I clear my throat. “Jackson, where are we?”

He looks at the building and back at me. “This is my other company. I run a security force that has contracts all over the world. I need to run in and show face for about ten minutes. Would you like to come in?” His eyes shift back and forth and he sounds genuinely nervous.

Well there’s a surprise. The man owns a cosmetics company and a security company—talk about polar opposites. My eyes widen at his admission and then I recover, smiling softly. “If you’d like me to, sure.”

We both exit the car and head over to the entrance. Jackson places his hand on my shoulder as he opens the door. Just the small touch sends me into overdrive. I tilt my head and give him a small grin as I enter the office.

It’s nothing like Raven Cosmetics. Where that office is almost feminine, this one is modern and masculine with clean lines and distinctive colors. The floors are gray concrete and the walls are cream and royal blue, which makes sense based on the décor from the plane. In the center of the room, there are two big cubicle sections that each seats five people. The left wall is taken up by four large offices with huge mahogany doors.

Jackson clears his throat as we make our way into the space. Three guys stand and smile when they see him. A few other guys stick their hands up, acknowledging his presence, but continue to work.

“Hey, Muffin!” A tall, muscular guy with long light blond hair styled back off his face says as he walks over, smiling. He’s huge and his arms are covered in tattoos, which might be intimidating if he wasn’t so warm and friendly.

“Hey, Mark.” He looks happy to see him. The two men shake hands and clap each other on the shoulder. Mark turns his attention to me with wide eyes and a large, appraising grin. Jackson bristles. “Mark, this is Catherine. She’s the new publicist for the cosmetics company,” he says stiffly.

I smile and extend my hand. “Hi, Mark. Nice to meet you.”

Mark shakes my hand. “Catherine, it’s a pleasure. Sorry you have to work with this prick all day.” He elbows Jackson in the stomach, still smiling at me.

I giggle and reply, “Interesting choice of words. Jackson describes himself a little differently.”

Mark raises his eyebrows, looking intrigued by my statement. “Really? What did Muff describe himself as?”

“Muff?” I ask, completely lost.

He howls in laughter. “Yup. That’s Jackson! He was always a little soft in the middle,”—he leans in—“whereas the rest of us worked out to keep our amazing physiques.” He stands back up, beaming. “So we told him he had a muffin top and that stuck as his call sign.”

I giggle at the nickname and glance at Jackson, who’s shooting daggers at Mark. Turning back to Mark, I ask, “So what’s your call sign?”

Jackson places his hand on the small of my back. “Twilight and I were both on the same team for four years.”

“Twilight? Oh, I gotta hear this!” I laugh. Now it’s Mark’s turn to give Jackson the evil eye.

Jackson chuckles and pulls me against his side. “Notice how pale Mark is?” He asks, jutting his chin out in his direction. I nod. These two are the female versions of Ashton and me. It’s comforting, considering the day I’ve had. “Well he’s so white he could glitter in the sun. One of the guys’ wives had some kind of obsession with that movie, and he kept telling him he could star in Twilight. So Mark here is our glittery, pale Twilight.”

Mark scoffs and puffs his chest out. “I’m proud of my name. At least they aren’t saying I’m a fat ass. That Edward dude had abs like a rock. Besides, I could kick your ass any day, any time,” he challenges, stepping closer to me as he smiles widely.

Jackson raises his chin and addresses me. “He’s an asshole but knows his shit, so he stays—for now.” He smirks at Mark. “And anyway, he knows who’s in charge. Right, Mark?” I can almost smell the testosterone in the room.

Mark laughs and his eyes crinkle. “Keep thinking that, assclown. You need me too much.” He puts his arm around my shoulders, taunting Jackson.

“Right, remember who signs your paycheck.” Jackson raises a brow.

“Anyway, Catherine, this fucknugget gives you any problems, you call me and I’ll kick his ass.”

I instantly love this man. He flashes me that ever-present smile one last time before heading back over to his desk. Jackson grips my hip, grimacing and mumbling something under his breath.

Jackson guides me over to an office and flips on the light before closing the door. It’s large and airy. There are photos all over the wall and I walk over to get a closer look. There are a few of Jackson, Mark, and some other guys drinking and laughing. A few of him on a boat with some friends, looking carefree and happy. My stomach clenches at the next one. He’s standing in camouflage with a huge gun slung across his body, a menacing look on his face. He looks scary yet unbelievably sexy.

“You know …” I say, turning, and then I gasp as he startles me.

I was so lost in the photos I didn’t even realize he was behind me. “What?” He smiles.

Once my heart settles and I can speak again, I remember what I was going to say. “You looked pretty nice in uniform.”

“Nice?” he asks, arching a brow.

“Cute.”

“Cute?” Apparently this is even worse than nice.

I look back at the photo, trying to figure out what he seems bothered over. “What? Is cute not a good word?”

I feel him move in behind me, and I struggle not to lean back into him.

“Cute is for babies and puppies. I can think of at least ten other words to better describe me,” he says against my ear. A shiver races over my body and I have to consciously work to steady my breathing.

I close my eyes and smother the desire burning through me. “Really?” I ask breathily.

“Hot, sexy, buff, handsome, fucking amazing, God’s idea of perfect … I could go on, but any of those would be acceptable,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

I turn to face him. We’re so close physically, but in any other way we’re miles apart. Still, I’m battling every cell in my body not to give in to him.

“Jackson,” I warn.

He takes a small step forward. “I know you’re taken, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

My brows furrow in confusion. “Taken?”

He looks down at my left hand and brings it up between us. “Aren’t you engaged?” He looks from my eyes back down to my hand where my ring used to sit.

“Oh. Ummm, no. Not anymore. We’re over and have been for a while.” I don’t know what to say. I can’t tell him the guy was Neil. I start to feel panic rising at how ridiculously screwed-up my life is and how all of this can come crumbling so easily.

“That certainly changes things.” His eyes blaze with unspoken promises.

“Changes things? No. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re my client.” Or how I’m a mess over the constant screw-ups from the men in my life. And it definitely doesn’t change how I know with every ounce of my being that Jackson would ruin me if I let him in.

“Catherine, I can’t stay away from you.” His voice penetrates through my thoughts, straight to my heart, and it takes me a second to find my resolve.

He cups my face in his hands, holding me, forcing me to look at him. “Jackson, I’m not with anyone, but this isn’t a good—”

Before I can finish my sentence his mouth is on mine. All at once, I’m surrounded by heat, strength, and power—all that is Jackson. The sparks I felt previously are nothing compared to the inferno raging between us right now. I close my eyes and lose myself in the feel of his mouth on mine. My chest presses against him as he pushes me back against the wall and tilts my head to the side. His tongue is against my lips, begging for entrance. I sigh, which is all the permission he needs. Our tongues swirl together as we kiss with fervor. Lifting my hands, I grip his hips and pull him closer. Wanting to touch his body, I trace my hands across the muscles of his taut back, over his hard arms, across the ridges of his abs. The way he feels against my lips, against my body, against my fingers … it’s incredible. I could kiss him forever—his mouth is heaven. Never have I been kissed like this. Jackson shifts and lifts my head to gain better access, and I willingly give it to him. Pushing and pulling each other, trying to get closer and closer, I moan, causing Jackson to break the kiss.