Strong Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #1)(24)

I sigh.

Until I get inside her, I don’t suppose that’s going to change.

“Good point.” We eat the rest of our breakfast in silence. When Muse finishes, wiping her mouth on her linen napkin, I ask, “Feel better?”

She nods. “Actually, I do. Thank you. I’ve never had a hangover like that before.”

“Are you a good girl, Muse Harper?”

She shrugs. “No, not really. I just usually stick to wine.”

“Red or white?”

“Red. Why?”

“Just curious. When this is over and I come to collect, I wanted to know what kind of wine to bring.”

“You bring wine when you collect your money?”

“I wasn’t talking about collecting money.”

The bloom of pink in her cheeks assures me that she knows exactly what I was talking about.





THIRTEEN


Muse

I’m a bundle of nerves by the time we reach Treeborn early the next afternoon. Being back on the familiar streets is both comforting and unnerving. As we near my father’s house, I reach into my purse for my sunglasses and the hat I brought. The sun is setting, but I still can’t risk being seen.

“If you’re going for incognito, you might want to pull all that red hair through the hole in your hat. It draws attention.”

When I was younger, I used to be very sensitive about my locks. Gingers don’t exactly have it easy, but I grew into being okay with it. “Are you making fun of my hair?” I ask teasingly.

Jasper glances over at me as I grab handfuls of red and wind it into a tail that I can pull through my cap. His eyes, as always, are unfathomable. “Not at all. I love your hair.”

I stop what I’m doing and stare. “You do?”

His comment is matter of fact. His expression is as unreadable as ever. But something about his words, words that he chooses carefully and doles out sparingly, pleases me right down to my toes.

“Very much,” is his short answer. Although it’s given when he’s already looking back at the road, that doesn’t lessen the impact. I tuck the compliment away into a pocket somewhere on the side of my heart, where it can warm me right on and on.

I try to act casual as I finish my disguise, but for some reason my fingers are shaking. This man . . . God! He just does something to me.

Jasper parks across the street from the Colonel’s brick ranch. We sit in the quiet as he looks around. What he’s searching for, I don’t know.

I slump down in the seat and angle my body toward Jasper when I see Millie, my father’s nosey neighbor, come out the front door with Eli, her springer spaniel. She usually walks him just before dark, which makes me think she must’ve noticed us parked here because it’s far too early for her to be out.

“Oh shit! Here comes the neighborhood watch committee,” I whisper.

“Does she have super powers?” Jasper asks in a hushed voice.

“Of course not. Why?”

“Then why are you whispering?”

“Because I’m scared. Why are you whispering?”

Jasper doesn’t respond because his eyes are focused on something just behind my head. I can almost picture Millie making her way across the street to us in her comfortable shoes and blindingly floral blouse, nose wrinkled in that annoying way she has.

“Here she comes,” he warns in his scratchy voice. For about ten seconds, my mind spins with what we could do other than just drive away, which would defeat the purpose of coming here in the first place. That’s as far as I get before my brain is scrambled, though. All thoughts flee my mind when Jasper reaches behind my head, grabs my ponytail and pulls me to him.

Our lips meet just before there’s a sharp knock on the passenger-side window right behind me. Jasper holds me still as he peers around at what I can only imagine is Millie’s disapproving face.

“Get lost, lady!” he calls without rolling down the glass.

“You can’t park here,” she declares in a voice that’s as pinched as her features.

“You don’t own the street,” he rebuts just before returning his attention to me, effectively dismissing Millie.

“I’ll call the police!”

Jasper ignores her and bends his head to mine again. Slowly this time, with our eyes locked until the moment our lips touch. This kiss is different from his first. That one said wanting me was an inconvenient truth. This one says having me is an inevitability.

His mouth is soft and coaxing, yet firm and demanding. It seduces. It devours. It tells me that he will not stop until I’m all his, until he is all that I can think about. He wants to consume me. And he’ll settle for nothing less.

When he releases me, he still holds my head, our faces only centimeters apart. His breathing is as heavy as mine, and his eyes are that dark whiskey color.

“I’m one sick bastard,” he mutters. Of all the things I might’ve expected him to say, that was nowhere close to any of them. His voice is both self-deprecating and remorseful. Before I can ask for an explanation (one he would undoubtedly refuse to give me) he’s pulling away.

He glances over my shoulder. “Okay, she just went in to call the cops. Give me ten minutes and pick me up on the street behind this one.”

He’s out the door and across the street before I can even process what he just said and act accordingly. Finally, once I collect myself a little, I climb across the console and into the driver’s seat.