Jace: The Pride of the Double Deuce by Kathi S. Barton Read Free Book Online Page A

worried. Not about her health or anything, but just that she’d left again. “She’s been hurt, I just found out, and when I went to the hospital to see to her, she was already released.”
    “She’s in a meeting.” He knew who it was then; her assistant Sharon, the fucking cunt. “I’ll give her the message, Mr. Hardgrave, but I doubt she’ll call you back. I think she’s made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t want to date you.”
    “You’ll give her the message though.” Jeff wanted to go over to the office and smack the shit out of the woman, but he was in a role now and he was going to play it to the end. “I was just so worried about her. And she’ll be the one to decide if we’ll date or not, Miss Guest. You might want to remember who pays your salary.”
    “And that person is not you.” She hung up before he could comment again. Which, he supposed, was a good thing. He could not lose his temper this late in the game. Not when he had her so close…and her daddy’s money. So when he laid the phone down on the desk, he let his anger pour from him.
    The desk top was cleaned of everything that dared be in his way. His temper ripped through him, making him do things, violent things, that he normally didn’t condone. He looked around at the carnage when he was finished. There were a lot of broken things he’d mourn soon, like his tea glass and the little alarm clock. Then there was the glass in the door behind him, the rented door. Like the rest of the apartment, it wasn’t his. He didn’t want to own it either, but he did need to live somewhere until Holly could be brought around. For now he’d have to make do with what he had, as there weren’t enough funds and no real credit to his name that would encourage a banker, not even the one he had in place at the local bank, to lend him enough to buy a paper, much less a home.
    As he started to calm, Jeff sat on the sofa. It was hard and unforgiving, like the floor beneath his feet, but it had come with the place and he wasn’t ready to replace things like that. Making a good impression, that was key.
    “Fucking bitch will be gone when Holly and I are married.” He grinned when he thought of the look on Sharon’s face when he was finally able to tell her that. “You’ll see. When she and I are wed, things are going to be different.”
    Jeff wasn’t like most men who stalked a woman for something. Yes, he wanted her as his wife and he did want her money. But he wasn’t planning to kill her off after the vows were said. He had no intention of killing her off; her father either. He was old, yes, but without Palmer’s help Jeff would die long before he did. So long as they were both living and making money, he would not need the insurance that would, he was sure, eventually come his way. Jeff knew when to hitch his horse to a good wagon. But for now, he had to clean up.
    Picking up the broken things, he tried to think how to explain what had happened in here. He’d not done as much damage to the room as he’d thought: broken glass here, a busted chair over there, and a framed picture of someone—he had no idea who—who had probably been dead longer than he’d been living. He sat it on the piled up mess on the desk, along with the small vase that had suffered a great deal of damage too.
    Jeff looked around when he was satisfied things were as good as they were going to get. He supposed he could have called the cops and told them that his place was broken into, but he thought he’d save that for a time when he really needed them. Like after a good temper tantrum. Jeff sat down on the couch again and thought of Holly.
    She was pretty enough, he thought…dark hair and blue eyes. The freckles over her cheeks and nose made him think of small children, and he thought that when they were wed, he’d have her wear makeup over them. Not that he didn’t want her to look natural, but younger wasn’t really what he wanted. Her height, too, was sort