by Leger, Lori
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you a watched pot never boils?”
Drake turned to answer the woman he recognized as a friend of Red and Tiffany’s. “Sorry, I’m a little preoccupied.”
“Looks as though you’ve grown accustomed to worrying about her.”
He nodded. “I’m warning you. I’ll be lousy company until they get here.” He fidgeted under Angelique Baptiste’s studious gaze.
“I think you must care about her a great deal.”
“Does it show?”
Her head tilted in amusement. “Absolument! So why are you here instead of there with her?”
“I’d like to be. It’s not what she wants. Not now, anyway.”
“Ah, yes.” Angelique gave him a knowing smile. “She’s been hurt before. She’s afraid you’ll hurt her, too. Would you, Drake?”
Drake shifted his gaze to the door, this time to be rewarded by the sight of Annie walking in, followed closely by Nash. His broad smile covered his face, transforming his mood instantly. “Not for anything in the world.”
“Bon Dieu, you’re definitely in love with her.”
Drake stood as Annie made a bee line for their table. “That, I am.”
Angelique turned toward the door and gave a startled gasp. “Holy Mother, he is with her.”
Drake grinned, recognizing blatant sexual attraction when he saw it. “You mean Nash? Have you met?”
She nodded. “I certainly have. Cher bon Dieu, let him be a dancer, sil vous plait!”
Annie and Nash began the long walk from the door to the table where Drake sat. Her heart skipped a beat when he stood, then again when he started walking to meet them halfway. She tried not to think about how good he looked in his contemporary cowboy attire. Jeans, a tailored navy blue shirt, western in cut, wearing a pair of high-end boots, and carrying a black Stetson. She’d tried to tell herself she wasn’t dressing to please him tonight. He was only one of many men who would be at the club. He was one of a few men who may want to dance with her, or who may want to take her home with them. He, along with any others, would be disappointed when she told him no.
But her outfit tonight consisted of a short skirt, made of brown suede material, paired with knee-high stacked-heel-boots, and a form-fitting tan sweater. It was almost exactly the same outfit she’d worn the night she met him, and she’d worn it purposely. Call her a glutton for punishment, but she was curious to see if he’d remember what she’d worn that night. The tan sweater didn’t show yet because she’d also thrown on her brown suede jacket that matched the skirt.
Drake met her with a smile and a quick hug before shaking her ex-bodyguard’s hand. “Glad to see the both of you here. Nash, our table’s over there in that corner.”
Nash looked in the direction Drake had pointed and released a low whistle of admiration. “Holy crap. Angelique’s here.”
Drake grinned at him. “Yeah, she seemed damned glad to see you, too, for some reason. I didn’t realize you two had met.”
“Once in person, but several times in my dreams since then.” Nash winked at his two former housemates. “Things are definitely looking up.”
They made their way to the table, where Nash stopped in front of Angelique.
“Hello gorgeous, you interested in dancing with this old boy?”
She cast a glance down at his boots. “You’re not going to step on my feet with those things are you, Liam? I’m not sure I’d recover.”
Nash shook his head. “No ma’am, I won’t. My Mom always said I learned to dance before I learned to walk, but you won’t find out by sittin’ on that pretty little butt of yours.”
Angelique flashed him a brilliant smile as he helped her from the chair.
Annie watched them walk off. “He doesn’t waste time, does he?”
“No reason to, once you know what you want, Annie Girl.”
She tried to avoid his gaze in order to retain some semblance of a normal speech pattern. Even then it didn’t stop her cheeks from heating under his perusal. She cleared her throat. “Are you settled in at your place?”
“Yes, and I hate it. The house is too damn quiet. No pets, no Nash—” He reached out to brush back a lock of her hair. “No you.”
His outstretched hand came into her field of vision.
“Dance with me?”
Annie scanned the dance floor. Nash and Angelique were there, already wrapped in each other’s presence, swaying to the slow belly-rubber from the country band. “Not to this. Ask me again when they play something less—”
“Tempting?” he finished for her.
