by Lori Foster
Morgan started to stand, but when she squealed and covered her eyes, he sat back down again. “Casey, go get me something to wear, will you?”
“Why me? I don’t wanna miss what’s going on.”
Morgan frowned at him. “I’m not dressed, that’s why. And she’s acting all squeamish about it, so she’d probably rather I didn’t get up and parade around right now. Course, if you don’t care how she feels…”
Put that way, Casey had little choice. He looked thoroughly disgruntled, and agreed with a lot of reluctance. “All right. But you owe me.” He sauntered off, and the cat, apparently enjoying all the middle-of-the-night excitement, bounded after him.
Morgan folded his arms on the bar, looking like he’d made the most magnanimous gesture of all by offering to put on clothes. “So since your daddy threatened to cut the purse strings, you ran off instead?”
Now, that did it! It was almost one o’clock in the morning; she was tired, frazzled, embarrassed and worried. The last thing she intended to put up with was sarcasm.
Honey slammed her purse down on the counter and stalked over to face Morgan from the other side of the bar. Hands flat on the bar top, she leaned over until she was practically nose to nose with him. “Actually,” she growled, forcing the words through her teeth, “I told him to stick his damn money where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Morgan pulled back, and astonishment flickered briefly in his cobalt eyes, mixed with a comical wariness. “Uh, you said that, did you?”
“Yes, I did. My father and I have never gotten along, and money won’t change that.”
Jordan applauded. “Good for you!”
She whipped about and pointed a commanding finger at Jordan. “You be quiet! All of you have done your best to bulldoze me, and I’m getting sick and tired of it. I don’t take well to threats, and I couldn’t care less about my father’s money.”
Jordan chuckled, not at all put off by her vehemence. “So what happened?”
Deflated by their eternal good humor, Honey sighed. Men in general were hard enough to understand, but these men were absolutely impossible. “He threatened to cut off my sister, instead, and though she reacted about the same as I did, I can’t be responsible for that. I had no choice except to leave.”
Sawyer spoke quietly from behind her. “Except that you got sick, so you didn’t make it very far. At least, not far enough to feel safe.”
She didn’t turn to face him. Her gaze locked onto Gabe’s, and he smiled in encouragement. As long as she didn’t see the disappointment and resentment in Sawyer’s eyes, she thought she’d be all right.
“Someone had been following me for two days. I wasn’t imagining it. I know I wasn’t.” She spoke in the flatest monotone she could manage. She didn’t want them to hear her fear, her worry. It left her feeling too exposed. “The first day I managed to dodge them.”
“You say ‘them.’ Was there more than one person?”
She glanced at Morgan. “It’s just a figure of speech. I never saw inside the car. It was a black Mustang, and the windows were darkened. I noticed it the day after I ended things with Alden. When I left the bank where I worked, the car was in the parking lot, and it followed me. I’d promised my sister to stop at the grocery, so I did, and it was there when I came out. It spooked me, so I drove around a little and managed to lose it by jumping on the expressway into the heavy traffic, then taking an exit that I never take.”
Morgan rubbed his chin. “Must not have been a professional if you lost ’em that easy.”
“I don’t know if they’re professional or not. I don’t know anything about them.”
Gabe leaned against the countertop, ankles crossed, eating cookies. “You know, I hate to say this, but you could have just been spooked. If that’s all that happened—”
“That’s not all! I’m not an idiot.”
He held up both hands, one with a cookie in it, and mumbled, “I wasn’t suggesting you are.”
Totally ruffled, she glared at him a moment longer, then continued. “The car was there again the next day. And that’s too much of a coincidence for me.”
They each made various gestures of agreement, all but Sawyer, who merely continued to watch her through dark, narrowed eyes.
“This time it followed me right up until I pulled into my sister’s house. The car slowed, waited, and I practically ran to get inside. Then it just drove away.”
“I still think it’s your ex,” Jordan said. “If you left him, he probably wanted to know where you’d gone. I would have.”
“Me, too,” Gabe concurred.
“I thought it might be Alden at first. But it just doesn’t fit.” Honey watched Casey come back in with jeans and toss them to Morgan. Casual as you please, Morgan stood to put them on, and she quickly turned her back, but she could already feel the heat climbing up her neck to her cheeks. The man could improve with just an ounce of true modesty!
“So what changed your mind?”
Sawyer didn’t look so angry now. Or rather, he didn’t look so angry at her. He still seemed furious over the circumstances.
“I talked to Alden. He kicked up a fuss about me breaking things off, yelling about how humiliated he’d be since so many of his associates knew we were engaged. And he even threatened me some.”
With cold fury, Sawyer whispered, “He threatened you?”
A chill went up her spine as she remembered again the lengths Alden had gone to just to punish her for breaking things off. And worst of all, she knew he wasn’t motivated by love, but obviously by something much darker. “He used the same type of threats as my father. Alden told me he’d get me fired from my job, and he did. The bank claimed they were just scaling down employees, but Alden has a relative in a management position at the bank.”
