Page 58 of Behind These Four Walls

“Not at all. I’m saying that kind of loyalty is rare these days.”

“Loyalty is a dying art. Most people only look out for themselves. I look at the bigger picture.”

“Must be exhausting,” Isla pressed. “Always looking at the bigger picture. Always cleaning up other people’s messes. Being at their beck and call and at the mercy of their whims.”

His smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker in his eyes. He looked away to disguise it. “I do what’s needed. But it’s not about glory, right? It’s about stability. The Corrigans have a way of ... attracting chaos. You should know all about that, right? You were the cause of it last night.”

Isla told herself not to react, because it was what he wanted. She was done playing into people’s hands, and she was damn sure he knew Brooke had set her up.

“Stability,” Isla repeated, getting back to the point. She let the word hang in the air. “What about you, Jackson? What doyouget out of all this? Really? No matter what they do, how they act, you and Dixon remain by their sides. What do you do if they ask you to do something that goes against your beliefs?”

His eyes sharpened as he leveled them at her. “You gotta check your beliefs at the door, or you won’t survive inthisworld. I know when to speak, when to act, when to move. I protect myself always. Everyone does. You should too. You’re too green.”

Isla tilted her head. “Survive? That sounds more like a soldier than a lawyer.”

Jackson leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “The world needs soldiers. Not everyone can be a general.”

Midway through the interview, Jackson’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and stood abruptly. “Excuse me. I need to take this. International call from Japan I’ve been waiting for.” His disarming expression begged forgiveness, and Isla bet many a woman fell for his unflappableGQdemeanor.

“Do your thing,” she said, standing up. “I’ll use the restroom while you’re on the phone.”

He motioned in the general direction of three closed doors without indicating which was which, distracted by the call he wanted to take, and stepped out onto his back patio, closing the door behind him. She guessed he didn’t want her to hear what he was saying, but she could still hear him, even if she couldn’t pick out actual words. Any other time, she’d have tried to listen in, but this was a prime opportunity.

Isla seized the moment. Her heart pounded as she rose from her seat, moving quickly but quietly. She wandered down the hallway, peeking into each room, passing his bedroom with its immaculately made bed, which made her shudder. She didn’t want to think about what went down on it.

Kitty-corner to the bedroom was a room with a slightly ajar door. She peeked in. His office. Before going in, she strained her ears to ensure he was still on his call. When searching for information, with limited time, she had one guess where the big-ticket find might be. The desk. She immediately went over and did a quick scan over the several neat stacks of paperwork. Her heart was thundering, and she calmed herself down. How many other times had she secretly sneaked into spaces to get dirt her clients could use on whoever was threatening their interests? She couldn’t be greedy.See what you can find, and think about it later.

As she quickly moved from stack to stack, one misaligned piece of paper stood out from the other contracts, memos, plans, and so forth stacked on the desk. She went in for a closer look. It was an invoice for a storage unit. It shouldn’t have meant anything, but the invoice was for a storage company in Ruckersville. What stood out the most was the size of the unit. It was huge at ten feet by thirty feet. She wondered what he could have in storage outside town. She wasn’t sure how far out it was, but that was a question to figure out later. She pulled out her phone and took a picture. She left quickly, closing the door to the point she’d found it. He was still on the phone, his voice raised, and the conversation sounded heated. She tried her luck, because directly across from her, three steps away, was the bedroom, with the bathroom in between the bedroom and office. She flipped on the light in the bathroom, flushed the toilet, and ran the water in the sink, dipping in a hand and drying it with one of the paper towels, which she tossed in the trash. She hesitated at the doorway of the bedroom.

The bedroom was immaculate, with dark furniture and a bed that looked barely slept in. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a recessed wall beside the closet and a black safe tucked discreetly into the wall niche. It looked expensive—had an electronic locking system, she could tell from her cursory glance. She quickly whipped her phone back out to take a photo of its face and brand.

People locked up valuables and things they didn’t want others to get or know of. The safe called to her. What could Jackson be hiding in there? Isla was so engrossed in her thoughts of what was in the safe and how she could get in that she forgot to keep a listen out. She forgot she was on borrowed minutes.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Isla didn’t realize Jackson’s call had ended. Not until she felt the heat of a presence behind her. She spun around, bumping into him, her nose smashing into his chest. His arms immediately wrapped around her back, pulling the rest of her closer to his body before slipping down to her waist. She looked up andhe looked down, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, taking in her flushed face and nervous smile.

“This isn’t the bathroom,” he said, his tone both amused and getting husky with desire.

“Yes,” Isla said quickly, hopping out of his embrace like he was an atomic bomb. Her whole body was on fire from a tumult of feelings—shock, horror, discomfort, revulsion. She gestured vaguely. “I, um, thought I heard an alarm or something going off in here after I was done. False alarm.” She let out a high giggle; she had no idea where it came from. Usually so cool under fire, she was not this time. “Get it?”

His eyebrow lifted, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Hmm.”

She absolutely didn’t like the way his eyes raked over her from his vantage point, like he was Superman and could see right through her jeans and V-necked T-shirt, which she now wished wasn’t so tight and low cut. She tried to turn away in a vain attempt to shield herself from him.

“If you wanted to tour my bedroom as part of this interview, you only had to ask. You do that for the others too? Or is it only me who gets the pleasure?”

Isla forced another, more controlled laugh, brushing past him so she was no longer cornered with him blocking the path to the door. “You’re funny, Jackson. No beeping, but then I saw this minibar setup you had and got distracted. My apologies.”

His hands were balled on either side of him, his fingers rubbing together as his stare did not waver. He was seeing right into the depths of her soul. She was a caught rabbit, unable to move or think, or come up with one of the witty Isla-isms that usually disarmed weird moments. Never before had she felt this vulnerable in this way.

Finally, finally, he broke, smiling widely. His body and the vibe that he was on the edge, about to dive into his deepest, most unrestrained desires, began to retract.

“The interview,” he started.

She was already backing out of the room. Turning fully to head back to the sitting room, she tried to think of ways to end things now and also how she might return later when he was gone. “Yes, well, um ...”

He said, “Can you give me a rain check?”

What? She did an about-face, genuinely surprised and confused. “What? Why?”