Make Me Lose Control

“Jace, she needs time with you.”

His face settled into stubborn lines. “Look, I don’t know anything about her. I know even less about being a father and it’s obvious it’s too late for me to learn. Now that I’ve seen her, it’s clear she’s not interested in that kind of relationship with me anyway.”

“You can’t know what might happen over time—”

“A summer won’t help.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

“No.” He forked his hand through his hair. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame her in the least, but...but no.”

Shay wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something at him. Maybe if she quit now, walked out on the stupid man, he’d be forced to rethink his decision.

Or he’d retreat for four weeks and not engage with the girl altogether until it was time to pack her off to boarding school.

Still, perhaps it would be better that she go, especially as Jace had made it clear he wasn’t interested in being around her, despite that scorching, seeking kiss. Shay could return tonight to her own place. Wasn’t she accustomed to being alone?

A furtive movement over Jace’s shoulder caught her eye. London, dressed in her usual dreary black, her presence moving along the hall like a shadow.

The girl didn’t need to be ignored and left adrift, she thought, her heart aching. London needed an anchor. Something Shay had been providing the past months.

Four more weeks wouldn’t be so bad, she decided. She’d take that time to do what she could for the teen...while taking care to save herself from any unreciprocated wishes or impossible dreams.

* * *

JACE AWOKE AT DAWN. Jet lag was a bitch, and so was the cold, cavernous master suite. He yanked on jeans, a T-shirt and a pair of running shoes and let himself out the back door that opened onto the wide deck that wrapped around the house.

The air was still, the sky a pale, pale gray. The green of the fir trees along the shore was almost black against the nearly colorless canvas. Mist rose from the lake, obscuring its surface. Resembling flying ghosts, the vapor skimmed across the water then shifted, driven by a slight breeze to return like second thoughts.

Jace jogged down the steps to the sloping lawn that led to the narrow beach and the dock there. The wooden structure was painted a deep blue with matching canvas awnings, and consisted of a short rock staircase rising to a platform that loomed over the water. From it, a gangplank angled down to the wide berth that contained the sleek powerboat he’d bought with the house. It was neatly tied to metal cleats and bobbed gently.

Where were the keys? he wondered as an urge came over him to take the thing for a spin. He could already feel the power of it in his hands and beneath his feet, a convenient vehicle for whisking him away from the tangled complications in his life.

But hell, this was a lake, wasn’t it? A finite body of water that meant he was caught forever within its boundaries. Any trip would only bring him back to his starting place.

To London.

To Shay.

To those misgivings that continued to emerge from the troubled pool of his thoughts.

But no, damn it, he assured himself. He’d made a decision to cut this sojourn short. The right decision.

All he needed was a little caffeine to cement that certainty.

So he turned back to the house, only to find someone else was up, as well. In the kitchen Shay was at the counter. Once more she was occupied with the coffee machine, her back to him.

The overhead light picked out gold threads in her auburn hair. The color warmed the stainless-steel-and-cement kitchen, a flame that seemed to give the place some much-needed life. A simple white T-shirt hung from her slender shoulders to brush the waist of the soft, beltless pair of denim jeans she wore. They were cuffed at the ankle to reveal her small bare feet, her toenails painted a translucent pink. Through the windows, the same shade was washing the sky as the sun began to rise over the mountains.

Jace stared at the woman, the same feeling every time he saw her rising like those vapor ghosts on the lake. It went beyond wanting her—and he wanted her very much. Maybe because she’d made him smile and laugh and, most important, take himself a little less seriously.

Just as her presence enlivened the house, for those two nights at the inn, she’d made him feel a bit more human.

Shay suddenly broke the silence. “When are you going to tell London?” she asked, her back still turned.

He blinked. She’d been aware he was standing there...admiring? Clearing his throat, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tell her what?”

“About the change of plans.” She turned and carried a full mug of steaming coffee in his direction. His hands automatically reached for it when she held it his way. “About the upcoming summer session at the boarding school.”

“Uh...” For someone with such bright hair, her blue eyes could be so damn cool, he thought. They stabbed at him now like icy shards. “I’m not sure.”

She returned to retrieve her own thick white mug, where bold red letters proclaimed Size Matters. Jace glanced at the side of his own. Biker Chick. Huh.

“If you’re uncertain about that,” she said, gazing at him over the rim of her coffee, “perhaps it isn’t the right thing to do.”

He took a swallow of the hot dark brew. “It’s the right thing to do.” Because he was the wrong kind of man and it was certainly the wrong time—as in, too late—to try to forge a real relationship with the teen.

Shay shrugged one shoulder. The wide neck of her T-shirt slipped, revealing the lacy edge of a pale pink bra strap. Jace’s belly, and then his groin, tightened. Hell. It took just that small glimpse of intimate apparel and semiprivate flesh to get his full sexual attention.

Tightening his hold on his mug, he glanced away, trying to distract himself and the instinct that was clamoring at him. Snatch her up, it said. Throw her over your shoulder.

In his bedroom, he’d toss her to the mattress, strip her bare, then fist his hands in her hair as he insinuated himself between her thighs. She’d be wet for him, and hot, and he’d lose himself in her and all the problems plaguing—

“What’s everybody doing up so early?” a new voice asked.

Jace jolted, then glanced over his shoulder to see London shuffling into the room, the hem of a plaid flannel robe flapping around her ankles, her starkly dark hair hanging in her face. Even half-asleep there didn’t seem to be any child left in her.

What did you expect? he asked himself. Teddy bears and Barbie dolls?

“What can I get you?” Shay asked now. “OJ?”

The girl tipped up her chin so her gaze could meet the tutor’s from behind her swathe of hair. “Espresso?”

“I don’t think so,” Shay said, shaking her head. “Green tea? Or I can make you a fruit smoothie.”

London spun around and it was then Jace noticed she was wearing slippers shaped like strawberries. Was there some little girl left inside her, after all? “I’m going back to bed,” she said around a huge yawn.

“Classwork starts at eight,” Shay called after her.

Her mumbled reply sounded sleepy.

“Why the hell do you suppose she bothered to get up?” he asked, bewildered.

Glacial blue eyes shifted once more to his face. “My guess?” Shay said. “To make sure you’re still here.”

Shit. Jace didn’t know how to reply to that.

“It’s why you should explain what’s going on right away,” the tutor continued. “Tell her about the school, the new timetable.”