DIRTY MONEY

Fifty thousand dollars.

That’s the amount of money the man that I’m walking toward paid to have a weekend date with me. Though in actuality, our weekend date got scrapped because of scheduling conflicts. His, not mine. Now, on maybe the nicest Tuesday morning we’ve had in Los Angeles yet this summer, with the perfect ratio of blue sky to clouds and a break in the humidity, I’m slow when I approach the sleek black Lexus. I try to stay calm, totally faking that this isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.

Who am I kidding?

This entire thing is nuts. I don’t even know the identity of my date. He wanted secrecy, placing his bid over the telephone at the charity auction for the Los Angeles Pediatric Hospital last Saturday. Even all the communication about our date had come through the event coordinator. She’d been the one to tell me that I needed to be outside my condo at the ungodly hour of six a.m., the type of car my date drove, and that I needed to bring my passport with me.

My tummy somersaults when I draw closer to the curb of the condominium that I share with my best friend, Aria Finley. Most days, I love her to pieces. This morning, I could kill her for getting me involved in this. Why do I have to be such a good friend?

For three years, she’s wanted my boss, corporate lawyer Liam Maxwell, and she knew the charity auction was her best way to get a weekend with him. It wasn’t any surprise when Liam bought her at the auction. Though somehow, I got talked into this insanity, too, because Aria didn’t want to attend the event alone.

I’m beginning to regret my decision.

With each step I take, getting closer to the car, my heart is hammering, my palm is sweaty against the handle of my suitcase that I’m dragging behind me. Who is this man? A surgeon? A pilot? Maybe a businessman? More importantly, why did he buy me?

Not that I don’t have a few things going for me. I’ve got awesome long honey-colored hair that naturally curls in beachy waves and bright blue eyes, but I’m still a total plain Jane. I prefer flats to heels. I loved every type of music growing up. And I might have a slight obsession with horror movies; Friday the 13th is my absolute favorite. So, of course, I’m naturally curious why, out of all the gorgeous women auctioned that night at the event, this man paid so much for me.

Butterflies swirl in my belly when the driver’s side door begins to open, my breath catching when a man steps out. I take in his brown leather sandals, strong thick legs which meet dark khaki shorts, and a hunter green shirt stretching across a fit, muscular frame. I slowly look up, scanning over a chiseled jawline, sculpted lips which curve into a sinful half-smile. I stop at the stormy green eyes holding an equal amount of power and seduction.

I finally blink, woken from the spell. “What. The. Fuck,” is all I manage.

Jackson Keller, Aria’s boss, and my boss’s archenemy, grins at me, raking a hand through his dirty-blond hair. “You know, most people start a conversation with ‘good morning.’”

I’m stunned. Totally completely stunned speechless. I can’t seem to figure out what to say but I know I should be saying something. For a split second, I’m flattered and begin wondering if Jackson has a crush on me. It only takes me another second to realize how utterly stupid that is. He’s Jackson Keller, son of George Keller, one of the richest entertainment lawyers in Los Angeles. I’m a legal assistant from Wisconsin, whose mom stayed at home and dad worked construction. And another second after that, I’m beginning to think what I should be doing is slapping him across the face.

First things first, understanding his motive. “You bought the date with me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to,” he says smoothly, reaching for my suitcase and placing it in the backseat before turning to face me again. “We need to get moving. Our flight leaves in a couple hours.” He shuts the back door then opens the passenger door.

My knee twitches to kick him where it counts. I know all I need to know in the way he quickly looks at his shoes, not able to meet my eyes. Son of a bitch. He bought me to get back at Liam for buying Aria at the auction. That’s exactly what his motive is. And that’s exactly why I’m here.

Liam and Aria are a complicated duo. They’re in love with each other, and have been for years. But there’s a catch—Liam and Jackson have bad blood between them. Out of loyalty to Jackson, due to their professional and close platonic personal relationship, Aria wouldn’t allow Liam to pursue her.

Until the charity auction.

I stare at the back of Jackson’s head, knowing this move by him confirms he isn’t happy about Aria having spent the weekend with Liam either. And now I’m somehow brought into their stupid feud that’s spanned the entire time that I’ve worked for Liam. A total of two years. Jackson doesn’t want me. He simply wants Liam to think he does. To taunt him.

