A Forbidden Affair. Yvonne Lindsay

and rose to his feet, calmly picking up the jeans he’d discarded last night and sliding them on. Nicole struggled to avert her gaze from the fine arrow of hair that angled down from his belly button to behind the waistband of his pants. She’d followed that path, and more, several times this weekend. A hot flush of color rushed to her cheeks. She couldn’t let herself get distracted by sexual attraction. What on earth did he mean when he said she’d be working with him? She didn’t even know what he did for a living. And he didn’t know anything about her … did he?

      “You’ve got it wrong, I have a job. A job I love, with a family I—”

      “Don’t tell me you love them, Nicole. Not after what they’ve done to you.”

      Instantly she rued the way she’d mouthed off in the car when he’d brought her here, and the truths she’d shared over a bottle of red wine as they’d curled naked beneath a blanket on the couch in front of a burning fire, late on Saturday night.

      “They’re still family. At the very least I need to clear the air with them.”

      “Oh, I think that’s a bit more than they deserve. Besides, the air will clear soon enough.”

      Nicole crossed her arms across her stomach. “What on earth are you talking about?”

      “When they learn who you’ve just spent this past weekend with, I very much doubt they’ll be welcoming you home with open arms. I’m pretty much persona non grata with your father.”

      Nate’s lips lifted in a half smile, as if he was laughing at a private joke.

      “You’re speaking in riddles. Why should they care who I spent the weekend with?” she snapped.

      Nate came to stand in front of her. “Because I’m Nate Hunter—Nate Hunter Jackson.”

      Nicole’s mind reeled on his words. Nate Hunter? The Nate Hunter? The reclusive billionaire who was the new head of Jackson Importers, her family firm’s arch nemesis? Her father had never had a kind word to say about Thomas Jackson, or his staff.

      Hang on a minute. Nicole replayed his words in her mind. Had he said Nate Hunter Jackson?

      “I see you’ve made the connection,” Nate said coolly. “And, yes, I am Thomas Jackson’s son. Sweet, isn’t it? All that time your father accused my dad of screwing around with your mother, he was actually with mine.”

      Nicole looked at him in horror as his words slowly sank in, leaving her mind reeling. She hadn’t just been sleeping with a stranger over the entire weekend—she’d literally been sleeping with the enemy!