by Joyce Lamb
When she didn’t respond, he edged forward so that he knelt at her feet, his hands resting on her knees. Feeling her tremble tore at him. “You can’t change anything.”
She met his gaze in the darkness. “What if he knew?”
“What if who knew what?”
“My father. He and Payne were best friends. What if he knew what Payne does for a living? He’s loaded, Cole. Richer than we can imagine. I’ve never questioned where the money comes from. I mean, I just figured being an importer of art is a lucrative business.”
“You said your dad knew James was working for Payne.”
“Yes. We both did. We’d talked about how great it was that Payne had given him a job.”
“Then your father must not have known about Payne’s business or he wouldn’t have had to ask James how he could afford the car. He would have known.”
Her eyebrows rose sharply and she stared at him in disbelief. “Oh, God, you’re right. Why has that never occurred to me?”
He reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb catching the first tear that slipped over her skin. More followed, and he drew her into his arms and held her, relieved when she clung to him. Hot tears fell on his neck as lightning flashed.
Rain began to pelt the deck.
* * *
Bailey woke to sunlight streaming across her face. Squinting, she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the rays pouring through the slats of the blinds. She’d been hungover once in her life, after a night of heavy-duty partying in college, but that didn’t come close to the headache that pounded behind her eyes now or the nausea that slithered around in her stomach.
Getting up, using the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth might have helped, but moving didn’t seem possible at the moment.
She couldn’t blame this feeling on the booze she’d had with the coffee Cole had given her the night before. The churning stomach, maybe. But the biggest culprit had been the crying.
She had a vague recollection of Cole carrying her to bed after their time on the deck. He’d tucked her in and held her close until she’d drifted into an exhausted sleep.
She rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow next to her. It smelled like him, and she breathed in his scent, remembering his hands on her, his mouth, his tongue … his other parts. The memories made her heart begin to thrum in her ears.
She’d told him stuff that she’d never told anyone. And then she’d blubbered all over him. Again, something she’d never done with anyone else.
“Hey, sleepy head.”
The bed dipped, and she felt his warmth near her arm. Turning her head so she could open one eye, she peered up at him. He looked far too chipper, his face shaved, his hair combed, his clothes clean. “Morning,” she mumbled.
He chuckled. “That’s what you think.” He pointed at his watch. “Try one-fifteen.”
She raised up on her elbows, wincing as stiff muscles protested. “No way.”
“Way.” Standing, he held out his hand. “Come on. A shower will help you feel human again. While you’re in there, I’ll make you something to eat. You’ve got to be starving.”
His manner was easy, his smile relaxed, his gaze straight on.
He made her want to weep all over again.
Walking away from him was going to cut deep enough to leave another scar.
Chapter 43
James fidgeted in the small, warm office, wishing he’d had a chance to take a shower and change his clothes. But he’d been afraid to go home. Or anywhere.
He’d driven around all night, thinking, plotting, constantly watching his rearview mirror. He still couldn’t believe the deal Dixon Ramsey had proposed while standing outside Payne Kincaid’s iron gate.
“The keys to the kingdom, my man,” Ramsey had said with that shit-eating grin of his. “For both of us.”
James had hesitated, baffled.
“It’s what you want, isn’t it, Jamie?” Ramsey had said. “Kincaid off your back. All the money you can shake your dick at. And you know what comes with that money? Any-fucking-thing you want, baby.”
But James didn’t get it. “What do you need me for?”
“You used to be his right-hand man, too. You know how the business runs. Can’t do it by myself, now, can I?”
“Why the hell not?”
Ramsey’s eyes had hardened, almost imperceptibly. “If I could, why would I be asking your sorry ass for help?”
James studied him, trying to figure out what the man could possibly want from him.
Ramsey gave him a slow, easy smile. “You don’t trust me.”
“I’m as shocked as you are,” James replied, his tone dry.
Ramsey laughed. “We’re a lot alike, you and I. Why do you think Kincaid hired me to replace you?”
“I’ve been thinking he was desperate.”
The amusement vanished from Ramsey’s eyes. “You want to cut a deal or what?”
“I don’t cut deals with assholes.” James headed for his car. “I’ve got things to do.”
“Like what? Running away from home?”
James didn’t respond.
“You’re walking away from a golden opportunity, man,” Ramsey said.
“I’ve had my fill of golden opportunities.”
Ramsey’s shoes scuffed the pavement as he followed at a leisurely pace. “What if I told you I know who’s been messing with your sister?”
James stopped and turned, his rage on a slow burn. “I’d say talk.”
Ramsey pocketed his hands, a victorious smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m going to be straight with you because that’s the kind of guy I am. A straight-shooter.”
“I’m listening.”
Ramsey effected a sheepish expression that accompanied a small shrug. “I thought she had something that would have blown my plan.”
James grabbed him by the front of the shirt and slammed him against the car. Rage overwhelmed him fast, buzzing in his ears louder than the insects in the trees. “You fucker.”
