Greyson rubbed the back of his neck as he looked down at Jenna’s sleeping form. She was curled into a fetal position on Remy’s office couch. Her face was red and blotchy as if she had been crying.
“How long has she been here?” Greyson asked. Why Jenna would come to the Tropical Rain casino was beyond him. Did she have a gambling addiction?
“I’m not sure,” Remy said. “I stumbled upon her an hour ago.”
“Stumbled?”
“She was hiding behind the mega fortune wheel out front.”
“Hiding?”
Remy leveled his stare. “Yes. Hiding. When I pulled her out I could tell she was going to put up a fight, but then she just crumpled when she recognized me. I asked her a few questions, but she didn’t answer. As soon as I called you, she passed out.”
“She didn’t tell me anything either. I don’t know what I can do for her if she won’t talk.”
“She’s obviously afraid.”
“Obviously.”
Greyson stepped closer to Jenna, his fingers drifted over to brush a lock of hair from her face.
“What could she be afraid of?” Greyson asked.
“I don’t know, but she’s your problem now,” Remy answered.
“No, she’s not.”
“Then she’s on her own. I’m heading out of town tonight.”
“The thorn?” Greyson asked, still staring at Jenna.
“Yes.”
Greyson gave a slight nod, rubbing his hand along his jaw. Jenna had become his problem. His own pint-sized thorn. He reached out and nudged her shoulder. “Jenna.” When she didn’t respond, he shook her harder. “Jenna, wake up. It’s time to go.”
“She’s dead to the world,” Remy said. “I doubt she’ll wake for hours.”
Greyson tossed his keys to Remy. “Have someone bring my car to the back door. I’ll carry her out.”
When Remy ducked out of the office, Greyson returned his gaze to Jenna, his fingers drifting over her cheek. “I don’t know how to help you, Jenna.”
* * *
Jenna yawned and cracked her eyes open. The late-morning sun filtered through her shades, stirring her to rise. She yawned again and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Turning her head, she saw her laptop sitting on the nightstand.
Laptop?
Jenna bolted from the bed and quickly took in her surroundings. She was in her bedroom at Greyson’s house. She blinked. How did she get here? The last thing she remembered was Remy pulling her from her hiding spot at the casino. She followed him to his office where he bombarded her with questions. When he finally admitted defeat in a threatening growl, he called Greyson.
Greyson.
Her chest tightened. He must have brought her home. And no doubt he’d have questions. Questions that Jenna didn’t have the answers to. She had to leave. She’d have to sneak out so she didn’t have to face him. She could only imagine what Greyson thought of her.
Crazy. That’s what he thought of her, and she didn’t blame him one bit.
Jenna raced to the bathroom and hurried through a shower. She only had the clothes she woke up with, so she toweled off and slipped back into them. Tying her shoes, she said a quick plea for help to avoid Greyson. She was thankful that he let her sleep in the little bedroom again, but she wasn’t going to involve him in her troubles.
Jenna cracked the door open and peeked out. The hallway was clear and she didn’t hear any noises — not that she expected him to be in the third-floor hallway waiting for her, but she had a feeling that if she let her guard down, that’s when he would surprise her.
Trailing along the hallway, she made it to the staircase and slowly crept down, straining to hear. It wasn’t until she arrived at the first floor that she heard a giggle.
A giggle?
She wondered if it was Mya. The urge to investigate was strong, but the desire to escape was greater. Jenna headed to the front door and was only a step away from opening it when she heard a few women giggling.
Was Greyson entertaining? Or had the entertainment been the night before?
No.
Couldn’t be.
He wasn’t the sort to bring a flock of silly girls home, was he? It’s not like he had a ton of sex appeal. There was some, she admitted, but not enough to attract an entourage.
Maybe he’d already hired her replacement and additional staff.
Something wasn’t adding up, and irritation listening to the women was strangling her nerves. Jenna knew she was replaceable, but by giggling girls? It was a slap in the face.
Jenna stepped away from the door and followed the obnoxious sound. It lead her to the patio doors where three women stood, gawking out the window. Jenna stepped closer to investigate. What was out there that would induce fits of snickering? And who were these women?