“I was going to say slow.”
“Coward.”
“Absolutely.” She headed off toward the bar without a backward glance.
Carrying their drinks, he followed her to the table as though there was a magic cord connecting them. She stopped to remove her jacket. He set the drinks on the table to help her out of it.
He lowered his head to her neck as he slid the suede slowly down her arms, breathing in the heady scent of her that turned him into a single minded man with a mission. God, if he could just get her alone for five minutes.
He draped the jacket over the back of her chair and pulled it out for her. She seated herself and scooted the chair closer to the table. He pulled out the chair next to her. “Nice threads,” he said, pausing at the flash of disappointment registering on her face. He waited for her to give him a polite thank you before leaning in close so she could hear him. “I liked that outfit better with the tall heels you wore with it the night we met. Those boots cover up entirely too much of your gorgeous legs.”
She turned to face him, obviously surprised at his confession. Drake lowered his head for a moment, trying to hide his satisfaction at her wanting him to recognize what she’d worn at their first meeting.
“You know, Annie, after meeting you, that night, I’d wake up wanting you so bad I couldn’t stand it. Almost every damned night. I’d get out of bed and roam my apartment like a mad man. On the few nights I didn’t dream about you, I got a full night’s sleep, but would have gladly given it up for one more sight of you. One more glimpse of you in that skirt, that sweater, and a pair of stiletto heels that accentuated the most perfectly shaped calves I’ve ever seen on any woman before, or since.” He dropped his gaze, perusing her from head to toe.
Time to put the next step of Operation Annie into action.
Annie struggled for breath, her heart pounding frantically. Heat started at her neck, rose to cover her cheeks. Drake’s blatant proclamation succeeded in heating her through and through.
She nodded at something he asked her, without hearing the question.
“Are you sure?”
She blinked. “What?”
“I asked if you were all right. You look kind of shook up.”
She nodded, focusing on his eyes. She saw a flash of it first. A smug, self-satisfied look because he’d rendered her speechless, however temporary the situation. She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. Hell if she’d come this far and gone through this much to let him get the upper hand. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath to steel herself against his attack on her independence. She reopened them, staring at the empty spot he’d previously occupied. What the hell? She looked around, only to find him leaning over Angelique and speaking to her. Both Angelique and Nash laughed at something Drake said before the gorgeous woman placed her long, graceful hand into his as he led her onto the dance floor.
Annie watched, feeling hopelessly abandoned, as the two beautiful people swayed together gracefully to a sultry, slow, country ballad. She tried to pull her gaze from them, tried not to succumb to the surge of hurt and jealousy as she watched Drake lean closer to his partner and whisper something into her ear. Something that had her throwing her head back in laughter.
“Is she watching us?”
“Oh yes, and it’s eating her up. She wants you Drake. She wants you badly.”
“Are you sure she’s not just
pissed at me? She’s got a pretty bad temper, you know. I only want her to realize she wants me, not to hate either of us in the process.”
“Oh, she’ll hate you all right, sha, but only because you make her want you so much. That lady is certainment in amour with you.”
“I don’t parlay the fran-say, Angie, so let me have it again in East Texan if you can.”
Angelique chuckled. “I said she is certainly in love with you, mon ami. Oops, that would be my friend in East Texan.”
Drake was so shocked by her presumption, that he missed a step in the dance. He picked it up again and shook his head. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Are you sure this is the right way to handle her?”
Drake nodded. “Absolutely. I’ve told her how I feel; I’ve chased her, pleaded with her, and insisted how good we would be together. I just told her how I used to wake up every night wanting her, and when I walked away from her she was bracing herself to turn me down, again, because she’s afraid to let herself care too much.”
He shook his head, frustrated as hell at the situation. “I don’t know what else to do to convince her, so I decided to handle it differently this time.” He sent her a hopeful look. “I’m throwing it all out there on this one, so wish me luck.”
