by Lora Leigh
Slade watched him doubtfully then. “She’s Jessie’s best friend, Jazz. Do you really think that would work?”
The two women were a lot alike in some ways, they’d observed over the past two years. So much so that Jazz suspected Annie would be just as stubborn as Jessie. But with Annie, he had a feeling they had more to fear than her anger. Annie would run.
“We do have options, though.” Picking up the flash drive, Slade stared at it for long moments before closing his fingers on the small device. “I’ll get a copy of this to you two in the next thirty minutes. Then I’ll start making some calls, see what I have to work with.” The look he gave Jazz was a warning. “Look, I know you’re interested in her, but don’t play with her, Jazz. Jessie will just get pissed off at both of us. If Annie gets hurt while she’s in trouble, then we just may get hurt as well.”
Sometimes Slade was far too intimidated by his delicate wife. And far too tightly wrapped around her little finger.
“Fuck you,” Jazz growled. “Go take care of that little busybody you married and leave Annie—or whoever the hell she is—to me. That way, you and I don’t end up pissed at each other again.”
They’d spent the past year glaring at each other the way it was. Jazz would do something that would worry or upset Jessie, then Slade would rip into Jazz’s ass. Hell, he was starting to feel like he’d acquired fucking parents. Something he sure as hell didn’t need at this late date.
“Don’t go off half-cocked, Jazz…”
He flashed his friend a confident, reckless smile.
“Hell, I’m always fully cocked when I go off, Slade, you know that,” he drawled as he hid the tension building inside him from his friend. “Now get off my ass about it.”
He had known too many things were off with Annie and he’d ignored the internal knowledge and warnings. Instead, he’d let her think she was fooling him, let her think she was watching him while he was slowly trying to draw her in, and she could have been in danger the whole time.
Bolting the door after Slade and Zack left, Jazz moved to the laptop he kept locked in a drawer and drew it free. Sliding into the leather recliner Cord had vacated earlier, he powered it up and signed into his email account.
Cord and Slade had their contacts; well, Jazz had his, too. Jazz knew a lot of women. Not all of them had been in his bed; a few of them he’d be wary of in a dark alley. There were a couple, though that he knew he could trust with his back at any time. Two of those ladies were damned dangerous in their own right. And if he was a betting man, they could acquire more information on Annie than Cord or Slade could dig up in twice the time.
Women, he’d learned over the years, were a hell of a lot smarter and most of the time more dangerous, than men ever gave them credit for.
It was because they were so damned pretty, and soft and sweet. Because they had such silken lips and delicate fingers that could bring such pleasure. They weren’t hard and powerful like a man, so a man just didn’t expect the wallop they could pack.
Jazz liked to think he was a bit smarter than most men. He never assumed a gently curved woman with a winsome face and painted nails couldn’t throw a punch or pull a trigger. He damned well knew they could. And there were a few who killed the bad guys and felt good about it when they went to sleep at night.
Kate and Lara Blanchard were just such women. He’d covered their backs and saved their asses. More than once, actually. Now he was calling in the markers. He needed information. And he just might need them to cover Annie’s ass for a bit while they were at it.
As he sent the emails Jazz could feel his gut roiling. Learning part of Annie’s secrets had finally eased that nagging itch he hadn’t been able to locate.
The itch was Annie.
It was hazel eyes that he knew weren’t really hazel. Soft, light-brown hair that he knew was dyed. It was the way she stayed in the shadows when he could sense the hunger to come out and play. It was the way she moved, always ready to run. She was always ready to fight.
Whoever she was, she wasn’t the quiet, soft-spoken teacher everyone had gotten to know in the past two years. She wasn’t anything like the women who had shared his bed in the past, either. He’d known that Annie was different. And it was a difference he was going to figure out whether she wanted it figured out or not.