I cross my arms and declare, “You are out of your fucking mind if you think I’m getting in that car with you.”

Jackson turns back to me and gives me an easy smile. It’s sexy. It’s sinful. It’s trouble. “I bought you for fifty thousand dollars, if you recall.” One sleek eyebrow arches in the most absurdly gorgeous way. “Do you really want to disappoint the charity by not holding up your end of the bargain?”

I narrow my eyes on him, hating both that he’s right and that I feel excited when he looks at me with all that intensity. Jackson is a dick. He’s arrogant. He’s also such an asshole that my boss hates him. And Liam hates no one. The problem is, Jackson is also mouthwateringly hot. Furthermore, he also happens to be the guy I think about when it’s just me and my vibrator.

Still, he can’t play me like I’m a damn violin. “What exactly do you think taking me away is going to accomplish?”

“It’s going to accomplish relaxation,” is his carefully worded reply.

“Relaxation,” I say with snort, though now I’m mildly curious where he’s taking me. “You’re telling me you’re not doing this because Liam bought Aria at the auction.”

Jackson doesn’t even bother playing coy. “Actually, no, that’s not what I’m doing.” He faces me, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I bought you because I wanted to give to the charity. Since you’re best friends with Aria, I figured that means that you’re probably not batshit crazy and maybe even fun to be around. That’s what this is.”

He’s completely full of shit. Hot as hell, but still, one hundred percent full of shit. “I don’t believe anything that just came out of your mouth,” I clarify. “Regardless, indulge me: where are we going?”

“Ontario,” he explains. “Muskoka, to be exact.”

“Canada?”

He nods.

My heart jumps a little; I’ve always wanted to go. “All right so maybe that idea is fantastic, but still, whatever you think you’re going to prove to Liam, let me be the first to tell you that I won’t allow you to use me like some pawn in this game between the two of you.” I point at him. “Got it?”

His mouth twitches. “I think you’ve made your point perfectly clear.” Suddenly, his head cocks, and he examines my face for a moment. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down before.” He grabs the end and tugs a little. “It’s nice.”

“Nice?” I step back, telling my damn puckering nipples to cool it already.

“Yes, nice.” He nods. “You always wear your hair in a ponytail, but I like it like this. It’s nice,” he repeats, as if I didn’t hear him the first time, and then he gestures me inside the car. “I really must insist we get going or we’re going to miss our flight.”

There is more to my irritation than whatever plan Jackson has here. He knows I want him and that I like his compliments. I can see it in the haughtiness on his face. That fucking half-smile. Why are the jerks always so damn sexy? “Fine,” I say, flicking my hair over my shoulder. “But don’t think I won’t resort to violence if you deserve it.”

He barks a loud laugh now. It’s irritating how much warmth fills his eyes, and how my body temperature rises. “Good to know,” he states.

I move by him and scowl, both at him and at the throbbing between my thighs. While I slide into my seat, I get a good whiff of his spicy cologne before he shuts the door behind me. Really? Does he even have to smell so good, too?

Through the windshield, I watch all that power and masculinity pass by the hood of the car, devising my own plan. Jackson believes this is going to upset Liam. To ensure it doesn’t, I grab my phone from my purse and begin texting Aria.

Jackson is my date. Yeah, you read that right. P.S. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got this, girl!

No matter what, I can’t let anything come between Liam and Aria, including whatever Jackson thinks this date is going to accomplish. I love Aria, and I care deeply for Liam, and they are meant to be together. I refuse to let Jackson ruin this for them. He might be determined to play some fucked-up game to get back at Liam. But I won’t let him. And it just so happens that with the heart of my best friend on the line, I’m playing to win.

When the driver’s-side door opens, I turn off my phone, not wanting interruptions which I anticipate will be worried calls from Liam and Aria. Jackson asks with a panty-melting smile, “All set?”

I want to be giddy that I’m with the guy I’ve wanted naked, sweaty, and riding me hard for two years, of course I do. But I know why I’m here. It’s so Liam can’t find me. It’s so Jackson can torture him. And that’s the game here. It’s not about using me or mistreating me, it’s all to get inside Liam’s head. I can’t ever forget that, no matter how much that smile charms me. I give him my most pleasant smile and finally answer him, “Ready.”

Game on.