by J. S. Scott
Without a word, Jason picked her up and carted her to the bathroom, lowered her feet gently to the floor before he exited and closed the door without a word.
Thank God!
Hope took care of her body’s urgent needs and managed to make it to the vanity, which she used to prop herself up as she washed her hands. Her head still spun. As she stood straight again, the room tilted.
A large, masculine arm popped through the door and dropped a modest nightgown into the bathroom. She stared at it, puddled on the floor, before she shakily sat herself on the toilet seat lid and reached for it. Taking off everything except her underwear, she lowered it over her head.
Her mouth as dry as the desert, she reached toward the vanity and grabbed one of the upside-down cups and filled it with water, not really caring whether the cup was clean or not. It was upside down, so she assumed it was unused. She drank the water slowly as she eyed the container full of packaged, new toothbrushes and the tube of toothpaste beside the sink. Putting one of them to use, she quickly cleaned her teeth, rinsed and then drank more water. Had she gotten sick? Right now, nothing made sense in her fuzzy brain except for the fact that she felt like crap.
Jason eased the door open, silently scooped her up, and took her back to the bed. After he handed her some pills that looked like ibuprofen, he gave her a bottle of Gatorade.
“Take those and have something to eat. You’ll feel better,” he said quietly.
She took the pills and swallowed them down with the sports drink, eying the tray in front of her dubiously. It was only a few slices of toast, but her stomach revolted at the thought of actually eating. “I don’t think I can eat,” she croaked. “Where are we?”
Jason reached for the toast, broke off a small piece, and held it to her mouth. “You need to get something in your stomach. Don’t you remember Vegas?”
Vegas.
Meeting up with Jason by accident.
Panic.
Drinks.
More panic.
More drinks.
She obediently opened her mouth and absently took the bite Jason offered, and tried to sort out all of her jumbled thoughts as she chewed. The memories were foggy now, but she remembered how nervous she’d been, afraid Jason would discover the truth. She’d used alcohol for liquid courage, something she’d never done before in her entire life. She was a light drinker, careful because her father had been a raging alcoholic. Jason ridiculously fed her by hand and she accepted another piece of toast distractedly.
After she swallowed, she asked hesitantly, “Am I sick?”
“Hangover,” Jason said mildly. “You were pretty wasted.”
She’d never had a hangover, never drank enough to experience one. Right then and there, she swore she’d never have another one. She felt as if she’d been chewed up and spit out of a giant meat grinder. “I don’t usually drink that much,” she whispered softly.
“Welcome to the world of excessive partying,” Jason answered mildly. “You need to go back to sleep. It’s the best thing for you right now.” He popped another piece of bread into her mouth.
Hope lifted her hand to indicate she’d had enough of the toast. Jason took the tray. “Finish the Gatorade. You’re probably dehydrated.” He left the bedroom, obviously to get rid of the tray.
Hope sipped slowly at the drink; her headache started to ease. As she looked around the mammoth, luxurious bedroom, she wondered what hotel he was staying at in Vegas. It was quite a place, and it didn’t have the feel of even an upscale hotel.
The clock next to her bed read around seven a.m. “My flight,” she murmured, alarmed. She had an early flight out of Vegas.
“Canceled,” Jason said gruffly as he strolled back into the bedroom, looking completely at ease with being nearly naked.
A guy like him doesn’t need to be self-conscious.
Jason was an earthbound Adonis, and just as overwhelmingly heart-stopping as the mythological figure was depicted to be.
“You canceled my flight?” she asked, astonished.
Jason replied ironically, “It certainly wasn’t looking like you were going to be on it. They don’t let excessively drunk people fly on commercial aircrafts,” he answered noncommittally. “Sleep, Hope.”
