“Because you didn’t want to do or say anything that might affect your marriage agreement with his father.” The flatness in his voice told her what he thought of that.
Refusing to be ashamed, she lifted her chin. “I did what I thought I had to. My family’s company was—is—in trouble. I agreed to marry Hamlin to save it. That was before I knew my father’s out-of-control spending was the reason.”
“And now that you know? Does that change anything?”
“I’m not sure.” She realized she wanted it to, for reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely yet. “Colton Energy still needs an infusion of cash. The charges against me aren’t helping our public image, either, though we’ve managed to keep most of it out of the press. It’s between the attorneys now.”
“I see.” Pushing up from the table, he carried his plate to the sink. His rigid spine and stiff movements told her what he thought of her answer.
She opened her mouth to speak and then thought better of it.
“I’m going to go out for a while,” he said, excruciatingly polite. “Goose will be here to keep you company.”
He left without a backward glance. Layla got up and went to the window, watching him drive away. That was when she understood the bubble of her fantasy had just burst. She couldn’t continue staying at Hunter’s house. Time to go back home and deal with her life the way she always tended to.
Head-on and facing reality. Luckily, the media frenzy appeared to have died down and no one would be staking out her house.
* * *
Hunter couldn’t believe how badly he’d allowed himself to be taken in by Layla’s pretty face. To be fair, she’d been nothing but honest with him, but still...to think she was still actually considering going ahead with that sham of a marriage, even now that she was aware of what her father had done.
He wanted to punch something. And, though he wasn’t really dressed for it, he knew just the place. The gym. Luckily, he kept a gym bag in the trunk.
An hour later, drenched in sweat, he felt immensely better. Clearheaded, able to think beyond the constant press of his desire for Layla. Yet her refusal to see reality drove him crazy.
It shouldn’t matter to him at all what she did. Her life choices were hers alone. He hadn’t been involved with her long enough to have a say. However, he couldn’t seem to make himself not care. Marriage was permanent, or should be, for Pete’s sake. One should marry for love, not money, or in hope of pleasing a parent who clearly had long withheld affection.
Getting in his car, he took a deep breath. While truth be told, he wanted to go home, pull Layla up against him and kiss her senseless, he knew he couldn’t. Not with something like her engagement between them. He’d never been the type of guy who poached on another man’s woman, nor would he start now. He’d only kissed her at all because he’d honestly believed once she felt the strength of the chemistry between them, she’d end her sham of an engagement. That hadn’t happened. No matter what the reason for it, Layla had agreed to marry Hamlin Harrington. If she still planned to go through with it, she would be off-limits, as far as Hunter was concerned.
Now he just needed to convince his body of that.
When he pulled up to his house, the first thing he noticed was the absence of her rental car. Slightly concerned, he parked and headed up to the back door, which was locked.
After he unlocked the door and stepped inside, Goose greeted him with her usual enthusiasm. He flipped on the lights, let his dog out in the backyard for a potty break and picked up the note Layla had left on the kitchen table.
“I thought it best if I went back home,” it said. “Thank you so much for your kindness and hospitality. Give Goose a hug for me. Layla.”
Of course. As usual, her actions made perfect sense. Why had he expected she’d stay longer?
After letting Goose in, he sat down in the living room but didn’t turn on the TV. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone, toying with the idea of calling her. Only the lateness of the hour dissuaded him.
When his phone rang, his heart stuttered. But caller ID showed it was one of his buddies at the police department. Hunter almost didn’t answer, but he knew Tim Lakely wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.
“Hey, I know you just got added to the Layla Colton case,” Tim said. “A neighbor just called in a break-in at her home. Apparently, Layla surprised an intruder midburglary.”
Damn. Jaw clenched, he struggled to respond. “Was she hurt?”
“No, at least nothing life-threatening. I’m on the scene now and she’s pretty shook up. She’s asking for you.”
“I’ll be there in a few.” Hanging up, Colton snagged his car key and told Goose he’d be back. As he hurried to his squad car, he wondered why Layla hadn’t called him herself. He guessed he was about to find out.
When he arrived at her town house, he noted two marked squad cars parked outside. After pulling up alongside them, he hopped out and headed up the sidewalk.
The front window had been broken from the inside out. Glass crunched underfoot. A uniformed police officer stood in the open doorway. Tim. When he spotted Hunter, he motioned him inside.
“She’s in the other room talking to the Greg,” Tim said, keeping his voice pitched low. “He’s taking her report. She’s pretty upset.”
“Thanks for calling me,” Hunter said. He headed toward the kitchen, where his colleague Greg stood, making notes on his pad. When Layla saw Hunter, she jumped to her feet and took a step toward him before apparently rethinking that. “Hunter,” she said, relief in her expression and tone. “I’m so glad you came. I would have called you, but my phone got broken in all the craziness.”
He pretended not to notice the way her voice wobbled at the end of her sentence. “Is anything missing?”
“No. And that’s the weird part. This guy was going through my stuff, but he didn’t take anything. It was almost like he was searching for something specific.”
