Falling for Her (4 page)

But God, she wanted to get away. She winced when she moved her legs, the pain in her groin worse than ever. Something was changing in him. He’d always liked hurting her, but if the new games he played went on much longer, she would end up damaged beyond repair. He was too mean and too powerful to fight; against him she had no chance.

You have to run.
Yes, the voice was right. It was the only way unless she wanted to end up dead. She shifted, trying to get comfortable on the carpeted floor. Pain shot up into her stomach and down both legs. A moan escaped, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

The bedside light snapped on, and she froze.

“What the hell are you doing on the floor, girl?”

There was no explanation that would satisfy him, so she stayed mute as he rose from the bed. From her position looking up at him, he seemed ten feet tall. A monster, a thing of nightmares, walked toward her. The eyes he had locked on her promised a punishment, one he would thoroughly enjoy.

“You have to run!” Sugar yelled at the girl cowering in a dark corner. In her desperation to get away from the monster, Sugar ended up on the floor next to her bed.

Gulping in huge breaths of air, she frantically searched the room. As she’d not been able to sleep in the dark since escaping, every outlet had a night-light plugged into it. She was in the bedroom of her condo, not in Rodney’s house. He wasn’t in her room.

Her cat perched on the edge of the bed and peered down at her. “Oh God, Junior, I was so scared.” She hadn’t had a nightmare in months, so why now? Perhaps sharing some of her secrets with Maria had brought it on.

“He’s not here,” she whispered, and reached up to pet Junior, needing to touch his warm, soft body. He purred his pleasure.

Normally, she didn’t take a nap between her two jobs, but the long hours had caught up with her, and she’d thought to catch a few hours of sleep before having to leave for the Booby Palace. It was the last time she would do that no matter how tired she was.

“Time to get ready to go to work, sweetie,” she said, giving her cat one last rub.

Bored, Jamie fell asleep halfway through the movie. Dorian Gray’s eyes turned a violet-blue color, his face morphing into Sugar Darling’s. She was running away from the cab of a beer truck as Jamie yelled at her to stop. Angry that she ignored him, he took off after her. Did the confounded woman think she could just leave the truck in the middle of the hotel lobby for the Somalian rebels to find? Did she not realize they would guzzle all the beer, and then the idiots would be so drunk he’d never get the information he needed?

He tried to catch her but she crossed a shimmering red line, dropping out of sight in a wasteland. When he reached the place she had disappeared, the only thing she’d left behind was her ugly orange car. He stared at the clown car, rage building that she’d escaped his grasp. “Dang it, Sugar!” He would find her and when he did . . .

“Jamie! What’s wrong with you?”

Someone was shaking him. Her voice didn’t have a southern accent, and he didn’t want to listen. He needed to find Sugar.

“Jamie. Stop yelling. You’re embarrassing me.”

He jerked up, disoriented. A quick glance around brought him to his senses. Murky mermaids; he was in a theater, not in the middle of a wasteland in some Godforsaken, barren country.

“You were calling her name,” Jill whispered.

“Whose?” he asked, although he knew. It occurred to him that if it had been Sugar sitting next to him when he called out another woman’s name in his sleep, she’d probably bash him on the head and not be whispering.

Bash me on the head, Jill. Show you care that much.

“I would like to go home,” she said, still whispering.

It appeared his plan to carry their relationship to the next level was off. That should probably disappoint him. It didn’t. “I’m sorry,” he said, and from her expression, he knew she understood he was apologizing for more than talking in his sleep.

When he walked her up to her door, he said it again. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” she answered before disappearing into her house, the door lock clicking behind her.

Jamie stood on Jill’s steps and examined how he felt knowing he’d never see her again. Nothing. It appeared Jill wasn’t
the one
. He’d known she wasn’t for a while; he just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Not at all happy, he returned to his car. Halfway home—a place he really didn’t want to go at the moment—he called Jake Buchanan.

“Up for company?” he asked when his friend answered the phone.

“Well,” Jake drawled, “I was about to ravish my wife, but I suppose that can wait. See you soon.”

