"Are you his willingly?" Jackson demands, his blue eyes as dark as the clouds above our heads. "Tell me. Are you?"Jackson Vale. My boss's rival and the man I've thought far too much about since we were introduced last week. Of all the-- "I'm not his," I sputter indignantly. "I'm just his employee. He doesn't own me." And for some reason this sets off a flare of intensity and... satisfaction? in Jackson's expression. That's it, I officially give up trying to understand any of this. But then Jackson leans over and speaks so softly in my ear I can barely hear it above the falling rain. " If you belonged to me, Miss Cruise, you wouldn't look so disgusted. True ownership goes both ways. I would own you, but you'd own me, too. A concept I'm sorry to say Bryce Gentry's never understood." My breath hitches and I pull back from the intimacy of his voice on my ear, only to get lost in the dark blue of his eyes. "Let me go," I whisper. He does, but before he turns to go, those brooding eyes pierce me one last time. "I'll be seeing you again soon." And then he turns and is gone into the rain-soaked street, leaving me behind, breathless and confused.