Angelique gave him a nod. “Bon chance, Monsieur LeBlanc.”
Drake’s brow furrowed. “Thank you. I think.”
Angelique’s laughter rang out. “Good luck, silly man!”
Annie finally tore her gaze from Drake and Angelique. What the hell did she care if he danced with another woman? She told him she wouldn’t dance anymore slow ones with him, so he had every right to make love with a near stranger on the middle of the dance floor. “Son of a bitch,” she whispered under her breath.
“I hope you’re not talking about me.”
She turned as Red sat beside her, and forced herself to smile. “Hey big brother. Nice turn out. You have a knack for making a place successful.”
“Thanks. Who were you cussing like that?”
“Nobody. I just realized I was getting another migraine.” She made a show of rubbing her temples.
“Did you bring your medicine this time?” he asked, as always, concerned for her.
She nodded. “Yes, I put one in the glove compartment of my car before I left the house. I’d better go before it gets too bad to drive home.”
“Are you sure you don’t want somebody to bring you? I can’t leave but I’ll bet Nash or Drake wouldn’t mind. Let me go get Drake for you.”
“No!” She made a grab for Red’s arm. “I can make it just fine.”
“All right, but call me if you get too sick to make it all the way.”
She nodded, grabbed her jacket and purse, and started making her way to the exit. As soon as she broke free from the edge of the crowd she felt a hand grab her arm. She swung around to face Drake.
“Red told me you may be getting another migraine. Need any help?”
“All the signs—blurry vision—flashes of light,” she lied, thinking if she kept this up she’d have a lot to confess to Father Mitch next time around. “I’ll be fine, but I have an injection in my car.”
“How about Nash? Did he ride with you?”
“Separate vehicles. He’s in the Holiday Inn down the street for tonight.”
Drake nodded. “Annie, if you need me at all … for anything … I hope you know you can call. That’s what friends are for, right?”
She blinked several times, not knowing why she suddenly felt like crying. “Friends.” She managed a nod, biting her bottom lip to keep from blubbering.
“You don’t seem to want anything else, so I’ve decided to stop pestering you. We can both go on about our lives, and when we see each other we’ll say hi, and be able to talk like friends … right?”
“Right.” She smiled too broadly. Nodded too animatedly. Made a big show of agreeing with him.
“Good!” He took a step closer. “Take care, Annie.”
She stood there as he leaned over to give her a friendly peck on the cheek, as well as a friendly pat on the arm. He started to walk away.
Just when Annie was about to turn for the door, he called to her again. She looked hopefully back at him.
“Hey, if you change your mind, just let me know. You know, about needing any help getting home … because of the migraine and all.” He smiled, gave her a little wink, and turned to walk away. Within seconds, he’d disappeared into the throng of people. Out of her sight.
She turned toward the door and suddenly froze. An irrational wave of anxiety gripped her insides. She told herself there was no reason to be terrified to walk out there alone. There was no J.B. Montgomery out there waiting for her. No would-be-rapists, or murderers, or monsters hiding in the dark.
So why couldn’t she take a step?
Drake watched Annie from the inner edge of the crowd. She faced the door and froze, and he knew as sure as he knew his own name, she was terrified to walk out there. Terrified of meeting J.B. out there, or someone else just like him.
She turned back to the crowd of dancers, scanned the area, as if she was searching for him. “Me? Are you looking for me, Annie?”
He physically ached to go to her, but knew she needed to do this for herself. He wanted her, but he wanted all of her. Every volatile, beautiful, self-sufficient, independent, moody, sarcastic, lovable, funny, sexy inch of her. Most of all, he wanted her willing, coming to him freely, and not because she needed a protector. He wanted her brave enough to face the world alone, but still willing to have him be a part of it.
