by Elle Kennedy
Jamie met his eyes. “Did you threaten her?”
Frustration roiled in his belly. “Honestly? I don’t really remember. I may have told her to stop pushing me or she’d regret it, but I didn’t say I was going to kill her. I just wanted to put an end to that foolish court case.”
“That’s what I figured,” Jamie said softly. “I don’t believe you meant it as a threat to her life.”
He searched her face, seeing nothing but sincerity there. “You’re probably the only one who thinks that,” he said with a sigh. “Finnegan is convinced I’m a murderer. I’m sure the people in town think so too.”
Something flickered in her expression, causing Cole to narrow his eyes. “What is it?”
“I ran into Valerie Matthews at the diner earlier,” she said. “I don’t know about anyone else in town, but she definitely believes you murdered her sister.” Jamie paused. “I’m pretty sure she gave me a warning.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
The frown deepened as Jamie told him about the mysterious note that had been left on her car, accusing her of having a death wish. When she finished, Cole fought a rush of anger, turning his head so she wouldn’t see the volatile look in his eyes. The thought of someone going out of their way to warn Jamie about him made his stomach clench.
When had he become the villain? He’d worked damn hard to get to where he was, spent years building his business into the successful empire it was today. The only mistake he’d made was marrying Teresa Matthews. He’d let lust cloud his common sense, married a woman he’d hardly known and now he was paying the price for it.
The sympathy on Jamie’s face only made it worse. He didn’t want her feeling sorry for him. Didn’t need her or anyone else’s pity. Curling his hands into fists, he tightened his jaw and shot her a dark look.
“So someone left you a warning note and yet you still came here. What, you’re not scared of me?”
She seemed wary, no doubt because of the feral expression he knew must be on his face. “No, I’m not scared of you, Cole.”
“Well, maybe you should be,” he muttered. “Apparently I’m the man women file restraining orders against.” He cursed. “Lord, when the papers find out about this…”
“It might not get out.”
He gave a derisive snort. “Of course it will get out. I’m a wealthy man and people love scandals. Know what they love even more? Kicking a man when he’s down.”
Her voice grew strained. “Cole, come on.”
He was so overcome by a wave of atypical self-pity that he didn’t even notice her move closer, not until her warm hand stroked his cheek. The gentleness of her touch only made him angrier, and with another expletive, he pushed her hand away.
“Don’t,” he choked out. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
Her violet eyes shone with more of that sympathy he was tired of seeing. “I hate seeing you like this.”
“Then leave.”
He knew he was being an ass, but at the moment, he was tired of keeping up a careless front. This entire time he’d assured himself that the investigation would blow over. That Gideon would tell the truth. That a new suspect would crop up. Well, none of that had happened, and not even Jamie Crawford’s soothing presence could fix his mess of a life.
“I’m not leaving,” Jamie said, sounding irritated. “You’re upset. You need someone to talk to. You need a friend.”
He gave an incredulous laugh. “We barely know each other. And even if we did, there’s no way we can be friends, Jamie.”
She frowned. “Why, because I’m a cop?”
“No, because we’re attracted to each other.”
Her breath hitched, but she made no attempt to deny it. From the moment he’d met her, she’d triggered his desire. It was like a magnet was pulling him toward her, and that same force had him moving closer now. Everything about this woman got his blood going. The curve of her graceful neck, the flowery scent of her perfume, the way her clothes hugged her long, willowy frame.
He’d already had a taste of her, felt her lush lips pressed against his own. God help him, but he wanted another taste.
Despite the warning bells going off in his head, he dipped it, so that their lips were inches apart. Maybe if she’d pushed him away, he could have controlled the wave of need swelling in his body, but then her gaze flitted to his mouth, her eyes darkened to a smoky violet and Cole’s control snapped like a rubber band.
