by CINDI MEYERS
“Anything else?”
“No. The senator said this wasn’t something they should be discussing in public.”
Thompson took a notebook from his pocket and wrote something—maybe Nordley’s name. Or his assessment that Jake was nuts. “A U.S. senator could be doing any number of things—ethical or unethical, legal or illegal—but that doesn’t mean any of them have a connection to Sam Giardino.”
“Yeah. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. But if I’ve heard this rumor about Sam’s powerful friend, I know you have, too. And if we find Sam, he could lead us to that person.”
“We?”
“Do I look like a one-man SWAT team? When I find him, I’ll let you and whatever posse you want to bring do the rest.”
Thompson fell silent. His gaze dropped to Jake’s legs, visible beneath the hem of the hotel robe. The scars from the surgery that had put him back together were clearly visible, white, waxy lines against his skin. “You’re something of a legend, did you know?” Thompson asked. “They say you died twice on the operating table, and almost bought it again when you had pneumonia.”
Was Thompson trying to flatter him? Jake had heard the legend line before—when the Bureau showed him the door and handed him a pension.
“All the more reason for me to want Giardino, to make him pay for the hell he put me through.”
“They also say you’re too obsessed with Giardino—that you’ve made this fight personal.”
“Who is they? And I just told you this fight is personal.”
“You lose your objectivity, you lose all sense of caution.”
“Did they teach you that in Marshal school?”
To his surprise, Thompson laughed. “You don’t sound like any Bureau man I ever met.”
“I never was a typical FBI guy. I was an accountant who thought it would be fun to play secret agent. I found out otherwise.”
Thompson leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You and I are on the same side,” he said. “We both want to protect Anne.”
“Are you in love with her?” Jake looked Thompson in the eye, trying to gauge the marshal’s reaction to the question.
The other man never flinched. “I like Anne and I have a lot of respect for her, but no, I’m not in love with her.”
Jake believed him. “Of course not. Because that would be unprofessional and possibly unethical, and all the things that are probably in a file with my name on it somewhere at the Bureau.”
“I haven’t seen that file, but I heard you were in love with her once. Are you still?”
Jake looked away. “The point is, she’s not in love with me, so let’s leave it at that.”
Neither man said anything for a long moment, the hiss of the propane heater and the bubbling hot-tub jets filling the silence between them. Jake went back to watching the elevator, wondering what was taking Anne so long, yet, at the same time, hoping she’d put off her arrival a few moments longer.
Thompson blew out a breath and sat up straight once more. “If you find Sam—and I still think that’s a big if—what will you do after we arrest him?”
“I don’t know.”
“You mean you didn’t plan for the future?”
“All those times on death’s door taught me not to think too far ahead.”
“Why do you think Sam Giardino is in Telluride?”
Jake was tired of Thompson’s questions, but he figured the guy wouldn’t leave unless he thought he had all the answers. He turned to face the marshal once more. “He’s probably not right in town, but he’s somewhere near here. Anne tells me he has lots of friends with money. One of them probably has a house around here they’re letting him use as a secure hideout.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s here.”
“His son, Sammy, is here.”
“When we spoke on the phone, Anne mentioned she thought she saw him, but it wasn’t a positive ID.”
“She saw him again this morning.”
“Is she sure it was him?”
“Yes. She talked to him. He didn’t know it was her. She pretended to be a French tourist and he decided to flirt with her. She was having trouble shaking him.”
This news clearly alarmed Thompson. “She needs to leave here right away. This isn’t worth endangering her life.”
“It’s my life, Patrick. I appreciate your concern, but I’m not going to run away again.”
Both men looked up and found Anne walking toward them. She wore one of the white hotel bathrobes cinched tightly around her waist, and brown Ugg boots, the combination seeming somehow chic on her.
Thompson stood. Jake was slower to rise to his feet, but if Thompson was going to be such a gentleman, he wouldn’t be outdone, even if his stiffening limbs protested.
All her attention was focused on Thompson, however. “Patrick, what are you doing here? I thought we agreed you were going to wait for my call.”
“My job is to look after you. That includes keeping track of where you are.”
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“Telluride isn’t that big of a town. I only had to contact a few hotels with your description before I found the right one. And if it’s that simple for me to locate you, your enemies wouldn’t have any difficulty locating you, either.”
Jake wanted to punch the man for trying to scare her, but he should have known Anne wouldn’t frighten easily. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to follow me here.”
“I had to make sure Jake wasn’t putting you in danger.”
She looked at Jake, a half smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “And what did you decide?”
“He told me you saw your brother today. That you talked to him. That’s getting much too close.”
“Sammy didn’t recognize me.”
“You were lucky this time. What if next time your luck has run out?” He fixed his dark gaze on her. “I know it’s difficult to see family—people you love—as a danger to you. But you know your father is ruthless. He would kill you, if given the chance, even if you don’t want to believe it.”
