Black Knight (A Black's Bandits Novel): HOT Heroes for Hire: Mercenaries Page 12

  Jared took a deep breath and broke the kiss, putting a little distance between their bodies. His throbbed with thwarted desire, but it was the right thing to do. He wasn’t a romantic but what if Libby was? If they had sex, what if she ascribed too much meaning to it?

  Jared nearly groaned with the thought of what he was giving up.

  But it was the right thing to do.

  Libby blinked up at him, her golden-brown eyes hazy with the same desire he felt coursing through his body.

  “We shouldn’t take this any farther,” he rasped, his throat tight.

  “Why not?”

  Leave it to Libby to ask a direct question. He should have known. She wasn’t the sort of person who failed to put voice to her thoughts.

  He removed her arms from his neck and stepped away, raking a hand through his hair. Tugging the ends as if that little bit of pain would bring him back to his senses. His dick throbbed in protest.

  “Because it’s not fair to you.”

  She tilted her head. Folded her arms beneath her breasts, which was absolutely the wrong maneuver so far as he was concerned because it tightened her sweater and showed the outline of her nipples. Nipples that were tight little points. Nipples he wanted to suck while she moaned and begged for more.

  “How is it not fair to me, Jared? I’m afraid I’m not following your logic.”

  He flung himself onto the couch, feeling moody. She looked down at him like a queen surveying her realm. He was beginning to feel like an idiot instead of a gentleman.

  “You’ve lost your memory. How do you know you aren’t saving yourself for marriage?”

  Her mouth flattened for a second. “You’re right,” she finally said. “I don’t know that at all. But I do know how I feel right now, and maybe it’s high time I acted on the way I feel about something instead of letting outside influences dictate what I do. What if I’m saving myself for marriage for all the wrong reasons? Or what if I’ve had a bad experience and the me who knows who she is is afraid of having sex? What if this is an opportunity instead of a burden?”

  He hadn’t thought of that. Still didn’t make it right, though. Not when he knew himself so well. A few times buried inside her hot little body and he’d be ready to move on. He wasn’t in it for the long haul. And certainly not with a woman who talked so much he couldn’t get a moment’s quiet unless he went to another room and shut the door.

  He liked quiet. He liked books when he wasn’t fighting battles. Libby wasn’t the kind of woman who would settle for those things.

  And why was he thinking about what she’d settle for? He didn’t care. He wasn’t looking for forever. Sure, some of his friends had settled down when they hadn’t intended to but that didn’t mean he was going to. They were all different than him. Capable of more feeling. It was obvious when you looked at the relationships they had with their women. He wasn’t wired that way. He’d grown up with the worst example of a relationship possible. He didn’t know how to do normal, so he’d never tried. He wasn’t starting now.

  As if to prove it, he pushed back with words stripped bare. “But do you really know how you feel about meaningless sex? Because that’s all it would be, Libby. Fucking for the sake of getting off. Which I’m happy to do, believe me. I don’t know that you are, and pushing you in that direction when you can’t remember doesn’t seem like the right thing to do.”

  Her frown was almost frightening. She seemed… pissed off. Whoa.

  “Are you seriously suggesting that you think if we have sex I’ll fall instantly in love with you and will somehow turn into a lovesick stalker or something? Because that’s just insulting.”

  His temples were beginning to throb. Not with a headache necessarily, but with the effort of trying to be logical and thoughtful with a woman who seemed to be getting mad because he hadn’t done what he’d really wanted to do, which was fuck her until they were both hot and sweaty and so tired they couldn’t drag themselves out of bed for the rest of the night.

  Then he wanted to wake her up and do it all over again.

  “That’s not what I’m suggesting,” he growled. But he really was, wasn’t he? He didn’t want her getting emotionally attached. He didn’t want to hurt her when it ended, as it would. It always did. He wasn’t a long-term kind of guy. He couldn’t be because he wasn’t going to be like his father. Marrying a woman, having children, abusing everyone because he felt trapped, then leaving her to fend for herself and her kids while he started the cycle over with someone new.

  Jared had always intended to find his old man and kick his ass someday, but the bastard had taken that option off the table when he’d put a bullet through his own brain. The kindest thing he’d ever done for anyone, really, though it’d deprived Jared of the retribution he’d spent his childhood longing for.

  “Well it sure as heck sounded like it to me.” She pointed a finger at him. “If you don’t want to follow through, stop kissing me, Jared. Because when you kiss me—”

  Shit, she was going to cry. Her lip trembled and her eyes got big and he felt like the worst kind of asshole.

  But then she didn’t. She frowned harder than before, if that were possible. “When you kiss me, it feels good. I want more. I want to see what everything with you feels like, and I know that could be a mistake. But you know what? It’s my mistake to make. If you don’t want to have sex with me, fine. But don’t you dare tell me you’re doing it for me like I’m some kind of imbecile who can’t think for herself.”

  Holy shit.

  Jared blinked at the fire flashing in her eyes, at the way she stomped and then spun on her heel and marched away. When she reached the hallway, she stopped and spun back.

  “I would like to go into your study and look for a book to read. Do you mind?”

