“Wait.” The fingers of both hands wrapped around his wrist. “Were you at the house last night? Did you come to see me?”
He could hear the need in her voice, the same desperation that he had. What the hell did she want? To ensure he made the first move?
“No, I wasn’t.” But he knew it wouldn’t be long. He would break, and the thought of that sent a wave of anger rushing through him.
She had to know what he felt for her. She had to have realized it. No woman could be so fuckin’ obtuse that they couldn’t see when a man was so engulfed in her that he would gladly die for her. Or worse, kill for her.
He’d wondered several times, and prayed he was only being facetious, when he’d wondered who he had to kill to convince her he loved her?
“Oh.” She released him slowly.
Catching her hand, he drew her to her car.
“Where’s your key?” He couldn’t keep the anger from his tone.
Pushing her fingers into the side pocket of her skirt, she pulled out the small electronic key and the snick of the door locks filled the silence.
Jerking the door open, he held it for her, watching as she moved around him to slide into the driver’s seat.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered as she stared back at him. “What kind of game are you playing with my heart, Casey?”
And that only pissed him off more. If she thought he was playing a game, then it could only be because she was playing one herself. And the thought of that lit a fuse to his temper that went straight to his lusts.
He’d find out the game she was playing.
He hadn’t been at her home last night, but tonight? Oh baby, he promised her silently, he’d be there tonight.
“Go home, Sheila,” he told her gently as he stepped back, gripping the edge of the door. “And think about it. I’ll give you one more chance to figure it out on your own.”
He closed the door before she could argue and stepped back, his gaze still connected with hers, his expression, harder than she may have ever seen it.
She had him ready to explode. Not so much in anger as in pure dominant male lust. A dominance and a lust that went far beyond anything he had ever wanted to give another woman.
He wouldn’t allow her to play games with what he knew existed between them. He’d be damned if he’d ever seen the love a woman felt for him in her eyes. But he’d seen it in Sheila’s. Just as he’d felt her pain, her longing, her fucking confusion.
The vehicle started, and as he watched, she backed out of the parking space and turned, heading to the exit.
He watched until her taillights faded around the curve ahead and several other vehicles pulled out behind her.
And he promised himself, he silently swore to her, that before the night was over, she would know to the soles of her feet who the fuck she belonged to, and why she belonged to him.
After tonight, she’d know better than to ever again ask him what game he was playing with her heart.
ELEVEN
By all accounts and research, Sheila Rutledge was a good girl.
Her heart had been broken once by Ross Mason, a young man who had used her to further his own ends. He had, at a very vulnerable time in her life, used her to get to her father and to gain an important government position within the financial sector.
The knowledge of Ross Mason deception had caused Miss Rutledge to retreat behind a wall of frigid unconcern where men were involved. Until a man named Nick Casey had arrived in town five years before to work for Ethan Cooper at the Broken Bar.
Gossip, it appeared, had been focused on Miss Rutledge and her bouncer since the day she had met him.
And in the past nine or ten months, it had only become stronger.
Since the night Miss Rutledge had left the bar with her bouncer and spent the night at his apartment.
They were an item, despite the fact that it seemed the young miss was determined to hold on to the man whose past was shrouded in shadows.
Strange, the fact that Captain Rutledge seemed blissfully ignorant of the fact that Nick Casey wasn’t who he said he was.
Of course, Rutledge himself had a rather shady past as well. A man in his fifties and he’d never risen above captain? For all his connections and political friends, his rank should have been far higher. Which meant somewhere, in some way, Rutledge had compromised his position and his values.
Ahh, such tangled webs.
A sigh filled the pickup. Following Miss Rutledge, knowing the task ahead, weighed heavily on the shoulders.
It wouldn’t be easy, terrifying her, harming her. She was a gentle person, a kind person, and forcing her to pay the price for a past she had nothing to do with would be a haunting act. It would be a memory that would haunt not just the present, but the future as well.
Hands tightened on the steering wheel. The vehicle began to accelerate. No, harming her wouldn’t be easy, but what other choice was there?
Beau refused to make the call.
There was no gossip that his woman was in danger, Miss Rutledge had kept her suspicions to herself. No one else knew her home had been broken into. No one knew a vehicle followed her a little closer each night.
No one else knew about the phone message she had on her recorder.
Beau had no
