams of her tied to my bed and begging me for more. I jacked off to the thought of us showering together. I even fantasized about making love to her in front of my fucking fireplace. I hadn’t slept in four days because of her, but I was more energized than ever because not only was she working out at my gym now, but she was also in the clinic whenever I stoppe
d in to check on things. She was everywhere I went and that did nothing to deter my mind and body from her.

  If I thought she looked gorgeous in the dress she wore on Monday, I was a fucking goner when she walked into the gym the following day in workout clothes that showed off all her tattoos. Her body in spandex running shorts and matching sports bra made me want to haul her up to my office and have my way with her. I knew together we’d give each other a better workout than any exercise equipment could offer.

  Instead, I tried to focus on my job. I had clients who needed training, and fantasizing about the sexiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on while at work was just a disaster waiting to happen. She was no longer just a fashion designer to me. She was Carter’s sister; someone who’d be in my life forever now. She was the woman who finished rehab and wanted to help others. She was the woman with a sweet disposition and sex appeal. Forgetting her was impossible. So, when Friday rolled around and Harper was running on the treadmill a few rows over from where my client was power walking, I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

  “Go over and say hello for Christ’s sake,” Ollie said, nodding his head toward Harper.

  I shook my head at the old man I’d been training ever since he had hip surgery last year. “You have half a mile to go, my friend.”

  “Well, standing there staring at her all day isn’t going to get you anywhere,” he said, wiping his sweaty face with his towel.

  “Save your advice, old man,” I laughed, moving my attention back over toward Harper. Her eyes connected with mine and she smiled her sweet smile back at me as she continued jogging.

  “I swear, you kids these days,” Ollie mumbled, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t know a good thing if it knocked you on your ass.”

  “The fuck I wouldn’t,” I said, laughing at him. We bullshitted back and forth on a daily basis. Ollie was one of my favorite clients, and he enjoyed shooting the shit with everyone at the gym. “I know she’s a good thing.”

  “So do something about it!” He threw the towel around his neck and went back to pumping his arms. “Women like her,” he nodded toward Harper again, “don’t come along every day. And the way you can’t take your eyes off of her … you got it bad, Jones!”

  I looked down at the ground, smiling and shaking my head. Dammit, he was right. I did have it bad. Really bad. I couldn’t even remember the last time a woman made me feel this way. I hadn’t spoken more than a few words to her and already she had me completely wrapped up in her, fantasizing about being with her. When I looked back over to where she’d been working out, she was gone. All the treadmills were empty except for the one Ollie occupied.

  I looked around, anxiously searching the gym for her among the other members, but I couldn’t find her.

  Where the fuck did she go?

  Ollie cleared his throat and smiled. “She went up the stairs, and she looked like she was getting ready to leave. Are you just going to stand there and let her get away?”

  “No,” I laughed, smiling at him. I smacked him on the arm and started toward the stairs. “You’re done for today, old man, but I’ll see you Monday!”

  “Damn right you will!” he yelled back.

  *

  I found her on the fourth floor, trying the door to the spa, but I knew it was locked. The spa closed early on Fridays.

  “Hey,” I called out, walking toward her.

  She spun around at the sound of my voice, looking slightly embarrassed. Pointing to the spa door, she smiled innocently. “I was hoping to get a massage, but I just realized the spa’s closed.”

  “Yeah,” I said, smiling back at her.

  “Well, I better get going,” she said, pulling her gym bag over her shoulder.

  “I could give you a massage if you want,” I offered, sliding my hands into my pockets.

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll just come back next week when the professionals are in.”

  She winked at me playfully, and I finally caught a hint of her trying to flirt with me. “Who do you think trained all the masseuses who work here?”

  She laughed and crossed her arms, making the swell of her beautiful breasts more prominent. “Let me guess—you?”

  “That’s right,” I said, unlocking the door to the spa and holding it open for her. “So, what do you say? It’s the least I could do for being such an ass to you the other day.”

  Her soft brown eyes searched my face and I could tell she’d already forgiven me. I just wanted to spend time with her, and if that meant being able to put my hands all over her body for the next hour, all the better.

  “Okay,” she said with a flirty laugh. “After all, it’s the least you can do. Now, let’s see if you’re really the expert you claim to be.”

