I was currently reading the third book in the Maxwell Swan series by Lincoln Bass. Surprisingly, they were quite good, and I adored his writing style. Horror had always been my favorite genre, but his books were changing my mind. Easy to understand and exciting, they kept me interested. And the sexual tension between him and his love interest, Suzanne Sweet, was explosive. Not focused on the illusion of real love, but more on sex and humorous banter. Those scenes were definitely battery worthy. More so after viewing the photograph of the author on the back of the book.
Lincoln didn’t have his brother’s coloring. While Lucas was fair-haired, I presumed Lincoln had inherited the darker hair and skin from his mother. It was obvious he spent a great deal of time outdoors because, in the photo, he wore a wetsuit and held a spear gun. Not bodybuilder big, but a frame that appeared lean, with dense muscle and abs that went on for days. He was quite beautiful. Athletic with defined features. He definitely displayed his Polynesian heritage, because the olive skin tone was much darker than a tan. The combination of that picture and the adult content in his books made for a satisfying night. Now that I had read him and seen what he looked like, it made me even more liable to become his aid.
Him being blind was a plus.
I shook my head with a cringe. Even in my mind, that sounded horrible. What kind of human being was I that I didn’t truly have sympathy for this man and his plight? The truth was I got tired of people judging me on my appearance. I rarely saw disgust; I witnessed pity. Whoever I encountered felt sorry for me, but none more than myself.
This would be the first time in years I would be in the same room with a gorgeous man and not be critiqued. I had to admit I was tired of being enslaved to my estate and private beach. Yes, I had all the amenities anyone could ask for, but I yearned to feel normal. To pretend I was still beautiful. Here was my chance. I could walk around freely, and Lincoln Bass would never be the wiser. I would just be a feminine voice sent to aid him. But he’d never truly understand the assistance would go both ways.
As much as he might need me, the truth was loneliness had entombed me. I’d only come alive one time in my wretched past, and that was when I’d allowed an intoxicated man to make love to me on the beach.
Love. I almost laughed. We had sex. Fucked. And even though it fulfilled me during those fleeting moments, it only made me yearn for things I could never have.
*****
During our next session, I let Lucas know I would attempt working for his brother. He expressed I could do a trial period, and if it became too much, I should stop.
“As much as I love my little brother, he’s known to be rather obsessed when it comes to his writing, and the fact is, since his accident, his temperament is less than cordial. He’s become rather a prick.” Dr. Bass half smiled.
I chuckled, rolling my eyes. “You’ve never worked in fashion. I spent over twenty years in the industry. Trust me; I’m used to dealing with pricks bigger than your brother. That profession seems to have an abundance of them. And if I could live a couple years with my ex-husband, the king of douchebags, I’m sure I can weather the time with your brother.”
He stood, removing his glasses, then rubbing his eyes. “I do not want to jeopardize any progress we’ve made, so if this becomes too much, you need to be honest and tell me. Even though we won’t be discussing your time with Lincoln during our sessions, I need you to be candid about your feelings if you become overwhelmed. If I conclude my idea wasn’t good, I will remove you from the situation.”
“You won’t have to remove me or even ask. I’ll walk away on my own. This will be the first time since my incident I’m going to interact with a stranger on a daily basis. I’m doing this because I want to step out of my comfort zone.”
“Bullshit, Jensyn,” Dr. Bass blurted. “My brother’s blind. You’ll be able to connect with someone who can’t judge you. Just remember. He’ll be evaluating you on your personality. You won’t be able to fall back on your looks if he ends up not liking you.” He laughed.
“I’m prepared. I’ve even read some of his books. They aren’t as bad as I thought. I’m not promising fabulous typing skills, though.”
“If I’m being honest here, your typing technique isn’t why I asked you to do this. I just need you to read his work. Jensyn, you know what it’s like to lose everything. I’m worried if he doesn’t find the strength to adapt, he’ll—”
I stopped him with a wave of my hand. “That he’ll end up like me. A bitter, pitiful, semi- agoraphobic?” I whispered, lowering my eyes. “Then why are you even bothering? You expect me to become some Good Samaritan and save your brother. Jesus, I can’t even salvage what’s left of me, Lucas. Maybe I’m not who you want. I’m sure you have tons of other people who would help you.”