Growling low in the back of his throat, he tangled one hand through Jamie’s silky red hair and kissed her. She gasped, then parted her lips and let his tongue inside. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen as he explored Jamie’s sweet, warm mouth. His hands drifted down to grip her waist, sliding under the hem of her shirt, touching bare skin. The heat of her flesh sent his head spinning, had him kissing her deeper, harder, and as much as he wanted to keep his mouth on hers for as long as he could, he wanted her naked even more.
She must have felt the same urgency, because the next thing he knew, they were pawing at each other’s clothing like reckless teenagers. Buttons snapped, zippers hissed, the soft thud of clothing hitting the hardwood floor. And then he was in nothing but a pair of black boxers, Jamie in a pale green bra and matching panties, and they tumbled back on the couch, their mouths and hands taking on minds of their own.
Cole groaned as Jamie pressed her mouth against his chest, as she lavished kisses over his feverish skin, as her hand circled his shaft and pumped him in a slow, lazy rhythm that had him seeing stars. And then she slid off the couch, got to her knees, and freed his erection. When she covered it with her mouth, the stars became a white haze that made it impossible to see, let alone think.
His head lolled to the side, too heavy to keep upright the longer she moved her tongue over him. His muscles tensed, chest tight with arousal as Jamie drove him wild with her mouth. When she rested one hand on his thigh, squeezing hard, he nearly lost control. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to stop that rising release. Groaning, he tugged on her long hair and brought her back to the couch, his mouth finding hers once more.
This time it was his hands doing the exploring, his mouth peppering kisses over every inch of her slender body, over every curve, every secret place. He unclasped the front of her bra and his mouth went dry when her breasts spilled out, her dusky red nipples rigid and demanding attention.
Jamie sighed with pleasure as he covered one tight bud with his mouth and suckled gently. Her hands rested on the back of his head, keeping him in place, drawing him closer. As he feasted on her breasts, he tugged on her panties, scrunched them between his fingers and shoved them down her legs.
“This is crazy,” she whispered, then moaned softly as his hand moved between her legs and stroked her core.
Crazy. With his heart thrashing an irregular beat in his chest and his erection throbbing relentlessly against her firm thigh, he knew she was right. Forget lust. This was something entirely different. Something carnal and out of control and—
“We can’t do this,” he choked out.
As Jamie blinked in confusion, Cole practically dove off her, shoving his boxers up to his hips as he struggled for breath. The sight of her gorgeous body stretched out on the couch, the trust glimmering in her eyes, her tousled hair and bee-stung lips—it all succeeded in sending a streak of guilt through his chest.
What was he doing? He couldn’t sleep with this woman. Not with this black cloud hanging over his head, threatening to destroy him. Not while vultures circled Donovan Enterprises, watching the stock plummet and waiting for the opportune moment to snatch up the empire. He had to focus on saving his livelihood. On clearing his name. And no matter how badly he wanted Jamie Crawford, taking her would be a big mistake. He was in no shape to get involved with anyone right now. Call him a coward, but he had no intention of handing his heart over to another woman, only to have it ripped to shreds.
“Cole,” she started, her voice shaky. “I—”
&nbs
p; “I’m sorry,” he cut in, breathing hard to steady his racing heart. “That shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She swallowed, then sat up, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. He glimpsed a flash of disappointment in her eyes, but within seconds, it faded, replaced by the same unease plaguing his own body.
“Oh God,” she whispered, suddenly jumping off the couch in search of her clothes. “You’re right, we shouldn’t have let that happen.”
They both dressed in a hurry, as tension and lingering heat sizzled between them like an electric current. Cole was buttoning up his shirt when Jamie finally spoke. “I didn’t come here for that,” she stammered. “I really just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I know,” he said in a gruff voice.
“But I meant what I said about being friends. Maybe I’m being foolish, but I don’t think you killed Teresa, Cole. I look into your eyes and I don’t see a killer.”
“Because I’m not.” A lump rose in his throat. “I didn’t murder my ex-wife. I can’t say I’m sad that she’s gone, or that I’m happy about all this so-called evidence against me, but I can promise you I had nothing to do with her death.”