  He rose, his heart hammering a little bit and his skin tingling with the sizzle sparking off her. She’d basically told him off and dismissed him—and he wanted her even more than he had before. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “You’re done with Tolstoy?” he asked mildly, his pulse throbbing in places he tried not to notice.

  “Definitely done. He’s too depressing and life’s too short.”

  This woman did not beat around the bush. He liked that. “What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.”

  “Something not depressing. Something fun. A romance novel if you have it, though I’m guessing you don’t.”

  “Actually, I do. My mom liked to read Regency romances. I kept some of her favorites.”

  Libby’s jaw dropped open a fraction. She snapped it shut again. He felt compelled to explain.

  “She had signed copies. I couldn’t get rid of them.”

  “No. Of course not.”

  He walked past her—not an easy task when he wanted to push her against the wall and dominate her body with his—and into his study. He went over to one of the bookshelves and pointed at one of the lower shelves in the corner. “Here.”

  She trailed behind him, then stooped to read the titles. “Oh, these look fun,” she breathed.

  He’d asked his mom once why she read romances when she had so many classics she said she wanted to read. She’d told him, “They’re fun. They take me away from everyday life for a while.”

  He hadn’t quite understood it at the time, but having read a couple of them, he did now. You could count on a romance novel to end happily. Main characters didn’t tragically die after proclaiming their love. They also didn’t beat the shit out of their wives and kids. Not that he believed real life operated in perfect romance novel fashion, but if it made people happy, who was he to say otherwise?

  Jared watched Libby read the backs of a couple of books. He almost felt as if he’d gotten whiplash with the way she’d been angry only moments ago and now she was happily trying to find a book.

  Or maybe not happily. Maybe she was determined to pretend she wasn’t still upset.

  Jared closed his eyes for a second. He was bad at this because he�
�d never done it before. Never had a woman he was attracted to living in his house while he protected her from danger. When he spent time with women in the past, he’d known what the score was. So had they. It was about sex, not relationships—even if some of them had hoped for more.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Libby looked up at him, blinking behind her glasses. She looked like a librarian interrupted during shelving. Not that all librarians wore glasses. Hell, now he was stereotyping librarians—but he liked the fantasy of the sexy librarian. If he could get Libby into a pencil skirt before stripping it off her….

  “Thank you,” she said, and it took him a minute to remember what she was thanking him for.

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t make decisions for you. But it also doesn’t feel right to let things keep going when it feels like taking advantage of your memory lapse.”

  “Fair enough.” She selected a book and straightened. “But not knowing who you are and not knowing what you want are two entirely different things. I’m still a cognizant adult and I can make decisions about what I want. Remember that the next time you’re tempted to kiss me.”

  She sailed from the room like a queen. Jared could only stand there and try to figure out how she’d bested him when he’d been certain he was the one in the right.

  Apparently not.

  The next morning, Libby woke and dressed in jeans and a cream sweater. She picked up the romance novel—a delicious tale about a duke and a Regency miss—and carried it downstairs so she could exchange it for another one. Jared’s mom—Patricia was her name because the author had signed the book to her—had great taste in happy books.

  Despite her argument with Jared yesterday, she was in a good mood. It had taken awhile though. She’d gone up to her room, shut the door, and started reading. She’d only emerged when Jared called her to dinner, returning to finish the book—which she did around one this morning.

  She’d been angry and jumpy after the encounter with Jared—and horny, damn him—but the book helped. Well, right up to the point where the duke was an amazing lover and the author described in detail what he did to the rapturous heroine. Libby had been tempted to take off her clothes and go find Jared. Surely he wouldn’t refuse a naked woman asking for sex.

  Except she didn’t really know him, and he damned well might. Especially if he thought he was being noble. A knight in shining armor indeed.

  She walked into the kitchen to find him pouring water in the coffee pot. Apparently he hadn’t been up too long either. He threw her a glance.

  “Morning.”

  “Good morning,” she said, determined to be sunny. He had his back to her and she let her gaze slide down his muscular form. His shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and the finest ass she thought she’d ever seen in jeans. Not that she knew it for certain, but really, could there be a better ass than that one?

  She’d seen some hot men yesterday at the Cove, and there had been some fine asses. But Jared’s was finer in her estimation. He turned and she yanked her gaze to his face. What she really wanted was to peruse this side of him as thoroughly as she had the other.

  But he’d notice that.

  “What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked. “More reading? Perhaps a trek to the mailbox? Snowman building on the lido deck at two?”

  His eyebrows lifted. Then he laughed. “We can build a snowman if you want. I thought we’d head over to the Cove again. I need to talk with the guys. Maddy, Tallie, and Angie will be there too.”

  “Maddy, Tallie, and Angie?”

  “Maddy is Jace’s fiancée. Tallie is Brett’s—she’s the interior designer—and Angie works there. But she’s also engaged to Colt.”

  Libby couldn’t help the little bubble of excitement inside. People? Actual people she could talk to who didn’t have penises and didn’t think like people with penises? Oh, now that was very exciting! She literally couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked to another woman. The checkout lane at Target hadn’t really counted because that was polite chitchat.

  “When are we going?”

