Just a Hint--Clint

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Just a Hint--Clint Page 12

by Lori Foster


  “You.”

  His mouth flattened with annoyance. “Before me, damn it.”

  She scooted across the bed until she could kneel beside Clint. She liked being close to him; it made her feel somehow more confident. “That’s the thing. Before I met you, I wasn’t sure I’d find anyone. I’m not a prude, but I would not sleep with a man unless I found him very appealing on many levels.”

  Clint stared at her. Hard.

  Trying to feel encouraged despite his lack of response, Julie ticked off what she considered his best qualities. “You’re strong and very capable, but not cruel.”

  “I can be cruel.”

  “Only when necessary, I’m sure.”

  Clint sighed.

  “I feel safe with you.” She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re very honorable.”

  His eyes went cold and distant, shutting her out. “Don’t be naïve.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Like hell. At least see me for what I am, Julie Rose.”

  As a teacher, Julie had dealt with enough insecure children to know vulnerability when she saw it. Beneath her hand, Clint’s shoulder had gone rock hard, giving away his tension. “You’re a good man.”

  He shoved to his feet, rejecting her touch. “I’m a mercenary.”

  “You still saved me.”

  “Because I was paid to.”

  She shook her head. She didn’t believe that was the only reason. She wouldn’t believe it.

  “Shit.” Clint rubbed his face. “Stop looking like I’ve slapped you. I just want you to see the truth.”

  “You’re being crude again.”

  “I am crude. Crude and unscrupulous, and ten times more dangerous than your buddy, Joe.”

  “Joe might be dangerous, but he’s also honorable. Just like you.”

  His hands curled into fists. “No, goddammit, I’m not.”

  “Stop yelling at me.”

  He looked ready to detonate. “I’m trying to make you understand what a mistake it’d be to—”

  Another rap sounded on the door. Red cleared his throat. “You two planning to emerge soon or what? We’re starving over here.”

  Clint turned away from her. “Get dressed, Julie Rose. You’ve got ten minutes.” And without another word, he stormed through the door, but shut it very softly behind him.

  He wasn’t that far away, and Julie still felt abandoned. Rejected. Even lost. She sat there for a full two minutes, not moving, hardly breathing. He’d been so…sweet, so caring—right up until she wanted to care back.

  She went over their conversation, everything they’d done, and tried to order the events into some sort of rationale. But no matter how she tried, she didn’t understand him. He wanted her, she couldn’t be wrong about that.

  Whatever reasons Clint had for trying to warn her off, her reasons for wanting to know him better were stronger. She wasn’t a woman to turn tail and run at the first sign of difficulty. One way or another, she’d get Clint Evans figured out.

  He might be a hard-edged, fully capable mercenary, but she was a schoolteacher, and that meant she had the advantage.

  Clint felt like putting a hole in the wall as he stalked past Mojo and Red. Because they were friends, they didn’t heed his dark look as most sane men would have. No, if anything, they showed their annoyance by staring.

  “What?”

  Mojo just continued to glare, but Red got right in his face and hissed, “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  Knowing he had it coming, disgusted with himself for letting things get out of hand, Clint crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  “We heard every fucking word, and you,” Red accused with a mean but hushed snarl, “were being a complete bastard.”

  No shit. He’d damn near taken her. If he’d had five minutes more, he’d probably be coming right now, buried deep inside her. “I lost control. It won’t happen again.”

  Red’s face pinched up even more. “She wants it to happen again.”

  Doing a double take, totally disbelieving, Clint snapped, “Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

  “It’s better than being an abusive jerk.”

  “Abusive?” Incredulity rang in his voice. He’d walked away, goddammit, when walking away was about the hardest thing he’d done in years.

  “We heard you, Clint. You were downright mean to her.”

  Clint thought his head might explode. “I was trying to clue her in. She’s goddamned naïve and—”

  “Keep your voice down.” Red grabbed his arm and hauled him to the far side of the room, like that afforded any privacy.

