Page 33 of Marked for Obsession

“Come on.” Jax reached down and grabbed the two bags she’d hastily thrown together. “I’ll show you to your room.”

Following him down the hallway, Poppy thought of how she’d reacted to this same view earlier. Just a few hours before, she’d been enthralled by his muscles and fine, fine ass. She still felt her mouth water at the sight of him—front or back—but something was different, now.

Something had changed.

In a span of a few short hours, Jax Monroe had gone from the infuriatingly sexy P.I. to the man who’d taken another man’s life in order to save hers.

Poppy stopped and waited when he reached for the door at the end. As he opened it the rest of the way with his hip and juggled the two bags inside, she wondered how he was feeling.

Going off his outward appearance, he didn’t seem bothered in the least by the fact that he’d killed someone. Technically both he and Ivan had each made a life-ending shot. But she’d overheard the conversation between him and his brother when Detective King had first begun to question him.

Jax had openly and bluntly explained how he’d shot that man in the head a fraction of a second before Ivan shot him in the heart.

Two shots, both hitting their target with utter perfection. Two men ready and willing to kill for a woman they didn’t really know.

Poppy slid a quick glance in Jax’s direction and wondered…

Does that make you a hero or a villain?

“I just put clean sheets on the bed this morning, so it’s ready to go. There’s a bathroom through that door there”—he pointed to her right—“and I have fresh towels in the cabinet next to the sink.”

She looked toward the bathroom and then took in the space in front of her again.

Then it hit her.

“Is this your room?” Poppy turned to him. Surely he wasn’t giving herhisbed.

“Only bedroom in the place.” Jax nodded.

This is the only bedroom.

She turned back toward the bed. Only one bedroom meant only one bed. Her heartrate kicked up again, but this time for a whole other reason.

“If I stay in here, where will you sleep?”

“Couch.”

He shrugged as if it were no big deal. She’d seen the size of that couch. It was average, sure. But the man standing before her now was anything but.

“I can’t take your bed, Jax.” Poppy started for her bags. Reaching down, she started to grab one of the duffle’s nylon handles. “Just give me a pillow and a blanket, and I’ll be perfectly fine sleeping in the living room.”

“Leave it.” One of his large hands covered hers, halting her movements completely. A tiny gasp escaped before she could stop it. “Sorry.”

He pulled away as if her hand was on fire. For a second, there, it felt as if it were.

“You didn’t scare me.” She did her best to put his mind at ease.

Poppy knew that’s why he’d pulled away so quickly. He’d touched her, and she’d gasped. Not because she’d been scared.

Because his touch is absolutely electrifying.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” he growled as if his word was the law. Clearing his throat, he threw her off guard with an abrupt change in the subject. “What sounds good to eat? I can have Ivan pick up whatever you’d like.”

“Ivan gets you food?”

“Ivan does whatever I need him to.”

Including shooting a man on sight.

---