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Authors: Nicola R. White
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my legs to move in one direction or the other, to do anything but stand there in the middle of the room like a deer in headlights. But by the time I finally took a step, my indecision had cost me. The footsteps stopped in front of number five, and the doorknob turned.
Why the hell hadn’t I thought to lock the door while I searched the room? I swore under my breath. Even if whoever was on the other side of the door wasn’t a threat, they were bound to have questions about the wrecked room. I’d thought the last thing I needed was for the injured man in the bathroom to let out a scream of pain, but I realized now I’d been wrong. The last thing I truly needed was some innocent bystander poking around, misunderstanding things and calling the cops on me.
The door opened and I whirled to snatch up the gun from the TV stand before whoever it was made it all the way into the room. I shoved it into the waistband of my jeans and pulled my T-shirt down over it, then leaped across the room to pull the bathroom door shut. I planted my feet and prepared to face the intruder. My breath accelerated and I felt my face flush, while my stomach clenched in anxious anticipation. I took a deep breath to steady myself and prepared to meet whoever it was head-on.
Chapter 6
A pair of heavy boots stepped into the room, and my gaze traveled up over a familiar leather jacket to meet Jackson Byrne’s eyes. The remembered scent of his leather jacket was almost as strong as the pepper spray spiciness that lingered in the air of the motel room, and I closed my eyes in frustration at the surge of inappropriate lust that hit me in the gut.
“What are you doing here?” I spit out when I opened them again. “And haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
I was annoyed at him for being there and with myself for forgetting to lock the door, but I was most especially annoyed at my body’s instinctive, uncontrollable reaction. What was it about the man that was so damn irresistible?
“I followed you.” Jackson stood in the doorway. “We need to talk.”
And there was that accent to answer my question—that sexy, aggravating Southern accent I remembered from the bar.
Acting on reflex, I rushed over to the door and grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket, peering outside at the parking lot. There was a man at the vending machine next to the main office, but he wasn’t looking in our direction , so I hauled Jackson inside and shut the door. I didn’t particularly want him there, but I couldn’t leave him standing on the threshold, attracting attention.
“What do you mean, you followed me?” I demanded as the fine hairs on my arms stood up in alarm.
Was he involved in whatever Miller and his friend were up to? It suddenly seemed like a pretty huge coincidence that he’d been the only other patron at Spyder’s the night before. And that he’d arrived just moments before the other two men.
Hell, he’d even stepped outside and seen me with Miller. Maybe that was how he got his rocks off.
And then there was the DeVille connection. Miller and his friend both worked at the new hospital site—and hadn’t Jackson said something last night about hiring on there?
“We need to talk,” he repeated, then screwed up his face and coughed. “Is that pepper spray?”
“You made it pretty clear back at Nora’s that you don’t want to talk to me,” I pointed out, avoiding his question as I edged away from him. How was I going to get rid of him?
“We need to talk about the fact that Nora lied to the cops for you. And had me lie to them, too.” He looked at me like I was a piece of gum he hadn’t been able to scrape off the sole of his boot. “Whatever you’re up to, it’s trouble. And I’m not about to let Nora get involved in it.”
“You’re not about to let her? How enlightened of you.” God, how could Nora put up with this caveman?
Unbidden, the thought conjured up an image of Jackson, naked and reclining next to a campfire,
Why the hell hadn’t I thought to lock the door while I searched the room? I swore under my breath. Even if whoever was on the other side of the door wasn’t a threat, they were bound to have questions about the wrecked room. I’d thought the last thing I needed was for the injured man in the bathroom to let out a scream of pain, but I realized now I’d been wrong. The last thing I truly needed was some innocent bystander poking around, misunderstanding things and calling the cops on me.
The door opened and I whirled to snatch up the gun from the TV stand before whoever it was made it all the way into the room. I shoved it into the waistband of my jeans and pulled my T-shirt down over it, then leaped across the room to pull the bathroom door shut. I planted my feet and prepared to face the intruder. My breath accelerated and I felt my face flush, while my stomach clenched in anxious anticipation. I took a deep breath to steady myself and prepared to meet whoever it was head-on.
Chapter 6
A pair of heavy boots stepped into the room, and my gaze traveled up over a familiar leather jacket to meet Jackson Byrne’s eyes. The remembered scent of his leather jacket was almost as strong as the pepper spray spiciness that lingered in the air of the motel room, and I closed my eyes in frustration at the surge of inappropriate lust that hit me in the gut.
“What are you doing here?” I spit out when I opened them again. “And haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
I was annoyed at him for being there and with myself for forgetting to lock the door, but I was most especially annoyed at my body’s instinctive, uncontrollable reaction. What was it about the man that was so damn irresistible?
“I followed you.” Jackson stood in the doorway. “We need to talk.”
And there was that accent to answer my question—that sexy, aggravating Southern accent I remembered from the bar.
Acting on reflex, I rushed over to the door and grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket, peering outside at the parking lot. There was a man at the vending machine next to the main office, but he wasn’t looking in our direction , so I hauled Jackson inside and shut the door. I didn’t particularly want him there, but I couldn’t leave him standing on the threshold, attracting attention.
“What do you mean, you followed me?” I demanded as the fine hairs on my arms stood up in alarm.
Was he involved in whatever Miller and his friend were up to? It suddenly seemed like a pretty huge coincidence that he’d been the only other patron at Spyder’s the night before. And that he’d arrived just moments before the other two men.
Hell, he’d even stepped outside and seen me with Miller. Maybe that was how he got his rocks off.
And then there was the DeVille connection. Miller and his friend both worked at the new hospital site—and hadn’t Jackson said something last night about hiring on there?
“We need to talk,” he repeated, then screwed up his face and coughed. “Is that pepper spray?”
“You made it pretty clear back at Nora’s that you don’t want to talk to me,” I pointed out, avoiding his question as I edged away from him. How was I going to get rid of him?
“We need to talk about the fact that Nora lied to the cops for you. And had me lie to them, too.” He looked at me like I was a piece of gum he hadn’t been able to scrape off the sole of his boot. “Whatever you’re up to, it’s trouble. And I’m not about to let Nora get involved in it.”
“You’re not about to let her? How enlightened of you.” God, how could Nora put up with this caveman?
Unbidden, the thought conjured up an image of Jackson, naked and reclining next to a campfire,
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