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  For a moment his features are softened and completely serious. His fingers wiggle at his sides as his hands start to lift. I think he might touch me again, but he slides his hands into his pockets instead. "I don't plan on babysitting you. I'll help you with your shopping and then make you fall madly in love with me..." he glances at his watch and tips his head to the side like he's considering something, "By dinner time. That sounds about right. You'll be a molten ball of lust, unable to tell me no by then." When he glances up, he gives me a boyish smile. It's so smug, so utterly confident, and so completely fake.

  I fold my arms across my chest and throw out my hip. "I don't think so."

  Jonathan's eyes dip to my cleavage. "I know so. One day with me is all it takes, baby."

  Huffing, I turn on my heel and head down the mall corridor, looking for some place that he won't follow. Tampax really needs to add a tampon store in here because right then, I don't see any place that will deter him to that extreme. "One minute's enough for me, thanks."

  "Ouch!" He's behind me and catches up, falling in step beside me. "Are you always this feisty?"

  "Bitchy, the word you're looking for is bitchy." I don't look at him.

  He laughs. "You are not a bitch, not by a long shot. For one, real bitches don't make it sound cute."

  Go away, go away, go away! "I'm not cute. I'm—"

  He steps in front of me and cuts me off. "You're not cute at all." I stop abruptly and stare at him with my mouth hanging open. He laughs lightly. It's the perfect sound; completely amused, kind, and warm. If a laugh could double as a tender embrace, that's what Jonathan's would do. His voice deepens and sounds completely different when he speaks this time, "You're beautiful, devastatingly so."

  I can't tell if he's teasing me or if he's serious. The way he says it, the way his eyes meet mine make me think he's telling the truth, but there's a slight curve at the corners of his lips that makes me think he's playing with me. Those words catch me off guard and seep inside. I hate it. This is no one. He's just some random guy that my cousin called up to have sex with me. He's not serious. From the look of him, he's never serious. I swallow hard and look away.

  A light laugh escapes before I can swallow it down, but I don't care. I'm never going to see him again and there's no doubt in my mind that he's just trying to get into my pants. When I look up, my gaze meets his and I step toward him, placing my hands on his chest. My voice is deeper, quieter. My lips form the words slowly, hugging each one tightly. His eyes dip to my mouth as I speak. "So are you. You're exactly my type...too bad you're not a virgin. We could have had something." I wink at him and turn away with a smirk on my face.

  Jonathan seems stunned, but he snaps out of it fast enough to grab my wrist. He pulls me back and doesn't let go, which sends a surge of sparks shooting up my arm. A devilish smile is on his face. "Are you seriously tossing me back because I'm not a loser?"

  "Virgin and loser aren't synonymous." SAT word. See, I'm smart. I can handle this guy. He probably doesn't even know what it means.

  He catches my superior tone and throws back, "Well, that's where you're wrong, because they usually are. It's not everyday that a guy meets a hot girl and finds out that she hasn't had sex yet, because she chooses not to. It's usually because the opportunity was never given to this girl, and as soon as an opportunity prePixsents itself, she'll say yes. So, Cassie Whatever-your-last-name-is, do you want me to show you a few things and punch that V card for you?" He's so smug, so overly confident, that I want to punch him and knock the sly look right off his face, but I'm too busy tripping over my jaw. It's hanging open and I have trouble snapping it shut.

  Stepping toward him, I lean in like I'm going to kiss him, but I pinch his cheek instead. "Awh, you're so cute! You think you'd be doing me a favor?" I drop my hand, along with the plastic smile, and roll my eyes. "How very noble of you."

  "I know. I'm a noble fellow." He tries to take my hand, but I move. He ends up with my wrist and I feel that tug inside my body again.

  The physical reaction to his touch is horrifying because it shoots through me like a bolt of electricity, frying my brain and landing directly between my legs. "You're anything but noble, and no, I'm not interested. I was serious about what I said before."

  Jonathan drops my wrist as a baffled expression crosses his face. "You can't be..." I roll my eyes and start walking again. I spot a pink store that repels most guys, so I make a beeline for the front. Jonathan trails behind me. "You're the first chick who's shot me down."

