“Oh, I can go on like this for days!” Cheerily Jasmine smacked his ass. It was a nice one, too. “You chauvinistic pighead, let me down now and thank you kindly!”
This time Cole’s laughter was a little less off tune. “You’re really nice.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. In the end, he let her down, though.
“I’m a very nice person,” Jasmine agreed as soon as she stood in front of him again. At her side, Chester was still totally stoked, jumping around, doing the play bow and all. “Look what you did to my dog. His poor little heart.”
Cole smirked, then he threw a tennis ball for Chester. It was a good idea—while playing catch the puppy could get rid of his excessive energy. Only why did Cole carry a tennis ball around? Before Jasmine could further think about it, he said, “Let’s get back to work. You’re totally right—the boss is a handful.”
♥♥♥
Chapter 7
BY EVENING, ALL three of them were totally exhausted—Chester from running around, Cole and Jasmine from clearing out some of the rooms on the first floor. The matter would have been a whole lot easier if it had been a house, not a freaking mansion with God knows how many wrecked rooms.
“You know what?” Jasmine asked, breathing heavily from the exertion. Instead of answering, Cole just looked at her. Typical.
“Before we renovate this place, you should get a security firm here—then there won’t be any vandalism anymore.” It would be a shame if they put so much work into his mansion and then everything was ruined again by some angry teens.
“I have an excellent alarm system,” he stated, not even blinking. Turning her head around, Jasmine stared up at him. Surely he meant he now had an excellent alarm system, right? After the teens had vandalized his place, he must have had it installed.
Because he didn’t say anything else, Jasmine kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want to pry. Still, sometimes he was a mystery to her. “Hungry?” she asked in a cheery tone, quickly changing the subject.
In answer, he gave a curt nod.
“Really, Mr. Ward, you need to talk a tiny bit more.” Exasperated, she threw her arms up in the air while rushing past him. He silently followed her into the kitchen. Shaking her head but smiling to herself, Jasmine began to search the cupboards for something to eat. Even though the teens had broken some of the cupboards, too, the kitchen was still functional. Despite not being a great cook, she preferred preparing a meal herself rather than buying a frozen something or a microwave meal. Also, she did know how to prepare a mean grilled cheese sandwich. After a hard day of work, that sounded just right!
Prickling as always, she felt Cole’s gaze on her, and for a moment Jasmine halted. Looking into his eyes, she told him, “Don’t get your hopes up; I’m not a great cook.”
“I am.” His honest few words stopped her in her tracks.
“What?”
“I can cook. Don’t be so shocked.” A small smile graced his lips. With his hips, he gently pushed her aside and went to work himself.
“Oh, this I want to see!” Excited, Jasmine jumped onto one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. Propping her elbows on top of the granite, she watched him intently.
“Don’t make this a big thing; it’s not.” Shaking his head, he took some vegetables out of the refrigerator.
“None of my former boyfriends could cook—this is a big thing. Like so big!” Wildly gesturing, she opened her arms wide to show a great distance.
“You’re cute when you’re being ridiculous.” He chuckled. The sound was such a new and oh-so-rare thing it somehow didn’t matter that he was making fun of her. All the same, she smiled like a little schoolgirl with a crush.
Oh shit.
As if Chester sensed her distress, he lifted his little head off his paws. As soon as they had entered the house, he’d lain down in his doggy bed. Obviously, he had tired himself out. Scrutinizing, he turned his head from one side to the other. French bulldogs had very large ears compared to the size of their heads. As a result, Chester was a sweet one-eared dog-bat. He barked once—never liking it when he couldn’t figure out what was wrong with his most loved human in the whole world.
“Everything’s okay, buddy,” Jasmine promised immediately, and Chester jumped to his feet. Head hanging low, butt wiggling excessively, he crossed the kitchen toward her.
“What’s up with him?” Cole asked, narrowing his eyes.
In order to pick the puppy up, Jasmine reached down. Putting Chester on her lap, the dog immediately began licking her hand in thanks. “Good boy,” she murmured to him. To Cole she said, “Nothing, he’s just very sensitive to human emotion.”
