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Anger was a hell of a lot easier to deal with than a redheaded little rogue determined to drive him crazy inside.
“No. Actually, I don’t need your help.” She came to her feet slowly, like a cat slowly unwinding from a favorite bed.
She didn’t stretch, but she didn’t have to. Laziness wasn’t a part of her demeanor at the moment.
“You need someone’s help,” he growled as he stared around the living area once again. “What about the other rooms? Are they ready to load?”
Her eyes narrowed further. “Everything but the living room. Would you like to check, daddy, and make certain I’m following orders?”
The sweetness of her voice almost had his balls shrinking. Intimidation from a five foot four piece of dynamite? It shouldn’t be possible.
But he knew this little piece of dynamite could pack a whallop when it wanted to.
Unfortunately, common sense didn’t seem to be his forte tonight.
“Don’t call me ‘daddy’, Tehya. I’m well aware of your feelings when it comes to fathers.”
She distrusted them. She even watched the men she had worked with for years with a suspicious gaze once they’d become fathers.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jordan,” she replied with a cute little drawl that in no way detracted from the danger glittering in her gaze. “I have no feelings one way or the other where fathers are concerned. I never had a father, so how should I know how they’re
supposed to act. Sperm donors don’t count.”
She had little more than a sperm donor. One that kidnapped her mother, impregnated her, then attempted to raise Tehya to become a brood mare for her half brother.
“You’ve had weeks to prepare for this,” he reminded her. “You should already be out of here.”
Something flashed in her eyes then, something he could have sworn was grief.
If it was, then it was the same grief that seemed to be growing inside him as well. A well of furious denial when it came to walking away from her. She cast him one of those cool little looks of warning retribution as she stood, facing him.
“I dare you,” she suddenly stated, her eyes narrowing as she stared back at him.
Every muscle in his body tightened dangerously.
God no. Don’t let her dare him, not where he could sense that dare was going.
“Excuse me?”
“Are you not hearing so well, Commander Jordan?” A red-gold brow arched slowly as her arms crossed over breasts, pumping the delicate mounds up, making them so damned tempting his mouth almost watered.
“I dare you to actually touch me,” she explained, that note of anger in her voice causing his jaw to clench in determination. “You’ve been a complete prick for six years now, alternating between ignoring me and ordering your men away from me until it’s made me ready to pull my hair out. Be a man Jordan. See if you can handle it. See if you can handle me.”
There were some challenges a man couldn’t ignore no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to. This was one of those challenges.
Be a man?
She had no idea the man she was tempting.
“Don’t push this,” he warned her, his fingers curling to fists at his sides. “You may not like the consequences.”
“Or you may not,” she replied with an edge of pain-filled mockery. “What’s wrong Jordan, afraid you can’t walk away from me as easily as you’ve walked away from the little bimbos you’ve been fucking for the past six years?”
That flare of contempt that lit her gaze had his jaw tightening, but it was the pain, in her voice, in her gaze, that tore at him. He hated hearing the pain, even that blurred edge of it. He’d seen that aching need, that hunger for something more, for years now. Too many years.
“I can walk away from any woman, Tehya.” He tried to keep his tone soft, gentle. God knew he didn’t want to fray those ragged edges further.
Soft lips tightened as the sharp blade of her nose tightened. Emerald green eyes sharpened to a gem brightness, not from tears, no, Tehya didn’t cry easily. Hell, had he seen her cry at all in all the years he had known her? Definitely he hadn’t seen her cry for herself.