  "Good, then maybe you'll learn something."

  Jonathan stops walking for a second and then races after me. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were trying to teach me a lesson." The infuriating smirk on his lips is still there, bright and beautiful. "You see, I was distracted by your perfectly sinful body. My brain actually exploded back there when you said you only use it for good, which isn't good at all, since that makes you off limits."

  I'm smiling, and trying to suppress the grin, but I can't help it. I reach into my purse and pull out a Kleenex. I hold it over my shoulder for him. "Here's a tissue, go clean it up." Every time I try to stop, he laces together some sort of flattery with self-deprecation. Apparently, I'm a sucker for that combination.

  He snatches it from me, grabs my shoulder, and spins me around. There's a huge smile on his face as his eyes dart between my lips and my eyes. "Let me convince you. You're so wrong about sex that it isn't even funny. It's not something to be saved in a glass jar. It's hot and sweaty with two slick bodies giving in to one another. It's ecstasy and agony mingling together to form the perfect high. It's not the kind of thing you save. It's the kind of thing you learn to master, and you can't do that with just one guy. Give me the day to convince you that you've got it wrong."

  His words rattle me as much as his touch. There's something about the way he says it that makes my stomach twist. I glance away from him with a plastic grin on my face. "And how do you plan on doing that? I'm assuming it's a hands on learning experience? Get over yourself, Jonathan. Not every girl wants you."

  He feigns being hurt, but recovers quickly, moving his face way too close to mine, whispering, "I think you do want me, Cassie."

  "You're so arrogant."

  "You're so uptight."

  I glare at him, surprised he said it. "What a dickish thing to say."

  His voice is smooth and the words sound intoxicating even though he's insulting me. "What a prude thing to say."

  "I'm not a prude."

  He laughs softly as his eyes lock on my lower lip. "Ah, that must be the problem, because you're the definition of prude. When Webster was talking to Merriam about that entry, your name came up."

  My jaw drops open and hangs there for a moment before a sharp smile cuts across my lips. I'm in his face, so close to him that I can feel his warm breath. "At least my picture isn't in the Wiki entry for male slut."

  Jonathan grins and his dark brows lift, like he didn't think I had it in me to spar with him. "Did you even know that term before you met me?"

  I fold my arms over my chest, throw my hip out, and cock my head. "I've met a million guys like you. There's nothing special about you. You're a mask of perfection with no substance underneath. You're like every other guy out there who's wanted to get into my panties, and you'll end up like the rest of them as well—rejected. Access denied." As I speak, I drop my arms and step toward him. We're nose to nose, eyes locked, and breathing way too hard. I wonder if I've gone too far. At one point something changed and it felt wrong, but I couldn't shut up. I had to have the last word.

  Jonathan blinks those dark lashes slowly, and when he lifts his gaze to meet mine, he notices that I've been staring at his lips. They look so soft, and the way the corners of his mouth curl up into that cocky smirk makes me crazy. The mall noise fades away and I'm only aware of him and me. His voice is barely a whisper. "Kiss me, Cassie."

  My stomach flips as every muscle in my body tightens. The pull is there, the attractio
n doesn't stop just because I don't want it. If anything, his words were like throwing water on a grease fire—everything combusts. I'm too close to him and getting way too hot. Watching him through lowered lashes, I finally turn away.

  His hand reaches out and touches my cheek lightly, directing my face back toward him. Jonathan leans in closer, slowly, which makes my pulse pound wildly in my ears. A shiver takes hold of me and rushes through my body. Jonathan's light pink lips are perfect. I'm gazing at them, watching him come closer and closer. When his head tips to the side and I feel his breath on my mouth, panic takes over. A lifetime of choices are about to be wiped away because I want to kiss a stranger in the mall. I turn away just as his lips touch me. Instead of kissing me on the lips, his mouth lands on my cheek.

  I'm shaking and can't hide it. This guy is making me come apart at the seams. I'm going to lose my mind if I don't put some distance between us. But God, his lips—when they brush against my cheek, my eyes close and I hold my breath. His touch is so soft and his lips are warm and perfect. He pulls away slowly and looks at me from under dark lashes with those sapphire eyes.