CHAPTER 3
In the two years since Kenni’s return to Loudoun, she’d seen Jazz in a variety of moods. Being Jessie’s best friend had allowed her to see him more often than she would have otherwise, though learning his connections to the Kin wasn’t nearly as easy. Being part of Jessie’s small, tight-knit circle of friends had ensured she and Jazz socialized fairly often. Kenni made certain they didn’t share small talk as a consequence though. Sometimes, she simply forgot to keep her guard up where he was concerned, and that could be far too dangerous.
Not that it had been hard to avoid him for the first year or so. It hadn’t. Jazz had been a lot busier while helping Zack run the small construction firm the three of them owned before Slade’s return. After Slade and Jessie married, that had changed. Suddenly Jazz seemed to realize she was there and that she was female.
A female whose bed he hadn’t been in yet.
Loudoun’s playboy had pursued her off and on since, alternately teasing, arrogant, and just plain infuriating. The one constant had been that curious, almost puzzled look at odd moments. As though he was trying to figure her out. As though he was trying to take what he knew and use it to explain what he didn’t.
As he was doing two nights later at Slade and Jessie’s.
His brilliant-blue eyes were trained on her, narrowed and intense behind that lush veil of black lashes.
His conversation with Slade was sporadic at best as they stood next to the gas grill on the back patio of Slade and Jessie’s home. Jazz was leaning lazily against the deck railing, holding a bottle of beer in one hand. He sipped at it with absent movements, his expression brooding, the gleam of curiosity and suspicion in his eyes making her distinctly wary.
“Jessie, didn’t you tell Jazz to stop trying to seduce me?” she asked her friend as Jessie moved around the kitchen behind her.
“That’s rather like telling a leopard to change its spots,” Jessie stated with a hint of laughter in her voice. “But I did try.”
Jessie didn’t seem too offended by the fact that her alley-cat friend wouldn’t stop trying to seduce her other friend.
“Did you do it without laughing?” she sniffed at the carefully contained laughter in her friend’s voice.
Jessie did laugh then. The sound was affectionate, cheerful, but not in the least concerned that Jazz was ignoring her request.
“Well, tell him to stop dissecting me with his eyes now,” she muttered as she tore lettuce into a large bowl for salad. He was making her nervous. It was distinctly uncomfortable.
“Jazz,” Jessie called out, much to Kenni’s chagrin. “Stop dissecting Annie with your eyes, please.”
The curiosity on his face turned to amused disappointment as he shook his head at her. Kenni could only roll her eyes at the complete uselessness of the attempt. Evidently Jessie had pretty much given up trying to convince Jazz to leave Kenni alone. That, or her friend was secretly cheering the lecherous man. She didn’t doubt that one, either.
“He’s not very well trained.” Jessie’s laughter spilled into her voice as she made the observation. “I’m sure he just needs a firm, feminine hand and he’ll tame right down.”
Kenni turned her head slowly to shoot the other woman a glare. “Stop trying to encourage him, then?”
Jessie only spread her hands and gave Kenni a helpless look. “I just did as you asked, right?”
“Yeah, right,” she muttered, turning back to the salad ingredients she was prepping as Jessie finished making sweet tea and filling a pitcher with ice.
Setting the lettuce aside, she pulled the celery and carrots into its place and began dicing them. She had to force herself to focus on the j
ob because her eyes kept straying to Jazz. The feel of him watching her, his gaze piercing, demanding the answers to whatever questions gleamed in his eyes, was distinctly unsettling. Hell, he was even making her hands tremble in nervous reaction. No one had ever …
A sudden sharp, slicing pain jerked her attention back to the knife and the blood spilling from her upper palm where the blade had somehow sliced her flesh.
Blinking, she stared at the scarlet fluid spilling from her hand in confusion. How had she done that?
“Oh my God, Annie…!” Jessie cried out behind her as both Slade and Jazz rushed into the kitchen.
Slade grabbed a dry dish towel from the top of the counter and wrapped it around her palm, applying pressure as Jazz took the knife from her other hand.
It all happened so fast. Blinking in disbelief, she watched as Slade eased the towel back from her hand several minutes later to reveal a shallow, bloody gash.
