It made him stop and check the date on the tape. Curiously, it was the day he’d expected to be moving her in with him. And it was just after noon, so she must not have gone to work. He watched in silence for five minutes, ten, and then…Todd walked into the room behind her. But rather than approach her, he sat down in a chair and watched her pack. His silent observation of her sent a chill creeping up Jack’s spine.
When Liz turned and saw Todd, it was clear, even from the odd angle of the camera, that she was startled. And then it happened…Todd started talking to her—and before Jack knew it, Todd was threatening…him.
Jack sat up a little straighter in his chair and watched Liz, the rigid stance she took, the nervousness in her voice, until finally she left—but Jack understood immediately. She hadn’t moved in with him in order to protect him.
Let me get this straight. She’s been trying to protect me while I’ve been trying to protect her? It boggled his mind.
So was that the real reason for her abrupt message about not moving in with him? To Jack, it seemed incomprehensible, but maybe he was forgetting just how afraid of Todd she was. He wasn’t afraid of the little shit, and a threat against him didn’t bother Jack in the slightest. But maybe to Liz, it was something to be taken seriously. In fact, the more Jack thought about it, the more it slowly dawned on him that Liz must have taken the threat against him more seriously than she’d taken the threat against herself. Just as Jack naturally did—except in reverse, worrying only when the danger affected Liz.
He stopped the tape and pulled up her e-mail, which he’d never deleted, and read it again. If he hadn’t been so consumed with his own emotions, maybe he wouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and imagined things that weren’t there. Maybe he wouldn’t have been such a self-absorbed jerk.
Merde, this explained everything. It all made sense. She’d thought it would be safer for her to just keep living at Lynda’s—and she’d probably known Jack would give her a hard time about that, so she’d decided to deliver the news by e-mail. He suddenly suspected she’d never intended to dump him, just to put him off for a day while she figured out how to deal with Todd’s threat.
Damn, clearly he’d taken his father’s warning too much to heart, let himself base his worries and insecurities too much on the marriage that had failed and left him without a mother.
And if he hadn’t been so stubborn, just waiting for the ax to fall and jumping to conclusions when he’d thought he’d seen it happening, he might be buried deep inside her right now.
A rush of heat enveloped him at the thought and made his cock perk to life. He missed her so much.
He had half a mind to go find her right now, and pushed up out of his chair with that thought in mind.
But shit, she was likely somewhere on Bourbon partying, and trying to look for her among that many people in that many bars and clubs would be futile.
Besides which, there was something else he needed to do first, before he talked to her. He needed to take this tape to the police. The Big Easy’s finest weren’t always his greatest fans—and Jack’s video of Todd was actually illegal, and therefore, inadmissible as evidence—but plenty of the men in blue were decent guys, and he didn’t think any of them could refute what he’d caught on tape here. If there was one thing cops didn’t like, it was nutballs who talked about making bombs and blowing up places and people. And threats weren’t generally against the law, but once the cops found out a little recent history on this guy, like that he was a stalker who had illegally entered a neighbor’s house and likely attempted to rape Liz, Jack suspected they’d either dig up a reason to arrest him, or they’d put the fear of God in him and just dare him to trip up.
* * * * *
Five o’clock on Saturday afternoon and Liz felt like a lifeless blob. Despite a late night that had turned to morning, Lynda had pulled Liz’s old trick of rushing home just long enough to shower and change before heading back to her shop in the Quarter. Liz had stayed indoors all day, never bothering to change out of the silky shorts set she’d slept in, just lying on the couch, watching movies on cable and drifting in and out of a sad sleep.
Last night had been eye-opening for her. Maybe a tiny little part of her had thought a night on the Vieux Carre with Lynda would be healing. Maybe she’d hoped she could shed her sorrow with some handsome hunk or lovely lady who wanted to play with her. But she’d been dreadfully wrong. Just as she’d known all along, Jack was the only person who made her want to play, who made her want to be a perfect bad girl. And she had a frightening feeling it might stay that way. After all, no one before Jack had ever awakened the hot, daring woman inside her. Why should she think anyone would do it after him? He’s the one, she thought, the man who releases everything inside me, every doubt, every worry, every inhibition, the man who makes my heart—and my body—want to run wild.