  My heart is pounding and I can't think. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He's a goddamn stranger, but it feels like there's a cord between us, pulling us together. Fate couldn't be so cruel. This guy can't possibly be my soul mate, but what I feel deep within protests. It's like I've recognized my other half and he isn't who I thought he'd be. Everything about him is wrong.

  I apologize, I'm not sure why. "I'm sorry. I have to go. See you around." I take off as fast as I can without actually running, and this time Jonathan Ferro doesn't follow.

  CHAPTER 6

  JONATHAN

  That perfect ass is swaying hypnotically as Cassie races away from me. I can't think of the last time I had a girl say no. Okay, I can't think of any time a woman has said no to me.

  I didn't even get a kiss.

  Damn, that ass. I imagine holding Cassie tight, her naked thighs splayed over my hips while squeezing those perfect curves as I rock into her. I can picture her face, the way her head tips back when she moans my name. The daydream is short lived. I'm standing in front of Banana Republic with a hard on. I duck inside and try to force it down, but the dick wants what it wants. Plus the image in my mind was so perfectly sinful that I don't want to let it pass just yet.

  The mall sucks. Concentrating, I move between the racks, thinking of why I got sent down here in the first place. My mother's death stare is vivid in my mind, along with her shrill voice. It's enough to make my nuts crawl back up into my body. It works better than dumping a bucket of ice down my pants. Damn, the woman is vile.

  I flip through shirts and grab a few. I was literally sent down here with only the shirt on my back. Since I'm eighteen and the family heir, I have money, but not now. Mom froze my accounts, for the time being at least. Apparently, my little stunt was over the top. Whatever. It was worth it. I grin thinking about the pay off and Brittany's perfect little breasts bouncing up and down as she fucked me right before I left. That seems like months ago.

  My mind shifts back to Cassie. A virgin. Fuck, that chick is crazy—and hot. How has she not slept with someone? Looking for Mr. Perfect is stupid. She'll never find him. Even if she does, she won't know if they're good together until she does it with him. Some guys can't satisfy a woman with what they were given. The dick, and what he does with it, makes a difference. Sex isn't just about getting off—it's two-sided, which Cassie has no clue about. What a waste of ass.

  I think about her all the way back to Uncle Luke's. By the time I walk into my room and toss my stuff on the bed, I know what I want to do. But it'll have to wait. I'm being beckoned. He probably wants to make sure I didn't use any plastic.

  "Jonathan, come down here please." Uncle Luke calls up the stairs.

  I toss my stuff on the bed and go back down. He's in the massive kitchen, sitting on the counter top. "Hey, Uncle Luke. I thought you were going out all day."

  "So did I, but plans changed." His brow is furrowed like he's trying to find the square root of 3. He runs his hand through his hair and seems distressed. "I have to head to Meridian for a few days to take care of something. It can't wait."

  "That's fine." Why is he telling me this? The guy usually just takes off and forgets to feed me. If I was a hamster, I would have died last time I was here. Water? Food? Jon who? The man has the attention span of a kid on Pixie Stix. Seriously.

  "And you're coming with me."

  I laugh, and then realize that he's not joking. "Uncle Luke—"

  "Your mother will kill me if I leave you alone here. You'll do something stupid and she'll blame me. I like my gifts, Jonathan. And I get a huge present if I manage to keep you out of trouble." He doesn't look at me.

  Fuck. I don't want to go camp out in some trashy motel with Uncle Luke for a week. "I'm not going to get in trouble." Uncle Luke gives me a look that says otherwise. I do the craziest thing I can imagine and tell him the truth. "Listen, I'm not. Remember, Robyn? She's around and she set me up with her celibate friend. I'm hanging out with a girl that doesn't put out. See? I can't get in trouble. There's no one to knock up, and I'll stay away from the press."

  He watches me for a second, his dark eyes looking me over like he's wondering if I'm lying. "Your friend won't have sex with you? Is that what you just said?" It takes me a second to realize that he's laughing at me.

