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2
Bleeding Christ, what a mess!
Jasper wiped a frustrated hand over his face. Then stared in a quandary over what to do about the cleaning lady. An exquisitely stunning cleaning lady, he might add, who he’d shared one of the hottest kisses of his life with. His dick strained against the confines of his jeans, hungry for the little thief. He refrained from adjusting himself to provide a measure of relief.
He’d not seen her before with the agency. It knocked him off his axis that she’d brought her kid to work with her. Obviously, she was down on her luck and trying to provide for her little girl. Especially if a measly three hundred bucks would help her out that much. There was a part of him that thought he should just give her the cash, all of it, and send her on her way.
But what killed him was the terror rippling off her and her belief he intended to physically harm her. Someone had hurt this woman, and badly enough that she believed his first course of action was physically hurting her.
Jasper would love thirty minutes in a room with the bastard who’d instilled such fear in her. Was it the little girl’s father? He didn’t spy a ring on the woman’s finger—or jewelry of any kind.
The woman was stunning. She had shoulder-length dark cherry hair that emphasized her high cheekbones. But it was her goddess eyes that really struck him. The slate-blue orbs reminded him of the silver blue waters off the west coast of Scotland and made him homesick.
Bloody hell!
He’d lost his mind because of the kiss. This woman was about to rob him. He couldn’t feel sorry for her. He wouldn’t. Yet he was far more curious than he cared to admit. “Where’s her father?”
At his probing question, her spine stiffened. Her lush mouth turned down at the edges, and she replied, “He’s not in the picture.”
Whatever the situation with the child’s father, it wasn’t a good one. It was likely as he suspected, and he was the individual who’d put the fear of god into the woman.
“I see.” Although he didn’t have the full picture. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. Her delicate hands were clutched protectively around her kid. He held up his hands like he meant no harm, trying to ease her fears. “Relax, I have no intentions of harming you or your kid. That’s not the kind of man I am.”
But someone had. Badly. It was clear she was on her own. He didn’t know what to do with her. She’d attempted to steal from him. He should just send her on her way.
“Then you’ll let us leave.” Her eyes darted toward the door leading to the rest of the house. She planned to bolt at the first opportunity, like a petrified rabbit attempting to outwit a fox.
“I’ll make you a proposition.” What the fuck was he thinking?
She eyed him with skepticism. Her face was remarkable, with brows the same color as her hair gently arched above her large goddess eyes combined with her high cheekbones, pert nose upturned slightly at the tip, and a sensual mouth that left him aching for another sampling.
“I don’t know who you think I am, but I won’t sleep with you,” she spat like a fierce, angry kitten, taking swipes at his hand.
So defensive. What would it take to make her relax? What would it take to get her into his bed? He couldn’t believe he was even contemplating the cockamamie idea.
Jasper didn’t have a habit of propositioning women who were terrified of him. Although her snide comment had him fighting back a grin and assessing her with new eyes. She had a fair share of fire in her. He’d felt it when he held her in his arms. But even though life had knocked her down, she was a fighter. And Jasper respected the hell out of her for it.
Not to mention, she had a stellar body. The memory of her subtle curves plastered against him made his dick twitch. She was a little skinnier than his tastes normally ran, but he wouldn’t be averse to hosting her in his bed. In fact, the challenge she presented made her downright irresistible. And it had all become dull. Every time he visited The Eros Pit, the exclusive, members-only lifestyle club, to have his more exotic needs met, he was bored.
Not that the submissives were bad or unattractive and weren’t fun to scene with, it was simply that everyone and everything had lost its luster. When you know you can’t fall in love, that one thing that everyone else seemed to find, like his brother had with his wife, it leaves behind an ache in your chest. For some reason, he was wired differently. He loved women, but he’d never been in love. And he hungered to feel this woman’s fire. After that one brief taste of her passion, he’d bet she was a wildcat in bed. “I have something else in mind.”
“Like?”
The kiss fried his brain. It was the only explanation for why he was contemplating this path, let alone putting it into words. But he had his own agenda too—getting his mum off his back. “Marry me. It’ll be in name only, of course. Because, lass, it’s clear that you need money. I’ve got plenty. I’ll give you the money you need for your daughter and the protection of my name.”
She shook her head no. Then glanced at the door again before responding, “You’re crazy. You don’t even know me.”
No, he didn’t know her. And this was likely the dumbest move he had ever made. But she might solve a problem he couldn’t seem to escape. While he might help her out of a tight situation financially. “I know you’re running from something or someone. Tell me who’s after you.”
“My ex. He’ll hurt us if he finds us.”
Anger simmered inside him. He figured it was something along those lines, but hearing her confirm it settled his uneasiness over his proposal. Her fear hadn’t been an act. “Do you have passports for you and your daughter?”
“No,” she snorted and rolled her eyes.
He wanted to applaud her bravado and hid his smile. “Then marry me. We can stay at my cabin. It’s in the mountains beyond Denver, where it’s unlikely he’ll find you. And while we’re there, I can have my cousin facilitate passports for you and your daughter with expedited service. Once we have those passports, we’ll head to my home in Scotland, where I can promise you this ex of yours will never find you.”
What would his mum say if he brought home a wife and stepdaughter? Likely, when was he going to father his own offspring with his new bride? His mum was relentless with seeing her sons married off and producing the next generation of Campbells.
