Read Online Jonquils for Jax: The Rousseaus #1 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 12) by Katy Regnery - Free Book Online

Jax’s fresh scent for old cigars and leather.
    “Why’d you come to the side door?” asked Jax. “It’s a wonder I even heard you. The study door was closed.”
    Fuck. He’d gone to the wrong door. Must have been one of those houses with all sorts of doors along the front façade.
    He cleared his throat, following her through the study and into the grand entry hall he’d been originally expecting.
    “Just went to the first door I found, Duchess. When there are fifty, it’s hard to choose the right one.”
    She turned to face him. “Well, anyway…you’re here.”
    Close enough to touch, and therefore close enough to see clearly, he let his eyes linger on the loveliness of her face for a long moment before dropping them…and the next breath he sucked in had nothing to do with cigars or lavender. On her mouthwatering little body she wore a bright-aqua sports bra and skintight black nylon leggings that just made it to her knees. Her flat stomach was bare. Her legs and feet were bare. As he stared at her feet, he exhaled slowly, running his eyes back up her body, checking out her legs, the slight flare of her hips, her tight waist, tan stomach, and full, perky breasts. Since it was impossible not to ogle, he didn’t attempt to conceal it, slowly making his way back to her eyes to find them sparkling with amusement.
    “Do I pass inspection?” she asked, smiling at him.
    He scowled at her, taking a deep breath. Had she done this for his benefit? His dick thanked her for her thoughtfulness. The rest of him was slightly pissed off about the distraction. He was here to teach her how to defend herself, not make himself so sexually frustrated that he’d be up half the night jacking off to relieve his lust.
    “Where’s the gym?”
    Her smile faded just a touch as she arched an eyebrow at him. “Downstairs.”
    “Lead the way. I’ve only got an hour.”
    “I wouldn’t want to keep you,” she said, her voice losing its warmth.
    He’d hurt her feelings, and that really hadn’t been his intention, but all things considered, it was probably for the best. The more he could keep a little distance between them, the better it would be for both of them.
    Trudging downstairs, he couldn’t help but check out her ass, a thing of incredibly beauty in second-skin Lycra. She was in good shape. She shouldn’t need more than a few lessons before he’d feel like she could at least get herself out of a bad situation. And that was the point, right? Not to spend time with her. Just to make sure she could protect herself from future assholes.
    “So…you’re involved with movies?”
    She turned right at the bottom of the stairs. “Yep.”
    “You live out in LA?” he asked.
    “I’m staying here for a while.”
    “I was wonderin’…” he started.
    “About what?”
    “You mentioned people taking pictures of you.”
    She stiffened. “Mm-hm.”
    “Did you really win an Oscar?”
    “My movie did,” she answered.
    They were in a long cream-colored hallway with recessed lighting and classy framed black-and-white pictures on the wall. He passed a room on the right that read “Screening” on the dark-glass door and another across the hall that read “Studio.”
    “Are you an actress?”
    “Nope. Producer.”
    “Are producers generally bothered by the paparazzi?”
    To his left, they passed three clear-glass sliding doors leading to what he assumed to be a pool from the rectangular-shaped aqua blob surrounded by what appeared to be gray slate.
    “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe they are. If they’re only twenty-seven and…”
    Smokin’ hot.
    “And…?”
    “Their family’s already, you know, on the media’s radar.”
    “Like Paris Hilton?”
    She turned around to face him, stopping before another dark-glass door that read “Gym/Spa.”
    “No,” she said emphatically, her green eyes wide and angry. “ Not like Paris.”
    Gard stopped walking, standing before her, close enough that her unusual