The next morning, Jackson got out of bed while Meghan was still sleeping. He showered and dressed, then took a cup of coffee into the bedroom.

Meghan had the blankets pulled right up, so he could see only the soft curve of her cheek and her tightly-closed eyes. Her dreadlocks were splayed out over the pillow. They’d spent all night discovering how best to pleasure each other. He’d have thought his urge to possess her would be fading by now, but it was stronger than ever. He had an overpowering urge to forget today’s conference schedule and get back into bed.

When he put the cup of coffee on her bedside table, her eyes cracked open. “Morning.” Her voice had even more rasp in it than he was used to. “You’re up early.”

He bent to kiss her. She was warm, blinking sleepily. Cute and sexy at the same time, especially because he knew all too well how temptingly naked she was under the covers.

“It’s not as early as you think,” he told her.

“You’re dressed already? So you’re not coming back to bed?”

“I have to work.” It took an effort to straighten. Sometimes when she came, her cries were almost musical, and last night they’d joked about releasing a record of those particular songs. He badly wanted to lay down another track. “I’ve arranged for a friend to keep you company while I’m out today. You said you were lonely with me gone.”

Her brow creased. “I said I was lonely because I was trying to convince you to stay home with me. But I don’t need a babysitter.” Then she sat up a little. “Don’t tell me you still don’t trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“You really have to go again today?” She sat up a little more and let the bedcovers drop. The sight of her gorgeous breasts peeping out into the morning sunlight made his throat tight. And his pants.

“You have my number, so call if you need me. But I’ll be busy, so don’t call unless it’s important.”

“When will you be back?”

“Earliest I can make it is around five. We have a dinner to go to at six. Tell the stylist it’s a banquet for around thirty people on a private yacht in the harbor. She’ll know how formal you need to be.”

“You’re not even going to stay for breakfast?”

“Busy, remember. Selina will make you whatever you want to eat.” He gave her one last look, filling his senses with her beauty in the same way as he’d down a cold drink after a hard run. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Jackson was in the middle of a technical conversation about bandwidth capabilities with a U.S. data provider, when his cellphone buzzed with an SMS message. It was from Meghan.

I can’t believe it. You’re amazing. x

He typed a quick reply.

I’m glad your babysitter has arrived. P.S. Don’t use this number unless it’s important.

A few moments later, his phone buzzed again.

Telling you how amazing you are is important. xxx

Jackson couldn’t hold back his smile. He went back to his conversation with the data provider, but it was hard to concentrate on what the man was saying. He kept imagining how Meghan must have reacted to the surprise he’d organized for her. And picturing her delight somehow led to other pictures. Ones from last night, when he’d delighted her over and over again.

It got so bad that he cut his last meeting of the day short so he could head home early. He didn’t bother to check to see if Meghan was somewhere else in the house, but went straight down to the recording studio.

When he opened the door, Meghan and Ellie Dray were singing together, their distinctive voices in perfect harmony. They complemented each other perfectly. Singing separately they were remarkable, but when their voices joined, the sound was a direct line to heaven.

He went in as quietly as possible, hoping to be able to watch and listen before they knew he was there. But Meghan spotted him and broke off. “Jackson.” She tore her headphones off, dropped her guitar, and ran to kiss him. “Oh my God. I can’t believe you asked Ellie to spend the day with me.”

“I still owe you a favor, Jackson,” said Ellie. “This doesn’t count as repayment. I’ve been having too much fun.”

“I wrote a song, and it’s good. I’ll play it for you. I came up with it in the limo last night, and Ellie’s been working on it with me.” Meghan looped her arm around Jackson’s waist. A common enough gesture, he supposed, but Jackson was a little taken aback. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so casually affectionate with him.

“It’s a great song.” Ellie put down her guitar and came out of the booth. “You’re the real deal, Meghan.”

Meghan’s cheeks were flushed. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

Jackson put his arm around Meghan’s shoulders, fighting the urge to drop his face to her neck and inhale her scent.

“Anyway, I’d better leave you two lovebirds to it.” Ellie dropped them a wink as she went past. “Let me know when you want to do this again, Meghan.”

“Really? I’d love to. Anytime.”

As soon as the door closed behind Ellie, Jackson had Meghan’s mouth under his. Had it been only eight hours since he’d last kissed her? It felt like much longer, because he’d been anticipating this moment all day.

She tasted even better than he remembered, and the passion in her kiss told him she must have been looking forward to it too. He felt her tug at his tie, then it loosened. Without breaking their kiss, she managed to work it right off.

He took the hem of her T-shirt and lifted it. They had to separate so he could tug it over her head. Then their mouths came back together like even an instant apart had been too long.

He snapped off her bra and it slid off and dropped. Her jeans were next, and he pushed them down her thighs.

