Page 23 of Hidden With You

“Very young, very lovely dirt.”

I grin. “I knew you liked the view.” With a sigh, I move past him into the living area and go sit on the sofa. I glance at the other cushion, then up at him. He hesitates, then joins me, sitting far enough away that there’s no risk of accidental contact.

I slide toward him.

“Zelda. Don’t.”

I stop, then draw in a breath. “Here’s the thing,” I say. “I don’t believe in denying myself things that I want. I’ve had too much taken away from me. Now I fight for the things that matter to me.”

His mouth tugs into a grin. “You don’t know me well enough for me to matter.”

“Probably not. But I can’t help the way I feel. And I know you feel it, too.”

“I already told you I did.”

“So what’s the problem? Parts not working anymore?”

He actually laughs, which is good. I thought he might be pissed off.

“Trust me. Everything works fine.” I think I hear a sensual growl in his voice, but that might just be my wishful thinking. Even so, I scoot closer toward him on the sofa.

“Prove it.”

“Stop it. I told you we’re not going there. I’m a grownup, Zelda. Self-control comes with the package.”

“Do not patronize me,” I snap.

“I mean it. We’re not going to get involved.”

“Who said anything about involved?” I counter. “I’m talking about sex. I never get involved.”

I watch as his face goes dark. “Neither do I.”

There’s something chilling in his tone. “What happened?”

For a moment, I don’t think he’s going to answer me. When he does, he’s looking at the sofa cushion, not at me. “They died.”

They? I almost make a crack about a threesome, then I realize he’s talking about a family.

“Oh, Jasper. “You had a wife. A family.”

He nods. “A little girl.”

I close my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“They’re my obsession. My mission.”

I run his words through my head, trying to put them in the context of this conversation. “So you’re celibate?”

He laughs, and there’s genuine humor in the sound. “No. Not celibate. Not by a long shot.”

“Then we don’t have a problem.” I keep my voice teasing and bubbly in a deliberate attempt to lighten the moment. I think it works, because when he responds to me there’s a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Oh, we definitely do.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

He looks at me, all humor draining from his face. “Someone is threatening to kill you.”