“So, what’s up with you?” The man was far too smart. Grumbling, Jasmine inwardly cursed herself for being so obvious.
“Nothing is up with me. I’m just tired.”
“I can’t imagine the flea-ball reacting so strongly to you being just tired.” Pointedly Cole raised an eyebrow. All the while he kept cutting vegetables, rummaging through his kitchen and putting a pan onto the stove. Damn, he really looked like he knew what he was doing.
“Don’t you call him flea-ball! I thought we were over that!” At her outrage, Chester licked her hand again, then he hid his face against her chest, too tired to care anymore. Like a baby, he fell asleep against her body only a few moments later. Such a sweet boy. Gently she stroked his little face, more calming herself than him.
“He peed on my shoes; what do you expect me to call him?” Was that humor glittering in his eyes? Was he joking with her?
“Chester did that on command!” Jasmine jumped to Chester’s defense.
Cole couldn’t hide his smile anymore, and he shook his head and said, “Dinner is ready.”
As gently as she could, in order not to wake him, Jasmine laid Chester back into his doggy bed. Afterward, she joined Cole, who had sat down on the floor of what once had been the dining room. Old habits die hard, she supposed. Why else hadn’t he sat down on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter or directly on the kitchen floor? Pressing a hand against her lips, she tried to hide her giggle.
Thanking him, she took the bowl from Cole, whereas he ate directly out of the pan. It wasn’t lack of class but lack of actual plates—the vandals had destroyed most of the flatware, too. Apart from all that, the food was still the best that Jasmine had ever tasted. If it was because Cole was such a good cook or because she was so damn hungry after working all day, she couldn’t say.
“It’s so good!” Moaning, she took another spoonful of the rice with a sweet and spicy paprika sauce.
“If you keep that up, I’ll need to take you right here on the floor.”
At his unexpected growl, Jasmine looked up in shock. Her eyes wide. “W-what?”
“You sigh like you’re having sex, not like you’re having a meal.” Again his intense, predatory stare was fixed solely on her. He’d long since finished his food, and apparently the last few minutes he’d simply observed her eating…or moaning like a sex kitten? Totally embarrassed, her cheeks flamed red.
“I…um…” Having no idea what to say, only senseless stuttering came out of her mouth.
Swiftly he leaned forward so that he needed to hold himself up on his hands pressed against the floor; his face was only inches from hers. He was so big, even in this position he towered over her. Slowly he bowed his head further down; she could feel his hot breath on her cheeks. Her own breathing quickened, up until the point their lips finally met and they were sharing air. Damn, the man really knew how to kiss. With him everything seemed to be more intense—no matter if it was just a glance, a kiss, or their bodies coming together between the sheets…or against the wall.
When he retreated the tiniest bit, Jasmine was breathless, her lips a little bruised from his hard taking and her mind foggy from wanting him. Cole Ward really should have come with a warning sign.
“I’ve got dessert,” he whispered against her lips.
The first thing that came to mind? “For
that to taste like dessert, you’ll need to eat lots and lots of pineapple.” Classy, Jasmine, real classy.
Initially he seemed dumbstruck, then suddenly he began laughing out loud, shaking his head. “Though I am open to the option, I really have dessert in the refrigerator—chocolate mousse.”
In a mixture of shame and wild giggling, Jasmine pressed a hand over her lips. “Well, I never say no to anything related to chocolate,” she murmured between laughs.
“Dirty, dirty mind you’ve got there,” Cole rumbled shortly before kissing her temple. He then got up to his feet, making his way back to the kitchen.
“It’s just that some men call a blowjob that, you know—dessert!” Jasmine called after him defensively. Grinning and with two containers of store-bought chocolate mousse in his left and two spoons in his right hand, he came back into the dining room. With crossed legs, he sat down beside her and gave Jasmine her share of dessert.
“Some men also call it a present when giving their woman lingerie.”