“Like jewelry, maybe?” Greg put in helpfully.
“Maybe.” But she sounded doubtful.
“Do you have anything else you want me to add to my report?” Greg asked.
Slowly, Layla shook her head. “I think I’ve told you everything.”
“Well, if you remember anything else, here’s my card.” Greg handed it to her. “You can give me a call, or just tell Hunter, okay?”
“Thank you.” Layla didn’t move. She and Hunter watched in silence as the other two policemen left.
Once they were gone, she sighed. “I’ve already called a glass repair company, but they can’t get out here for a couple of days.”
He matched his tone to hers. Friendly, a bit impersonal. “I don’t suppose you have any plywood?”
“No.”
“I’ll go get some. It won’t take long to nail it up to cover that window.” He turned to go.
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “I’d like to go with you.”
Staring down at her long fingers clutching the sleeve of his jacket, he reminded himself of his earlier resolve. “No need. You stay here and clean up. I won’t be gone that long.”
“Please, wait.” Instead of letting go, she moved closer. “To be honest, I’m afraid to stay here by myself. I’m not sure why I’m being targeted, but first someone tries to run me down, my car is stolen, and then my home is broken into? That doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”
It didn’t to him, either. “Did the intruder try to hurt you?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “I think somehow, whoever was behind it knew that I wasn’t staying at home. The guy seemed surprised. Since I was between him and the door, he shoved me hard. Into the window.” She swallowed. “I broke it.” Releasing him, she held up her hands, revealing a series of bloody cuts. “The EMTs wanted me to go to the hospital. But they cleaned out all the glass and none of these cuts
are very deep, so I refused.”
A horrified shudder ripped through him at the thought of what might have happened to her. “You need to go get checked out, just in case. I’ll drive you.”
“No.” Her smile didn’t touch the fear in her gaze. “I’m fine. Let’s go get that plywood so we can fix my window.”
Again, he wanted to pull her close and hold her, reassuring himself that she truly would be all right. Exerting every ounce of his willpower, he managed to keep his hands to himself, even though they were clenched in fists at his sides.
“Fine, let’s go.” He eyed his squad car, and then her rental. “I don’t suppose you know anyone with a pickup truck?”
Her eyes widened as she realized what he meant. “We have no way to get the plywood here.”
He nodded. “Let me make a call.” He got a hold of another of his coworkers, quickly outlined what he needed and secured Jesse’s promise to meet them. After passing that information along to Layla, they got in his car.
As they drove to the home improvement store in silence, he ran a thousand different scenarios through his mind. She could stay with her father, except she couldn’t. She’d already told him that she had no close friends. That left him, and his place, with all the temptations having her there would bring. But in the end, it all came down to one thing: keeping Layla safe.
“You’re staying with me,” he told her, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Until we either apprehend whoever is after you or figure out what exactly is going on.”
“Thank you.” The relief in her soft voice nearly undid him. He had no idea what it was about this woman, but she got to him in ways no other ever had.
At the home improvement store, he purchased a large sheet of plywood and wheeled it out front, where Jesse waited as promised with his pickup truck. Jesse followed them back to Layla’s town house and dropped it off, cheerfully refusing any offer of payment.
With Layla’s help, it didn’t take long for Hunter to have the window covered. Luckily, she kept a fully stocked toolbox, including a hammer and nails.
“Go ahead and gather your things,” he said. “Goose will be happy to have you back.”
She nodded and hurried off. He supposed he should be glad she hadn’t asked him how he felt. Because despite giving himself a stern talking-to, he couldn’t help but feel glad to have her back, too.
Once they arrived at his place, he helped her carry her bags inside. This time, she’d brought considerably more with her. Goose, of course, greeted Layla as if she’d been gone for weeks rather than hours.
Once they’d stowed her bags in the guest bedroom, Layla trailed after him toward the kitchen, Goose hot on her heels.
“I’m sorry to be such an imposition,” Layla said. “I can pay you rent, if you’d like. You name the amount, but make sure it’s enough to repay you for me putting you out.”
“Don’t insult me,” he replied, his mild tone revealing none of his tangled emotions. “You’re no bother. Truth be told, I actually enjoy your company.”
He turned in time to catch the look of surprise on her face. “Why does that shock you?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know.” Clearly flustered, she looked away. “I guess I just assumed things between us were more physical than anything else.”
He touched her shoulder, a quick squeeze, not trusting himself to let his hand linger. “I’m not going to lie, Layla. I want you. But I also like you. A lot.”
Her gaze darkened, and she parted her lips. He held up his hand, forestalling her before she could speak.
“And while I mean every word of that, I have to insist on one thing. The attraction between us is pretty damn powerful, but it’s completely off-limits as long as you’re still engaged to Hamlin Harrington.”
Not immediately responding, she appeared to consider his words. “Like friends?” she asked, her voice flat.