  Rather than punch one of his best friends, Clint went along.

  “She’s a real sweet woman, Clint.”

  Red’s quiet words, filled with admiration, rubbed him on the raw. “She’s pushy.”

  “She’s smart.”

  “Not about men.”

  “You like her.”

  Clint locked his jaw. “No, I want her.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Red leaned around Clint to see Mojo. “Do you believe this bullshit?”

  Mojo shook his head in a very pitying way.

  Red faced him again. “Listen to me, Clint. That little lady in there”—his finger pointed in the direction of the other door, where he’d left Julie Rose looking as though her favorite puppy had just been run over—“went through hell yesterday, and regardless of how tough she wants to think she is, or what kind of front she puts on, right now, you’re her lifeline. Not me, not Mojo. You. So quit giving her such a hard time.”

  Clint bunched his shoulders and braced his feet apart. His eyes narrowed. “So if you’d been her lifeline, you’d be in there fucking her right now?”

  Red’s face turned nearly purple, and Clint braced himself for an attack.

  In a fury-filled whisper, Red said, “You sorry son of a bitch.”

  Mojo sat up, ready to intercede if necessary.

  “Shit.” Because Clint didn’t want to fight with his friends, he took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “That was out of line.”

  “You’re damn right.”

  Knowing his point was valid, Clint said, “But listen to yourself, Red. You’re suggesting that after all the trauma she’s suffered, I should’ve given her some jollies in bed, like that’ll make everything all right.”

  Red, too, backed down a little. “You know how women are. Maybe that’s what she needs right now to help her settle down.”

  “For the love…If she heard you say that, if any self-respecting woman heard you say that, you’d probably be castrated.”

  A little uncomfortable, Red shrugged. “It may have escaped your notice, but women are different from men. And as far as that goes, no two women are alike.”

  Clint looked at Mojo. “Now that he’s married, he’s an expert on womankind?”

  Half smiling, Mojo shrugged.

  “I’m serious here, Clint. Whenever Daisy’s feeling sad or frazzled, it works with her. Not just the sex part, but the cuddling and stuff. Women like the closeness. It makes them feel more secure, and that little lady in there could use some security.”

  “I can damn well keep her secure without stepping over the line.”

  Mojo said, “You already slept with her.”

  Like he’d ever forget? Holding Julie Rose throughout the night had somehow given him a sense of peace that had been missing from his life for a good long while. Considering he’d known her only hours, the closeness he felt was bizarre—but true all the same. “Right. We slept.”

  “Now she wants more.” Red held out his hands. “Where’s the harm?”

  “You’re both morons.”

  “At least we’re not cowards.”

  Clint jerked around to face Mojo. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “What. Was. That?”

  Not the least intimidated, Mojo pushed out of the bed. His obsidian eyes were unflinching, his posture relaxed. “No man scares you, Clint. We know that. But
women—”

  “Good women,” Red clarified.

  “—always send you into a tailspin.”

  Jaw tight, Clint struggled to control his unreasonable anger. “The last good woman I tried to help damn near destroyed me. She ruined me financially and came close to landing me in jail.”

  “This isn’t at all the same. That broad had some real problems.”

  “And you think Julie Rose doesn’t?”

  “Nothing you can’t fix.”

  Forcing an incredulous laugh, Clint threw up his arms. “I was hired to get her away from the kidnappers, not to fix her.”

  “You weren’t hired to sleep with her either,” Red pointed out. “Or braid her hair, or help her dress, or any of the other shit you’ve done. And it’s those things that have her thinking a little more is in line.”

  Clint decided he’d had enough of the ridiculous conversation. Truth was, he hadn’t known that many good women. And the ones he thought were had turned quick enough when it mattered most. Julie Rose would probably be no different.

  But even as he thought that, he knew it couldn’t be true. “If you two were so hell-bent on getting the lady laid, why’d you knock on the door?”

  Mojo rolled a shoulder. “Didn’t know what you were doing then.”