“You don’t want to go to the bedroom?” she asked, her breath coming fast. Even as she spoke, she was working at his shirt buttons.

Instead of answering, he bent his head to kiss down her throat. Last night he’d discovered the line of musical notes tattooed across her breast bone, and they’d become his favorite of all her tattoos. Now he took a moment to admire them before moving his mouth down.

Arching her back, she ran her hands through his hair while he teased her hard nipples with his tongue and teeth. Every sound of pleasure from her lips made him even harder. He wanted to hear more, to coax from her that husky cry he’d heard so many times last night. Just thinking about the way she sounded when she came made his balls ache.

The mixing desk was right behind her, and it was about the right height. He put both hands around her waist and lifted her onto the smooth side panel, which was the only part of the missing desk that didn’t have any knobs or sliders.

“I’ll break it,” she protested.

But the sight of her propped up on it wearing just a pair of white panties was so damn fine, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the mixing desk. Her panties were sopping wet and partly transparent, clinging to her like a second skin. When she spread her thighs, he wanted to explode. It had to be the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

He ran his hand up her thigh and found her clit with his thumb. Then he leaned in to swallow her gasp in his kiss. As sexy as they looked, her panties would have to come off. He needed to devour her. To own her.

Dropping to one knee, he put his mouth between her legs and sucked her through the thin fabric.

“Oh, God.” Her fists clutched the edge of the mixing desk, and her knuckles whitened.

Impatiently, he tugged her panties down, and she lifted one leg, then the other, so he could work them off. Better. Now he could lick her all over and fill his mouth with her juices. Now he could slide his finger inside her.

In response, she spread her legs wider and leaned back. There was a click and a whir, and the room filled with two soaring voices. Some part of her body must have hit the playback controls, because a recording of her and Ellie singing was suddenly coming through the speakers.

“Whoops,” she gasped. She scrabbled for the button she’d hit, and only succeeded in making it louder.

He chuckled, enjoying the soundtrack. Her voice always had turned him on. “You said you were going to play your new song for me.”

“Not like this.”

She tried a slider, and the song sped up. Now it was playing much faster than it should be, and the women’s voices sounded high and squeaky. “Crap.”

He gave another little laugh and went back to what he’d been doing. “Oh God,” she gasped. “I can’t. Not to this.”

“You want to change the song?”

Her only answer was a moan. She leaned right back so she was all but lying on the desk. The song sped up even further, so at least now it was unrecognizable. He couldn’t help but laugh, and when his breath gusted against her, she cried out. The song ended, and her deep, loud moans were the perfect finale. Finally, she gave one last shudder and lay still.

He rose to his feet, his cock throbbing so hard it was painful. Her legs were still spread, and he wanted to take her where she was on the mixing desk, but he didn’t want to worry about hurting her. Lying back like that, she must have dials and switches digging into her skin.

He helped her down instead. “Ready to sing another song?”

In answer, she pushed his unbuttoned shirt all the way off and ran her hands down his bare torso. He loved the hunger in her eyes as much as he loved her hard, pretty nipples, the cascade of stars down her arm, and the sparkling gem in her belly button.

Her hands went to the button of his pants, and he dug a condom out of his pocket before she could get them off.

“Turn around.” His voice came out hoarse, his need for her so strong that every muscle in his body was stretched tight and hard.

She did as he asked, leaning her back against his front and reaching back to fondle him. He stroked her naked torso with the hand not holding the condom. His cock jutted against the small of her back until he bent his knees to rub it across her gorgeous little ass. Fuck, she felt incredible. His balls were close to bursting.

He wanted to be inside her. But having the length of her body pressed against his was a sweet agony he didn’t want to rush. Her dreadlocks reached halfway down her back, and the way the fine ropes dangled against her skin looked incredibly sexy. Fisting one hand in them, he pulled her head back so he could kiss her neck.

Her lips parted, and she let out a breathy moan. “I want you.” Her husky voice made his cock jerk and his balls tighten even harder.

Enough foreplay.

He ripped the condom open and rolled it on, then leaned her forward and fumbled his hard length into place. With one hard push, he slid deep inside her.

“Oh.” She grabbed the edge of the mixing desk as he thrust all the way in, gripping her hips to pull her against him. She tilted her head back, and her dreadlocks swayed back and forth in time to his rhythm.

His orgasm was close, and he ached to empty himself into her. One problem. Reaching around to stroke her would be awkward at this angle, and he wanted to make her come at least once more before he let himself go. If she stroked herself, it wouldn’t be enough. He needed to be the source of her pleasure. To watch her face as she moaned. To tug her cries from her throat with his own fingers, and see her lost in an orgasm he controlled.

Reluctantly, he drew out.

“On the couch,” he said, when she turned to face him. “Sit on me.” He moved them to it and sat, pulling her onto his lap. Now he could lick and kiss from her throat to her breasts. And his fingers were free to roam and tease her with gentle strokes.