“This is all your fault,” she said, glaring at Jazz as he pushed Slade’s hand back, checked the wound, then folded it over again to apply firmer pressure.
“Sure it is,” he agreed with completely false regret.
“If you hadn’t been staring at me like a hungry mongrel,” she all but hissed, trying to pull her hand from his grip.
“Stay still, darlin’,” he demanded gently, ignoring the insult while retaining his grip. “Slade and Jessie went for bandages, we’ll have you all fixed up in just a few minutes.”
“It takes both of them to get a friggin’ Band-Aid?” she snapped. It could take hours if they managed to become distracted with each other. Just what she needed.
“This will take a bit more than a Band-Aid,” he promised, peeling the edge of the cloth back again to check for bleeding. “I think you need stitches.”
Blood was still seeping from the cut, staining Jessie’s dish towel as Kenni stared at it in disgust.
“It doesn’t need stitches.” She couldn’t believe she’d done something so damned stupid. “Just give me a stupid bandage.” A big one maybe.
She knew better than to let herself become so distracted while wielding a blade of any kind. It was one the first things Gunny had taught her when he’d put one in her hand.
“Scared of needles?” he asked, surprise reflecting in his voice as he stared down at her.
“Yeah, terrified.” She deliberately didn’t look at him as she lied to him.
If she was scared of needles, she would have been in trouble that first night when a bullet had lodged in her shoulder as her uncle raced from a burning hotel with her. She’d learned the next day the hell of having the bullet cut from her flesh with no anesthesia, no hospital support staff or doctor’s care. Just Gunny’s knife, the whiskey he’d made her drink first and his hoarse voice apologizing as she screamed in agony.
The memory flashed through her head, causing her to inhale roughly before pushing the memory back just as quickly. She didn’t need stitches and she didn’t need Jazz babying her.
“I said I was fine.” A quick jerk of her hand and she was free, putting several feet between them as she checked the wound herself.
“Damn, you are the meanest woman I know,” he retorted as he moved behind her and picked up the cloth before looking over her shoulder at her palm. “What would it take to get you to chill out?”
“What would it take to make you stop staring at me like you’re trying to dissect me?” she countered as she bit back a curse at the pain radiating from her palm. “I’m going to have to stop accepting Jessie’s invitations because you’re making me uncomfortable.”
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t work, but the threat was worth a try.
“Yeah, she’ll let you get away with that this month just as easily as you got away with it last month,” he snorted as she rolled her eyes in disgust. Jessie and her big mouth. “Keep your hand under the water while I rinse the dish towel in the laundry room. I don’t need her yelling at me because you’re still bleeding or because I threw the towel on the floor.”
Turning sideways, she shot his back a glare as he disappeared into the laundry room. Moments later the sound of water running and the strong scent of bleach assured her that at least she didn’t have to worry about DNA lying around.
Not that Slade seemed suspicious of anything. From the day Jessie had introduced Kenni to Slade, he’d just seemed to accept her. She was Jessie’s friend and it was that simple.
Not that she thought anything could be that simple with Slade Colter. No doubt he’d checked the background she’d submitted when applying for the teaching position. Kenni was confident it would hold up unless Slade went personally to the California university where Annie Mayes had attained her teaching degree. That might present a problem.
And it might not.
“Let me see.” Jazz pulled her hand from the water as Jessie and Slade moved back into the kitchen carrying a first-aid kit.
“It’s fine.” She tried to jerk her hand from his grip again, only to find he was just as determined to hold on to it.
“Stay still for a change,” he growled as Jessie moved to her side. “Let me bandage your hand and Jessie can finish the salad so we can eat sometime tonight.”
Let him do it? The very thought was shocking. How long had it been since anyone, even Gunny, had helped bandage a wound for her? Gunny made her do it unless she simply couldn’t reach it and the damage was too severe to go untreated.
“That means it’s time to put on the steaks,” Slade announced as he moved to the fridge for the platter of steaks Jessie had been marinating.