His heart surged when she turned back toward the exit. He felt the struggle within her. Saw her take one step toward the door, then another, then a third. Drake’s chest puffed with pride as the beautiful, strong woman he loved straightened her spine, lifted her chin in determination, and walked out the door. He smiled, nodding to himself. “That’s my girl.”
He returned to the table, resisting the urge to run after her, or at the very least, call her. He danced with several members of their party, trying to make the best of an evening without Annie present. Several dances later, Drake thanked Tiffany for the dance and brought her back to Red. He’d just sat down when Nash pulled his phone from his pocket. He watched him answer, his heart tight with panic as Nash’s horrified gaze locked onto his. He was already out of his chair before Nash uttered those dreaded words.
“Montgomery escaped.”
Drake barreled his way to the nearest exit, knowing in his gut where the sadistic bastard would go first. Annie had been gone for over thirty minutes already. He prayed she would be able to lock herself up safely by the time J.B. got there. He pictured her as he’d found her that day, curled up in a ball on the floor of his room. The image made him physically sick but he shook it off. No time for that now—he had to get to her.
Within seconds of reaching his truck, he’d peeled out of the parking lot, and was on his way to Annie.
Annie made the drive home at a leisurely pace, using the time to think—to wonder why she felt at odds with herself tonight. She finally pulled into her drive and let herself inside through the kitchen door off the carport. Lewis called to her loudly with his typical “Annie’s home!” Preoccupied, she passed his cage, nearly tripped over Martin as she stepped inside. The cat wove himself around her legs then looked toward the door, as though expecting someone else. Annie bent to pick him up and rubbed her chin on the scruff of his neck before setting him back down.
“Sorry to disappoint you gentlemen, but it’s back to just me, tonight and every night. Get used to it.” She locked up, but disarmed the alarm system, wanting to prove to herself there was no reason to fear being alone in her own home. She could do this—without a bodyguard, or any other man, for that matter.
She went to her bedroom, her mind muddled with thoughts of Drake, and changed into her flannel pajamas. Afterward, she went into the bathroom and washed the make-up fro
m her face.
Annie had just pulled the comforter back on her bed, ready to climb in when she heard the sound of a door opening in the other part of the house. Drake hadn’t returned her keys. It had to be him. She smiled, had just started for the door when Lewis began to squawk frantically.
“Stranger danger! Annie—get your gun!”
Annie froze in terror as Martin came running into the bedroom to meet her. The sound of footsteps in the hallway had her lunging for the door. She slammed it shut just as a hand with a disturbingly familiar tattoo reached for the knob. She turned the lock the instant it was closed then shoved her chair under the knob. A flashback of Drake forcing the door of the guest room open even with the chair shoved under it.
The last thing she needed was to get stuck in that room with J.B. She ran to the window and opened it as quietly as she could. She fumbled with the key until she heard the locking mechanism open, but the iron grill wouldn’t budge. She jiggled it, panicked bile rising in her throat at a sudden realization. She was a prisoner in her own bedroom. Annie reached for the bedroom phone to call for help. Nothing—completely dead. She slammed the phone down, made a futile attempt to find her purse. Her shoulders sagged as she pictured it, hanging on the hook by the door, her phone securely snapped into its side pocket. Damn! Damn! Triple damn! She froze at the sound of J.B.’s evil chuckle through the door.
“Yeah, I cut the phone line,” J.B. crowed. “That alarm system won’t work without it. Not only that, but I made damn sure you couldn’t escape through the window. Kind of ass-chappin’, ain’t it sweet cheeks? All this security and now you’re a prisoner in your own home.”
He must have heard her soft curse because his sadistic, blood-chilling laughter reached her from the hallway.
“I bet you didn’t think you’d hear from me again, did you, sweet thang?” J.B. issued another evil chuckle. “You know, it was easy enough getting away from that stupid cop, and if I was a smart man, I’d be halfway to Arkansas by now, but ain’t nobody ever accused me a’bein’ too damn smart.”