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“This gorilla won’t let go of my arm!”
“That’s because she refused to get into the vehicle when I asked kindly.”
“I had to go to Erin’s playschool, you moron!” The shout was hollered at both Josh and the guard.
“You’ve arranged for someone to collect him?” Josh demanded quickly.
“I handled that,” Harold inserted.
“A stranger is going to collect my son from playschool,” she spat. “That’s no solution. Not in my eyes.”
No, he could see that, and her firebrand anger, when he’d only ever seen her calm—and recently, despondent—was so refreshing that, so help him, he felt his cock stir at the sight of her.
This was no regular rage. It was that of a tigress fighting for her cub, and it surged through his blood with a ferocity that bewildered him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” Josh said a little stiffly, mostly because he was in the wrong, but also because he was dealing with these weird fluctuations in his body that were bewildering him.
Josh maintained a strong hold on his self-control. It was the only way a man could reach his lofty heights without floundering. Every moment of his day was itemized—and on his personal schedule, one that Ethan didn’t see—he even listed when he’d be having sex and how long he could allot to the task.
Sex for Josh was a physical release. It was like exercise for another man. He scheduled it because it was important to keep himself refreshed, but just like doing a push-up, it could get tedious with the same woman.
He was used to being pretty cold where the opposite sex was concerned. Thanks to his early relationships with his mother, he figured a shrink would have a field day with his repressive traits. But the shrinks would also have a field day when taking into account how he was responding to Samantha.
Dammit, he’d loathed her for a lot longer than he’d liked her. And even now, the liking was entangled with a weird kind of anger. She’d broken the looking glass, made him see the truth.
A nasty truth.
Jamie wasn’t the man Josh had believed him to be.
The one person, aside from his grandparents, he truly believed he could say he loved, and it had been a lie.
He firmed his mouth at the thought, refusing to go down that path again. He’d already had too many sleepless nights over the past, and he was intending on helping Samantha out, to rectify the lies Jamie had fed them all.
He’d do what he could, would always be there to support her and Erin come what may.
Josh agreed with the opinion most people had of him. He was cold. But where it mattered, his honor ran true. His grandfather had taught him that.
“Harold, why didn’t you listen to Mrs. Garrett?”
“You insisted she be here by five, sir.”
Josh winced; he remembered that conversation. He’d spoken to Harold that morning about collecting Samantha, and Josh hadn’t entirely been in that great a mood after he’d heard news of a deal potentially going south.
He rubbed his chin. “I might have seemed a tad more forceful than intended. In future, you’re to listen to Samantha if she insists she can’t attend me.”
“Attend you?” Samantha scowled at him. “What do you think you are? A pasha?”
He cocked a brow. “No. You’re fiancé.”
Harold stiffened at that. “I apologize, sir. Ma’am.” He cut Samantha a sheepish look. “I didn’t realize.”
Josh nodded at the man, knowing the apology was truly meant and that the fault rested with him. He reached for Samantha’s arm, sliding his hand under her elbow. Cupping it, he guided her forward and away from Harold. “I’m sorry about that.”
“He treated me like a criminal,” she spat, tugging her arm free from his.
The hiss garnered the attention of the assistant. Josh sighed, well aware he was breaking all of Jacobsons’ rules about silence.
Grateful no other customer was here, he murmured, “That’s because I was in a mood when I arranged for him to collect you.”