  Red nodded. “It wasn’t until afterward, when you started giving her hell, that we figured out what we’d interrupted.”

  And thank God they had, Clint thought. Otherwise they’d probably be telling him to propose. “If we’re done dissecting my psyche, can we get on with business?”

  Red started to object, but a small tap sounded on the door that divided the two rooms, and a second later, Julie Rose stepped in. She’d brushed her hair into some absurd matronly bun that seemed doubly out of place with the colorful sundress Red had bought her.

  It was yellow with splashy pink flowers. The elasticized top fit snug to her small pert breasts, and the skirt fell loose to a few inches below her knees. Her narrow feet were slipped into flat pink sandals.

  Shoulders straight, head held high, she carried the shopping bag, filled with her other things, in one hand, and leaned on the doorknob with the other.

  Her expression was distant, her gaze flat. She looked emotionally wounded, her feelings as battered as her body. “I’m ready.”

  Clint soaked in the sight of her. Her brown eyes wouldn’t meet his, and her mouth was pinched. Had she overheard their conversation? Probably.

  “How’s your ankle?”

  She stared at the far wall. “I’ll manage.”

  His eyes narrowed and his muscles felt stiff.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  Lifting her chin another notch, she glared at him. “You can see it’s still a little swollen, and it’s sore, but I can walk on it as long as we move slowly.” She gave her attention back to the wall. “I won’t be a burden to you today.”

  Clint struggled with himself, wanting to apologize, wanting to hold her, but knowing it might be best to just let it go. So he stood there like an idiot while Red reassured her, saying, “You weren’t a burden,” at the same time that Mojo sauntered over to her, went to one knee, and lifted her foot.

  Watching her face, Clint saw the way she tried to hide her pain. It infuriated him. “Mojo?”

  “She shouldn’t be on it.” Then, taking both Clint and Julie Rose off guard, Mojo easily lifted her up against his chest and took the two steps to the bed. With infinite care, he set her on the edge of the mattress.

  Red poured her a cup of coffee made from the in-room coffee machine. When he looked at Julie Rose, his expression was gentle. “We’ll grab some breakfast on the road, but this’ll help for now.”

  Very prim, Julie thanked him and accepted the disposable cup. Her eyes met Clint’s over the rim as she took a small sip.

  Just as quickly, she looked away.

  Damn it, Clint didn’t want the others catering to her. He sure as hell didn’t want them touching her and smiling with her…He stalked across the room and opened one overnight bag to withdraw the small cell phone. If he kept his mind on business, then maybe he’d get through this.

  “Who are you calling?” Julie inquired, and she sounded both suspicious and worried.

  “Your fiancé,” he replied, deliberately nudging her temper because he could handle anything better than her current hurt, reserved disposition.

  In her best teacher’s voice, she said, “You must learn to pay closer attention, Clint. Robert is not my fiancé.” And then, under her breath, “Whether you want him to be or not.”

  Clint sat in a chair. “He’s damn lucky he’s not.”

  “Why?” Julie asked.

  And Red, grinning like a fool, said, “Because then Clint would probably kill him.”

  Since that wasn’t too far off the mark, Clint didn’t respond. “I need you all to be quiet.” Using the cell phone, he dialed in a number.

  “What are you doing?”

  Red leaned close to Julie—too damn close as far as Clint was concerned—and explained how the phone worked. “Anything Robert has said or done within range of the recorder will be played back for us to hear.”

  Julie shot an accusing glare at Clint. “You still suspect Robert?”

  “I suspect everyone. Now hush.”

  The phone beeped, once, twice. Clint pushed another button, and all conversations from Robert’s office began playing back. By setting the phone onto the nightstand and opening the volume, they could all listen.

  A male voice, not Robert’s, spoke. “Have you found her?”

  “Drew! I wasn’t expecting you.” A few shuffling sounds, then, “I thought you were going to wait for my call.”

  “I detest waiting. Surely you know something by now?”