She drained the bottle of Gatorade and set it lightly on the nightstand, wishing she was certain she could make it to the kitchen to throw it in the trash, but she wasn’t positive she could walk that far. Her eyes were heavy, and her head still ached. “I feel miserable. I’m sorry you got stuck taking care of me.” She hated that she’d gotten so out of control that Jason had needed to babysit her. Apparently, she was staying with him, and he even slept in the same bed to watch out for her. Evidently, he didn’t bother with pajamas. Maybe he actually slept in the nude, and he was being considerate by donning his briefs. She swallowed nervously at that thought as she tried not to picture his incredible, naked body deliciously tangled up in sheets while he was sleeping.
Jason slid into the bed and pulled her compliant body against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.” He paused before he added teasingly, “Maybe you won’t snore this time.”
“Did I snore?” Hope was mortified.
“You did. But it’s kind of erotic,” he answered. “Sort of like a loud, purring cat.”
“I was drunk,” she answered, disgruntled. Her eyes drifted closed.
Jason’s soft chuckle was the last thing she heard before she floated back to sleep.
Hope woke up more aware of her surroundings, the ache in her head only a dull pain. Her nausea had calmed down and she was thirsty.
Jason’s side of the bed was empty, the indented pillow the only indication that she hadn’t had some wild dream about him being here earlier.
Three p.m.
The clock on the nightstand indicated that she’d slept the day away. “Holy shit,” she whispered, still disoriented. She must have been completely wasted, although she couldn’t remember how many drinks she’d had. Obviously too many! Her feet met the plush carpet as she slipped out of the bed, making her sigh quietly, nervously. How had she gotten herself so messed up? She went to the bathroom and drank some more water. As she entered the room again, she noticed her luggage stacked in a corner of the bedroom.
How did it get here? Had Jason needed to check her out of her room, and brought her and her luggage back to wherever he was staying?
She cringed as she saw her large portfolio next to her suitcase. Damning evidence. Was it possible he hadn’t noticed?
Hope startled as she felt a familiar sensation: her feline brushed against her bare legs as Daisy moved around Hope in a welcoming circle. “Daisy?” She picked up her cat automatically.
What. The. Hell?
She opened the bedroom door and looked around at what she belatedly realized was definitely no hotel suite. Petting Daisy nervously, she walked down the hall, to a spacious living room with a fireplace and wooden beams that spanned a tall, cathedral ceiling off to the left. To the right was a beautiful cook’s kitchen, with hanging copper pots and gleaming granite countertops.
“Incredible,” she murmured. How had Jason scored a place like this in Las Vegas, even if he was a billionaire? He had to be staying off the Strip or outside of the city.
“You okay?” Jason rumbled from a recliner in the living room.
Hope hadn’t seen him. She’d been too busy looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah. I think so.” He looked good enough to eat in a pair of jeans and a buttoned-down shirt that matched his glorious blue eyes. “What are you doing? Where are we?”
Jason stood. “I was waiting for you to wake up.” He tossed aside the laptop he’d been using and set it on the chair as he got up.
“I’m so sorry this happened. I never get drunk. I’m sorry you had to take care of me last night. I’ll just shower and get out of your way. I’ll catch the first flight I can get to Aspen.”
“Not just last night,” Jason infor
med her nonchalantly. “Hope, we met up two days ago at about this time.”
“T-Two days?” she stammered. Impossible. “Oh, God. I have to get back to Colorado.” She set Daisy on the floor shakily.
“You are back.” Jason moved across the room to stand in front of her.
“In Aspen?”
“Rocky Springs,” he answered abruptly.
Rocky Springs? Hope knew of the decadent, lush resort town, but she’d never been there. “Why am I here? Why is Daisy here?”
Jason shrugged. “My business was finished in Las Vegas. And the cat was brought here because I wasn’t sure if anyone was taking care of her because you were delayed. The Colters, the family who owns this property, are friends. I had some business to discuss with Tate Colter, so I brought you with me.”