“I don’t want to believe it,” she admitted. “But I know you’re right. Which is why it’s so important to lock him up again, where he can’t get to me.”
Jake realized she was repeating his words. Did she believe them now, or was she using them as a convenient way to put off Thompson?
“Now that we suspect he’s in the area, you can leave,” Thompson said. “We’ll take it from here.”
“How are you going to find him? My father hasn’t avoided jail time all these years by not being able to spot law enforcement a mile away.”
“He didn’t spot Jake.”
She flushed. “Jake isn’t a typical agent, I don’t think.”
The frown lines on Thompson’s forehead deepened. “I don’t like it.”
“But it’s my decision to make,” she said. “And I want to stay here and see if we can find my father. When we do, I promise I’ll let you handle it.”
Thompson looked at Jake. “Do you really trust him?”
“He hasn’t given me any reason not to so far,” she said.
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Then, yes. Yes, I trust him.”
Jake moved to Anne’s side. “Give us another couple of days to see if we can locate the Giardino hideout,” he said. “We’ll keep you informed, but give us room to work.”
Thompson looked grim. “All right. I’ll give you two days.” He turned to Anne. “But at the first sign of trouble, call me. We’re already working on a new plan for you, someplace where you’ll be safe.”
She nodded, though her eyes looked bleak. Jake wouldn’t blame her if she balked at starting over yet again, with another new name, new job and new identity. How often could a
person do that before she didn’t know who she was anymore?
Thompson left them. When the elevator doors closed behind him, Jake said, “Let’s get in the hot tub. We can talk there.”
He lowered himself into the water quickly, submerging his legs before she got a good look at the scars. He wasn’t a vain man, but he didn’t want her feeling sorry for him, or thinking he was a freak. She took her time pulling off her boots, then slipped out of the robe and folded it neatly across the bench beside the hot tub.
His heart stopped beating for a few breaths, or at least it felt that way as he stared at her, at the blue Lycra swimsuit hugging the swell of her breasts, at the indentation of her waist and the flare of her hips. Her long, bare legs seemed perfect, and looking at them made him feel even more glad to be alive. As long as he lived, she would always be the standard by which he’d judge other women; time and the differences between them hadn’t changed that. The beauty he saw in her wasn’t merely a matter of physical appearance, though she’d always been a woman who turned heads wherever she went. He knew the loveliness of the woman she was inside—the intelligence and compassion and bravery that made her, to him, the most gorgeous person in the world.
“You can put your eyes back in your head now,” she said as she slipped into the water across from him.
“Can’t blame a guy for looking,” he said. Too bad looking was all he’d do. Once she had welcomed his touch, but that seemed a long time ago. Despite the way she’d warmed to him over the last twenty-four hours, and her response to the one kiss they’d shared in the car, she’d made it clear that she didn’t think the man she loved existed anymore—and the real man who’d showed up to take his place didn’t measure up.
“Mmmmm.” She sank lower in the water and closed her eyes. “So now that we’ve convinced Patrick that we can track down my father, how are we going to do it?”
“You could talk to Sammy. Arrange to meet him in some neutral location and see if you can persuade him it’s to his benefit to turn the old man in.”
“I don’t think it would work.”
“Because Sammy is more loyal to his father than you were?”
“He married Stacy to please my father.”
“One more reason to resent the old man.” Jake drummed his fingers on the side of the tub. “I wasn’t a part of your household long, but from what I saw, your father rode Sammy pretty hard. He wasn’t spoiled like you.”
She opened her eyes. “That’s because I was a woman—my father didn’t expect anything from me. He was hard on Sammy because he thought that was the way to make him hard, to prepare him to be the boss one day.”
“Maybe so. But that kind of treatment gets old, especially now that Sammy is a grown man. He’d probably jump at the chance to run the organization without your dad to interfere.”
“Sammy wouldn’t refuse to work with us out of loyalty to my father so much as he’d refuse in order to protect himself. If anyone thought he was on the side of the cops, he wouldn’t have any power, even with my father out of the way. And he could think that this would be letting the police get a wedge in. First, they take out his father, then they start in on him. He wouldn’t risk it.”
“Then what else can we do? Sammy is all we’ve got.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” She sat up straighter, water streaming off her shoulders and the tops of her breasts, distracting him. “There’s somebody else we can lean on to try to find out where my father is staying,” she said.
He forced his attention back to her face. “Who’s that?”
“His driver. He always has one. He’s not going to ride a shuttle like a common tourist, and he doesn’t drive himself. Instead, he has a car take him from wherever he’s staying, and drop him off at the base of the lifts. If we find the driver, we can either follow him back to the hideout, or we can try to persuade him to tell us the location of the house.”
“Talking is probably better than following. He’s liable to spot a tail and get suspicious. Outside of town, there isn’t much traffic.”
