Page 53 of Wicked Attraction

“The things he said, about me fucking all the Ashbys sounded like they came straight from your mouth.”

“Ah fuck, Mo. I’m sorry this happened to you.” He slung an arm around my shoulder, and I stiffened for a moment before relaxing against him.

“Hulu, take that asshole to The Warehouse. I’ll meet you there after I get Mo settled.”

“Got it. Don’t do that shit again, Mo.”

I nodded at Hulu’s angry words, but I didn’t bother looking back because I still couldn’t see anything clearly.

Jasper kept his arm around me and guided me across the lobby, the sounds of slot machines and revelry in the background only highlighted the silence between us. Once we were inside the elevator to my condo, he sighed. “I’m an asshole, Mo, I know that. But I am not a fucking monster.”

I nodded, my head down.

Jasper lifted my chin and stared at me before he brushed a hand over my cheek. “You all right?”

“Just peachy,” I sighed. “He punched me in the face, kicked me in the chest, and I hit my head; otherwise, I’m grand. No need to worry about me.” I’d have the hotel doctor look me over when Jasper was gone.

“I came because I was worried,” he growled. “But you don’t look too sick to work.”

I shrugged. “Thanks. I just got beat up. I’m taking a few days off. I had a doctor’s appointment and errands I couldn’t take care of because I’m too tired after working eighteen-hour days at Midnight Mass and Lucky Lopez.”

“We need to get you to a doctor. Find out if you have a concussion and if the baby’s okay.”

His words were gruff, but I could hear the concern. Felt myself lean into that caring voice before I caught myself and took a step back.

“I’m fine, Jasper. The hotel doctor will look me over. Just help me to my room, and you can get back to business.”

His hands landed on my shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. “It wasn’t a request, Mo.”

“I’m off the clock, Jasper, which means you’re not my boss.”

He laughed, and the sound echoed as the elevator doors slid open on the penthouse floor.

“Haven’t you learned by now, Mo? I’m always the boss. Come on.” He hooked an arm around my waist and guided me down the hall to my condominium.

“My groceries.” The words limped out of my mouth, but it was the only thing I could think of with Jasper’s arms around me.

“It’s being taken care of.” His ominous words struck me as odd, and I stopped right in front of my door, digging deep in my purse for the keycard.

“What does that mean, Jasper? Be specific.” I had to see things because heat flared in his eyes before he banked them.

“It means they’re being loaded into my car as we speak. There’s room for them in my fridge.”

Oh no. I shook my head and put a hand on his chest. “I’m not going to Ashby Manor.” I should have been happy to finally get an invite, but I wanted to stay here in my own home. Relax. Heal.

“Yeah, you are. I’ll have a doctor meet us there to stitch you up and check you out. Pack a few things, and you’ll stay with me until we figure everything out.” Jasper used his typical commanding tone meant to avoid arguments, but this was my life. My freedom.

I let out a huff. “Don’t you own the freakin’ hospital? I’m sure one of your doctors can see me there.”

“I do own a hospital, and I’d like it to keep its accreditation, which meansmydoctors follow the rules, which will mean a visit by the cops.”

“Oh no,” I said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “You don’t want the guy who did this to me to go to jail? Gee, thanks.”

“He’s being taken care of, Mo.” His voice softened, and that caught me off guard.

“Whatever. Send your doctor here to stitch me up.” I held the card up to the sensor and pushed inside my place, kicking off my shoes and removing my purse as I progressed down the hall, exhausted and aching.

“Goddammit, Mo, can’t you ever do anything the easy way?”

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