Читать книгу Special Agent's Surrender - Carla Cassidy - Страница 6

Dawn was just beginning to break when Jacob awakened. Instantly his head filled with a vision of Layla. When he’d burst into her room the night before in response to her screaming, he’d been ready to protect her with his life.

As he’d seen her in the bed, the sheet at her waist and the top of the sleek animal print nightgown barely covering her full breasts, a fist of desire had slammed into his gut. When she’d awakened and pulled him into an embrace, that fist had punched him over and over again as he’d held her in his arms.

He now got up from the recliner and threw a log and some kindling on the hot coals from the night before. Once the fire was blazing nicely, he decided a shower and a change in his thoughts were in order. Stepping into the bathroom he caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink.

You look like hell.

Layla was right. He did look like hell. He scraped a hand across his whiskered chin and then turned away from the mirror in disgust.

Half an hour later he left the bathroom clean-shaven and dressed in a freshly laundered navy turtleneck shirt and jeans. He made coffee, then carried a cup to the living room window and stared outside, his thoughts still on the woman who slept in the next room.

She was so full of life and seemed determined to bring him out of his isolation by talking him to death. She probably had dozens of men lined up waiting to spend time with her.

And somebody had tried to kill her.

He turned away from the window and wished he’d been paying more attention to what was going on in town. He knew his sister and somebody else had gone missing, but whenever his brothers had talked about it, he’d tuned it out, preferring his own drama to theirs. Now he wished he’d listened more carefully to them.

He glanced at the closed bedroom door and wondered how late she would sleep. Not that he cared. As long as she was sleeping she wasn’t talking.

She reminded him of Sarah and that was a time in his life he didn’t want to remember, a time when he’d had hopes and dreams and everything had seemed possible. When Sarah had walked away from him she’d stolen his dreams. The final case in his career had shattered his hope.

It was just before nine when Layla finally emerged. Clad in her nightgown and a short matching robe and her hair sleep-tousled around her head, she gave him a heavy-lidded glance and a quick smile. “Coffee, then shower,” she said as she disappeared into the kitchen.

His stomach muscles knotted with a tension he recognized. It surprised him that the first real emotion he’d felt for so long was lust. Her long slender legs had looked sleek and sexy beneath the short robe and he hadn’t forgotten how her full breasts had looked spilling over the top of her nightgown the night before.

He’d assumed she’d grab a cup of coffee and then join him in the living room, but as several minutes went by he realized she wasn’t coming out of the kitchen.

Leave her be, he told himself. After all, that’s what he wanted from her. He should be enjoying the fact that she was awake and not talking to him.

Before he realized what he was doing he was on his feet and headed into the kitchen. She sat at the table, her dainty fingers wrapped around a stone coffee mug and her eyelids still lazy with sleep.

“You’re obviously not a morning person,” he observed as he refilled his own coffee cup. He sat across from her at the table, wondering what in the hell he was doing.

Her face wore a slightly pouty expression that he found oddly charming. “Mornings should be banned,” she said, then lifted the coffee mug to her lips. She took a sip and eyed him over the rim of the cup. “Nice to see you have a chin beneath all that hair.”

He rubbed a hand across his smooth jaw. “It was starting to bug me,” he replied. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he’d shaved for her.

“You have a nice chin. You shouldn’t hide it under all those whiskers.” She took another sip of her coffee and then lowered the mug to the table. “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as I always do.” There was no way he’d share with her the kind of nightmare images that haunted his dreams. “What about you? Any more bad dreams?”

“No. Thankfully I slept like a baby once I finally went back to sleep. Is there a phone in the house? I left my cell phone at my office last night and I need to call Tom to see if he took care of the favorite man in my life,” she said.

“The man in your life?” He shouldn’t be surprised that she had a boyfriend. What did surprise him was the unexpected sharp edge of disappointment that stabbed him. What was that all about? He sure as hell didn’t want anything from her.

“Yeah, he’s sixteen pounds of calico fur and his name is Mr. Whiskers.”

“Any men of the human variety in your life?” he asked.

“Passing ships, not that I care.” She lifted her chin slightly as if in defense of whatever he might say. “What about you? Is there some woman pining for you back in Kansas City?”

