Jaded

Chapter Four

The bathroom door opened with a soft click. A cloud of steam drifted into the suite first. Then Jade emerged.

The oversized shirt she had worn earlier was gone, replaced with a short skirt and halter top with a low neckline, she had dug from her duffel bag. Her damp blonde hair fell over her shoulders in loose waves, darker now from the shower. The color brought out the pale green of her eyes, though they still carried the faint heaviness of a woman recovering from a very long night and a very questionable amount of alcohol.

For the first time all morning, she looked herself again.

Not entirely.

But close enough.

The scent of her shampoo reached Luca before she did.

Something floral.

Clean.

Fresh.

It immediately erased the lingering smell of cigarette smoke she had been carrying around earlier. Luca regretted noticing. Unfortunately, his brain seemed determined to notice everything.

Jade slowed as she entered the sitting area. The breakfast cart immediately caught her attention. Her eyes widened. "Jesus Christ."

Luca opened his eyes. "What?"

"There is enough food here to feed a football team."

A corner of his mouth twitched.

Good.

She was smiling.

That was better than watching her look half-dead.

"You were one bad decision away from needing hospitalization."

She snorted. "That dramatic?"

"You drank enough whiskey to kill a horse."

Jade pulled out a chair and dropped into it. The movement was considerably steadier than before. "That's probably fair." She reached immediately for the orange juice.

Luca watched her pour a glass.

Then another.

Then drain the first one in a single pull. Her eyes closed. A small sound of approval escaped her. "Okay." She pointed at the glass. "That might actually be the best orange juice I've ever had."

"You're hungover."

"Still counts."

Luca shook his head and sat across from her.

The table settled into silence.

Comfortable silence.

The kind they had always shared.

Jade reached for a piece of toast.

Luca poured himself coffee.

Outside the windows, traffic continued flowing through the city below. Sunlight reflected off neighboring skyscrapers, flooding the suite with warm gold light.

For several minutes neither of them spoke.

Then Jade noticed it.

The quiet.

Not the normal kind.

The strange kind.

The kind Luca fell into whenever something was bothering him.

She lowered her coffee cup.

Slowly.

Suspiciously.

Her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with you?"

Luca didn't look up. "Nothing."

"Liar."

"I'm eating."

"You've been staring at the same piece of bacon for five minutes."

His eyes shifted to the bacon.

Damn.

She wasn't wrong.

Jade leaned back in her chair.

There it was. That look. The one she got whenever she smelled weakness. Like a cat spotting movement beneath a blanket. Something was bothering him. Something significant. And she had known Luca long enough to recognize every tell. "Okay," she said. Drawing the word out. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Being weird."

"I am not being weird."

Jade laughed. Actually laughed. "You are incredibly weird right now."

Luca looked away.

Which only made her smile wider.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

For a moment she simply studied him.

Then her gaze drifted around the room.

The breakfast cart, the windows, the couch, the door.

And finally—understanding flickered behind her eyes.

Subtle.

Almost imperceptible.

But Luca saw it.

Saw the exact moment she connected the dots.

The room service delivery.

The timing.

The fact he had been alone in the suite while she had been showering.

The smile spreading across her face was immediate. Treacherous. "Oh."

Luca immediately hated that smile. "What?"

"Oh, nothing."

His eyes narrowed. "Jade."

She lifted her coffee cup.

Trying—and failing—not to laugh. "No."

"Jade."

Her grin widened.

"You look jealous."

The words landed like a hand grenade tossed casually onto the breakfast table.

Silence.

Complete silence.

Luca stared at her.

Jade smiled into her coffee.

And somewhere deep inside his chest, something growled.

"Don't flatter yourself." The insult came immediately, sharp and dismissive, exactly the way Luca intended it.

Jade's smile only widened, a traitorous, knowing curve of her lips that always seemed to catch him off guard. She lifted her coffee cup to her lips, watching him over the rim as she took a slow, deliberate sip, her eyes never leaving his. The low neckline of her halter top offered a tantalizing glimpse of her décolletage, a smooth expanse of skin that caught the morning sun. "Oh?"

