He could hardly be any more different from her father.
“Your father loved your mother,” she guessed.
“Too much.” He shifted a little behind her. “Of course, there’s no telling if it would have persisted had she lived.”
But Nia had heard something in his voice. A sort of wonder at witnessing true love—not the romantic, temporary attraction that faded, but something everlasting and magical.
Had she ever seen it? Would she have recognized it if she had?
“I’ve read books,” Nia said. “Books that gave me grand ideas for who I might marry, until I realized that my father would choose my husband.”
“And look how that turned out…” Jasper chuckled.
Jasper had witnessed love between his parents, and yet he wasn’t looking forward to marriage. He thought his father had loved too much.
“It will be my responsibility to ensure you that you wish to say yes.”
The words were beginning to haunt her. She’d asked him how he would do that, and he’d demonstrated that magical tension. She’d not imagined it. It had been a near-tangible thing.
She inhaled. Even after being in the rain, his scent tantalized her. Made up of leather and musk tones, the blend would forever be uniquely Jasper.
And then, while staring at her hands on his, Nia tested the tension by drawing a lazy circle with one finger.
The Convincing Commences
Jasper stiffened.
Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? For years, he’d existed happily, escaping matchmaking mamas and ambitious widows with ease.
And then one morning, along came Lady Gardenia—a lady made up of more contradictions than he could count. She’d required no time at all to shatter the belief that he had any control over his well-ordered life.
“It’s still there,” she said.
That unique magic between a man and a woman.
Jasper did not need her to elaborate.
“Yes.” Along with a raging erection that he’d struggled to keep under control.
He might be known as the Piccadilly Player, but Jasper wasn’t led by his cock. Not anymore.
He’d come by his nickname right out of school. His father had suggested marriage, and instead, Jasper had acted out his own personal rebellion. He’d considered himself the ultimate lady’s man, rakish and uncatchable, but in reality, he’d been reckless. And upon carrying on with one particular young woman who he had mistakenly assumed to be a working girl, he’d very nearly been forced into a leg shackle. It had been a trap, and he’d made a lucky escape. Having experienced such a close call had led him to change his ways.
Mostly.
And although the moniker had stuck, the lifestyle had not.
Older and wiser now, he kept to one mistress at a time and always emphasized from the start that the affair would be temporary. He liked women, in fact, he loved women, of all shapes, sizes, and ages, but he loved them as a collective, never individually.
And that worked for him. It was a philosophy that kept him from ever falling prey to the sort of women his father had married.
But for reasons he didn’t understand, with Nia relaxed against his chest, Jasper’s armor was slipping.
With the touch of a single finger, she might as well be the player.
“It’s exciting,” she said. There was no missing the breathlessness in her voice.
Add yet another contradiction.
