Sam hoped his eyes were deceiving him as he had waited inside the café to watch over the exchange. But he knew better. When he saw Jamie approach the table, wearing a red dress and red sandals as instructed, at first he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Red was a common color. It looked fantastic on her. But when she removed the book that was tucked under her arm and set it on the table, anger and betrayal superseded his disappointment.
He didn’t want her to be the one. He wanted the timing of her vacation to be a coincidence, even if she did happen to have a briefcase.
The innocent woman from up north who happened to accept a free vacation from a friend was the very woman that was blackmailing them. Sam watched her like a hawk stalking a mouse as she took her seat at that table. He watched her every move, every facial expression, every nervous flick of her hair.
She was the coldhearted snake threatening to take Terry away from his children and Gabe away from the only happiness he’d ever had in his life. She had threatened Sam as well. His jaw clenched so hard he thought he’d crack a tooth.
He could’ve walked right up to her, snapped her neck, took the briefcase and left. He could’ve shot her from the rooftop of the building across the street. He could have slipped poison into one of her drinks. But he didn’t. He couldn’t grasp the fact that it was her. Sweet Jamie, so cute and kind, was the bad guy.
Not Jamie. He didn’t want it to be Jamie.
He sipped his coffee in silent resentment as he watched her lose her composure. He had purposely called Gabe and told him to hold off an hour or two, so he could determine if she was with anyone. He sat up straighter and stared hard when he saw her wipe the tears from her eyes. He almost broke his coffee cup when that man approached her and led her away.
A woman who knew what she was doing wouldn’t walk off with just anybody, and the terrified look in her eyes was enough confirmation that something was wrong. Jamie’s reaction was of a confused and desperate woman who was given orders. He knew it like he knew something bad was about to happen to her. Why did she have to make this job so difficult for me? Damn woman.
Sam left the café the moment she and the stranger disappeared into the alley. He quickened his pace when he noticed a second man follow shortly behind. Sam knew Jamie was about to be set up for a robbery, and possibly a rape. A cold sliver of rage and fear made his instincts burst beyond control. It suddenly didn’t matter that she was a part of this blackmailing. He wouldn’t let those men take advantage of her, even knowing that she was taking advantage of him. How could she be so naïve taking off with that man? She had been given explicit, easy instructions to follow for the exchange. He grit his teeth as his anger for her would have to be taken out on those men.
He could make it easy on himself if he just let the guys go after her while he grabbed the briefcase, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not when she’d managed to get under his skin.
Sam took a defensive stance as the second man realized he was being followed, turned around and rushed him, spearing his shoulder and taking him down hard. To Sam’s surprise the small guy was stronger than he thought. They tumbled onto the cobblestones, each one fighting for the upper hand. But a street thug had nothing on a man who lived defying death every day.
He took a punch to the jaw, but it did nothing to stop the rage flashing red in his eyes. Sam grabbed the man’s arm, twisted it behind his back and flipped him beneath him. He straddled his waist, gripped his hair with one hand, and pounded his face five times with the other. When the man could no longer see for the blood pooling into his eyes, and his lips swelled and spurted blood, he released him and stood back up.
He should kill him. He should shoot him in the chest and drag his body into the niche a few feet away, let the rats finish him off. But he was tired. He just wanted this to be over so he could go home and maybe live a normal life. He was done chasing after people, barely sleeping at night, and not knowing who he could trust. In the end, he just kept getting fucked anyway.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Sam growled. He wasn’t getting paid to kill these men, and he didn’t want to waste his time or his bullets any more.
The guy shoved off the ground, ran a few feet away then pulled a handgun from his pocket. Sam shook his head. So much for being generous. As always, he was prepared for the worst and withdrew his Sig Sauer. He didn’t want to kill him, but as the idiot raised his weapon, Sam shot him in the stomach without as much as a blink. The guy dropped his gun and slunk to the ground. A slow death was what he deserved for trying to take advantage of a woman, and for being an idiot.
Sam stood there looking down at him and shook his head. He would’ve let him live. The guy could’ve ran off and did something good with his life. Yet Sam felt no remorse for the choice he had made because the other guy had made his.
The guy tried to say something, but as he opened his bloody mouth, all that came from it was a soft gurgle before his head rolled to the side. Sam had finished caring the moment the guy pulled his gun on him.
