No Turning Back (Man-Maid) (6 page)

“It’d be in your best interest to treat her right,” he warned before drinking the last of his beer and placing the bottle on a nearby table.

“Message received,” Jensen replied, then he pointed across the room. “She doesn’t strike me as the type of woman to appreciate any interference in her personal life, though.”

Axel’s gaze shot to hers, and he smiled. “She’ll live. Just know that if you hurt my baby sister, I’ll be a very unhappy camper.”

Curious, Jensen asked, “Now, why do I get the feeling there’s more to this than big brother issuing a warning? Has something happened to Marquetta before?” He narrowed his eyes. “Something I should know about?”

“That’s her business, and if she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.” Axel considered him one last time. Jensen figured he must have passed muster, because Axel’s face softened a fraction. “I will say this. Marquetta is a very loving person, and some men would take advantage of that.”

“Loving? So far, she threw me out and broke my toe.” He rubbed his jaw. “Not really sure why I’m standing here, to be honest.”

Axel shrugged. “She tends to hide her sensitive nature behind a wall. When you’ve been burned, that’s what happens.”

So that was why Marquetta was so standoffish. Some asshole had treated her badly, and she was determined never to let it happen again. Great. How was he supposed to get past that?

“Thanks for the insight,” Jensen said. “And you have my word that Marquetta will come to no harm.”

Before her brother could say more, Jensen crossed the room. He moved up behind Marquetta and stared at the man flirting with her. “Get lost, buddy,” Jensen said in a low, menacing tone. “The lady’s with me.”

The idiot with the too-perfect good looks stepped backward. “Uh, sure,” he muttered, then turned and walked off.

“Did you and my brother have a nice chat?” Marquetta’s sarcastic tone had the effect of water on a lit match. That quickly, his anger evaporated.

Jensen placed his hand on her shoulder, covering the spot where the stranger had touched. “He cares about you a great deal,” he answered. “If I had a sister, I’d be the same way.”

Marquetta frowned and peered down at her drink. “He and Gavin tend to forget that I’m a big girl now.”

“Gavin?” Jensen asked, more curious about her with each passing minute.

“My other brother.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s worse than Axel, really.”

He remembered the other guy from the shop, with the steely eyes and the linebacker build. Oh joy. “Wants to put you on a shelf and keep you safe from all the big, bad wolves, huh?”

Marquetta laughed. “Something like that.” Then she leaned closer and asked, “Are you a big, bad wolf, Jensen?”

One side of his mouth kicked upward. “Well, I have been known to howl at the moon a time or two.”

She shook her head as if trying to gather her thoughts. “I’m pretty sure my mother warned me about guys like you.”

“And did you always listen to your mom?”

“No, I didn’t always listen.”

“Sometimes it’s good to be a little naughty.”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “So, what do you do for a living, Jensen?”

Jensen had been distracted by the gorgeous sight of her breasts straining against the silky material of the dress, but her words caught his full attention. “Do you really want to know?”

“Of course. I barely know anything about you. Except for the fact that you can’t text and walk at the same time.”

He sat, then propped his chin on a fist. “I’m not normally so distracted.”

Marquetta twirled her index finger around the lip of the bottle. “I’m just glad I was there to keep you from walking out in front of that truck.”

“You and me both,” he said. A movement on the other side of Marquetta caught Jensen’s attention, momentarily distracting him from the conversation. When he caught a man staring at Marquetta, he had to grit his teeth against the need to shield her from view. “Can we go somewhere a little less hazardous to my hearing?” It was true that the deafening music was getting to him, but, more than that, Jensen wanted to get her alone. He was still very much aware of Marquetta’s brother across the room. He could feel the man’s watchful eyes. Besides, it wouldn’t be long before another horny jackass asked her to dance, and then he’d forget all his intentions of being a good boy and start kicking some ass.

She stiffened and stuck her nose higher in the air. “I like it here just fine.”

His smile was devoid of all humor as he bent toward her and said, “Yeah, well, I don’t, and if you want answers to your questions, then you’ll have to come with me.”

Her lips thinned in anger. “Fine.” Before he could take her hand, she evaded him and added, “But I’m not going home with you.”

He only stood and held out his hand to help her off the stool. She ignored it, of course, but he took her elbow anyway, needing the contact with her. “I promise not to ravish you,” he whispered into her ear. Then he looked around, noticing all the male attention she drew. “I’m just tired of the local yokels staring at your delectable ass…ets.”

Her eyes widened, as if she was genuinely surprised by the news. Hadn’t she noticed the attention? There was something very innocent about Marquetta, even though she appeared every inch the siren in the sexy dress and pumps. When she mentioned going for coffee instead, Jensen’s hope of taking her back to his place disintegrated.

“You don’t want dinner?” Jensen asked, not really caring about food. He just wanted to spend time with her.

“I’m not particularly hungry, to be honest. And the coffee shop is just down the street a little ways,” she said, her voice hopeful. “On the corner.”

Not quite what he had in mind, but it was better than the loud bar. “You’re sure it’s coffee you want?”

Marquetta laughed. “A cappuccino wasn’t what you were imagining, huh?”

He shook his head as his libido took a nosedive. Cappuccino? No. Feasting on her body in the quiet confines of his bedroom? Hell, yes. But if coffee put a smile on the woman’s face, then he’d suck it up and do what he had to do.

Ten minutes later, he was sitting in a cozy little café, sipping on a mug full of something hot with a hint of vanilla. It was a far cry from his usual Maxwell House, but if it got her out of the bar and away from the lecherous stares of the men inside, then yee-haw. “What is it about places like that crowded, noisy bar that makes people gravitate toward them? All it does is make me feel claustrophobic.”

