He knew exactly where they were—his advantage. He could pick off Jasper, take out the man with just a squeeze of his trigger finger.
One down, one to go.
So easy. All he had to do was wait.
The storm wouldn’t last forever. It never did.
Just. Wait.
Good thing he was a patient man, and one hell of a fine shot.
* * *
“WHY?” JASPER’S RUMBLING voice pulled Veronica from the light sleep that she’d slipped into for just a few moments.
She blinked, turned and found Jasper staring down at her. She smiled up at him, still feeling too good to let any inhibitions cloud her moment.
“You waited twenty-eight years to take a lover,” Jasper pressed. “Why the hell did you choose me?”
“How did you know I was twenty-eight?”
He growled. “Your brother must have told me your birthday.”
Her smile stretched a bit. He sure sounded stressed. But as for the waiting part... That was easy. “Because I’ve got good taste?”
He blinked at her. “You what?”
She laughed then, unable to help herself. “I wanted you, Jasper. There’s no big mystery there. I wanted you. I chose you.” As simple as that. Or, actually, maybe it was more complicated, but she didn’t want to examine her feelings too deeply just now. Couldn’t they just talk about desire?
Men and women wanted each other every day. They made love every day. Why were she and Jasper so different from everyone else?
We aren’t.
Just a man. And a woman.
Her fingers slid over his chest. Over the scars that crisscrossed his flesh. So much pain. So many battles. When she thought of all he’d endured, it made her heart ache.
His muscles were rock-hard beneath her touch. His flesh was so hot that her fingers almost felt singed. And, of course, she was drawn to the fire.
She rose and pressed a kiss to the slanting scar on his shoulder. He stiffened. She pressed another kiss to the jagged scar too close to his heart. One to the long scar that sliced across his stomach. With every kiss, he seemed to become even more tense.
“Why do you risk your life so much?” she asked quietly as she feathered another kiss over a scar that whispered of his pain. What are you trying to prove? But she wouldn’t ask that question. She’d already asked him enough questions that hurt.
His fingers curled around her arms. “Don’t.”
Was he telling her to stop kissing him? Or stop trying to know the man he was, beneath the scars and that sexy grin?
“You deserved better,” he gritted.
She shook her head and said what she knew to be true. “There isn’t anyone better than you.”
In a flash, she found herself on her back, crushed into the soft covers, with a very fierce Jasper over her. “You break through my control.”
Her heart raced as she held his gaze. “You don’t need control with me.”
“Yes.” Ragged. “I need it more with you than with anyone else.”
The words didn’t frighten her, but they did turn her on.