Read Online Millionaire's Last Stand by Elle Kennedy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elle Kennedy
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direct result of the woman in the next bedroom.
The woman who needed a gun on hand in order to be in the same room as him.
As he’d lain in bed and stared up at the ceiling, he’d choked down the bitterness that coated his throat, and forced himself not to dwell on it. He didn’t blame Jamie for being cautious. Everyone else in town believed that he was a killer—so why wouldn’t the federal agent who’d come here to solve the case?
Still, it grated, knowing that the lighthearted conversation in the living room hadn’t been completely genuine. It wasn’t about a man and a woman getting to know each other. They were a cop and a murder suspect. Definitely not the foundation for a love connection.
Besides, he had no intention of getting involved with Jamie, no matter how much the kiss had affected him. In that moment, he’d been so grateful that she hadn’t been hurt in the storm that he’d given in to the reckless desire he felt for her. But her gun had been the kick in the ass he needed, a reminder of why he couldn’t be with her. With anyone.
During the night, he’d kept going back to the day he’d met Teresa, the thrill that had shot up his spine as the raven-haired beauty had approached his table, her lips curved in a teasing smile. How different his life would be if he’d simply stood up and walked out of that bar. Instead, he’d allowed himself to tumble headfirst into an uncharacteristic whirlwind affair, letting his lust for Teresa Matthews cloud all common sense. Why hadn’t he seen how wicked she was? Picked up on the toxic thread winding through her body?
Stupid fool that he was, he’d married the woman. And she’d poisoned him. Infected every inch of his life, to the point that he wasn’t sure he trusted his own judgment anymore.
Jamie Crawford wasn’t Teresa. He knew that. He saw it, from the perception exuded by her gorgeous violet eyes to the determination she displayed about this case. But he wasn’t going to jump headfirst into anything again. Or ever. Hell, just the notion of lowering the shield around his heart and letting another woman in made his palms grow damp.
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, he gave up on the illusion of sleep and climbed out from between the black silk sheets in his king-size bed. Outside, the storm had evidently moved on, leaving nothing but silence in its wake. And destruction, he noted in chagrin when he stared out the bedroom window at the front yard.
Tree branches littered the dew-covered grass and the shed at the edge of the driveway was all but gone. Wonderful. Three weeks ago, he’d spent four days building the damn thing and now his hard work was in tatters. He spotted the tin roof lying by Jamie’s car, inches from the thick tree trunk that had collided with the ground. The sun was a bright yellow ball in a clear blue sky, the heat of it warming Cole’s bare chest right through the windowpane. Looking at the cloudless sky, it was hard to imagine that a tropical storm had terrorized the town only hours ago.
After pulling a T-shirt over his head and slipping into a pair of gray sweatpants, he made his way downstairs, pleased to see that the power had come back on. The sheriff must have had the electric company up at the break of dawn.
Cole was just pouring himself a cup of coffee when he heard a canine yip and then Elmer bounded into the kitchen, his little paws slapping against the tiled floor. Jamie appeared a moment later, looking sleepy as she watched the small dog come to an excited halt in front of the food bowl they’d given him last night.
“Morning,” she murmured. “Mind if I give our tiny friend the rest of the salami?”
“Go for it. Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Cole busied himself with pouring the steaming hot liquid into a mug, but from the corner of his eye he couldn’t help but admire the tall, slender woman moving around his kitchen. She wore the black pants and dark blue collared shirt she’d donned
The woman who needed a gun on hand in order to be in the same room as him.
As he’d lain in bed and stared up at the ceiling, he’d choked down the bitterness that coated his throat, and forced himself not to dwell on it. He didn’t blame Jamie for being cautious. Everyone else in town believed that he was a killer—so why wouldn’t the federal agent who’d come here to solve the case?
Still, it grated, knowing that the lighthearted conversation in the living room hadn’t been completely genuine. It wasn’t about a man and a woman getting to know each other. They were a cop and a murder suspect. Definitely not the foundation for a love connection.
Besides, he had no intention of getting involved with Jamie, no matter how much the kiss had affected him. In that moment, he’d been so grateful that she hadn’t been hurt in the storm that he’d given in to the reckless desire he felt for her. But her gun had been the kick in the ass he needed, a reminder of why he couldn’t be with her. With anyone.
During the night, he’d kept going back to the day he’d met Teresa, the thrill that had shot up his spine as the raven-haired beauty had approached his table, her lips curved in a teasing smile. How different his life would be if he’d simply stood up and walked out of that bar. Instead, he’d allowed himself to tumble headfirst into an uncharacteristic whirlwind affair, letting his lust for Teresa Matthews cloud all common sense. Why hadn’t he seen how wicked she was? Picked up on the toxic thread winding through her body?
Stupid fool that he was, he’d married the woman. And she’d poisoned him. Infected every inch of his life, to the point that he wasn’t sure he trusted his own judgment anymore.
Jamie Crawford wasn’t Teresa. He knew that. He saw it, from the perception exuded by her gorgeous violet eyes to the determination she displayed about this case. But he wasn’t going to jump headfirst into anything again. Or ever. Hell, just the notion of lowering the shield around his heart and letting another woman in made his palms grow damp.
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, he gave up on the illusion of sleep and climbed out from between the black silk sheets in his king-size bed. Outside, the storm had evidently moved on, leaving nothing but silence in its wake. And destruction, he noted in chagrin when he stared out the bedroom window at the front yard.
Tree branches littered the dew-covered grass and the shed at the edge of the driveway was all but gone. Wonderful. Three weeks ago, he’d spent four days building the damn thing and now his hard work was in tatters. He spotted the tin roof lying by Jamie’s car, inches from the thick tree trunk that had collided with the ground. The sun was a bright yellow ball in a clear blue sky, the heat of it warming Cole’s bare chest right through the windowpane. Looking at the cloudless sky, it was hard to imagine that a tropical storm had terrorized the town only hours ago.
After pulling a T-shirt over his head and slipping into a pair of gray sweatpants, he made his way downstairs, pleased to see that the power had come back on. The sheriff must have had the electric company up at the break of dawn.
Cole was just pouring himself a cup of coffee when he heard a canine yip and then Elmer bounded into the kitchen, his little paws slapping against the tiled floor. Jamie appeared a moment later, looking sleepy as she watched the small dog come to an excited halt in front of the food bowl they’d given him last night.
“Morning,” she murmured. “Mind if I give our tiny friend the rest of the salami?”
“Go for it. Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Cole busied himself with pouring the steaming hot liquid into a mug, but from the corner of his eye he couldn’t help but admire the tall, slender woman moving around his kitchen. She wore the black pants and dark blue collared shirt she’d donned
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