putting an end to the frisson of lust sparking between her and Jack. Ash grinned, clearly oblivious.
‘Is my sister working you over for a donation? She’s tenacious when it comes to her causes. Be warned.’
Harley dipped her chin to try and conceal the heat blooming in her chest. She had yet to work Jack over the way she wanted to. If she looked at him now, Ash might see that written all over her face.
Her brother eyed Jack, his hand outstretched in greeting and his polite smile drooping slightly as he tried to place the other man.
Damn. She’d forgotten about this eventuality.
‘I’m always happy to contribute to a worthy cause,’ said Jack. ‘Especially one important to Harley.’ He shook Ash’s hand, squaring up to her brother with a puffed-out chest in that way men faced off.
Silence stretched as she gaped at Ash to see if he’d recognised Jack. Her jaw worked as she looked between the two men but no sound escaped. Lost for words. Struggling to label this thing with Jack and reluctant to expose herself to Ash’s likely criticism.
Jack cast a lifeline. ‘Jack Demont. You’re Ash Jacob.’
Harley awoke from her trance, her hand instinctively reaching for Jack’s arm as she clarified the introductions. ‘Jack is a property developer and architect. Remember, I’m purchasing the Morris Building?’
Ash nodded, the cogs of his mind visibly clunking into gear as he flicked eyes dawning with recognition between them. Harley let her arm fall to her side, but Jack stepped close, his hand proprietary on her hip. Had he just laid claim?
‘You remember me, I’m sure. I’m Joe Lane’s son.’ He lifted his chin, staring her brother down. A face-off pissing contest ensued as the men gleaned the measure of each other the way men did. Silently assessing, fixed grins in place. Giving little away.
Harley, too, stood her ground, although she longed to waft away the testosterone permeating the air. After years of trying to fit into the Jacob mould, she wished she were past caring what her family thought of her choices.
Hating her dyslexia every time she saw a flash of disappointment in Hal’s eyes or he openly compared her to her two high-flying siblings, she’d tried to forge her own path—doing something she loved, something she was good at, and measuring herself against her own goals, the only way she could claw back a shred of her tattered self-esteem.
But her self-doubts were deeply ingrained. Her shoulders twitched with the effort of staying straight-backed. To his credit, Ash concealed whatever he thought behind a thin but polite smile.
‘Of course. It’s been a long time. So, have you relocated to New York?’
Harley’s heart sank. She knew that look. She had a reckoning to face. And then her blood froze as another thought occurred to her. Had Ash found out about the real reason for the Lane-Jacob bust up? After all, he worked every day with Hal. Would he let it slip now? Throw it into the conversation as some sort of macho put-down?
Jack tilted his chin. ‘Temporarily. I’ve recently opened offices here, although most of my business runs out of Paris and London.’
‘And you two are...’ Ash pointed his finger between them, hedging.
‘We—’ Harley jumped in, stuttering to a halt. What could she tell her brother?
We’re having the best sex of my life? I propositioned Jack over coffee? Before the night is over I hope to be screaming out his name loud enough to wake you? And, no, I haven’t told him about Dad’s affair with his mother so keep your mouth shut?
Her stomach flipped.
‘I was thrilled to discover Harley’s interest in a property I’m selling, especially when I discovered what she has planned for the Morris Building.’
Her gaze flew to him. Her heart skittering in her chest as the fear subsided. Jack flicked her a look, adding a wink, and his fingers flexed on her hip. Warmth flooded her body and centred between her legs. As he turned to glance at the band, which had returned to the stage, Ash briefly widened his eyes in Harley’s direction.
She shook her head and then looked away. She knew what she was doing. Exploring intense sexual attraction. It was no one’s business but hers who she fucked. Certainly not her brother’s and most definitely not her father’s. And she and Jack weren’t serious—no need to drag up ancient history.
‘So, are you...?’ Ash left the question hanging. Harley shot him a shut up now look, but the unspoken sounded loud and clear.
What are you doing? Dad will flip when he finds out.
‘About to ask your sister for a dance? Yes.’ Jack tilted his head to the dance floor, providing a perfect socially acceptable distraction for two old friends recently reacquainted. ‘Shall we?’
Harley nodded, her feet immediately lighter. She reinforced her kiss of dismissal on Ash’s cheek with a warning squeeze of his arm, and for once her brother stayed silent and kept his opinions to himself.
Sometimes it sucked being the baby of the family; no matter how old or successful you were, you could never outgrow the role. Although she only qualified as the youngest by seven minutes. And of course she’d never be successful enough by her family’s standards.
The fact she was sole recipient of the knowledge of Hal’s philandering turned her stomach. But she pushed that from her mind, determined to enjoy Jack’s company without interference from her family.
Harley sank into his arms, grateful for his confident steps and firm grip on her hand and waist leading her around under the lights. She checked his demeanour. No annoyance. No harbouring ill will. And certainly not concealing his interest in her, picking up where they left off before Ash interrupted. Clearly he didn’t give a damn what her brother thought of him.
If only she could achieve that...
‘So tell me about this orgasm.’
His change of topic was so abrupt, Harley’s neck protested as she leaned away to confirm the wicked gleam in his eyes. She glanced around. Bodies moved around them but no one seemed to have heard.
He laughed, a low rumble reverberating through his chest and zinging her nipples to life.
‘You brought it up, ma belle.’ He licked his bottom lip, pressing his thick length into her belly as he swayed them indecently close. His lips grazed her ear. ‘Did you think of me when you touched yourself?’
It was pointless to deny it. If he had any observational skills, he’d feel her accelerated heartbeat thud against his chest and see the flush of arousal her strapless dress failed to conceal.
She lifted her chin, meeting his bold stare. ‘Yes.’
Triumph sparked in his eyes—the cocky kind that expected nothing less. ‘How was it?’
Predictable. Tepid. Hollow.
‘Perfectly adequate, thank you.’ His ego needed no massaging from her.
He smiled, confidence unwavering. He stopped dancing, gripping her tighter, pressing every inch of her body to his while