"Yes, oh."

The sunlight pouring through the expansive windows of the suite painted the room in warm, inviting gold, a stark contrast to the simmering undercurrent of their exchange. Outside, the city continued its relentless movement, a vast, oblivious entity beneath them, utterly unaware of the silent, breakfast-time battle taking place within these luxurious walls.

Jade leaned back in her chair, sinking into the plush upholstery. She leaned back far back, so far that the front legs of her chair lifted briefly, a playful, almost defiant defiance of gravity that made Luca immediately frown. Her short skirt, barely skimming her thighs, rode up further with the movement, revealing more of her long, sculpted legs. "Stop that," he commanded, his voice tight, a barely suppressed edge to it.

The smile spread wider across her face, a slow, unfolding bloom. "Stop what?"

"You're going to crack your skull open."

"Concerned about me?" The question hung in the air, laced with an almost unbearable sweetness, a silken trap.

"No." The response came, perhaps, a fraction too quickly, a tell Jade was already cataloging with fierce delight.

Jade laughed, a soft, knowing sound that vibrated pleasantly in the quiet room. She then stretched her arms lazily above her head, a movement that was not dramatic, nor overtly seductive, but just enough to work the stiffness from her shoulders. The thin, silk fabric of her halter top shifted with the motion, drawing Luca's eye to the smooth curve of her back and the way the straps of her halter top barely contained her. She had slept for maybe three hours, and every muscle in her body felt it, a gentle ache that prompted this entirely innocent-seeming stretch.

The movement itself was entirely innocent, a simple physical response to stiffness. But the look she shot him afterward was not. Luca saw it immediately: the glint of challenge, the undeniable amusement, the deliberate, unmistakable attempt to provoke a visceral reaction. His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "Don't start," he warned, his voice low and rough.

Jade looked positively delighted, her eyes sparkling like dark, mischievous jewels. "Start what?"

"You know exactly what."

"I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about."

The lie was so blatant, so charmingly delivered, that it was almost impressive. Luca shook his head and reached for his coffee, a silent plea to whatever deities might be listening. God help him. She was in one of those moods. The dangerous moods. The ones where she woke up and chose violence – not physical violence, no, but psychological violence. The worst, and most exhilarating, kind.

Jade reached for the orange juice, the bottle sitting just beyond her comfortable reach. Instead of rising like a normal person, she leaned across the table, her body elongating, the hem of her short skirt riding up further, revealing the delicate line of her inner thigh. As she stretched, the low neckline of her halter top dipped precariously, offering a generous view of her cleavage.

Luca watched her do it, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the play of light and shadow on her skin, the subtle movement of her breasts beneath the fabric. Then, he closed his eyes. Slowly. Very slowly. "Jade," he began, his voice strained, a tightrope walk between annoyance and something else entirely.

"What?" Her voice was pure, unadulterated innocence, a perfect, infuriating performance.

"Sit down."

"I am sitting down."

"Barely." The sheer audacity of her innocence deserved an award.

She poured herself another glass, completely unbothered, completely aware of the subtle, escalating game she was playing.

The short skirt shifted again as she settled back, and Luca couldn't help but notice the bare expanse of her knees. Luca knew that look. He had known it for years. The look that said she had found a weakness, a tiny, vulnerable spot, and intended to poke it repeatedly until something, or someone, inevitably snapped. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't going to get the reaction she so clearly craved. At least, that was what he kept telling himself, a desperate mantra against the rising tide of her deliberate provocations.

"You've become incredibly annoying in the last ten minutes," he finally grumbled, his voice rough.

She gasped, a sound entirely theatrical, a hand fluttering to her chest, drawing his eye to the curve of her breast. "That hurts."

"You'll survive."

"Maybe."

"No. Definitely."

Jade laughed again, the sound filling the suite, bright and warm and utterly alive. Luca hated, hated, how much he liked hearing it.