When the phone rang, she didn’t answer it, didn’t even budge. Let the machine get it, she thought. No one would be calling her anyway. Six months after moving to New Orleans, her only real friend was Lynda. A fleeting thought raced through her mind—why on earth had she told her mother she wanted to stay here? She should go home to Maryland and forget the past two weeks had ever happened. Because none of what she’d learned about herself in those two weeks even mattered without Jack. She wasn’t sure what it was about him that had opened up the box of secret desires inside her, but he was the man with the key. Without him, she’d begun to feel the box slowly closing back up. She didn’t want to share such hot, brazen intimacies with anyone else—ever.
“You’ve reached Lynda. Wait for the beep, then tell me what you need.”
“Liz? Chere, are you there?”
Liz gasped at the sound of Jack’s voice. Then she bolted off the couch and got her feet tangled in an afghan as she tripped her way across the carpet to the phone. She yanked it up just as he’d started to speak again. “Jack, I’m here.”
“I’m so glad,” he said, his tone familiar, wonderfully warm. “I’ve missed your voice, darlin’.”
“You have?”
“I’ve got so much to explain to you, chere. But I don’t wanna do it on the phone—I wanna see your face. That is, if you’ll see me.”
Liz nearly couldn’t answer, too pent-up with emotion. Finally, she managed to say, “Yes. I will, Jack. I will.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Can I make dinner for you, here at my place?”
Liz had missed the cozy privacy of his apartment and couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather see him. “That…would be nice,” she struggled to get out.
“Seven?”
She glanced at the clock, then down at herself. She had a lot of grooming to do. “Seven-thirty.”
“I can’t wait, chere.”
“I’ll…be there,” she said. Hanging up the phone, she fell back into the nearest easy chair.
What had just happened here? Was she feeling too happy too fast? This didn’t mean he loved her—it didn’t even mean he wanted to get back together. But he’d sounded so sexy, so seductive. And the important thing was that she would see him in only a couple of hours. And that the night, like every night in the French Quarter, was full of possibilities.
* * * * *
She showed up in a long, pretty, flowing dress that bloomed with tiny blue and purple flowers and made her look like some kind of beautiful storybook fairy princess. Well, a sexy storybook fairy princess, because the dress clung to her curves and possessed a low v-neck that instantly made Jack want to kiss the shadowy valley between her breasts and run his hands over her lush curves. He checked the urge and hoped he’d have the chance later. “It’s good to see you,” he said, standing back to let her in.
Her smile—the sweet, timid one he’d seen on more than a few occasions—seemed to radiate through him. “You, too.”
He took her hand—merde, just to touch her again was so damn good—and led her out onto the balcony. He held out her chair as
she sat down at the table he’d set with good dishes and linen napkins, and even a small vase of fresh flowers.
She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “This looks so nice.”
“It’s all for you, chere. I hope you like it.”
Her smile said yes, and he couldn’t help smiling back.
After reaching into the ice bucket he’d brought out earlier, then pouring wine in two stemmed glasses, he returned to the kitchen where he’d prepared a Cajun feast. He hoped he’d made a good decision, but deep inside he wasn’t worried—something told him he had.
“I never asked if you like Cajun food, darlin,’ but if this doesn’t suit you, just say so and we’ll order somethin’ in.” With that, he set down a large plate for each of them, both heaping with piles of his homemade jambalaya, red beans and rice, Cajun shrimp, and crawfish cakes.
She cast a tentative smile as she lifted her gaze from the plate to his eyes. “To tell you the truth, in all the time I’ve been here, I’ve never really tried any Cajun food.”
Taking a seat across from her, he raised playful eyebrows. “An adventurous girl like you?”
