Chapter 72

JASPER

I left work earlier than usual, despite having a lot to do. Entering the penthouse, I sensed she was there. There's a certain spark that comes alive when she's close. Even if Carlos hadn't told me about the day, and that Harper was waiting upstairs, I would have known just by getting off the elevator.

The new porcelain bowl sits on the entrance table which Harper calls a "trinket dish." She said it's for dropping in phones, keys, wallets, and cuff links. She thinks it keeps things neater than just tossing them all over the place until I head out the next morning. She says it looks better. But honestly, the actual reason it's there is because of the grin she had on her face when she brought it home. With a smile like that, I couldn't have said no to anything she wanted.

I walked down the hall, where the faint glow of a desk lamp illuminated the door frame of Harper's office. The closer I got to the door the louder her excited keystrokes became. I stood, leaning in the doorway, just smiling. It seemed like I'd been doing that quite a bit these days.

Smiling.

Harper looked up when she noticed my presence, biting her bottom lip, she held up one finger.

"I'll only be another fifteen minutes. Then I'm all yours," she said, with a serious demeanor. She hated to be interrupted when she was in her zone, and I enjoyed watching her when she was in that zone.

I stretched out on the couch I handpicked for Harper's office, while I watched little wrinkles form on her adorable forehead as she wrapped up the chapter she was writing when I unexpectedly came home early.

We leave for Atlanta tomorrow afternoon for our weekend trip to my childhood home. A home that held many good memories from my adolescent years, those memories faded once my mother was murdered. Those good and wholesome memories were soon replaced by the memories of the horrific grooming my father tried, to keep me within his reach so that I would one day join him as second in command over his empire. Back then, I didn't realize that, despite leaving that life behind, it would eventually come knocking, drawing me back into that realm.

I wanted to walk away from it all and let it all fall to the ground. Without a leader, someone to watch over the territories and estates, someone to keep a stronghold of the respect that had been earned all those years, that is exactly what it would do. The first sign of weakness would cause the entire entity to crumble at the greedy hands of my father's enemies. Part of me wanted to see that happen one day but when my father passed and all the grimy shit, he was involved in shined its light. I was determined to shut down what I could and turn the path of this empire down one more morally sound.

I requested Luka to oversee the empire until I was ready to take charge. He hesitated because he never aspired for the position, which made him the perfect candidate. I knew there wouldn't be any underhanded moves made. On top of that, I set up some heavy security surveillance on him they alert me anytime he makes a move. In this business, trusting people isn't an option.

It was tough keeping my firm as the top priority when I was so easily distracted by the gorgeous angel who sat at her desk in front of me. Her hair was casually pinned up with a pencil, and she wore sweatpants with oversized fluffy socks and a hoodie that concealed her figure. Still, she was the most beautiful woman to walk the earth. I wanted nothing more than to kidnap her from her computer, take her to bed, and make sweet love to her all night but the last time I did that she made me promise to let her work when she had a deadline. I stupidly agreed.

Dumb ass.

She told me she'd be done in fifteen minutes, about ten minutes back, so I was hanging tight for another five. After that, though, all bets were off.

It had been two days since she had that flashback, and neither of us had spoken of it. I figured if she needed to talk she would. In the meantime, there was no reason to bring it up and put her back through the torture. I didn't realize she was holding so much inside.

Holding things in causes more damage than good, I'm a prime example of that. I set up an appointment for her to see a therapist on Tuesday. I haven't told her yet but I'm hoping she will go. I feel it will be good for her. I just can't sit back and watch her blame herself anytime she struggles with her trauma.

Dr. Reed is one of the best in her field. She is highly recommended. She specializes in childhood trauma and PTSD. I planned to tell Harper on the flight home after our trip. There was no sense in upsetting her and potentially ruining the trip for her either.

A smile tugged at my lips when I suddenly remembered the fashion show, well more like a strip tease Harper put on for me last night. She tried on every single piece of lingerie from the boutique I sent her to on Tuesday while Max and I were away. Per my request, tried them on, and let me rate them one to five. One was fucking incredible and five was fucking irresistible. From what I could tell they were all fives but maybe it was more so the woman underneath. Her curves were on display in each set. I was a good boy, I just watched, each agonizing taunt, causing my restraint to slip a little more, but once I was given the okay, I showed her how beautiful she was in more ways than I could count.

I was pleasantly pulled away from my fantastic memories by the sound of Harper's laptop closing

"There, all done." She stood up and walked toward me. I sat up and once she was within reach, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down on my lap. With a huff from her lips, she obeyed.

she put her hands on my cheeks and pulled me into a kiss with so much passion It made me wonder what exactly she was writing about.

Since Harper started writing her novel, there have been many nights that she used our bedroom for research.

"Why won't you let me read any of your work?" I've tried to peek, and without a moment's notice, I got whacked across the chest and warned. An angry Harper is not one to be reckoned with, that's for sure. So, like everyone else, I'll have to wait until it's complete.

"It's not ready." She kissed the tip of my nose. I scrunched my face in disdain, even though I secretly fucking love her little tender endearments.

"Fine, I'll keep out of your little piece of ‘Cliterature' in progress, but I want to be the first to read it when it's done," I demanded, even though I have no real power over her decision. She smiled a sweet smile and nodded her head.

"I promise you will be the first." She laid her head in the crook of my neck, and breathed in my scent she peppered kisses in the sensitive spot near my ear.

"But I do have a scene I'm struggling with. Care to help me out?" She pulled away to waggle her eyebrows.

Such a little temptress .

I stood up from the couch taking her with me, as she wrapped her legs around my waist.