Billionaire Unmasked(23)

“I’d deny it,” Jason answered ruthlessly. “Now that you’re here, we have some unfinished business to resolve.”

Hope broke her eyes away from Jason’s and moved to the kitchen. She dropped the marriage license onto the counter and used the solid stone surface for support. She needed to figure this out, create some distance between her and Jason.

How in the hell did I let myself become Hope Sutherland, no matter how much I’d had to drink?

“Why would you deny it?” She looked at his face again from across the room. “This is a huge no-brainer, something that happened by mistake. We need to fix it.”

He moved toward her with a savage grace that reminded her of a stalking, golden-haired lion. He placed a hand on each side of the cupboard, and effectively trapped her with his strong, muscular arms. “You know I want to fuck you, Hope. I think I made that abundantly clear last time we were together. But most of all, I don’t want you marrying a man who will make you miserable. We can fuck each other until we’re both satisfied, and then and only then, we’ll get this marriage annulled.”

“All of this, staying in a joke of a marriage, for just a screw?” Hope looked up at him, baffled and hurt by his atypical behavior. She couldn’t see anything in his eyes except calculated determination, and it infuriated her as much as it made heat spiral in her core. This wasn’t the Jason she knew. It was an entirely different part of him with which she’d never become acquainted. Nice to meet you, jackass. Now where did you put the real Jason Sutherland? “You can’t make me stay with you.”

“You think not?” he queried unemotionally. “What if I just tell your brothers that you’ve been lying to all of us for a very long time? How do you think they’ll feel about that?”

Jason knew. “You wouldn’t. They’d be hurt,” Hope exclaimed desperately. She wondered just how much he’d discovered. Obviously, he’d found out about her career, her portfolio more than telling. Dammit!

“Then why did you do it, Hope? Why? How do you think your family would feel if something had happened to you and they never even knew about your career? What if you just disappeared in some natural disaster and they never knew what happened to you? It would kill all of them,” Jason answered. Anger vibrated in his voice. “I know it sure as hell would have haunted me for the rest of my damn life.”

“I don’t understand why it would have bothered you at all. Why is this any of your business? We aren’t friends anymore. We had an…encounter at the holidays, but that’s all it was. I grew up a long time ago. I don’t need your protection,” she huffed, pushing furiously against his rock-solid chest. Apparently, he was angry, but she didn’t appreciate his attempts at blackmail.

However, she couldn’t let him tell her brothers. They’d be devastated that she hadn’t shared her real life with them, but it was impossible for her to do that. They would tie her down, follow her constantly if they knew she was in danger, put her safety ahead of her anger at them. She couldn’t do her job that way. Unfortunately, they’d also discover that she’d lied to them, and she loved her brothers more than anything. Lying to them had put a distance between her and her siblings that made her heart ache. But she hadn’t seen any other way. After her stifling childhood, she’d needed to be free to pursue her own career, just like Dante had done when he’d become a homicide detective. However, being the youngest and only female in the family, her siblings did the overprotective older brother routine to perfection. They all had the money to have her watched constantly, and she’d never be able to bear that.

“I’m making it my business, Peaches,” he told her gutturally. His hands came up to frame her face as his mouth descended on hers.

Peaches? He hadn’t called her that since she was a child, when he told her that the reddish orange highlights in her hair reminded him of ripe peaches. She hadn’t minded so much when she was younger and she’d needed a boost to her ego. He’d told her that ripe peaches were a good thing, and that her hair was unique. Now, the childhood nickname was a mockery coming from his mouth rather than the comforting epithet it had been to her when she was a girl.

“Don’t call me that—” Her words were cut off as his mouth claimed hers in a demanding, furious embrace that almost immediately made her capitulate. She breathed in the now familiar, masculine scent of him. He tasted like mint, rich coffee, and pure carnal lust. His tongue speared through her lips, commanded her compliance.