Upon closer inspection, she found the source of their amusement, but she couldn’t understand why it was amusing. Greyson was outside planting the hedge maze like normal. She didn’t see anything funny about it.
One of the women noticed her and nudged the others. They quickly sobered and eyed her questioningly. They were all wearing the same blue polo shirts with a logo on it. Jenna couldn’t read it from where she stood.
“Who are you?” one asked.
Another woman, the oldest of the gawkers, yet only in her early thirties, elbowed the younger woman and looked to Jenna. “I’m sorry if we disturbed you. We didn’t know there was anyone else in the house.”
“You didn’t disturb me,” Jenna replied. “I was just on my way out and heard voices. Who are you?”
“We’re from the cleaning service. We come once a week when Mr. Miller is in residence. I’m Mary, the lead. This here is June and Zoey,” she said, pointing to the two ladies beside her.
Jenna nodded in understanding. “What was so funny?”
All three women blushed at the same time. One began coughing. Jenna watched them in silence until Mary cleared her throat and stammered her explanation.
Jenna blinked. “You were giggling at Mr. Miller because he is gardening?”
“Not because of the gardening,” Mary tried to explain but then reddened further and looked to the other women for help.
“It’s because he’s gorgeous,” June said matter-of-factly. “We rarely see the notorious Mr. Miller. And, now, he’s gardening.”
Jenna stared. Notorious?
Zoey, the youngest of the group, who had to be only eighteen, nodded. “We can’t help but watch. He’s so hot he makes my mouth dry, but then I feel as though I’m going to drool.”
Mary elbowed the girl.
“Quit elbowing me, Mary!” Zoey scolded. “Your elbows are like spikes.”
“Zoey, she might be his . . . you know,” Mary said under her breath, nodding in Jenna’s direction.
“Oh!” Zoe squeaked. “Are you?” she asked Jenna.
Jenna’s brow quirked. “Am I what?”
“Dating Mr. Miller?”
“No,” Jenna replied.
The doorbell rang.
The women looked at each other and then at Jenna. “Should we answer it?” Zoey asked.
The bell rang again.
“I’ll get it,” Jenna muttered. She headed to the front door, knowing her plan to leave was quickly deteriorating.
Jenna opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“Is Greyson Miller here?” a woman in a skirt suit asked. She would’ve looked professional had her hair not been mussed and her blouse unbuttoned, amplifying her buxom bosom.
“He’s in the backyard working,” Jenna replied, wondering what this woman could possibly want. “Would you like me to get him for you?”
“I just wanted to let him know the sign will be up today.”
“The sign?”
“The for-sale sign,” she said. “Oh, I also wanted him to know that I’m arranging a day for an open house. We’ll do a wine event and draw in some of the big money.” She turned and fluffed her hair. “I’ll just pop in back and let him know.”
“Uh, okay.”
Jenna watched the woman disappear around the house. When she was out of view, Jenna leaned against the doorframe and took a breath.
He was selling.
The pit of her stomach twisted as she closed the door and turned into the entry way, feeling as cold as the marble floor.
This isn’t my house, she reminded herself. Greyson can do whatever he wants with it. But she had such high hopes for the bed and breakfast. Her vision was limitless with possibilities, visions that would never come to fruition.
It was infuriating. If she didn’t have to keep checking her back every minute, she’d force Greyson to take her back so she could continue her work. Not that she could force him to do anything. He was as moveable as a two-ton anvil.
Jenna walked back to the cleaning girls, who had resumed their task of gawking at Greyson through the window. It wasn’t that she was curious, but she might as well stay for a few minutes and leave when the agent did. If Greyson heard a car leaving, he would assume it was the agent and not Jenna piggybacking through the gate.
“Who is she?” Zoey asked, pointing outside.
“The real estate agent,” Jenna answered.
They all turned to Jenna with confused expressions, except for Zoey, who huffed. “She’s hitting on him! Has she no shame?”
“Everyone hits on him,” June said, sucking in her stomach. “I would too if I had half her body.”
“She’s not that pretty,” Zoey said. “I guarantee he won’t fall for her.”
“It looks like he might,” June said. “Look, he’s flexing his muscles.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Zoey replied. “He’s pointing to the far end of the garden.”