A dial tone sounded and Jamie clicked off. The boss, Logan Kincaid—once his SEAL commander—and Jake Buchanan, a former SEAL teammate, were now married and by all accounts deliriously happy. Jamie tried not to envy them, but ever since he’d lost his parents, he’d wanted a wife to love, and a family. Kids, white picket fence, the works. He’d bought his house with a future family in mind. It was a longing he’d never shared with anyone, not even Buchanan, his closest friend.

Two hours later, at the end of a friendly game of poker with Jake and Maria, he threw up his hands. “There’s no way you can have a full house, Maria.”

“She cheats,” Jake said, cheerfully.

“I do not.” She glared at each of them as if insulted.

Since both he and her husband knew she absolutely did, they rolled their eyes. What impressed Jamie though: he’d never been able to catch her at it. According to Jake, he hadn’t figured out how she did it either.

“I have a favor to ask,” Maria said as he stood to go.

“Sure, what?”

“It’s about time for Sugar to get off work. I’d like you to see she arrives home safely.”

Not happening. “No. I’m tired, and it’s past my bedtime.” He jiggled the keys in his pocket for emphasis.

“Please, Jamie. There’s a guy she works with that’s hassling her, and I’m worried.”

“All right, but you owe me one.” It was likely Sugar’s active imagination, but the idea of a man sniffing after her set his teeth on edge.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
he building really was silly. Sugar held up her phone and took a picture of the two domed structures placed side by side. There were even nipples poking up on the tops of both. Why she wanted a photo of the Booby Palace, she wasn’t sure. No, she did know. In her later years, when she wondered if she really had worked at a place designed to look like a pair of titties, she would have the proof.

She needed to remember to take another shot in the daylight, but she wanted a picture of the place when all the shining spotlights lit it up in all its infamous glory. The owner, Robert, had told her when he’d first finished construction and the sign went up, churches had organized pickets, protesting it as obscene. That he’d even obtained approvals from the city to build the Booby Palace was amazing in itself.

Although he hadn’t seemed surprised, Robert hadn’t been happy when she’d given her notice earlier. He’d offered her more money and when that didn’t work, he’d thrown in free insurance and a three-week vacation.

“I don’t even take the one week I have now,” she’d reminded him. She liked Robert and she liked the work, but the clientele she had no use for, nor the bitchy girls. Then there was Kyle. If she told Robert the bartender was hassling her, he would put a stop to it. Still, she’d never felt comfortable working at the place. No, she would be a lot safer at K2, especially now that Maria knew her real name and why she was hiding.

That had been a surprise; not only that she’d spilled some of her secrets, but Maria’s reaction. Her friend had assured Sugar she’d be safe at K2. It had been a risk, but she was glad she had trusted Maria. She felt a lot better about not accepting the job under false pretenses.

“Hey, darling. You hanging around, waiting for me?”

As if. She dropped her phone in her purse and clicked her car door unlocked, opening it. “Nope. Just leaving.”

Kyle pushed her door closed. “What’s your hurry, babe? Come on, I’ll buy you a drink. We can go to Annie’s, have a few beers, dance a little.” He edged closer, crowding her. “Maybe get to know each other better after that.”

“No thanks.” She tried to turn away, but he pressed himself against her. “I said no, Kyle.” Panic welled inside her, and she fought down the bile rising in her throat.

“I heard you, darling, but your eyes say yes.”

She pushed against his chest. “Get off me!” Suddenly, he jerked backwards like a puppet on a string.

“The lady said no.”

Jamie? At hearing his voice, the panic receded, and an inappropriate giggle escaped. Feeling giddy with relief, she peered around Kyle and waved her fingers. “Hi, Jamie.” How had he snuck up on them like that? “You gonna put him on the ground like you did that guy at the airport?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Kyle said.

“You want me to?” Jamie asked, ignoring the man he held by the back of the neck.

It would be satisfying to see Kyle dropped on his face, but she still had to work at the place for two more weeks, and Jamie wouldn’t be around to keep an eye on the creep. She had a feeling the bartender wouldn’t appreciate eating dirt and would blame her.

“No, I just want to go home.”

“That’s too bad. I was looking forward to it. Lucky for you, Kyle, the lady wants to go home. Apologize to her, then disappear.”

When no apology came, Jamie tsked. “You have one more chance.”

