The Dangerous Jacob Wilde
“Didn’t you hear what I said? He was my friend. My God, you’re like all the rest, believing what you want to bel—”
Jake cursed, dragged Addison to her toes and kissed her.
Not gently.
Not tenderly.
His kiss was demanding and possessive, and yet so sweet it took her all of a heartbeat to respond to it. Her lips parted; her tongue slid against his. And when he took the kiss deeper, she put her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the feel of him against her.
“I’m sorry, Adoré,” he said. “I believe you. And even if you had loved him—”
“I did love him. Like a father. And he loved me like a daughter.”
Jake nodded. “Good,” he said thickly. “Because I don’t think I could handle his ghost haunting you and this godforsaken ranch.”
There was a silence. Then she gave a soft laugh.
“Jacob. That doesn’t even make sense.”
It made perfect sense to him. Or maybe not. Hadn’t he just told himself that he’d only met this woman a day ago? That he had no claim on her?
More to the point, he didn’t want a claim on her. On anybody.
Why would he, when he was moving on?
“Jake?”
“Yeah.” He expelled a long breath. Stick to the facts, he told himself. Facts were always safe. “So, what kind of guy was he?”
She smiled. “You’d have liked him. He was very down-to-earth.”
“Was he your boss?”
“A colleague, but a thousand times the lawyer I’ll ever be.”
“I’ll bet you’re Clarence Darrow in a skirt.”
She laughed.
“If I’m any good at all, it’s Charlie’s doing. He was my mentor.” She smiled. “I used to call him my hero.”
A muscled flickered in Jake’s temple.
“There are no such things as heroes,” he said, “except in fairy tales.”
Addison touched her hand to his face.
“You’re a hero,” she said softly.
“The hell I am. I did what I was trained to do.”
“Sometimes,” she said, even more softly, “doing what you’re trained to do is what heroism is all about.”
Jake snorted. “That’s media B.S.”
“No, it’s the truth.” She hesitated. “My father was a fireman.”
“Yeah, well, no question. Those guys are heroes.”