As Sam stepped over the man’s body, the first guy who had tricked Jamie shouted something he didn’t understand. His eyes bulged, his face paled, and he swung his arms out in the air, apparently begging for forgiveness. Sam didn’t really care what he said. He wanted to see the fear in his eyes. Wanted to hear him beg. He lifted his hand again, walked right up to him as he pled again for his life, and shot him in the left eyeball. He should’ve shot him in both just for looking at Jamie.
What he hadn’t planned was how he’d explain himself to Jamie once she saw him. But luckily for Sam, she fainted first, hitting her chin hard on the stones. He stood there for a moment, just breathing. In and out. In and out. Contemplating what he should do with her, and with that briefcase.
Sam walked up to her and knelt down, wishing she didn’t have to see that horrible scene, but glad he was able to stop the situation from getting worse. He gently touched her forehead, rubbed the dirt from her beautiful face. She had perfect eyebrows a shade darker than her blond locks, and her skin was so soft with that lush, golden tan. That was his downfall, because he couldn’t stop touching her.
Then his gaze darted to the briefcase. He should take it and run. Everything would be over and he could return home back to what it was, how it’s always been. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t leave her like this. She did something to his heart that felt like indigestion. Was that love? Did love make a man want to puke when he thought he might lose her? He’d touched her, kissed her, made love to her. For that one amazing moment that took him away from everything he was used to, he couldn’t let anyone hurt her, and he couldn’t abandon her.
With his adrenaline still pumping hot, he retrieved the briefcase then bent down to gather Jamie’s unconscious body in his arms. He held her close, breathed in the sweet floral scent of her hair, wishing he could be stronger than this. Why did she have to be so alluring?
As he rushed through the streets, she groaned and turned her face into his shirt. Her fingers gripped his arms. Relief flooded through him knowing her injuries didn’t go beyond knocking herself out.
When he returned to the hotel, Sam brought Jamie straight up to his room and set her gently down on his bed. He was careful not to disturb her and slid the coverlet up to her chin. He immediately wetted a cloth in the sink and washed her face with cool water. Despite having a key to her room, he wanted her here, where he knew she was safe from anyone else. She may not be safe from him, but at least nobody else would touch her. That was a small relief at least.
She had a slight scrape on her chin where she’d hit the curb. A bruise had already begun to form on her delicate skin. He pulled out a lounge chair and sat next to the bed and watched her while she slept, at war with what he should do. He wanted to believe that she was innocent in all of this, but he was smart enough to know that women could be fickle creatures that lured men to their demise, all while smiling and laughing and acting like sweet little angels that tasted too good. He groaned aloud and leaned on his elbows, cradling his head in his hands. For the first time on a job, he felt like he had no control. He felt useless.
He contemplated calling Gabe and Terry and explaining the situation. Instinct told him that she may be in trouble. She may not be the woman behind the deal—not after being led into an alley by a street hustler. That whole situation didn’t feel right. Either she was a pawn, or a victim, or she was the deadliest woman he’d ever put his hands on.
Something wasn’t right, and it had nothing to do with his part of the mission. Perhaps she was desperate. He knew how hard it was to cope when you had very little money. Still, he couldn’t assume anything at this point. He couldn’t take any chances as he’d done before in the past. He almost fell in love with Wanda, even though it was his job to play the role of her lover. He had wanted to walk away from it all, but in the end, the lives of his brothers were more important than his needs. And after everything, she had her men drag him to the pigpen. Not a very loving woman. Wanda McCoy, the boss’s second wife, had turned out to be the striking cobra that nearly killed him with her venom. Back then he thought he knew what love was, but now that Jamie blew into his life with a briefcase, he knew he was wrong.
Jamie was different by a long shot. He didn’t think she was trying to trick him. He truly believed she was the one being used, but he couldn’t trust himself to make the right choice either. It wouldn’t be the first time the opposite sex duped him. Perhaps women were designed to hold a choke collar over his kind.
At Sharp Ridge Lodge she’d made him feel like his life could be different. That two people staring out over a moonlit lake had nothing to lose and everything to live for. Everything to hope for. So much to fight for. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he knew nothing at all about women. But she looked stunning in that red dress.
He lifted his head and stared at her again, how her thick lashes fluttered from dreams. She seemed at peace, lying there, as if she was dead. Again, he imagined he could smother her with a pillow right now. He could put his hands on her throat and choke the life from her. It could be that easy.
But it isn’t.
Sam wanted her very much alive, and naked, writhing on the bed beneath him. He wanted to skim his hands down her soft curves and pull her against him. He wanted to run his fingers through her soft golden hair as he did the night before. The wavy tresses felt like silk to his touch. And those eyes. Such a captivating mossy green, they seemed to look right through him. See him. As if she knew the real man within.
