Chapter Six

My mouth hung open, like a fly trap. The word was thin and reedy, hardly more than a whisper, and it was entirely different from the self-assured PR agent I usually was.

"What the…

what do you mean, 'Okay'?"Had Paul's dramatics and my assistant's sheer insolence finally caused my brain to short circuit?

The man who had just sent my ex-fiance flying like a discarded rag doll, Jett Heathrow, shrugged.

With a slight smirk on his lips, he leaned back against the doorframe and stared at me with those intense blue eyes. "Miss Jonas, you heard me.

I said, 'Okay, let's pretend to be together. You can be the 'nice and normal' woman who helps me look better."I gazed first at him and then at Eve, who was practically bouncing with anticipation in the doorway.

"What did you do, Eve?

Get in here.

"My assistant smiled, bless her eager but frequently impetuous heart. She punctuated the last sentence with a noticeable wiggle of her eyebrows, utterly unaware of the new hell she had just let loose on my life.

"I just stated the obvious, Scarlett! Its perfect!

He needs to soften his image, and you need a high profile client.

Plus, you already have… chemistry."Jett grinned more broadly.

"She's not mistaken about the chemistry."

My face was flushed, with heat creeping up to my hairline and beginning at my neck. I was hit like a linebacker by the memory of the motel room, the small bed, and the earth-shattering kiss (and the orgasms that followed).

This was Jett, Jen's brother, the man who had seen me vulnerable and completely nude, the man who had effortlessly elevated me to levels Paul could only imagine. He wanted to pretend to date me now. in public.

I shook my head and blurted, "This is insane.""Definitely, definitely insane.

I can't."

Jett interrupted, pushing off the door frame and walking in my direction, asking, "Why not?"

"You're a PR agent.

This is your job. You just said you needed a well paying client. I'm offering you that, plus a chance to prove Paul wrong. Isn't that what you want? To show him you're not 'frigid' or a 'hard ass bitch'?"Jett's voice was low, almost challenging, and I unconsciously looked down at his mouth, recalling.

He was right. An extremely compelling and enraged point. Even though I now knew that Paul's words were false, they still hurt. This was my opportunity to regain my narrative as well as land a big client. And maybe, just for show, to finally experience the kind of exciting, passionate interaction I'd always wanted.

I said, "Okay,"with an unexpected amount of determination. Even though my cheeks were still burning, I refused to back down and looked him in the eye. "All right, Mr. Heathrow, but let's establish some ground rules.

This is a professional arrangement. Strictly. No ambiguities, no sentimentality."Jett's amused blue eyes glistened. The way he said it sounded like a joke, but I chose to ignore it: "Strictly professional.

Got it."

"First,"

I went on, already slipping into public relations mode, "we need a narrative. How did we meet?

The motel story is out. No one will buy that you spent the night in a small room with a stranger due to a storm."Surprisingly intrigued, he asked

"Why not?"

"Because you're Jett Heathrow, NFL superstar

"I said with a forceful gesture. "

Your life must be credible and relatable, something that the public can support. You don't just 'happen' upon a random woman in a motel and share a room."With a hint of mischief in his eyes, he said, "I could say I crashed on your couch."I shot him a sardonic glance.

"In a one-bed motel room? Very unlikely."Eve cleared her throat. She clapped her hands together, already imagining the headlines, and said, "What if it was a mutual friend?

Like, you met through… me!"I flinched.

As my mind sorted through the typical romantic clichés employed by public relations departments, I thought, "Too convenient, Eve. And too much of a personal connection. This needs to be carefully orchestrated."

"All right, we need a meet cute' that shouts destiny with a dash of realistic spontaneity."

Jett leaned back against the doorframe and crossed his arms. "So, no attractive stranger who demands to cover your room costs?"The subtle jab went unnoticed. "Definitely not.

Here's what we'll do: You'll be presented to the media as someone I've known for a long time, a mutual friend, but not Jen. Maybe it was at a charity event I hosted or went to, where we'reconnected' and fireworks broke out."Jett remarked dryly, "A charity event I don't remember attending."

"Exactly"

I replied as a strategy began to take shape in my head. "We'll construct the story. We'll say that we've known each other in passing for years, but that we recently crossed paths again and that this time, things clicked.

We'll highlight your softer side' the side that you seem to lack but will need to develop for the cameras."With a challenge in his eyes, he raised an eyebrow. "And why do you believe that I can develop a'softer side'?"I shot back, looking him in the eye.

"Because you're a professional, Mr. Heathrow,"I said. "Are we clear that this isn't just about me gaining a client; it's about you saving your career? And so am I. If you want your image fixed, you'll follow my lead."The room was tense for a moment, a silent struggle of wills.

Then, to my astonishment, Jett laughed quietly. "Miss Jonas, you're feisty, and I like that."There was an odd flutter in my heart. This was just business, I had to remind myself. Just business.

I forced a calmness that I didn't feel and said, "Good."We're going to get started right away, so Eve, please cancel my other appointments for the remainder of the day. We need to thoroughly examine Mr. Heathrow's public image, come up with ideas for events, and write a press release.

Eve essentially gave a salute. I was left alone with Jett as she scurried off, saying, "Yes, Scarlett! This is going to be epic!"The ensuing quiet was heavy with things that could not be expressed. His presence filled the already cramped office as he pushed off the doorframe entirely and moved deeper inside.

His height, broad shoulders, and the way his muscles stretched the material of his shirt were all very noticeable to me. I had underestimated how difficult this would be. "So,"he said in a low, rumbling voice as he stopped right in front of my desk.

"Strictly professional, huh?""Absolutely,"I said, attempting to sound as unperturbed as I could. He leaned closer, and I could smell a combination of woodsy and masculine scents.

"Does that mean no more kisses that break the earth?"My breath caught. My meticulously crafted professional façade was on the verge of disintegrating. Now more than ever, I had to keep control. That's exactly what's strictly professional' means, Mr. Heathrow, I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite my heartbeat.

He looked at me for a long time, evaluating me, and then a slow, barely noticeable smile appeared on his lips. "Miss Jonas, we'll see about that."He then turned, located a chair that appeared to creak under his massive frame, and took a seat, prepared for our first "professional"meeting.

This was going to be anything but strictly professional, and I knew it with a certainty that made my bones tingle. Alright, excellent! Let's go on.