Ramsey raised his hands. “Hey, hey, kick it down a notch. I never meant to hurt her.”
“She got some stitches last week. Were those from you?”
Ramsey looked pained. “I’m real sorry about that. I made a mistake. All I wanted was the camera equipment, and the knife slipped. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
“Did Kincaid send you after her?”
“Hell, no. He doesn’t know anything about it.”
James tightened his grip on the other man’s shirt, shoved his knuckles up under his chin until Ramsey made a choking sound. “Don’t fuck with me, asshole.”
“If you … let me fucking breathe … I’ll spell it out … for you.”
James backed off, forcing his hands to his sides to keep from ramming one into Ramsey’s face. “Talk. Fast.”
Ramsey straightened his shirt, rolled his head as if working a kink out of his neck. “Jesus, Jamie, you’re tougher than I thought.”
“You’re not talking fast enough.”
Ramsey’s eyes narrowed, and James figured that if Ramsey hadn’t had a use for him, the man would have sliced him open and he’d be trying to keep his guts from spilling out.
“I think she got a picture that made me look bad.” Ramsey coughed, as if he had something caught in his throat.
“You think?”
“I don’t know for sure. She’s been jerking me around.”
“Good for her.” James allowed himself a satisfied smile. “What’s she got?”
“I was conducting some business with Alex Ventura.”
“Who the hell is that?”
“Kincaid’s chief of security. We were cutting us a little deal out on the grounds at Kincaid’s.”
“Are you a complete idiot? Why would you do that on his property, out in the open like that?”
“Number one, Kincaid wasn’t even home. And, number two, he doesn’t normally have guests hanging around snapping pictures of his
employees.”
“I hate to break it to you like this, but you’ve been wasting your time. Bailey isn’t in the habit of sharing her photos with Kincaid.”
“Well, this one was different because your kid took it. And I could just see your honey of a sis wanting to show her sugar daddy what a great photographer your little brat is. Next thing you know, I’m at the bottom of the gulf missing my head.”
James clenched his teeth. “He’s not her sugar daddy, and my son isn’t a brat.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“Then make one.”
“We both want the same thing. Kincaid out of the picture.” Ramsey smiled. “This deal can solve all your problems. You got a lot of problems that need solving, don’t you?”
“I’m listening.”
“You and me, we’re going to overthrow the king.”
“And why is it ‘you and me’ and not just you?”
Ramsey shot him a grin. “Two heads are better than one.”
“Sorry. Not buying it.”
Ramsey’s face flushed. “So you’re going to make me say it?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“All right, here it is,” Ramsey said, managing to look humble. “I haven’t seen the inner workings of the business. You’re the closest thing he’s ever had to a partner. And after you had the opportunity to roll on him to the feds, he started being a hell of a lot more tight-lipped about what info he’d share with people like me.”
“What I know is more than five years old.”
“And he’s been doing business the same way for twenty years. Why do you think he’s so ripe to be tossed? He’s an old-economy businessman in a new-economy world.”
“I’m not going to help you kill him,” James said.
“Who said anything about killing? We’re going to run the rat bastard out of town. And ain’t that gonna be sweet? You running him out of town?”
Skepticism told James that something didn’t jibe. “Why wouldn’t you just kill him?”
“Think about it.” Ramsey poked himself in the temple with his index finger. “Think about all the questions it would raise if a pillar of the community turned up murdered. Think about all the cops sniffing around, with their theories about motives and collecting evidence. I don’t want him dead, little buddy. I just want him gone. Get it? I’m talking hostile takeover here. And you’re the man who’s going to help me run it all. Are you in?”
“What makes you think I won’t go to the cops?”
“Same reason you didn’t flip five years ago. You’re afraid for your family. You’ve seen the way Kincaid operates. The minute you start spilling your guts to the law, you and everyone who’s close to you is dead.”
James curled his fingers against his palms. “He hasn’t tried to hurt them yet. Why would he start now?”
“You haven’t betrayed him, Jamie. Not like that. But you go to the feds and, man, you, your kid and your sister are fucked with a capital F-U-C-K.”
“But I help you overthrow the son of a bitch, and they’re clear.”
Ramsey nodded fast, as if he could taste closing the deal. “Once we take care of Kincaid, they won’t have anything to do with anything anymore. He hasn’t seen the stupid photo, and last I heard, your sister isn’t anywhere near him. This time tomorrow night, that picture’s a moot point.”
“Tomorrow night?”
Ramsey smiled. “You’re the last piece of the puzzle.”
Now, looking back, James couldn’t believe he’d agreed to it. He had essentially made a deal with the devil.
The door to the tiny office opened then, and a redheaded woman and a thin black man walked in. James’ heart began to thud.
The very morning after selling his soul to Ramsey, he was about to make another deal with an entirely different devil.
Chapter 44
After about half an hour under a forceful stream of hot water, Bailey actually felt human again. Her head still ached, but the rest of her felt pretty good. Her stomach was even begging for food like a cat that had heard its owner flip out the can opener.