“I believe you.”
Those three words caused his throat to tighten. Gratitude flooded every part of his body, and he found himself locking his gaze with hers. “Thank you.” The lump at the back of his throat grew even bigger. “But I meant what I said before. We can’t be friends, Jamie. Right now, my only concern is staying out of prison, and I can’t drag anyone else down with me.”
Though she looked sad, she gave a slight nod. “You were right, anyway. I’m not sure this attraction between us is conducive to a friendship.”
He swept his gaze over rumpled clothing and mussed-up hair, and a sigh lodged in his chest. “Friendship might be hard to manage.”
A silence fell. Cole watched as Jamie picked up her purse from the floor and slung the strap over her shoulder. Neither of them spoke as they headed for the front door, the slow pace revealing the hesitation Cole felt, which she must be feeling as well. But it was for the best. Every cell in his body might be pleading with him to take this woman to bed, but he couldn’t act on the foolish impulse.
His last relationship had died a fiery death, all thanks to him throwing caution into the wind and jumping into something without thinking. And now his life was in shambles.
Sleeping with Jamie wouldn’t fix a damn thing. It would only add to his current stress levels. Yes, he knew that Jamie Crawford was nothing like his ex-wife. She wouldn’t betray him. Wouldn’t destroy him.
Or at least he didn’t think she would.
But that sliver of doubt couldn’t be ignored. Teresa had made it impossible for him to ever fully trust another woman. He refused to be played for a fool again. And if that meant staying away from Jamie Crawford, then that was something he was willing—not happy to, but willing—to do.
Chapter 8
Jamie’s entire body was trembling as she hurried down the porch steps of Cole’s house and made a beeline for her car. What had she done? Coming to Cole to offer support was one thing, but nearly having sex with the man? Thank God he’d stopped them before she made a huge mistake.
She slid into the driver’s seat and took a calming breath, then glanced in the rearview mirror. Her reflection floored her. Tousled hair, swollen lips, a rosy glow to her cheeks.
She tore her gaze away and drew more air into her lungs. So she’d given in to her primal urges and almost slept with Cole Donovan. She’d made a mistake, and she’d always prided herself on being able to learn from her mistakes. All she had to do was recognize that sleeping with Cole would be a terrible error in judgment and make sure she didn’t give in to temptation again.
Because really, what was the point in jumping into an affair with this man? Cole wasn’t the man she envisioned when she thought about settling down with a husband and children. She wanted someone to balance her out, a man who was kind, stable, who’d be a good father. Someone whose job wasn’t as demanding as hers. Cole was a multimillionaire real estate developer, for Pete’s sake. He was probably as busy as she was, if not more so. They’d never be able to make it work.
Oh, and he was a murder suspect.
How could she forget that little tidbit? But for the life of her, she still couldn’t bring herself to believe that Cole Donovan was a killer.
As confusion spun through her body, she started the car and placed her trembling hands on the steering wheel. She needed to get out of here. Away from this house. Away from Cole. Everything he’d said back there had been right. They couldn’t get involved. And they couldn’t be friends. He was a suspect, she was the cop investigating his ex-wife’s death.
Then start investigating.
The annoying voice in her head gave her pause, causing her to slow the SUV as she drove through the gate on Cole’s property. The image of Cole’s ravaged face burned across her brain, the defeated tone of his voice as he’d spoken about kicking a man when he’s down. The way he’d mocked her about being scared of him. The choked words—“Don’t feel sorry for me.”
God, she had to help him. Maybe she really was a total idiot, but she didn’t like to see anyone suffer. Especially a man as strong and powerful as Cole.
Lifting her chin in resolve, she accelerated swiftly and took a left turn, not in the direction of town, but towards Joe Gideon’s cabin. Gideon was the key. The one holding Cole’s freedom in his hands. The man had lied to her when she’d gone to see him. He must have seen Cole that night, only he was too damn stubborn to tell the truth.
