His Stolen Bride (Chicago Sons) (10 page)

She wanted to look at him, meet his warm eyes, drink in his tender smile. But she didn’t dare. No matter what Vern had said or done, she had no right to feel this way about Jackson.

She fixed her gaze on the traffic, bright headlights whizzing past in a rush. She didn’t know Jackson. She didn’t like Jackson. By this time tomorrow, he’d be nothing but a fading memory.

CHAPTER SIX

D
espite the humble name, Jackson knew Anthony’s was an upscale restaurant housed in a redbrick colonial mansion. Owned by a close friend of his, its high ceilings, ornate woodwork and sweeping staircase gave an ambience of grandeur and a distinct sensation of class.

Tonight, he hadn’t been interested in the restaurant, but in the historic B and B rooms on the third floor of the building. He knew he could count on Anthony not to ask questions or keep a record of their stay. It was the closest thing Jackson had to a safe house.

Their room had a four-poster king-size bed, a stone fireplace and sloped cedarwood ceilings. There was a small dining table in a bay window alcove, and a sofa that the housekeeper had already converted into a second bed.

Crista had opted to take a shower, while Jackson had stretched out on top of the sofa bed, a news station playing on the television and his laptop open to the photos of Vern and Gracie. The resolution on the pictures was high, so it was going to be easy to show they hadn’t been altered.

His browsing was interrupted when the bathroom door opened and Crista appeared. She was dressed in a fluffy white robe, drying her auburn hair with a towel.

“That shouldn’t be all it takes to make me feel better,” she said in a cheerful voice as she padded toward him on bare feet. “But it does.” She plunked down on the opposite side of the sofa. “I’m refreshed.”

Just her appearance made him feel better. She was easy on the eyes and entertaining for his mind. He realized the only thing he liked better than looking at her was listening to her.

“I don’t know if this will make you feel better or worse.” It certainly made him feel better.

He slid the laptop across the sofa bed toward her. “I’ve zoomed way in on the pixels. Stare all you want. The pictures haven’t been altered.”

She shifted on the bed and moved the computer to her lap.

“The dates and times are registered in the metadata,” he said, anticipating that as an argument from Crista, or possibly a defense later from Vern.

“He’s hugging her.” Crista zoomed the view out.

“And here he’s kissing her.” Jackson reached over to scroll to the next photo.

“It doesn’t look brotherly,” she said.

“It’s not.”

“This is hard to accept.”

A female television announcer caught Jackson’s attention.

“The Fountain Lake Family Hotel was the scene of a structure fire this evening,” she said. “Over three hundred guests were evacuated, while engines and firefighters were deployed from three stations in the area. Fire Chief Brandon Dorsey says that arson has not been ruled out.”

The view switched to a reporter at the front of the hotel. He was interviewing a guest against a backdrop of fire engines and police cars.

“Is that code to say that it was arson?” asked Crista, her gaze on the TV screen.

“It means it’s early in the investigation,” Jackson answered honestly. But it was arson. He knew it was arson.

“Tell me the truth,” she said, her gaze not wavering.

“He did it to get us both out of the building. He wants you back. But I’m guessing he also wants you far away from me.”

She turned her head, looking surprised. “Why?”

“You have a mirror, right?”

She lifted her hand and self-consciously touched her damp hair. It was tousled and incredibly sexy.

“He thinks I’m your ex-boyfriend,” Jackson reminded her.

“I forgot about that.”

“He doesn’t want the competition. I don’t blame him.”

If Crista were his, Jackson couldn’t honestly say he wouldn’t set a building on fire.

Looking unsettled, she turned her attention back to the laptop.

“I’m going to have to end it, aren’t I?” Her tone was regretful.

Yes!
“That’s up to you.”

She looked back at Jackson. “I don’t think I can marry a man who’s been unfaithful.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t marry him, or wouldn’t be unfaithful?”

“Neither.” He felt himself ease closer to her. It was impossible to keep his true thoughts at bay. “Any man who cheats on you is out of his ever-lovin’ mind.”

She gave a ghost of a smile. “That’s very nice of you to say.”

“It’s the truth.”

Silence descended between them.

