Jennifer Morey - Justice Hunter

By arranging work for her—with his friend—he’d have opportunities to come and see her, to try and get to know her, to try and...

She ran a look down his broad, muscular chest and back up to the tough planes of his blond, stubbled face. Maybe she should say no. Then she thought of her graduation, how close she was to achieving her dream. If she took this job, she didn’t have to date Luke. He couldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to do.

“How do you know your friend would hire me?” she asked.

“I’ve already spoken with him. Do you know how to use Microsoft software?”

“Yes. I’ve actually...done that kind of work before.” She didn’t say where or for whom.

“Then it’s settled. All you have to do is call him.” He took out a card and handed it to her.

After staring at him through her uncertainty, questions racing over whether she should follow her impulse and trust him, she reached out and took the card. She read the name. Joseph Tieber, Chief Executive Officer and founder of Tieber Air Transport.

She moved her gaze to him, dumbfounded. He offered her a lifeline, this stranger who found her attractive. A thousand red flags waved in her mind, but if he was going to hurt her or threaten her, wouldn’t he have done so by now? The man who’d threatened her before wouldn’t have offered her a job. He had to be someone different. Luke wasn’t that man.

“Why are you doing this?” she finally asked.

He grinned, and she thought he looked a little triumphant. “Because I can. And I’ve told you, I have a selfish reason. I’d like to take you to dinner.”

Rachel placed the card on the table and rested her hand over it. She needed a job. Desperately. Her plans would be ruined without income. She patted her hand up and down on the card.

He reached over and put his on top of hers, stopping the nervous action. “Give it some thought.”

It was the second time in a short period a man had told her to think about something personal. She looked from his ringless hand to his muscular chest and strong biceps, up to his amazing eyes. Warmth zinged her unexpectedly, a purely physical reaction to a drop-dead gorgeous man.

Unsettled over her quick and passionate reaction that could get her into trouble, she said nothing as he stood.

“Wait.” She wasn’t sure why she stopped him. Something nudged her to get to know him better. He’d just offered her a job, a perfect stranger. She had to know why, and it had to be more than finding her attractive. What was his story? Why had he singled her out?

He turned back to the table, studying her and coming to some conclusion he didn’t share. Had she caught him off guard? Did he know she had questions about him and did he not like that?

Rachel prided herself on being street-smart. She could tell when someone wasn’t being completely open and honest, and this man fit the bill.

“Why don’t you have a soda with me?” She gestured to the chair he’d vacated.

He looked down at her glass as though surprised. “Soda?”

She smiled, content her tactic had worked. Distraction for extraction. Extraction of information, that is. “I always have soda when I come here. I only drank coffee the last time because I was fired that day and I was feeling reckless.”

He grinned, sitting down while she waved to Hans.

“One more for him. No diet, though.” She checked him to confirm and he nodded once.

She watched him settle back against the chair, eyes shrewd and onto her.

“All right,” he said, “now you’ve got me. What do you want to know?”

She held back the smile that pushed to spread. His sharp intelligence tickled her senses despite her reservations. But did he think she’d invited him to stay out of sexual interest or interest in his motives?

“I’d like to know more about the man who’s supposedly getting me a job just because he thinks I’m sexy.”

“Supposedly?”

“Nothing’s sure until it’s sure.”

He hesitated, seeming reluctant to continue, catching on that her interest was not sexual. “I recently bought some property outside of town. I’ve been working on it for a few months.”

That was something personal, all right. “A ranch?”

“Yes, but not a working ranch. It’s purely for my selfish enjoyment.”

He had money. A lot, from the sound of it. Normally, that would appeal to her, but now she wanted to be more careful. Her financial hardship should not stain her decisions when it came to men, as it had in the past. When she graduated, she’d get a great job and take care of herself. She’d have fine things, things she wanted—whatever she wanted. She didn’t need a man to obtain that.

“I’m the son of a dot-commer,” he said in her silence.

So his rich parents would give him everything. Weird how that disappointed her. Affluent men had always intrigued her. Their ambition. Their way of life. Their intelligence. She may have had a tough start to life, but she would finish grandly. Her intelligence matched any man with money. If she was totally honest, though, she’d say money made life easier. She wanted an easier life. That was why she’d gone to college.

“Did you ever want to do anything professionally with your degree?” she asked. “Or have you?”

He hesitated again. “No, not professionally. I trained to be a SEAL after college.”

That took her aback. “Really?” He was a big man. Tall. Muscular. But not overly so. He had the rugged appearance to be good at something like that.

His gaze dropped, and he turned the glass of soda on the table.

“You’re a SEAL?”

“No.” He hesitated yet again. “I quit before the end of training.”

She could tell he had difficulty talking about this. His quitting bothered him. Uncertain as to whether she should question him further, Rachel held off. She didn’t know him and wasn’t sure she wanted to know him any more than she did. She liked successful men. She didn’t consider his being born into money his own success. And he’d quit SEAL training. The fact that it bothered him didn’t make him a quitter.

She resisted real attraction brewing, deeper than any suit could ignite. This man had a heroic streak in him. No corporate executive could compare to that.

He turned away, giving her time to calm her stirring excitement.

“Why did you quit?” she couldn’t resist asking.

Slowly, he faced her again, in control of his emotions. “I didn’t want to.”

Rachel didn’t press him to say more. He’d quit; he hadn’t been disqualified. He hadn’t failed the training. He’d quit. He’d aspired to be a SEAL, and something had happened to make him quit. She caught herself looking all over his face and upper torso. Sexy. Strong. A definite fit for SEAL material...but...heir to a dot-commer...

It didn’t fit.

How many pampered men like him tried out for SEAL training? Did he think he was special, or was he the real deal?

“What about you?” he asked, turning on the charm again. “All I know about you is that you’re beautiful.”

She couldn’t help smiling. What girl didn’t like compliments like that? “I graduate in May next year. Business. I’m getting my MBA.”

He whistled. “MBA? How long have you been going to school?”

“Years. I take classes when I can.” When she could afford to.

He looked at her differently now, as though he’d just learned something unexpected about her.

“What,” she teased, “haven’t you ever met a poor college student before?”

“No.”

She supposed he wouldn’t, growing up with all that money.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Thirty-one. I started college after...” She drifted off, not meaning to take the conversation there.