Runaway Heiress. Jennifer Morey
his arms. She put her hand on his arm to steady herself. The contact sent a river of shivering tickles up her arm and through her core. She met his eyes, impossibly blue, and again couldn’t look away.
“You think your father drove people into destitution?” He found his aplomb before her.
She lowered her hand but he kept his on her waist. It was distracting. Then she went back in time. “He was a tyrant to his employees and looked down at the lower-earning personnel. He treated his secretary horribly. He taught me that the underprivileged were beneath us, beneath anyone with money and in positions of power. But the older I grew, the more I realized how wrong that way of thinking is. Lording over people who have less isn’t the way to improve society. Encouraging people gives them inspiration and inspiration leads to good, happy productivity. If people thrive the company thrives. People like that are able and willing to contribute more to their community. If you oppress them, they only give what is required because they’re afraid to step out of those boundaries. Do as told and that’s all. Don’t contribute because contributing may lead to more oppression.” She ran her hands through the surface of the water. “I believe the key to real success is through positive reinforcement. You don’t beat people down by taking away their freedom in the workplace, giving orders and constantly reminding them their place is beneath you. I hated my father for being that kind of man. He obtained his wealth working others like slaves to his dream, not giving a rat about how much they suffered or how unhappy they were, like the privilege of working for him was a gift to be worshipped. I despise supremacists because of him and the example he made. I often wonder if he would have still earned his billions if he’d have been generous and kind and humble, rather than the selfish bully he was.”
Not enjoying the memories, she slipped away from his arm and walked through the water to the stairs, taking them slowly and then picking up the towel the maid had left for her. She wrapped it around her and went to the Jacuzzi. The maid had also turned that on. There was no easy way in.
“Let me help you.” Jasper climbed in ahead of her and put his hand on her waist. Gently he helped her down onto the seat and then the floor of the tub.
She sat, feeling weary but the warmth worked like a soothing balm. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
“You have very strong feelings about your father,” Jasper said.
“Let’s not talk about him anymore.” Thinking about her father made her feel lousy. “What about you?”
“Me?”
She kept her eyes closed. “Your family. I bet they’re a lot different than mine.” They probably hadn’t forced him to do a job he didn’t like.
“Both my parents live in Toledo, Michigan. I grew up there. Me and a brother and three sisters.”
She lifted her head in amazement. Such a large family. What would that have been like? She’d been an only child. “Are you close to them?”
“We talk on occasion. I see them on the holidays.” He had a fond glint to his eyes that spoke more than his few words. He was close to them.
“How did you end up becoming a detective?” Had he dreamed as a boy and followed them in adulthood? She wished she’d have had the opportunity to explore her own dreams.
“Video games, books and crime series. I wanted to be a hero.” He grinned, a sexy masculine slide of his mouth. Then he stretched his muscular arms out along the edge of the Jacuzzi, momentarily distracting her.
In a way, she’d wanted to be a heroine. She hadn’t been allowed working for her father.
“I was also a hyperactive kid,” he said. “Everything interested me. I had to keep absorbing new things. Experiencing things. Sports. Places. Learning and analyzing. That’s where the crime investigations came in. I couldn’t make a living traveling or rock climbing so I went to a police academy and worked my way up to SWAT. That got old, though. I wanted to use my brain more.”
“And now here you are, a detective.”
“Yes. I worked in Detroit for several years before joining DAI.”
He seemed to like talking about what he did. He had pride in his expertise. “Detroit...”
“High crime. Failing economy. Exciting times.” He chuckled a little.
“You need excitement?”
“I can’t stand boredom.”
Did that translate into relationships? She didn’t know why she wondered. She didn’t know him well. Why would that matter? She took in his bare chest and no longer had to wonder. How long had it been since she’d been with a man? A long, long time. That’s why she’d joined the online site.
“How long will it take you to get bored at DAI?” she asked.
He spent a few seconds contemplating as though no one else had ever asked him before. Maybe no one had. “Actually, I think I found my match.”
Would he find his match in a woman? She wanted to ask but didn’t. She’d vowed never to put herself in a situation or relationship where she felt she had to work at pleasing someone else. Doing nice things out of happiness didn’t count. The key word was work. Slave. She’d grown up a slave to her father’s demands. No man would have her if she had to work too hard to please him. Was Jasper that kind of man?
He looked to be in his mid to upper thirties. Close to her age at thirty-five.
“Have you ever been married?” she asked and then wanted to kick herself. She didn’t need to know such a personal detail about him. Better if their relationship remained professional. Finding Bernie’s killer had to take top priority.
“No.” He got a faraway look, turning to gaze through the windows across the pool at the sunlight hitting the mountainside.
Heavy question.
“Serious girlfriend?” She couldn’t stop herself. He tempted her like warm caramel-drizzled brownies.
“I’ve had a couple of those.” He faced her again.
“Did they give up trying to keep you excited?” She didn’t mean to sound crass but she was afraid she did. When he didn’t respond, she was certain he’d taken it as an insult.
“I’m sorry. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of me. Blame it on my father’s blood coursing through my veins.” She smiled to ease the sting.
His mouth slid up into an answering grin. “It’s okay. I’ve just never thought of it that way before.”
Did he think she had a point? That wouldn’t be good news for him...or any woman who had the misfortune of falling in love with him. At least she knew early on. Nice to have a warning...
She stretched her right arm out along the top of the Jacuzzi and straightened her back, muscles pulling. She’d been shot just below her breast and every muscle in the vicinity protested. Shoulder. Chest. The fatigue had reached her head.
“I think I’ve had enough.” She moved to stand and slipped on the bottom of the tub. Going down, she landed back on the seat, the jolting movement causing sharp pain. The wound felt as though it tore apart.
Strong, gentle arms scooped her up.
“There you go again, getting ahead of yourself.”
She stared up at him, her hero. He made a good one. Without knowing him very well, she sensed an inner power about him, a toughness that didn’t come from the street. His dominating presence came from a barometer of right and wrong and he stood only for right.
She looped her arm over his shoulder as he carried her out of the tub, her fingers resting on the back of his neck. Her breast mashed against his hard bare chest, smooth olive skin sloping over the manly ridges. The pleasurable sight eased the intense ache that radiated from her healing wound. She returned her gaze to his face and saw he’d been busy admiring her the same way.
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