She laughed lightly. “As you well know, I didn’t used to be so adventurous. And I suppose my taste in food was a lot like me—I’ve always played it safe. When I go to a restaurant, I order something tried and true.”
He tilted his head. “Mais, are you willin’ to try this, or should we get somethin’ else? I don’t mind if you’d rather go for a steak and baked potato.”
She reached for her fork. “As you said, I’m much more adventurous now, so I’ll give this a try.”
Jack watched as she lifted a bite of his jambalaya to her lovely berry lips. A moment later, she gave him another smile. “Spicy, but I like it.”
He couldn’t help laughing. In one simple sentence, she’d summed up his feelings for her.
One by one, she tried each of the other dishes, and one by one, she gave her approval, finally thanking him for introducing her to so many Cajun delicacies all at once. “I didn’t really know how much I liked hot things before.”
Again, he grinned at her unintended double entendre. This time he couldn’t help himself from saying, “I did, chere.”
She blushed and he laughed. “Darlin’, there you go again.”
“Old habit,” she said, swallowing, looking nervous. “And…I haven’t seen you in a while. I suppose my comfort level has…faded a little.”
“My fault,” he supplied. “And I need to tell you why.”
She blinked, looking interested in what he had to say, and reached for her wine. “I’d like to know…what happened. I mean, I know it was me who changed my mind about moving in with you, but I never wanted to stop seeing you.”
He tilted his head, wanting to get the truth on the table right now. He wanted her honesty back, every blunt, lovely, raw part of it. “You didn’t change your mind about movin’ in with me, chere. Todd changed it for you.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Darlin’, I hid some surveillance cameras in Todd’s house, but then I fell behind on my work, so it took me this long to get around to lookin’ at ‘em all. Late last night I watched the tape from that day after you said you’d come live with me. I saw his threats, Liz. I know why you sent that message now.”
He shook his head, continuing. “But back then…I didn’t understand. I was just hurt, and angry. I thought you didn’t want to be with me…be with me in a way that means somethin’, a way that lasts. I fucked up. I should’ve called you. I was an idiot to go runnin’ in the opposite direction, but I was afraid of exactly that—of gettin’ hurt, and I didn’t want to get hurt any worse than I already was. I was so wrapped up in my own feelings that I didn’t spend enough time tryin’ to figure out yours.” And the truth, of course, was that he still didn’t know her feelings, not really. He hoped she cared for him, hoped she wanted the same thing he did from their relationship. But he wasn’t going to push that right now. There was more to tell her.
“I took that tape to the police this mornin’, chere. They were real interested, especially when I filled ‘em in on his threats and his attack on you. He hasn’t really done anything they can arrest him for without you or Lynda pressin’ charges, and they said they wouldn’t even recommend that, Todd bein’ a pretty slick guy in terms of credentials and corporate backing, and the incidents bein’ unprovable other than the one on tape, which is inadmissible. But you don’t have to worry anymore because a couple guys down at the precinct are gonna make enough trouble for him that you won’t hear from him again.”
She looked astonished. “How can you be sure? What are they going to do?”
“First they’re gonna have a little talk with old Todd, tell him what they know, then suggest he clear outta New Orleans, ask his bosses for a transfer somewhere else. If he’s too stupid to do that, they’ll do it for him—they’ll let his company know exactly what sorta shit he’s been up to and explain that it’s in everyone’s best interest for Todd to relocate.” He gave her a knowing grin. “And trust me, darlin’—these guys can be pretty persuasive.”
In that very moment, Liz felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders. It was as if she’d been holding her breath for a very long time and now could suddenly breathe again. Perhaps she’d managed to keep Todd out of her thoughts, but she supposed he’d never really been out of her mind completely—except for those wonderful, wild nights she’d spent with Jack. Now, suddenly, it was as if Todd and his ugly threats had been banished from her head and her heart for good. Jack had, amazingly, just succeeded in wiping them all away.