  “Two. Unless you’d rather build a snowman on the lido deck.”

  “Nope. The Cove sounds fun to me.”

  He nodded at the book she held. “Enjoying the story?”

  “I did. Finished it last night. I thought I’d get another one.”

  “Sure.”

  Libby frowned. “I wish I could have my cellphone. Ebooks,” she added. “I like changing the font size.”

  He grinned. “Another memory?”

  “I think so. Wow.” She didn’t think she was a power reader like Jared, but she was pretty sure she read more than a book a year. Especially if it was a romance. And if she didn’t, then she was going to correct that ASAP. Because that duke and his moves—whoa.

  He nodded. “Good. What do you want for breakfast?”

  Libby pretended to think. “Bacon with a side of bacon?”

  Jared snorted. “I was thinking pancakes.”

  She sighed dramatically. “Fine. If we must. Can I help?”

  He nodded as he pulled a bowl from a cabinet. Libby joined him at the counter and they made pancakes together like they’d been doing it every day for months. It was comfortable. And it wasn’t, since she was hyperaware of him. Of his raw masculinity and the way his tongue had felt stroking against hers. Not to mention the hard ridge of his penis riding against her abdomen in those rare moments he’d held her close while kissing her.

  He’d wanted her. She liked being wanted. She wondered who else had wanted her. How many lovers she’d had. Or even if she’d had any. She didn’t really think she was a twenty-five year old single career woman who was still a virgin, but stranger things had probably happened.

  The possibilities were endless—and frustrating.

  After breakfast, they cleaned up the dishes, then Libby plucked another book off Jared’s shelf and started to read. By the time they were ready to go to the Cove, she’d read half of it. She reluctantly put down the tale of an earl and his Regency miss to head for Jared’s truck.

  When they reached BDI’s building, she was surprised to discover she was nervous to meet the three women who would be there. What if they didn’t like her? What if they thought she was some kind of interloper?

  But nothing could be farther from the truth. All three women hugged her and pulled her over to a table against the wall. There was a long shadow box above the table. It had a long, thin length of metal pipe in it. The plaque said Angie with a lead pipe in the warehouse.

  Angie glanced up at it as she followed Libby’s eyes. Then she grinned. “You want to know what that’s all about, don’t you?”

  “I have to admit I’m pretty curious.”

  Angie shrugged as she exchanged looks with the other two women. “I, um, was being held hostage by some bad men. I knocked one out with that pipe. Then Colt and the guys were there, and I was safe.”

  “Wow. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “Thanks. But it worked out in the end. I got a new job and the man of my dreams.” Her gaze strayed to the tall, blond man who leaned against the bar and talked with Jared.

  “Oh, and he’s royalty,” Tallie said, waggling her eyebrows. She had the most fascinating eyes. One was blue and one was hazel. She’d explained that it was a condition called heterochromia and it didn’t affect her vision. Libby tried not to stare, but the woman was striking.

  “Really?” she squeaked at that bit of news.

  Angie laughed. “Well, not quite. But he has a title. In France. I guess it’s the equivalent of an English earl.”

  Maddy rolled her eyes, but it was lovingly done. “It’s definitely the equivalent of an earl and Angie knows it. She’s being modest since she’ll get a title too when she marries him.”

  Angie bumped shoulders with Maddy. It was obvious these two women were great friends. “Stop, Mads. She likes to tease me since I almost didn’t give Colt the time of day,” Angie explain
ed.

  Libby glanced over at the big man. “That seems like it would have been a serious mistake. Even without the title.”

  Maddy laughed. “Damn straight it would have been.”

  Angie nodded. “I had issues. Thankfully, I got over them.”

  Libby didn’t ask what kind of issues, though she wanted to. Instead, they talked about easy things like Maddy’s profession as an art appraiser, Tallie’s decorating business, and Angie’s genius with numbers and spreadsheets. Libby loved how friendly and inclusive the women were, but she hated that she couldn’t offer up anything about herself. They seemed to know it, too, and they didn’t ask awkward questions.

  Until Tallie leaned in and cut her eyes toward the group of men at the bar. “So what’s it been like living with Jared? Is he as serious at home as he always seems everywhere else?”

  Libby glanced over at him. He was engaged in conversation and not looking at her. She felt her skin go hot.

  “He’s, uh, pretty serious. He reads a lot.”

  “He does have a lot of books. He told me he wanted plenty of shelves when I was doing the design for his study and living room.” She shrugged. “I think books look good in a space, so I had no problem getting it done.”

  Maddy was studying Libby more closely than the other two. “You seem a little flushed, Libby. Do you need another water?”

  Libby hadn’t touched the water she had yet. “No, thanks. I’m fine. Just a bit warm.”

  “Jared took care of me,” Angie said. “When they brought me back here after I’d been held hostage. He made sure I was going to be okay. He’s a good guy.”

  “He is,” Libby said. “He found me freezing in the snow with a head wound and took care of me.”

  She wasn’t sure how much she could say to these women, so she didn’t mention that he’d killed two men who were coming after her and wounded a third. She’d been told not to talk about it, but she didn’t know if it applied to them or not. Best to assume it did.