“And you don’t?” Jasmine raised her brows at him. The fact that he didn’t relate to those men only showed that he’d been married once. His wife probably had called him on his bullshit. Ha! A great woman!
“I know it’s a present for myself. Doesn’t mean I don’t like to give it from time to time.” He said it in such a dry tone, it took a while for Jasmine to realize what he’d said. Oh yes, Cole Ward did have a sense of humor, even though he didn’t show it so often or hid it behind his scowl.
The evening continued with the two of them joking around, having actual fun. Only a day ago, Jasmine would never have believed it if someone had told her she would have a good time with the stone-cold Mr. Ward. Yeah right. But it was actually happening. Eventually, they said good night in front of Jasmine’s door. After a more-gentle-than-passionate kiss, she almost invited Cole into her guest room. They both needed the sleep, though, the next day was going to be another hard day of work. So she bit her lower lip and watched him until he vanished behind the door to his bedroom.
♥♥♥
IN THE MIDDLE of the night, the door of Jasmine’s room creaked. Generally, she was a light sleeper, but when not in her own bed, it was even worse. Just like that, she was wide awake. Her whole body tensed, not moving a single limb.
Was it a burglar or one of the vandalizing kids coming back, not realizing that the mansion wasn’t empty anymore? A teen Jasmine could handle, but a criminal? What was she supposed to do? Blinking as unobtrusively as possible, she could make out a tall, dark figure in her doorway. Oh God, it was a burglar! A teen couldn’t be that big, right? Against her own will her body started shaking; hopefully the intruder didn’t notice. Perhaps, if he thought she was still sleeping, she could surprise him with an attack. Why hadn’t Chester been woken up by the man and warned her? What about Cole’s stupid alarm system?
Cole! Oh, thank God! He would hear her if she screamed for help, right? By now she was shaking really badly; her fists clenched the pillow, but it didn’t help much. Blinking again, Jasmine realized that the intruder had come much closer. In fact, he seemed to be coming directly toward her. She had already opened her mouth to scream when the moonlight, coming through the window, reached the man’s face.
Her poor racing heart skipped a beat out of relief. Jasmine didn’t have to call for Cole because he was already there. Before she could say anything, the mattress behind her gave way as his muscular build weighed down on it. In a second, his arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, dragging her backward flush against his front.
“You frightened the hell out of me!” Finally, Jasmine was able to speak again. “I thought you were an intruder or something!”
At her words, his arms tightened around her. Against her neck, she could feel his calm breathing, which helped in calming her, too. “I would have protected you.” His words were simple but contained such resolve—against all logic, she believed him instantly. Shortly after, he pressed kisses against her bare shoulder.
“Why are you here, Cole?” At least her shivering had stopped. Slowly the heat of his body crept onto hers, shooing away the cold fingers of fear. A heavy sigh left her lips; everything was okay now.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Behind her, Cole moved around a little until he found a comfortable position. By then one of his legs was entangled with both of hers, his right hand lay on her belly, the left on one of her breasts. Huh, a possessive one, wasn’t he?
The way he held her told Jasmine a lot about him. He was used to sleeping like this. While she didn’t want to be a cheap replacement for his wife, she also had to admit that it felt good, being held. Just to spite him, she, too, began moving around, seemingly searching for a comfortable position. Did men really buy that story, or did they know women enjoyed the feeling of being the reason for their boyfriend’s or husband’s desire? Silently smiling to herself, Jasmine only stopped moving when she felt Cole’s manhood hardening against her behind. Served him well for frightening her before.
“Sleep well, Cole,” she told him sweetly.
“Little devil,” he growled, but his kisses against her neck were tender.
Before Jasmine fell asleep again, a giggle left her lips. At least Cole had seen right through her little act. Or had his wife told him?
♥♥♥
Chapter 8
WHEN SHE WOKE the next morning, she was disoriented at first. The room still felt unfamiliar. After a few seconds, she recognized it, the fog left her brain, and all the memories were back. Something heavy was on top of her. Confused, she looked down at herself, only then remembering how Cole had entered her room in the middle of the night. His muscular arms were holding her tightly.