She could also be the most sly woman he’d ever met, and that was what prompted his decision. He would coax her, probe her, and do anything necessary to dig up the truth. And he would enjoy every second of it, even if it killed him in the end.
Police sirens shrieked in the distance. While she lay there in the grey void of consciousness, he stepped out onto his balcony and made a few phone calls. He needed to know who she really was, and his contacts would find out every sordid detail about her life within a few hours. Until then, he’d watch her and make damn sure that neither she nor the briefcase left his sight.
Once his calls were complete, he stepped back into the room and paused. His breath hitched, his brow arched, and a slight smile touched his lips as he watched Jamie, so beautiful in that red dress and heels, making his bed. He shook his head. The woman just witnessed a man shot at point-blank range in the face. She fainted from the gruesome sight and now she was concerned about his bedding.
He stared at her curvy ass as she bent over to tuck the top sheet under the corner of the mattress and flip the coverlet back over. It would take a while until her background was called in to him. What would he do with her in the mean time? A spike of arousal made his nostrils flare. His nuts ached for relief and his cock twitched with primal recognition. He could take her just like that, bent over his bed. Skim his hands over those beautiful ass cheeks and glide his cock into that hot, wet heaven.
Against his raging physical needs, he decided to talk to her. “You’re awake.”
Jamie spun around as if somebody had grabbed her shoulders and forced her around. Her eyes were as wide as marbles, her beautiful lips parted in a silent scream. “Shit, you scared m-me.” She stared hard at him, perhaps trying to figure out how she got to his room. “How did…Where—?”
So she didn’t know he killed those men. He breathed a little easier. “I saw you walk into that alley, then I heard the gunshots. I don’t think those men will be bothering you again.” He left it at that.
She nodded, visibly shaking from head to toes. Her face looked so pale it matched the paint on the walls. Her red-rimmed eyes were full of terror. As much as he wanted to tell her that she was safe now, he couldn’t. He still had a job to do, whether he wanted to go through with it or not. Damn this job. Damn this weakness for her!
“Is that what you do when you’re scared—make beds?” He couldn’t help the humor in his tone. Sometimes it amused him to watch the emotional reaction when normal people witnessed death, when it was just another Tuesday for him. Still, he thought he should at least try to lighten the mood and maybe get some answers from her.
“I don’t know what to do with myself.” She plopped down on the edge of the bed and burst into tears.
That part he didn’t know how to deal with. On one hand, he wanted to hold her and comfort her and ease her pain, yet he stood there like a rigid pole not knowing how to stop her crying. Every gut-wrenching sob made his stomach cinch and his knuckles tighten. That hair-raising sound made him feel sad, and useless. He cleared his throat, feeling more than a little awkward. Should he console her? Should he make her feel at ease before he had to kill her?
She held her head in her hands. Her golden hair spilled over her shoulders. “Oh, Jack, I don’t know what I should do. What did I get myself into? This isn’t what I….”
And she didn’t even know his real name. For that he felt like an asshole. He deserved a full bore backhand across the eyeballs for that. Perhaps this insane situation was what they both deserved. Lies. Betrayal. But when they were together in that bed, everything was real.
He eyeballed her, his curiosity piqued by what she didn’t finish saying. Maybe she was about to reveal the truth to why she was here, and who sent her. “I’m not sure what you mean…”
She lifted her face, eyes red and swollen, and for a moment his breath caught because she looked lovely. Sad, scared, and delicate. He swallowed. He wanted to kiss her eyes and make them wet with passion—not sadness.
Something happened in his chest that he didn’t like. Like that time he was waterboarded by a rival hitman in Egypt. He couldn’t breathe now as he couldn’t breathe that day, so long ago. Sam had walked into the apartment to find his target was already dead. Before he realized his mistake, a sack was thrown over his head from behind, and he was dragged into the room. That was the first and only time he’d been careless. Death was within reach as his lungs fought to control his breath while the water was forced into his mouth. Just when he thought it was over, as his body started to sag in defeat, the door burst open and he heard shouting through the sac over his face.
It was Norman the Norwegian who’d gotten him out of that mess. Apparently three rival hitmen had taken the job, and when the first shooter got the target, he decided to take Sam out at the same time. While Sam and Norman were not exactly friends, they had a mutual understanding and respect for each other. He regretted having to kill Norman in that bathroom like some cheap drug deal gone wrong, but the big Norwegian left him no choice.