Across the table, she rested her chin in her palm, her eyes never leaving him, studying him with an unnerving intensity. The way a cat studied something it intended to torment for the foreseeable future, with a gleeful anticipation of the chase. She shifted slightly, her hip nudging the edge of the table, the movement casual but drawing his eye to the subtle sway of her body and the way the short skirt parted slightly. "You know," she said thoughtfully, her gaze unwavering, "you're much grumpier than usual."

"I'm not grumpy."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm eating breakfast."

"You're glaring at breakfast." Luca looked down, realizing with a jolt of annoyance that he was, in fact, glaring at his eggs as if they had personally offended him.

Jade immediately lost whatever composure she had left, her laughter echoing through the room, unrestrained and infectious.

Luca pointed his fork at her, a silent, futile warning, the tines glinting in the sunlight.

Jade ignored it completely, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Keep laughing," he warned, his voice a low growl.

"Oh, I intend to," she shot back, her laughter only intensifying, each peal a tiny dart aimed directly at his carefully constructed composure.

His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking ominously.

She laughed harder, and despite every ounce of irritation crawling through his system, despite the headache she had already expertly manufactured, despite the lingering panic of the entire morning's unforeseen complications— Luca found himself fighting the undeniable urge to smile.

Which, of course, only made him more irritated. Because if Jade noticed that flicker of amusement, he knew, with absolute certainty, that he would never hear the end of it.

"I have the room until eleven," she teased even farther, reaching for a cigarette and a cup of coffee. Her headache, a mere phantom now, completely gone and forgotten about. The directness of her offer hung in the air, a provocative dare. "We could fuck." She winked at him over the rim of her mug, her pale-green eyes locking to his, a challenge and an invitation all in one.

Luca's gaze darkened, the golden flecks within them seeming to ignite as he lifted them to Jade. The casualness of her proposition, the sheer audacity, sent a jolt through him, a primal response that warred with his ingrained sense of duty. His jaw tightened, and he spoke through his teeth, the words clipped and strained. "Will you please eat so we can go?"

Jade's smirk widened, a flash of pure mischief. But she nodded, a small, almost imperceptible concession. "Fine. You are never any fun," she pouted slightly, a theatrical display that Luca saw right through.

That time, Luca was the one to smirk, a tight, knowing expression. "Thank you," Jade responded by sticking her tongue out at him, a childish gesture that did nothing to diminish the potent sensuality she radiated. Future Alpha or not, she was defiant when it came to him. She didn't like him trying to put a leash on her, and she certainly didn't like it when Walter did it himself.

As Jade lit her cigarette, the thin plume of smoke curling upwards, Luca fought a fierce battle within himself. Her proposition, so blunt and unashamed, was both horrifying and undeniably arousing. It bypassed all the carefully constructed walls he had built around his feelings for her, those feelings he refused to acknowledge even to himself.

Fuck.

The word echoed in his mind, a forbidden syllable that sent a tremor through him. He pictured her body, the curve of her neck revealed by the low halter, the tantalizing glimpses afforded by her short skirt. He imagined the silk of her camisole against his skin, the heat of her breath, the scent of her that always managed to bypass his senses and go straight to his primal core. He was supposed to be the future Alpha, the one who maintained order, the one who made rational decisions. And here he was, a coiled spring of forbidden desire, all because of his adopted sister, the woman who was so unafraid, so free, in her sexuality.

He saw the challenge in her eyes, the playful defiance, and it chipped away at his resolve.

She was pushing him, daring him, and he hated it.

He hated that he wanted to respond, to meet her gaze with something other than annoyance.

He hated that her teasing, her bluntness, bypassed all his defenses and struck at something deep and ancient within him.

She was so unaware of the effect she had, of the internal chaos she stirred. To her, it was a game, a way to push against the authority she resented. To him, it was a dangerous precipice, a fall he was desperately trying to avoid.

He clenched his jaw, forcing his attention back to the plate of food. He needed her to eat, he needed them to leave, he needed to put distance between them before he did something he would regret, something that would shatter the fragile peace of their pack, something that would irrevocably change the way he saw her, and the way she saw him. But the image of her winking, the hint of a promise in her eyes, was seared into his mind, a burning ember that refused to be extinguished.

