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It sets me on edge. “I can’t change who I am.”

“And the irony of that statement is that who you are is half the attraction.”

I blanch, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.” He strokes my cheek. “I’m going to get packed.”

He turns and walks out of the room, leaving me a bit stunned and confused. We can’t get by this family issue. He stood right in the bedroom and told me, point blank, that his brother is dead because of my family. He doesn’t trust me. He can’t trust me. We can’t trust each other. And yet, I’m still here. Why? I turn to stare in the mirror and study the woman in the mirror, as if she will have that answer, as if she’s not me. She who was born a Knight but hasn’t felt like she belonged her entire life. Jax knows this about me when all those close to me don’t. Maybe that’s my answer. The real me is invisible to everyone but him. But why have I accepted that status in my life? Where has that gotten me?

This idea dominates my thoughts as I finish my make-up, dry my hair and flat iron it to a rich brown sheen, that lays down my shoulders. Satisfied I now look presentable, I squat down next to my bag to pack up my make-up, when my hand hits my father’s journal. I frown and pick it up. Why would I pack this for a quick shower? Did Jax pack it?

I thumb to the page that I have marked and open it to read that dreaded line that haunts me: We were all better off with him dead. I swallow hard with the brutal statement that means more after talking to Jax today. After hearing how certain he is that our family is not only the reason his brother is dead, but that there was foul play in our dealings with Hunter. I think of that strange exchange with him a few minutes ago, about me being a Knight and suddenly that makes more sense. Did Jax read this?

***

Jax…

I pack a bag with the scent of Emma’s perfume on my skin, the taste of her on my lips. I need to rein myself in. I came here to prove the Knights killed my brother and then make them pay for it, but I ended up in bed with Emma. No. This is more than in bed. I invited her to the castle and for no reason, but I want her with me. I want more time with her. I scrub my jaw and walk out onto the patio, leaning on the railing. How the hell did the one woman I can’t walk away from end up being Emma Knight? Part of me wants to turn around and fuck her all over again. If I fuck her enough, maybe I’ll fuck her out of my system, but that’s bullshit I would tell myself to feel better for about three seconds. I’m not fucking that woman out of my system and the only reason I’d try, is to have an excuse to get her naked again. And again. And fucking again.

My cellphone rings in my pocket and I snake it out to find the caller ID reads “Jill”. Jill being my operations manager who I’d emailed early this morning and instructed to push my meeting back a few days. “This is Jax,” I answer, formal by necessity. Jill’s too damn clingy for comfort, considering she’s not just my operations manager, she’s my brother’s ex-fiancée.

“I know it’s Jax,” she says, giving a fluttery laugh. “I called you. I got your email but Neal Mink is not pleased. He won’t move your mid-week meeting to right before the party Friday night.”

I frown at what feels out of character for Neal. “What am I missing? Why’s he so damn angry?”

“Something about you blowing up some investment and you’re going to have to pay in whiskey. He said he’s getting a flight out tomorrow. He’ll be in your office on Tuesday.”

“I’m not rushing back for Neal.”

“Do you know how much business we do with him?” she asks, her tone lifting. “Hunter spent years nursing that relationship.”

My jaw clenches because that’s not actually true. I nursed that relationship. “I’m not coming back for a Tuesday meeting.”

“What about the Whiskey Harvest, Jax?”

“What about it?”

“It’s this weekend. All of our big clients will be in to taste samples.”

“And you have managed this for three years. You don’t need me to prepare for it. I’ll be back in time for the event.”

“I had Hunter, Jax.” Her voice rises again. “I had Hunter.”

I scrub my jaw. “I’ll see if I can get back sooner than later. And I’ll talk to Brody and see if he can get in sooner.”

“Brody?” she demands of my brother. “You know Brody hates the Harvest.”

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