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Jasper smiled and pushed off the sofa. “Get dressed.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going somewhere to eat.” His smile was still in place, but if I wasn’t imagining things, there was a small wobble to it.
Wishful thinking. “I can order room service.” That was exactly what I planned to do as soon as my heroine got her happy ending.
Jasper stepped over the coffee table and stood toe to toe with me, towering over me.
“Go get dressed, Maureen. Or if you prefer, I can carry you out of here in what you’re wearing now. The choice is yours.”
A shiver stole through me at his command, his threat, and I pushed at his chest. Jasper didn’t budge. “Fine. I’ll be back.”
“Hurry.”
“Don’t rush me,” I grumbled as I walked away, a smile on my face. I had no idea what Jasper was up to, and I was too afraid to ask. He could be taking me to the desert to kill me, a doctor to abort the baby, or, hope against hope, home to Ashby manor where he would have his wicked way with me and tell me he loved me too. That he finally saw me.
“Yeah, right,” I whispered to myself as I grabbed a pair of jeans and a V-neck sweater from my closet.
My first instinct was to grab something sexy, maybe fitted and low-cut, but I kept it simple because I was too tired and entirely too hormonal to deal with more rejection. I tamped down my expectations, reminding myself that despite his ruthless tendencies, Jasper was a stand-up guy. He wanted to do the right thing, but that was all this was.
It wasn’t romance, and it sure as fuck wasn’t love.
Not on his part anyway.
After a quick coat of mascara and colored lip gloss, I met Jasper in the living room. “Ready.”
Jasper stood and looked at me for a long moment, desire flaring in his green eyes as he took in every detail of my simple outfit. He licked his lips, sealing whatever he’d been about to say behind them.
“Let’s go.” Jasper reached a hand out to me, and I stared at it like it was a grenade, threatening to explode in my face at any moment.
But when would this ever happen again? Jasper wasn’t the hand-holding type, so I put my palm to his and let him take me away. To heaven or to hell, I still wasn’t sure yet.
“Where are we going?”
Jasper sat behind the wheel, no driver or security anywhere I could see, and started the engine. “What’s the matter, Mo, you don’t trust me?”
“I trust you, but I also know you.”
A rumble of deep laughter spilled from him, and he looked even more gorgeous. Happy and amused Jasper was even more dangerous than the scowling, bossy version. The smile on his face lifted my heart and hardened my nipples. “In that case, does it matter where we’re going?”
“Nope.” I was doomed either way.
“Good girl.” He laughed again and dropped a hand on my thigh, giving it a squeeze that I felt all the way up to my scalp.
I gasped when he pulled into the private airstrip and parked inside the massive hangar.
“Don’t worry, you’ll like where we’re going. I promise.” My heart doubled its tempo at the smile he sent my way.
I love this man. Help me, but I really fucking love him.
“I’m not worried.” At least not how he was thinking. I was worried that this little romantic getaway wouldn’t diminish my feelings for him but would amplify them. I was worried that I would never love a man the way I loved Jasper, and that whatever this was, it was temporary above all else.
Being inside the private jet with the buttery off-white leather seats put a small smile on my lips. This was part of the impossible fantasy, and I would enjoy every minute of it. The jet took off, and a busty flight attendant handed me a ginger ale with a fake ass smile on her face. “Enjoy your flight.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip and turned to Jasper. “Nice jet.”
“Thanks.” His lips twitched with amusement. “I like it.”
“Did you pick it out?”
“I did. Sadie sold her jet because she prefers to have stylists and designers come to her. New York makes her uneasy, at least that’s what she says.”
I sighed and sank into the soft leather seat. “I can’t believe she would give up the chance to hop in a jet to go shopping in Paris or Milan, even London.” That was another part of the dream.
“Vegas has plenty of shopping, and we’re just a few hours from Rodeo Drive.”
I had money, a good amount of it, in fact. It wasn’t Ashby money, which meant I couldn’t afford to hop a jet just to go shopping. “There’s always online shopping.”
We fell into a comfortable silence as the jet cut through the sky, the cities below turning to desert, interrupted by brief strips of thick forest. When the wheels touched down, I didn’t recognize where we were. Other than weekends in the finest hotels in Vegas and one lone weekend in Reno, I hadn’t seen much of Nevada since I’d made it my home. “