He wanted to kiss her now. He desperately wanted to kiss her luscious red lips. The robe’s lapels revealed the barest hint of cleavage. Her skin was dewy from the hot shower. And he was all but lost in her jewel-green eyes.

“I guess I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” she said.

And say what?
The question was so loud inside his head that for a moment he was afraid he’d shouted it.

“Unless there’s some miraculous explanation,” she continued, “I’m handing back his ring and walking out of his life.”

“There’ll be no miracle.”

She nodded, twisting the diamond around her finger.

He gently but firmly took her hands. Then he slipped the ring off her finger, reaching up to place it on the table behind the sofa.

“But—” She looked like she wanted to retrieve it.

“Afraid it might get lost?” He lifted his brows.

“It’s valuable.”

“It’s worthless. You’re valuable.”

His face was inches from hers. A small lift of his hand, and it was on her hip. Then he slipped it to the base of her spine. He leaned in.

“Jackson.” His name was a warning.

“It’s a kiss,” he said. “It’s only a kiss. We’ve done it before.”

He gave her a second to protest.

She didn’t.

So he brought his lips to hers.

They were as sweet as he’d remembered, hot and tantalizing. Desire immediately registered in his brain. Passion lit his hormones, while every cell jumped to attention. His hand tightened at the small of her back, drawing her against him.

He stretched his legs out, stretched hers out, and delved into the depths of her mouth. She kissed him in return. Her slight body sank into the soft bed.

Her robe gaped loose, and he knew it would take nothing, nothing at all to untie the sash, spread it wide, feast his gaze on her gorgeous body. But he held back, kissing her neck.

“Jackson,” she groaned.

He loved the sound of his name coming from her lips. Her tone breathless.

“We should stop,” she said. There was a no-nonsense edge to her voice now and he told himself to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sounding as if she was.

“My fault,” he readily admitted.

“I keep kissing you back.”

“I keep starting it.”

“These are extraordinary circumstances.”

He summoned the strength and put a few inches between them. His eyes focused on her. “You are so unbelievably beautiful.”

That got him a smile, and he felt it resonate through his heart.

“How does he do it?” He had to ask. “How does a man have you and even look at another woman?”

Her smile grew a little wider. “I can ask him.”

“You should ask him. Better yet, I’ll ask him. No, I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him he lost you, and I got you, and I’m sure going to keep you.”

“While you’re still pretending to be my ex-boyfriend?” she joked.

“What?” It took a second for her meaning to register. “Yeah. Right. That’s what I meant.”

She sobered. “And then this will all be over.”

Jackson wasn’t ready to say that.

“I should be sad,” she said. “I mean, I am sad. But I should be sadder. I should be devastated. This mess is my life.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

What he wanted to say was that they’d fix her life. He’d help her fix her life. He was sticking around until everything was settled, until he understood exactly what was going on with the diamond mine and anything else that might hurt her. He was staying until she was completely safe from Vern and all of the Gerhards.

* * *

They slept apart. And in the morning, Jackson drove her to the shopping mall parking lot three miles from the Gerhard mansion.

“I’d rather come with you,” he said as he passed under the colorful flags that marked the main entrance.

“He’s not going to try anything with Ellie there.” Crista was nervous, but she wasn’t afraid.

Vern would have no choice but to accept her decision. He wasn’t going to be happy. But surely at some level he would understand. His relationship with Gracie Stolt might not be a full-blown affair, but they were obviously intimate. Vern needed to do as much thinking about his future as Crista did about her own.

“He lit a hotel on fire.” There was a hard edge to Jackson’s voice.

“They haven’t proven that yet.”

“I have all the proof I need. There they are.” Jackson angled the SUV across a block of empty parking spots toward a silver sedan.

“Whose car?” she asked, knowing Ellie drove a blue hatchback.

“It’s a company car. Mac wouldn’t risk taking Ellie back to her apartment for her car.”

“They’ve been together all night.”

“It’s possible,” said Jackson. “I didn’t ask.”

“So, you didn’t assign him to protect her.” For the hundredth time, Crista tried to figure out Jackson’s motivation for sticking around.

“I didn’t need to.”

She tried to read his expression.

He seemed to sense her stare and glanced over. “What?”

“Why are you still here?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “You’ve heard of pro bono?”