“You could sue,” Jordan pointed out, and she saw he was now as angry as Sawyer. It was an unusual sight to see, since Jordan had always looked so serene. Now his green eyes were glittering with anger, his lean jaw locked.
“I…I might have,” she admitted, dumbfounded by their support, “but that night when I was at my sister’s house, someone broke in. She was out on a late date, so I was alone. I could hear them going through the drawers, the cabinets. I know it was the same people who’d been following me. They saw where I was staying and then they came back. They went through everything. I just don’t know why, or what they were looking for. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid in my life. For the longest time I couldn’t move. I just laid in the bed, frozen, listening. When I realized they’d eventually search the bedroom, I forced myself to get up. I didn’t bother getting clothes, I just grabbed up my purse, slipped out the bedroom window and snuck to my car. I saw the curtain open in the front room as I started the engine, then I just concentrated on getting away. I was nearly hysterical by the time I got to my father’s.”
She lowered her face, embarrassed and shaken all over again. Masculine hands touched her, patting her back, stroking her head, and gruff words of comfort were murmured. She was caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry.
She pulled herself together and lifted her chin. After a deep breath, she continued, and the men all subsided back to their original lounging posts.
“My father took me seriously this time, at least for awhile. He sent some men over to check out the apartment, but they said nothing seemed to be out of place. The only thing open was the window I’d gone through, and there was no one there when they arrived. Again, my father thought I was just overreacting. He wanted to call Alden, thinking I’d feel better when we got back together.”
Sawyer never said a word, but Morgan grunted. “Did you tell him the bastard had cost you your job?”
She shrugged. “My father said he was just acting out of wounded male pride.”
“Hogwash.” Gabe tossed the rest of the cookies aside to pace around the kitchen. Though he wore only his underwear, he made an awesome sight. “Men don’t threaten wo
men, period.”
“That’s what my sister said. My father had sent men to get her, also, before he decided there wasn’t a problem, that I’d made it all up. Luckily she believed me. She promised not to go back to the house until after a security alarm was put in—a concession from my father, which my sister refused, saying she’d get her own.”
Jordan grinned. “Your sister sounds a lot like you.”
Why that amused him, she couldn’t guess. “In some ways.”
Gabe looked thoroughly disgusted. “Someone is following you around town, looting through your house with you in it, and the best your father could do was offer an alarm system?”
Honey held up her hands. She couldn’t very well explain her father’s detachment when the very idea would be alien to such protective men. Why, even now, they’d gathered in the kitchen, in the middle of the night, pulled from their beds, and no one was complaining. They just wanted to help.
Those damn tears welled in her eyes again.
Morgan flexed his knuckles, and the look on his face was terrifying. Even though she felt disturbed rehashing the whole story, Honey smiled. They were all so overprotective, so wonderful. She couldn’t drag them into her mess. She had no idea how much danger she might actually be in. “When I left my father’s that afternoon, the car was there again, following me, and I did panic. I took off. But it followed, and even tried to run me off the road.”
Jordan stared at her. “Good God.”
“It kept coming alongside me, and when I wouldn’t pull over, it…it hit the back of my car. The first time, I managed to keep control, but then it happened again, and the third time I went into a spin. The Mustang had to hit his brakes, too, to keep from barreling into me, and there was an oncoming car and the Mustang lost control. He went off the side of the road and crashed into a guardrail. The other car stopped to see if he was hurt, but I just kept going.”
“And you’ve been going ever since?”
She nodded. “I left Alden a week ago. It seems like a year. I stopped once and traded in my car, which was a nice little cherry-red Chevy Malibu, not worth much with the recent damage in the back. I bought that old rusted Buick instead. But I’ve been so on edge. I stopped to get gas once, and saw the Mustang again. I have no doubt I’m being followed, I just don’t know why. Alden didn’t really care about me, so it seems insane he’d go to this much trouble to harass me. And harassing me certainly wouldn’t make me reconsider marrying him.”
Sawyer pulled out a kitchen chair then forced her to sit in it. He said to Jordan, “Why don’t you put on some coffee or something? Casey, you should go on back to bed.”
Casey, who’d been sitting at the table, his head in his hand, looking weary, said, “No way.”
“Chores still have to be done tomorrow.”
“I’ll manage.”
Honey, relieved to be off her feet, smiled at him. “Really, Casey. You should get some sleep. There’s not anything else to hear tonight, anyway.”
Sawyer crouched down beside her, his expression intent, his nearness overpowering. She couldn’t be this close to him without wanting to touch him, to get closer still. And right now, he had all that warm, male skin exposed. She turned her face away, but he brought it back with a touch on her chin. “Now there’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me why you agreed to marry this bastard in the first place, and why he wanted to marry you. Then you’re going to tell me what made you change your mind. And if we have to sit here all night to get the full truth, then that’s what we’ll do.”
She knew she’d get no rest until he had his way, and she was limp from the nerve-racking experience of trying to steal away and getting caught in the act. She folded her hands primly in her lap and nodded. “Very well. But at least get dressed.” She looked over her shoulder at the others. “All of you. If I’m to be forced through the inquisition, I demand at least that much respect.”