“Jack, I can’t thank you enough for this. I can’t tell you what a burden you’ve just taken away from me.”
He shook his head. “Don’t thank me, darlin’. I didn’t have any other choice. I couldn’t rest easy until that guy was outta your life for good. I only hope maybe it makes up just a little for my shitty behavior.”
“Jack, I—”
“Shh, wait.” He reached across the table for her hand. “I have to say somethin’, right now. I can’t let another minute pass.” He paused, took a deep breath, and Liz got lost in the depths of his dark, consuming gaze. “I’m so sorry, chere. Is there any way you can forgive me?”
A rush of pure joy invaded Liz’s lungs, her whole body, her whole being. “Yes,” she said. Then more emphatically, “Yes.”
For a long moment, only silence stretched between them as they gazed into each other’s eyes across the table. Night was falling in the Quarter; in the distance, someone played a saxophone, and bits of neon began to light yet another evening of excitement and decadence on the other end of Bourbon Street. But Liz was barely aware of anything else but the man before her, the man whose eyes at once seemed to cherish her and ravish her, the man who embraced every part of her, from the shy to the wanton.
Finally, Jack spoke, his voice low and filled with seduction. “I’ve missed bein’ inside you, chere. I’ve missed it so bad it’s like I can’t breathe.”
She glanced down at her breasts, felt the warm familiar stirrings between her legs, thought of something she wanted to tell him and almost didn’t, too shy, but then remembered—with Jack, she didn’t have to be shy. Jack would want to know. “Last night,” she began, lifting her eyes, “I fucked myself with the vibrator you gave me and I pretended you were watching me.”
His eyes fell closed for a moment, his jaw dropping slightly—she loved how taken aback and breathless he appeared. His voice was no more than a rasp. “Did you make yourself come?”
She nodded, feeling nearly as weak now as he looked.
“Was it good, baby?”
Another nod. “But afterward…I was so sad. I missed you. I wanted it to be you inside me.”
He rose from his chair and took her hands, guiding her to her feet, as well. His palms rose gently to her cheeks and his mouth descended on hers—strong, sweet, firm, his kiss filled with a desperation she’d never felt before. She kissed him back with
out reserve—the sexy honesty she’d just dished out had filled her with heat and readiness and the sense that with Jack, she didn’t need to hold anything back, nothing at all. He got to have all of her. And tonight there wouldn’t be anyone but the two of them making each other’s bodies echo with pleasure.
His hands eased down to her shoulders, onto her breasts, where they tenderly squeezed, and then his fingertips closed around her nipples through the dress and bra, and she was moaning without thought, and whispering up to him the words that kept playing in her brain. “Fuck me, Jack. Please fuck me. Now.”
He took both her hands and silently drew her in through the open French doors.
Her body ached for him. She wanted him to devour her.
Without ever letting his eyes leave hers, he reached around behind her, found the zipper at her back, and slowly lowered it, each painstaking inch seeming like a mile. Then his strong hands were on her back, roaming in a hot, lingering caress, until they came to her shoulders to peel the dress down, letting it fall to her hips. Not wanting to stretch anything out this time, she wiggled slightly and the fabric dropped at her feet.
Jack’s gaze traveled the length of her, taking in the blue lace bra and thong, and the strappy heels the color of warm cream. “Mmm, chere, you look good enough to eat.”
She pinned him with a wicked look. “This is what I wore for you on the night you threw Todd out. This is what you never got to see.”
Jack gave his head a short shake. “Don’t mention his name. I don’t wanna think about anything bad here—just me and you and all this pretty blue lace.”
His words burned through her, again reminding her how anxious she was. It wasn’t like her, this urge to rush, but having Jack’s hands on her again—even just his eyes—was getting her hot to the point of combustion. She’d been missing him too long. Her pussy throbbed and her thighs ached. Her breasts seared with need, as well, her nipples hard and pointed just inside the low scalloped edge of her bra. She whispered again. “Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me so hard I scream.”
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