Page 71 of Sinner

“Wine?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

I nodded in appreciation. Tonight called for scotch. I headed to the bar on the other side of the kitchen, marveling in how fiercely hardheaded she was. She also had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes, which was another reason I’d been drawn to her. But those very eyes should have opened mine. Instead of reacting to the sadistic needs of my cock, I should have delved into why I felt so damn close to her.

I poured the drinks, somewhat surprised she was sitting in the same position as I’d left her, the icepack still being held against her eye.

As I handed her the glass, she did everything in her power to avoid our fingers touching again. I didn’t force the issue, but I noticed her hand was shaking. She took a sip and her uninjured eye closed as she did so.

The flash of distaste on her face brought a smile to mine. “Not to your liking?”

“It’s fine. Whatever is fine. I just… I don’t drink that much.”

“Well, you need something to calm your nerves.”

“It won’t matter if I have him arrested, will it?”

I swirled the liquid in my glass. “Not likely.”

“Why are men such assholes?”

“Because most were never taught to respect women and that they should be considered the most treasured creatures on this planet.”

My statement seemed to both annoy and amuse her. She dropped the icepack, cocking her pretty little head at me in obvious disdain. “You don’t seem to have an understanding of women, Mr. Blackwell. I’m not trying to be rude. I’m simply observant.”

“You’re many things, Ms. Turner, but rude isn’t one of them. You are opinionated and I appreciate that. You’ve also been reading too many tabloids about my personal life since I don’t have one.”

She snorted and took another sip. To my delight, she was one of the few people who could make and keep eye contact with me. Most men were terrified and most woman instantly submissive. Not this woman. She had more steel in her veins than almost anyone I knew.

“I’m very observant,” she countered. “What am I lying about?”

“Your identity.”

She didn’t appear startled about the fact I’d learned the truth. The only indication my discovery bothered her was by the tightness forming across her pursed lips. “I assume that means I’m out of the running for the job.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I… No, I’m more than qualified for the job.”

I couldn’t keep a smile off my face. “Yes, you are. In fact, I believe you’re the most qualified candidate who’s ever graced us with their resume. So, why did you lie to me?”

“You know why.”

“Because you’re the kind of strong woman who refuses to take any favors from your father, who happens to be one of my old friends.”

“Ex old friends and I knew you’d say that.”

“Your father and I had a falling out years ago. Why the charade after all this time?”

She wasn’t going to trust me enough to explain any further. “Because it’s what I needed to do for me.”

“Alright. In that case, I will overlook your deception.”

With that, she jumped off the island, tossing the ice pack aside. “My deception? I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwell, but you’re a real asshole.” She tossed the glass of scotch into my face and lunged toward me seconds later, her arm raised in preparation of slapping me.

She slipped on the liquid instead, the action propelling her toward me and into my arms. But not before she smacked her leg against the edge of a cabinet. The glass flew from her hand, pitching high in the air before coming down and shattering on the tile. Her yelp jerked at something more chivalrous in me. I caught her hand while sweeping my arm under her bottom, lifting and cradling her against me.

“Be careful, Jessica. In your fragile state, you could further hurt yourself. There’s glass everywhere.” I managed to place my drink on the counter behind me, which almost provided her with the perfect opportunity to escape.

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