“It’s more than that.” Ben set the champagne on the counter and turned to face me. “It’s talent. It’s instinct. It would have never crossed my mind.”
I smiled. “It didn’t have to. That’s why you have me.”
“Well... I was hoping I would have you for a lot more than that.”
My smile vanished as he leaned forward with a seductive expression. Before I knew it, his lips were getting dangerously close to mine.
Guided by instinct, I planted my hands against his chest and shoved hard. He staggered back and stumbled over a large paint can, falling on his ass.
“What the—” He stared up at me, bewildered and embarrassed.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shouted, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, though his lips hadn’t actually touched mine.
His blue eyes turned from glassy to ice cold as he got to his feet and straightened his clothes.
“Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?”
“Hell, no! Whatever gave you that idea?”
“How about you flaunting your tits and bare legs around my house?” He gestured at my body. “What are you asking for, if not this?”
I was so outraged I couldn’t speak. When he’d tried to kiss me, I’d frozen for a moment, but then anger took over, and it kept growing with every word he uttered.
“What do you think is appropriate to wear when I’m doing this kind of work, Ben? A twenty-pound dress and a corset? Youaren’t even supposed to be here, and I sure as hell don’t have to justify my work clothing to you. I’m not wearing a damn negligée. I’m wearing shorts and a T-shirt, you chauvinistic prick! That’s what hardworking people wear when it’s over 100 degrees outside. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? You probably haven’t lifted anything heavier than your tiny dick in your entire privileged life, and you’re probably scared that even doing that might ruin your manicure.”
Without realizing it, I’d advanced toward him, and he’d backed away several steps. Fury had carried me this far, although after my heated monologue and several hours of hard physical work, the adrenaline was wearing off quickly. Suddenly, I realized how much bigger he was than me.
He must have seen it in my eyes, because he took a step forward. His eyes threw daggers as he spoke through gritted teeth.
“How dare you speak to me like that, you little bitch? I could ruin you, wipe you off the face of the earth. One word from me, and no one in this country will hire you to paint anything, including their doghouse.”
My short nails dug into my clenched fists. I stood my ground, but in the back of my mind I knew I had to get out of there. Now.
I kept my voice low and steady. “If you want to be the star of a sexual harassment trial, with your face plastered on every TV in the US, go ahead and start a war with me. I don’t have that much to lose. You do.”
I turned and walked rapidly to the door, keeping him in my peripheral vision. I knew this situation could turn dangerous in a fraction of a second. I’d been attacked by a big blond dude before, and I still had nightmares about it. Alex had left me with a concussion, a broken heart, and a compulsive need to take every self-defense class I could find. I knew how terrifyingit could be and how helpless most women would feel in this situation. I shouldn’t have lost my temper and insulted him. If Ben decided to physically attack me, he had a huge advantage. Luckily, I had my phone in my front pocket and a can of spray paint in my back one. I grabbed the can in my right hand, ready to give him a face full of it if he got close. He stayed where he was, as I rushed out of the house and into my truck.
I’d left the keys in the ignition. My hands shook so badly I had trouble starting the car, but I drove as fast as I could, needing distance between me and Ben McFarlane the Third. The gravity of the situation slowly seeped in. He could have raped me. Hell, if he’d had a worse temper, he could have hit me over the head with that champagne bottle, killed me, and paid one of his millions of minions to get rid of my body. During the confrontation, rage had driven me, but now I shook in fear, as well as fury.
When I was a safe distance away, I pulled over at a gas station and just sat there, hands clutching the steering wheel. I took several deep breaths, trying to stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. God, I hated crying! It made me feel like such a wuss; it stripped me of my tough façade, and left me bare and defenseless. I needed Sebastian. For once, I didn’t want to be the tough girl who’d never cried in front of her father. I needed to be the woman who could curl up in her lover’s arms to feel protected and safe.
I sniffed back my tears and reached for my phone. My fingers hurt from days of work. I groaned, realizing I’d left all my tools and supplies at Ben’s house. I had no idea how to retrieve them. I wasn’t sure he’d pay me for all the work I’d done the last couple of weeks. I could press charges against him, but what chance did I have to prove my case? He’d only tried to kiss me. It was true I’d felt in danger. Could I prove it and convince a jury? I didn’t think so. Ben had actually gotten hurt when I shoved him.
When it came down to it, he hadn’t laid a finger on me. He could claim I’d physically attacked him. Ben’s accusations rang over and over in my mind. Hadn’t I questioned the wisdom of working without a bra? Why? Because that’s what society had ingrained into my mind. In a world where women and men were supposed to be equal, it didn’t work that way. I would be accused of ‘asking for it’ because, while doing intense labor, I hadn’t worn a restrictive, unnecessary garment so as not to ignite the imagination of my perverted boss.
There was no legal case here. The only thing I could do was go home, calm down, and pray Ben would be too afraid of a sex scandal to make good on his promise to ruin me. As for the money he owed me, I wasn’t sure how I’d get that. We did have a legal contract, so I could sue him if it came to that.
How had I gotten myself into this mess? And how was I going to tell Sebastian, without having him go berserk and try to kill Ben, or at least beat the shit out of him?
As I stared dismally at the phone, it started to ring. I jolted, frowning at the unfamiliar number.
“Hello?” I answered suspiciously, thinking it might be Ben.
The voice on the other side was breathless and scared. “Jesse, it’s Janine. Sebastian had a motorcycle accident. Can you please come to Elmhurst Hospital? Please hurry!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jesse