Marquetta peered up at him. “The companionship. That need to forget all your problems, even if it is only for a few hours.”

Jensen considered her words. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, all signs of teasing gone. “Is that why you were there tonight, Marquetta? To forget your troubles?”

Marquetta’s face heated, as if she hadn’t expected him to pick up on that. “Yes, I wanted to…put my worries aside for a little while.”

Jensen took her hand in his, noticing how she automatically laced her fingers with his own. He didn’t think she even realized she’d done it. “I don’t like to see you sad, sweetheart.”

The genuine concern in Jensen’s tone surprised her. “Everyone gets sad sometimes.”

She had no idea what was going through Jensen’s mind as he stared across the small table at her. He’d barely touched his cup of hot, vanilla-flavored cappuccino.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

As she stared at him, a slight frown creased his brows, and all she could think about was kissing it away. “Huh?”

Marquetta chuckled. “The cappuccino. Do you like it?”

Jensen glared at his barely touched cup as if it were going to bite him. “Uh, it’s not exactly a Corona, but it’s okay.”

She cringed at his comparison, then watched in astonishment as he picked up the mug and sipped again. He made a face and swallowed as if sharp pieces of glass were sliding down his throat, instead of the rich, sweet-flavored drink. She tilted her head, totally confounded by him. “But then, why on earth are you drinking it?”

His brows knitted together as if utterly confused. “Because you asked me to, why else?”

That confused her no end. “Are you telling me you’re only drinking that because I wanted you to?”

Jensen quirked a brow at her. “Sweetheart, do I look like a cappuccino kind of guy to you?”

Marquetta simply didn’t know what to say to that. He was forcing himself to drink something he hated, and all because she wished to share a cappuccino with him. What was she supposed to think when he did things like that? Sometimes he made her feel as if everything she did, everything she said was of the utmost importance to him. He was so different from Sheldon, and for some reason, that scared her. She didn’t know how to handle his genuine kindness. If she wasn’t careful, her heart was going to fall right into Jensen’s waiting hands.

She moved to take the cup from him, but Jensen stopped her by placing his hand on hers. His felt large and warm to her smaller hand. “Earlier at the bar, you had a question for me,” he said.

Marquetta cleared her throat. “Yes, I asked what you do for a living.”

She still didn’t draw her hand away, and Jensen seemed to take her hesitance as an attempt to keep him from drinking the coffee. “I’m a financial analyst.” He placed a kiss on the back of her hand before setting their connected hands on the table beside the cup.

“What is that exactly?” she asked as she made a valiant effort to calm her racing pulse.

“In a nutshell, I study financial data that helps corporations make sound investment decisions. Crap like spreadsheets and financial reports. Sort of boring, really.”

Jensen sat back, getting more comfortable in the small booth. Beneath the table, there was a lot of legroom, and Marquetta noticed Jensen had maneuvered his legs along either side of hers, all but caging her in. Each time his knees nudged her, it sent a spark of heat through her body.

“If it’s boring, then why do it?”

“It wasn’t always boring.” He cocked his head to the side. “Which is why I recently decided it was time for a change and came up with our Man-Maid idea. But that won’t be up and running for a few weeks yet.”

“I see.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “And what do you do when you aren’t making graphs?”

“The usual guy stuff, I suppose.”

“Watch football and drink beer?” She winked. “Sounds exciting.”

He chuckled. “It’s not all OSU Buckeyes and Bud Light. Sometimes I read too, believe it or not.”

“You’re a constant surprise, Jensen Kershaw.”

Silence stretched between them before he said, “What is this that brings me to my knees? You whip through me like a breeze. Yet I feel the answer in my soul. You make me delightfully whole. Like a sorcerer, I conjure the world away, and my heart can do no other than obey. For my body follows the route of love, as the heavens command me from above. Take me as I am, my love, and let our souls fly to the sun.”

Marquetta’s mouth dropped open. Had he just recited poetry to her? Yes, he definitely had. Christ almighty, she was ready to melt into a damned puddle at his feet. “Who wrote that? It’s beautiful.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he’d just said those words aloud. It had just poured right out of him. He really was going soft for the woman. “I must have read it somewhere.” Never in a million years would he tell her he’d written it himself.

Her gaze narrowed. “You remembered the poem word for word, yet you don’t know the poet?”

He shook his head. “Whatever. I feel like we’re getting off the subject here.”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I sort of like this subject.”

The last thing he wanted was to get into his poetry. It was too personal. No one knew about it, not even Jason. “What about you?”

“You already know what I do for a living.”

“The images you paint, they’re pretty impressive. It’s not your normal career path, though.”

“No, it isn’t, but I’ve always enjoyed art.”

Immediately, Marquetta appeared to close down. Jensen couldn’t figure out what he’d said wrong. “I imagine it’s a damn sight more interesting than charts and financial data,” he said, hoping to get her talking about herself a little more.

“I suppose so, yes. I think I was one of the few people in college who knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what they wanted to do with their life. Painting has always been my first love.”

Jensen thought about that comment. “I’m surprised you didn’t move on to bigger and better things after graduating. Someone with your talent could be raking it in, I’d think.”

“If I’d actually graduated, yes. As it turns out, college and I were a bit like oil and water. We didn’t mix.”

“I see. Do you regret it?”

“I regret a lot of things,” she replied.

Her answer was evasive, and Jensen wondered why. He recalled the conversation he’d had with her brother Axel at the bar. He’d hinted that Marquetta had been hurt in the past. Had it been during her college days? And though he wanted to probe for more, instinct told him that he’d lose her if he pushed too hard. Instead, Jensen leaned forward and dropped his voice to a seductive whisper. “Do you regret going out with me, Marquetta?”