almost mockingly.
She gritted her teeth at his confident tone. “Me? How could you possibly think someone was shooting at me? You’re the hotshot spy. Maybe it was you they’re after.”
“They were after you, and that means you have something they want. Or you’re working with them.” His deep voice might be an aphrodisiac, but right now his calm attitude was simply annoying her.
Her hands automatically clenched into fists. “Working with
His shoulders lifted casually, as if the answer should be obvious. “Terrorists.”
“Terrorists? You
Jack shifted so that he stood in front of her, completely blocking her exit. In her bare feet, she was barely five foot two and he had to be at least six feet tall. She bit her bottom lip. If he wanted to keep her there, there wasn’t a lot she could do about it. No matter that she didn’t fear him physically hurting her, that didn’t mean he couldn’t restrain her.
“Move,” she ground out, hoping her voice sounded stronger than the trembling one inside her head.
Her order fell on deaf ears. “Sophie, you have something they want or you’ve seen something you shouldn’t have. If you’re not involved, then think about the last few months at work. Have you noticed anything different about anyone you work with?”
She didn’t have to think about the last few months because she knew that if someone wanted her dead it was because of what she’d seen last night. “You don’t actually think I’m a terrorist, do you?” She needed to get that out of the way first because if he did, she wasn’t going to bother talking with him.
Something passed over his features as he shook his head. It was brief, but she knew what it was. Sincerity. “No, I don’t. But my superiors aren’t as convinced. So why don’t you tell me what you know?”
“My purse . . .” She’d left it in the SUV, which was now at the bottom of the bay. And it had that file with Keane Flight’s records.
“Left behind, though your wallet sort of survived. Your credit cards and ID are still inside.”
“Where?” There was nothing tied to SBMS in it, but she was glad he’d saved it. After she’d changed out of those wet clothes, she hadn’t even been aware of what he’d done with them or the wallet.
“Your room.”
Wordlessly she made a move to leave the kitchen mainly because she wanted to get out of the enclosed area. Jack made her feel almost claustrophobic.
“I’ll come with you.” He shifted to the side so she could pass, but not enough that she could avoid touching him. Her shoulder brushed against his muscular chest, sending a rush of heat to her lower abdomen. She hated her purely physical reaction to him. It made her feel out of control, and right now that was the last thing she needed.
He wasn’t more than a foot behind her as she made her way to the bedroom. Something about his scent was familiar. It was spicy and just plain masculine, but there was something else. Something that triggered familiar memories. Memories she wanted no part of. He might have the same dark hair and same pale eyes as Sam, but she had to be imagining any other similarities. Her mind was seeing what it wanted to see. Nothing more.
Her damp black wallet was on the small nightstand next to the bed. She hadn’t even noticed it earlier. It was wet and still zipped up. The few receipts inside were ruined, but her credit cards were fine. She didn’t see her flash drive anywhere, which meant either he’d found it or it was still in the lining of her bra. Wherever that was.
“What was in your purse?” Jack asked quietly.
She raked a shaky hand through her hair, hating that she’d had to leave it behind.
“I had my assistant compile a list of flight logs, flight patterns, and a few other accounting mysteries connected to Keane Flight that I’ve been looking into.” She left out the part about the incriminating pictures.
He nodded as if he already believed her. “We know about most of this.”
Okay, then. “We?”
Of course he ignored her question. She was starting to get used to that. “Was that file the only information you have on Keane and SBMS?”
She wasn’t going to answer just yet. “Where’s my bra and panties?” Jack hadn’t proven that he worked for the government and he hadn’t even told her which branch. Her boss might have been acting strange lately, but before she told this stranger anything, she was going to call Ronald and get more answers. She owed him that much. Jack might have saved her life, but doing that could still be for his own purposes, and Ronald was more than just her boss. He was her friend. Hell, he was like a father to her.
The question took Jack off guard. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I, uh, hung them up in the closet to dry. Didn’t know if you’d want them later.”
She tried not to let her elation show. Instead she held a hand to her forehead and swayed on her feet, hoping he bought her act. “Thank you . . . I’m feeling a little weak. Do you mind if I lie down for a bit?” She stumbled to the bed before sitting on the edge of the mattress. His eyes narrowed and she wondered if she’d overdone it.
When he shook his head she relaxed a fraction. “There’s not much here in the way of food, but I’ll be cooking rice and beans. Want me to wake you up in an hour?”
She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Perfect.”
Once he shut the door behind him, she rushed to depress the simple button lock. The satin nickel lock was flimsy, but if he tried to open it, she’d hear the door jangle. Or if he really was a spy, maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, it made her feel better. She hurried to the window and pulled back the yellow curtain. They were on the first floor. Perfect.
Jack might not want to hurt her, but that didn’t mean she trusted him.
Blood rushed in her ears as she slid open the closet door. Even the rustling of her dress seemed overly pronounced as she dug the flash drive from the lining of her damp bra. It was so lightweight she wasn’t surprised he’d missed it. Of course, he probably hadn’t thought to search her undergarments because, well, why would he? She snagged the lone pair of tennis shoes on the floor and slipped them on. They were too big and looked ridiculous with the dress, but she wasn’t running around in bare feet. She grabbed her wet wallet and eased open the window. After a quick glance around she hoisted herself through and dropped onto a grassy incline. No alarm had gone off when she opened the window, so she figured she was safe.
Unless he had a silent one. The thought sent a jolt of adrenaline snaking down her spine.
As she surveyed her surroundings, Sophie realized she was in an end condominium near a body of water. Taking her chances, she headed toward the dock. Maybe she’d find someone to help her. She slowed and peeked around the corner of the building. There was a screened porch, but she didn’t see Jack anywhere.
She picked up her pace and jogged toward the dock. Jack’s place was one of four condominiums facing the water. There was a small marina and restaurant at the end of the row of buildings. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, so she kept her walk steady as she headed down the wooden planks and toward the faint reggae music.
The entire bar was built out over the water and completely open. There was a thatched roof covering the place, but there were no walls and no air-conditioning, just a long, rectangular wooden bar, ten high-top tables, and random nautical pieces hung up everywhere. There was even a fake parrot perched next to the cash register and a ship’s wheel dangling above it. She didn’t see a bartender, so she took a chance and sat next to one of the six older men drinking at the bar. He was the only one sitting by himself.
“Do you know if there are any pay phones around here?”
The man with the gray beard glanced up from his beer and frowned as he took in her appearance, no doubt noticing her faint bruises. “You don’t have a cell phone?”
“My car got a flat tire about half a mile back. When I went to use my phone, I realized the battery had died. I’m vacationing with friends and need to tell them where I am.”
“Here. Use this.” He fished a phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.
Damn. People weren’t this nice in Miami. “Thanks. I’ll be quick.”
She took a seat at an empty table a couple of feet from the bar and dialed Ronald’s number. He picked up on the second ring. There was a cautious note in his voice. “Hello?”
