Kenni stared into his eyes, the brilliant blue watching her intently, boring into hers as she fought to remain still beneath his look.
He wasn’t a man who dealt well with threats to his friends. She knew he saw her as more than a friend, but this was still uncalled for.
“Keeping me here won’t change the fact that I don’t know anything, Jazz.” She rubbed at her arms for a moment, wishing she were standing in the sunshine, someplace warm, warm enough that the ever-present chill of fate wasn’t breathing over her flesh.
“Well then, I guess keeping you here will ensure they don’t try it again, won’t it, sugar?” he said smoothly. “Because until I find out who and why, I’m going to make damned sure they can’t get to you.”
Kenni didn’t break his stare; she didn’t dare. Any sign of weakness and he would take full advantage of it.
Just when she was certain she couldn’t hold his stare much longer, the excited yips of four immature Rottweilers sounded at the gate.
Jazz’s gaze slid to the gate then back to her. The obvious, deliberate release didn’t sit well with her. Damn him, he’d known she was wavering, so why had he just let it go?
“Well, I’m playing with the babies before I leave,” Jessie declared, her tone less than pleased at her husband’s intention of keeping her away from Kenni.
It was better that way, though, Kenni knew that. Now that she’d been found, now that the first strike had been attempted, it wouldn’t stop. And until she could run, hide, then everyone she cared for or might care for would be in danger. She’d learned that lesson in the early years of this cat-and-mouse game her life had turned into.
“Come on, Annie, let these two bitch about us.” Jessie grabbed her cup and headed for the television room. “We’ll go bitch about them.”
Slowly, Kenni took the coffee cup, glancing only briefly at Jazz’s set face before leaving the room.
He might not be willing to let her go, but she’d leave, one way or the other. She’d learned how to escape and run a long time ago. The only difference now? She didn’t want to escape, she didn’t want to run yet. She wanted to enjoy the beauty of the home she would never have and the man she couldn’t have, for just a while longer. Then she would run, but this time she had no idea where she could hide.
CHAPTER 7
Jazz watched from the kitchen, taking his time getting the steaks and the grill ready for dinner after Slade and Jessie’s departure. Salt-rubbed baked potatoes were in the oven, a pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge. And there, in the living room, surrounded by puppies with more energy than some two-year-olds, sat the prettiest thing he was sure he’d ever seen.
Wary, damned defensive on a good day, but giggling like a schoolgirl now, she sat as four canine demons romped around her and decided she was their personal chew toy. Even their sire, Marcus, and normally distrustful dam, Esmerelda, put aside their wariness enough to let Annie pet them and assure them what a beautiful family they had.
He couldn’t help but be surprised by the fact that she felt right there. In the middle of the living room in a house he hadn’t been able to imagine another woman living in, this woman who called herself Annie just belonged.
Figuring out why would take a while, he thought. God knew he wanted her in his bed, and he was as possessive as hell over her, but was it love? It didn’t feel like the only love he’d ever really known, but then he’d been a hell of a lot younger then.
“Hey, ready to take a break?” he asked from the doorway as he unlatched the gate. “You could keep me company while I grill some steaks.”
Her shoulders stiffened, wariness instantly marring the peace he’d glimpsed in her expression as she played with the puppies.
“Sounds good,” she responded, giving the puppies a final pet before rising to her feet and turning to face him. “Those puppies are heathens, Jazz,” she said, glancing down as the rambunctious babies jumped against her legs, not quite ready to stop having fun.
“They can be,” he agreed, grinning as he opened the gate for her.
She slid past him quickly, giving him just enough time to close the gate before the heathens could follow her into the kitchen.
Latching the metal barrier he turned and watched her step to the sink, where she washed and dried her hands carefully.
The distrust in her gaze when she faced him moments later had his chest tightening in regret. Damn her. She had to find a way to trust him. Whatever she was attempting to do she hadn’t managed in the two years she had been in Loudoun. Securing her safety was his highest priority; she may as well begin accepting that.
For now, he’d rein in the need for answers. Soon enough he would have to demand them.
“Grill’s out back.” He nodded to the porch as he picked up the steaks he’d prepared and laid on the bar.
Stepping outside he was aware of her following him until the door closed behind them and Annie stopped, taking in the view.
The porch wrapped around the house. At the end of the back of the house was the grill, located a step below the porch. The rock patio led to the pool with its waterfall and rock features.
Glancing back at her, he glimpsed the wistfulness in her expression. There was a hunger there, barely glimpsed, that had him wondering at the life she must have lived before coming to Loudoun. Each time he showed her one of the house’s features that she hadn’t seen yet, that almost hidden hunger would flash in her expression before it was gone again.
Grilling the steaks Jazz watched as she moved through the backyard, investigating the pool and natural landscaping. He’d tried to keep the look as natural as possible with miniature trees, flowers natural to the mountains around them, and a path made from stones he’d unearthed on the property itself.
It was a feature he’d created to go with the pool in those first months after the completion of the house. A place where he could think, where he could make sense of changes in his life that had altered too much of what he thought and felt.
As the steaks finished Annie returned to the house for the potatoes and assortment of sauces and butters he’d set out with the freshly baked garlic bread. Dinner was eaten in a comfortable silence as early evening began to ease over the mountains.
Refilling their tea glasses, Jazz drew her to the steps leading to the yard before drawing her down to sit on the step in front of him. They were just in time to watch the ducks, along with their ducklings, as they ventured from cover to frolic in the large pond.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she whispered as they watched the playful waterfowl. “I can’t imagine anyplace more beautiful.”
The wistful regret in her voice had his senses raging on alert as he sat behind her on the steps. He braced his knees protectively around her and propped his back against the wide post supporting the roof.
Lifting his tea, Jazz sipped at it rather than speaking.
“Do you own a lot of land?” she asked then.
“A bit,” he agreed. “About a hundred acres.”
“You could get lost in it.” There was that vein of aching hunger inside her.
She wanted to get lost, he realized. She wanted to hide, and at the same time she was dying to live.
“You could,” he agreed. “It’s the mountains you could get lost in, though. They’re so deep, so mysterious that whole clans live within them without ever being seen.”
Her head settled on his knee as he let his fingers rub against her hair, the shell of her ear.
“What if someone comes looking for them?” she asked, the tension in her voice making him wonder if she thought she could find a haven other than Loudoun.
“Depends on if they want to be found. If they don’t want to be found, then they won’t be. And enemies disappear when they come searching for them,” he assured her.