morning shower. She was sultry and sulky, yet she had a razor-sharp wit and intelligence to match. She had done well for herself, building her business up from scratch, although he thought she was heading for a burnout by trying to do everything herself. Not that she would ever ask his advice. She was too proud. She would rather go bankrupt than admit she might have made a mistake.
Jake dragged a hand down his face. This was going to be the longest week or two of his life. What did Jasmine expect of him? How far did she want this act to go? She surely wouldn’t want to sleep with him if she was still hankering after her ex? Not that she showed any sign of being attracted to him, although she did have a habit of looking at his mouth now and again. But everyone knew how much she hated him. Not that a bit of hate got in the way of good sex.
Sheesh. He had to stop thinking about sex and Jasmine in the same sentence. He had never seen her as a sister, even though she had been brought up as one at Ravensdene. Or at least not since she’d hit her teens. She’d grown from being a gangly, awkward teenager into an unusual but no less stunning beauty. Her features were not what one could describe as classically beautiful, but there was some indefinable element to the prominence of her brows and the ice-blue and storm-grey of her eyes that made her unforgettable. She had a model-slim figure and lustrous, wavy honey-brown hair that fell midway down her back. Her skin was creamy and smooth and looked fabulous with or without make-up, although she used make-up superbly these days.
Her mouth... How could he describe it? It was perfect. Simply perfect. He had never seen a more beautiful mouth. The lower lip was full and shapely, the top one a perfect arc above it. The vermillion borders of her lips were so neatly aligned it was as if a master had drawn them. She had a way of slightly elevating her chin, giving her a haughty air that belied her humble beginnings. Her nose, too, had the look of an aristocrat about it with its ski-slope contour. When she smiled—which she rarely did when he was around—it lit up the room. He had seen grown men buckle at the knees at that smile.
Jake’s phone vibrated where he’d left it on the bedside table. He glanced at the screen and saw it was Julius. His twin had called six times now. Better get it over with, he thought, and answered.
‘Is this some kind of prank?’ Julius said without preamble.
‘No, it’s—’
‘Jaz and you?’ Julius cut him off. ‘Come on, man. You hate her guts. You can’t stand being in the same room as her. What happened?’
‘It was time to bury the hatchet,’ Jake said.
‘You think I came down in the last shower?’ Julius said. ‘I know wedding fever has hit with Holly and me, and now Miranda and Leandro, but you and Jaz? I don’t buy it for a New York picosecond. What’s she got on you? Is she holding a AK-47 to your head?’
Jake let out a rough-edged sigh. He could lie to anyone else but not his identical twin. All that time in the womb had given them a connection beyond what normal siblings felt. They even felt each other’s pain. When Julius had had his appendix out when he was fifteen Jake had felt like someone was ripping his guts out. ‘I’ve been having a little problem with a girl,’ he said. ‘A teenager.’
‘I’m not sure I want to hear this.’
‘It’s not what you think,’ Jake said and explained the situation before adding, ‘Jasmine intercepted Emma at the door and told her we were engaged.’
‘How did this girl Emma take it?’
‘Surprisingly well,’ Jake said.
‘What about Jaz’s fiancé?’
‘I have no idea,’ Jake said. ‘He’s either relieved she’s off his hands or he’s going to turn up at my place and shoot out my kneecaps.’
‘Always a possibility.’
‘Don’t remind me.’
There was a beat of silence.
‘You’re not going to sleep with her, are you?’ Julius said.
‘God, no,’ Jake said. ‘I wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole.’
‘Yes, well, I suggest you keep your barge pole zipped in your pants,’ Julius said dryly. ‘What actually happened with you guys that night at the party? I know she came to your room but you’ve never said what went on other than you didn’t touch her.’
‘I didn’t do anything except send her on her way,’ Jake said. ‘You know what she was like, always following me about, giving me sheep’s eyes. I taught her a lesson by offering her a foursome but she declined.’
‘A novel approach.’
‘It worked.’
‘Maybe, but don’t you think her anger is a little out of proportion?’ Julius said.
‘That’s just Jasmine,’ Jake said. ‘She’s always had a rotten temper.’
‘I don’t know... I sometimes wonder if something else happened that night.’
‘Like what?’
‘She’d been drinking and was obviously upset after leaving your room,’ Julius said. ‘Not a good combination in a teenage girl.’
Jake hung up a short time later once they’d switched topics but he couldn’t get rid of the seed of unease Julius had planted in his mind. Had something happened that night after Jasmine had left his room? Was that why she had been so protective of young Emma, making sure she got home safely with an adult at the other end to meet her? The rest of that night was a bit of blur for him. Most of his parents’ parties ended up that way. Even some of his parties were a little full-on too. There was always a lot of alcohol, loud music blaring and people coming and going. He had been feeling too pleased with himself for solving the Jasmine problem to give much thought to where she’d gone after leaving his room. At twenty-six what he had done had seemed the perfect solution. The only solution.
Now, at thirty-three, he wasn’t quite so sure.
* * *
Jaz was making herself a nightcap in the kitchen when Jake strolled in. ‘Finding it hard to sleep without a playgirl bunny or three in your bed to keep you warm?’
‘What happened after you left my room that night?’
Jaz lowered her gaze to her chocolate drink rather than meet his piercing blue eyes. The chocolate swirled as she stirred it with the teaspoon, creating a whirlpool not unlike the one she could feel in the pit of her stomach. She never thought about that night. That night had happened to another person. It had happened to a foolish, gauche kid who’d had too much to drink and had been too emotionally unstable to know what she was doing or what she was getting into.
‘Jasmine. Answer me.’
Jaz lifted her gaze to his and frowned. ‘Why do you always call me Jasmine instead of Jaz? You’re the only one in your family who insists on doing that. Why?’
‘It’s your name.’
‘So? Yours is Jacques but you don’t like being called that,’ Jaz pointed out. ‘Maybe I’ll start to.’
‘Julius
