Rules of Entanglement by Gina L. Maxwell

few beats for his next witty remark. When one didn’t seem to be forthcoming, she mentally marked it as a win in her column. Shabba! “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with the wedding coordinator at four o’clock, and although it’s not one of my rules, I still refuse to be late.”
    “We.”
    “What?”
    “ We have an appointment with the coordinator.”
    “Oh, that’s not necessary. I can take care of it.”
    Please let me take care of it. Her emotions were all over the place around him, and she didn’t have the first clue as to what to do about it. She needed a few hours to herself. Time to flush all things Jackson from her mind. Time to gird her loins before she needed to act like half of a couple in love.
    “I don’t doubt your capabilities, V, but I don’t think Reid would let Lucie take care of everything herself. After all, as you so aptly pointed out earlier today, Reid is a very attentive man.” He took her hand and held it between his, the roughness of his fingers a scintillating whisper of possibilities. “In fact, I doubt he’d ever let Lucie out of his sight.”
    Yep. Capital D Dangerous.
    She tried to clear her throat delicately to disguise her sudden unease. “So, I take it you plan on attending all of the appointments this week?”
    Cue shit-eating grin. “Oh, yeah.”
    She withdrew her hand from his, ignoring the shiver that zipped down her spine as his calluses dragged over her skin, and gave him her best you don’t faze me smile. “Fantastic.”
    With that she walked the rest of the way to the bar, retrieved her things, and headed toward the bungalow without looking to see if he followed. As her feet carried her closer to her room, she fiercely prayed for a miraculous mandatory evacuation of every MMA fighter on the island.
    …
    Jackson stood outside the Honu Café where Vanessa was due to meet the wedding coordinator. Sensing she needed some time to herself earlier, he’d gone home, showered, and changed into a dry pair of cargo shorts and a blue polo. Most days he was either surfing or training, so it wasn’t often he wore anything other than board shorts or athletic shorts. And even though he looked identical to every other guy at the resort who wasn’t poolside or oceanside, he still felt overdressed.
    As a couple exited the café, he asked, “Excuse me, can you tell me what time it is?”
    “Certainly,” the woman said, checking her slim wristwatch. “It’s ten till four.”
    He offered her a warm smile. “ Mahalo .” Perfect. He’d made sure he was plenty early to prove to her he wasn’t a total slacker. He could be on time to something if he had to be. Hell, he was never late for training.
    Leaning back against the wall, he put his hands in his pockets and thought about his afternoon with her. She’d accepted his deal, as he’d known she would, even though she claimed it was only because she wanted to and had nothing to do with his proposition. There was still a lot he didn’t know about Vanessa MacGregor, but one thing he knew for sure was that she hated losing control. She needed things to be on her terms at all times.
    Unfortunately for her, even though he’d adapted to a much more laid-back way of life, he was still very used to being in control. However, when he consciously thought about it, control wasn’t something he needed . Outside of the cage and the bedroom, anyway. But old habits die hard, and raising a younger sister for five years made him accustomed to playing leader to Lucie’s follower.
    Beyond that, he was used to women playing coy with him. They liked to think of themselves as hard to get, pulling all the strings and leading the guy along by the short-hairs. And he happily played along. To an extent. Then he flipped the switch and took hold of the reins. Especially during sex. He preferred to have the control. Well, perhaps “preferred” wasn’t the right word. It was more how he was hardwired.
    But the women he’d been