Sam had a choice with Jamie. He could kill her and take the briefcase, or he could keep an eye on her and see where this ended. If she wasn’t alone in this, which he suspected, then he needed to get the real villain. Maybe he could help Jamie get through this without getting hurt. But he needed answers.
“You can tell me anything,” he pressed on, his thoughts back to the situation at hand. “You’re safe with me.” Quit lying to her. He grit his teeth. You know what you have to do. He had to force himself to breathe evenly, when all he wanted was to explode and either punch the wall or push himself inside her.
Jamie shook her head, a defeated expression on her face. She shoved up and off the bed. “I can’t do this. This is fucking crazy.” She seemed to be fighting with some inner demon as she bent to grab the briefcase, and Sam realized that if she left his room right now, that would be it. Whatever her role was in this fucked-up situation, if he let her leave and go through with the exchange, then he’d have to kill her. He’d have to kill her.
He couldn’t let her go, not when all their lives and their freedom were at stake. Now he suddenly wished he’d never met her at that lodge. Jamie Fields had become an itch that he couldn’t scratch, a thorn in his ass, a drink for his thirst.
Fuck!
“Wait.” He walked up to her, feathered his fingers through her hair and tilted her head back. As she gasped in surprise, Sam brought his lips to hers and kissed her. He wanted to keep her here and shut her up at the same time. He couldn’t be sure if it was his frustration with the situation, or his feral attraction to her, or both, that made him ravage her, but he couldn’t help himself.
He had to have her. Right now. Fuck the consequences.
* * * *
Jamie’s head spun.
She had just witnessed a murder, and had nearly been killed herself, and yet, being in Jack’s arms, having him kiss her with abandon, and hold her with such raw need shoved reality right out the door. All her fear and frustration and desperation vanished while he touched her as if he owned her.
The briefcase dropped to the floor beside them as she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, holding him tighter. God forgive me, but I want him inside me. I need him inside me. Now.
Driven by lust, and maybe even fear, she dug her nails into his back, scraped all the way down and around his lean hips, then violently tore his zipper down. In seconds she had his pants around his ankles and her hands on his dick.
They both panted and moaned. Jack looped the straps of her dress around his fingers and peeled the garment down her body, taking her panties with it in one smooth sweep. Jamie whimpered, her body aflame as his fingers slipped between her wet pussy lips to tease her sensitive clit. She ground her hips against his finger, pushing harder while he kissed her, already on the edge of a wild climax.
“This is how you should be treated by a man—ruining your lipstick, not your mascara.” He slid his fingertip farther down and teased that dark place nobody else ever had the nerve to touch. Jamie’s high-pitched cry shrieked through the room as she shuddered and quaked with every torrid touch.
“Why do I want you so much?” she moaned, as he trailed kisses over her chin and down to her breasts. The tears she had tried so hard not to cry, slipped down her cheeks. Just breathe. Forget about everything else. This is what you need.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured between kisses.
“No. Please. Don’t stop.”
Their lips met again and all thought of the previous hour vanished, replaced with a need for nothing but pleasure. She needed this. Needed to feel loved and safe and forget what tomorrow would bring.
He kissed her as though his sole purpose was to satisfy her every whim. Her entire body tingled, nipples tight, the apex of her thighs wet and aching for more. His luscious lips, so soft and delicious, set her aflame as he kissed her mind blank. She succumbed, weightless in his arms and let the mating call take its course.
With one hand on her hip, Jack moved the other up along her ribcage to circle each aroused nipple through her bra. She shuddered, grinding against him. Empowered by his arousal, Jamie stroked his cock with desperate abandon.
With a rough moan, he reached behind and unhooked her bra, nearly ripping it off her, then he swung her up in his arms to place her gently onto the bed. “If you keep touching me like that, your vacation will never end,” he growled, and buried his face between her tits.
Jamie moaned and feathered her fingers through his curly hair, holding him there as he bit her nipples. She wanted the exchange to end, but not her time with Jack. She didn’t want to think about never seeing him again. Couldn’t bear to imagine not feeling his body taking hers, gentle and slow and fast and deep. She feared her attraction to him, her need to have him again and again, as if her body had been created for his touch.
She gripped his shoulders, turned on by the play of muscle she felt there, bunching and flexing as he set to work making her numb with lust. His deep, guttural growl made her pulse race as he skimmed his hand up her torso, the heat of his palm soft and erotic on her excited flesh.
As Jack slid off the bed and stood at the foot, staring down at her with a smirk on his luscious lips, Jamie suddenly felt mortified by her nakedness. A blush pinched her cheeks. He’d seen her naked before, but the bright chandelier hanging over his bed made everything more visible. Every flaw more enhanced.
