Mondays were always tough. But this one was particularly brutal.

A big donor had dropped out of Friday’s fundraiser, making the likelihood that we’d hit our target for grants quite low indeed. Emails kept popping up in my inbox, crowding it with a million requests. A million tasks. I’d spilled Diet Coke on my white shirt at lunch, and now I had a vomit-colored, areola-shaped stain on my boob. My secretary had discovered I’d accidentally double booked myself for a big meeting on Wednesday, and I’d had to cancel my visit to my favorite all girls’ school in London (I was due to sit in on a coding class I’d very much been looking forward to). I’d made the call personally, and had felt like a complete and utter wanker the whole time.

It didn’t help that I couldn’t stop thinking about Charlie. I walked around in a daze, one foot in the present, the other in the early hours of yesterday morning, when I’d been wrapped up in Charlie, clawing at the sheets as I’d come and come and come.

I was still sore. Still exhausted, even though I’d passed out the second my head had hit the pillow last night. I could smell him on me.

I wanted to leave him behind. Wanted to focus on my workday. But I couldn’t.

The worse my day got, the more I craved him. Craved the way he made me feel—like I was capable and safe and free.

He’d built his business from scratch. He’d had days like this. And I had a feeling he’d know exactly what to say to make me feel better.

Michael always ran when things got hard. When I got difficult.

But Charlie—I knew he’d be different.

I’d meant what I said about keeping things casual between us. I got the feeling that ship had sailed, though, somewhere around the time when Charlie had totally charmed my family.

Charmed me.

I looked up at the knock on my door. It was open—I always left it that way unless I was on a personal call—and Jack stood beside it, knuckle poised against the jamb.

“Have a minute?” he asked.

He had his other hand in the pocket of his suit trousers. He looked subdued. Brow furrowed, eyes stormy.

“That depends,” I said, setting my pen down. “Are you going to apologize for the way you behaved at lunch yesterday?”

Jack looked down, slipping his other hand into his pocket. “Jane, I’m telling you, there’s something about that bloke that doesn’t add—”

“Out,” I said, pointing to the door. “Get out. Now.”

He looked up. “I’m sorry. Even if I don’t like him, I shouldn’t have been rude to Charlie like that. Now can I come in please?”

I eyed him. Something was up. Jack was stubborn as a mule. He never gave in this easily.

Sighing, I said, “Apology accepted. Come in.”

“Thanks.” He closed the door behind him.

I watched as he unbuttoned his blazer and sat in the chair across from mine. He shifted uncomfortably, shooting his cuffs before he put his hands on his knees. One of them started bobbing. He looked away. Chewed on his thumbnail.

“Want to talk about it?” I said.

His eyes slid to meet mine. “Talk about what?”

“What’s going on with you.” I nodded at his knee.

It went still.

“You’re different with him,” Jack said, swiftly putting the focus back on me. “The way you smile—it’s in your eyes.”

My cheeks prickled with heat. “Am I really so obvious?”

“In general? No. But with him?” His knee started bobbing again. “Yes. Don’t get me wrong—I love it when you’re happy. That’s what I want for you, yeah?”

I swallowed. “Yeah.”

“But I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Jane, be careful. Don’t you think things are moving a little fast with him? You haven’t brought a guy home for Sunday roast since—well.”

Since Michael.

I put a hand on my throat. My skin felt hot. I hated feeling like I needed to defend myself—defend my choices. I was thirty-one fucking years old, for God’s sake. But then maybe Jack had a right to be concerned. My past choice in men hadn’t exactly been stellar.

I’d moved on from that, though.

I was moving on from men like Michael. I’d just been telling Charlie how I’d learned from my mistakes, hadn’t I?

“You’ve got to trust me, Jack,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I’m tired of second guessing myself.”

Jack’s gaze softened. “Of course I trust you. It’s him I’m leery of.”

“And I’m getting leery of this caveman act of yours,” I said firmly. “I’ll admit things are moving fast with Charlie. But he’s—Jack, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I like that he’s different. He’s like—like a shot of whiskey after a lifetime of plain water.”

Jack arched a brow. “I don’t want to encourage your attempts at poetry. But I’ve got to point out that water doesn’t burn. Whiskey, though, does.”

I picked up my pen. Dropped it on my notebook. “Maybe that’s why I like it.”

“And that’s why you need to be careful.” He sighed. “Listen. I watched you go through hell and back during your divorce, Janie. We all did. I’d just hate to see that happen again, you know?”

“I know. Don’t think I’m not terrified. But I’m telling you, Jack, Charlie is different. He gets it. Gets me—sees me in a way most men don’t. I’ve just”—I rubbed my eyes—“I’ve had this terrible fucking day, and all I can think about is seeing him again and how much better he’ll make me feel. How nice it is to have someone like that to call, you know?”

