Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Asher has never shown an interest in my personal life outside of manipulating things that would make me more convenient to him.
“Hope,” I answer cautiously, my head now turning so I can scrutinize him. “She’s five years old.”
“And is her last name the same as yours?”
I nod. “Madigan was my married name. I kept it in the divorce so Hope and I would have the same last name.”
His attention is solidly on the road where it should be, but he’s apparently intent on conversing. “You told me you don’t have custody because your husband was friends with the judge or something like that?”
The question is without an ounce of censure or condemnation in my shortcomings, but he sounds genuinely curious. I tell him the truth of it, trying to keep the bitterness in my voice to a minimum. “That’s the gist of it. I mean, he was the moneymaker in the family and I was a stay-at-home mom. I didn’t have much money to hire an attorney, not one who would have probably been able to get the judge moved off the case for bias or something. Apparently, the judge felt Hope would be better off with her father, who had a gorgeous mansion and a solid income, while I only have a twelfth-grade education and no real work experience.”
“That’s hardly fair,” he says.
“Understatement of the year,” I reply with a mirthless laugh. “But I did retain an attorney with the bonus you gave me, and he’ll file something with the court next month.”
“Why next month?”
“Because he says I need an established work history while making this nice salary you’re paying me as your housekeeper. He says thirty days should do it, or actually… he said sixty would be better, but I’m impatient.”
Asher is silent, and I figure he’s reached his quota of curiosity about his “employee”. My gaze goes back out to the street, and I realize he’s in my neighborhood.
“I have a good attorney if you need help. I have my own “ins” with lots of judges if you want me to do something.”
It takes effort not to gape at his generosity, but I manage a grateful smile. “I appreciate it, but I think the attorney I hired has it covered. I might need a statement from you saying I’m in your employ and that I’m an excellent worker.”
Asher grins, intent on lightening the mood. “That you are. In fact, I could tell the court what a hot fuck you are. How everyone in the club wants a taste of you, but how I’d kill any one of them if they so much as touched you.”
Laughing, I hitch myself up in the seat, seeing my house come into view. “You sound awful proprietary, Mr. Knight.”
“I take care of my possessions,” he replies smoothly, both a compliment and a putdown at the same time. He tries to lessen the sting by adding, “I treasure them.”
“Like your Chihuly?” I ask with a great deal of snark as he brings his car to a stop at the curb, putting it in park. “You got over that pretty fast.”
Something flashes across his face, a few emotions that are easy to read. Anger. Denial. Something else I can’t quite put my finger on. His words are not surprising. “I would get over you just as fast.”
I don’t expect the sharp stab of pain that hits me in the chest, but I’ve heard far worse from Nelson. Next time, I’ll be ready for his careless words and they’ll do nothing more than bounce off me, but just so he knows my backbone is strong, I tell him, “Good. We’re on the same page because I’d get over you easily, too. The money I’d surely miss, though.”
Asher’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing. “Then we’re agreed. This is nothing more than sex. Something that could be gotten anywhere.”
“Exactly,” I say, reaching for the handle to open the door. I swing my legs out, pull myself into a standing position, and slam the door shut.
I turn to step onto the curb, but yelp with surprise when I see Asher standing there. His expression is bland, no trace of anger. Instead, he takes me by the hand and leads me up the little sidewalk. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
There’s no controlling the forces of gravity, and my jaw drops open. I try to pull my hand away. “There’s no need.”
Asher’s grip tightens, but he doesn’t try to argue with me. Why should he when he’s stronger and I couldn’t pull my hand away now if I wanted to?
When we reach the top of the porch, Asher pulls open the screen door while I fish for my keys in my little black clutch purse. I give him my back while I unlock the door, but I can feel almost every inch of him right behind me. I can guarantee you the man isn’t angling for a goodnight kiss because this isn’t really a date, and besides… I sucked his cock earlier tonight. What more does he need?