Peeking at the clock on the nightstand, Jasmine realized she’d woken earlier than her alarm was set for. Strangely, she felt well-rested. Shrugging to herself, she began wiggling her way out of Cole’s arms in order not to wake him. Apparently, he hadn’t been able to fall asleep before he’d entered her bed during the night. She decided she wanted to grant him a few more minutes of sleep, and on her way to the bathroom she turned off the alarm clock. When she was finished with her morning routine, she would wake Cole herself.
Afraid that the shower in the adjoining bathroom would be too loud, Jasmine chose to use Cole’s bathroom at the end of the hall. As soon as she’d opened the door to her room, a patiently waiting Chester greeted her. He must have been sitting directly in front of the door for God knows how long, looking at the wood and hoping his beloved human came out of there. “Hey there, buddy!” Jasmine whispered in greeting, quickly shutting the door behind her again. In the hallway, Chester immediately stood and did his cute butt-wiggle so hard, his whole body seemed to shake with it.
“You’re such a good boy,” Jasmine praised. The little French bulldog was a very loving pet; how on earth could anyone have thrown him away?
Reaching down, she began stroking him between his ears, or at least between one ear and the blank spot. “We’ll need to be quiet, okay? Cole is still sleeping,” Jasmine explained, though the little puppy most likely didn’t get the meaning of her words. Didn’t matter anyway, he was just happy to get his human’s attention. Seconds later he threw himself onto his back to get a good belly scratch.
Chuckling, Jasmine did him the favor. Apart from his bad start in life, she liked to think that he now had a pretty good time. She worked a lot, but whenever she was home, he got all the attention he wished for. Here at Cole’s mansion, it was even better because Jasmine could bring her dog to work. Taking the bathrobe, which she found in Cole’s bathroom, she threw it on. Surprisingly, she didn’t drown in it. Obviously, it wasn’t his but a woman’s gown. Unsure if she should take it off, she eventually decided to keep it on—only for the time needed to take Chester out and let him do his business in the yard.
With the puppy at her side, Jasmine hurried back down the hall and stairs. Why would Cole keep his wife’s bathrobe when she’d left him? Did he still miss her, or was it just
a gown he kept around for his female guests? The morning was pretty chilly, so she put her hands into the pockets of the robe. “Come on, buddy, do your thing,” she urged because Chester took his damn time. Wasn’t he freezing, too? “Hurry up, or you’ll get a cold.” Worried, she watched the little dog. French bulldogs only had short, thin fur. In winter, they needed to wear a dog jacket. It wasn’t that cold, but Jasmine could still see the sick puppy, whom he’d been only a few months ago, in front of her eyes.
After another five minutes, Chester finally had found a place which pleased him enough to release himself. By then, Jasmine was stepping from one foot to the other, keeping herself warm. “Come quickly,” she murmured when Chester ran past her back into the house. He was already waiting in front of his bowl when she entered the kitchen a few seconds later.
“You hungry, little man?” Her sweet, high-pitched voice made Chester run in a circle, excitedly trying to wag his tail but in reality, wiggling his butt. Giving him the sign to sit and wait, Jasmine took the dog food out of the cupboard she’d put it in shortly after her arrival at the mansion. Behind her, Chester waited—when it came to food, patience wasn’t his strong suit, though. Seemingly in slow motion, he began creeping over the floor. Only, when Jasmine turned her head around, he stopped. “I see you!” she exclaimed in amusement.
As soon as she was preparing his food, he again started creeping over the floor, trying to get as close to his bowl as he could. Behind her, she could hear a scratching sound. “Chester!” Her tone was stern but gentle. The noise stopped. Smiling to herself, she quickly put the dog food away again. From the tap, she added water into his bowl so that he had to slow down while eating. When she placed the bowl on the floor, she had mercy with the impatient puppy and gave him the sign that it was okay to eat. A blink of an eye later, Chester was already devouring his dog food.
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