Jax strode down the hallway to find his fiancée. He didn’t give a good damn if the three Vincent intruders were offended by his rudeness or by his near nudity. This was his house.
Propped against the doorway of the bathroom, arms folded, he watched as Mila dropped several toiletry items into an overnight bag.
“So you’re leaving?”
Her face was an unyielding mask as she picked up a small bag and placed it beside a larger one on the granite countertop.
“I need some time with my family to think things over. You need to do the same.”
For a long moment he examined every inch of the woman he loved. Fresh from her shower, with no makeup and her hair slicked back, she was so beautiful it made his breath burn in his lungs. He freely admitted her physical attributes had been the initial hook for him; hell, his addiction to her brown skin and lithe body started on day one. Beyond the combination of high cheekbones, angular chin and plump lips instrumental in making her an international beauty icon, he was drawn to her strength, her unshakeable convictions. Her loyalty. Her caring nature.
Just being in her presence was like receiving repeated oxygen boosts after having the wind knocked out of him. He wanted to give her everything he owned, but she had to be willing to accept it. And forget about trivial nonsense. Thick disappointment lodged in his throat at the thought of her running away but he refused to beg her to stay.
She hesitated for a moment, but then continued pulling from the few clothes in the closet.
“I didn’t ask your permission Jaxon.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, Miss Vincent,” he said, sighing as he entered the spacious enclosure. Pulling a folded black sweater from the shelf, he worked it over his head and then stepped into a pair of slate grey slacks before slipping on socks, shoes and a belt. When he went to his bureau and slapped on a hint of the sweet-spicy cologne she’d given him, her eyes grew round and her packing halted.
“Are you leaving?”
“Where are you going this late at night?”
“Out,” he replied, draping a black wool sports coat over his arm.
Grooves of a scowl lined her forehead. “But…I thought you were tired?”
“Yep. And don’t forget hungry and horny.” He patted his pockets, satisfied when he felt the prickle of his keys. Then he checked his wallet for the essentials. He deliberately left the mobile phone on the valet stand.
“What did you just put in your wallet? And why aren’t you taking your phone?” Mila almost shrilled as she followed him to the hallway between the closet and bathroom. “Are you’re still hungry? And horny?”
He turned and made sure to give her a cordial smile, much like one he’d give a stranger on the street.
“My needs were the least of your concern just a little while ago. Don’t start worrying about me now.”