“So you complained to Mr. Bloodworth?”
“Yes and I suggested he ask his friend whether he’d heard anything about the consulate closing.” She looked at Jesse, raised her palms. “I didn’t know he’d heard back from his friend until earlier today.”
Agent Fielder flipped through several pages of the file and pushed a legal-sized document across the table toward Angelita. “How did you get from thinking he was lying to receiving this legal contract giving him power to purchase and ship your textiles?”
“How did you get this?”
“What prompted him to send the contract, Ms. Barros?”
She sighed and sat back in her chair. Jesse wanted desperately to reach out to her, she looked so deflated, but he thought the contact would elicit more questions from Agent Fielder. “He made more threats; my business partner, anyone I cared about.” Her eyes cut to Jesse’s as she jerked a shoulder and sat up. “I couldn’t take the chance.”
“You were afraid for Sophie?” Jesse asked.
She nodded and in her eyes he saw everything he needed. “For everyone,” she said. She’d been scared, not for herself, but for her friends and, from the look on her face, he now knew for him.
Agent Fielder pulled the contract back across the table, placed it in the file and closed it. “You haven’t signed the contract, have you, Ms. Barros?”
“No.”
“You’re one lucky lady.” He stood and picked up the file as if to leave. Jesse didn’t know if he was going to arrest them or throw them out. “He was brought in this afternoon. One of his sources, a guy we picked up a few months ago, started talking. We’ve got enough evidence to keep your father behind bars until he’s…late seventies, I’d imagine.”
Angelita looked pale with shock. “He’s been arrested?”
Agent Fielder nodded and held out a hand for Jesse to shake as he stood and helped Angelita to her feet. “I appreciate your coming in. We’d have had to bring you in for questioning anyway and this saves us a step. I’ll need you both to sign a transcript before you leave.”
“We’re not in trouble?” she asked as they reached the door and Agent Fielder swung it open.
“No, ma’am, you’re free to go.”
***
Lita sat in the passenger seat, numb, exhausted, confused. Her father was in jail, Jesse was driving her home, and her company’s future was hers and Sophie’s to decide. “I’ve got to call Sophie.” She reached for her purse on the floorboard.
“It’s almost midnight.” Jesse pointed to the clock on the dash. “Maybe you should wait until morning.”
“You’re right. She’s pregnant and, with the first trimester fatigue, I’d imagine she’s been asleep for hours.” She looked over at him, driving her SUV as comfortably as he drove his decades old Scout, all rumpled, sexy, and…what? She wanted him to be hers, wanted it so bad she could taste it on her tongue, but now that she was out of danger and he’d ridden to her rescue, would he mount up in the morning and head back to Sequoyah Falls? Of course he would. He had a son and a business to take care of, not to mention the fact that they’d never discussed any sort of relationship between them. It was crazy. Her father sat in jail and she couldn’t give a damn, but the thought of Jesse heading out of town left her terrified. As much as she’d always avoided relationships with men, she couldn’t imagine not seeing him again, not being a part of his life.
“You okay?” He brushed his hand over her knee and the intimacy of the moment, the familiarity they’d come to share had her throat closing.
“Yeah. I’m a little overwhelmed by everything, but yeah, I’m fine.”
He pulled her car to a stop in the parking garage and turned off the ignition. “Do you want me to walk you up?”
“You’re not staying?”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“Don’t be stupid, Jesse. Not only is it almost midnight, as you pointed out, but I want you to stay.” She reached out for his hand. “Please stay.”
He led her to a luxury sedan parked along a side street and opened the trunk.
“Whose car is this?” she asked.
“Mine.” He retrieved a small bag from the otherwise barren space and gently closed the back. He tried to take her hand and walk back to her condo, but she didn’t move.
“Yours. This is your car?”
“Yes.”
“You made me ride all over creation in that windowless, doorless thing you drive when all the while you had this beautiful…” She walked alongside and looked in the windows. “…leather upholstered, wood-grained luxury car?”
He shrugged and grabbed her hand, pulled her toward her condo. “You don’t like the Scout? I’m hurt.”
She slapped his chest as he pulled her tight. “Just what the hell did you do in Atlanta to afford all this?”
He stopped at looked at her confused.
“Your house? Your business? A luxury car? I can barely afford my mortgage and the SUV was a big splurge, but you seem to have it all figured out.”