She’d heard about the Colters. Everyone in Colorado knew about the obscenely rich family who owned just about everything in this area. “Okay.” Hope blew out a pensive breath. “That will make it easier, I guess. At least I’m back. I take it I have you to thank for bringing me back to Colorado.” He’d obviously hoisted her onto his private jet. She’d put him to enough trouble. It would be easy for her to get back to Aspen. “If you don’t mind, I’ll grab a shower and get out of your hair. I’m sure I can rent a car in town, but I might need a ride there.” She turned on her heel to retreat, mortified that she’d lost so much control that she didn’t remember two whole days out of her life.
She didn’t make it very far. Jason grabbed her by her upper arm and swung her back around. “You’re staying for a while,” he informed her, his face impassive.
“I can’t stay. I have obligations,” she said irritably, not happy with his bossy tone.
“You’re staying,” Jason repeated. “And we’re going to have a little talk. Then I’m taking you to bed and fucking you until you can’t think of anything else but me. I think we’ve ignored our attraction to each other for far too long.”
Hope gaped at him, stunned. “I’m leaving, and I’m not having sex with you.” She fumed. “I’m…engaged.”
“Another thing we need to talk about. Soon,” Jason said ominously.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she replied defensively.
I have to get away from him. Now.
He clasped both of her shoulders. “Exactly how much of our time in Vegas do you actually remember?”
What did that matter now? Obviously she’d gotten drunk enough to black out most of her return back to Colorado, and her recovery from her hangover from hell. “I remember seeing you. I remember going out for drinks. I don’t remember much after that,” she admitted, exasperated.
“Then you’ve forgotten a lot,” Jason informed her ominously. “There will be no other men. You’re not engaged to someone else. You’re already married. To me,” he finished fiercely. He took her left hand in his, entwined their fingers, and held the conjoined digits up to rest against his chest.
Hope gasped as her gaze landed on their entangled hands. The sparkle of the diamond on her finger twinkled mockingly back at her. Jason had a gold band on his left ring finger, and she sported an exquisite diamond ring that she’d been in too much of a fog to even notice earlier. “No.” She shook her head adamantly in horror.
“Yes,” Jason snapped back. “We’re married, Hope.”
“I can’t be married to you. I couldn’t have forgotten my own wedding.” Impossible!
He let go of her hand and it fell back to her side. Wordlessly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that he handed over to her.
Hope opened it frantically, looked at the marriage license as though it was a death sentence. She scanned the document and stopped at the signature at the bottom. It was shaky, but the signed name was hers, and she’d opted to use Jason’s last name as her married name. “Oh, God. This can’t be real.” She groaned.
“It’s very real. When I found it, I had the marriage checked out. It happened, Hope. The wedding is being recorded at the courthouse in Vegas,” Jason replied coolly.
“We actually said vows?”
“Apparently, we did,” he rumbled.
Hope’s head reeled, her body nearly motionless with shock as she looked up at Jason’s cold expression. His eyes bored into hers. “Were you drunk, too?” It had to be the only explanation. They’d both been out of their minds. “It’s all just a big mistake. We can have it annulled. We can tell them neither one of us were of sound mind at the time,” she told him breathlessly.
“I’d deny it,” Jason answered ruthlessly. “Now that you’re here, we have some unfinished business to resolve.”
Hope broke her eyes away from Jason’s and moved to the kitchen. She dropped the marriage license onto the counter and used the solid stone surface for support. She needed to figure this out, create some distance between her and Jason.
How in the hell did I let myself become Hope Sutherland, no matter how much I’d had to drink?
“Why would you deny it?” She looked at his face again from across the room. “This is a huge no-brainer, something that happened by mistake. We need to fix it.”
He moved toward her with a savage grace that reminded her of a stalking, golden-haired lion. He placed a hand on each side of the cupboard, and effectively trapped her with his strong, muscular arms. “You know I want to fuck you, Hope. I think I made that abundantly clear last time we were together. But most of all, I don’t want you marrying a man who will make you miserable. We can fuck each other until we’re both satisfied, and then and only then, we’ll get this marriage annulled.”
