Chapter 1: Jade
My muscles ache so much I can barely finish the lap.
Finally, I place both hands on the side of the college pool and remove my goggles.
I take a sharp breath.
A man I’ve never seen before is staring at me with piercing eyes.
He’s holding my towel. “You were in there a long time,” he says. “Maybe you should use the steps.”
My shoulders protest as I ignore him and pull myself up as quickly as possible before grabbing the towel from him. “I don’t appreciate being accosted.”
“Relax,” he says. “Coach Croix told me where to find you.”
I wrap the towel around me and squeeze the water from my hair. “Why?”
“I want to recruit you.”
His Armani suit, full lips, and absurdly toned muscles lure me in, and I imagine myself raking my fingers through his combed back taper fade.
But those grey eyes unsettle me.
A man who has seen too much of the world shouldn’t see so much of me.
“Because of my near Olympic-qualifying times?” I ask.
“Among other reasons,” he says. “Have dinner with me.”
“Why would I possibly do that? I don’t even know your name.”
“Demarcus.”
“Well, Demarcus, give me one reason we should have dinner.”
“How about the opportunity to not have to drop out of college in three weeks because you can’t afford next semester’s tuition.”
What the hell?!
“Coach told you a lot,” I say.
He just stares at me. Waiting.
“Fine, we’ll go to dinner. After all, a woman has to eat.”
“Jade!” Peter calls as he jogs into the room. “What are you still doing here?”
“Making friends,” I say, closely watching Demarcus. “I’m about to hit the showers.”
“Good,” he says. “You don’t need the entire men’s swim team ogling you.”
His lips graze my cheek as he gives me a friendly kiss.
Demarcus never takes his eyes off me.
“Have a good practice, Peter,” I say before returning my attention to the mystery man. “And I’ll see you outside in ten minutes.”
Once in the locker room, I peel off my swimsuit, take a quick shower, and run a comb through my wavy red hair. I change back into my sweatpants and tank top before heading outside and finding Demarcus’s car.
Holy shit.
“This is an Aston Martin,” I say, opening the door.
“And?”
I tie my hair into a messy bun. “I’m not sure that I’m dry enough to sit in a car that costs more than a house.”
“It’s just a car,” he says.
“And one of your servants can detail it later?” I ask, sitting hesitantly.
“Something like that.”
I buckle my seat belt and he speeds toward my dorm on the other side of campus. “I need fifteen minutes to change,” I tell him. “What time are our reservations?”
“Whenever we walk in,” he says.
I jog up the steps, open my closet, and change into the only nice dress and shoes that I own.
But when I step back outside, I freeze.
There he is: James, my stepbrother.
“Where the fuck have you been?!” he yells, crossing his overly muscular arms.
“Practice,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I tried calling you all damn night,” he says.
My pulse rises. “I was studying. I didn’t see my phone.”
“Bullshit,” he says. “You ignored me on purpose!”
“I didn’t,” I say, backing up toward the dorm.
“When I call, I expect you to fucking answer!” he says, grabbing my wrist.
“Hey!” Demarcus yells.
James drops my wrist and turns to look at Demarcus at the same time. “What do—”
And Demarcus gives him a right hook that sends James to the ground.
“Are you okay?” Demarcus asks me.
I rub my wrist and stare at James. “Yeah.”
He grabs James by the collar. “I can’t properly beat you in daylight,” he growls, “so let me make this very clear. The next time you disrespect Jade, I’ll hang you up like a piece of meat and show you the versatility of a cattle prod. Understood?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Demarcus punches him twice in the face and once in the stomach. “Do you understand?”
James takes a swing at him, but he’s in an awkward position, and Demarcus easily blocks him before punching his jaw.
“Leave her alone, or I’ll beat you until you beg for the sweet relief of death, which I’ll make sure never comes.”
He lets go of James’ shirt, and James’ head hits the concrete with a loud thud.
“Get in the car,” Demarcus says. “It’s done.”
I walk all the way around them as James’ phone falls out of his pocket.
“Lose her number,” Demarcus says, then crushes the phone under his heel and delivers a hard kick to James’s ribs.
He joins me in the car. “Are you okay?”
I don’t know what comes over me as I wrap my hand around his tie and lean over to kiss him.
My brain buzzes, but he pulls away.
I let go of his tie. “Thank you.”
He stares into my eyes, and I swear if he touches me, I’ll give into everything I’m feeling.
Instead, he simply says, “Don’t forget your seat belt.”
