And no one was going to get in the way of what he wanted. Not this time. Never again.
2
Jardin stepped into the outer office just as Thea started to lower herself onto her seat.
“You’re late, Ms. Garrison,” he barked. He felt a flicker of guilt as she startled, and her seat flew backward on its wheels. She teetered on her heels and he dove forward.
He might be an ass at times, but he wasn’t about to let her fall flat on her butt. Grabbing hold of her waist, he steadied her.
Her waist was so tiny that his hands fit all the way around. His pulse picked up. He should never have hired her. It had been a stupid, impulsive decision. One made with emotion rather than logic. Something he prided himself on no longer doing. Emotion would be his ruin. Once, he’d let himself be run by it, and he’d lost everything.
Quickly, he drew his hands from her waist, still tingling. Need for her was a thirst inside him that would never be quenched. Because Thea Garrison was off-limits.
He’d hired her because he’d been desperate. He’d gone through more personal assistants than every other lawyer in the firm. Combined. He was a hard taskmaster. He knew that. Once, he’d had more give in him. More laughter. But that was all gone. All he had was work. And family.
And he dedicated his life to both. Allowing nothing to interfere.
Especially not a petite, gorgeous woman who wore ill-fitting clothes, had far too many shadows in her eyes and was definitely too young for him.
“I’m seriously rethinking these shoes.”
He glanced down at the hideous things with a grimace. How did she even walk in those? And they looked to be too small for her, her toes poking over the edge of them.
If she were his, he’d have her in Louboutin’s. Those red soles would look sexy as hell. Especially as that would be all she’d be permitted to wear.
Focus. She’s your personal assistant not your sub.
And she would never be his sub. He didn’t take on untrained subs. Not anymore. Plus, she was his employee. He didn’t mess with people he worked with. Although that soon wouldn’t be a problem.
“You’re fired. Get packed up and leave.”
Her mouth dropped open and the blood left her face as she swayed, making him worry she was about to faint. He reached for her again, but she shocked him by slapping his hands away.
He blinked. She was normally so professional. It had surprised him considering her lack of experience. Part of him had expected her to be gone by the end of the first day. That she’d lasted two months shocked him. But he didn’t have time in his life for mistakes. And he didn’t suffer anyone taking advantage of him. Not again.
This is what he got for taking a chance on someone.
“You . . . you’re firing me?”
“I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear,” he said smoothly. “Yes, you’re fired.”
“For being late?”
“Yes, for being late.”
What wasn’t clear about that?
Devastation filled her face, almost swaying him. But he couldn’t allow it to. The New Orleans Malones didn’t deal with emotion. They didn’t like displays of affection and feelings. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his parents kiss or hold hands. It just wasn’t done.
Unlike his wild cousins, he wasn’t given to letting everyone around him know exactly what he was thinking. His visits to Haven were now few and far between. Even though he was glad Alec and West had found women who made them happy, it was difficult for him to see. One evening at dinner, Alec had sat with his wife, Mia on his lap, feeding her bites of food, his hand rubbing her swollen belly as he watched her with affection.
His mother would have died of shock had his father dared to touch her like that. Let alone pull her onto his lap and feed her by hand.
It just wasn’t done.
Of course, she likely wouldn’t understand that Jardin was a Dom. She’d think he was perverted. She’d likely have disowned him. She’d been a cold, hard bitch, who’d never smiled in her life.
Mia rarely stopped smiling.
So why am I trying to emulate what my parents had? Maybe I should be more like the Texas Malones?
Dear Lord, there had to be something wrong with him. Had he really just thought that? His cousins were insane. It was just by some weird stroke of luck that two of them had managed to find women to put up with them.
How none of them had ended up dead or in jail was beyond him. Every time he visited, he risked his life. They’d been known to shoot at visitors. And just because he was family didn’t mean he was exempt from that.
It had almost become a competition. He’d even seen money exchange hands. Assholes.
Damn, he missed them. It had been months since he’d been to Haven. Even if it did hurt, being there reminded him he was alive. The longer he spent in New Orleans, the colder he grew. The less invested in his life he became. The more the memories got to him, pulling him under, taunting him.
“But you don’t even know the reason why I’m late,” she said quietly.
“You’re not ill. And I’m guessing no one died since you’re not crying. I don’t see what other excuse you can possibly have.”
“My car broke down.”
“And your phone was broken? Why didn’t you call me?”
Surprise filled her face. “You would have helped me?”
Helped her? Of course he would have. No, wait. No, he wouldn’t have. She wasn’t his sub. Not his responsibility.
“I meant to call a cab,” he explained coldly.
She blinked. And he worried for a moment that she might cry. Tears—her tears—might just break through the coldness. And he couldn’t allow that. If he let her in, he was in trouble.
Because, deep down, the last thing he felt when he looked at Thea Garrison was cold.
Nope. She heated him from the inside out. When she was near, his hands itched to draw her closer. His ears begged to hear more of her sultry voice. His entire body leaned toward her. Wanting . . . needing to touch her.
And that is why he had to get rid of her. Thea was temptation wrapped up in a small, sexy package. It would be all too easy to get drawn into her web. He wasn’t going to allow himself to fall for her.
So, he acted like she didn’t affect him. Like she barely existed beyond work. He didn’t ask her about her homelife, even though he worried about how threadbare her clothing appeared to be. He didn’t express interest in her wellbeing, not even when she turned up to work with large, black circles under her eyes. He didn’t care. Or, at least, he pretended not to.
Because he had to keep himself safe. From the moment he’d given into weakness and hired her, he’d been cursing himself.
Because he fucking wanted her. And for more than a quick affair. He wanted to wake up to those smiles in the morning and go to sleep with her curled next to him each night.
But it wasn’t happening. She was his personal assistant, or at least she had been. She was way too young. Naïve. Innocent. They likely had nothing in common.
Nope. Best he stick to his asshole routine and get rid of her.
“I called for an Uber and I got here as quickly as I could. You see there was—”
“You called an Uber?” He glared down at her.