Married To The Jeon

CHAPTER 48:

Watch my language! I scowl at my computer, realizing this is getting me nowhere. I don't respond, but pick up a manuscript recently received from a promising new author and begin to read.

My meeting with Detective Clark is uneventful. He is less growly than the night before, maybe because he's managed some sleep. Or maybe he just prefers working during the day.

"Thank you for your statement, Mrs. Jeon."

"You're welcome, detective. Is Hyde in police custody yet?"

"Yes ma'am. He was released from hospital earlier this morning. With what he's charged with, he should be with us for a while." He smiles, his dark eyes crinkling in the corner.

"Good. This has been an anxious time for my husband and me."

"I spoke at length with Mr. Jeon this morning. He's very relieved. Interesting man, your husband."

You have no idea.

"Yes, I think so." I offer him a polite smile, and he knows he's being dismissed.

"If you think of anything, you can call me. Here's my card."

He wrestles a card out of his wallet and hands it to me.

"Thank you, detective. I'll do that."

"Good day to you, Mrs. Jeon."

"Good day."

As he leaves I wonder exactly what Hyde has been charged with. No doubt Jungkook won't tell me. I purse my lips.

We ride in silence to Escala. Sawyer is driving this time, Prescott at his side, and my heart grows heavier and heavier as we head back. I know Jungkook and I are going to have an almighty fight, and I don't know if I have the energy.

As I ride in the elevator from the garage with Prescott beside me, I try to marshal my thoughts. What do I want to say? I think I said it all in my e-mail. Perhaps he'll give me some answers. I hope so. I can't help my nerves. My heart is pounding, my mouth is dry, and my palms are sweaty. I don't want to fight. But sometimes he's so difficult, and I need to stand my ground.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the foyer, and it's once more neat and tidy. The table is upright and a new vase is in place with a gorgeous array of pale pink and white peonies. I quickly check the paintings as we wander through - the Madonnas all look to be intact. The broken foyer door is fixed and operational once more, and Prescott kindly opens it for me. She's been so quiet today. I think I prefer her this way.

I drop my briefcase in the hall and head into the great room. I stop. Holy fuck.

"Good evening, Mrs. Jeon," Jungkook says softly. He's standing by the piano, dressed in a tight black T-shirt, and jeans . . . those jeans -

the ones he wore in the playroom. Oh my. They are over washed pale blue denim, snug, ripped at the knee and hot. He saunters over to me, his feet bare, the top button of the jeans undone, his smoldering eyes never leaving mine.

"Good to have you home. I've been waiting for you."

"Have you now?" I whisper. My mouth goes drier still, my heart pounding in my chest. Why's he dressed like this? What does it mean?

Is he still sulking?

"I have." His voice is kitten soft, but he's smirking as he strolls closer to me.

Holy crap he looks hot - his jeans hanging, that way, from his hips. Oh no, I'm not going to be distracted by Mr. Sex-on-legs. I try to gauge his mood as he stalks toward me. Angry? Playful? Lustful? Gah! It's impossible to tell.

"I like your jeans," I murmur. He grins a disarming wolfish grin that doesn't reach his eyes. Shit - he's still mad. He's wearing these to distract me . . . He halts in front of me, and I'm seared by his intensity. He gazes down, wide unreadable eyes burning into mine. I swallow.

"I understand you have issues, Mrs. Jeon," he says silkily, and he pulls something from the back pocket of his jeans. I can't tear my gaze from his but hear him unfold a piece of paper. He holds it up, and glancing briefly in its direction, I recognize my e-mail. My gaze returns to his, as his eyes blaze bright with anger.

***