covers. “Did you ever think of knocking politely?”
“My house. My bedroom.” He shrugged. “Besides, it’s getting close to noon. I was afraid you were dead in here.”
Noon? She
never
slept to noon. Not ever.
“I’ve got some clothes for you.” He glanced down at the bag in his right hand. Wait, that was—
“My bag.” She scrambled from the bed, pulling the covers with her. She kept them around her, toga style, and Jasmine ignored the ache in her side.
“I had one of my men collect your things from that little motel.”
Did she look stupid? “You mean you told the guy to rifle through my stuff.”
He lifted the bag toward her. “I thought you might like some non-bloodstained clothes to wear. And some shoes. Guess I was wrong.”
She hurried across the room and grabbed the small duffel bag.
But he reached out before she could retreat from him, and his fingers wrapped around her wrist. “You keep a gun in your nightstand drawer.”
And she was betting that gun wasn’t tucked securely in her bag. “A lady traveling alone has to protect herself.” Especially when she was dodging trouble.
“It’s time,” Drake told her.
Did he realize that his thumb was slowly rubbing against her inner wrist? Because she did, and that teasing contact was making her all kinds of nervous. “Time for what?”
“The truth. You put on your clothes, then you come to the den and you tell me everything I want to know.”
Not going to happen. “Or what?” He’d already said he wasn’t planning to call the cops on her. So as far as she was concerned, he had zero leverage.
The smirk was gone from his face. He looked…cold then. Hard. Dangerous.
Don’t fall for the bad boys, don’t!
“You don’t want me for an enemy, Jasmine.”
“I thought that you already were my enemy. Didn’t realize I had a choice in the matter.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Okay, now that scared her. Her chin started to lift.
“But one way or another, you
will
be answering my questions, and if you lie to me…that will be a mistake I punish you for.”
Then he freed her wrist. Only she felt like he was still touching her. Her skin was hot and sensitive.
“You’ve got five minutes to dress.”
“And you sure like giving orders.”
He flashed her a wide grin. Wow. The man had a really nice,
sexy
smile.
“Time’s ticking…”
He shut the door.
Her gaze darted around the room. There had to be a way out of there. A way to escape Drake…
Because that man wouldn’t like her secrets. She knew because Jasmine hated them, too.
***
Drake was waiting in the garage. He stood in the back, keeping his body hidden as Jasmine snuck inside. He almost smiled. Did she even realize how predictable she was? She’d ducked out the back of the house, circumventing his security—a nice touch—but he knew the woman would need a ride for her escape off his property.
His garage had, of course, been her most likely destination. So he hadn’t bothered waiting inside the house for her.
He’d just made himself comfortable out there.
Her shoulders were hunched as she made her way to the line of cars. Which one would she pick? The Corvette? The Lincoln?
His lips firmed. Oh, hell, no, the woman was
not
planning to take his Porsche.
She
was.
She slipped inside the car, then disappeared beneath the dash. He stalked toward her as anger pumped in his blood. “If you mess up those wires, I’ll—”
Her head shot up, and she screamed.
He took that opportunity to haul her out of his Porsche. That car was his favorite, his favorite in Vegas, anyway.
“I didn’t plan on us talking out here,” he murmured as he held her. “Princess, you missed the den by about fifty feet.”
She jerked against his hold. He didn’t let her go.
She still smelled like vanilla.
He still wanted a taste.
“I didn’t miss your dang den. It took me five minutes to get out of that house.” She sounded disgruntled
“My house. My bedroom.” He shrugged. “Besides, it’s getting close to noon. I was afraid you were dead in here.”
Noon? She
never
slept to noon. Not ever.
“I’ve got some clothes for you.” He glanced down at the bag in his right hand. Wait, that was—
“My bag.” She scrambled from the bed, pulling the covers with her. She kept them around her, toga style, and Jasmine ignored the ache in her side.
“I had one of my men collect your things from that little motel.”
Did she look stupid? “You mean you told the guy to rifle through my stuff.”
He lifted the bag toward her. “I thought you might like some non-bloodstained clothes to wear. And some shoes. Guess I was wrong.”
She hurried across the room and grabbed the small duffel bag.
But he reached out before she could retreat from him, and his fingers wrapped around her wrist. “You keep a gun in your nightstand drawer.”
And she was betting that gun wasn’t tucked securely in her bag. “A lady traveling alone has to protect herself.” Especially when she was dodging trouble.
“It’s time,” Drake told her.
Did he realize that his thumb was slowly rubbing against her inner wrist? Because she did, and that teasing contact was making her all kinds of nervous. “Time for what?”
“The truth. You put on your clothes, then you come to the den and you tell me everything I want to know.”
Not going to happen. “Or what?” He’d already said he wasn’t planning to call the cops on her. So as far as she was concerned, he had zero leverage.
The smirk was gone from his face. He looked…cold then. Hard. Dangerous.
Don’t fall for the bad boys, don’t!
“You don’t want me for an enemy, Jasmine.”
“I thought that you already were my enemy. Didn’t realize I had a choice in the matter.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Okay, now that scared her. Her chin started to lift.
“But one way or another, you
will
be answering my questions, and if you lie to me…that will be a mistake I punish you for.”
Then he freed her wrist. Only she felt like he was still touching her. Her skin was hot and sensitive.
“You’ve got five minutes to dress.”
“And you sure like giving orders.”
He flashed her a wide grin. Wow. The man had a really nice,
sexy
smile.
“Time’s ticking…”
He shut the door.
Her gaze darted around the room. There had to be a way out of there. A way to escape Drake…
Because that man wouldn’t like her secrets. She knew because Jasmine hated them, too.
***
Drake was waiting in the garage. He stood in the back, keeping his body hidden as Jasmine snuck inside. He almost smiled. Did she even realize how predictable she was? She’d ducked out the back of the house, circumventing his security—a nice touch—but he knew the woman would need a ride for her escape off his property.
His garage had, of course, been her most likely destination. So he hadn’t bothered waiting inside the house for her.
He’d just made himself comfortable out there.
Her shoulders were hunched as she made her way to the line of cars. Which one would she pick? The Corvette? The Lincoln?
His lips firmed. Oh, hell, no, the woman was
not
planning to take his Porsche.
She
was.
She slipped inside the car, then disappeared beneath the dash. He stalked toward her as anger pumped in his blood. “If you mess up those wires, I’ll—”
Her head shot up, and she screamed.
He took that opportunity to haul her out of his Porsche. That car was his favorite, his favorite in Vegas, anyway.
“I didn’t plan on us talking out here,” he murmured as he held her. “Princess, you missed the den by about fifty feet.”
She jerked against his hold. He didn’t let her go.
She still smelled like vanilla.
He still wanted a taste.
“I didn’t miss your dang den. It took me five minutes to get out of that house.” She sounded disgruntled
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