“Hmm,” she said, climbing into his truck. “That’s because the women’s tiny little skate skirts, or the form-
figure skating dresses that barely cover anything, are so revealing. And then tights or tan panty hose look pretty —”
“Sexy.” He reached over from the driver’s side and stroked her thigh. “Good thing no other men were there watching you perform. I would have had to fight them off.”
She laughed. “My ex-husbands thought my skating was boring. After watching me the first time, neither of them would bother. They were into ice hockey—guys beating up guys on the ice.”
“They were crazy. I’d much rather watch you dancing solo as eloquently as you do or be the one making the moves with you on the ice.”
She gave him an appreciative smile as he started the engine. Where had Jake been when she could have used him years earlier in her life? Her life was way too messed up now.
She peered out the window on the drive back to her hotel from the skating rink. She kept watching for any sign of a black Mercedes, but she didn’t see either one of them. With the way Jake was glancing up at his rearview mirror or out his windows, she thought he was watching for anyone following them, too.
“Lunch next after I sign the papers at the gallery, all right?” he asked.
“Sure. I’ll just change while you’re gone.” She looked over at him to see him glancing down at her short skirt and nearly bare legs, and she had the sneaking suspicion he wanted to do something else first. “Don’t tell me you need to work up an appetite first.”
He chuckled, and the sound was deep and dark and aroused. But he shook his head and ran his hand over her thigh with a gently caressing touch. She got the distinct impression it wouldn’t take much for him to change his mind.
When they arrived at her hotel, Jake escorted her to her room, his hand in hers, but he seemed to be in a real hurry. As if he was afraid he’d stay and forget his business, he smiled broadly and framed her head with his hands against the outer wall beside her door instead of entering the room. “If I don’t run over to the gallery now, I’m likely to get awfully distracted and wait too late, and then they’ll be closed.”
She smiled, brows raised, hands sliding up his chest.
“Then you’d better run over there, because I think you might just be right.”
And with that, he gave her one of his searing kisses that promised much more later. Desire curled in her belly, making her feel that if she hadn’t been leaning against the wall, she would have melted into a puddle at his feet.
“I’ll be right back. Twenty minutes, max.”
She smiled and tugged at his buttons. “By the time you drive back into town, sign the papers, and return, it’ll be more like forty-five. But that’s fine. I’ll change and lie down for a few minutes.”
“If you fall asleep before I return, I’ll be happy to wake you.” He kissed her again and strode off before she could tug him into the room and give up on napping or anything else.
The women at the rink didn’t know how really good he could be. And she liked him way too much already.
But as soon as he disappeared down the hall, she shuddered, feeling the first real inkling of fear. For as long as she could remember, she’d been the survivor of one disaster or another. And her anger after her mother’s killing had kept her blood hot for revenge—so she hadn’t really felt anything but a compelling urge to take her mother’s murderers into custody. On the darker side, she hadn’t cared whether she made it or not—as long as they paid for their crime.
Now, for the first time since her mother’s death, she did care. Because of a man named Jake Silver. Because of the joy of living he’d awakened in her. Because for once in her life, she felt worthy.
And that scared her.
Chapter 6
Alicia entered her hotel room, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw an envelope on the blue-gray carpet where it must have been shoved underneath the door.
Before she picked up the note, she considered that it might be from her informant. What if Mario and Danny were again on the move?
Her breathing suspended, she tore the envelope open and pulled out the folded note. Alicia Greiston, Room 101 was repeated on the piece of paper, but in another man’s hard-bitten scrawl. She swallowed hard and opened the piece of paper and read: You want me, come and get me. But if lover boy is with you, consider him dead.
Her heart felt as though its motion had been suspended in mid-beat.
Jake would die.
No matter how much she wanted to be with him, to live again, to enjoy life to the fullest, she’d known her meeting him had been too good to be true. He’d leave her anyway. She reminded herself of the way he’d reacted after they’d made love in the woods—that this was a mistake.
I t was. A grave mistake. If Jake died, it would be as though she had pulled the trigger herself. A ll she’d been thinking of was herself, damn it.
No more. She had a job to do. And Jake had to stay out of the picture.
As fast as she could, she changed into jeans and a T-
shirt, tossed the rest of her clothes and cosmetics into her bags, and hurried to the lobby. There, with her heart racing, worried Jake would discover her leaving before she could disappear and guessing he wouldn’t allow it, she stood at the checkout counter, trying not to tap her fingers on the polished surface as she waited for the clerk to get off the phone.
As soon as he did and she got her bill, he said, “Miss Alicia Greiston, you had a message.” He passed an envelope to her, eerily like the first, with her name and room number written on top. But she thought she recognized her informant’s handwriting, although she couldn’t be certain because the scrawl was often disguised. With a quick thanks, she stalked toward the back door where her car was parked outside. As soon as she stowed her bags in the trunk, she drove away from Breckenridge and opened the envelope.
I want to take Mario down, too. But if you get to him first, I’m all for it. He’ll be in Denver at a condo in Cherry Creek North, listed under John Smith.
It was the same type of encouraging, cryptic note that she’d received before, telling her that Mario and Danny were now in Breckenridge. Whoever her informant was, he had been right. She was still concerned that he might be one of Mario’s men, but gut instinct told her she could trust him as far as his not working for Mario. She also assumed he was not one of the strictly good guys or he’d identify himself. More than likely he was someone who had a vendetta of his own.
Turning the car around, she drove in the direction of Denver, two hours away, and hoped Jake wouldn’t hate her too much as a damnable tear slid down her cheek.
She had to draw on her anger if she was going to take Mario and Danny down. Remorse and regret would get her killed before she could accomplish her mission otherwise, and she definitely would get Jake killed if she had anything more to do with him.
Impatiently, Jake signed the paperwork at the art gallery, agreed on the pricing of the photographs, and after leaving all his contact information, headed back to Alicia’s inn. He was thinking he should be noble and take her to lunch first, although he already wanted to make love to her again. He’d never felt that way about a woman—that being separated from her for even an hour would make him crave her all the more. He was thinking of a hike on a trail, although probably not the one where he’d found her earlier today, facing off against two more thugs.
Maybe he could take her to a movie at the local theater later tonight. Or even better, find something on pay TV and order room service. Ice up a bottle of champagne.