He pulls out of the parking lot and glances at me as I rub my wrist. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No, I’ve had worse.”
“From him?”
“Among others.” I look at his injured knuckles. “Do you?”
He flexes his hand. “I’ll be fine.”
He asks me a bit about classes and my horrible job at the cafe. When we arrive at the restaurant, he tosses the keys to the valet, and places his hand on the small of my back as he walks me inside.
Chills.
The host doesn’t even speak; he just picks up two menus and shows us to a table with an exquisite view of the city.
“So, what do you do to earn all that Aston Martin money?” I ask.
“I’m a powerful man who wields my power with precision,” he says, as if it’s a common fact.
My stomach flips. I’m in trouble.
“Why are you having to drop out of college?” he asks.
“Because my dickhead father left all of his money to my asshole stepbrother, who refuses to fucking help me.”
A few of the guests look at me disapprovingly, but Demarcus seems unfazed.
“Your swim scholarship doesn’t pay your tuition?” he asks.
“Not all of it. Plus, I’ll have to cover my books, housing, and food. There’s no way I can do that.” I sigh and drop my head into my hands. “Three more semesters, and I would have been done. My life is always fucked up by asshole men.”
The waiter interrupts us, and we order food I can barely pronounce along with ridiculously expensive wine.
“And you’re still planning to try to qualify for the Olympics?” he asks.
I pull myself together. “I’ve been swimming almost as long as I’ve been walking. That’s always been the dream.”
He watches me and folds his hands. “I can help with that.”
“How? You want to be my private coach?”
“I want to make a trade.”
The waiter brings our wine, and I take a long drink. “I’m listening.”
He removes a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Here’s my offer.”
I take the paper, and my eyes grow wide as I read. “Pay all my college expenses… living expenses… unlimited access to your two private pools… personal lessons.” I look up. “Are you serious?”
“Jade, I’m always serious.”
I refold the paper. “In exchange for what?”
“You staying in college and continuing to swim.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“There’s no fucking way,” I say, tossing the paper on the table. “Men like you never want something for nothing. Why are you really doing this?”
“It’s complicated,” he says, “and I’m not getting into it tonight. You’ll have to trust me.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“I will tell you,” he says, lowering his voice in volume and pitch, “just not tonight, and not in public.”
I shake my head.
“What do you have to lose?”
“I’m not looking for a relationship,” I tell him. “I dated a guy my entire freshman year who…” I catch myself. “I don’t have time to care for another person.”
“That’s not what this is,” he says.
“I just can’t go through a relationship like that again.”
He furrows his brow. “What did he do to you?”
“My point is—” My phone vibrates. “Sorry,” I say, digging into my purse. “I’ll silence it.” When I look at the screen, I groan. “Fuck.”
“Who is it?” he asks.
“Peter. Don’t worry about it,” I say, tossing it back into my purse.
“If you take my offer, you won’t have to deal with him anymore.”
“Oh, he’d still be around.”
“But he wouldn’t dare disrespect you or make you feel uncomfortable.”
That catches me off guard. “Why not?”
He looks directly into my eyes. “I’d make him pay.”
My chest flutters. “Like you did James?”
“I told you,” he says gruffly. “I’m a very powerful man.”
I do my best to get my breathing under control before the waiter sets my plate in front of me.
“Perhaps you should have started with that offer,” I say.
He removes a pen from his jacket pocket, takes the folded paper from me and writes: 24/7 protection from all asshole men.
He gives me time to think while we both eat.
“Why me?” I finally ask. “Because I’m broke and in need of protection?”
“Because of so many reasons,” he says. “I think we could help each other both get what we want.”
“And what do you want?” I ask.
“That’s also not a topic for tonight,” he says.
“Would I have to sleep with you?” I ask. “As part of this arrangement?”
“I’d prefer you sleep on the estate for logistical reasons,” he says, “but not in my bed.”
“I meant would I have to f—”
“I know what you meant,” he says, leveling me. “No.”
“I’d need to see them,” I say. “Try them out.”
He glances at the other diners. “My bedrooms?”
“Your private pools,” I say with a grin.
“Ah,” he says. “Of course. I can show you tonight.”
“Does that mean you want to take me home?” I ask.
I expect a wry laugh, but he simply says, “Yes.”
“Well then,” I say. “Let’s get the check.”
But even as my body prepares for a fantastic night, my mind screams that I’ll regret this.
That I shouldn’t go home with a man who just beat someone in public.
That I am making a life-changing mistake.