  She walked into the spa, and I directed her to the first room on the left and then closed and locked the entrance to the spa. I didn’t need a line of women forming when they heard the boss was giving massages after hours. What a clusterfuck that’d be.

  I stood in the doorway of the room Harper was in. She was sitting on the table, still fully clothed, and a part of me felt nervous about massaging her. I was finally about to have her one way I’d imagined her this past week: naked on a table. She wouldn’t be spread eagle, but I’d definitely have to fight to keep my composure. I wanted her to get to know the real me, not the judgmental asshole she saw on Monday.

  “So, if you want to get comfortable, I’ll be right in and we can get started.” I pointed to the Bose stereo in the corner of the room. “There’s also an audio jack if you want to plug in your music. Some members like to listen to their own music rather than the tunes filtering through the spa’s stereo system.”

  “All right,” she said, kicking off her tennis shoes.

  I closed the door behind me, allowing her to undress in private. Even though every part of me wished I was in there right now, helping her remove all her clothes, laying her down on the table and positioning myself in between her long, lean legs.

  And now I was hard.

  Fuck. Get it together, man.

  I readjusted myself and moved over to the supply closet, and grabbed the lavender and peppermint oils to use along with the standard oils we kept in each room. I cleared my throat and then knocked on the door to her room.

  “Come in,” she said.

  The first thing I saw when I walked in was her naked, tattooed body lying on the massage table, her ass covered with a towel. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she had her iPod hooked up to the stereo. She was listening to a song by The Black Keys, and she had it turned down to a volume that said she wasn’t opposed to a little conversation.

  Good. Talking would keep my mind from wandering into the wicked, dirty places it needed to stay out of for the next hour.

  She lifted her head out of the headrest and rested her chin on the tops of her hands with her eyes closed. “Is alternative rock okay with you?”

  “Yeah, I like the Keys,” I answered, dimming the lights.

  Her eyes instantly flew open when the room darkened, and I heard her gasp softly when she took in the sight of me so close to her. I could feel her warm gaze running over my core and across my tattoos, which only encouraged the hard-on I was permanently sporting around her. She looked away quickly when she realized I was watching her check me out, putting her head back into the headrest with a deep breath.

  I smiled to myself as I oiled up my hands. “Do you have any pain anywhere? Any aches or knots? Anything in particular you want me to take care of?”

  “Nope. Just a basic massage is fine.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed her shoulders hard and rolled my thumbs deep into her soft tissue, and a soft moan escaped her. Hearing her moan at the touch of my hands made the pain in my shorts almost unbearable. I moved my hands down her back methodically, comforting her muscles with my movements. When I moved back up to her shoulders, I studied the colorful half sleeve she sported on her left arm. It consiste
d of various different colored amaryllis flowers drenched in blood dripping from an anatomical heart tattooed at the top of her arm. The flowers and their bloodstained petals went all the way around her bicep, making her upper arm look like a beautiful work of Greek art. “I like your half sleeve. It’s different.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Why Amaryllis and Alteo though?”

  She quickly propped herself up onto her elbows, and I froze at the possibility of seeing her naked tits on full display, but she covered herself up with the sheet. She looked at me with shock in her eyes. “What?”

  I brushed my fingers over the colorful human heart and all its detail, thankful for the Greek mythology elective course I took back in college. “Isn’t Amaryllis the one who brought flowers to Alteo’s door and pierced her heart each time for thirty nights? Then when he finally opened the door, there was a crimson flower from the blood of her heart?”

  She stared back at me with amazement and shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you know that.” She looked at her tattoo and smiled back at me, still completely stunned. “Nobody has ever understood the story behind this tattoo.”

  I traced one of the petals on her arm with my finger, and I smiled back at her. “So, why Amaryllis and Alteo?”

  “Because it’s a tragically romantic story,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m a girl. Girls like romance.” She laughed lightly and joined me in tracing the details of her sleeve. “Amaryllis also represents determination and pride. Two things I had a lot of after rehab. That’s when I got this.”

  With that simple confession, I felt myself fall for her a little bit more, and this time it had nothing to do with sex. It was all about her. She was so strong and confident; two of the most attractive assets a woman could have. I laid my hand on top of hers and her gaze connected with mine. “I’m really sorry for the way I treated you on Monday.”

  A small smile formed on her soft, pink lips. “You’re forgiven.” She laid her head back down into the headrest and stretched her arms to her sides. “Now, about that massage …”