When Kyle’s eyes bulged, she squinted at his neck, trying to see what Jamie was doing to the man with just his fingers. However he was doing it, it was a neat trick.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Now say, ‘I’ll never bother you again Ms. Darling.
’
”

“I won’t bother you again.”

It was kind of like watching a ventriloquist at work, and Sugar swallowed a giggle, certain Jamie wouldn’t see the humor. Her reaction didn’t match what had almost happened, but for some reason she felt like she’d just inhaled some kind of laughing gas.

“
‘Ms. Darling.’ You forgot that part. And say it like you mean it.”

A girlie squeal sounded from Kyle. “That hurts, man.”

“I’m waiting,” Jamie said, following it with an impatient sigh.

“I won’t bother you again, Ms. Darling.”

Jamie glanced at her. “Do you think he means it?”

She studied Kyle’s face and almost felt sorry at the pain she saw in his eyes. But he’d refused to believe she meant no, so he had this little lesson coming. “I think he does, but if he bothers me again, I’ll be sure to let ya know.”

“I won’t,” Kyle croaked, sounding almost like a frog.

“What’s his last name?”

“Baxter.”
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh
. But he really had sounded like a frog, and she was feeling a little like she was drunk. Jamie had appeared like some kind of superhero, and that made her happy. Could happiness give one a high?

She put her finger in her mouth and bit down on it enough to hurt. This was even better than the airport dude. She’d missed most of that when Jamie had ordered her to leave.

“Here’s the deal, Kyle Baxter. Ms. Darling so much as hints you’re bothering her, you and I’ll have another little chat. Understand?”

Kyle bobbed his head. Jamie let go of him, and Kyle about tripped over his feet in his haste to leave.

Jamie, hands on his hips, watched until Kyle’s car disappeared from sight, then turned to her. He frowned. “Why are you eating your finger?”

She lost it then.

Of course, the woman would think it was funny. What had he expected, that she would understand men like Kyle Baxter took what they wanted? If he’d not come along when he had . . . Jamie shook off the thought, not even wanting to contemplate what might have happened.

“Is this to be our relationship then, Ms. Darling? You drawing men to you like bees to honey, and me riding in on my white horse and rescuing you?”

With her lips pressed tightly together, she gave a furious shake of her head. When he’d walked up behind them and heard her tell the man no, an unexpected pleasure that she wasn’t a willing participant had invaded his heart. He was a warrior. Invasions were meant to be fought, and fight this one, he would.

“You were seconds away from being assaulted, and I fail to see the humor in it. Would you like to share why you found this situation funny?” Her eyes were a sexy dark blue, but it could be the artificial lighting from the spotlights shining around them, or so he told himself.

“Frogs . . . ventriloquist . . . you know,” she gasped, her neck-length hair swirling around her like silk threads. She waved her fingers at him, then turned and covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook and little snorts emitted from her.

“No, I don’t know.” What did frogs have to do with anything? Nothing she just said made sense, but his lips twitched anyway. Being a serious type of man, he didn’t see the humor in much of life, although he used to. Why was it that out of all the people he knew, this woman had him wanting to laugh?

Except when he wanted to strangle her. “When you’re done, let me know.” He moved to the front of her car and leaned against the grill, slid his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages, then his e-mail. Suppressing the part of him that longed to be included in the joke, he listened to her laughter until it trailed off.

“I’m sorry. My reaction was inappropriate, I know. I’m just happy, is all. You can’t know what that means to me.”

She stood before him, her hands clasped in front of her, reminding him of a disobedient child waiting to hear her punishment. There had been something implied by her last sentence, and the question was on the tip of his tongue to ask why she would say such a thing. He held back the words, though, because it was a stupid thought. The woman was always happy.

“No need to be sorry.” He pushed away from the hood. “Get in your car and wait for me to come up behind you. I’ll follow you home.”

“You don’t have to. I’m sure you have better things to do than playing nursemaid.”

If the night had gone as planned, he certainly would have. Strangely, he wasn’t all that disappointed he wasn’t with Jill. “Go on, Sugar, get in your car.”

He expected her to argue, but she only shrugged and turned away. Someday he might figure her out. Not that he particularly wanted to.