“Tomorrow morning, we should go to the drop-off area near the gondola and look for the driver. We might even see my father, which would confirm he’s here.”
“Have I told you lately that you’re brilliant?”
“Not brilliant enough to think of it before now.”
“That’s still brilliant.” He checked the elevator again; no one had come up. They were still alone. “Patrick Thompson is worried about you,” he said.
“He takes his job seriously.”
“Because he’s in love with you?” Thompson had denied any romantic feelings for Anne, but maybe she felt more deeply for the man who had rescued her from possible death.
She regarded him coolly. “Why? Are you jealous?”
“Yes.”
“Jake, don’t.” She put up a hand as if to physically push him away.
“I know things can’t be the way they were between us before,” he said. “But I want you to know, it meant a lot to me when you told Thompson you trusted me.”
“I do trust you, Jake. I’m just—we’re both different now.”
“I know. Just trust that I’m here if you need me—for whatever.”
She nodded and looked away. He wanted to reach across the foaming water and pull her to him, but he held back. He cared about her, but maybe some of what he felt for her was merely nostalgia for what they’d had once before. She had been right when she’d said they were different now. He didn’t know if he had it in him anymore to trust anyone the way he’d once trusted her.
The elevator opened, and a trio of young women emerged, giggling and talking, robes open over bright bikinis. They headed straight for the hot tub. Jake stifled a groan. So much for quiet relaxation. He turned to suggest they leave, and found Anne moving toward him. Before he could say a word, she covered his mouth with hers, and wrapped her arms around him. All coherent thought fled as he responded. For whatever reason, Anne was suddenly kissing him as if her life depended on it.
Chapter Fourteen
Jake’s lips against Anne’s felt both wonderfully familiar and excitingly new, she thought as she moved in closer. He wrapped strong arms around her and pulled her onto his lap, where the evidence of his desire pressed against her thigh, sending an almost-forgotten thrill through her. He slid one hand down her back to cup her bottom, and the thrill coalesced into full-on desire. She squirmed closer, and deepened the kiss, tasting him, unable to get enough of him.
“Ewww. Get a room!” a high-pitched voice said, followed by a chorus of giggles. Then the voices moved away.
Jake pulled back, just enough to slide his mouth to her ear. “Not that I’m sorry in the least, but what brought this on?” he asked.
“I didn’t want those girls disturbing us.”
“Mmmm.” He nibbled her ear, and pure, erotic pleasure shivered through her. “Now you’re the one who has me disturbed.” He moved his mouth back to hers and kissed her again, a deep, shuddering kiss that left her breathless and clinging to him, as if he’d turned her bones to butter.
“I...I was just trying to get them to go away.” She tried to move out of his arms, but he held her fast.
“So you were just acting. You didn’t really want to kiss me.” He traced the hollow of her neck with his tongue.
“Maybe I did.” Maybe she’d wanted to kiss him since that first night in Rogers, when he’d held her in his arms. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea.” Why start something they couldn’t finish?
“I think it’s a very good idea.” He cupped her bottom more tightly, and slid one finger into the leg opening of her swimsuit.
She gasped. “I...” But words failed her as he slipped one finger into her. He moved his other hand up to cup her breast, rubbing his palm over the sensitive nub of her
nipple.
“Do you remember that night after your father’s birthday party?” he asked. “When we sneaked out to the pool after everyone was asleep?”
She had a sudden vision of moonlight on water, the cityscape behind them. Moonlight on the hard planes and honed muscles of Jake’s lithe body, naked as he dove into the water. She’d been naked, too, bold as she swam after him, then with him. They’d teased and tantalized each other, unashamed, then made love on a chaise longue by the edge of the water, no doubt providing entertainment for the guards who remained unseen, but whom she knew were on duty. Guards were always on duty in her father’s house.
“Th-that was Elizabeth,” she stammered, as he moved his finger to stroke her. “I’m Anne now.”
“And Anne doesn’t do things like this?” He bent his head and covered her breast with his mouth, kissing her through the thin, wet fabric of the suit.
“Jake, we can’t.” She put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him away. She retreated across the hot tub and wrapped her arms across her chest. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” His eyes burned into her. “We can go up to the room and finish this.”
She swallowed hard, fighting the images his invitation suggested, of naked bodies writhing in the sheets, of Jake doing things to her he did so well. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Is that your brain or your heart talking?”
“Jake, I don’t love you anymore. I can’t.”
“Can’t—or won’t?”
“It’s too dangerous.” She’d seen him die on that ballroom floor, bleeding to death in front of her, and for a while she hadn’t wanted to live, either. She couldn’t go through something like that again.
“Don’t tell me you don’t still want me,” he said.
“Yes, I want you. But...” Heat suffused her cheeks and she almost laughed. After all they’d done, to think she could still be embarrassed. “I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.”
“No one since me, you mean?” His voice grew husky. “I haven’t been with anyone, either.”