“Nope, I was too devoted to my work to have any real relationships.” It was the easiest way to reply and it was somewhat the truth. After Sarah he hadn’t wanted anything that might somehow involve his heart. “I’m not a relationship kind of man.”

He could tell Layla wanted to ask him questions about what had happened in his work, about what had brought him back here, questions that he didn’t want to answer. He stood and motioned to the old harvest gold phone hanging on the wall. “Feel free to make whatever calls you need. Just remember you aren’t supposed to tell anyone you’re here.”

He got up and left her alone in the kitchen. He told himself it was so she could make her call in private, but the truth was something about Layla West had him off balance.

From the moment she’d breezed into the place the night before she’d brought a spark of life that had been missing. He felt the spark deep in his soul and he wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not.

For the last six months he’d been immersed in his self-imposed isolation, bitter with memories and drowning in guilt and remorse. He didn’t want to be rescued from himself by anyone.

He’d just gotten settled back into the recliner when she came out of the kitchen. “Mr. Whiskers is now in the care of Larry Norwood, so all is right in my world, and I’m going to take a shower.”

The minute she disappeared into the bathroom Jacob was visited by images of her naked body standing beneath a steamy spray of water. He closed his eyes as he imagined the slide of the soap down the hollow of her throat, across her delicate collarbone and then on to her full breasts.

He could easily imagine himself stepping into that spray of water next to her and taking her into his arms. A vision of their hot soapy bodies sliding together tensed all the muscles in his stomach.

He jerked out of the fantasy as his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and saw from the caller ID that it was his brother, Tom.

“I just talked to Layla and she didn’t sound too worse for the wear so I figured I’d better check in with you and see how it’s going.”

“It’s going,” Jacob replied, irritated by where he’d allowed his fantasy to take him. “You have any clues as to who attacked her?” Hopefully the crime would be solved and Layla could get out of here.

“Nothing. I was hoping to get some DNA off the shoe she used to whack him with, but we’ll have to wait to see what comes back from the lab. Same thing with the hypodermic needle the perp dropped.”

Jacob felt as if he’d entered an alternate universe. Layla hadn’t mentioned anything to him about hitting her attacker with a shoe or a needle being involved. “Whoa, take it from the top. Layla didn’t tell me much about the attack on her.”

There was a moment of silence. “Are we talking about the same Layla West? Usually Layla tells anyone who will listen whatever crosses her mind. I imagine you shut her down before she could say much of anything about it to you.”

Tom was right. Jacob had made it clear to Layla the night before that he didn’t want to talk, that all he wanted was for her to shut up and go to bed. A sliver of shame worked through him.

As he listened to Tom relating the details of the attack, a grudging admiration for his roommate filled him.

She’d fought back. It sounded like she hadn’t panicked, but rather had fought back using whatever resources she had at her disposal, in this case her shoe.

Even though she’d acted unconcerned about the attack, it was obvious from her nightmare that she’d been affected more than he’d initially thought.

“When you get a chance, I’d like to sit down with you and hear about these cases you’re working on,” Jacob said. He could tell he surprised Tom by the moment of stunned silence that followed.

“I’d like that,” Tom finally replied. “Maybe a pair of fresh eyes will see something that we’ve all missed. You want to come here or meet me someplace else?”

Jacob still wasn’t ready for his presence in town to be known. “Why don’t we meet this evening after dinner at the big house? I’m sure Benjamin and Edie won’t mind.”

“I’ll check with Benjamin and set it up. I’ll bring Peyton and Lilly along. The women can chat while we talk.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jacob agreed. “Then unless I hear something different from you, I’ll see you this evening about seven.”

The men hung up and by the time Jacob had poured himself another cup of coffee and settled back in his recliner, Layla was out of the bathroom. She was clad in a pair of jeans and a royal blue sweater that did amazing things to her eyes.

“Now I feel more human,” she said as she sat on the sofa.

As he told her about the meeting with Tom that evening her lips curved in a happy smile. “I adore Peyton and little Lilly and I’ve been looking forward to getting to know Edie better. This will be a perfect opportunity.”

