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Bitter Heat




  Bitter Heat

  Singed Series, Book 1

  Mia Knight

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is purely coincidental.

  * * *

  Copyright © 2019 Mia Knight

  http://miaknight.com/

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  Except for use in a review, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Author’s Note

  Books by Mia Knight

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Jasmine?”

  She turned from her contemplation of the snowy world outside to see Kaia was finally awake. The older woman lay in a hospital bed. The gray hair at her temples was damp with sweat, and her stout figure seemed to have shrunk in the span of six hours. A thick bandage peeked out of the top of her hospital gown, covering a fresh incision down the middle of her chest. She went to Kaia’s side and grasped her hand.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Kaia grimaced. “Like I got kicked in the chest by a horse.”

  Her mouth curved in a wan smile. “You pulled through the surgery like a champ. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

  Kaia’s eyes glistened with tears. “What are the chances that after all these years of asking you to visit, the first time you come, I have a heart attack?”

  She blocked out the mental image of how she had found Kaia this morning. “It was meant to be that I was here to help.”

  Kaia searched her face. “Are you okay?”

  She let out a choked laugh. “You’re asking me that? You’re the one who had open heart surgery.”

  “Jasmine.”

  Kaia’s sympathetic voice made her eyes sting. She averted her gaze and cleared her throat. “I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  “I know you’re supposed to head back to New York, but can you stay a little longer?”

  The panic that had dogged her all day crawled up her throat and threatened to choke her. “I would, but…” She met Kaia’s pleading gaze. “They called him.”

  Kaia’s brows drew together.

  “I can’t be here when he arrives.” Despite her best efforts to keep her shit together, her words started tripping over each other. “It’s been five years. I can’t… If he sees me, he’ll—”

  Kaia gripped her hand with surprising strength. “He won’t come.”

  She blinked. “What are you talking about? Of course, he will.”

  “He won’t.” Kaia closed her eyes as if she couldn’t keep them open a second longer. “You know we’ve never been close.”

  She did know. It was the only reason she decided to come in the first place. “I’m sure once he hears you had a heart attack…”

  “He’s visited once since he left for college. He won’t come back, even for an emergency. Promise me you’ll stay, at least until I get back on my feet.”

  She couldn’t deny Kaia when she looked so frightened and fragile. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

  Kaia’s relief was obvious as she shifted on the pillows and let out a pained gasp.

  “Do you need a nurse?” she demanded as she leaped for the call button.

  “No, no,” Kaia mumbled. “I’m fine. You should leave now before the snow gets any worse.”

  Automatically, her gaze went back to the window. White flakes flirted with the frosted glass before drifting innocently down. Two hours ago, she called the only inn in town, but all the rooms were filled. Either she had to make the trek back to Kaia’s remote mountain cabin or sleep in the hospital. She didn’t like either option.

  “Ma’am?” A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Visiting hours are over. You can come back tomorrow.”

  She nodded and looked back at Kaia to see that she had fallen asleep. When she leaned down and kissed Kaia’s weathered cheek, the older woman made an urgent sound and reached for her.

  “She’ll be fine,” the nurse said when she hesitated. “It’s been a long day for both of you. You should get some rest.”

  Jasmine left the room on quaking legs that carried her just beyond the doors of the ICU. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and let out a shaky breath. It had been a long, exhausting day, but it was over. Kaia was going to be fine. That’s all that mattered.

  She was so drained she could barely think. As she stood there, trying to figure out what to do next, the sound of a stifled sob captured her attention. Several doors down, a doctor tried to console a man who had tears running down his face. The man’s helpless despair was easy to read. Her emotions surged, but she ruthlessly tamped them down and switched her attention to a nurse pushing a cackling old man in a wheelchair down the corridor. She followed their progress until the nurse altered her course to avoid a large man standing in the middle of the hall. Her gaze flicked to the man, went back to the nurse, and then snapped back to him. She was too far away to make out the man’s features, but she didn’t need to. Her sixth sense told her who he was—her worst nightmare. She pushed off the wall and headed in the opposite direction at a fast pace until she rounded the corner. Even as her mind told her that she was overreacting, she broke into a run.

  A cluster of nurses around a desk looked up as she blitzed past. One of them called out to her, but she didn’t stop. She dodged around the medical staff, raced down deserted hallways, and shoved through double doors. She didn’t stop until she came upon an unlit corridor.

