Conquer Your Love

“Went on a date.” Kenny grinned.



I blinked because the answer was so obvious and yet I had to ask. “A date? With whom?”



“A blond girl—Sylvie,” Kenny said.



Sylvie went on a date with him and didn’t tell me? “Where is she?” I asked.



“She told me she couldn’t use the front door, because someone was home, so I walked her around the house. I had no clue you guys were in there. I thought she was living with her parents.” Kenny seemed like a nice guy. Friendly. Good manners. Definitely not how I pictured him at all. And he was Jett’s friend. I found myself warming up to him.



“Do you want to come in?” I asked. “We were about to eat but there’s enough food and drink for everyone.”



Jett raised his brow. I shrugged and smiled at Kenny in the hope he’d accept my invitation because I wanted to get to know Jett’s friends. I wanted to know everything about him.



“Thanks,” Kenny said.



We switched on the lights in the hall and were halfway to the kitchen when I spied Sylvie through the open living room door. At the sight of Kenny, she smiled and opened her mouth to explain. I cut her off.



“Yeah, I know. He told us already. Turns out he and Jett are friends.”



“How long have you been involved?” Jett asked.



Sylvie’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do I look like I’m crazy and participating in a sect?”



“It’s a club,” I said. “And I think Jett was asking about Kenny and you.”



Jett turned his head back to me, mild annoyance shimmering in his eyes. “I told you not to tell anybody.”



“She didn’t,” Sylvie said. “I’m just psychic.”



I laughed at her sarcasm. My laughter died in my throat at Jett’s glare. “We’ve been best friends forever. She’d never betray my trust.”



Sylvie’s chin shot up and her eyes sparkled with pride. “That’s true. I’m the most trustworthy person in the world. Your secret’s safe with me—even safer than with the CIA and I’ve heard they keep secrets pretty well.”



“Right,” Jett muttered.



We were in the kitchen when Kenny said to Jett, “You pulled out a fucking gun on me. Were you trying to impress her, man?”



“No need to. Done that already.” Jett grinned and winked at me.



Earth swallow me up whole!



“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you guys,” Sylvie whispered.



“You didn’t.”



I forced a smile to my face and prayed she would mistake my blush for the beginning of sunburn. If she had entered the house a few minutes earlier, she would have caught us in the middle of an intimate sex act.



“We were busy with cooking. Right, Brooke?” Jett said. “I was teaching her how to prepare meat.”



Kenny let out a low chuckle.



“Aw, that’s nice,” Sylvie said, oblivious to the shame burning inside me at Jett’s double meaning and the way his hand rested possessively on my ass like it belonged there.



Chapter 22



I woke up to the chirping of birds. The sun was shining, bathing the bedroom in a golden glow. Jett’s side of the bed was empty but he had left a note on the nightstand.



I’ll be back around 4. Stay in and keep your phone switched on! And thanks for dessert. It was THE best. Jett x.



Dessert. In that instant my mind transported me back in time to our love making, and I felt my cheeks heating up from the memory of him kissing me so deeply I forgot the world around me. I couldn’t wait for more of that.



After a quick shower, I put on clean clothes and then checked in on Sylvie. She was asleep, her long legs tangled in the sheet.



I sat down on the bed not so gingerly and pulled the sheet aside the way she always did when she woke me up.



“Hey,” I said. “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”



Groaning, she squinted and pulled the sheet out of my hand and over her head.



“Give me five minutes? I’m so tired.”



“Sure. I’ll be in the kitchen.” I tickled her feet and she screamed, pulling away.



“Go away, Brooke.”



Laughing, I left because Sylvie had a short temper and it was only a matter of time before she threw a pillow at me.



I opened the back door to let in fresh air, and brewed a pot of coffee. Sitting outside on the porch overlooking the woods, I sighed with pleasure as my mind began to rewind last night’s firsts: first sex in the kitchen, first time meeting a friend of Jett’s, our first dinner with friends. I almost squealed with delight at the realization that our relationship was developing beyond our bedroom. But what made my heart melt, and not because of the warm morning sun, was the fact that Jett had introduced me as ‘his girl.’ That was the most important milestone to date.



Half an hour later, just as I was about to get my second coffee fix for the day, Sylvie made her grand entrance, her usually perfect hair a big tousled mess.



“What?” She glared at my suppressed smile.



“Looks like you had a roll in the hay with Kenny.”



“Rolling’s not the only thing we did.” She pointed to an empty wine bottle on the kitchen counter. “We helped ourselves from your future wine cellar and drank the whole thing in the pool.”



My brows shot up. “At four a.m.?”



“I’m an early bird.” She sat down at the kitchen table and hugged her naked knees to her chest. I pushed my mug of coffee into her hands the way she had done many times.



“Sounds like you had fun,” I said.