She ground down on his hand and cock. Her light blue eyes gazed into his, beautifully clear, like two shimmering pools of ice. They were eyes he’d dreamed of a million times, and they’d haunted him for years after he’d left.

He’d always wanted her. Wanted this. And it was better than he could ever have imagined. So many people in his life had betrayed him, but she never had. She never would. The knowledge was a salve to heal his heart. It made everything right. A world where she existed, where she loved him, was a world where he didn’t have to build so many walls.

He froze. A world where she loved him? What the hell was he thinking?

“What’s wrong?” She paused her movements, her forehead furrowed.

Fuck. He’d been so caught up in crazy speculation, he’d broken their rhythm. “Nothing.” He put his hands around her waist to push her down onto him. “Don’t stop.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Were you thinking about something else?”

“Of course not.” There was only one way to stop her questions, and that was by leaning forward and kissing her. He could lose himself in the way she tasted and the feel of her lips against his.

When their kiss broke off, it was only so she could move again, small moans and pants forcing themselves from her throat. Her hands kneaded his chest, her fingernails digging in, and he could tell she wasn’t aware of scratching him. Her entire focus was on the sensation she was feeling and the orgasm that was about to overtake her.

Sure enough, she threw her head back and let out a loud cry. She clenched around his cock, and he felt his own orgasm barrel into him. It was an unstoppable force, and he went with it, grabbing her hips to pull her down hard. Fuck, she was beautiful. Watching her ride him while she cried out with pleasure sent him soaring into the stratosphere. His release wasn’t a regular orgasm; it was a ten-kiloton explosion that started in his balls and shuddered through every cell in his body.

Finally she collapsed onto him, and he put his arms around her, hugging her tight. He felt so light he could have been floating. It was as though his body had detached from his mind. There was no chatter in his brain. No noise, or even thought. Just a bone-deep, blissed-out feeling. A feeling that made him want to stay here like this forever.

“You were thinking about something else,” she murmured. Her mouth was close to his ear and her husky tone seemed to be wired into his central nervous system, because he felt another surge of arousal.

“Nothing important.” He stroked up her bare back, then brushed some of her dreadlocks back from her face, running his hand down the thin cords of hair. Although they looked like they’d be rough to the touch, they kept surprising him with how silky they felt. And he liked the solidity of them, the way they swayed when she moved.

“These have definitely grown on me,” he murmured.

She leaned back so she could see his face. “My ex-boyfriend didn’t like them. He said they’d make it harder for me to get a job.” She tossed a few strands back from her face, and the rest swung around her torso, playing peekaboo with her nipples. “But I wanted to make it harder to get a regular job. That meant I’d be less tempted to give up my dream of being a singer.” Her lips twitched up. “I can be stubborn.”

“Stubborn is good.”

“Except if he turns out to be right. If I can’t get a singing job, I’ll have to find something else.”

He touched her face, running his thumb gently across her full bottom lip. Did she have any idea how sexy her mouth was? “You were born to be a singer. Designed that way.”

Her smile was bright enough to heat the space inside his chest. “My new song is the best thing I’ve ever written.”

“I heard some of it.” He couldn’t help but think of the song he wrote all those years ago. Funny, he could remember the lyrics so clearly, but the tune? No, it was gone. Although it didn’t feel too far under the surface. If he thought hard enough, it would come back to him. All these years, he hadn’t wanted to remember it.

“You didn’t hear the song properly,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want to play guitar with me? It’ll be just like old times. I’ll show you how it goes.”

He shook his head. “I haven’t played in years.”

“Why not? You have two really nice, expensive guitars just over here. Aren’t you even a little bit tempted?”

He moved her off him so he could get rid of the condom. After taking it to the bathroom, he came back and lay on the couch, pulling her onto him so they were nestled, naked, in the cushions. Her slight weight on him felt good, and her fingers running up and down his chest felt even better. He stroked her hair out of the way so he could press his lips to her forehead. He liked breathing against her skin, filling his lungs with her.

“You won’t tell me why you don’t want to play the guitar,” she murmured. “Has it got something to do with the reason you didn’t show up that night? The reason you left?”

She lifted her face to his, and her eyes were so blue, he wanted to dive into them. If his entire body wasn’t radiating contentment, he wouldn’t be able to answer. But right now, he had an overwhelming desire to open his heart and tell her everything.

“You remember what my father was like?” he asked. “He always used to tell me I should be more like Peter, good at sports. He thought math and science were for nerds, and music was a waste of time.”

“I hated your father.” She dropped her eyes, as though ashamed to say that out loud. “He was mean.”

“I didn’t much like him either. But I still loved him. Loved them both, him and Peter. Thing was, I believed everything Dad told me about my brother. About how talented and clever Peter was, and how he was so much better than I was.”

