Free The Object of His Protection by Brenda Jackson

challenge to stay out of mine. Especially Mom. She’s constantly reminding me that my biological clock is ticking and wants me to do something about it.”
    Drey laughed. “So in other words, she wants grandchildren.” He’d heard the same request a number of times from his own mother.
    “She wants me to find a husband before I start populating the earth and gets quite annoyed with me by my lack of interest.”
    Lack of interest? He couldn’t help but remember she had gotten quite annoyed with him last night when he’d asked why she didn’t have a date.
    “My mother thinks we’re having an affair.”
    “Excuse me?” Staring down at her, he could clearly see the red highlights in her hair, although she was wearing her hair pinned up in a knot on her head. He preferred seeing it down the way she’d worn it last night.
    “She called my apartment and got my message about me going out of town. I couldn’t tell her the truth, so I fabricated a story for her that included a trip away for a few days, and of course she assumed it was with a man.”
    “And she’s okay with that?”
    “Overjoyed, actually. Like I said earlier, she thinks my biological clock is ticking.”
    He watched as she glanced around again. “Nice community. Have you lived here long?” she asked.
    “A couple of years.” He pushed away from his car. “Are you ready to go in? I can come back for your stuff later.”
    He then smiled when he saw the look of apprehension on her face. “Will it make you feel better if I promise not to jump your bones as soon as I get you over the threshold?”
    She narrowed her gaze. “I’m glad one of us finds all of this amusing.”
    Drey held up both hands in a defensive pose. “Hey, don’t get uptight on me. I don’t find the thought of your life being in danger amusing. What I do find amusing is your reaction to the idea of living with me for a while. I take it you’ve never shared quarters with a man.”
    “Of course not!”
    “Any reason why?”
    She didn’t answer immediately, so he figured she was thinking about his question. “I’m nitpicky.”
    “So am I, but I have a feeling we’ll get along just nicely.”
    She opened her mouth as if to say something, then quickly closed it, leaving him wondering just what was on her mind. “Get it out, Charlie. Say whatever you want.”
    Her eyes narrowed at him and then she asked, “Just in case one of your lady friends shows up and wonders who I am, what should I tell them?”
    “I doubt that will happen, but if it does the simple thing is to tell them you’re my girl.”
    She shook her head. “No way would I lie like that.”
    “Then if it will make you feel better, tell them you’re my long lost sister, although I doubt they’ll believe you.”
    Determined to end this topic of conversation before he would be forced to tell her that she would be wearing the title of “Drey’s lover” before long, he began moving toward his front door. She walked at a leisurely pace next to him and for the first time in a long while he liked the thought of a woman by his side.
    Another thought that flashed through his mind was that Charlene was used to handling dead bodies. There was nothing dead about him and soon enough she would discover how it was to handle a living, breathing, hot-blooded man.

Chapter 7
    C harlene froze the moment she stepped over the threshold in Drey’s home, finding his taste in furniture and decorating utterly exquisite. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the numerous selections of Asian artwork he had on his walls. Even from a distance she found them intriguingly unusual and definitely exotic.
    She crossed the room, immediately smitten with one painting in particular. She couldn’t help but study the richness of the colors the artist had used as well as the selection of a mahogany-trimmed leather frame. It was a painting of a beautiful Asian woman, drenched in a multicolored robe as she walked through a flower garden with a