She squared her shoulders as she drove onto Gideon’s property. This time she was determined to get through to the man, to make him see that his lie was only slowing down the investigation and hindering them from finding the real killer.
Shutting off the engine, Jamie got out of the car and headed toward the disheveled porch. She knocked, waited and when Gideon opened the door with a suspicious look, Jamie flashed him a big smile. Refusing to be deterred, even when he greeted her with “You again?”
“Me again,” she said in a pleasant voice. “Do you mind if I come in?”
Gideon frowned. “Is the bastard in jail yet?”
“No, but to make that happen, I need to go over your statement again.”
Fiddling with the hem of his red-and-black flannel shirt, Gideon studied her for a long moment before inviting her in. “I already told you everything,” he said as they headed once again into his drab, musty living room.
“I know, but I’m just here to dot some i’s and cross some t’s.”
“Okay,” he said warily.
They sat down on the tattered couch, and Jamie pulled the tape recorder from her purse. “This really won’t take long,” she assured him. “Just tell me your version of events again.” She paused to offer another smile. “Every detail has to be documented for when you testify.”
Gideon had been in the process of running his hand through his thick beard. Now that hand froze. “Testify?” he echoed.
Gotcha.
“Well, of course. The district attorney will subpoena you as a witness for the state. You’ll be required to testify in a courtroom.”
Uneasiness flickered across his face. “Court?”
Jamie tried not to roll her eyes. “If Mr. Donovan is arrested and indicted by a grand jury, he’s entitled to a trial. Seeing as the alibi he provided depends on you, you will most likely be one of the state’s star witnesses.”
Gideon visibly gulped.
“So, let’s just go over your story and—”
“What would I have to say?” he interrupted.
She smothered an incredulous laugh. “The truth, of course.”
After a moment of reluctance, his bearded chin jutted out. “Fine, I’ll do that.”
“Okay, then let me tell you what you can expect in court, Mr. Gideon.” She clasped her hands together. “You’ll have to take the stand and swe
ar on a Bible to tell the truth. Then you’ll tell the judge and jury what you just told me, that you never saw Mr. Donovan the night his ex-wife died. And then Mr. Donovan’s defense attorney will cross-examine you. Now I should warn you…” She let her voice drift off ominously.
“Warn me about what?” Gideon mumbled.
“Those defense lawyers…they can get pretty nasty. They’ll want to discredit you, and they’ll use every trick in the book to do that. They’ll dig into your personal life, bring up any distasteful, well, vices you might have. Your entire life, your past mistakes, bad choices, all that will be brought to light.”
“You don’t say,” he said in chagrin.
“The sheriff told me you’re currently unemployed and recently divorced.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “That might come up in the trial too.”
Gideon went utterly silent. Jamie could see his brain working over the details she’d given it, as he weighed the pros and cons of his predicament. As angry and pathetic as this man might be, he was also proud. She could see it in the way he held his shoulders, from the tight set of his massive jaw. He didn’t want his dirty laundry aired out in a courtroom. Nobody did.
“Do you understand everything I’m saying to you?” she asked in a quiet voice.
His thick throat bobbed as he swallowed again. “I think I do, ma’am.”
“Good.” She unclasped her hands and placed them on her thighs, lifting her head in resolve. “So why don’t we go over your story again, shall we? Tell me, what happened on July 15?”
Finn’s head jerked up as Jamie strode into his office thirty minutes later. She’d caught him on his lunch break, judging from the enormous Reuben sandwich sitting on the desktop and the tall foam coffee cup. He offered a tentative smile when he saw her, but before he could speak—or perhaps apologize for the way he’d shut her out earlier—she marched up to the desk and dropped a piece of paper in front of him.
“Here you go,” she said cheerfully.
Finn furrowed his brows. “What’s this?”
“A signed statement from Joe Gideon, admitting that he saw Cole in the woods at 2:00 a.m. which, if I recall correctly, is when the medical examiner says Teresa died.”