At the door to her car, she stopped. “Ya know, that’s the nicest you’ve sounded when talking to me. Your tone of voice I mean.” She slid behind the wheel and stared straight ahead.

Piddling puddles. Did he always come across as being mean to her? Maybe he’d try to be nicer, not that he’d be around her much longer. A little less than two weeks and Barbie would be back at the lobby desk, then Ms. Darling would return to her little hole in the Booby Palace. As he walked to his car, he eyed the breast-shaped building. Why in the world did she work there? It wasn’t a safe place for a young woman. Any woman for that matter.

He pulled his car behind hers and blinked his lights. Her little orange car surged forward in spurts until it turned out of the parking lot. Jamie shook his head and chuckled. Someone needed to teach the woman how to drive. It wasn’t until they were on the road and away from the illumination of the parking lot that he realized she hadn’t turned on her car lights.

“Sugar, Sugar, Sugar,” he muttered. “How in God’s name do you manage to stay alive?” She didn’t just need driving lessons, she needed a keeper—or at the very least, a chauffeur. A bodyguard wouldn’t be amiss either. He clicked his brights and instead of turning on her lights, she pulled to the side of the road.

“Is something wrong?” she asked when he walked up to her door.

“Yes, your lights.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together. “What about them?”

He sighed, something he should probably get used to doing when around her. “You don’t have any.”

“They’re broke?”

“I really worry about you, Sugar.” He leaned in, reached past her, and turned on her lights.

A mistake, he instantly realized when his arm brushed against her breasts, all soft and warm. Unable to help it, he breathed in, inhaling her scent. She smelled like a combination of coconuts and vanilla, making his mouth water. Jerking his head out of the car, he backed up a step, far enough away that he couldn’t smell her.

“You worry about me?”

“I meant . . .” The pleasure shimmering in her eyes stopped him, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the remark had been meant to imply he wasn’t sure she had any brains in that beautiful head of hers. “Yeah, I guess I do.” And he kind of did.

A brilliant smile lit her face. “Thank you.”

Jamie considered bashing his head on the roof of his car when he reached it. The soft way she’d said it—as if she couldn’t believe someone cared enough to worry—had him wanting to make promises he had no intention of keeping. He did not want her turning her beautiful smiles his way, nor did he want to be the one worrying about her. No way. Nohow.

Sugar Darling might have once been the type of woman he was drawn to, but no longer. He was not the same man. He’d put too much effort into locking down the wildness that had robbed him of his parents. No drugs, alcohol, cursing, or wickedly sexy women—his self-imposed punishment for his sins.

As he followed her home, he vowed that as soon as her time at K2 was over, he’d avoid her at all costs. Not being a stupid man, he could admit she was dangerous not only to herself, but to him. He brought his forearm up to his nose and sniffed, then popped a sour lemon candy into his mouth to combat the lingering scent of coconuts.

He would call Jill and apologize again, explain he’d been under a lot of pressure on his business trip and hadn’t been himself the last few days. Jill was exactly the kind of woman he wanted in his life, one who didn’t call to the beast in him that had stolen the lives of those he loved.

If she bored him at times, all the better. It kept him settled on the course he’d set for his life. He frowned, wondering exactly how that made any sense.

Sugar pulled into her condo parking space, and he stopped behind her little car, leaving his ignition on.
Just wave and go inside, Sugar. Don’t come back here.
Apparently, she couldn’t read minds.

“Thanks, Jamie.” She leaned past the window and kissed his cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

Blasted bleeping bunnies.

Just great. Now his “Saint curses” had expanded into three words. He stayed until she disappeared inside, trying not to think about how her lips had felt on his skin. A coconutty aroma wafted up and he groaned. Why did she always have to smell so damn good?

Just great. That was twice a cuss word had popped into his head when thinking of her. He touched the spot where she’d pressed her lips, where the skin still tingled from the kiss. If she could do that to his cheek, what would it feel like to have his mouth on hers?

He grew hard just thinking about kissing her. “Get a grip, Saint,” he growled.
It’s not ever gonna happen.
The last thing he wanted was a passionate love affair with a beautiful, violet-eyed woman who was trouble with a capital T.