Stealing His Heart(30)

She blinked. “Who asked you to try in the first place?”

“No one. I did it because I had fond memories of you. And now, I have even more.” His gaze dipped down to her mouth, then shot back up. He shook his head slightly and let go of her, lurching back as if he hadn’t wanted to touch her in the first place. “So get your pretty little ass dressed before I do it for you, and put that brain into overdrive so you can remember what you did.”

She closed her fists at her sides, her body stiff. A part of her wanted to help him, to give him the answers he needed, but she couldn’t. She’d spent her entire life helping people like her clients get their rightful heirlooms back. Getting revenge on the bad guys, like the man who had killed her parents, and Jake’s foster father.

She couldn’t turn her back on her life’s work.

Not even to save herself.

“Wear something that covers more skin than last night.” He walked toward the door. His stride was purposeful, but she noticed his limp. Had last night taken a toll on him, physically? She’d seen the scars, and now knew the extent of his injuries a little better. He’d probably been in danger of losing his leg with a wound as serious as his. “I don’t want any other men seeing too much of your skin—not when you belong to me.”

The door shut behind him, and she blinked at it.

Wait a second, she didn’t belong to him.

She hadn’t agreed to that…had she? She hadn’t realized she would be expected to obey him outside of the bedroom. Only in it. If he thought he could boss her around all day long, he had another think coming. It was time for him to start asking her nicely.

Shaking her head, she opened her suitcase and pulled out her shortest skirt and a tight silk blouse. Muttering under her breath, she hopped in the shower that was connected to Jake’s room. Afterward, as she rolled black thigh-highs up her leg, she planned how best to appear truly stumped at this project.

By now, he knew her well enough. She’d have to lay it on thick enough to make it appear to be real, but not so thick that it was transparent.

She needed to make it seemingly genuine.

After taking five minutes to make her wavy brown hair a little less crazy, she applied some light makeup and stepped into a pair of red pumps. As she studied her reflection, something caught her attention on the top of the dresser.

Reaching over, she grabbed the picture of Jake.

In the photo, he wore a pair of shorts and nothing else. He didn’t have any scars on his leg, so it must have been before that. His arm was thrown around his sister, Christine, and they were both smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

They seemed young. Innocent. Happy.

It was the Jake she’d once known. The Jake she was trying so hard to bring back to life…before he tossed her in jail. How ironic was it that she was trying to save him, while he was trying to end her?

She stuffed the photograph into her bag and headed down the stairs. He waited at the bottom for her, a shoulder against the wall. The pose was meant to be casual, but he kept the bulk of his weight off of his injured leg. There was nothing casual about it. It was calculated.

His gaze ran over her, his brows lowering. “That is not what I requested you wear. Go change.”

“Life’s full of disappointments.” She headed for the door. “You’d best get used to it.”

“I’m well aware of this fact.” He snatched her arm as she passed, his touch unbreakable but light. He behaved as if they were talking about the weather instead of bossing her around about her clothing. “But if you wear that, I’m not responsible for how hungry I’ll be by the time I get to have you again. Or how I’ll react when I see other men staring at your sweet ass. Who do you think I’ll punish for that, huh?”

Her stomach hollowed out when she remembered exactly how he’d “punished” her—with pleasure. She wanted more. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

He spun her so her back pressed against the wall and boxed her in with his body. He touched her between her legs, cupping her core. She was embarrassingly wet already. “You have no idea what you’re going to get when you poke me with a stick, little girl. If I were you, I’d never provoke me again. You should keep your distance, and keep my hands off of you from now on.”

She swallowed. “Luckily for both of us, I’m not you. You don’t scare me.”

“God help us both, then.”

He kissed her, his fingers working over her core with the perfect amount of pressure. If he kept doing that, she’d come right here, in his foyer. She clung to his vest, her tongue dueling for dominance with his. There was no softness left in him anymore, despite his seemingly unaffected demeanor.