“This is ridiculous.” Eyeing her friend as she handed over the first-aid box to Jazz, Kenni let herself be pushed into the kitchen chair as Jazz pulled another close enough to prop Kenni’s hand against his knee.
“You can’t ignore a cut. What if it gets infected? That’s dangerous, Annie,” he assured her, but there was a sparkle of amused fun in his blue eyes that had her frowning back at him.
“You’re so enjoying this,” Kenni accused him.
“Of course I am.” The playful smile on his lips dared her to join in and tease him in return. “Knowing it irritates you just makes me enjoy it more, too.”
She knew better but still it was so hard to hold herself back. She wanted nothing more than to see which of them could push the other the farthest.
Dangerous. So very dangerous.
Instead she ducked her head, watching as he carefully coated the wound with an antibiotic ointment before applying gauze and taping it in place. He bandaged the area efficiently, careful not to apply too much pressure to the reddened skin while ensuring it was properly taken care of.
Hell, all she needed was one of the big Band-Aids. It really wasn’t that severe.
“There you go. See how well I can take care of these little things, Annie?” Lifting his head he stared into her eyes, lashes lowered, the drowsy arousal in his blue gaze causing her to swallow tightly.
“Stop trying to seduce me, Jazz,” she ordered, her own voice low, hoping Jessie couldn’t overhear the conversation. “I don’t have time for you and I sure as hell don’t want to be hurt by you.”
Black brows lowered heavily as he frowned back at her, his expression was no longer teasing. Deep sapphire eyes were somber now and far too intent to ignore. “I’d never hurt you, Annie.”
He would pleasure her until she was screaming from it. He would make her ache for more, beg for more, until she was screaming his name in desperation. Then the day would come, and it wouldn’t take long, that it would be over. She would be without his touch, his smile, and his laughter, and everything bright in the world would dim.
“You would destroy me,” she whispered, knowing it was true. “I’m not one of those women you can seduce and then remain friends with, so please don’t try because we’d both regret it.”
His lips parted, though whether it was to agree or object she didn’t know.
“Steaks are almost ready,” Slade called out. “You have the
rest of it, Jessie?”
“Salad’s finished and the rest is in the fridge,” she called back to him. “I’m just waiting for Jazz to finish playing Doctor Feel Good so I can set the table.”
Doctor Feel Good? Give her a break.
“All done.” Jazz moved so quickly he actually surprised her. “And I’m starved. I’ll help Slade get the steaks in.”
* * *
Beautiful, beautiful little liar.
She was so fucking good. So good that Jazz didn’t know whether to be pissed off or amused. What she didn’t know was the fact that her secrets were going to be busted. He would make damned sure of it.
Once she’d helped Jessie straighten the kitchen she’d had the nerve to say good night and just leave. It wasn’t even dark yet. He hadn’t had a chance to cop a feel, steal a kiss, or piss her off before she left.
What he had managed to do was to make certain the bloody dish towel they’d pressed to her hand was bagged and prepped to send out for DNA results. When he’d seen her cut herself he’d nearly frozen in such a gut-level reaction, it had shocked him. The fact that she had been hurt had been so offensive to him that he wondered if he’d ever be able to see her with a knife in her hand again. It was obvious she needed a little practice before using one again.
“How long before the DNA results come back?” he asked Slade as they watched Annie’s taillights fade into the night.
“A few days to a week,” Slade answered absently as he propped his foot on the railing and leaned against the post of the porch. “Bridget will send me the results and I’ll match them first against the personal DNA database I’ve set up before running them on the federal program.”
If Slade was ever caught, there would be hell to pay. His fingerprint and DNA database for damned near everyone he’d come in contact with since returning to Loudoun included men and women the federal government was probably salivating for at any given moment. Unfortunately, it was 100 percent illegal as well, especially for a former federal agent.
“You think she has relatives in Loudoun?” Sometimes Slade’s suspicions went in strange directions.