“Peter was an jerk.” She snuggled down so her head was under his chin and he could rest his cheek on her hair.

“He was that night.” Jackson closed his eyes. All these years, he’d pushed the memory as deep as he could, and now he was letting it float to the surface. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. Time had blunted the knife. “Peter had found a song I’d written and was taunting me for it, like most brothers would, I guess.”

“You wrote a song?”

“Not just any song. It was a love song. Or rather, it was about how my heart was all twisted up. I was crushing on a girl I could never have, because she loved my brother instead.” He opened his eyes, steeling himself for her reaction. “It was about you.”

Her head jerked up. “What? I never loved your brother. The opposite.”

“Of course you didn’t. I just assumed you must have, because of who Peter was.” He breathed out slowly. Now the memory was starting to hurt. The blade still had an edge after all. “He was the good brother, remember? The loveable brother. If you didn’t fall for him, then what chance would I have?”

“Oh no.” Her voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kissed her creased forehead. “It was a long time ago, and we were young. That stuff all made sense at the time.”

“You’ve always been a hundred times nicer than your brother. And smarter. And a lot less of an jerk.”

He chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

She dropped her head back onto his chest. “What happened after Peter started teasing you?”

“My father overheard. He wasn’t impressed by my song writing abilities, and we had our worst fight yet.”

“A physical fight?”

“It always got physical with him. But that was the first time I fought back for real.”

“What happened?”

Jackson dropped his nose to her hair so he could breathe her in. “I guess you could say I won the fight. But I hated it. Punching him was the most sickening thing I’d ever done.” He swallowed, remembering the feeling of his father’s jaw cracking under his fist. “And my father threw me out. He told me never to come back. I got in my van and was going to drive around until I felt better, then go to a friend’s place. But I found myself on the Pacific Highway heading up the coast, and didn’t want to stop. Tell you the truth, I didn’t even remember about our gig until I’d been driving a couple of hours, and by then, it was way too late.”

“You should have called me.”

“I should have. But you were the girl I could never have. I wanted to put you out of my mind. To leave you and my old life far behind.”

“Is that why you won’t pick up a guitar?”

He didn’t answer out loud. He didn’t need to.

She was silent for a long time as well. Her breaths were long and deep, but still faster than his. He reached around her back to touch the knuckles of his right hand, to feel where the skin had split when he’d punched his father.

He hadn’t thought about it in a while, and the memory wasn’t a good one. It made him feel edgy, like her weight on him was a responsibility he didn’t want. But he shouldn’t overreact, just because some bad memories had come back to the surface. His arrangement with Meghan was purely financial, and after tonight it would be over. In the meantime, he should relax and enjoy it.

Her fingers lightly tapped against his chest, and he dragged in a deep breath, pushing bad thoughts away. Could he tell what song was in her head by the rhythm of her fingers? It had to be something to do with him having left.

“Hit The Road Jack,” he guessed out loud.

She knew immediately what he was talking about. “Fast Car,” she said with a smile. “Tracy Chapman. You weren’t even close.”

“Want to know what song’s in my head?” He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the sweet warmth of her skin.

“Something by Barry White? I’m Gonna Love You Just A Little More, Baby?” She let her hand drift south.

She was joking, but he happened to know the words to that song, and Barry White repeated ‘I love you’ a lot. Wasn’t there even a line about falling deeper and deeper in love? That’s not what this was, and he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

“We’ll have to pick this up later,” he said, stopping her hand from roving any lower. “We’ll have to leave soon, and I need to shower.”

“Okay.” She got to her feet with a sigh. “Dinner on a yacht, right? Hope I don’t get seasick.”

He watched her bend to pick up her clothes, even more beautiful now than she’d been when they were teenagers. If his eighteen-year-old self could see her, he would never have gotten in that van and driven to Brisbane.

But Jackson was a different person now. His wealth had made him different. It was dangerous to let himself get swept away by the past, when everything had changed so much.

“Meghan.” When she turned to him, her guileless blue eyes the same color as the gem in her belly button, he had to steel himself to go on. “I just confessed I used to have a crush on you. But things were simpler back then. You’re still very special to me, that hasn’t changed. What has changed is how complicated my life is. You’re an incredible woman and you deserve all the things that I’m not sure I can give you. As much as I like you, I can’t afford to make promises beyond our original agreement.”

Her expression crumpled, her lips flattening and the light in her eyes dimming, before she looked away. “Of course.” She turned her back to him to put on her bra.

He bit the inside of his cheek, tempted to soften his words. To somehow explain the unexplainable, and make her understand why he needed to enforce his boundaries. But she’d never get it. She had no idea how proximity to a large sum of money had so much power to corrupt.

Difficult as it was, this was the way it had to be.