“I had a friend with a start-up company. I invested a few thousand and it paid off big time.” He laughed at her befuddled expression. “You look so cute when you’re mad.”
She wasn’t mad, not by a long shot. It felt so right, him being with her, and yet so surreal. She had to work at keeping her grasp light, as she wanted to clutch at him and make him need her the way she needed him. She led him to her bedroom and slipped inside the bathroom, unexpectedly nervous as she closed the door behind her.
She emerged from the bathroom to find candles lit, the small ones she’d placed on her nightstand and the mantle of her bedroom fireplace. The smells of vanilla and cinnamon lent an almost balmy feel to the dim room. Her head felt dizzy with sensation.
Jesse stood with his back to her, a framed photograph of her and Sophie at Sophie’s wedding in his hand. Light danced over every curve of muscle, every angle of his profile. When she cleared her throat he turned.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
She walked to him. The silky nightgown she’d chosen shimmied over her skin as she moved, arousing and teasing them both. “No.”
He put the picture down and watched her. She felt every flick of his eyes as if they were his hands. He touched a finger to her shoulder, ran it down her arm causing chills to rise on her skin. “I was too rough with you this afternoon.”
She shook her head. “You’ve never hurt me, Jesse. You wouldn’t.” But he could, if he chose to walk away, chose to turn his back on what they’d begun.
“I would never want to.” His lips followed the trail of his finger and she felt her knees wobble. “You’re fragile, Angelita. You’ve got such tender skin.”
“I won’t break, but I won’t be able to stand much longer if you keep touching me that way.”
He smiled as he lifted her off her feet, carried her in his arms to the bed. “Then let’s get you off your feet.”
How could he draw her so far out of herself with just a look, a touch? Every time they were together, it felt different and every time she inched closer to the edge of something dangerous. There were no thoughts of fear when he cradled her, sent feathery kisses along her neck and shoulders, the warmth from his breath searing through to her soul. There was something more here than lust, more than desire, more than longing.
Her fingers drew his boxers away to reveal skin as soft and alluring as the underside of a rock in the forest. His skin, the heat from his body against the silk of her gown, created friction that drove them both to the brink. He murmured soft words she couldn’t understand, but felt deep within her heart. It opened, quivered, and spilled into him with a force she couldn’t stop. Her eyes flew open at the discovery and were met by his, watching, seeking some answer to the only question that would ever matter.
He slipped inside of her and slowly, meticulously eased their hunger. When she fell asleep, she didn’t know where she ended and he began.
Chapter 32
Jesse
brewed coffee in the fancy maker Angelita had perched on the creamy tiles of her counter. The sun had just risen above the trees that lorded over her historic complex and he could see joggers heading to the park to get in a few miles before work. He knew why she loved this place, with its long, full windows and sills deep enough to perch on, views of the park and the narrow street below. From the quirky dancing frog salt and pepper shakers to the gecko towel holder, she’d made the space her own.
There wasn’t anything whimsical about his home in the woods. He loved it, had brought it to life with stain, paint, and furniture, but it lacked that special touch she brought to her condo. What it lacked was her. Last night had been like a dream. Holding her, watching her move in the candlelight, hearing his name come from her lips as she cried out. There was no way in hell he could walk away from her.
He’d meant to talk to her last night, but when she’d walked out of the bathroom in that see-through nothing, his mind had blanked and he only saw her and the flicker of candlelight in her impossibly dark eyes. He didn’t have a clue how she felt about him and they’d never really gotten into why she left without a word. For a moment, sitting in the DEA conference room, he thought he’d seen the answer in her eyes. But in the light of day he couldn’t be sure. The ring tucked in his pants felt like a ticking time bomb.
She walked out of the bedroom, her hair curling around her face and her eyes puffy from sleep, the silky nightgown he’d peeled off her last night rumpled. “I could get used to waking up to freshly brewed coffee.” She wrapped her arms around him and held tight. “And you. Good morning.”
“Sleep well?” He nibbled on her ear.
“For what little we did, yes, very well.”
He filled her mug, added the sugar and milk before handing it to her. She watched him as she sipped, a faint smile on her lips. “I like seeing you in my kitchen.” She set the mug down and ran her palms up his bare chest.
She’d given him the perfect segue and just when he opened his mouth to broach the subject of their relationship, someone gave a brisk knock on the door.
“That’s my neighbor,” she explained. “He stops by sometimes for breakfast.”
