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“Hopefully not.” He pauses. “So, how are you?”
“Me?”What does he mean?
“Bruises all gone?”
Oh, that.“Yes. Good as new. They’ve not been back, those two police officers.”
“I want to know straight away if either of them bothers you again. Or anyone else, for that matter.” He takes my chin between his fingers and turns my face from side to side, inspecting for any remaining damage.
“I can take care of myself,” I protest.
“And how’s that been going for you?” His lip quirks.
“All right. Usually.”
“Straight away,” he repeats. “You’re under my protection. Fully paid up.” He pats the wad of notes in his pocket. “Is that clear?”
Eyes the colour of dark chocolate pin me to my seat. I swallow, hard, though I’m not afraid of him. Not really afraid. More…apprehensive.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Perfectly clear.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you, Jenna.” His voice has lowered.
He leans over me, so close I can smell the spiciness of his cologne and pick out the darker flecks in his irises.
He has beautiful eyes. I always thought so.
“Marty would want me to look out for you,” he murmurs.
“Thank you. I think…”
“You were always a pretty little kid. Now, you’re a lovely woman. I intend to make sure you stay that way. ”
I gape at him, astonished. “Me?” I squeak.
“You, Jenna Delaney. No one else is to lay hands on you.”
“No one else?”Does he mean…?
“That’s right. No one but me.” His lips brush mine, featherlight, barely there at all. “Shall we agree on that?”
“I…if you say so.”
“I do.” He trails his lips around to my ear, nibbles the lobe before moving on to my neck and shoulder. My top is the usual low-cut style I favour for when I’m working. He nudges it aside with his fingers to reveal the swell of my right breast.
“Jenna, you know what I want.”
I manage a nod.
“The question is, what do you want?”
“Me?” WhatdoI want? What have I wanted for as long as I can remember? “I want you,” I whisper, before I can think of something more circumspect. “I always have.”
“Well, this is convenient.” He shoves my top lower, exposing both breasts. “Do you think you could be persuaded to take this off?”
I abandon any pretence at caution or modesty. I’ve waited too long, and now I’ve started… “I believe I might.”
He straightens, his smile near dazzling. He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over the back of the settee. “Does that door lock?”