  “Uh, no. Not yet. But we agreed you’d wait at your house. What if the kidnappers call you—”

  “Why in God’s name would they call me? The note was sent to you. The demands were made of you.” Drew’s voice rose in panic as he spoke.

  “You haven’t heard anything? You’re sure?”

  “I’ve been right here, waiting.”

  Something smashed to the floor, making Julie jump and Clint frown. “Dear God,” Drew raged, on the verge of hysteria. “This doesn’t make any sense. You should have gotten a call by now.” There was a pause; then Drew whispered, “The note said that they’d contact you with the place to pick her up. We’ve followed their orders. We didn’t call the police. Where is she?”

  “Drew, perhaps it’s time to think of hiring someone…”

  “She’s been gone for too long. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

  “Calm down, Drew. It’ll be okay.”

  “Okay? How can it possibly be okay when Julie is being held hostage, when even right now she could be…” His voice faded away to a soft, tortured groan. “We have to do something.”

  “Exactly. Perhaps I should hire someone to seek her out.”

  Aghast, Drew whispered, “But that could get her killed.”

  “I don’t think so,” Robert soothed. “It’s probably someone she met, someone she got involved with who found out she has money. She’s not at all discreet.”

  Clint thought he might kill Robert after all.

  Drew’s voice grew strained and harsh. “God, I pray you’re right.”

  Clint saw Julie put a hand to her throat in regret. “Why doesn’t Robert tell him—”

  “Shh.” Red squeezed her hand. “Just listen.”

  “This is my fault,” Drew said. “I should have protected her. I should have—”

  “Nonsense. You’ve been very good to her.” There was the clink of crystal, and Robert said, “Here, drink this. It’ll help you calm down.”

  “I don’t want a damn drink! I want Julie back. You’re her fiancé. What are you doing to help her?”

  “Like I said, I’ve considered it, and I think we need to hire someone.” Robert cleared his throat.

  “If you could ex
tend me another ten thousand—”

  “I gave you the ransom money. I thought you’d pay it and we’d have her home by now, where she belongs.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to make happen.”

  “No, it’s too risky. Someone will call and you’ll give them the cash and Julie will be fine.”

  “I don’t know, Drew…”

  “I have to go.” Something toppled, maybe a chair. “I have to do something to help her.”

  “Drew, wait! You can’t go to the police—”

  “No, no I won’t. And don’t you either. Just stay by that damned phone and call me the minute you hear. Do you understand me, Robert?”

  “Yes,” Robert said wearily. “I understand.”

  A door slammed, more crystal clinked, and then Robert sighed.

  A tiny beep indicated a break in the time frame. The next sound was a ringing phone, and then Robert’s weary voice. “Robert Burns.”

  “You motherfucker.”

  Clint sat up a little straighter. Both Mojo and Red leaned forward.

  The wheezing of Robert’s breath was the only sound.

  “Don’t you dare pass out on me, Robert. You need to hear every goddamned word I have to say to you.”

  “Who is this?” Robert demanded.

  “What the fuck did you do?”

  “I…I don’t know what you mean.”

  “The hell you don’t. You were supposed to send the money in exchange for the bitch. But you didn’t follow the rules, did you? Instead, you sent some fucking maniac to kill all of us, didn’t you? Didn’t you, Robert? Only I’m alive. Alive and very pissed off.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Praying’s not gonna do you no good. He took the woman, Robert, do you hear me? He took her, and now I have jack shit. No woman and no money. But don’t think that’ll save your ass. I kept my word.”

  “Your word?” Gaining some backbone, Robert said, “You’re a kidnapper! Your word means nothing.”

  “I did what I was paid to do.” There was a moment of throbbing silence, then the caller, in a more collected tone, growled, “And you, you jackass, were supposed to pay me for her safe return.”

  “How did I know you wouldn’t kill her once you got the money?”

  “Start worrying about your own ass, Robert, because I’m coming after you. And you fucking well better have my money when I get there.”

 

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