Page 41 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)
“Yes, but I needed a change of scenery.”
As we walked, I called the front desk at Genevieve’s hotel, making sure to keep my voice professional.
“Hi, this is Eva Delgado. I need pest control sent to Ms. Biggerstaff’s room as soon as possible.
She’s seen a rat on more than one occasion, and I’m sure you can agree that this is unacceptable, especially at an establishment such as yours.
We wouldn’t want the general public to know. ”
Jareth choked on a laugh.
“What?” I hissed, covering the receiver with my hand.
He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Biggerstaff.”
I ignored him as I finished the call. Once I hung up, I smacked his arm. “Seriously?”
Jareth grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Just saying, I’m a pristine example of a bigger staff.”
I couldn’t roll my eyes hard enough, though I knew from firsthand experience that he wasn’t exactly joking.
Shit. Why did I allow my brain to go there? Now, all I could picture was Jareth naked and his huge cock halfway down my throat.
“Here we are,” Jareth said, pulling me out of my dirty thoughts.
We made our way inside the courthouse. The lobby was cold, almost sterile, with polished marble floors that gleamed under fluorescent lights.
I stood at the counter, waiting for the clerk to return with my requested transcript, while Jareth wandered off to look at the art hanging on the walls.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw him standing in front of a massive landscape painting. It was filled with trees—too many trees, in my opinion. Jareth tilted his head, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, as if he were some kind of art connoisseur.
“Do you think the artist actually loves trees this much?” he called out, his voice carrying through the quiet lobby. “I mean, I don’t know much about art, but that’s a lot of damn trees, don’t you think?”
I tapped my fingers on the counter impatiently.
“Eva,” Jareth said again, more insistent this time. “Eva, what do you think about the painting? What’s your interpretation?”
I sighed, debating whether to actually respond or just pretend I hadn’t heard him. Before I could decide, the clerk returned, holding a neatly bound stack of papers. Thank fuck.
“Here you go, Ms. Delgado,” she said with a polite smile. “I’m sorry for the wait.”
As I reached for the transcript, the clerk hesitated. “I couldn’t help overhearing your discussion about the painting,” she said, glancing at Jareth. “I actually knew the artist.”
Jareth turned to her, his interest piqued. “Really? Wow, tell me all about him. Or her. Of course, the artist could be female. It just gives off a very masculine vibe.”
The clerk’s face lit up as she leaned closer, clearly thrilled to share her knowledge. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it. The artist, Samuel Hargrave, grew up in a tiny cabin in the middle of a forest. Trees were his escape and his inspiration. He used to say that each tree had its own soul.”
Jareth tilted his head, his brows furrowing as though he were truly pondering the concept. “Each tree had its own soul?” he repeated, his voice low and reverent, like she’d just shared the meaning of life.
“Yes!” The clerk beamed. “He believed they could communicate with each other through the roots. You know, like a sort of natural network. That’s why his work often includes those intricate root systems weaving together. He wanted to show the connection between everything in nature.”
Jareth nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “That’s deep. So, like… he was saying we’re all connected, even the trees?”
“Exactly!” The clerk clasped her hands together, her excitement palpable. “Hargrave’s philosophy was that humans and trees are all part of one big, interconnected ecosystem. He hoped his paintings would inspire people to respect that connection.”
I stared at Jareth, utterly baffled that he was so enthusiastic about it. He leaned closer to the painting, inspecting the overlapping branches and twisting roots with an intensity I’d never seen him use for anything remotely intellectual.
“So,” he said, turning back to the clerk, “do you think he painted this one from memory, or was it a specific forest?”
“Oh, this one is actually based on a small grove he used to visit in upstate New York,” she replied eagerly. “He said the trees there were his closest friends.”
“Closest friends.” Jareth nodded solemnly. “I mean, these trees do have a kind of... personality.”
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Are you serious right now?” I interjected, raising an eyebrow at him. “Since when are you into art? Or trees, for that matter?”
“It’s not just about the trees, Delgado. It’s about the connection. The roots. The ecosystem. It’s basically philosophy,” he said with a completely straight face.
I gaped at him. “You’re ridiculous.”
He shrugged, then continued his conversation with the clerk.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to hide my impatience.
My bladder was nearly bursting again, and I cursed myself for having so much coffee earlier.
I should have known better with my propensity for a nervous bladder.
The restroom was just down the hall and around the corner.
Jareth was so engrossed in the conversation, I could slip away and be back before he even noticed.
I walked briskly down the hallway and rounded the corner toward the restrooms. The faint click of my heels echoed in the quiet space, but then another sound joined it—footsteps, heavier and faster than mine. Before I could process it, a blinding flash went off in my face.
I stumbled back, throwing my hand up to block the light. A man stood in front of me, a camera slung around his neck and his finger clicking the shutter button relentlessly.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
“Ms. Delgado, where is Genevieve? Why hasn’t she made a statement? Have you stopped representing her?”
I turned away, my heart pounding, and made a beeline for the restroom. The man was faster, though, cutting me off and cornering me against the wall.
“No comment,” I said, trying to sound firm despite the fear creeping in. My mind raced, weighing my options. He was bigger, stronger, and I was alone. No, Jareth would come as soon as the bracelet let him know I was in distress.
The man stepped closer, his camera still clicking. “Just one comment, Ms. Delgado. The public deserves to know?—”
“Back off,” I interrupted, my voice trembling despite my effort to stay calm.
Suddenly, Jareth came barreling around the corner like a freight train, tackling the man to the ground. The camera hit the floor with a sickening crack as Jareth’s fists flew, landing blow after blow.
“Jareth,” I screamed, my voice high and panicked. “Stop! Stop it!”
He paused, his chest heaving as he looked back at me. His face was wild, his golden-brown eyes blazing with fury. Slowly, he stood, towering over the man.
Jareth grabbed the camera and inspected it briefly. “You can only have this back if you give me whatever has the photos on it,” he growled menacingly.
The man wiped at the blood dripping from his nose. “I’ll sue you for assault!”
“Stop being a pussy,” Jareth shot back. “And wipe the blood off your upper lip. Now, hand over the photos, or you won’t live long enough to file a complaint.”
The man hesitated, clearly weighing his options, but Jareth’s unrelenting glare won out. With a shaky hand, the man pulled the SD card from his camera and handed it over. Jareth tossed the broken camera back to him, and the man scrambled to his feet, muttering curses as he stumbled away.
I exhaled a shaky breath, my body trembling from the adrenaline. “You didn’t have to go that far.”
“Are you okay?”
I nodded, my hands still shaking. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks… for that.”
He frowned, his jaw tightening. “You shouldn’t have left without telling me. I’m supposed to protect you, Eva. How the hell am I supposed to do that if you’re sneaking off?”
“I didn’t think I needed an escort to pee.” His protection had begun to feel less oppressive and more welcome. I didn’t know what to make of it.
“You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about some rogue paparazzo. You’re in real danger, and I can’t afford to let my guard down for even a second.”
I sighed, running a hand over my face. “Fine. I get it. But you were so enthralled by the damn painting, I didn’t want to bother you. I should be able to go to the bathroom on my own.”
For the first time, his lips twitched into a faint smirk. “It was a good painting.”
I rolled my eyes, a reluctant smile creeping onto my face. “Come on, let’s go.”
As we walked back through the lobby, Jareth glanced at the painting again. I tugged at his sleeve to keep him moving. “You can admire it again tomorrow.”
He chuckled and rested his hand lightly on the small of my back as he guided me out of the courthouse.