Wandering into the kitchen, she found Cole chopping an onion at the center work station. He wore an untucked navy polo shirt and khaki shorts. His feet were bare, his skin looking tan against the white backdrop of the island’s cupboard doors.
Her cheeks heated at the memory of what he’d done to her on that island just as he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Better?”
She folded her arms over her chest, feeling awkward and hoping he didn’t notice her red face. “Much. Thanks.”
A grin curved his lips. “You’re blushing, darling.”
Darling. Geez. “If you were decent, you’d be blushing, too.”
“If I were, it’d be because I was thinking about what I’m going to do to you after I feed you.”
She gave a jittery laugh, her pulse scrambling in anticipation. “You’re such the charmer.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
She placed a palm over her stomach, where a hard punch of lust had tried to knock the air out of her. “What’s for breakfast … or is it lunch?”
His grin widened, his eyes like the sun sparkling off of clean, blue water. “Have I told you how incredibly hot you are?”
Tears immediately stung her eyes, and her smile was tremulous. Where had he been all her life? And why did he have to show up now?
She knew she could no longer put off telling him about the possibility of joining James in witness protection. Pulling in a deep breath, she held it. “Cole, there’s something I have to tell you.”
He lowered the knife he’d been using to chop onions and faced her fully. “This doesn’t sound good.”
“I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”
His gaze stayed steady on hers. “Okay.”
A tear slipped out, and she swiped at it, startled at how easy it was to let it escape in front of him. “If James goes into witness protection, I’ll go with him.”
Cole’s gaze dropped from hers, and he nodded slowly, his forehead creasing as if he’d felt a pinch of pain. Then his expression went blank. A long moment passed, the silence stretching, stretching, until Bailey thought her nerves would snap like an overextended rubber band.
Turning away from her, he resumed chopping. “Do you want lots of onion in your omelet or just a little?”
Her stomach knotted. “Cole.”
“I prefer a lot of onion,” he said.
“Please don’t do this.”
“Do what? I’m making you the best damn omelet you’ll ever eat.” His tone had taken on an edge.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
His shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. “Hey, you have to do what you have to do.”
“It wasn’t an easy decision.”
“I would think not, but you sure managed to make it fast.”
She moved to the table and sat, not sure her suddenly wobbly legs would continue to support her. She’d blown it. She’d landed the best man on Earth, and she’d blown it. But what could she do? She couldn’t bear to live without Austin. And she couldn’t trust James to always do the right thing by his son. Someone had to look out for that innocent little boy. And someone had to look out for her brother.
“I don’t know what else to do,” she said.
Slapping down the knife, Cole turned furious eyes on her. “You’d already decided before we made love. You didn’t even talk to me about it, Bailey.”
She stared at him, taken aback by the hurt in his expression. “I … I—”
“I need some air.” He shoved away from the island, went to the glass doors and slid them open a little more violently than necessary.
Bailey sat at the table, her hands limp in her lap. She’d hurt him. There’d been no mistaking the pain in his eyes. Oh, God, how could he be so hurt already? They weren’t in love.
She pushed up and followed him outside into the intensity of the
sun. Waves rolled onto shore gently now, almost caressing.
Cole faced the water, leaning on the deck’s railing with his hands clasped before him. Tension infused every inch of his muscled body. He didn’t turn to face her or acknowledge her in any way, his back rigid.
“It’s not a done deal,” she said. “But if it happens, James can’t take care of Austin by himself. He’s only six. Do you know how much damage can be done to a six-year-old? A careless word here, a careless word there. It adds up.”
“I know,” Cole said quietly. “I lived it. My mother walked out on me when I was eight. In a twisted way, it was a blessing. She wasn’t a nice person.”
Bailey stayed silent, wondering how many different ways one heart could break. She wanted to enfold him in her arms, but she held back, terrified he would rebuff her. She couldn’t imagine how devastating that would be.
He turned to face her, the anger gone from his expression. Either he’d gotten it under control or he’d managed to tuck it away. “I wasn’t lucky enough to have an aunt like you.”
Grief nearly choked her. “I can’t leave him. Austin means the world to me.”
His eyes darkened, as if he were thinking he wanted to mean the world to her, too. “I wish I could say that I’d go with you. But I have obligations. My father. My niece and nephews.”
“I would never ask you to leave them.”
He moved forward, wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her face against his neck, relieved that he was holding her again. His hands splayed over her back, crushing her against him, and he pressed his lips to her temple, her cheek, her jaw, desperation punctuating each embrace. “We’ve got now,” he murmured between kisses.
She couldn’t breathe, let alone nod, her senses overwhelmed by him. It had never been like this for her, and she was certain it would never be like this again.
She sucked in air when his hand slipped under her shirt and up to the curve of her breast. He backed her toward the doors and inside, sliding the glass closed behind them. Sweeping her up in his arms, he carried her toward the bedroom. When he laid her on the bed, he came down beside her, already shedding his shirt while she pulled hers over her head.