  I let out an annoyed sigh and press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. "Yeah, so there's nothing I can do that'll piss off Mom."

  He's smiling at me. I can feel his amusement from across the room. Luke thinks it's funny. Then he's serious again, pointing his finger at me. "Fine, but if you do something, so help me God—"

  "I won't." I lift my hands in a classic stick 'em up pose, palms facing Luke, surrendering. "Besides, my funds have been locked up, so I can't spend more than a couple hundred bucks a day. That's not enough to do anything fun, or press worthy."

  He considers me for a moment, while his long bony fingers rub his chin. Finally, he says, "Fine. I'm headed out in a few minutes. Your stepmom, or whatever the hell she is, was looking for you, too. She said she'll call later."

  "Laurie?"

  "No, the other one—Chantel."

  I try to hide it, but the sound of her name does something to me. I nod and turn on my heel. Before I get two steps between us, Luke warns, "If your mother ever finds out about them..."

  I glance back over my shoulder. The lie slips through my teeth like liquid, perfectly smooth. "There's nothing to find out. They're just checking up on me." I've gotten so good at misleading people, at making them look the other way. Luke putting the pieces together is something, but fuck that. I can make him doubt it, and then I'll have to make sure they don't call me down here. What the hell was she thinking?

  His gaze narrows and rests on mine. "Just because you're the heir doesn't mean you can do anything you like. Anyone can say yes, Jonny, but it's a strong man who learns to say no. Your friend with the chastity belt will do you some good. Keep it in your pants. And if your father's leeches show up while I'm around, they'll get an ass full of buckshot. Got it?" There are enough firearms in his basement to form a small militia. I'm pretty sure he shot at the mailman once because he thought he was under attack. Mom nearly killed him for that one. Since then the postal workers around here don't bring packages to his door.

  "Yes, sir." There's nothing else to say. I'm screwed. He knows, which means other people have to know, too. I wonder if I should go on lying to him, but what's the point. Besides, I need someone to talk to. My life has turned into such a goddamn mess. There are layers of lies tangled together so tightly that I have no idea how to yank myself free. It's daunting.

  Rubbing my hand over the back of my neck, I look up at him. "It didn't start the way you think it did. I didn't go after them. They came to me. I wouldn't steal my Dad's girlfriend."

  "Learn to say no. In the end, it doesn't matter what happened or who starte
d what. It's whether or not you acted in a way that makes you proud. Can you honestly tell me that you can look at yourself in the mirror every morning and be okay with what you did?" Uncle Luke watches me, but my gaze doesn't lift from the floor.

  There's no excuse for what I've done and I've felt guilty about it since it first happened. I did say no. I did send her away, but she didn't listen. Guilt hollowed me out after that. I'd see her—Monica—my soon-to-be stepmom, standing with my dad. I know it's some messed up shit. I know I'm not supposed to fuck her, but I was barely a teenager. She didn't stop coming to my room, and I couldn't make her leave me alone. Avoiding her was the only thing that worked, but I had to go home eventually. Then, everything changed when Mom did something that no one expected and refused to divorce Dad. When Monica found out, she was livid. The sex changed after that.

  I shove the thoughts away, forcing them to the back of my mind along with the guilt. She was the first of his lovers to go after me. Since then there have been more, and I did nothing to stop the rest of them. I learned quickly that they were all there for the money, for the lavish presents. We all got what we wanted, and no one knew what I was doing with my Dad's mistresses or what they did to me.

  I want to keep it that way. It sounds horrible, and I know Luke is right. If Mom ever finds out, she'll kill me. Besides, it's not the kind of thing I like to talk about. I didn't want to be that kind of guy. It just happened.

  My silence speaks volumes. Luke's hand rests on my shoulder before he walks out. "Start over, kid. Mistakes only pull you down as long as you hold onto them."

  CHAPTER 7

  CASSIE

  "So, how'd your day go?" Robyn asks me later that night. She's still wearing her uniform from work, but she's pulled her silky hair into a ponytail and changed her shoes out for sparkly flip flops. We're standing in my aunt's kitchen making quesadillas.