“Don’t be shy. You’re beautiful,” he murmured. His words soothed her nerves, but his slow, almost evil smile disturbed her. Why is he looking at me like that? And before she could question what he was about, Jack squatted down at the foot of the bed and removed her heels. His devilish expression made her push up on her elbows and watch, mortified yet curious as he traced his fingertip along the curve of her foot.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh…wow.” How could a foot elicit that much erotic pleasure? She quivered and whimpered as he gently kissed the sensitive area at the arch of her foot—only there, where the sensitivity was too acute for words.
“Did you know your feet were that sensitive?”
“God no. Not like that,” she purred.
“Nerve endings should not be ignored.”
Jamie giggled and shuddered again as he kissed and tickled another scintillating path. “If I would’ve known this, I would’ve had you on the dock, and every day after that,” she cried out. Good thing her feet weren’t too ticklish or she might’ve kicked him in the face. No, nerve endings should never be ignored.
He chuckled, and the vibration on her foot sent more convulsions right between her legs. She closed her eyes and reveled in this new and wicked attention. Slowly and provocatively, Jack kissed up her calves to the crook of her knees. Every inch of quivering flesh was definitely not ignored as he worked his way up her body. She thought she’d ruin the mattress she was so wet, or at least become a part of the bed itself, so heavy she felt—heavy yet weightless at the same time.
She feathered her fingers through his hair again as her hips gyrated beneath him. He took her nipple in his mouth and rolled the aching tip between his teeth and tongue. She cried out and raked his scalp with her nails.
“Dammit, Jack, I’m really beginning to like you.”
He glanced up, his sexy eyes drowsy with lust, and Jamie knew then and there that she didn’t want to let him go. Even if tonight was their last night together, she’d enjoy every breathless moment. It was in that moment of reflection when she realized that like wasn’t a strong enough word. What she felt for Jack was much stronger than that, and it terrified her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and ground her hips against his burgeoning erection. He pulled away with a dark smile and worked his way back down her body. Feverishly aroused, Jamie wished he’d be quicker and take her already. But he sat back at an angle, as if he had all the time in the world to please her. Propped on one elbow, he parted her legs with his free hand, his eyes feasting on her bared pussy. When his head dipped and his ravenous tongue delved around her clit and down her wet lips, Jamie thought she’d fly off the bed. She gripped the bedding and gasped as he ravaged her with his tongue, turning her body to liquid and her mind to mush.
He took his time, delving deeper, applying more pressure. Jamie didn’t know how much more she could take.
“I need you inside me, please, Jack.”
“Soon,” he said. “You’re almost there.” He replaced his tongue with his finger and in a slow, agonizing rhythm he stroked her…around and around…each deft strike making her hips rise a little higher. He stared at her face, watching her expressions of joy and ecstasy as he continued strumming her without a lick of shame. Heat crept up her neck and face, a sure prelude to orgasm. She cried out and her hips arched, almost of their own will as the wave rocked her. With a deep moan, Jack slowed his pace but continued teasing her mercilessly.
Jamie panted, lying limp on the bed now, her entire body buzzed and numb. Amazed that he could control her so easily, she blushed and looked away from his bold gaze. She smiled shyly, aware of how she must have looked coming undone so easily. Jamie was a strong woman, but here was this stranger who boldly spread her thighs and tasted her as if he had every right.
The moment Jack reached up to undo the top button of his shirt, Jamie scooted onto her knees, ready to take over. She smiled when he chuckled and proceeded to undress him quickly. Her patience had worn thin long ago. The last button gave way and she reached up to peel the shirt over his shoulders, letting it pool at his feet beside his already discarded pants and boxers.
His brown skin, lightly dusted with dark hair, captivated her. She sucked on his nipples, teasing and nibbling, just as he had done to her. His rough moan excited her. While she toyed with him, Jack reached down and took the weight of her breasts in his hands, kneading and pinching her nipples.
She swirled her tongue around his nipple before she bit down with a measure of force. His sudden jerk and grunt of pain gave her instant pleasure.
The challenge she saw in his eyes excited her. She took him in hand and stroked his shaft more forcefully, convincing herself that even though he was bigger than a decent man should be, she’d use every inch of him, again. His cock was darker than the rest of his body, which was intriguing and appealing, especially when her fingers looked so white wrapped around him, a stark and beautiful contrast. She kissed and licked around his head, delighted as he groaned and pumped his hips forward. The ache between her legs deepened, pulsing in unison with each stroke of her hand and kiss from her lips.