“All of this, staying in a joke of a marriage, for just a screw?” Hope looked up at him, baffled and hurt by his atypical behavior. She couldn’t see anything in his eyes except calculated determination, and it infuriated her as much as it made heat spiral in her core. This wasn’t the Jason she knew. It was an entirely different part of him with which she’d never become acquainted. Nice to meet you, jackass. Now where did you put the real Jason Sutherland? “You can’t make me stay with you.”
“You think not?” he queried unemotionally. “What if I just tell your brothers that you’ve been lying to all of us for a very long time? How do you think they’ll feel about that?”
Jason knew. “You wouldn’t. They’d be hurt,” Hope exclaimed desperately. She wondered just how much he’d discovered. Obviously, he’d found out about her career, her portfolio more than telling. Dammit!
“Then why did you do it, Hope? Why? How do you think your family would feel if something had happened to you and they never even knew about your career? What if you just disappeared in some natural disaster and they never knew what happened to you? It would kill all of them,” Jason answered. Anger vibrated in his voice. “I know it sure as hell would have haunted me for the rest of my damn life.”
“I don’t understand why it would have bothered you at all. Why is this any of your business? We aren’t friends anymore. We had an…encounter at the holidays, but that’s all it was. I grew up a long time ago. I don’t need your protection,” she huffed, pushing furiously against his rock-solid chest. Apparently, he was angry, but she didn’t appreciate his attempts at blackmail.
However, she couldn’t let him tell her brothers. They’d be devastated that she hadn’t shared her real life with them, but it was impossible for her to do that. They would tie her down, follow her constantly if they knew she was in danger, put her safety ahead of her anger at them. She couldn’t do her job that way. Unfortunately, they’d also discover that she’d lied to them, and she loved her brothers more than anything. Lying to them had put a distance between her and her siblings that made her heart ache. But she hadn’t seen any other way. After her stifling childhood, she’d needed to be free to pursue her own career, just like Dante had done when he’d become a homicide detective. However, being the youngest and only female in the family, her siblings did the overprotective older brother routine to perfection. They all had the money to have her watch
ed constantly, and she’d never be able to bear that.
“I’m making it my business, Peaches,” he told her gutturally. His hands came up to frame her face as his mouth descended on hers.
Peaches? He hadn’t called her that since she was a child, when he told her that the reddish orange highlights in her hair reminded him of ripe peaches. She hadn’t minded so much when she was younger and she’d needed a boost to her ego. He’d told her that ripe peaches were a good thing, and that her hair was unique. Now, the childhood nickname was a mockery coming from his mouth rather than the comforting epithet it had been to her when she was a girl.
“Don’t call me that—” Her words were cut off as his mouth claimed hers in a demanding, furious embrace that almost immediately made her capitulate. She breathed in the now familiar, masculine scent of him. He tasted like mint, rich coffee, and pure carnal lust. His tongue speared through her lips, commanded her compliance.
Don’t give in. He’s being a bully. Don’t give in.
Her treacherous nipples hardened against his chest, her longing suddenly stronger than her will to resist. She speared her hands into his fuck-me-now hair, fisted it and pulled his mouth harder against hers. Their mouths fused together, he ravaged her with every thrust of tongue. He pushed; she pushed right back.
Hope’s yearning grew, and she moaned into his mouth, wanting so much more than she could possibly get. She’d wanted him, wanted this for so very long. But she wasn’t able to give Jason what he wanted, even if she let him be a domineering bully, which she refused to do. Still, her body wanted, but what it really needed was a frustrating impossibility.
They broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. “Let go, Jason,” she told him firmly and pushed against his shoulders. “Let go.”
She wriggled out of his embrace as she swore she heard him whisper the word “never” softly. “I’m taking a shower and then I’m leaving.”
“Take a shower,” he rumbled. “And then we’ll eat and you’ll explain exactly why you felt it necessary to lie to everyone who cares about you. My threat wasn’t idle, Hope,” he warned her ominously.