  As she skidded to a stop, the lights flickered on, revealing a wing under construction with plastic sheets on the ground, a scaffold, and paint buckets lined against the wall. She bent over and placed her hands on her knees as she panted. Maybe it wasn’t him. The only details she could discern from that distance were a large man with dark hair. That had been enough to make her bolt. God wouldn’t be cruel enough to add him on top of everything else, would he?

  “Still running from me, Jasmine?”

  That all-too-familiar voice reverberated in her ears. God was fucking cruel. In all the different scenarios where they faced one another, a deserted hospital corridor never crossed her mind. In the best scenarios, she was at a party looking like a million dollars on the arm of a man who couldn’t take his eyes off her. Instead, she was dressed in an old college T-shirt and jeans, didn’t have on a lick of makeup, and hadn’t brushed her hair before she’d rushed Kaia to the hospital.

  “Pretending I don’t exist isn’t going to work.”

  The taunt made her whip around. He was standing closer than she anticipated. She had to stop herself from backing up at the sheer size of him. Before, his size had made her feel feminine, dainty, and protected, but those days were long gone. If it wasn’t for the suit beneath his open overcoat, he could be mistaken for a football player, ranch hand, or construction worker. His clothes were tailored, an indication of how far he’d come in life. But only if she’d been living under a rock and failed to see his face plastered on magazines or on t
he news. James Roth’s success was well-documented by the media who couldn’t get enough of his rags-to-riches story.

  Her eyes flicked up and collided with his, a stunning liquid black that had fascinated her from the start. He was racially ambiguous with strong features from Kaia’s Native American background and his German and Danish father. The full beard was new, as was the faintest hint of silver in his hair, even though he hadn’t hit forty. Despite his refined appearance, something about him was still rough around the edges. Once upon a time, that raw power had drawn her to him, but now, she examined her ex-husband through a jaded lens. He was downright frightening. What the hell was her twenty-three-year-old self thinking? Roth wasn’t the type of man she wanted to meet in a dark alley… or a deserted corridor.

  “You’re the last person I expected to see here.”

  His dispassionate tone snapped her out of her dazed horror. It had been five years since she laid eyes on him, and that was all he could say? Her chest burned, but she banked her anger and donned the mask she had cultivated in the public eye when she was a child. If he wanted to play cool and unaffected, then she would do the same.

  “I could say the same about you.” It took considerable effort to sound as blasé as him, but she managed.

  “What are you doing here, Jasmine?”

  “Visiting.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Since when are you and my mom so close?”

  “I always kept in touch with her even after…” She trailed off and gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I call her every now and then to check on her. She always invites me to visit, but this was the first time I took her up on it. I’m glad I was here for her today.”

  He didn’t respond. He just stood there, staring at her. She knew the tactics. Her father was a master manipulator, after all. Roth was trying to intimidate her with his silence. Not going to happen. The initial shock of seeing him made her lose her head, but she was in control now, and she could handle him.

  “As much as I’d like to engage in a staring contest, I have places to be,” she said airily. “The only reason I’m still here is because Kaia didn’t think you would come, but you’re here now, so I’ll…”

  She took a step to the side and froze when he shifted with her. She stared at him for a moment before she took another step. Again, he moved to block her.

  “Roth,” she said in a warning tone.

  “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?”

  His crooning tone raked over her taut nerves like sandpaper.

  She edged backward. “I’m not playing this game with you.”

  She desperately raked her mind for an exit strategy as he invaded her space.

  “Who said I’m playing a game?”

  “You’re always playing a game. Everything you do is calculated. You’re a chess master, herding people where you want them before you take them out.”

  “Some people think life is a game. I’ve always known it’s war.”

  Her control snapped as she stumbled on the dirty plastic covered in paint splatters. “Fuck you, Roth! Get out of my way.”

  “Your face has been all over the news since your father died.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks, hands balling into fists at her side. “Don’t talk about my father.”

  He cocked his head to the side, scenting blood like the predator he was.

  “Patched things up with him, did you?” he asked softly.

  “None of your fucking business,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, I think it is.”

  She wasn’t prepared for the hand that wrapped around her throat or the way he pulled up so she was forced to her tiptoes. Her heart careened into her throat as she gripped his massive wrist with both hands.

  “You think I forgot what he did to me?”

  His clinical tone made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand up.

  “That was a long time ago,” she said hoarsely.

  His impassive expression melted into one of savage fury. “He kept at it until the day he fucking died.”

  She didn’t want to believe it. “No, he—”

  His fingers tightened around her throat, stopping her denial. He leaned in, so close that their lips were mere inches apart.

