“That's what I know. That's why I wanted our engagement to go on longer. I didn't want to actually marry him, but I wanted to stay close enough that I could overhear phone conversations, see text messages, see any paperwork or emails that came through. And maybe even work up to the point where he trusted me enough to tell me something more or take me with him.”
“Well, thankfully it never got to that point.”
She frowned. “I appreciate your concern, but it's unnecessary.”
“Is it? I understand that you're trying to do the right thing here, but trying to talk the man you were tricking into marrying you—”
“I only tricked him into being engaged to me,” Caroline corrected.
“Trying to convince the man you tricked into having a close, intimate relationship to take you along on a criminal interaction isn't smart.”
Caroline noticed the way Zander said intimate and couldn’t help but wonder what that was about.
“Well, Brantley was my most direct way of getting the most information as quickly as possible.”
“Let me see what I can dig up from what you told me.”
“It might not be much. Max has tried.”
“Well, no offense to your superstar journalist best friend, but I might have a few more resources.”
“You might,” Caroline muttered.
The lift of Zander's brow told her that he'd heard her clearly.
“If you think of anything else that you didn't tell me tonight, let me know.” Zander stretched to his feet. He reached into the front pocket of his blue jeans.
It was really unfair that he looked so good in blue jeans. She'd really liked the way he looked in his uniform, but the blue jeans and casual shirt did nothing to diminish her attraction to him.
The man was not only extremely good-looking, but his confidence and sternness did something to her. She was used to being around spoiled, rich playboys. Guys who didn't take much seriously and who always got their way. Guys who threw around their money, reputations, last names, and privilege and who very seldom, if ever, looked thoughtful about anything.
“Here.” He held something out to her. “This should give you a few options.”
Caroline rose and held out her hand. Zander placed a stack of bills in her palm.
Caroline knew her eyes were wide as she looked up at him. “What's this?”
“I'm buying some of your jewelry.”
“Excuse me?”
“I can't give you what they’re worth, but no one else is going to either. This will get you a plane ticket, rent money for a couple months. Some new clothes.” His mouth actually tipped up at the corner.
Caroline felt the flip in her stomach in response. “You're giving me money to run away?”
“I’m giving you that option at least.”
Caroline felt her throat tighten. He didn’t approve of her family and friends, or probably how she’d been conducting herself with her social circle, and he certainly hadn’t planned on having her on his list of issues today, but he wasn’t just doing the minimum here. He was not just giving her cab money to get back to New Orleans. He was actually giving her an escape.
She hadn’t counted it, but she’d guess she was holding at least five thousand dollars. She doubted that five grand cash was easy for a small-town cop to come up with in a couple hours’ time. He’d called in favors or raided a stash somewhere or borrowed it from someone. She wondered if he’d told that person what, or who, it was for.
She swallowed hard and looked up at him. “And you're just giving me this money?”
“Like I said, I'm taking some of the jewelry in exchange.”
“And you're going to go to the pawnshop with it,” she guessed.
He nodded. “I'll have better luck getting a good price than you will.”
She had no doubt of that.
“This is really sweet of you.”
“I just…” He stopped and blew out a breath. He tucked his hands into his back pockets. “I really need you out of my town.”
Caroline blinked at him. Oh, okay. Ouch. But she got it. She'd come to town, stirred things up, and definitely brought at least the hint of trouble. Heather had told her that Zander didn’t like that. He was protective of the people in this town. Caroline might not be a direct threat, but she knew bad people. One who had sent someone after her and might again.
She just really didn't want to leave.
Yes, it was because she wanted to know what was going to happen with rescuing these animals. But it was also because she felt safe here.
The only other place she would consider going was to be with Max.
She really had nowhere else to go that she wouldn't be alone.
She really didn't want to be alone.
She should probably be stronger and more independent than that, but she wasn't. She could admit that.
Besides, Max was coming here. Eventually. After the story in Texas was finished. Caroline was going to stick around long enough for her friend to get a read on the situation as well.
Max always knew what to do. If Max thought Zander was handling this correctly and that everything would be fine, Caroline would leave. Maybe then she'd go back to Max's apartment, buy some new clothes—her mouth curled slightly as well—and lie low for a while.
She looked up at Zander. Was she going to see him again? She wasn't sure. Just because Max was coming to Autre in a couple of days, didn't mean that her path would cross with the hot cop’s again. So she took a step closer to him, put a hand on his chest, stretched up, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
She felt his entire body tense and the sharp intake of breath near her ear.
When she leaned back, she looked up into his eyes.
Now they were readable. They were stormy, filled with heat and enough desire that she actually felt the electricity zipping along her nerve endings.
Whoa.
She wet her lips, and Zander's gaze dropped to her mouth.
Whoa, doubled.
She swallowed. “Thanks,” she managed. “For everything.”
“You need to leave. Tomorrow.” His voice was gruff.
And in that flicker of a moment, she understood.
The longer she stayed, the more he'd want her to stay.
Because she was feeling the same thing.
“I can call you when I get where I'm going so you know that I'm—”
He took a huge step back. “No.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “No, you don't need to call.”
If it hadn't been for that little moment of awareness between them, her self-esteem would be lying on the porch of Autre’s bed and breakfast in tiny shattered pieces.
But she'd seen it. He wanted her. He didn't want to want her. But he did. And he was fighting it very hard.
And he was afraid it was a losing battle.
Which not only kept her girly ego intact, but actually pumped it up just a little.
“Okay, no calls,” she agreed.
“No. Call if you have trouble. If you need anything,” he said quickly.
Right. Don’t call just to say hi or to tell him where she was if she was fine. But if she needed him, he’d be there.
Dammit. Her ego wasn’t the only thing that liked all of that. A lot.