Chapter 13
Eliza
I felt the tingles from the wine I drank at dinner settle into my arms and legs with a soft, fluid numbness that eased away a large portion of my immediate tension.
It was lovely. It was easier to laugh, easier to be social.
I said things that felt good, things that I normally wouldn’t have ever said.
I think my mother could’ve used few glasses of wine in her life.
John, Jasper’s business associate, followed me around the conservatory, listening to me ramble about the different struggles I had with each flower bed.
A bit of discomfort began to settle around me when I caught him staring at my boobs.
I had thought the others were following behind us.
I tried to brush off my sudden unease. I just wasn’t ever in social situations and was starting to feel uncomfortable because I didn’t ever trust anyone.
It wasn’t a big deal. John seemed nice enough, and I didn’t think Jasper would’ve left us alone if there had been anything to worry about…
Actually that wasn’t true; sometimes I couldn’t decide if I thought Jasper wanted to choke me or kiss me—probably neither… maybe both.
John was flirting with me, and at first, it had been fun.
No one ever flirted with me. If I left right now and went to bed, this would still have been one of the most rebellious and exciting nights of my life, even if, to anyone else, it had been a simple meal of salmon and a glass of wine while listening to people speak about business.
For me, it had been a tiny step of rebellion.
Absurd, yes, being that I lived alone and could, in theory, make my own choices, but the thing is, it wasn’t that easy, and no one understood.
I’d never been disobedient. I’d never done anything wild or that I wasn’t supposed to do.
It caused too much backlash and too much chaos.
Chaos that hurt and was painful to carry long after the scars healed.
Chaos was my sister’s specialty. I was the one who took it.
The one that, at twenty-five, didn’t put up a fight when my mom ordered my groceries for delivery—if only so she would stop showing up at my house and throwing away all of the food I bought.
I didn’t fight when she did much of anything, too numb from all of the other things she’d done when I was younger, while she was training me to be silent and obedient.
But not tonight.
Jasper’s deep voice echoed in my head.
Eliza, do not eat that fish for the convenience of this meal unless it is something you want. Whatever you choose, choose it for you and no one else.
It was stupid, but Jasper’s words spoke to me about more than just fish.
Of course, I knew it was an easy thought to have when I was miles and miles away, in a manor high up a cliff and removed from my mother’s immediate vicinity, but no one had ever given me a choice before—in anything.
And for the first time in my life, I chose what I wanted.
I wanted the fish and the microplastics and the flirty evening in the conservatory surrounded by the evening sun and the almost-fixed flowers—except I had hoped my flirty evening with wine in my belly would have been with Jasper, not John.
John reminded me of every other guy I’d known in college.
He was decent-looking, and I appreciated his success, but that was it.
Everything else fell flat. He was a nice guy, with a nice-guy attitude, and someone I would typically be interested in, but for some reason I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about what other tattoos were on the canvas of Jasper’s body.
John was nice, but I wasn’t interested. Especially when I got the sense that he was looking for a quick, fun romp this evening, which made me nervous, and the mood turned awkward and uncomfortable.
Several times during the tour of the garden, he had come up behind me and tried to put his arms around my waist or nuzzle my neck, which I quickly stepped away from.
There was something slimy about him that made my skin crawl.
Admittedly, I wasn’t a huge fan of being touched in general, but this was different.
“We should probably get back to the others,” I finally said when his hands started to grow more confident.
“Come here,” he whispered, trying to pull me closer.
Out of nowhere, the ear-splitting crack of gunshots rang through the air, breaking the silence and causing me to leap and cover my ears.
They were so close that both John and I instinctively ducked.
There was a rickety creak, and the shadowed figure of Jasper suddenly appeared at the back door of the conservatory, still dressed in his fine black suit but now holding a shotgun, the barrel resting casually on his shoulder.
His face somehow looked menacing, even though his features were completely schooled; something completely unhinged and dangerous was dancing in his eyes.
The sight of him was terrifying and sexy all at once.
His eyes caught mine in a searching glance as though he was checking to see if I was all right.
