framing
her as glanced down at himself, chest heaving. He wasn’t wearing a
shirt; Kate had been trying to pull his godforsaken dress over his
head. Sometimes…there are no words.
He shoved away from the
nightstand—from the bed—without looking at the blonde, violet-eyed
creature whose breathing was still every bit as heavy as his own.
What the hell had he been about to do? He chastised himself as he
walked around the bed, and, when that wasn’t far enough, to the
dressing table at the opposite end of the bedroom. His hands shook
as he removed the gaudy, gold hoop earrings and tossed them onto
the surface of the rented vanity. Kate was an innocent stranger,
and besides that, the woman was a nurse. He bit back a groan and
forced his eyes away from her in the mirror. He watched her slide
off the nightstand, and eyed his own less-than-composed face, his
guilt and frustration reflected back at him in stark
clarity.
Kate was a nurse, and he
was…a screw-up. A bookie from east Brooklyn who’d thrown away more
chances in five years than most people got in a lifetime. Jaxson’s
lips thinned into a harsh line and his hands tightened on the
lacquered surface of the dressing table. He was still in full war
paint, and angrily he removed the false eyelashes, pretending not
to notice Kate hovering near the door.
He wished she would just
go already. Even before he turned state’s evidence, he’d had
nothing to offer a woman like her. A now that he was bait for a
killer, for a man whose very existence he woke up cursing each
morning? Well, now he had even less to offer. The possibility that
Jaxson would end up winning his freedom, but paying for his
association with Roger Klein, with his life…was very
real.
He glanced once more at
the woman behind him. A man like Klein wouldn’t care that Kate was
standing next to Jaxson, he’d snuff out her life just the same.
Hell, Kate was young and blonde; although her hair was a shade too
dark, she was eerily close to the type of victim that fucking
pervert seemed to prefer. Jaxson cursed the day he’d ever been
stupid enough to do business with a man like Roger Klein. He’d
known there was something not quite right about the man, but one
dollar was as good as the next, right? Wrong.
He raised his eyes to his
neighbor’s, in the mirror. Kate had to go; hanging around with him
could prove hazardous to her health. But she wasn’t leaving; it
looked like he’d have to turn around and speak to her. He thumped a
fist against the top of the vanity and turned around to face
her.
“ Go back to your room, okay?”
“ Hey, I wasn’t—”
“ Look, let’s not do this, eh? I’m just not
interested.”
“ So, are you…”
Jaxson frowned when she
paused and turned to leave, apparently unwilling to say anything
further. “Am I what?” he asked, halting her progress from the room,
against his better judgment.
She bit her lip, one hand
on the door. “Well, are you…a, um…a lesbian? I mean, it’s okay if
you are, I just…”
Jaxson froze. “Are you
serious?”
“ Oh, forget it. Just forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
“ No, I’m not a fucking lesbian. I like women,” he
growled.
Kate stared pointedly at
him, but remained silent.
He pinched the bridge of
his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I work at a club,” he
ground out, “I’m a…dancer. This,” he swept a hand down the front of
his body, “has nothing to do with my sexuality, okay?” He glared at
her.
“ Fine.” Her own lips thinned.
“ I’m just not—I can’t—you have to go.”
“ Yeah, I get it. I’m going.”
“ Next time, keep your so called help to yourself,” he called
out, staring hard at her retreating form, pissed off that even now
he wanted to haul her back into the bedroom.
* * *
“ That isn’t why I came in here!” she protested, turning and
stalking back into the room.
“ Yeah, well, you can go now.” He shrugged and turned away from
her.
“ Okay,
her as glanced down at himself, chest heaving. He wasn’t wearing a
shirt; Kate had been trying to pull his godforsaken dress over his
head. Sometimes…there are no words.
He shoved away from the
nightstand—from the bed—without looking at the blonde, violet-eyed
creature whose breathing was still every bit as heavy as his own.
What the hell had he been about to do? He chastised himself as he
walked around the bed, and, when that wasn’t far enough, to the
dressing table at the opposite end of the bedroom. His hands shook
as he removed the gaudy, gold hoop earrings and tossed them onto
the surface of the rented vanity. Kate was an innocent stranger,
and besides that, the woman was a nurse. He bit back a groan and
forced his eyes away from her in the mirror. He watched her slide
off the nightstand, and eyed his own less-than-composed face, his
guilt and frustration reflected back at him in stark
clarity.
Kate was a nurse, and he
was…a screw-up. A bookie from east Brooklyn who’d thrown away more
chances in five years than most people got in a lifetime. Jaxson’s
lips thinned into a harsh line and his hands tightened on the
lacquered surface of the dressing table. He was still in full war
paint, and angrily he removed the false eyelashes, pretending not
to notice Kate hovering near the door.
He wished she would just
go already. Even before he turned state’s evidence, he’d had
nothing to offer a woman like her. A now that he was bait for a
killer, for a man whose very existence he woke up cursing each
morning? Well, now he had even less to offer. The possibility that
Jaxson would end up winning his freedom, but paying for his
association with Roger Klein, with his life…was very
real.
He glanced once more at
the woman behind him. A man like Klein wouldn’t care that Kate was
standing next to Jaxson, he’d snuff out her life just the same.
Hell, Kate was young and blonde; although her hair was a shade too
dark, she was eerily close to the type of victim that fucking
pervert seemed to prefer. Jaxson cursed the day he’d ever been
stupid enough to do business with a man like Roger Klein. He’d
known there was something not quite right about the man, but one
dollar was as good as the next, right? Wrong.
He raised his eyes to his
neighbor’s, in the mirror. Kate had to go; hanging around with him
could prove hazardous to her health. But she wasn’t leaving; it
looked like he’d have to turn around and speak to her. He thumped a
fist against the top of the vanity and turned around to face
her.
“ Go back to your room, okay?”
“ Hey, I wasn’t—”
“ Look, let’s not do this, eh? I’m just not
interested.”
“ So, are you…”
Jaxson frowned when she
paused and turned to leave, apparently unwilling to say anything
further. “Am I what?” he asked, halting her progress from the room,
against his better judgment.
She bit her lip, one hand
on the door. “Well, are you…a, um…a lesbian? I mean, it’s okay if
you are, I just…”
Jaxson froze. “Are you
serious?”
“ Oh, forget it. Just forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
“ No, I’m not a fucking lesbian. I like women,” he
growled.
Kate stared pointedly at
him, but remained silent.
He pinched the bridge of
his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I work at a club,” he
ground out, “I’m a…dancer. This,” he swept a hand down the front of
his body, “has nothing to do with my sexuality, okay?” He glared at
her.
“ Fine.” Her own lips thinned.
“ I’m just not—I can’t—you have to go.”
“ Yeah, I get it. I’m going.”
“ Next time, keep your so called help to yourself,” he called
out, staring hard at her retreating form, pissed off that even now
he wanted to haul her back into the bedroom.
* * *
“ That isn’t why I came in here!” she protested, turning and
stalking back into the room.
“ Yeah, well, you can go now.” He shrugged and turned away from
her.
“ Okay,
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