Jack skimmed his hands up her arms and gathered her hair in one hand, holding it to the side for a better view. He growled when she gripped the base of his shaft and sucked his head into her mouth, taking him down as far as she could. Her throat tightened, triggering a heady pulse between her legs that she could no longer ignore.
As he reached for the condoms on the nightstand, Jamie shook her head. “No. I want to feel you.”
Jack blinked, obviously taken back by her words. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She’d never let a man come inside her before. Never trusted a man enough to take it that far. But she wanted Jack to have her completely. She wanted to feel everything.
Jack’s eyes seemed to darken with lust and something else, as he gripped her hips and pulled her to him while he remained standing at the side of the bed. Her ass hung slightly over the edge of the mattress. She bit her lip and gasped in pleasure as he guided his naked length along her slick pussy lips, instigating a fevered need to feel him deep. To forget about what waited beyond the door and find ecstasy—raw, naked ecstasy.
Jamie released a startled breath and gripped the bed linen, that first slow thrust almost painful, as it had been the first time. Her eyes widened and he held still, allowing her body to succumb, and to eventually beg for more.
Then he fed her the rest.
They both moaned in unison.
Filled was an understatement, Jamie decided, as she moved in tune to him. She stared at his piercing eyes while he penetrated her slowly, madly, deeply. She raked her nails along his forearms and met his thrusts, already feeling the rush drawing near.
Gently, he stroked her inner thighs, applying pressure with the pads of his thumbs. The gesture made something unravel within and the flutter of heat in her belly deepened. His fingers surged higher, still circling, massaging, and driving her wild, until he pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit.
Jamie closed her eyes and rocked with him, her breath short and sharp, feeling as though she floated above the mattress in a fiery inferno.
The intensity heightened as Jack quickened his pace, filling her deeply, owning her body. The sound of their bodies smacking together resounded throughout the room.
He lifted her bottom, raising her higher, thrusting deeper, and it was Jamie’s undoing. She arched and cried out. Jack lifted her higher in his arms and kissed her passionately, still thrusting hard. Sweat beaded off his brows. Three more deep pumps and his hips stilled, his breath quickened, and he found his own shuddering climax.
It was during the blissful aftermath, as they lay limbs entwined, nothing but the sound of heavy breathing in the room, that her cell phone rang. Jamie’s lids fluttered lazily, not quite back to reality yet, but after the third ring, she jerked up in bed.
Only one person would be calling, and she didn’t want to answer. How could she explain what happened today while Jack was right next to her? She dared a glance over her shoulder. His eyes were closed, chest moving evenly with each breath.
Jamie picked up the cell, her eyes still trained on Jack, and lowered her voice. “Yes?” His lids didn’t flicker at all.
“How did it go today?” Monty asked, his voice high with expectation.
Jamie’s stomach swirled as the vision of those two men came to mind. She turned away from Jack and whispered, “It didn’t.”
“What? What the fuck happened?” Monty’s suddenly shrill voice echoed loud through the receiver.
Her chin quivered and her hand holding the receiver trembled. She cleared her throat, nervous that Jack might hear their conversation. “Uh, now really isn’t a good time, Mom. I’ll call you later.” That man would’ve raped her, but somebody killed him. Somebody came toward her after killing that man, but thank God Jack had heard the commotion and came to her rescue.
But how did he get past the man with the gun?
“What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “I’ll call you first thing in the morning. I promise. Love you,” she added, tasting the bitter truth of that word toward a mother she’d never known.
Jamie hung up the phone as the weight of her responsibility pushed heavily on her shoulders. The anonymous woman probably didn’t care that Jamie could’ve been killed today. All that mattered was the briefcase. She stared at it and wondered if what was inside would be her undoing. Even if she wanted to know what lay within, she had no code to open it. Maybe she was better off not knowing anyway.
She glanced at Jack again, only half relieved that his eyes were still closed and his soft snores filled the room. But it didn’t settle her fear that her job still wasn’t complete. There could be hell to pay, and she didn’t know exactly what happened earlier. If Jack saw her come into the alley and heard the shots, how did he manage to get her back here without getting shot at?
She settled back under the covers and cuddled up to him, needing his warmth and his strength. Their bodies fit together as if by design. That thought scared her. How could she feel safe in his arms and in his bed when she still didn’t really know him? How could she be falling in love with a stranger?
For a long while she lay there wide awake, wondering if she told Jack why she was here and what was happening, if he’d help her.