Conquer Your Love (Surrender Your Love #2)

Conquer Your Love (Surrender Your Love #2) Page 2

“I’m out of the business, Jett. You know that.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Jett whispered.

“You’re my best friend and I’d do anything for you, bro. But last time I barely got away with it. I vowed to stay out of trouble.”

Kenny’s hesitation reflected in his dark eyes, and for a moment Jett was sure his friend would leave him hanging. And then his gaze met Jett’s and Jett knew he had won.

“You like her, don’t you?” Kenny asked.

“More than I care to admit.” It was the truth.

“Then I’ll do it. Just promise to have my back if the wrong people come knocking on my door.”

Jett smiled, and for the first time since the fight with Brooke he almost felt enthusiastic. Hopeful. Because Kenny always knew what to do. He wasn’t one of the most feared hackers for no reason.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it,” Jett said.

“I’ll call once I have a lead.” Kenny stood and Jett walked him to the door.

At 11.45 a.m the cell’s screen buzzed to life with an unknown caller. Jett had been stuck in a meeting for the last two hours, barely paying attention to his father’s endless rambling about a few new acquisitions and the consequent profits the company could make.

Jett excused himself and shot out of the room, pressing the cell to his ear but not speaking until he reached the men’s restroom. The faint scent of roses wafted past as Jett peered into each cubicle, making sure it was empty.

“She boarded a plane to Europe,” Kenny said as a means of introduction.

Had the private detective missed the credit card charge?

“Wait until you hear the next part,” Kenny coaxed. “You sure you were the only secret boyfriend? Because it looks like someone else paid for the tickets.”

Brooke wasn’t like that. And yet did he really know her?

“Who?” Jett’s voice was a layer of ice.

“Ken Clarkson. He’s a lawyer from London. Owns a successful firm. Not married.”

Why the heck did he need to know the last part? Was he supposed to feel better about the fact that Brooke might be seeing a not married guy? When did they meet and why did she trust him enough to let a stranger whisk her away on vacation? Could he be an ex?

“Jett?” Kenny’s tone was strained with something. Certainly not worry. More like humor.

“Give me a sec.”

The pressure behind Jett’s eyes intensified at the thought of Brooke in the arms of another man, claiming what should be Jett’s. He moistened a hand under the cold water tap and ran it over his feverish nape. The cool moisture provided enough diversion to help him gather his thoughts through all the brain fog. And that’s when he began to put two and two together. A lawyer. Paid-for tickets. Europe.

“Where exactly in Europe?”

“Let me check.” The sound of flicking papers carried down the line an instant before Kenny said, “Some place called Bellagio. Never heard of it.”

He had found her in—

Bellagio—Italy.

Fuck!

That wasn’t good. On a scale from one to ten, this was a hundred. A disaster.

“When?”

“Last night,” Kenny said. “She landed earlier this morning.”

Jett’s heart began to thump just a little bit harder. If he jumped on a plane now, he’d be there in eight hours. The actual work would begin now but he wasn’t worried about that. He’d never been scared of giving his best—be it working at his job or getting a woman. What worried him was that he could be too late. He had to get to her, and quickly.

“Do you need me to find out more about the lawyer?” Kenny asked.

“I need something else.” Jett paused as he looked around to make sure no one could hear him. The restroom was still empty, but he lowered his voice nonetheless to be on the safe side. “Find me a gun dealer in Bellagio.”

A pause then, “You’re not going to kill her? Or the lawyer?” He could sense Kenny’s doubt.

What the fuck?

Jett had done many stupid things in his life, but he had never been even remotely inclined to harm a woman. He took a deep breath to steady the waves of anger rushing through him. “Just find me the right guy, Kenny.”

“I was just—”

“Don’t,” Jett said, interrupting him. He had no time for questions. It was getting late and he had to get the company jet ready. “Just do what I said.”

His father’s meeting was still going strong as Jett returned to the conference room. He wasn’t keen on wasting any more time, but as a CEO he couldn’t just leave without notice—or without anybody noticing. It wouldn’t bode well with his reputation. As Jett slipped back into his seat, Robert Mayfield’s stare fell on Jett and his brows shot up. The old man didn’t like to entertain the idea that something else might be more important. Jett scribbled ‘business meeting in Europe—critical’ on one of the notepads carrying the company logo and pushed it across the table toward his father. Signaling Emma to approach, Jett instructed her to gather his stuff, get the company pilot on the phone, and cancel all appointments for the week. He drove home to change and get his passport, then straight to the airport where the company’s private plane would take him all the way to the place he visited not that long ago. With her.

Chapter 1

BROOKE

Love happens in the blink of an eye. One moment your heart is yours, and the next it belongs to someone you never intended to give it to. There is no transition. No earning on his part. Just foolish trust and hope for a future of happiness and emotional fulfillment. As much as we all hope for a happily ever after, life doesn’t work that way.