“That’s for lawyers.”

“It’s for private detectives, too.”

She didn’t buy it, but let the issue drop for now.

He pulled into the spot close to Mac and Ellie.

“You know you don’t have to break it off in person,” he said.

“I want to do it in person. I want to see his expression. And it’s the only way it’ll feel final to me.”

“I can come with you.”

“Ellie’s coming with me. Vern likes Ellie.”

Jackson clenched his jaw. After a moment’s pause he passed a phone to Crista. “I’m speed dial one. Call me if anything looks suspicious.”

“Suspicious how?” She couldn’t help but think he was used to higher stakes and higher drama than this. She was breaking off an engagement, not spying on a foreign government.

“You’ll know it if it happens,” he said.

She doubted that.

He picked up the phone, waiting for her to take it in her hand. “If I don’t hear from you fifteen minutes after you’re inside, we’re coming in.”

“How will you know when we’re inside?” She conjured up a silly picture of him on a hillside in camo and green face paint with a set of high-powered binoculars.

“That phone has a very accurate GPS.”

“You can’t storm the mansion, Jackson. They’ll arrest you.”

“They can try,” he said.

“You’re nuts.”

“I’m cautious.”

She reached for the car door handle. “We’re going to be fine.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from exiting. “
Anything
suspicious.”

“Yes. Sure.” She would try. “I assume Ellie is getting the same instructions?”

“Mac’s cautious, too.”

“Okay.” Crista took a deep breath and swung open the door.

The butterflies in her stomach had ramped up, and she told herself not to let Jackson rattle her. Yes, Vern was going to be angry. And if Manfred or Delores were there, the conversation would definitely get even more uncomfortable. But it would be over in a matter of minutes, and this would all be behind her.

As she rose to her feet, she wiggled the diamond ring that was back on her finger, checking to make sure it was loose. When she was nervous, her hands tended to swell. The last thing she needed was to break things off and try to give back the ring only to have it get stuck on her finger.

Mac stepped out of the passenger seat of the silver sedan. He nodded a greeting to Crista and held the door open for her.

“Thanks,” she said as she slid onto the seat.

Mac leaned down, looking in the open door, his gaze on Ellie. “Don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” said Ellie.

He gave another serious nod then pushed the door firmly shut.

“Don’t forget what?” Crista couldn’t help but ask.

Ellie gave a sheepish shrug. “I’m not sure. The list was pretty long.”

Crista couldn’t help but smile. “Do you have a secret agent phone, too?”

Ellie tapped the front pocket of her white shorts. “I’m packin’.”

“They’ve got us hooked up to GPS.”

“I heard.”

“And Jackson said we have fifteen minutes before they storm the place.”

Ellie shifted the car into Drive and glanced back to Jackson’s car as she pulled through the parking spot. “Who
are
those guys?”

“I can’t figure it out. I keep asking him why he’s doing all this, and I keep getting vague answers.”

“He’s hot,” Ellie said with a glance in her rearview mirror.

“Jackson?”

“Mac.”

That got Crista’s attention. “Really?”

“You didn’t notice?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention to Mac.”

“I was.” Ellie headed for the traffic light at the parking lot exit. “But forget about me. Do you know what you’re going to say?”

“I think so,” said Crista. She’d gone over a dozen different versions in her mind. “Did Mac tell you about the pictures?”

“He showed them to me.”

“He kept copies.” Crista wasn’t surprised.

“They weren’t fakes,” said Ellie.

“I know.”

They completed a left turn. Traffic was light, so they’d be at the mansion in about five minutes.

“Vern is pond scum,” said Ellie.

“I keep going back and forth between coming out guns a-blazing or calmly asking for an explanation.”

“Could there be any reasonable explanation?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“I say guns a-blazing.”

“Either way, the result will be the same.”

“But not as satisfying. He needs to know he hurt you.”

“He knows that.”

“I doubt he cares.”

Crista hoped he cared. The Vern she’d fallen in love with would care.

“Hit him with both barrels,” said Ellie. “If you don’t, you’ll be sorry later.”

“I have to at least ask him what happened,” Crista countered. As far-fetched as it seemed, Vern might have something to say in his own defense.