“We did, right before your guy demanded that Kenny accompany him to god knows where and I went to bed.” She took a big gulp out of my coffee and sighed with pleasure. “So what do you think of him?”



“Who? Kenny?”



She nodded.



Hesitating, I considered my words. She had never asked me about my opinion before. The sudden interest unnerved me, not least because I didn’t know Kenny and had no idea what Sylvie wanted to hear. Jett had introduced Kenny as a computer expert and one of his oldest friends from ‘earlier days’, so I could only guess they went through a lot together. Jett had turned his life around. Maybe Kenny did the same. At this point, I didn’t want to come across as judgmental or overly enthusiastic, but I didn’t want to see Sylvie hurt either.



“He’s hot.” I met her eager gaze and realized she was hanging on my every word. Damn. “I think that even though he looks like a bad boy, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’d ever let you down.”



“Really?” Her blue eyes sparkled with delight, as though I had just confirmed her own thoughts.



I nodded and decided to change the subject. “Do you know where the guys are?”



“They didn’t say.” She tied her long blond hair at the nape of her neck and took another sip of coffee.



“It was a long night for you, huh?” I laughed at her expression as she lifted a hand to high-five me. Her eyes were a rich shade of baby blue—the kind of eyes that fooled you into thinking she was innocent, when in reality all she wanted was having fun.



“Want more coffee?” I asked.



“I’d rather have breakfast. I’m starving.”



I opened a cupboard and retrieved a box of cereals when my cellphone rang. I checked the caller ID, remembering Jett’s instructions not to respond to any calls—not even from Alessandro’s lawyer.



“It’s Clarkson!” I said to Sylvie. We watched the phone ring a few times and then it stopped and a text appeared announcing that I had a voice message. I pressed the phone to my ear and listened.



“Good morning, Brooke. It’s Ken Clarkson. I hope I’m not intruding. I’m sorry to inform you that Mr. Lucazzone suffered from a stroke last night. He’s in a coma and the doctors cannot confirm that he’ll make it. As your attorney, I will keep you up to date. Thank you, and if there is anything you need, please let me know.”



His voice was polite but straightforward, almost unaffected. It was hard to believe that he was relaying bad news.



“What did he want?” Sylvie filled two bowls with cereals, poured milk on top, and then placed one in front of me. I watched the cocoa rings dye the milk a chocolaty color.



“Alessandro had a stroke and the doctors don’t know whether he’ll ever wake up.”



“I’m sorry, Brooke.” She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight.



I took a deep breath, forcing my mind to stay rational. I wasn’t attached to Alessandro, but I couldn’t shake off the sadness at hearing he might not make it. Even though we weren’t related by blood, he was a family member after all. Until we had concrete proof of his actions and intentions, I didn’t want to see him as a bad person.



“I hope he’ll be okay,” I said.



We ate in silence and cleaned our bowls when Sylvie said, “I feel sick,” and bolted out the door. I followed her into the bathroom and gathered her long hair at the nape of her neck as she emptied the contents of her stomach in the toilet.



“Are you okay?” I asked, stroking her back. She nodded. Frowning, I helped her up and re-arranged her clothes.



“I’m fine,” she said weakly.



“Maybe the wine was too old.” I had never seen her sick before and it was the most plausible explanation. Either that, or the hot weather and lack of sleep were catching up with her.



She held her hands under the cold-water faucet and moistened her face. “Actually this was the third time. I was sick the last two days.”



I passed her a towel. “Why didn’t you tell me before? You need to see a doctor.”



“I don’t think I need to.” She met my gaze. “My period’s eight days late.”



“You think you’re—” I couldn’t even finish that word.



“Yeah, I think I’m pregnant.” She sat down on the cold bathroom tiles and pressed her back against the wall, her face buried in her palms. A pregnancy was one of her worst nightmares. The few times we talked about marriage and children, she had been adamant she never wanted any of those, which is why she always insisted on protection.



I squatted down in front of her, and grabbed her hands. “Are you sure?”



“No. Obviously, I’m not.”



“Let’s get a pregnancy test.”



“What, now?”



“Yeah, now.” I pulled her to her feet and squeezed my arm around her waist in case her nausea returned. Even though Jett instructed me to stay in, my best friend’s peace of mind was a priority. “We get the test. No shopping. No other delays. And no telling Jett we were gone.”



She smiled. “Sure.”



***



On the way to Bellagio, I held Sylvie’s hands to comfort her.



“As long as we haven’t seen the test results, there’s no need to worry,” I whispered. “It could be stomach flu or food poisoning.”



“My period’s always on time,” she whispered back, ignoring my plausible explanations.



“Aren’t you on the birth control pill?” I asked. We both were. She nodded. “Then you’re okay. Trust me.” I could only hope I wasn’t overly positive, but the chance of a pregnancy was so minimal, I didn’t see the sense in reinforcing her worries. “You cannot possibly fall pregnant within a few hours.”