After a second, he threw a cocky wink in my direction.
My stomach twisted again, this time for a much different reason, and I realized just how much my body liked the taste of danger that Jasper fed me.
The fear he pushed into my system vibrated until it turned into a sort of sensuous excitement.
There was a seductive shimmer between dread and longing that was so strong, it could’ve curled my toes.
The rush of being insanely attracted to him, while knowing he had the ability to harness his anger, to casually fire a gun in his own house, to intimidate…
It was a dangerous game my body was playing.
John put both of his hands up as though it were a robbery. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Jasper, I—”
Jasper cut him off. “I thought you might want to see what it was I wanted to use your plastic for, since I recalled you weren’t in that meeting; Omar was,” he said, devoid of any emotion. “Get outside. Now.”
His words sent a chill over my skin, little goose bumps rising everywhere. I couldn’t take my eyes off the hardness of his gaze. In that moment, I was suddenly sure he had killed Hester and Darius.
“Eliza, my friend.” He paused for a moment as if trying to read something on my face. “If you’d like to go to bed, please feel free to leave; the choice is yours.” Jasper took a step back, holding the door to the outside open and giving John a murderous stare.
I felt the excitement roll through me as Jasper’s fresh, aquatic cologne hit me.
“Let’s just calm down,” John said, walking out the door.
Jasper shut the door behind John and clicked the lock beneath the handle.
My heart slammed against my chest as Jasper prowled toward where I stood, frozen and shaking.
The scent of oil and steel was a contrast to the earthy undertone of the space the closer he got to me.
I’d never been that close to a gun before—at least one that I could see.
I knew Jasper kept a small gun on him. I’d seen him tuck it away in the holster on the inside of his waistband, but I’d never thought about how close I was to it, not like I was now.
Controlled, confident violence poured off him.
Was there a time he hadn’t been in such control of that violence?
As if he could see my thoughts playing out, his mahogany eyes hardened, and the corner of his mouth curled slightly.
“Go on. Ask.” His jaw shifted and he swallowed. “I heard you’ve been asking my staff about me,” he said with cool detachment, though his eyes implied anything but.
My breathing sped up, and I was unable to pull my eyes from his thick throat back up to his eyes. Sowerby must have told him I was asking about him. He took a step closer. I had room to back up…but I didn’t—at least not until he took another step forward and shifted the gun on his shoulder.
Every one of my well-trained nerves urged me to back away from him. And I did…until my back hit the large boulder in the center-back flower bed near the water feature.
“Did you kill them?” I blurted, my voice hardly louder than a whisper. I was so confused about the letter, the ghost...and Jasper.
Jasper blinked once. No outrage. Just flashed a slow, cruel smile of white teeth before clearing the little space that was between us and towering over me until there was only a few inches between our faces, the hand not balancing the gun on his shoulder moving to the rock by my face as he bracketed me in.
“Does it matter?” His warm breath curled around my ear and neck, and I had to pinch my eyes closed and force my knees to not buckle.
My heart pounded in my chest like angry, rhythmic thunder.
This should have terrified me. It did. But in spite of all of that, every inch of my skin tingled with excitement.
His powerful thigh pressed against mine, sending an awareness through my lower body that started to ache in sync with my heartbeat.
The heat from his body pressed through the fabric of my clothes and into my sensitive skin, causing a shiver that only made me want to press closer to him.
His thumb moved from the rock and ghosted across the corner of my jaw. Down my neck. “You think I’m a monster.”
“I think you want me to,” I answered. My eyes moved to the gun, then to the tattoos covering his hand.
He licked his lips. I could feel the pressure of his eyes on my own lips. “Then why are you still here?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I told him the truth. “Because I want to believe you didn’t.”
He leaned in, his mouth at my throat. As he spoke, I felt the light touches of his lips against my skin. “But you’re still afraid I did. That’s what makes this so fucking hot, isn’t it?”
I didn’t move. I didn’t even swallow. My whole body pulsed—with guilt and longing. It was out now, the unspoken bits between us.