"Ian took your car home," Luca tells her as he is carrying her bag out of the penthouse room of the hotel. His voice is neutral, but his eyes, sharp and observant, scan her as if to gauge the lingering effects of her earlier headache. "I figured your ass was hungover."

Jade pushes her large sunglasses further up her nose, a gesture that does little to hide the mischievous glint in her eyes.

They wait for the elevator, the air thick with unspoken things.

The blonde bellhop, the same one who had made those embarrassingly bold comments earlier, is coming down the hall, heading for the elevator.

Luca's jaw tightens. He does not want to fight a kid in a confined space.

If the boy is smart, he will keep his mouth shut.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open.

Luca, ever the protector, subtly positions himself between Jade and the young man. All three enter, the silence inside the car almost deafening.

Jade, completely oblivious to the subtle tension Luca is carefully managing, hums a tuneless melody.

The young man, bless his sensible heart, keeps his mouth shut, his gaze fixed resolutely on the illuminated floor numbers.

As they are exiting on the first floor, Jade, with a predatory gleam, catches the boy glancing at her skirt-clad ass.

In a move so swift and audacious it almost makes Luca wince, she lifts her hand and pumps it towards and away from her mouth, while using her tongue to push at the inside of her cheek, perfectly imitating the act of fellatio.

The blonde's jaw drops, his eyes widening in disbelief and mortification.

Jade lets out a peal of laughter, a bright, sharp sound, and turns back around, sliding her arm into Luca's as if nothing had happened.

Luca ignores the blatant display, having seen it out of the corner of his eye. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. He has seen her shock people before, but this was... next level.

As the valet pulls up his Mercedes to the front, Luca opens Jade's door and closes it behind her, the hem of her skirt brushing up her thighs as she slides into the seat. Luca swallows hard, the brief, involuntary visual jolting him. He rounds the hood to the driver's seat, the lingering scent of her perfume a subtle taunt.

The hour ride home is mostly quiet, punctuated by Jade's occasional, comical attempts to tease him.

"Honestly, Luca," she says, her voice laced with mock indignation, "Ian gets to drive my car home because I was hungover? You're the one who was supposed to be looking after me. And yet, you leave me to the mercy of my own poor decisions. It's a conspiracy, I tell you!" She taps her sunglasses dramatically. "I bet you whispered to him to make sure he scuffs up my rims."

Luca glances at her, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Walter nearly bit my head off because you weren't home. And then he nearly took it off again when he realized I was the one who let you stay out." He lets out a dry chuckle. "So, yeah, maybe I'm the one who's suffering here, not Ian."

Jade knows she is in for a lecture when she gets back. If she is lucky, Walter has calmed down by the time they get back. Roman will never let her live this one down, not after she had made him think she was actually going to be responsible for once.

She sighs, fiddling with the hem of her short skirt. She has two days before her twenty-first birthday. The thought of being bonded to her mate when midnight strikes, a stranger whose face she doesn't even know, scares her more than anything. She doesn't want to fall in love with a stranger. What if he is the biggest asshole in the world? She would still be compelled to love him anyhow, all because her instincts would override her common sense, binding her to someone she might detest.

She could reject her mate, technically. She was already an outcast, a stray, so that wouldn't change things much for her. No one treated her normally anyway. Either the men of the pack tripped over their heels to get away from her, or they looked at her like something that was dragged in off the streets. Walter's Stray. That's what the females of the packs whispered behind cupped hands, not to her face, of course, but she'd heard it enough times to sting.

Luca notices her far-off expression, the way her usual vivacity has dimmed. He glances at her, his brow furrowing. "You okay? You look like you're about to be sick."

Jade laughs it off, waving a dismissive hand. "I am fine... Just thinking about my birthday..."

Luca frowns, the playful annoyance in his eyes replaced by a deeper concern. He knows how much Jade has been dreading it, the looming responsibility, the forced intimacy. He can almost feel the weight of it settling on her, a stark contrast to her usual carefree demeanor.