Love’s a bitch. I had to learn that lesson the hard way in the form of a green-eyed, sexy as sin, six foot two sex god.

Jett.

My first and only foray into love, and the second biggest mistake of my life.

I smirked as I adjusted my sunglasses so my best friend, Sylvie, wouldn’t catch the telltale signs of betrayal in my eyes. God knows I had shed enough tears over Jett. You would have thought they were depleted by now. Fat chance. It seemed I still had a few left, whether I wanted it or not. Not only did I realize that love can grow in the absence of the person you love, but so does the pain resulting from a broken heart.

It was funny, really, because I couldn’t figure out why I started loving him in the first place. Was it his good looks? Or the way he made me feel? The sex? He sure as hell didn’t deserve it.

It was barely ten a.m. but the sun stood high on the horizon, bathing the Malpensa Airport building in a glow. Already I could tell it was going to be a hot day, which wasn’t surprising given that we were in one of the most beautiful and expensive vacation spots in Italy.

“Let me help you,” Sylvie said decisively, snatching my suitcase out of my hand before I could argue. I watched her in silence as she heaved it into the taxi trunk, ignoring the driver’s awkward attempts at helping her. She had been protective and caring for the last two days, ever since the thing with Jett blew up. She had been tripping over her own feet to help me ‘survive’ the raging storm within my heart. In the last forty-eight hours I had been served and massaged, had my hair brushed, my bags packed, and my makeup done by her. I drew the line at having her feed and carry me. Sylvie had always been a good friend, but being caring didn’t come naturally to her. So the sudden attention scared the crap out of me. I didn’t know whether to run away or hug her.

“Hey, Brooke?” Sylvie tapped my shoulder to get my attention. I turned to face her, realizing I had been spaced out. Again. My brain just switched off momentarily like a computer on standby and needed to be tapped back into work mode. It wasn’t natural for a twenty-three-year old. I knew it. She knew it. The whole world probably did. I wished I could make it stop. Get my old life back where I was just ‘Brooke’—an overworked, underpaid college graduate naïve enough to hold on to her dreams.

Just forget.

If only I could.

“Get in,” Sylvie said, holding the taxi door open for me. I nodded thanks and slumped onto the backseat. Sylvie joined me and grabbed my hand, giving it a firm squeeze, while her smile said everything there was to say. My best friend was here to support me. She’d take care of me until my heart mended and the pieces of my world glued back together.

“You’re awesome. You know that?” I whispered to Sylvie.

“That’s what friends are for.” She moistened her lips and her expression clouded over, as though she wanted to say more but decided against it. I scanned her flawless face and long blond hair. Her outward, gentle beauty revealed none of the hard shell coating her heart. Just like me, she had been bent and broken by men but, unlike me, Sylvie never gave up on love. She kept jumping into the next relationship, only to have her heart broken once more. We were different in this respect. I certainly wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Did Clarkson say when you’re going to meet the old man?” Sylvie asked, changing subject.

I shook my head as I thought back to the English lawyer I had met with in New York. “He said he’d call once we landed.” Absentmindedly, I began to play with the metal clasp of my handbag—a birthday gift from Sylvie—and traced my fingers over the soft faux leather. At that time I had been reluctant to accept it because it had been so damn expensive and I wasn’t used to luxury. To think that I had just inherited a multi-million dollar estate from a relative I didn’t even know I had completely blew my mind. To think that Jett had tried to trick me into selling the estate so he could build luxury lake-side accommodations for the rich and famous blew my mind even more—and not in a good way. I smirked and leaned back against the smooth leather seat.

“What’s the plan?” Sylvie asked.

“He’s showing me the property first, then we’ll move on to the next step.”

She nodded slowly. “Which is looking at the estate’s accounting to make sure the old man’s not passing any debt to you.”

“I know that.”

“It was just a reminder, Brooke, in case you forget.”

I shot her a dirty look and she smirked back. I never forgot anything and Sylvie knew it. This was her way to tell me that I was playing in a completely different league here. Basically, well over my head, while she was the one who knew everything about high society, and she was determined to take the role of mentor.

Not that I had ever asked her for her guidance. Or that I needed a mentor. But I let her do and say as she pleased because every now and then Sylvie’s advice hit the spot. I had no idea what to do with a mansion and thousands of acres of land, with an entire legal firm on speed dial, and a bank director wanting to meet me personally to commence our ‘business relationship.’ The coming days would be tough, and I was thankful to have someone like Sylvie by my side.

“You’ll do okay, chica,” Sylvie said, misinterpreting my silence. “I don’t doubt you for a second.”