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“I asked if you have any honey,” he repeated, looking her up and down, and fuck yeah, she did. But not the kind he meant.
Gulp.
Squeezing her legs tightly together, Caro rummaged in the cupboard till she found a little squeezable bear.
“Here,” she said, tossing it to him.
“Thank you.”
Ooh, she wished she had some clay.
Jasper Wessex was like sex on legs. Wouldn’t she just love to sculpt him—hell to the yes, she would.
With his muscles and height, she could fashion gods after him. Maybe she could do some gem work as well with those crazy eyes of his. They were unlike anything she had ever seen. A dark golden color, and now and then, she was certain they glowed.
“So, was that a Taser 2x?” he asked, referring to her stun gun.
“Um, yes, actually.”
Caro shrugged, embarrassed now. She’d picked it up on the street outside the airport before hopping into a cab.
“Where did you get that? It’s for law enforcement.”
“Don’t you know you can buy anything online these days?”
“When did you have time?”
“Fine, I got it from some guy right outside the airport. He was a bodyguard I think, but I had cash, and he did not ask questions.”
Jasper was frowning hard, but what was already done was done. She shrugged and refilled his mug.
“It’s over now. I already have the thing. So, do you drink tea often?”
“Sure,” he replied, much to her surprise.
He looked like the kind of guy who only drank protein shakes during work hours and straight whiskey at night. No rocks. No water. Just fiery liquid passing through those full lips and running down his throat.
Would his Adam’s apple bob up and down when he swallowed? What would he taste like if she kissed him there? Salty or sweet? Maybe both.
Uh oh.
Caro fidgeted in her seat, squeezing her legs together to stop the incessant throbbing. For fuck’s sake, what was wrong with her? You’d think after one failed marriage she would be immune to men.
Sigh.
ChapterEight
“You sigh a lot.”
“I do?”
“Yep. Wanna talk about it?”
“Um, well, the thing is, you are really good looking, Jasper,” she said, seeing she had surprised him by his expression. “But I am sure you know that. Anyway, I am an artist and I appreciate beauty, but I am afraid this situation I am in has made me a little, I don’t know, but anyway, I apologize if I was staring. I am sorry—”
“Don’t be,” He interrupted. “I like your eyes on me. I like knowing you like the way I look,” he said, voice so low she barely heard him.
Did that just happen?
