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“For what?”
“For me calling off the dogs and letting you in.”
Behind me, Samuel chokes a little at being referred to as a dog, even metaphorically, and I promise myself I’ll make it up to him. Later. After I get this very sexy woman into the nearest bed—or towel-covered rock, as my dick is telling me the nearest bed is waaaaaaay too far.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Not even a little.” I step in front of her, very deliberately blocking her path.
“You can’t own a public park!” she says again, voice raised in annoyance. “What part of that aren’t you understanding?”
“The part that forgets about a little known Wildemarian statute, one that says a man’s entitled to do whatever he has to to protect his land. Within reason, of course.”
“But this isn’t your land,” she retorts. “It’s public parkland.”
“Not if I call squatter’s rights.”
“Squatter’s rights?” She looks incredulous. And annoyed. And—this could be wishful thinking, but I don’t think so—a very tiny bit intrigued. “You can’t do that!”
“Sure I can. There’s another statute on the books that gives squatter’s rights to any public land that is occupied by three or more people.”
“No.”
I lift a brow. “No?”
“No, no, no. I call bullshit. Those laws would be ridiculous—”
“They are,” I agree as I unlock my phone and hold it out to her. “But you can Google them. One is civil code thirty-seven a, provisions six through nine and the second is—”
“You can’t be serious!” she answers, even as she snatches my phone out of my hand. About a minute later, she looks back up at me with narrowed eyes. “You are serious.”
“I am.”
“Squatter’s rights?” she says again, as if it’s the most bizarre term she’s ever heard. “So what keeps people from claiming all the public parkland here in Wildemar? Especially the beaches? They have to be worth a fortune.”
“It’s a fairly obscure statute. Not many people know about it.”
“And you just happen to be one of the lucky few who do?”
“What can I say? I’m a good researcher.”
“More like a good con man,” she says with a snort. “But far be it from me to trespass on private land.”
She starts to turn around and go back the way she came, which is wholly and completely unacceptable. Especially considering sparring with her keeps my mind off the rest of my shitty life. But since I’d have to leapfrog over her shoulders to get in front of her, something my still tender ribs are not okay with, I nod to Bryce to block her path. Which he does, so quickly and silently she doesn’t notice until he’s already there.
“Are you kidding me?” she squawks as she turns to glare at me. “Two bodyguards? Don’t you think that’s a little overkill?”
Her tone suggests that it’s a lot overkill and I don’t bother to correct her. How can I when her tone asks who the hell I think I am? Which is such a novel experience I find myself not wanting it to end.
Even before the kidnapping, it was rare to find someone who didn’t recognize me on sight. Now that my face has been plastered on every newspaper and magazine cover in the free world, it’s pretty much impossible. But as she stands there, eyebrows raised and hands on her curvy little hips, I can’t help enjoying the fact that she doesn’t know. And the fact that for a few minutes I can carry on a conversation with someone who isn’t thinking about the kidnapping. Or the photos of my injuries that leaked after I was rescued. Or the fact that my father has basically labeled me unfit for duty.
No, all she’s thinking is that I’m an asshole on a power trip and that…that is something I can work with. Especially when the prize is an afternoon in bed with the sexiest woman I’ve seen in pretty much forever…