  “Are you calling me a liar, princess?”

  The vicious energy pouring from him made her temples throb.

  “If you don’t let me go, I’m going to scream.”

  “Do it,” he invited with a cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure your sisters would love to see our names linked together in the media.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against her ear. “You’re not in New York with your bodyguards or your family to hide behind. You’re in Colorado in the middle of a snowstorm with nowhere to go. Don’t push me.”

  The threat combined with his hot breath gusting over the shell of her ear made her shiver. His beard scraped against her cheek as he pulled back. His proximity, the firm hold on her throat, and the resolve in his expression scrambled her thoughts. She was no match for him, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes told her he knew it. As she tried to think of a way out of this, her eyes dropped from his and landed on the scar on his upper lip. The beard covered another scar on his jaw, but she could see the tail end of it on his neck.

  “Did he bribe you to leave me?”

  Her gaze flew back to his. “What?”

  A muscle clenched in his jaw. “Did he promise to give you your inheritance if you left me?”

  She was so stunned, she couldn’t answer. She watched turbulent emotions play over his face and saw the flash of impatience before his fingers tightened around her throat.

  “Answer me,” he said, words laced with menace.

  Her nails dug into his wrist. His hold on her throat was just shy of bruising. He wasn’t hurting her. Yet.

  “Fuck you, Roth.” He played her so badly that even now, the shame of knowing how gullible she had been ate at her. He wanted to rehash old times? Screw him.

  “I’m not playing, Jasmine. Answer me.”

  She punched him in the chest. There wasn’t much power behind it, but she still expected some reaction. He didn’t give her one. He just watched her with eyes that belonged to a grim reaper. She wanted to scream in his face and knee him in the balls, but it was impossible with the way he was holding her.

  “No, he didn’t bribe me,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Then why?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this!”

  “You will,” he decreed. “No one’s here to save you from me.”

  “I left you because I refused to be a pawn anymore!”

  “Is that what you think?” he asked as his eyes moved over her face.

  “It’s what I know.”

  “You know nothing.”

  “If you don’t let me go, I swear to God I’ll—”

  He propelled her backward. She landed against the wall hard enough to make her grunt. Her mind went blank with shock as he plastered his rock-hard body against hers. Her puffy jacket stopped her from discovering if he still had abs, but her jeans and thermal underwear did nothing to protect her from his bottom half. He dropped his hold on her throat and slid his hand into her tangled hair. Gripping it, he forced her head to tip sideways, baring her throat to him. One thick thigh pressed between her legs, forcing them to part.

  “Roth, stop!”

  He bit her. As her mind processed the pain, her shrill scream echoed down the hallway. She raised her hand to claw his face, but he grabbed her wrist and yanked it down as he sucked hard enough to make her buck against him. The back of her neck was an erogenous zone he had discovered early on in their relationship. He reclaimed the spot as if they hadn’t been separated for years. Her free hand twisted in his suit as her eyes closed and her body went up in flames.

  “Don’t,” she whispered hoarsely.

  He cupped her ass and dragged her up his thigh, creating a friction that made her hiss.

&n
bsp; “If you hadn’t run to your father, you’d still be mine.”

  The rage and resentment she felt for him crumbled beneath a tidal wave of lust. She shuddered against him like a junkie, alternately wanting to draw blood while also aching to feel him inside her. He would give it to her right here, right now—rough, dirty, raw—just the way she needed it. She came to Colorado to leave everything behind and forget, just for a little while. Roth could do that for her. He would leave her so sated, she would feel nothing. Their chemistry had been explosive right from the start, but she had been too innocent to know how to combat what was happening between them. He used her curiosity to introduce her to dark, erotic fantasies that no self-respecting Hennessy should have, and now she was stuck with them.

  Strands of Roth’s hair brushed against her jaw. He was wearing cologne, something familiar she had gotten a whiff of at the funeral. Roth never used to wear cologne or tailored suits and had been more likely to wear work boots with jeans and a button up. In the beginning, her father had been amused by Roth’s refusal to conform. That was before he learned of their affair. She thought she was going against the grain by marrying a man who hadn’t been born in her father’s circles, but she was wrong. Roth was every bit as ruthless. It just took a few years for him to afford to dress and smell like the men of her father’s caliber.

  When she went boneless, he growled in approval. She wanted him so badly, she could taste him in her mouth. Body and mind clashed. She had to stop this before she made a monumental mistake she’d regret. What would her father think if he could see her now? That killed her buzz and brought back all the shit she had been trying to forget.