Jack looked at me. Let out another sigh.

“That does sound nice. Really bloody nice.” He tugged at the fabric of his trousers just above his knees. “All right. I still want you to keep an eye open around this guy. But if he makes you feel that way, then yeah. Call him. Hell, I wish I had somebody like that to call.”

I eyed him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you changed the subject when I asked what’s going on with you. You’ve been in a mood for weeks now.” I settled my forearms on my desk. “Talk to me.”

Jack let his head fall back a little. Bounced his fist off his knee.

“I think I’m having a Whitney Houston moment.”

I blinked. “Do you want to dance with somebody, or…?”

“No.” He scoffed. “No, it’s just—you know that new bloke they hired on my security detail?”

Each of us had three agents assigned to us for protection. One of Jack’s agents had just retired, and had been replaced with someone new.

“The really hot one?”

Jack smiled grimly. “So you noticed.”

“How could I not?” I grinned. “He looks like the fourth Hemsworth brother.”

“There’s three of them?”

“I think so. I hope so. The more the merrier.”

Jack had a shy look about him now. A blush working its way up his throat. He held his hand to his lips.

“Jane. I think I’ve got a very inconvenient crush on my bodyguard.”

My heart hiccupped. “I am so here for this. Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Jack kept picking at his trousers. “I think he’s cute. And he doesn’t know I exist.”

I furrowed my brow and stared him down. “Doesn’t know you exist? Jack, he literally puts his life on the line for you every day.”

Jack lifted his shoulder. “I know. But he’s not really friendly, yeah? He’s very serious. Very focused on the job. When I try to talk to him, he just kind of shuts me down. It’s frustrating as hell.”

“Hm.” I reached for my pen and tapped it against my chin. “Sounds like the strong, silent type. I approve.”

“Doesn’t matter. You know there are rules about this sort of thing—if they ever caught a whiff of personal involvement, he’d get sacked.”

“And you like him too much to see him go.”

Jack’s blue eyes flicked to meet mine. “Something like that.”

I offered him a grin of sympathy.

“That’s tough,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

He waved my concern away. “Don’t be. It’s just a stupid little crush anyway. I’ll get over it.” He stood. “Sorry again for the way I treated Charlie yesterday. I’ll try to be a bit more open minded about him, yeah?”

I stood up and made my way around the desk to give him a hug.

“Thank you. And good luck with your bodyguard,” I said. “If you need help writing some songs about your unrequited love, I’m happy to help. Seeing as I’m such a brilliant poet and all.”

Jack laughed. My day started to suck just a tad less.

“I appreciate that.” He gave me one last squeeze before letting me go. “And Jane?”

“Yeah?”

“No matter what happens with Charlie, I’m proud of you. For being brave enough to open up again.”

I pulled back, feigning disbelief, even as a lump rose in my throat.

“You think I’m brave?”

“You are. Probably the bravest out of all of us.” He kissed my forehead. “Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks, Jack,” I said, my voice wobbling. Shit, I was going to cry. When did I get so thin skinned? Like all my emotions had risen over the weekend to rest just beneath the surface, ready to bubble over at the slightest provocation.

I felt exposed. Raw. Not necessarily in a bad way.

Maybe I was moving on to a new life. A new time, beyond the struggle and the doubt.

Maybe I was mostly healed. Healed enough to try again, at least.

He buttoned his blazer. “Have some sex for me, would you? I’m besotted with a man who’ll only touch me if I’m in mortal danger, so…there’s no cock in my immediate future.”

I nudged him. “Hey, you can be brave, too. Brave enough to stick your neck out so Mr. Hottie has to come rescue you.”

“I’m almost that desperate,” Jack said. “Almost.”

“Good luck,” I said, laughing.

I sat back down at my desk. It was only six. Usually I worked until at least eight when I had nothing going on at night. Glancing at my inbox—how the hell had I gotten twenty new emails since I’d chatted with Jack?—I knew I’d be working late. Really late.

I liked my work. Most days I even loved it. It was important and impactful. But the thought of being chained to this desk when I could be out with Charlie made me feel like I was missing out. On real life.

I was more flattered by Jack’s compliment than I should have been. I had been through hell. I was brave to risk going back there again. But like the bets I’d placed in blackjack, maybe that was a risk worth taking.

I was safe standing on my own two feet. But I was ready for more than that.

I wanted more than that.

I also wanted some company after this awful day I’d just had. A little sexual healing could go a long ways right now.

These emails could wait.

Heart popping around in my chest, I dug my mobile out of my bag. Hovered my thumb over Cash Only’s number before I pressed down and brought the phone to my ear, heartbeat blaring in time to each ring.