“Exactly.” And though the next words he spoke might be a lie, they had to be said. “I think we can be great friends, if we put our mind to it.” As long as he could somehow make himself stop wanting her. Which wasn’t going to be easy. Every time he looked at her, his entire body caught fire.
“You know what?” Tilting her head, she nodded. “Challenge accepted. Friends it is.”
She spun on her heel and left the kitchen without waiting for a response. A moment later, he heard her door close. Hard. Not exactly a slam, but pretty close.
Looking down at Goose, who appeared startled, he grinned. Layla’s reaction made him feel a bit better. At least it appeared he wouldn’t be the only one suffering.
Chapter 9
Once she got to the sanctuary of her temporary room, Layla sat on the edge of the bed and took several deep breaths. She didn’t know why she felt so upset. What Hunter had said made absolute sense. Despite the incredible sex they’d had, she could understand and even respect the way he felt. In fact, she would have had the same sentiments if the situation had been reversed. People who were engaged shouldn’t even want to do what she and Hunter had done. She actually should have had to wonder why she did.
Except she knew. So did Hunter. She didn’t love her fiancé. And Hamlin didn’t love her, either. Not for the first time, she pondered what else her father had offered the older man in order for him to want to marry her. Not once had Hamlin looked at her with affection, only desire. Any conversations they’d shared had been cursory and banal, like two strangers in line at the grocery store chatting about the weather.
They’d never held hands, never mind kissed. To be honest, when her father had come to her in desperation, begging for her help to save the company, she’d agreed without really considering what that might mean.
She might have gone into this with zero illusions, well aware Hamlin considered her a prize, a trophy—or so he’d told her many times. But while Layla knew she was pretty, she certainly wasn’t on the same level as the vapid models her father liked to sport on his arm. If Hamlin wanted a trophy wife, he’d do better with one of them. There certainly didn’t appear to be any shortage of gorgeous young things throwing themselves at her father.
So what then? He planned to infuse Colton Energy with a huge amount of cash. A shrewd businessman, Hamlin would have asked for partial ownership, which would be fair.
Then why the marriage? Simply because the older man wanted her? The thought made her shudder. As did the idea of actually having to sleep with Hamlin once they were married, which he’d surely expect.
Or would he? Judging from his lack of enthusiasm for anything physical, at least with her, she’d wondered if theirs would be a sexless marriage.
Once, she’d told herself she might have been able to live with that. Now, after the explosion of passion between her and Hunter, such a life seemed unimaginably bleak.
Hunter had asked her if she still planned to go through with the wedding. She truly didn’t know. Based on what she’d learned of how her father’s actions had nearly bankrupted the company, she felt much less inclined to offer herself up as a sacrificial lamb.
With the Groom Killer still at large and all weddings put on hold, she had plenty of time to decide. That was, if she could survive being around Hunter so much and not being able to touch him.
A few minutes later, slightly embarrassed by her reaction to Hunter’s declaration of the rules, she forced herself to emerge from her room. She marched on down the hallway to the living room, where Hunter sat on the recliner with Goose curled in his lap. He appeared engrossed in a late-night crime drama, though he looked up when she entered.
“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”
Noting that he appeared wary, as if he feared she might insist on rediscussing their talk, she grimaced. “Yes. How about you?”
“Fine.” He returned his attention to his show.
And there, she thought as she took a seat on
the couch, was a perfect example of how to maintain one’s distance. Aching, she wondered how long she’d be able to take it. At least she had her new volunteer job to occupy her time while she was on vacation from her real job.
Her real job. Her real life. Both suddenly seemed as false as the sham of her engagement.
Dangerous to even think like that. As soon as seemed reasonable, she got up and told Hunter good night.
Barely looking at her, he responded in kind. Her heart sank, even more than she would have believed possible, but she kept her chin up as she turned to go.
“Layla?”
Slowly she turned. He flashed that smile, the one that turned her insides to mush and had her entire body buzzing. “Yes?” she managed.
“It’s going to be all right. Everything will work out in the end, I promise.”
“I’m sure it will,” she responded, even though she wasn’t. “Right now, I’ve got to get to sleep so I can get up early for my volunteer shift at the K9 training center tomorrow.”
And she took herself off to her room, hoping sleep would come quickly.
* * *
The next morning, Layla woke before the alarm, surprised to find that she’d slept uninterrupted by doubts or worries. Jumping up out of bed, even her normal early-morning energy seemed multiplied, as if she’d already drunk several strong cups of coffee. This was a good thing. She hurried through her shower and got dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and a long-sleeved flannel shirt, plus her scuffed boots. Putting her long hair into a neat braid, she grinned at herself in the mirror, scarcely able to contain her eagerness.
In a few hours, she’d start her unpaid job at the K9 center, which felt like a dream come true. Surprisingly so. The last time she’d felt like this, she’d been a newly minted college graduate, eager to start work in her father’s business.
Even the fact that she’d slept alone in the guest bed, waking to be momentarily super-conscious of the gorgeous man still asleep in the other bedroom, did little to dim her anticipation.
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