Peyton and her daughter had been relative newcomers to Black Rock when Peyton’s daughter, Lilly, had been kidnapped. As Sheriff, Tom had been on the case and when Lilly was found alive and well, the two had realized they’d fallen in love.

All of Jacob’s brothers had found the loves of their lives, although none of them had married yet. They all were waiting for Brittany to return, a study in futility as far as Jacob was concerned.

“How about some pancakes?” Layla asked as she got up from the sofa.

“I’m really not hungry,” he replied.

“Nonsense. Didn’t anyone ever tell you breakfast is the most important meal of the day?” She flashed him a bright smile and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Jacob released a small sigh. There was no question that he had a strong physical attraction to Layla, but the last thing he wanted to do was follow up on it.

He didn’t want to get involved with any woman; he still remembered too clearly the pain of Sarah’s rejection. And if that wasn’t enough he had a head full of dead women silently accusing him for botching their case, for being the impetus that had resulted in their murders.

He was a man meant to be alone and that’s the way he liked it.

It was what he wanted.

It was what he deserved.

Layla was grateful when it came time for them to leave for Benjamin’s place. Jacob had been a bear all day, barely speaking to her and playing his television loud enough that the cows in the distant pasture had probably heard the noise.

There was a tension in the cabin that palpitated with its own energy. She wasn’t used to being cooped up and after a single long day she was ready to scream. If Jacob had been living this way for the past six months it was no wonder he was half-mad.

She now gave herself a final check in the bathroom mirror and wondered if Caleb and Portia would also be at Benjamin’s house. Portia Perez was dating Caleb Grayson and she was also Layla’s best friend. Layla hadn’t talked to Portia since she’d been attacked, although she was certain that Caleb had probably told her what had happened.

She and Portia talked to each other almost every day and at the moment Layla would love to see her friend and tell her about the horror of what had happened. She’d also like to whisper to Portia that despite his grumpy attitude, in spite of his brooding and downright rudeness, she was intensely drawn to Jacob Grayson.

“If that’s not a heartbreak waiting to happen, then I don’t know what is,” she muttered to her reflection in the mirror. Not that she was a stranger to heartbreak, most of her relationships ended in that state.

She’d realized long ago that she was a woman who seemed to inspire great lust in men, but nothing deeper, nothing more lasting. She’d given up on finding true, long-lasting love a long time ago.

You aren’t good for anything, girl. No man is ever gonna want you. Her father’s voice thundered in her ears and she shook her head to cast it out.

From the time her mother had died when she was a child to the time of her father’s death four years ago, she’d felt inadequate, lacking in any qualities that would make her worthwhile to anyone.

Her father had been a brutal man, both physically and mentally abusive. “But you survived,” she whispered to the woman in the mirror. “And you thwarted an attack by a madman.”

“You going to be in there all night or are you ready to go?” Jacob’s voice called from the other side of the bathroom door.

“I’m ready,” she replied and left the bathroom. He stood by the front door, car keys in hand and a familiar scowl riding his features. She grabbed her coat and pulled it on, then gave him a bright smile. “What are we waiting for?”

He opened the door and they walked out into the cold night air. “Wait here,” he said and then he walked off into the darkness of the night.

She stood on the porch, wondering where he had gone, but moments later a black pickup pulled up in front of the cabin with Jacob at the wheel.

“Where did this come from?” she asked as she slid into the passenger seat.

“There’s a shed not far from here. I figured there was no way you could walk the distance to the house in those shoes.”

She glanced down at her blue pumps and then looked at him. “You’d be surprised what I can accomplish in a pair of sexy high heels.”

He grunted and pulled away from the cabin. It took only minutes to travel the lane that led to the big ranch house that had been the Grayson family home where Benjamin and Edie now lived.

All the lights were on, creating a welcoming glow as Jacob pulled up beside Tom’s car. Edie greeted them at the door and ushered them inside as Benjamin’s dog, Tiny, danced at their feet.

The house smelled of evergreen and cinnamon, and Christmas decorations adorned every available surface. Layla shoved aside a wistful twinge as she thought of the little tree she’d intended to unpack and put out the night she’d gotten attacked.