“After all these years?” Her arms went across her breasts once again as she watched him skeptically.
“Some men don’t know when to give up, darlin’.” He grinned again and leaned his hip into the counter, wishing to hell he could have fixed this for her when she first showed up.
“This sounds a little far-fetched, you have to admit.” She frowned back at him, but he could see the beginnings of suspicion in the intensity of her gaze.
He nodded as though he understood her doubt.
“You’d think,” he agreed. “Tell you what. Pride caught a glimpse of John in town this morning. He and Justice and three of my men are out tracking him now. When they catch up with him, they’ll bring him here and we’ll ask him what he knows about it.”
Jacob intended to rearrange the man’s face real good for him. If John was lucky, Jacob might let him live. No promises, though. It was actually kind of doubtful.
Sallie took a step backward, staring back at him in disbelief. She didn’t pale or appear guilty. She looked shocked as she rubbed at her arms as though chilled.
“That doesn’t make sense.” She shook her head, her arms dropping slowly, only to cross again as though trying to keep warm. “I haven’t seen or heard from him once since the night he delivered the annulment papers. Why would he be here?”
Why was John here? Why had Rance arranged for Sallie to hide here, in his hometown, right beneath his nose?
Jacob didn’t believe in coincidence, not to that degree. Coincidence was a winning lottery ticket when someone didn’t have gas money. Sallie being here, that wasn’t coincidence, it was by design. And Jacob wanted to know exactly what Rance Dougal thought he was doing when he neglected to inform him that she was here and in trouble.
“I’m going to bet it’s for the same reason your attacker was in town. Hoping you’ll lead him to me,” he guessed. “Too many things tie this to me, baby. And it just pisses me the fuck off that you’ve been terrorized this way. I’ll be sure to let John know how I feel about it once we find him. And Rance Dougal has his own questions to answer, because he damned sure knew Jake Rossiter, and he knew I was an agent.”
Sallie had a very bad feeling Jacob would do something a hell of a lot worse than just question John. She could see it in the hard, predatory glitter in his fierce gaze. Just what she needed, another person to weigh on her conscience, though she had a feeling John just might receive a harsher sentence from Jacob than those who had tried to help her had received from her attacker.
“Don’t use me as an excuse for violence,” she demanded, wondering exactly how she was supposed to handle this one. “What the hell has gotten into you? Everyone who talks about you says you’re not possessive.” She ticked the points off on her fingers. “You’re not violent, you’re easy to get along with.” Bracing her hands on her hips she stared back at him suspiciously. “People don’t know you well, do they?”
In an instant his expression hardened, turned savage as his gaze went cold.
“People who know me, know better than to fuck with me, or to fuck with what’s mine.” He moved before she could evade him, one hand locking in the strands of hair at the back of her head, the other gripping her jaw, holding her in place. “And like it or not, baby, you’re mine.”
Sallie felt her lips part in surprise a second before he delivered a hard, possessive kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips, stamping his ownership on her senses, on a part of her heart she’d been certain she’d managed to hold back from him.
As she stood beneath his kiss, her hands fisted in the material of his shirt and felt the dominance, the sheer power of the man holding her, and memories of the three days he’d spent in her hotel room six years ago swept over her. This was the kiss he’d given her before he’d left her that last day, promising to return. It was this kiss, this sense of belonging to him that she’d never been able to escape.
To have him state that ownership, to take it so blatantly was a shock, a certainty that somehow, someway, she’d entirely lost control of this situation.
His head lifted, his thumb raking over her swollen lips as Sallie fought to right herself, to make sense of the sudden cessation of pleasure, of a claiming she’d never recovered from in the past six years.
“Remember that, Sallie.” He stepped back from her, his voice darker, graveled. “Because I promise you, anyone else that even entertains the idea of hurting you will pay for it.”
He released her just as suddenly as he’d restrained her and stomped to the front door, leaving the house entirely.
Sallie stood in place, watching as the door closed behind with a snap and knew she’d just lost precious ground if she had any hope of enforcing her own wishes in this little relationship developing between them.
Ground she’d better regain fast.
This was crazy. She glanced around the room she stood in, swallowed tightly, and tried to figure out what she should do. She’d considered contacting Rance when Pride had first returned her phone and tablet to her, but something had warned her to wait.
It was still warning her.
If her mother were still alive, perhaps that call would have already been made, though Sallie wasn’t certain of it.
And it wasn’t as though it had done her any good to run, she reminded herself. Three identities and relocations in nearly five years, and still, she’d been found.
But if it was all some elaborate plot to draw Jacob out, why hadn’t they just clued her in during one of the attacks? What was the point in terrorizing her and keeping her on the run this way?
And Rance, what the hell was he doing calling her office? He’d never called to check up on her before. She’d always had to contact him and wait for him to come to wherever she’d managed to run to once she’d been found.
He’d lied to her about knowing who Jake Rossiter was. That thought was sudden knowledge she couldn’t forget. John had lied to her, and if he had, then she had no doubt Rance had as well.
But why?
Lifting her hand, she nibbled at her thumbnail as she walked to the front door, opened it, and stepped out onto the wide front porch.
The sun beat down, bright and filled with heat. The lush green pastures and neat barns and stables were given only a cursory glance as Sallie stepped to the cushioned outdoor sofa that sat against the house. Curling in the corner, partially hidden by one of the wide support beams, she tried to make sense of her stepfather’s motives, as well as those of her ex-husband’s.
If Rance and John knew Jacob, then they knew he’d lost that weekend they’d spent together, so why not just tell her? Better yet, why not contact Jacob and tell him?
Why had they lied to her?
God, she wanted to call him, to demand the answers she needed, but that little foreboding she felt at the thought wouldn’t leave her alone. And it wasn’t the first time she’d felt it. Each time she’d had to run again and contacted him, she’d had to fight that edge of panic and make herself call.
Movement from the corner of her eye had her looking up from where she’d been staring sightlessly at the verdant green of the lawn just beyond the porch. Jacob stood at the top of the steps, watching her silently.
For a second, indecision raced through her before she made up her mind and breathed out heavily. “Rance never calls to check up on me, you know,” she told him quietly. “But Tara said he’s been calling, demanding I check in with him. He shouldn’t be aware anything happened.”