was already the envy of every dancer in the place. Mainly because she had the advantage of knowing that it took more than big breasts, a slim waist, onion booty and a pretty face to grab and hold his attention.
Jaxon was an unusual client when it came to his visits to the gentlemen’s clubs. He wasn’t there to zero in on certain body parts. No. He generally enjoyed the art. He was particularly fond of the burlesque style as opposed to straight grinding on a pole and booty poppin’ in a sequined string thong.
Smiling, Kitty leaned forward and let her expensive breasts press against his chest. “I would never suggest that you were ever unreasonable,” she assured, blowing her strawberry scented breath up at him. “You have to be the kindest, most generous man I know.” And she meant it. Jaxon Landon was known for many things: a son of a bitch when it came to business, dangerous when it came to those who crossed him and a heartbreaker when it came to women who had the misfortune of falling in love with him.
But the one thing very few people knew about him was that he genuinely had a heart of gold when it came to people he cared about. It was no accident that she was the one to land the ten-thousand-dollar job to pretend to be his fiancée for the weekend. Kitty knew that word had gotten around the club about her grandmother’s increasing medical bills.
Last week she was sobbing into her pillow, worried about where she was going to come up with an extra ten grand for her grandma’s surgery and then the next thing she knew, Jaxon was on her doorstep with a job for the exact amount of money she needed. That day she swore she could see a halo encircling the man’s head.
And now, she had just insulted him.
“Then what are you saying?” Jaxon asked, standing up straighter.
“Oh, you know,” she said, trying to stall.
Jaxon’s smile flatlined while he waited.
Cornered, Kitty licked her lips and tried to swallow the growing lump in her throat. Whenever Jaxon leveled his intense mahogany eyes on someone, it had all the potency of drinking a bottle of truth serum. “I just meant that you seemed more…tense when you’re around your grandparents,” she confessed. “Once or twice, you may have come off a little short.” She shrugged and then tried laughing. “But, hey, I’m the same way around my folks. I don’t understand them and they certainly don’t understand me.”
The office grew as silent as a tomb for two seconds. The longest two seconds of Kitty’s life. It wasn’t that she feared that Jaxon would suddenly erupt and fly off the handle. He would never do that. It wasn’t his style. It was all about his expressions and body language. A flicker of disappointment from him had the same effect as a parent scolding a child and whenever his beautiful eyes narrowed it was like a dagger piercing a heart. And if his rich baritone dipped to a rumbling bass, you knew your ass was in serious trouble.
Then out of the blue, Jaxon’s smile was back. His perfect pearly white teeth and full, luscious lips had a way of making her feel like Cupid’s bow had pierced her heart. It was crazy how easily Jaxon could turn her on. It was like flicking on a light switch. More than anything, she wished that she meant more to him than just a plaything.
“You’re right,” Jaxon admitted, chuckling. “I do tend to get…worked up around Carlton.” He pivoted and returned to his chair to finish writing her check.
“May I ask you something?” she ventured.
“Of course you can.”
“Why do you call your grandfather Carlton?”
“It’s his name, isn’t it?” He finished his signature with a flurry and then pulled the single check from its leather-bound book. “Here you go, m’dear. Ten thousand dollars. Not bad for two days of putting up with my unreasonable, short temper.” There, he got in his jab.
Just then, Jaxon’s secretary, Janine, buzzed in over the intercom. “Mr. Landon, Richard Myers is here to see you.”
What in hell could he possibly want? Jaxon rolled his eyes. “Send him in.”
Kitty reached over and accepted the check. “Thank you.” She folded it several times and then stuffed it in between her huge tits. “It’s been a pleasure. Call me again whenever you’re in need of a fiancée.” She gave him another quick smile and then headed toward the door. “So when will I see you again?”
“Just when you begin to miss me,” he teased.
“I’ll miss you as soon as I walk out of the door,” she volleyed back at him.
“Then I guess I’ll see you at the Velvet Rope tonight,” he said.
Kitty’s heart skipped a beat. “Is that a promise?”
Jaxon winked. “Absolutely.”
She turned, opened the door and nearly smacked into Richard Myers.
“Well, hello there, Kitty,” Richard greeted coolly. “I didn’t know you did house calls.”
Kitty smiled at Jaxon’s number-one rival—in everything from looks, women and business. The man took competition to a whole new level and didn’t care who knew it. Kitty didn’t mind it so much, since it meant twice the haters and two rich, gorgeous men lavishing her with money and gifts.
“Really, Richard. You should get your mind out of the gutter,” she teased playfully. “I’ll see you tonight, Jaxon,” she said, tossing him a final wink. The comment was for Richard as well as Jaxon and if her calculations were correct, she would be seeing Richard tonight at the club, too. “G’bye, you two.” She gave them a dainty wave and practically floated out of the office.
Richard stood at the door and watched Kitty’s rear view until she disappeared from the office lobby. Then he turned his sly smile toward Jaxon. “She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?”
Instead of answering, Jaxon relaxed behind his desk. “So what brings you here, Dick?”
Richard’s smile only stretched wider as he closed Jaxon’s office door and casually strolled over to the bar. “Oh, I was in the neighborhood and thought that I would come by and congratulate you on the Culberson deal. It must have been an awfully reliable bird that told you that they were in talks with Microsoft.”
Jaxon kept his face neutral while he mentally patted himself on the back for putting the pieces of a very large puzzle together on his own. “Oh, I don’t know. I’d say it was just a lucky guess.”
A smile slithered across Richard’s face while he poured himself some of Jaxon’s good brandy. “Let you tell it, you’re the luckiest sonofbitch in New York.”
“Maybe I am,” he said, holding his straight face.
A muscle twitched just below Richard’s right eye. A telltale sign of what the man was really thinking and feeling—which was also the reason Jaxon always beat the man at poker.
Some things were too easy.
“You want to know what I think?” Richard asked, taking his glass and making his way over to the empty chair in front of Jaxon’s desk.
“The better question is, ‘Do I care?’”
“I think,”