He stood above my chair with both hands resting on the back. “Oh, Jensyn, I couldn’t have asked a more qualified person. You both need each other. Lincoln will give you something I can’t. He’ll prove to you that the person you are inside is far more valuable than your outward appearance. I truly believe you’ll be able to hold your own. That anger you have deep within will come in handy to keep my brother focused. I’m warning you, though. He will try his best to push you away, and he’ll make it seem as though it was of your own accord. Lincoln has turned into a petulant child.”
“Then I suppose a spanking will be in order.”
A deep rumbling of laughter came from him as he shook his head. “I think you need to read more about him than just his books to know what you’re truly up against. I believe an internet search is in order. Lincoln has a rather salacious reputation with the ladies,” he explained uncomfortably. “Just Google him. Then you’ll understand.”
I huffed. “So he’s a manwhore. So was my husband and ninety percent of the models I worked with. Hell, most of the photographers, too. As long as he keeps his hands to himself, we’ll do just fine. Otherwise, there’s a good chance he’ll also lose the ability to father children.”
“Are you threatening my brother’s family jewels?” he asked, snorting. “I like you, Jensyn. You’re my kind of gal.” He grabbed a notepad as he sat down. “Now let’s start your session. I think you’re more than prepared to deal with my brother.”
When I got back to my home, I decided take Dr. Bass’s advice and Google his brother. Oh boy. My eyes darted between gossip and photos. The man had many public affairs, including one with his editor. The photograph on the book jacket didn’t compare to his actual appearance. To say he was a perfect 10 would have been an understatement. I was torn between him wearing a wetsuit or a tux. Both were sexy as hell. Between his physique and that smile, I could see why he had so many women readers. You could tell from the snapshots of his signings that the ratio was no less than eighty percent female.
He was only twenty-five years old. My admiration for his body came to an abrupt halt as I realized the age difference. In five years, he had risen to success with this Maxwell Swan series. He was wealthy, talented, attractive, and notorious.
I felt my heartbeat grow faster as I paused on a photograph. It was the same one he’d used for the back of his books, but it was a close-up. My finger trembled as I outlined his figure on the screen. He could have modeled. He was a pristine work of art, chiseled in all the right places. Even his wetsuit left nothing to the imagination, though I wondered how many scrutinized this image as I was. He was stunning, but it was his eyes that captivated me. What color were they? Even the internet seemed in debate. Some speculated green, others blue.
I closed my tablet because staring at him wasn’t helping; it was actually increasing my anxiety level. I had to keep reminding myself the man was blind. He wouldn’t be able to see my imperfections.
So tomorrow was the day. In my prime, I would’ve been considering twenty different outfits, wanting my makeup and hair perfect. But this was an easy one. I could wear tattered jeans and a T-shirt with holes and he wouldn’t ever know. However, that wasn’t my style. It wasn’t as though Lincoln Bass was the blind fashion police. What if he had guests over? Now I was psyching myself out. Lucas was adamant, saying his brother never left the property or even socialized anymore. Therefore, it was safe.
“Miss Jensyn, is there anything you want special for breakfast tomorrow?” Anai asked, her eyes scanning my tablet.
I stretched my legs along the daybed in the sunroom, answering her with a yawn. “No, I’ll probably just have coffee. I’ll be gone most of the day tomorrow. But if you go out to the farmer’s market, can you pick me up the next few books in that Maxwell series?”
She didn’t laugh, but her eyes twinkled. “So you enjoyed those? I knew you would. That author, he’s very talented, and Maxwell Swan is so sexy.”
I brought my knees up to my chin as I prepared to go to my room. I wasn’t going to have a tête-à-tête with my housekeeper, no matter how close we were. “I’m going to bed now.”
“Make sure you take Mr. Swan with you,” she quipped.
I walked away with my tablet under my arm, wondering what tomorrow would bring. I hoped meeting Lincoln Bass was going to be exciting. This would be like getting close and personal with your favorite rock star. Of course, I’d met many famous people during my fashion career. All of that seemed a lifetime ago, a life that had belonged to someone else.