Secret Vows

He leaned closer, their noses nearly touching. “Do you ever compromise?”

Greer smiled, bringing his gaze to linger on her lips. “Only when I’m not offered an alternative.”

Jason didn’t know her age, but she looked incredibly young with her scrubbed face and ponytail. His mouth curved into an unconscious smile. “Then I must make certain to offer you an alternative to what I’ve planned for our future venture.”

“You’ve already planned my future when I’m not sure where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing three months from now?”

He inclined his head. “I apologize for being presumptuous. Now, let’s leave.”

* * *

Greer went completely still. She did not want to believe Jason had offered a backhanded apology while issuing an order in the same breath. Exhaling an inaudible breath, she had to remind herself that she had been given a directive to identify those buying and selling illegal firearms, and that she’d become an actress in a role wherein she could not afford to break character.

Earlier this morning after logging on to the government-issued laptop, she’d typed Jason’s name into a classified database and had come up with hundreds of Jason Coles. She’d narrowed the search with Serenity Records, transfixed with the data. Greer knew his date of birth, middle name, the schools he’d attended and net worth. She also had to remember, whatever role she assumed, Greer couldn’t afford to succumb to what she knew was the total package for any normal woman. Jason was tall, dark, handsome, sensual and charming, and a few other adjectives she wouldn’t permit herself to acknowledge.

Gathering information on Charles Bromleigh had proved less fruitful. There were other Bromleighs who had a penchant for naming their sons Charles. However, the Charles she sought did not exist. It was as if he were a ghost, a specter. He was there, yet he wasn’t. It would’ve made Greer less suspicious if she’d found a file or fingerprints on him that were classified. The fact that he presumably didn’t exist had only strengthened her resolve to go after him.

Turning to Jason, she forced a smile. “I just have to get my bag and car keys, and I’ll be right back.”

Jason caught her wrist. “We’re going to take my truck.”

Greer stared up at him through her lashes, garnering the reaction she sought when his jaw dropped. Yes, she was flirting with him. “I don’t want to put you out when you have to drive me back.”

Jason shook his head. “Greer,” he said softly. “Remember I’m the one asking you to do me a favor, not the other way around.”

Whenever he said her name, it came out like a sensual growl. The first two letters began in the back of his throat while the next three were barely audible. “You’re right. I still have to get the keys to put the truck in the garage.” Even when she drove the truck to Stella’s, she parked it in the garage on the premises. “May I have my hand back?” she asked him. Instead of letting go of her wrist, Jason raised her hand, dropping a kiss on her knuckles.

“Of course you may.” His fingers slipped away, releasing her delicate wrist. He winked at her, and she returned it with a sassy smile.

Jason leaned against the bumper of the pickup emblazoned with black letters from the song title of one of his favorite rock-and-roll artists, watching Greer walk back to the house. He doubted if she knew just how sexy she actually was. It wasn’t just her face and body but also her body language. It was why the men at Stella’s couldn’t stop themselves from touching or brushing up against her.

He’d known many and dated one very beautiful woman. The difference was their beauty was only skin-deep. A few had him looking for the nearest exit when he had discovered they couldn’t carry on a simple conversation. Usually all they wanted to talk about was themselves or name-drop as to who’d asked them to model or appear in music videos. It had reached a point in his life where Jason much preferred his own company to the opposite sex. He was very comfortable spending time alone in the studio experimenting with different music genres or losing track of time when he put on a playlist of his favorite songs spanning six decades.

Several of his single male cousins were forthcoming when they had asked if he was gay because they rarely saw him with a woman, but he reassured them that he liked women. It was just that he was very discriminating when it came to sharing time and space with the opposite sex. Hanging out with a group of men was very different from interacting one-on-one with a woman. Not only was he expected to show her a good time, but there was also the question of whether he wanted to sleep with her. Once he committed to taking a woman to bed, it translated into being in a committed relationship. It wasn’t just physical. It was also emotional.

He stood up straight when Greer reemerged with a black leather tote slung over her shoulder. She locked the front door, and he approached her and took the keys to the pickup. “I’ll put it in the garage.”

“You can drive it to your place if you want.”

Jason’s smile was sheepish. “How did you know?”

Greer rolled her eyes upward. “Duh. I saw your eyes light up when you first looked at it.”

His teeth flashed whitely in his sun-browned face. “Was it that obvious?”

“Sometimes your face is an open book, Jason. You’re not that hard to read.”

He sobered. “Is that so?”

Greer nodded.

“What am I thinking about now?”

Her somber expression mirrored his. “I don’t read minds, just faces.” She didn’t add body language because that would give too much of herself away. Dangling the keys to the pickup, she dropped them into Jason’s outstretched hand. “Do you want me to pull your truck into the garage?” she asked him.

“No. It can stay here.” Cupping her elbow, he led her around the pickup to the passenger side, opening the door and assisting her onto the seat.

Greer felt like a small creature unable to move for fear of attracting the attention of a predator when her eyes met Jason’s. She opened her mouth to tell him that he could close the door now, but the words were locked in the back of her throat as she found herself caught in a trance from which she did not want to escape. His large expressive brown eyes were framed by long black lashes better suited on a woman. Her gaze went to the short black strands on his head and lower to the emerging stubble. There was something about Jason that was quietly dangerous, and she knew she had to be careful or she would find herself emotionally in over her head. She’d known special agents who’d become involved with their targets because it had been the only way they could secure the evidence needed for an arrest. Fortunately it wasn’t Jason but Chase who’d become her person of interest. The soporific spell was shattered when Jason finally closed the door.

* * *

It was in a moment of absurdity that Jason had imagined what it would be like to make love to Greer. He didn’t know whether the thought had come from prolonged periods of isolation, celibacy or the sacrifices he’d made for his jealous mistress.

He slipped behind the wheel and started up the truck. The engine roared to life, then purred like a contented cat. Shifting into Reverse, he backed out of the driveway. The gears shifted smoothly as he maneuvered onto the local road.

“This baby is sweet.” Jason gave Greer a quick glance. “Do you think Bobby would be willing to sell it to me?”

Greer gave him a stunned look. “Why would you want this when you have a top-of-the-line SUV?”

Jason shifted into a higher gear. “I don’t own a vehicle. I’m renting the Range Rover.”

“What about your car or cars in Florida?”

“I rent there, too.”

A slight frown formed between her eyes. “Why don’t you own a car?”

Lifting his shoulders under a white cotton pullover, Jason concentrated on the narrow winding road. “I don’t know. Owning a car isn’t something that turns me on. I merely view them to get me from point A to B.”

“If that’s the case, then why would you want to buy this one?”

“Because it’s a classic. There’s a lot of history in old cars.”

Shifting slightly on the seat, Greer stared at his distinctive profile. “Do you feel the same about music?”

“Yes and no. I’m somewhat partial to the music from the ’50s, ’60s, ’70s and ’90s.”

“What about rap and hip-hop?”

Jason shifted again when he came to a steep hill. “I like both. There’s something about old-school music that connects and reflects the sign of those times. If you sit and listen to the protest songs from the ’60s, it’s like a referendum on change in order for the country to move in another direction.”

“Protest music and old cars. Did anyone ever tell you that you were born too late?” Greer asked, smiling.

Jason laughed softly. “I hear it all the time.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not in the least.” He downshifted as he turned off to the private road bordered on both sides with towering trees and up a steep hill to Bear Ridge Estates. Slowing, Jason stopped at the gatehouse because he’d left his remote sensor to open the gate in the Range Rover.