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She bit down on her lip, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You’re a liar. You want me as much as I want you.”
She was right. He was a liar. Millions of dollars rolled in from his ability to lie and cheat. He’d ordered killings and may again sooner rather than later. He didn’t deserve this beautiful, sweet woman before him.
Mac eased up slightly on the swaying hammock and stared her straight in the eyes. “I can’t want you. Not like that. Not anymore.”
He heard her breath hitch, saw the shimmer in her eyes and he cursed himself. He’d never forgive himself if they were intimate and she fell for him. They’d go their separate ways in Miami and she’d be hurt. She couldn’t be part of his life, not the ugly world he was born into. She’d be ruined and he hated like hell that Martin had been right.
With a tilt of her chin as she blinked back tears, Jenna took only a second to compose herself. “I never thought you’d turn into a coward.”
“Coward?”
She leaned down, gripped the ropes on either side of him, sending the hammock swaying slightly. “You’re afraid of wanting me for more than sex. You know it, and you’re terrified because I know it.”
Damn it, this was going too far. “Jenna—”
“Unless you’re about to tell me I’m right, then save it.” Her eyes narrowed as she licked her lips. Those lips he’d tasted, those same lips he craved when they weren’t on his. “I’m going to bed alone. I don’t care what you do anymore. If you can’t be honest with me, then we have nothing more to say.”
With a quick jerk he didn’t see coming, she flipped the hammock and sent him plummeting face-first onto the deck. Mac turned his head just in time to see her bare feet disappear into the bungalow. The bedroom door slammed seconds later.
Mac couldn’t help but laugh as he lay there on the hard floor. One glass of wine and his Jenna was aroused, angry and feisty.
Damn if that didn’t make him want her more than ever.
Eleven
Jenna woke with a start when her pillow was jerked from beneath her head. Disoriented, she blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through her open blinds. Blinds she’d closed before bed.
Jenna turned her head to see Mac standing beside her bed, holding her beloved pillow.
“Whatever you’re smirking about, go away and give me back my pillow.”
His rich laughter flooded the room. “Get up, sunshine. Today we’re getting back to Mac and Jenna. No wedding talk, no pretend relationship, just us.”
Figuring she had no choice, and since she was already awake, Jenna sat up in her bed and rubbed her eyes. “What do you mean, back to us?”
He tossed her pillow behind her and took a seat on the edge of the bed, caging her legs in on either side with his hands. “I mean things have been too intense lately. We need a break from this charade and I just want to be us again.”
She couldn’t agree more. One of them was going to break if they didn’t step away from the emotional chaos that had been controlling them. But how could they just be themselves? They were on this island with a slew of wedding people, her mother and sister and Martin.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Just get dressed and meet me out front in five minutes.”
Jenna laughed as Mac jumped off the bed and headed toward the door. “I’ll need more than five minutes to throw clothes on and brush my teeth.”
He gripped the edge of the door and threw her a look over his shoulder. “Fine. Seven minutes. No more.”
Rolling her eyes, Jenna grabbed her pillow and tossed it across the room. Mac closed the door just in time.
Throwing her covers off, Jenna was out of bed in seconds flat. She got ready quicker than she would’ve liked, but with her hair up in a knot on her head, a simple tank sundress and clean teeth, this was as good as it was going to get. Who knew what Mac had planned? He was always acting on a whim, living from moment to moment.
Jenna was relieved he didn’t bring up her blatant advances from last night. Perhaps whatever outing he had planned was a way to get them to move beyond this awkward, warped version of a fake engagement. She was too confused over what was going on, between what was real and what was completely fabricated, to keep up the pretense.
The bedroom door flew open just as she slid into her silver-sequined flip-flops.
“Oh, good. You’re ready a minute early.”
