Jardin's Gamble (Haven, Texas 9)

“Mr. Silvers.”

“Now, now, my dear. I rather think we’re on a first-name basis now, don’t you?” he said in that oily voice. “Call me Derrick, I insist.”

“Derrick,” she whispered. “How can I help you?”

“Hmm, how can you help me? Such an open-ended question.” He stepped toward her. “You can help me in lots of ways, Thea.”

Her breath came faster, panic making the room spin. Or maybe that was just because she hadn’t eaten in days. She saw movement in the doorway leading to the bedrooms and couldn’t believe she’d missed the hulking man standing there. Milo.

Shit. Shit.

“Did you like my roses, my dear?” He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from her face.

She forced herself to stay still. Not to shudder in disgust or push him away.

It was hard. Very hard.

“They were lovely. You needn’t have.”

He grasped hold of her chin. Oh, crap. Was he going to kiss her? Please don’t let him kiss her. She wasn’t sure she could fake that.

“Of course I had to. I’m courting you, after all. Doesn’t matter that by Saturday you’ll be mine.” He looked around with a sneer of disgust. “Of course, if you’d rather not wait you can come with me now. By tonight, you can be drinking champagne in my mansion. You’ll find being mine has a lot of perks, my dear. You won’t have to work, you’ll have all new clothes, plenty of good food, a mansion, staff at your beck and call.”

And all she had to do was sell her soul. Yep, sounded like a great bargain to her.

“W-what about my brothers?” she asked.

“Ah, yes, Ace and Keir.”

He knew their names. It sent goosebumps over her skin.

Of course he does, idiot. He knows where you work. He knows where you live.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“They’re important to you.”

“Yes.” She didn’t know if that was the right answer to give.

“We’ll look into boarding schools,” he said dismissively. “I will admit to being a greedy man and wanting you all to myself.”

Maybe some women found him charming. Jardin could be forceful. He could be arrogant. But he didn’t make her stomach roil in fear and horror.

“O-okay,” she managed to get out.

Then he leaned in and brushed his cold lips across hers.

Don’t gag. Don’t gag.

“You won’t come now?”

Her mind raced for a good excuse. “I . . . I need to talk to the boys. Get stuff packed up.”

Irritation filled his face. “You don’t need any of this shit. I told you I’d buy you all new stuff.”

“Yes, but the boys have things they will want to keep. Tomorrow. I can’t just spring this on them. It’s not fair.”

She waited for his anger, braced herself for it. Instead he just smiled and ran a thumb over her cheek. “I knew you’d make an excellent mother to my children. Until tomorrow then.”