“You’re for breakfast,” Jesse said as he moved toward the door. “And I’m not sharing. Don’t you dare put your clothes on.”
He opened the door, prepared to scare off some lonely old man when Sophie’s eyes widened at seeing him. Her initial look of shock faded into a brilliant smile. “Well, we meet again.” She pushed past him into the condo.
Angelita stood in the kitchen, mug in hand, the strap of her teddy draped over one shoulder. He hadn’t even bothered to button his jeans and, between her rumpled appearance and his half-naked body, he was shocked Sophie didn’t seem embarrassed by what she’d walked in on. He went to offer her some coffee when he saw she’d already helped herself to a glass of milk.
“So,” she said with a wicked glint in her eye. “I’m sorry for barging in here like this, but I had to know what was going on—with the business,” she added when Angelita raised her brows at her.
“My father’s in jail,” Angelita explained as Sophie settled onto the couch. Jesse picked up his t-shirt and whipped it over his head. He sat on the wide sill of the den window and watched the two women discuss their company’s future. “I’ve already shredded the contract.”
“Hallelujah.” She looked at Jesse. “I had a good feeling after you left the store yesterday that you’d see to it we’d be okay.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I had very little to do with Angelita’s father going to jail.”
She turned back to Angelita. “How do you feel?”
“Fine. I know that sounds awful, but after what he threatened, on top of everything else he’s done…I don’t really care that he’s going to prison. He certainly didn’t care about putting us in jeopardy of going to jail.”
She patted Angelita’s knee and a look passed between them that confirmed what Angelita had already said; Sophie was her family. Another obstacle to her leaving.
Angelita stood up and stretched. The silky material rose to the tops of her thighs when she lifted her hands above her head and Jesse had to work hard at disguising his reaction. Sophie stood up gingerly. “I’ll get out of your hair. Lita, I’ll see you later at work.”
“No, Sophie, please stay. I’m going to grab a shower and I’d love it if you kept Jesse company.”
Damn, he was hoping to share that shower. Lita walked to him and placed a hand on his cheek. “Do you mind?”
“Nope.”
She kissed him soundly before disappearing behind the bedroom door. Sophie looked over at him appraisingly. “So,” she said. “What’s the story with you and Lita?”
***
Jesse looked like a deer in the headlights. Not that Sophie had ever seen a deer in the headlights, but she imagined the startled eyes and frozen body would be the same.
“You tell me. That woman’s harder to figure out than a Rubik’s Cube.”
Sophie smiled. “You think?”
“Hummph.” He walked into the kitchen to refill his cup of coffee.
“Well…” She followed him in and leaned against the counter. “She likes you. She wouldn’t have let you get as close as you are if she didn’t.”
“You think I’m close?”
“You’re a hell of a lot closer than she lets most guys get. And believe me, they try.”
He looked skeptical instead of amused. “I’ll bet they do. Why does she keep everyone away?”
“Oh, you’re asking for the story of Lita.”
He raised his brows. “I’d like to hear it from her, but I don’t see her spilling her guts anytime this century.”
Sophie glanced at the closed door Lita had sauntered into, heard the water running through the old pipes. “I don’t think she’d like me talking about her.”
“You said yourself she likes me.” He flashed a smile and she knew right away why Lita couldn’t resist him. “What would be the harm?”
She sighed, but didn’t answer.
“How about we start simple,” he suggested. “How did you two meet?”
Sophie laughed. “There’s nothing simple about how Lita and I met.” She looked at him, noticed the way he held her gaze, the patient way he gave her time to think, all the while picking at a spot on the counter like a man anxious, vulnerable. Sophie was a sucker for a vulnerable man.
“Did she tell you about our company?”
“Reluctantly. I did a little research and discovered your little shoe company is on the brink of becoming an international phenomenon.”
“Our little company,” Sophie said wistfully. “When I met Lita, it actually was her little company. What’d she tell you—about how she made a few adjustments to her flip-flops and the rest just fell in her lap?”
“Pretty much.”
“Figures.”
She went back to the couch when her stomach started its daily roller coaster ride. “The only way it fell into her lap was that a woman at a park told her they were ingenious. Little Miss Lita made ten prototypes and walked her eight months’ pregnant body to every shoe store in Atlanta.”
“Pregnant?”
Oh shit. “Lita didn’t tell you about the baby?”
Shoe Strings Page 30