“Oh!” Mary gasped. “She just squeezed his bottom while he wasn’t looking.”
Jenna pressed forward, watching as Greyson stepped out of the agent’s reach. She maneuvered closer with a sly smile.
“She’s not very professional,” Mary said.
“Maybe she is professional,” Zoey suggested.
“I heard the housing market’s not very good right now,” June said. “Maybe she subsidizes her income with extra services.”
For every step Greyson took, the agent counter-maneuvered. The fact that the agent was groping Greyson annoyed Jenna. She shouldn’t be annoyed. She shouldn’t even care. So why did Jenna want to rush out and tackle the hussy?
Jenna took a breath and turned from the window. She had to leave and get far, far away from this house, from Greyson, from everything. It was a ridiculous situation, and her jealousy was starting to show. Jealousy? That was a laugh. How could she possibly be jealous over Greyson when she had only known him for a few exasperating days?
Jenna headed to the front door and let herself out. It was time to go. As she walked to the garage, she was stopped by Greyson’s terse voice. He was still in the backyard with the agent, and Jenna’s feet began moving in that direction. She couldn’t help herself.
“You seem very nice, but . . .” Greyson said, pushing the agent’s arms down to her side and off of him. The movement, while executed for defense, left him too close. The agent leaned forward and planted a kiss on his surprised lips.
Greyson backed away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s enough.”
She nodded and looked thoroughly chastised, but Jenna didn’t buy it for one second. “You can’t fault me for trying,” she said. When Greyson didn’t respond, her lips curved into a sultry smile. She leaned in, bosoms at full advantage and caught Greyson in mid-step. He tripped over an unplanted hedge in his escape and ended up toppling them over. They landed on the ground in a tangled heap, with her on top and Greyson pinned beneath. Her smile grew.
Jenna had seen enough. In fact, her vision flooded red. Never before had she wanted to attack with such ferocity. Before she could think to cool down and let Greyson fight his own battle, Jenna marched over and picked up the hose. She pressed hard against the trigger, blasting the woman as she bent over Greyson to steal another kiss. The agent screeched as the frigid water assaulted her with full force. She turned and tried to dodge, but Jenna didn’t let up. She sprayed mercilessly until the woman had the good sense to make a run for it. As she escaped to the front of the house, Jenna let go of the hose and jumped back.
Did she really just do that? Her eyes shot to Greyson in horror. Oh, what was he going to think of her now?
Greyson, soaked from the attack, stood and faced Jenna. “I think you’re getting better with the hose,” he said. “Next time try to point it away from me.”
“She was on top of you. I didn’t really have the option.”
He gave a tight nod, rubbing the back of his neck. Awkward silence ballooned between them.
“I should get going,” Jenna said quickly. “Thank you for letting me stay here last night.”
“Where are you going?”
She didn’t know, so didn’t say. Instead, she tried for a smile and turned to run. He caught her within a few steps, his hand wrapped around her arm.
“Where are you going?” he repeated.
“It’s none of your business,” Jenna stated.
“It became my business when I had to pick you up and bring you home.”
She knew he had a somewhat reasonable argument, and the fact that he was well adept at arguing his point regardless of whether it was reasonable or not made her nervous.
“I don’t want to involve you,” she said.
“Are you in trouble?”
“I’m not not in trouble,” Jenna hedged.
“Jenna!” Greyson barked. “I’m asking a simple question, and I’m soaking wet. I’d like the answer now.”
“Why don’t you change, and then you can ask me anything you want,” Jenna suggested, knowing as soon as he stepped inside, she’d make a break for it.
Greyson studied her. “And will you answer truthfully?”
“Yes.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll hold you to your promise,” he said, heading to the door. “Meet me in the kitchen in five minutes.”
Jenna watched as he disappeared through the patio door. The maids scurried to clear out of his way as he stalked in. As soon as the door closed, Jenna dashed over to the garage. She opened the side door and hurried to her SUV . . . which was not there. It was still at the casino where she left it.
Oh, no.
With a heavy sigh, she left the garage, closing the door behind her. She looked up to find Greyson standing at his window with a smug smile.
She was trapped.