Sawyer stared at her hard, and she couldn’t tell if it was amusement, annoyance or sexual awareness that brought on that hardness to his features. His gaze skimmed over her, then lit on her face. “Fair enough. But Casey will stay here to keep an eye on you. Don’t even think about running off again.”
He walked away, and she admitted she’d been wrong on all accounts. It was distrust that had been so evident on his face. And she had to admit she’d deserved it.
8
WHEN SAWYER STALKED into his room to grab some pants, still angry and doubly frustrated, the first thing he saw was the rumpled bed where she’d lain. Heat drifted over him in waves, making his vision hazy. He wanted her so badly he shook with it, and he knew the wanting wouldn’t go away. He hadn’t even known that kind of lust existed, because it never had for him before. Unlike Morgan, and even Gabe, he’d always had a handle on his sexuality. He was, more often than not, cool and remote, and always in control.
And after the way his wife had played him, used him, after suffering such a huge disappointment, he’d made a pact never to get involved again. Yet he’d been involved with Honey from the second he’d seen her in the car. He’d lifted her out, and awareness had sizzled along his nerve endings. He wanted to rail against the truth of that, but knew it wouldn’t do him any good. When he’d caught her stealing keys from the kitchen, his only thought was that she was leaving, not about the damn car, not about the danger she’d be in.
He hadn’t wanted her to go.
He needed to get her out of his system so he could function normally again, instead of teetering between one extreme reaction and another. He didn’t like it. He wanted his calm reserve back. But how?
And then he saw the note and remembered. She’d written a note to explain why she felt it necessary to sneak away from him. His fists clenched, and every muscle pulled taut as he struggled with his fierce temper—a temper he hadn’t even known he had until he’d met Miss Honey Malone. Damn, but it filled him with rage. She didn’t trust him at all, on any level. Curiosity and resentment exploded inside him, and he took two long strides to the mattress and snatched up the sealed envelope. His name was written across the front in a very feminine scrawl. He started to tear it open, but caught himself in time and carefully loosened the seal instead.
She’d written on a cash receipt, probably the only paper she could find on his dresser. All stationery was kept in his office. He drew a deep breath, ready to witness her lame excuses for trying to sneak out—and what he read instead made his knees buckle. He dropped heavily to the side of the bed as his heart raced.
Sawyer,
I know you won’t be happy that I’m leaving this way, but it’s for the best. I’m finding I want you too much to stay. Since you made it clear you’d rather not get involved, and I know it wouldn’t be wise anyway, I have to leave. I can’t trust myself around you.
His eyes widened as he read the words, amazed that she’d written them and even more so that she’d had the audacity to put a smily face there, as well, as if poking fun at herself and her lack of restraint around him. The little drawing looked teasing and playful and made him hard as a stone. She wanted him? And she thought he should be amused by that?
He swallowed hard and finished the note.
To be honest, you’re just too tempting. Shameful of me to admit, but it’s true. And I’m afraid I’m not sure how to deal with it, since I’ve never had to before. I hope you understand.
Please forgive me for taking your car. I’ll leave it at the bus station with the keys inside, so bring a spare set to open it. When I get things resolved, I swear I’ll send you a check to pay for the damage to your fence, and your incredible hospitality. I won’t ever forget you,
Honey
He wanted to go grab her and put her over his knee, not only because she would have risked herself in what he now realized was very real danger, but because she’d have been leaving for all the wrong reasons. And she’d offered him a check. He wanted to howl. He didn’t want her money and he never had. How many times did he have
to tell her that?
Morgan tapped on the door and stuck his head inside. “You found the note?”
Sawyer quickly folded it. Since he hadn’t put pants on yet he had nowhere to put it. “Yeah. It, uh, it said she’d leave the car at the bus station with the keys locked inside, just like she told us.”
Morgan crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. He still wore only jeans, but he had at least put the gun away. “I don’t suppose you’d let me see the note?”
“Why?”
“Idle curiosity?”
Sawyer grunted. “Yeah, right. More like plain old nosiness.” Sawyer kept his back to his brother, more than a little aware of how obvious his erection was at this point.
His gaze met Morgan’s in the mirror over the dresser, and he saw Morgan was struggling to contain his grin. “I gather you got something to hide there?”
Opening a drawer and pulling out a casual pair of khakis, Sawyer mumbled negligently, “Don’t know why you’d think that.”
“The way you’re clutching that note? And acting so secretive and protective?” He laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word. Take your time getting dressed. I think I’ll just go round up something to eat.”
“Morgan?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t mention to her that I have the note.”
“Whatever you say, Sawyer.” Then he laughed again and walked away.
After carefully easing his zipper up and buttoning his slacks, Sawyer smoothed out the note, removing the wrinkles caused by his fist. He neatly folded it and slid it into his back pocket, making certain it was tucked completely out of sight. He’d talk to her about the note—hell, yes, he had a lot to say about it—but that could be taken care of after everything else was straightened out.