Mastered by Malone (Haven, Texas 6)

“You tripped halfway down the stairs,” he interrupted her. “You could have broken a leg or an arm or hit your head or anything. This has to end.”

“What has to end?” she asked.

“This habit you have of getting yourself into trouble,” he snapped back at her. “Why the hell were you trying to carry your weight in linen down the stairs? You couldn’t see anything. You didn’t even see me coming up the stairs.”

“I thought I could get it all down in one go. And I tripped because my pants keep slipping down. And I don’t make it a habit of getting into trouble, you know. Do you think I wanted to fall? Do you think I want all these things happen to me?”

How could he go from kissing her to scolding her like a naughty teenager caught out after curfew?

He blew out a deep breath. “You need to take more care. No more carrying heavy things down the stairs. Got it?”

“This a new rule, is it?”

His jaw was tense as he glared down at her. “Yes. Another rule. And why are you even doing the washing? Your job is to cook. It’s not to clean my grandmother’s lamp. It’s not to hang out the washing. It’s not to wash all the linen. It’s to cook. And it’s to do as I tell you. I am in charge of your safety and I will get you to that damn trial in one piece, even if no one told me the biggest risk to you would be you.”

She looked up at him for a moment. All right, so obviously that kiss hadn’t meant much to him. Certainly it didn’t mean he cared about her.

She stood. Not her home. Not her family. She needed to remember that. “Fine. Sorry for overstepping my bounds. I’ll get out of your way.”

She got to the door when he called out to her.

“Yes?” She turned back to look at him. Maybe he was going to apologize for being a jerk. Miracles did happen, right?

“Your pants are slipping because you’ve lost weight. You need to eat more. You need clothes that fit better.”

“Is that it? Nothing else you want to add that you find lacking about me? Maybe my hair? Or my makeup?”

“You don’t wear any makeup.”

Awesome. She guessed he liked curvy girls who dressed with style and were made-up from the minute they got up until they went to bed. Not walking disasters who tripped over their own pants.

He moved over and sat at his desk. “If that’s all, I have work to do.”

Damn, he was an ass.

Alec walked over to his whiskey and poured a drink, taking a sip. At this rate, by the time the damn trial rolled around, he was going to be an alcoholic. His hand shook and he looked down at it in shock. After the things he’d seen and done, he thought it would take much more than this to make him tremble. To make his gut clench in fear. But seeing her stumble, watching her flying through the air, the worry that he wouldn’t make it up there in time to catch her, yeah, he’d realized he did have something to fear.

He feared failing to keep her safe.

And it wasn’t even the hit man who was the biggest threat to her health at this stage. It was her. He sat on the sofa and took a deep breath. She was going to be the death of him. He could still feel her lips against his, still had the taste of her in his mouth.

Fuck. What had he been thinking, kissing her? He knew as soon as he’d kissed her that it was the wrong move. But he’d been scared. Scared he wouldn’t be quick enough and she’d fall and hurt herself. Fear wasn’t so

mething he was used to, and he didn’t cope well with it.

He should probably apologize. He also needed her to stop staring at him like she wanted him to fuck her. His control had slipped, and he’d kissed her, if it happened again who knew how far things would go. So, instead of chasing after her and apologizing for being the world’s biggest ass, he sat on his sofa and sipped his whiskey, wishing like hell he’d never agreed to this in the first place.

6

Mia sat in the small living room she’d commandeered as her own. This house was just begging for a family to live in it. To have kids running around, filling up the eight bedrooms. For some reason it felt like the house was as lonely as she was.

It was crazy to feel alone when she could walk over to the bunkhouse and have plenty of company. It was poker night. She could join in. She had an open invitation. But she just didn’t think she could handle all of them right now and Jaret was with his girlfriend in town.

She wished she could call Mike. Her cousin was the only person she had left in her life. The only person who loved her. After her parents had died, she’d gone to live with her aunt and uncle. Her uncle had been away a lot and her aunt, well, calling her cold was an understatement. She’d always done her best to remind Mia that she was a burden. A responsibility. That she wasn’t family.

The only person who’d ever treated her like family was Mike. She’d often wondered how such a kind man had come from such a mean woman. Not that she’d ever said that to Mike.

She worried at her lower lip. Maybe she should ask Alec if she could call him. He never said she couldn’t call, just that she couldn’t do it without his permission.