“Meant nothing,” he interrupted. “Why are you here? Haven’t you done enough?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, shocked by his tone. “I came here to apologize—”
“Come on, Tessa. Your father made it clear that you didn’t want a bodyguard in the first place. He said you could be … difficult. So, what? Was getting me into bed the easiest way to piss the senator off and get me pulled off the job? Or was it just for fun? Were you bored?”
“None of that is true,” she said, appalled.
“What happened that night shouldn’t have. I take full responsibility for that, but I won’t make the same mistake twice. You should go.”
His obviously low opinion of her hurt more than she imagined it would have. Did he hate himself that much for giving in to her? For wanting her?
“The way I remember it, you wanted me as much as I did you, Jonas.”
He paused a second too long before nodding shortly. “It was a momentary lapse. It happens sometimes when mostly naked women throw themselves at you,” he said unkindly.
“I see,” she said, stepping in and tracing her finger down his chest, feeling his heart slam under the hard wall of muscle, and her own heart thudding even harder. She was angry, hurt and intent on not being so easily dismissed.
He was perfect. His skin was deep brown from the summer sun, taut and warm with a sprinkling of dark hair that provided softness over the hard cords of muscle that flexed under her touch. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Her fingers played over the sculpted muscles she had only fantasized about.
His hands grabbed at the air, seeking and then finding her wrists, holding her away. A pulse throbbed in the base of his throat. He wasn’t unaffected by her at all.
“Stop, Tessa. No more games.”
“No, Jonas,” she said softly, not fighting his hold, but leaning in as she lifted her mouth to take his unsuspecting lips in a warm kiss. “No more games.”
He resisted, standing rigid, his mouth firm and unmoving, until she sighed against him and licked at his lower lip. She inhaled deeply, loving the manly scent of sandalwood, soap and sweat. “You make me crazy. You know it’s true.”
He cursed against her lips. His hands tightened on her wrists, but then let go and his arms banded around her and pulled her in, his mouth opening to hers, taking control, plundering and ravishing her in a hard, punishing kiss.
Tessa gave herself up to him, let him take his fill as she took hers. They parted a few moments later, both breathless.
“Is this what you want, Tessa?” he asked when he pulled back, and she paused before responding.
He was hard, his arousal clear under the towel he wore. Not immune to her, not completely.
Or was it how he said, that any man would respond this way?
“Not like this,” she said, seeing none of the warmth or desire in his face that had been there before.
He shook his head in disgust. “You know the thing that really ticks me off? That you would come here, intent on getting whatever it is you want, with no regard for the consequences to others. You don’t care who gets hurt, do you, as long as you can stick it to your old man.”
“I never did that. My father respects you, or he wouldn’t have sent you to guard me. And he and I don’t have that kind of relationship anymore.”
“Right. As if you couldn’t wait to rub what happened that night in his face. I’m the hired muscle, after all, not the guy he’d want you to end up with. That he sent me must have been icing on the cake.”
“He has no say in the matter, but I didn’t—”
“If you came here for more, forget it. I’d rather you don’t use me as a way to make that point to him.”
“What’s between us has nothing to do with my father,” she said, frustrated.
“There is no us.”
“There could be.”
“Not gonna happen,” he insisted stubbornly.
Tessa stepped back, stinging at his rejection, but refusing to accept that there wasn’t anything between them.
“Well, in case you decide to change your mind, you know where I am. But I wouldn’t wait forever, Jonas.”
She walked out, and he didn’t say another word.
2
3:00 p.m.
THE NURSE IN his ophthalmologist’s office had bumped against Jonas four times while showing him down the hall to the office, and then again in the office itself. She sounded cute and smelled nice, like jasmine and vanilla. She was also stacked, from what he could tell when she leaned past him as she’d opened the door.
As the door opened and the doctor came in, she leaned close and pushed a piece of paper into his hand, whispering, “Call me. Let’s have a drink sometime. I can show you some tips for getting around without your sight.”
“I’ll bet you can,” he’d said with a chuckle, but in truth it left him completely cold. All he could think of was Tessa, and cursed her again for her earlier visit.
He didn’t even know how she’d gotten his address, but he supposed a senator’s daughter had good resources. It paid to know people in powerful places—until you pissed them off.
“Hey, Doc,” he said to Dr. Matt Sanders, his eye specialist, whom he’d known in the Philadelphia business community and their basketball league for some time, though never as a patient.
“Jonas,” Matt acknowledged from somewhere to the right and stepped in closer. “I hope you don’t intend on answering my nurse’s invitation,” he said lightly, lifting one of Jonas’s eyelids to look.
Jonas didn’t pull back anymore, having gotten used to the closeness, as well as the poking and prodding around his eyes.
“Do you see anything? Flickers, shadows, flashes?” Doc Sanders asked.
“Nope, nothing,” Jonas said, trying to keep his voice level. “Why shouldn’t I call her?”
Matt chuckled lightly. “She’s trying to make me jealous. That’s why she waited until I was in here to slip you that note. Probably nothing written on it.”
“I see. You two are—”
“Jury is still out,” Matt said.
“So how does it look?”
“I’ll probably ask her out, see how work mixes with pleasure. I don’t want to lose her as my nurse. She’s very good.”
“I meant my eyes,” Jonas said dryly. “No worries, Matt. About your nurse, I mean. I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone right now,” he said. “She’s all yours.”
“Gee, thanks,” the doctor replied, poking at Jonas some more, going back and forth between shuffling papers and checking his eyes.
“Any headaches? Nausea?”
“Nothing notable.”
“Okay, well, it’s looking much better. The swelling is almost completely gone, but it’s the bruising that’s probably causing the ongoing problem. That can take some time. If there’s no progress in a few weeks, we’ll run more tests, see what’s up.”
Jonas sat perfectly still, but his hands turned cold. Matt’s voice was so neutral, that particular doctor tone that tried not to upset patients, but just made you all the more paranoid. Not that it took much these days.
“Do you mean this could be permanent?”